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Permanent LinesThe position was not a comfortable one, and while Madison didn't fully understand all that was going on, she understood it's necessity. The room was sterile, white and chilly as she lay on her stomach, supported by a chair that was highly reminiscent of one she might find at the local dentist's, though modified to support her entire body more securely.
Any discomfort from the padded chair remained background noise as Madison tried not to focus on the scratching sensation from her back. The light chatter that the physcian beside her maintained was not enough, that was certain as she braced herself agains the sharp strokes, trying to prevent herself from shivering in pain. From what she could see from the corner of her eyes, Madison connected the sharp scratching that reached across her shoulders, along the top of her shoulder blades and now down her neck with the array of colored, unnaturelly stiff and sharp-ponted permanent makers that rested in a tray lined with sterile packagi
The Sound of DesperationIt had started as a counseling session, everyone meeting in a small group of age mates, but even after the first meeting, when they sat in silence, it was clear that something more was needed. For weeks they continued to meet twice a week, forced to sit in a circle in a room that was locked until the hour was up. After a month, they began to speak, finally giving voice to the depths of their souls, and the nightmares that lived within.
"I could kid myself into thinking I'm fine," Becca said, her voice starting steady despite the fact that she was the first to break the silence, "but I'm not. I'm tired of living these lies, and I just want to be done with it all. Everyone knows that a broken heart is blind, but no one really knows what to do with a broken brain. If it's not a vegetable, they shrug it off, saying it's fine, and tell you to do the same. It doesn't work that way. It just doesn't work that way. They say our bodies will heal, and that it will take time for
Living DreamsIf life is but a dream, what does that make our dreams? And if, not by your own will, each day becomes more of a nightmare than the last, what is it that makes us keep on pushing through? When the question of life becomes why, rather than how we struggle on for the next day’s dawning, why doesn’t anyone realize what’s really going on? For too long we’ve played their game, by their rules, and today that ends. All my fears, all my fears, my insecurities, anything that might have been used against me- they all fall away like tears when I contemplate the fact that each tomorrow brings a new day, each twenty-four hours closer to freedom. We all know that they’ll try to choke our rising hopes with fleeting fears carefully crafted to appear our own, but the fact that we know them not to be our own is a stronger force yet. We may not march against our enemies, our captors, but we shall stand as a strong tower to protect those who cannot yet stand alone. One
Drianus's choiceHe reached into his pocket, slowly wrapping his long fingers into a fist around the ring of his forefathers. Contemplating his options only revealed that, in the long run, he really had no choice. Sometimes, the words echoed in his mind as he forcefully ignored the memories of his surrogate father, sometimes, the only way to fight evil was to employ a greater evil whether one agreed with it or not. By the end of the day, only one thing would really matter: whether or not the throne remained in the family line.
If took a season of exile for people to realize just how corrupted things had become, so be it. He had seen exile, and very nearly raised his family within it's cool embrace. Drianus had spent many long agonizing hours turning things over in his mind, hoping to find another way for things to change, but found nothing. He would face battle tomorrow, leading the best of his men into the fray without a second thought. If giving his life in battle was required of him, it
Part of the JobThe sun gently warmed his back as he walked along the crowded street. He knew, though, that the pleasant feeling would not last long once he entered the apothecary that stood as the entrance to the rest of the Guild Halls. There was a certain satisfaction in a job completed in a silent and efficient manner, but Mortael held fast to the lingering taste of bitter regret that always followed his thoughts. The darkness of night only expounded them when he had nothing else to keep his thoughts away from the realities of his chosen line of work. The taste of regret was, as far as he knew, the only way that he could maintain his tenuous grasp of rational sanity. Silently, the assassin slipped through the stone-lined walls where the shadows from the torches danced in his wake. None would bother him this day, not unless he took the initiative and reached out to them first. A disturbed assassin was not to be bothered so soon after a completed mission, no matter what the reason.
The Blood OathI bought my fate straight from hell. What you need to understand here and now is that this is the embodiment of our fear, the vessel of our rage, and the harbinger of your doom. It may seem like a cut and dry matter, especially to one such as yourself, but know that it is anything but. Everything that we do and say is focused around that one concept alone; the sooner you figure out what that means for yourself, the better, as you'll actually start to fit in with us, strange as we are to your kind. My fate, the mirrored reflection of the fate of my people, is one that circumvents generations at a time, insidious weaving its way through our history. This oath, whether you acknowledge it or not, will affect your every dying day as we attempt to make the best of what's been left for us in this wasted world.
I chose my fate the day that I answered the king's call with heart and soul, and I now pay the price for what I have done in answering the Blood Oath's infernal need fo
Returning HomeI woke up to despise the world that I once loved. The sound of the fan in the next room is deceptively similar to the sound of the gentle rain that has gently woken me these past few mornings. For one blissful moment longer, I can pretend that things have not changed, and that when I open my eyes, the dim autumn lights will be filtered through the thick canvas wall of my rug lined pavilion. The thought is a comforting one until the undisturbed quiet is broken by the harsh blaring of my painfully electronic alarm, reminding me that cannot be so.
Blindly, I reach out and silence it before rolling over, pulling my heavy wool cloak back over my head in the same motion. It is entirely too early to face the fact that I'll be pouring myself a bowl of overly processed, prepackaged and artificially preserved cold cereal. Instead, I'd much rather it be my usual boiled grains prepared over a crackling fire, built from yesterday's carefully covered coals. It is an odd realization, but I
Rise of the Ice Kings: The Dream"Play for me, Brandhol." Rathiel begged upon the second evening of eldest brother’s short respite at home."Play your whistle again, please? It's been so long since you played!"
"That's because I've been gone so long, silly," he replied, digging out his tin whistle from an inner pocket of his thick cloak. After a few short trills to warm up his fingers, he began to play a song that seemed to grow and mature as it progressed. Rathiel grinned and began to dance a few bars into the seemingly light-hearted tune.
The children's uncle, Hedhel, sent home from war on permanent furlough lay on the rug, dozing before the dying fire. At the sound of his nephew's playing, he bolted upright, staring wildly at Brandhol for a moment before calming slightly. "I think it's time that you find your bed, Rathiel," he said hoarsely.
Silien looked up from her darning in surprise,"Goodness, child!" she exclaimed, "You should have been in bed almost an hour ago! Hurry and change now, I'll be along
The Final StrawJason Rathen almost ignored the gentle taping on his office door, thinking that the sound originated from further down the hall, but the hesitant sound came a second time, only slightly more audible. Rathen stood and opened the door to be greeted by the person that he least expected and most hoped to see. "Hello, Jessie!"
Jessie nodded, worrying her lower lip in thinly veiled distress. "I... I'm sorry about practice, earlier," she said, rapidly forcing the words out.
"Why don't you come in," Rathen suggested, gesturing towards the other chair in his prop- and book-stuffed office, "and we can talk about what happened earlier this afternoon, if you'd like."
The suggestion was more of a mild order, but Jessie either didn't notice, or ignored it as she nodded and gingerly perched on the edge of the offered chair, grasping her books against her chest.
Professor Rathen took his time in mostly closing the door, and resettling a stack of papers that had been distu
Character Development - Zee1.What position does your character sleep in?
Curled around anything and everything she's sleeping with. She's rather clingy in her sleep
2.Does your character have any noteworthy features? Freckles? Dimples? A scar somewhere unusual?
A set of double horns and a long tail being the most noticeable. Other than that, she has piercings: left eyebrow, spetum, right madonna, snake bites, tongue, belly button, and several bone guages through her ears. Runes: A yellow 'X' on her right shoulder, a green Druidic mark on her left shoulder, and an orange heart w/ broken chain on the back of her neck. She's also got tattoos on her face, simple vertical lines under her eyes.
3.Does your character have an accent? What does it sound like?
The barest hint of a Troll accent
4.Do they have any verbal tics? Do they have trouble pronouncing certain words or getting their thoughts across clearly?
she's emotionally crippled in a way, after a lifetime of mental abuse. She's gett
Just Another Second In My HeadSo, here we are at the end of the world. Well when I say world I mean the end of the human race’s input upon things. No more pollution, carbon fumes will be gone, no more coke cans on the street or McDonalds burger wrappers flying in the air. It’s just going to be nature from now on, like it should have been from the beginning, just the animals, the plants and the trees.
It’s funny really; I spent my whole life trying to save the people on this stinky piece of rock. I spent every day trying to make people happy. Trying to make their lives just that little bit more bearable and for what? So I can sit here in the back garden, with the lukewarm rain pouring over me as I watch a war unfold in front of my very eyes. Okay, So I may have been the one to start this war but that doesn’t mean I had to do it or anything…I just got bored one day and me and my blue eyed friend over there who is currently riding a narwhal, ran out of pie and figure that we should
Who ate my chocolate icecream!? (Sniper x Reader)You stomp into the living quarters of RED and all 9 men are in here.
They don't notice you walk in, so you throw the empty tub of ice cream down on the ground and men look up from there card game or what ever they where doing.
"WHO DID THIS!?" You scream. You where furious you kept a mini freezer and fridge in your room for a reason.
They all look at you surprised, you where kind of a quiet one but its 'that time of the month again' and you had no more freaking ice cream because of one of these IMBECILES!
"WHO ATE. THE. ONLY. ICE. CREAM. I. HAD. LEFT!? IT'S IN MY ROOM FOR A REASON. IT MEANS NO TOUCHY TOUCHY!"
A few men like Pyro, Heavy, Medic, Solider "Oh no,I am not getting into this mess you finish this" and then Spy left.
"So. Who is it? Hmmm..Was it you scouttt?" you say walking to him. He quickly shakes his head and says "I don't even like chocolate ice cream! I'm out!" He quickly gets up and runs out.
Hmm just Sniper, Engie, Demo (he was passed out in a chair so I guess no him),
[Hypno/Tickling] The Better CheaterIt was really hard to pick out just who had decided to start cheating first.Of course, mostly likely they both decided they were going to cheat the moment they agreed to have their little contest--the question was who did it first. Like most things, it started out as a simple joke. Tarot had noted that his and Kenny's arms were about the same size...
"So, I guess the python has pythons?" the cocky thief snickered one day, looking over the mass of muscle that was Kenny's left arm.
"Hah-hah--" the naga replied with a faux laugh. "That would actually have been funny if I was a python--unfortunately, I'm a boa. HUGE difference."
"Can't imagine how. Boa's have heads that are different than pythons--but since you've got a human head I'm pretty sure that you couldn't expect anyone to know that." Tarot seemed largely indifferent that his little joke had fallen flat but still didn't seem to lose any of his steam. After their last little encounter, he had found himself spending more time with Ke
[Transformation] The Djinn ForgeThe said it was perhaps one of the oddest and most incredible inventions of magical technology in the history of the Alaghan. A forging together of the engineering of mankind, the magic of the ages and the rituals of the primal past. And while it was more or less lost to the anals of history, Tarot had found it.
The Djinn Forge.
According to the legends, by placing in a series of required offerings to the ancient gods and saying the proper chants at the proper times, one could stand before the alter and the machine would forge together whatever the user asked for, just like a djinn of old. Granted the required offerings was unknown, the time was a mystery and, well--most chalked it up to legends and fairy tales. But it was on such tales that Tarot thrived and so he went about seeking it out all the same.
And he struck the proverbial gold, finally. After some digging and exploring in various temples, he finally found the thing, hidden deep within the deserts just beyond Little Ala-Mhigo
Fragance of the roses“The Fragrance of Roses”
Made by Lynette M. Morel Martínez
Nine kingdoms shared the marvelous garden; four gods and five goddesses ruled their respective lands. One land with a mystical forest was North Lamerica, ruled by Loura, Earth’s spirit; she was a lovely woman, with a long green hair that ended on her waist and was graceful on beauty. She always uses a silky green robe to meditate on North Lamerica’s quiet landscape. The kingdom next from North Lamerica was Uerto Irco, ruled by the god of the wind Ryuk, a quiet, yet nostalgic male. He was a tall man, with a short dark blue hair like the ocean at night, and had clear blue eyes like the sky. His land had a topical touch, with beautiful peach sands and a clear sea. He always used comfortable yet fresh cloths because of the weat
Twenty Word StorySometimes she thought about death and the people it came with. It seemed strange, to be fond of the idea.
Times the Night (Welcoming)t's been a while since I've played a horror map that just got real...
I was alone checking my messages in my server, that's when I got a message from Bodil... It said,
I wanna tell you about a horror map that was made by an unknown username and I got two invitations for one of my friends, the invitation has my name and your name. We should go! I really wanna check it out!! So would you like to come?
It did seen a bit odd for me but that didn't really bug me, beside I had nothing good to do!
Later that day I when with Bodil, we both wanted to know how we could arrive there but it looked like it was already on.
"I can't wait to see who else is gonna be there!" He said
I looked at him.
"There's gonna be more people?"
"Yea it turns out that there's gonna be a few big minecraft Youtubers there too!"
'Thank Notch were not alone... Something's not right....'
When we got to the server there was a path of red stonetorches, a bedrock path, th
143And Girl takes a breath. In. Out. In. Lungs catch and stutter and she moves from under the portico on steady legs. The light is calm and flat. Yellow blossoms spring from brown earth and delicate motes fall in an elaborate dance of everything. “Where is my brother . . .?” she whispers. Tones tilt-shift and light throws itself sideways. Hues come undone in bafflement, disjointed to the bone. Girl laughs. It was the Funeral House that did it, messed up the rendering leaving things thin. It kicked her in some way, watching the roof tiles slide. Made her smile. Girl clasped an ancient Oreo between her jaws and held on.
The house reared away from her laughter, a disembodied caretaker given notice of theft. The ancients of Funeral House, in their burrowed and dreaming nooks, slumbered on. Girl dropped adamantine thoughts at my feet and I came awake. The Old Ones fell from my hands into the crimson stellar sands.
Pearl thoughts, stitch-dropped and loose, touched my skin as my hand
Picnic Suppers with FriendsThe hearty and slightly sweet scent of freshly baked bread wafted over the row of merchant stalls, subtly drawing us towards the next row, where both the show-cased blacksmiths and baker had set up their shops.
"I don't know about you two, but my stomach's about to turn inside out on itself," Captain said as we meandered through the crowds, browsing our choices.
"As is mine," I agreed wholeheartedly, "and if you two aren't opposed to something rather hearty, I'll treat you to the perfect cure."
"If you're talking about the baking bread that I've been smelling for the past ten minutes," Ranelwen replied. "There's no need to ask twice!"
"Perfect," I replied. "If I'm not much mistaken, I think that's a rye bread of some kind in the ovens now."
"I"ll chip in with some soup to split between us," the pirate added. "Make a meal of it."
"Sounds lovely," I agreed. "Meet us back here in a bit to find somewhere to settle down?"
After her nod of agreement, we split ways as Ranelwen and I lif
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More