Faded holo image, of sorts

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“A faded photograph from the past perhaps? Or a manipulated image from the very now? You decide.” Gun Roswell

Faded holo image, of sorts

The vistas familiar, like seen before, perhaps in a window display of some store?

But certainly, the views nothing of any kind of bore, as this was straight from the ancient lore.

Well, perhaps not, but still, made you stop and have a look, didn’t I?!

A heavily manipulated snap from the now it might just be, nothing mysterious or giddy there to see. Or perhaps, there is?

Again, it is in the eyes of the beholder, to decide, what they can see in the image created by the pix snapper, with somewhat of an ease.

Crowd funded?

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“Too many people equals usually never a good thing” Gun Roswell 

Crowd funded?

Crowds, people, individuals, too many of them I see, out there on the streets.

Scary too they all seem to be, at least as far as I can see.

But perhaps if daring, venturing out there and them with a smile greeting?

Perhaps none too scared am I anymore, because maybe the thought had simply come out of lore?

People in crowds, being a mob?

The mentality of such groups somewhere in the memory stored?

And so, in there I go.

Just a simple hello.

Perhaps they will see me as a similar type to them?

Someone who could easily fit in?

A Piece of Art against the Blue Skies

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“There is just something about abstract art… I said there is something, not sure as to the what that something it is though!” Gun Roswell

A Piece of Art against the Blue Skies

The colours totally vivid, someone’s surely getting a headache, while staring too long at it!

But, it’s art, part of a famous exhibit so don’t go talking shit about it!

It looks like a head, or something similar, but never mind what it really depicts, because it can be anything and everything your heart might just desire.

And so, with that thought, simply stand there for a moment and admire, the work of an artist well known, already gone though, but its fine, as they left behind, a legacy of their own.

Two cherries

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“Two berries, both cherries, hanging from a branch, it’s not much, but it’s a start” Gun Roswell 

Two cherries 

There are two of them left, just there, hanging by themselves, after all the others have gone, eaten perhaps or thrown off by gusts too strong, the rest plucked by birds, just for the off chances of fun.

But the two of there remain, looking exactly the same, as in the very beginning, remaining still there even if the high rain came, the two keep on, the colour never changing, always the brightest of red.

Nobody even thinking of picking them off anymore, simply letting the two berries to stay put there, as if they should, the reason unknown, guess it’s just because the all want to keep the myth alive, at least for a while.

Turquoise

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“The deep blues, the turquoise hues, the waters surface, cannot hide” Gun Roswell

Turquoise

Dive in, I know you want to do it! 

The blues beckoning on a warm day, so just, step in!

The water’s still rather cool, at least inside the pool

Don’t be a fool and miss the opportunity before afternoon

After the sun having heated the soothing liquid

So just be real quick about it and take the plunge

It’s almost time for lunch and a quick dive

Really cannot do any harm, simply pull out a smile

And give a feeling of total divine

At least for a while before the heat catches up again

Today

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“It’s another day, today, that is, they always seem to follow each other, the days that is“ Gun Roswell

Today

So. Today started, unwinding along, as the clocks of the house ticked too strong. One hour, two hours, more. The clock never stops. Ticking, that is. 

It’s a constant, that of time moving forward, and even if one tries to push, really, really hard, it’s totally useless. The time, never stops.

So, today, is just another yesterday. A day among many. All of them moving along, quite steady.

As do I. Just observing, watching, glaring, ignoring. Those days in a row, passing by. What could be more fun? Sitting in my high tower, but never knowing the power, of spending a day to the fullest.

Star Wars the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch, the Mandalorian and the Book of Boba Fett FanFiction – new stories posted on ao3 and fanfic.net

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Gun Roswell's avatarGun Roswell

The Bad Batch

I have uploaded several stories of fan fiction on Archive of Our Own (AO3) and FanFiction.net of the adventures of The Bad Batch, Star Wars The Clone Wars, The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett!

These tales follow completely original story lines diverging from the Star Wars canon. All of them being pure fan fiction aka Fanon. Naturally! Still paying homage to the original series.

Go check them out here on AO3:
Together Again 
A Comfort Place
Late, for a Date! 
Comms Channel Open!
The Missing Helmet
Tech’s Hands 
Mission Impossible!
Midnight Snack
The Clone from the Pasta crossover from the Bad Batch to the Book of Boba Fett and the Mandalorian, involving time travel through the space time continuum.

I’ve started two new stories, which are work in progress:
Trouble in Clone Haven, which is…

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Summer Vibes

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“Summer is definitely still here, as per proof, the hot weather, skimpy outfits and reddish sunburns, which really do hurt! And those, are just few of the vibes, of the summer’s jive!“ Gun Roswell

Summer Vibes

Summer is always such a special time for most of us anyway. As it comes by every now and again. And while summer only lasts for a brief moment in time. Perhaps it is just fine. As then, it is much more easy to admire. All that it is. to worship the plentitude of nature as it hits. Out of the blue, all green, yellow and well, blue too. Take it all in, let it grab your heart and then you too can sing. As soon enough, the rough of the upon coming fall. Followed only by the cold and harsh of winter stalls, all the time in the world. While seemingly lasting forever. But will make the Summer Time, feel so much more better.

Paris nights in Monochrome

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“The darkening night, with plenty of artificial light, in Paris only!” Gun Roswell 

Paris nights in Monochrome 

The night upon, staying strong, the darkness never scary, so feeling daring, venturing into the streets of the city, because the lights are on, and there are plenty of, all kinds, the paths lit, to the hilt, and ain’t that just sweet, as this is, Paris, the city of lights, or something similar I think I once heard, but yeah, gorgeous, lively and totally cliche, but would not want to kiss any of it, the beat, the people, the ambiance. As only so, in the land of France.

Cafe on a quiet street

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“The early morning hours, without a rush in sight, enjoying a cup or two, on the quiet street’s cafe I can easily choose” Gun Roswell

Cafe on a quiet street

The quaint and old school feel, even if it does all seem quite unreal, as if having been thrown back in time, sensing the ghost from the past, seated there, with me, watching and observing the odd arrival, and even longe ager when I have passed this place, they will still remain.

The quiet street at the end of the cul-de-sac, is a must and a fact, a hidden gem, which can only be found with effort and perhaps, when on a whim, to look for something different, the cafe with a hint and a nudge nudge wink.