|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Our AnthemI sang the anthem of my people
Hoping that in doing, I’d find my crowd;
The ones who, like I,
Have a public face oh so very different
From the one which is real.
I sang the anthem of my people
As I walked the paths new to me,
and watched each face
to find some trace of recognition.
Day’s end has now come,
And I cannot help but wonder
Have I lost the tune? The melody?
Do they sing our anthem different here?
My door is open, the signs I thought clear
Displayed for all to see if they but look.
Yet I wonder, must I the anthem relearn;
Or are our numbers here so few
That we simply haven’t crossed paths yet?
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 Bear Girls
If I told you this story happened once upon a time, would you believe it then?
Perhaps, perhaps not.
Whether you believe me or choose not to, it happened. There were two little girls, and a bear.
And that is all I know.
At least, it is all I know for certain.
You were expecting more, weren't you? Very well.
One little girl was blonde, with skin white as snow, the other rosy and raven-tressed, so they say, but that doesn't seem very likely unless they weren't sisters at all, and I have always assumed they were sisters. It is almost inevitable that they were sisters. No story ever says much about the father. He was dead, or abandoned them. Perhaps they had two different ones. It's impossible to say.
I could tell you the girls were beautiful princesses who ran into the great dark forest to escape their wicked stepmother. Or perhaps they were abandoned by their poor woodcutter father who could no longer afford to feed them but could not stand to see them starve. Or were they just two ordin
Imagina, Mundos paraleros y Creepys (Creepysx___)Mundos paralelos 1/¿¿¿¿????
Era de noche y como siempre estaba leyendo un Creepy me llamo la atencion uno ___(TN) The Killer y era asi (es la misma historia que Jeff solo que en vercion mujer y la ropa era la misma solo que era mujer se entiende XD)
Jeff: OMG por el Rubius me enamore!!! <3
*en la primera noche*
se queda despierto abrasando un peluche en su cama y arropado de pies a cabesa
Jeff:.... no pueedo dormir............ nose...... YASE!!! James The Killer me protegerme (vercio masculina de Jane) pero el tambien mata....... Mierda!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jeff: pensandolo vien como le voy a tener miedo a una chica.... que fue eso!!!!!!! -entra un pajaro por la venta- na.. es solo un pajaro
Jeff: pensandolo bien en las imagenes de ____ (TN) se ve tan sdadsadsadasdadasdasd hermosa *-* creo que no seria mala idea secuestrarla -se queda despierto pensando como secuestrar a ___ (TN) osea lleva 3 noches si
GirlBarely under the shallow waters, she remained and surveyed the hillsides on the outer reaches, among the cool breezes, under a mild sun. Young girl noticed the circulation was on, undulations fluttered passed her, making light hills and valleys on the surface. She lowered her sight, thinking then of the texture of the bright blue pavement at her feet. All her range of feeling tuned to some mild volume, Girl remembered the pale afternoon shine, just a moment before a dark ingredient mixed with it, filling the light ripples with grayness. Girl’s eyes, still upon the area of her feet, observed the light blue pavement under the shallow pool reshuffle, quietly as the waters, into the pavement approaching the Funeral House.
Girl stood in the shadow of its front roofing, between the columns. Not far in the direction of her shoulder, the grasses weaving in and out of the burial stones rose and fell, faintly. She extended her gaze out this way, a
[Tarot vs. Kenny] Preventative Lesson"Oh KEN~NY!"
Oh this was going to be good. Tarot was a lot of things, but tolerant of threats he was not. Of course, Kenny MIGHT have been simply teasing when he said 'Hmm, well, lemme tell you a little secret....I live by a very strict code to never, ever eat humans, under any circumstances. However....I do like the occasional monkey every now and then.' Of course, the look had implied that Kenny wasn't talking about any of Tarot's underlings but rather Tarot himself. And naturally, threatening the self-proclaimed Monkey King with being made into a meal didn't sit well with Tarot. In fact, he'd lost some sleep over it. His paranoia was one thing when it came to day to day interactions with folks but Kenny was different. Kenny was one of the few people Tarot was sure could follow through on that threat--and while the roguish Monkey King couldn't deny that Kenny's tummy was more than pleasant to look at on the outside he wasn't sure he wanted to see it from the inside
Don't Miff the Monkey King"See, now, Kenny, this is why you don't ever want do stupid things. You do stupid things and I have to reciprocate by doing something clever to teach you the difference."
Tarot sat on the naga's back, legs crossed and his balance perfectly even as he looked down at the struggling naga under him. On one end, Kenny's tail was wrapped around the post, only barely clinging to the hold he had on it. On the other end, Kenny's finger tips clutched at the edge of the stone floor. And beneath him, yawning open into the darkness below was the trap that Tarot had laid for the naga...
It had been simple enough. Tarot, leading Kenny into the 'Monkey King's' so-called palace and temple under the guise of goodwill, had led the naga through the various pathways, explaining that since he was now the King of Monkeys (and a handsome one at that), that he wanted to give Kenny the grand tour of the hidden temple that had up until now been a home for many of the primates in the jungle, with the promise to e
Snow In A Moonlight RoomWallpaper pealed itself from walls, cracks raced each other across the ceiling. The broken window of the far wall let in snow, which rode in upon each passing gust of freezing air. Floorboards creaked underfoot as i took a step inside the dilapidated room, searching for anything out of the ordinary, all clear. Once i had checked again to make sure nothing was going to blow my heart out of my chest i made my way into the room and carried on walking until i reached the far wall. I took a quick peek out of what was left of the window, turned to face the door and then...well and then i sat down on my ass cross-legged and waited.
Okay, okay you don't need to shout. I already know how anti-climatic this all sounds, you wanted me to come blasting through the door with fire spouting from one hand, a witty comment on the tip of my tongue and have me reeking of bad-assery.
I apologize for that, but in my defense there is one hell of a long list as to why none of those things happened
Snow KittensSomeone is prodding him insistently. A nose, or maybe a paw, digging uncomfortably into his soft side. In his ear, a voice registers. "Belly! Belly, wake up!" He is not awake. He doesn't understand at all what's going on. Confused and groggy, he feebly kicks his legs. The voice - Dove's voice - hisses quietly in annoyance. "Get UP!"
The prickle of nubby milk teeth and drool collecting on his ear is still not enough to get the kit up. Sounding a little resigned, another voice comments, "He's really out. I don't think he's waking up." There's a response from Dove, but the words are muffled by her mouthful of Belly's ear. He tries to flick it away, but she retains her grip, and starts gnawing.
He's slowly starting to take note of what's going on. As he wriggles and furrows his brow, Zuzu pipes up. "Let him be, Dove. We're missing it!" The impatient thump of her paws on the packed dirt towards the entrance to the den. "And be quiet, guys, or you'll wake Papa and Mamas!" Dove, still
ArrivalThe forest was covered in a thick, white blanket. The soft rustling of the falling snow muffled the scrunching of the lone wanderer's footsteps. Her hair had the same colour as the snow around her and her worn down parka was hard to see against the confers around her. The imprint of her feet were quickly filled by freshly fallen snow. The lone wanderer was on her way down the mountain. In a long forgotten time ago, her father's court had been up there, but now, there were only rock and snow left for her. Staying up there alone would not help her and she knew it. The way down would be exhausting for a human, but the wanderer wasn't one. She wasn't even mortal, as she had discovered to her own surprise. But that didn't make her careless. It would be a shame if she would get caught by an avalanche. This was her home and her domain, after all. It had been way too long since her last visit. It was good to be back, even though things had changed. The air was differently and glaciers had retr
Seasell meets Kei Seasell disliked being teased about not having a boyfriend. She hated when Aslin and Travis mentioned it.
"I'm waiting for Blackie!"
Seasell frowned, shoving her hands into her pockets. Aslin shook her head and Travis smiled, innocently rolling an empty soda can across the floor to where Seasell's tail rested on the carpet.
"Seasell, we understand that you have a history with this guy, but you haven't spoken to him in months," Aslin sighed.
"Fuuu! You don't understand. I know you care and everything . . . but I need you to leave me alone. I'm visiting the hospital on the weekend"
"Sea," yawned Travis "you said that last week. But you didn't go"
"I worked overtime"
"And the week before"
"I had a stomach ache!"
Seasell bit her lip and angrily slashed through the pop can.
"I'm . . . going for a walk"
Seasell slammed the apartment door without meaning to, and walked Aslin's bike down the narrow hall.
How're ya feeling?
No, thank you
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
Keep in Touch!
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