Mouse, Sausage, and Bird Short Story Fairy TaleOnce upon a time, in a very cold and hostile world, there lived three large rats of the race Skay Wayal deep in the jungle. Their names were Mouse, Sausage, and Bird. All three were cousins, who had inherited a cozy cottage from their late grandfather Moon. They were each unique in their own way, and they each had their own role to fill around the house.Mouse, Sausage, and Bird Short Story Fairy Tale3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mouse was short and brown and skinny. His whiskers were tiny, his ears were big, and his nose was pink. It was his role in life to fetch water from the well and to make sure that the fireplace was well maintained so that the cottage was always warm.
Sausage was short and black and fat. His whiskers were long, his ears were small, and his nose was white. His role in life was to cook all the food for himself and his cousins- breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, and all the snacks in between so that they may never starve.
Bird was tall and white and stocky. He was strong and fast and brave. It was his duty in life as mandated by their late
The King who wore the Obsidian Crown There once was a King who wore an obsidian crown,The King who wore the Obsidian Crown3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
His mistress was cold and she wore an obsidian gown,
His body was cold and his face was cursed by a perpetual frown,
His skin was pale and his eyes always stared down....
---Ancient fable and song told and sung since the Dawn of Ages
Ode to the Berserker“Nicolaus, pause for a moment to consider the folly of your actions.Ode to the Berserker3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I once observed Nikon chop a tree down with his bare hands,
Witnessed him tear the belly out of a ferocious whale whilst underwater,
Watched as he wrestled a female sabertooth into submission,
Watched as he tore thirty of the King’s finest men into little red pieces right in front of the throne,
And after all that was done he bit the chin off the jester.
Yes Nicolaus, I said he bit the chin off the jester.
Relinquish your sword young lad,
You won’t be able to defeat this man with steel nor strength,
In this task we shall use the golden apple.”
-----Exact words uttered by Origenes of House Haema as he and his nephew of the same House, Nicolaus, conspired to murder the famous berserker Nikon with poison. As recorded by several unobserved and anonymous court chroniclers and agents of the Matriarch.
Ode to the RogueHide your jewels and shield your maidens,Ode to the Rogue3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Guard your gold and watch your wives,
Trust no man,
Who carries around lock picks and knives,
For they shall be the ones,
To plunder your hard-earned treasure,
Wear the crown,
Despite not being the true successor,
Steal the pretty girls,
Whilst disguised as a beggar,
Leeching from all,
To satiate their own pleasure,
Veiled by the night,
And protected by stormy weather,
Often acting when it is dark,
And you can hear thunder,
Rogues live to capitalize off of,
Your slightest blunder!
-------Ode to the Rogue
Warm BloodWarm blood fallsWarm Blood3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
in red rivulets,
Weeping from five wounds
to form lovely quintets,
Warm blood oozes from
holes in hues of black,
Leaking from pores,
And descending in
streams down the back,
Warm blood departs
from the veins,
That are fueled by the heart,
A strong man accepts that
the essence of his life
is soon to depart,
Clutching his sword
whilst watching the red,
The absence of warm blood
soon left him dead...
-----Nameless Samurai dying from his wounds
UnfairUnfair5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You know, what's not fair?
Being unable to control your own life
It's true, that you can choose who you want to be
Who you want to be with
What your going to do
But he annoying part is when you know what you want
what you need, and your desires and wishes and dreams
And being stuck waiting.. On things that you can't control
And not knowing what's going or happen or why your goals
Cant be accomplished in other words I hate waiting on others
It's awful and frustrating not being able to control everything.
Unfortunately that's part of life . And this happens to everyone
We all have those stupid pot wholes in our rode to life and we all fall into them..
Even so, Why the heck do I have to have a pot whole too?!
Couldn't everyone else have one except me?!!!
That's what I consider unfair!
Blegh! It sucks!
Now if you all excuse me,
I'll be trying to climb out this darn thing
DC: You'll Never KnowDC: You'll Never Know11 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
You'll Never Know
Written: September 2004
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Author's note: The best part about writing this, besides pretending I was working in class, was picking out everyone's Christmas presents.
Dedication: To my big sister Puddle. She loves Christmas and winter more than anyone will ever know. Or care to hear about.
You'll Never Know
Every so often I trotted. Eventually, I'd just fall into the same slow stride, snapped to attention by another gust of frozen air. I was still only halfway home, and it was hard to tell the difference between ten minutes and three hours when it's that cold. And maybe when you're in love. Either amount of time seems like forever, standing, waiting, needing to see him. Then the house lit up, and I ran. My heart took a jump and must've e
An Analysis of Deviant Art's AsshatteryAn Analysis of Deviant Art's Asshattery4 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
As many of us are well aware, there are many fundamental issues with the way Deviant Art functions as a website. The site is often slow or all-out unresponsive, people have no privacy and protection, and other problems exist that the staff simply doesn't care to resolve. Despite these problems and many others, the most we see in the way of site updates is aesthetic tweaks and piddly, unnecessary destination re-routes.
As far as I can gather, there are four basic issues with Deviant Art that desperately need to be changed. There are probably more, but they will be saved for a later article if they are brought to my attention. Each issue I see will be discussed and solutions will be proposed. It is not necessarily my hope to receive a Daily Deviation on this, and I certainly don't expect the staff to actually take it into consideration, but I do hope to at least share my thoughts on the issues I've experienced in my 2.5 years as a De
Mouri Ran's Side, Chapter 1Mouri Ran's Side, Chapter 19 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"So... You're taking Conan back overseas with you?" A teenage female sat on a couch, across from an older woman with dark hair. The teenager was wearing a high school uniform, a blue blazer, green necktie, white shirt, and blue pleaded skirt. Her crystal blue eyes seemed intent, curious, and inquiring. But that masked the real emotions she was having: remorse, worry, loneliness, and worst of all: Reluctance.
The other woman was dressed up in a female business suit, but with a ruffled, lacy white neckpiece. Her hair was done up in a bun. She gave a small, curt nod.
"Yes. We can finally bring him with us. My husband and I found a very good school for him to go to as well. So you needn't worry about his education. He's old enough to take care of himself now too." The woman smiled warmly.
"Oh. Alright then. I was betting Conan was getting anxious and homesick as well. He's very good at hiding his feelings, but I'm pretty sure he missed his parents very much." The girl replied. What are
if you can't stand --my mother flicksif you can't stand --2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the flame
under the black
in the lamp-light
when she sees me
and boils over
my head hits
the bittersweet wall-to-wall
cosmos in my eyes
under the table
like evenings of liver
onions limas and sit
there until you eat
i guard the injuries
turning from indigo
You've Got a Conan Obsession22 Signs That You Watch Too Much Detective ConanYou've Got a Conan Obsession6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When you enter a room you say, "Detective (Name) has arrived."
You are constantly trying to solve little "crimes" that happen within your house.
You snoop around Wal-Mart like you're doing something important.
You ARE doing something important; there was a bald man who littered earlier and you're hot on his trail!
You pull that classic annoyed face whenever somebody does something stupid.
You point out the obvious.
You wish two men in black would give you a shrinking drug.
You're parents are more concerned than they were when you were a ninja.
You own a bowtie now.
Your bowtie is red.
You rock at soccer now.
You bought a tan trench coat and magnifying glass.
You tricked out your skateboard.
You're constantly on the look out for trouble.
You constantly quote Conan.
You seem to be watching more 48 Hours Mystery than before.
You Googled whether or not there were really high school detectives in Japan.
You've recently become a Sherlock Holme
Volpi.You will find that the story you tellVolpi.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
Reassurance - BBC Sherlock FFSherlock distinctly remembers a slight smile on John's face just as he pulled the trigger, the short man had pulled himself to his feet and managed to control his breathing, and just at the corners of his mouth, his lips were turned up and Sherlock could just see the slight shine in his eyes. John's smile is the last thing he fully remembers before the explosion, after that he can recall darkness and water stinging his eyes and then a burst if pain. Then there is nothing, until now.Reassurance - BBC Sherlock FF5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"It's been three days " A worried voice suddenly says above him, one he attributes to Mrs Hudson, who in his minds eye is wringing her hands and looking concerned like she does whenever Sherlock gets in trouble.
"It's perfectly natural he'll need longer than that, head wounds are very dangerous, his body needs time to heal." The second voice jumps out from the darkness, and he hears the door open and close, understanding the man has left.
Ah. He understands why Mrs Hudson is watching him now.
colors.red is a power color.colors.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
red is stoplights, anger. rage.
red is my nose when i cry about my parents.
“women are more attractive to men
when they wear red,” he says once
so you cut yourself
because red is blood
and when he ignores the bandages, you say,
“no. look what i did.
look what i did for you.”
but he doesn’t fall in love with you
red is the scream that
comes out of your mouth.
blue is the veins under your skin and
blue is depression that tells you to slice them
blue is the weeks you spend after him
and blue is the great, wide sky above you,
trying to remind you that the rest of the world
is still waiting.
your brother says he’s looking for the light
at the end of the tunnel
but the world is full of light.
(you would know. we can hardly see the stars
because of it.)
the world is not full of you
so you try.
black is what surrounds him
and black is burns
and you’ve been burned, scalded
so you blend in.
The Madness Of Kings...The Madness Of Kings...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Upon a throne of whispers he sits,
His ears filled with secrets and lies...
His favor, once given, is easily withdrawn
And whoever displeases him DIES!
The points of his golden crown drip with the blood
Of a thousand unfortunate souls
Who attempted to flee from his terrible reign,
But expired instead in the mud...
His mad cold dark eyes shifting this way and that
As he seeks out whom he may devour--
His Majesty sneers, drool pours from his lips
As he reaches his finalmost hour!
Lightning from Heaven strikes down the Mad King;
In the dust he now gibbers and crawls...
Pride goeth before destruction, 'tis said,
Cry Freedom for All, for the Tyrant is dead!
Wish Who Were Here?Wish Who Were Here?4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Shortened friendship 'cause sanity I lack;
I never thought of how it'd be
the moment LSD helped me crack.
Now the '60s sit alone with me.
The fame and success started its attack
and you went on silently.
Destroyed mind brings the dagger to my back;
no music made could set me free.
Replace the face of the friend you erased
after the first death.
Embrace your bass, just in case
I make you deal again.
I was never one to boast.
Popularity was something I wasn't looking for.
You claimed to miss me the most;
So much that it was me you ignored.
Not me, were you any longer engrossed,
but you were with David Gilmour.
I never traded my heroes for ghosts.
I just never wanted a war.
Replace the face of the friend you erased
after the first death.
Embrace your bass, just in case
I make you deal again.
With me gone, who would write?
You were passed the power.
You wrote about me shining bright.
Then The Wall turned you sour.
Dominance would cause a fight
in the Final C
Psychedelia 1: The PupilHere.Psychedelia 1: The Pupil8 years ago in Open More Like This
I remember feeling present:
In this now with every moment sweeping by me
leaving me untouched.
I forgot the Now,
my 'real' and my 'ego' sense of the world.
It felt wonderful to be a baby in the arms of the earth again
pushed to the bosom of the planet
It felt wonderful never to be separated from Mother
the 'as we know it' reality
There were spirals
red and blue and indigo
spinining tight, cocentric patterns
I knew what it was to be dead
My pupil op
The Three People to See Sherlock's HeartThe Three People to See Sherlock's Heart4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock Holmes had a heart. A strong, athletically trained (from all that running, climbing, and jumping of course) moderately healthy considering the abuse it had had to take, heart. After all, he was still young.
Sherlock Holmes' heart beat at fifty beats per minute when at rest, and upwards to near two hundred when he was running really hard. These were the facts. He'd never had a murmur or a skipped beat in his life- Sherlock's heart was as practical to his uses and as mechanical as the rest of him.
Or so he thought.
The first one to notice that Sherlock Holmes possessed a much more tender heart than anyone else ever thought was Mrs. Hudson. Sure, Mycroft in his own way had noticed a kind of vulnerable and soft spot near his brother's impenetrable center, but he possessed the same rational that Sherlock did and paid little attention. Mrs. Hudson on the other hand saw something in this callous young detective, the way his silvery eyes sparked with excitement when he would talk of h
Psychedelia2: Shaman's prayerevery nerve on fire with the wash of motherPsychedelia2: Shaman's prayer8 years ago in Open More Like This
the capsule of us
we are healed inside ourselves
we are healed inside each other
no fuel left for anger and pride
the ancient rhythm washes us over
a terror of coming wisdom so acute, sometimes, it seemed as if we were dying of it
dying and being reborn all the time
these lovely rebirths of the spirit
shells extracted from shells extracted from shells
stripping self down to primal being
i am not a human
i am animal
house cat sometimes
to swing on the midnight pathway and lead me back to sense and reason
we were wrapped together by fate
stink of acrid sage in the night
acid wisdom floating up
we don't eat before the trip
we stay real in the flesh
spirit floating up to leave
(but we left before a long time ago)
the medicine man
dancing with the spirits of his protectors
(there is protection)
we are opened
we breathe into th
Your loveYour love3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your love is a burden,
Yet for me a praise,
You're an angel,
Who's fear is in his way,
Light is all around you,
But in shadows you lay,
Through life they may have taken a lot from you,
But I'm there for you to stay.
What he needed - Eiji MotosuwaIt's something special as he takes the microphone and screams. The crowd is a wave of anticipation, and the sigh of relief that comes with his voice almost drowns the beautiful sound it makes. He screams louder. He decides they're ready, and so he sings.What he needed - Eiji Motosuwa7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He doesn't care about the rest of the band, which will eventually be the end of them. The audience is only here for him, anyway, everyone knows that. All the more attention to him when he finally decided to ditch them.
He always wanted to be special, after all.
Eiji wasn't an old vampire by any means, but he had never settled. He wanted to be amazing, and he worked every moment he could to make sure he was. Every moment that wasn't sleep, he was preparing for something, a chance to own everyone.
This is what he needed.
He had always been the right hand man, always shining the light on someone else. Working for Merdoch, for Adair, and then for Lysander (which was really the jumpstart of his recent career change). It had alway