Ode to the Paladin Not even ghosts dare whisper where he walks,Ode to the Paladin3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Not even the damned dare object when he speaks,
Monsters shun his company and the undead shirk his sight,
The bite of his sword is the wrath of the gods,
To go against him, is to go against both the Savior and the Eternal.
We better be prepared.
----Forgotten Villain's note to Another Forgotten Villian concerning an unamed Paladin
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
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.
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
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
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
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 Asshattery3 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
You've Got a Conan Obsession22 Signs That You Watch Too Much Detective ConanYou've Got a Conan Obsession5 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
Mouri Ran's Side, Chapter 1Mouri Ran's Side, Chapter 18 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
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
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
una flor en el bolsillo - poemauna flor en el bolsillo - poema3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Su elegancia y belleza
Es de la envidia provocar
Es entonces como una fuerte yegua
O lustrados zapatos que engalanen el andar
Risa de algodón y mirada glasear
Sus ojos reflejantes, hermosos como el cristal
Es entonces la imagen del éxito
Del caballero a su lado un lindo complemento
Es entonces una sonrisa
La fachada de una casa distinguida
Un nuevo sombrero con plumajes en la punta
Busca sus imperfecciones, no encontraras ni una
Tiene piel de porcelana y delicada figura
Los contornos de su rostro provocan singular ternura
Ella irradia calidez fuera de sus dientes
Tiene las entrañas heladas aunque eso ya no cuente
Su sola silueta provoca suspiros
La pareja perfecta del genero masculino
Es entonces unos labios de cerezo
Dorados adornos y botones convexos
Tersas manos que tocan el piano
Una melodía tranquila que escuchar en verano
Cabello brillante y tan fino
Alguien que llevar del brazo, que camine contigo
Es entonces su importancia tal
Como una flor en el bolsillo
'Post War'- Part I - 'The visit' - Chapter III'Post War'- Part I - 'The visit' - Chapter III4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The front door opened into a small sitting room. As Evelyn expected, the room was pretty much like the sitting room of her own house in dimensions and just as dingy. Unlike her oddly well-decorated sitting room though, the dreary atmosphere at the Snapes house was compounded by the rather drab choice of furniture and colours. Everything was brown and sepia, and the scant décor seemed to be right out of a low-budget late 50s early 60s movie, with lots of odd trinkets scattered about. An old armchair in front of the cast iron fireplace fireplace was in dire need of reupholstering, as was the small dark russet leather couch in the middle of the room, and the rug was in even worst condition.
What did strike her, however, was the sheer amount of books. They covered every single wall from top to bottom, leaving almost no space empty. In fact there were so many of them, that it just looked as if they sprouted about like overgrown plants in an unkept garden. The shelves were f
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.
SH: The Boy and His SkullSH: The Boy and His Skull5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"I don't understand these grades at all, isn't he settling in?"
Sherlock was up in his room and he could hear his father's voice downstairs the slightly pleading note in it that the man always got when he was trying desperately to understand something that confused him which, in this intellectually acute household, was often.
"I mean, I understand that the move to secondary school has been hard on Sherlock, but these are just.....I mean, he's a very clever child, I don't understand. How can he fail everything?"
"Weren't you supposed to be looking out for him, Mycroft?" he heard his mother accuse, her voice stronger, attempting to take action. Having been a teacher herself some years ago, she rather dominated this conversation, pushing his father back to only making empathetic but generally useless comments.
"I can only do so much, mum." Mycroft replied, sounding offended. "I can hardly force him to make friends, or participate in class, and if he doesn't bloody well sp
Magical Past 2: Cupcakes and FrostingSarah was spending that day at a friend’s house. Catherine and her mom were baking cupcakes and then frosting and decorating them. Sarah tried not to be jealous, because her mom didn’t like to have her in the kitchen and making a mess. So this was a special treat for the six-year old.Magical Past 2: Cupcakes and Frosting2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Catherine’s mom carefully supervised the mixing and baking, the removing from the oven, and allowing the cupcakes awhile to cool. During the cooling, Sarah and Catherine went outside to run around and play. They laughed and had a wonderful time. They actually seemed to have even more laughter and joy than usual. Catherine’s mom smiled as she kept an eye on them, completely unworried.
In fact, Sarah and Catherine had a playmate there with them. He had a quick smile and an infectious laugh. He was taller than they, by about a half a head, like an eight-year-old. He could run so fast that they never even saw him move. His hair was kind of messy, and longer than any boy that <i>
NBC: Titleless Ch. 6In the month and a half since Ryan was introduced to Lock and Barrel, a couple of things had happened.NBC: Titleless Ch. 65 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Firstly, Barrel had finally decided to introduce his girlfriend, Candy, to his cohorts.
Apparently he was very afraid of how she would be treated by them, considering they had been dating for nearly four months by the time she was invited over.
To spite the ghoul's fears, however, the meeting actually went fairly well. At the very least, Lock didn't ask the young woman if she was a homosexual, though if he had, it would have been a very stupid question, considering the fact that she was dating Barrel at the time.
However, there was one thing that had bothered the two of them, and that was her appearance.
It wasn't that she was ugly. Far from it, actually. She was probably one of the more attractive girls in Halloweentown.
The problem was....she didn't look like she belonged in Halloweentown.
Almost everything, from her shoulder length wavy light brown hair, to her outfit (a short-slee
'Post War' Part I - 'The visit' - Chapter IV (End)Chapter IV'Post War' Part I - 'The visit' - Chapter IV (End)4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Severus wasn´t really sure why he had let her in. The mention of his mother´s name had certainly disarmed him at first, but come to think of it how could that woman possibly know about Eileen? The true Eileen Snape, the witch, not the long suffering wife of Tobias Snape, the neighbourhood´s drunk. Whatever it was this Evelyn Black had to talk to him about was probably just some trivial muggle matter...Maybe something to do with the numerous debts his mother had contracted trying to make ends meet and clean up after his father´s messes...Over the years he had gotten many of those visits, but his years working in Hogwarts and having very few personal expenses had allowed him the means to sort out the finances of the Snape family after his parents´ deaths. Luckily Gringotts made currency exchanges with muggle money.
Even so, that someone would look for her to collect a debt after twenty years of her passing was just a bit too bizarre... And t
blue.her eyes are like the sky,blue.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
her hair is like the clouds.
no one laughs at her when she makes a joke.
no one smiles when her bare feet
hit the blacktop
and the sidewalk cracks.
and all the world's her grayscale, the only color
a musty shade of blue
strung in her hair.
and she thinks of her first memory
as she lets go of the balloons in her hands
and they rise as she falls and screams at the world that everything will become a picture
in a history book one day.
her lips are melting ice
and her cheeks are dead and pale.
her hair is wet
her eyes are lost
her hand, once clasped
around a wispy lifeline,
is now limp.
she floats like an ethereal
spread across a dream
that drags her to the deepest ocean
LunaDama preciosa de vestimenta elegante,Luna3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
que te desnudas y dejas relucir esa piel
tersa, clara y radiante.
Amante de mis noches de desvelo,
mi dulce, fría y cálida
compañera en mis noches de anhelo.
Tu rostro es de melancolía,
tus cabellos de plata
y tu voz, una bella sinfonía.
Dejame entrar en tu mares eternos,
en tus costas virgenes y blanquecinas
que sólo he visto en sueños.
Son de pasión esas noches cuando te tiñes de rojo
de locura, muerte y magias ocuras
cuando me manipulas a tu antojo.
Y cuando el hechizo de tus labios me atrapa,
la lujuría y el placer se desbordan
porque de tu encanto ni siquiera la luna escapa.