How to smoosh a sandwichI start by finding the already half-squished loaf of bread hanging out by the pile of neglected dishes. The counter is a hideous black, tan, and white speckled mess of color and nearly impossible to tell if its dirty just from sight, so I run my fingers over the top. Seems clean enough. I put a paper towel down for good measure. It takes me a couple tries, but eventually I wrangle a clean-cut sheet from the cheap roll of thin paper.More Like This
Now construction can start.
I peel out two slices of bread and neatly line them up on the paper towel, the bottom corners of each slice touching and mirroring each other almost perfectly. I go to the fridge to get the bologna, but I find a package of ham instead. No idea how old it is, but I grab it anyway. I also find brand new bags of fresh cheese from the deli. The friends fiance must have gotten it. That's the only way we'd have new food in the house otherwise. So I take that too. I snatch the mustard out just before the door closes.
The ham goes on fir
Ferrets on ParadeMore Like This
Once upon a mountain on a very early day,
A ferret went to town in her usual happy way.
She dances and flips and she leaps and spins around,
Always knowing where her toes would touch the ground.
She tripped then she tumbled,
And fell in a bush of rose.
Standing up she mumbled,
"Now I've got petals up my nose "
Here I sing alone with new friends to be made,
Awake you sleeping sparrows, there's a ferret on parade!
In a little valley on that same early day,
Another happy weasel went outside to play.
Her arms are full of toys and they are unlike all others,
They are real and alive and they come in many colors.
With a giant grin she riddled,
"A Ferret I am and Something is my name."
"Meet my friends," she giggled,
"I'm sure they're all insane!"
Here we sing together with our friends we have made,
Get up you dozing dogs, two ferrets are on parade!
Beyond a broken tower and on that very day,
A warrior went to battle with a beast he was to slay.
The gleam of a shield and a mighty sword in
*flailment*THE OFFICIAL SPECIES FEATURE JOURNALMore Like This
'Tokotas', created by noebelle
:iconTokotas: wolf/bears, how cool is that!?
I hope you don't mind me linking your Tokotas in my species feature journal. I'll remove them if you'd prefer me to not to
'Skydogs', created by Drodengera
(got two skydogs myself! ...well, not officially. But will be two after my custom is done!)
'Sea-Dogs', created by ichiqos !!
'Grimoirekin', created by FlightyFelon !!
Demyx Lets It GoWaves churn white on the ocean tonightMore Like This
And there’s no one to be seen.
A fortress of isolation -
Am I a prisoner or a king?
The surf keeps pounding
Like this perfect storm inside -
Couldn’t keep it in.
Wouldn’t know I tried.
That’s all I hear, that’s all I see -
“You’re nobody, that’s all you’ll ever be -
Can’t hurt, can’t feel, it’s just for show”…
Well, now I know…
Let it go, let it go,
Don’t hold me back anymore,
Let it go, let it go,
Turn away and slam the door,
I don’t care what you have to say,
Let the storm rage on,
The rain never bothered me anyway.
It’s funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small,
And the ones who once controlled me
Can’t get to me at all.
There’s nothing left for me to prove,
I’ll decide what I feel and what I do!
No chains, no bars, no hold on me…
Let it go, let it go,
I am one with the sea and sky,
Anyone doing Camp NaNoWriMo?Hi there! This year I'll be doing Camp NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) for the first time! I just wanted to know if there was anyone else doing it, who could possibly be my buddy throughout the whole thing. (whispers we can talk about our characters together )More Like This
The novel I'm going to (attempt to) write is called Animalia, which is still a working title. It's basically about..wait, I'm lazy, so I'm going to copy and paste the synopsis.
"Since the dawn of the human race, the animalia, a race of people born with two souls: one that is theirs, and that of an animal, have coexisted with humans, living alongside them in hiding. However, now there is tension amongst their ranks, rumors of another Great War, and a prophecy that will force the worlds of humans and animalia together."
Welp, that's about it. I have characters all drawn out, and I have SAI open right now and am working on the cover (heh). I think my novel has a unique series of events: it starts with the (still unnamed
Personal Demons“Do you even know what a demon is?”More Like This
Archibald Feeney had never considered himself an overly religious man, but he attended church every now and then, and read the gospel if there wasn’t anything good on the telly, and even said his prayers if there was a lull in his bedtime preparations. It was, however, still a bit of a shock to him when he ran face to face with his religion.
He had popped into the local pub for a fish and chips, having been late from work and disinterested in cooking. There might even be a pint in it for him, though he tried not to succumb to those urges too regularly. No more so than the vicar anyway, who stopped in every Saturday, as regular as clockwork.
It was while Feeney was nursing his lager and waiting for his meal that something came in and sat beside him. It was tall and lithe, with reddish skin that was only beginning to show signs of peeling from a mild burn. It wore no clothes, but its bottom half was clearly quite goat-like. The brown
Valentine's Day Art Exchange!More Like This
DIGITAL LOVE IS IN THE AIR!
The Valentine Exchange is back! We asked you to create Valentine-themed deviations and submit them to the Valentine Exchange category. Now, it’s time to send your love-filled deviations to your deviantART friends, family, and secret admirers! From February 12th to 19th, the “Send a Valentine” button has been activated on deviation pages for deviations in the Valentine Exchange category, so you can send your custom creations and valentines made by others. Love is in the air!
CREATE THE LOVE
Create Valentine-themed deviations and submit them to the
WatercolorWatch depthRADIUSMore Like This
Foreword by techgnotic
Christopher Behrens, the 7-year deviantART member contributing this wonderful history of watercolors to depthRADIUS, along with curating artists and interviews, is a modern renaissance man held in high regard by fans of his unique artistic vision. He is an independent filmmaker, author, and a masterful watercolorist in his own right. His gallery of works can be perused here.
Watercolor by ctbehrens
he history of painting begins with watercolor as it is the oldest painting med
Devil's TreatsShe had a breakdownMore Like This
Outside of Memphis
In a neighborhood too dark to see
She called on Jesus
"Please, come quickly!
I'm out of cigarettes and gasoline."
By the morning
She was rescued
And on the Mtrack to Colorado Springs
Lord, she kept crying
She said, "I think I'm dying...
Back in Jackson, I left all my things."
Now, she's walking
It's after midnight
She's drinking cheap wine on the L.A. streets
She knows the reason
For all her heartaches
But she's a sucker for the Devil's treats
On paper.On paper my thoughtsMore Like This
And I'm able to say
the words I can't speak.
As if it's my special journal
only for me and you to read.
Letter to letter
word to word.
I'll tell all my secrets
LoveLove isn't romantic walks on the beachMore Like This
Love is learning to accept and not preach
Love isn't falling asleep in his arms
Love is reassuring all qualms
Love isn't watching the sunset at dusk
Love is knowing she smells of musk
Love isn't buying her flowers each day
Love is saying the things hard to say
Love isn't writing a cheesy love song
Love is accepting that sometimes you're wrong
Love isn't easy and sometimes you're scarred
Love is a battle and it can be hard
Love isn't always the things you'd expect
Love is trying not to be circumspect
Love can be found for all walks of life
Love is not just for husband and wife
Love can be seen between friend and friend
Love is a treasure that lasts to the end
Love is as difficult as you make it be
Love is for you and love is for me
Love Potion No.999Love Potion No. 999More Like This
In the remotest corner of a wood
In a cottage made of pine
A woman of rare beauty* stood
Busy with tasks whether for evil or for good
After all, 't was her design
She was not a very tall person
She stood only 4 feet 9
Before her stood a cauldron of iron
Into which she sprinkled many things
Flower petals, aspen twigs,
Fragrant tidbits, pieces of figs,
Most of all, butterfly wings
Then she stood and blended them
Until she was certain it would be fine
"Ahhhh, it will be ready soon,
My love potion 999!"
Then she hurried off to find her lover
We all know what was in her mind
"Beloved! Try this for me, please!"
Mirage of a Desert Rose.The mirage of a desert roseMore Like This
its beauty was a foreign sight
its courage was a legend old
a jewel, no fool could have wore't-right.
A scholar wrote of its omnipotence
'omniscient its beauty was magnificence
not spited as the impotent, its pure timid nature
eluded those who sought its innocence'
many spoke quiet words of ignorance,
and those unable just labelled and loathed.
Invigorated by the vigor such a glimmer
of eternal inner-bliss, as the page unfolds
to dimmer lips, unspoken. what lies is a mystery unsolved.
Beauty was the inner-seed now forever whole
and though we'd forever bleed
beauty was the weathered soul.
Rippling red, ripening
the elegant rose now weaved,
in exuberant excitement reads;
the heart that opened and the rose that conceived.
The Man in the LinesStanding before us lies a gateMore Like This
Leading to a world filled with hate
We must begin carefully
Taking steps steadily
Least our dreams shredded and ate.
The path ahead leads to the Light
Though its stones are not of good sight.
You will discover then
What Life has truly been
When the time comes for you to fight.
When you find yourself in hard times
Crying yourself in sorrowed chimes
I will always be
your sweet melody
Written forever in these lines.
he cried because no one cried for himI found Death crying in the alleyway underneath my apartment window. He crouched, shaking and whimpering out his little mouse of a cry that was muffled by the rumbling cacophony of city night life. He didn't make himself seen and, like the child he was, huddled down and hid his face with his mitten-covered hands.More Like This
Death made eye contact with me as I watched him from the fire escape. He stared with bright blue eyes perfectly framed with long eye lashes. The chill bit and reddened his nose and cheeks, and his tears left frozen paths of black ice against his face. I didn't mean to, it was an accident, he pleaded with me.
I watched him as he shamefully picked up his victim, a tiny little kitten that was half frozen and curled tightly into itself. He tried to stroke it back to life, begging and pressing the small animal into his plush winter coat.
I'm sorry, he lisped, wiping snot onto his sleeve as he cradled the corpse like a beloved baby doll. My eyes followed his tiny
the travellerI moved to the starsMore Like This
to see the view
looking down on the world
with shining eyes
I moved to the moon
to camp on the dark side
in the morning
when I'm tired of myself
I sailed to the sun
to feel the heat kiss my lips
and flew back to earth
to see my love I so missed
The Star-Peddler"Sir, madam, have you ten cents to spare?"More Like This
The star-peddler's call was everywhere
Mittened hands reached out to accept
The young peddler's wooden stars.
Snow, so silver, twinkled down
Bathing all in pure white crown
And the star-peddler, dressed in rags
Continued down the bustling street.
But there was a tug. Pleading eyes
As blue as the yet-to-come spring skies
Asking for a star, but no coins to offer
To make a sick mother happy, at home.
The peddler was reluctant, but there was no reason
A voice told him: It's the giving season
And so the peddler gave a boy a free star
And noticed that the receiving hands were bare.
The boy turned away, to head back again
But the star-peddler warmly stretched out a hand
And pressed a second wooden star
Into the boy's shivering arms.
Four streets down, and two blocks across
A maternal figure turned and tossed
Feverishly, helpless in bed
When a small, warm hand enveloped hers.
A whisper was passed; some kisses were shared
And her fingers touc
The Paupers Who Saw the World It was fifty feet tall, and appeared to be made entirely out of smoke. When it spoke, it was with a voice of thunder. "You will bring me the Minotaurs of Doom," it said.More Like This
The two humans standing before it had heard this before. The smoke-creature had made the same demand earlier. "I already told you," shouted one of the humans. "One of the Minotaurs disappeared twenty-five years ago. The other one alone won't do you any good!"
"You two are time-travellers. Yes, I know these things. You will fetch both Minotaurs and bring them to me."
"What happens if we don't?"
"I have extended my... I do not know the word in English."
"Arms?" asked one of the humans.
"Tentacles?" suggested the other.
"No!" shouted the smoke-creature, lightning flashing angrily within it.
"Lightning! I have extended my lightning a
to shoreshe spent her daysMore Like This
with ears pressed to sea shells.
she didn't listen for the ocean;
she listened for the friend
she never found.
you always told me I was melodramaticI was cleaning my room todayMore Like This
(I know, a real shocker).
In the back of my bookshelf,
folded and tucked away,
I found your pictures,
and your letters,
and "best friend forever!"s;
All the birthday best wishes
that something deep inside me misses.
I was afraid of being lonely,
but now I fear a change.
The thought of possible rejection
keeps me tolerant of the pain.
So maybe I'm just crazy,
and maybe that's the whole problem
that keeps the same old story on repeat,
of how I've found 'best friends' and lost them.
Though writing this isn't easy,
I think it must be said,
for the more I avoid reality,
the more my soul feels dead.
IVdrag this pen across my skinMore Like This
scream sweet soliloquies
bleed ink and weep metaphors
cold knife to hold me tight
rhythmic rambling at its finest
no one reads my letters, anyway
Where Do I Start?One of the questions we often get about Relativity is "I want to read the series. Where do I start?" The quick answer: The beginning. Below is a chronological list of all of the Relativity stories and link to the deviantART versions. To start at the very beginning, read "Episode 1 - Lost & Found." Then simply keep going down the list.More Like This
As for the side-stories, they are not required reading, but they do offer interesting insights into the characters and their history. The easiest way to read them is to simply keep going once you reach the end of the regular episodes. If you wish to jump ahead, most of the side-stories can be read at any time. However, we do recommend that you read at least the first episode (Lost & Found) before starting them, as that will make understanding the story and characters a bit easier. That said, there are a few stories we feel
InkveinsWhen ink started flowing through my veinsMore Like This
I became truly happy.
When ink started flowing through my veins
I couldn't be sad.
Because death is peace.
Peace is happiness.
And ink instead of blood will kill you.
namelessYou know that kidMore Like This
That sits behind you?
You remember him, don't you?
You made fun of him
Because his clothes were funny
You don't know
His family is poor
You imitated him
Because he has a lisp
You don't care
He can't help it
You laughed at him
Because he can't read
You don't wonder
Why no one cared to teach him
You glared at him
When he tried to talk to you
Because you were embarrassed
That it hurt him
You saw him
Sitting alone at lunch
You stayed with your friends
Ignoring his existence
While he ate in silence
You saw the other boys
Pushing him around
You kept on walking
Pretending not to hear
While he suffered
He didn't come to school today
But deep down you know
Do you know what he was like?
What he liked to do?
What he wanted to be
When he grew up?
You learn his name
By reading the announcement
For his visitation
Star SwallowerShe'sMore Like This
her head, a stadium drowning with applause.
yet its seats are empty like the notebooks
where armies of words should be marching.
instead she dismantles clocks
thinking she can play with time.
behind the mountains lurks a darker reasoning
a twisted labyrinth of rationalizations
hidden from the suns brilliance.
Years alone beneath the bleached fluorescent
reading those already dancing in the moonlight.
she is living a literary half-life through them
hiding from the symmetry of the writer.
licking salty rocks of excuses.
saving her secrets for posthumous excavation.
decades of productivity left for moths to chew.
you're throwing coffins into the sea
with each day that passes wordless.
denying us the sweet whistles from inside your skull.
meaningful, impacting stories only you could pen.
Stop climbing broken staircases
towards the pale summer stars of obscurity.
these are still fruitful years of beauty.
remove your armor.
claw beyond your fears.
allow us into your wonderla
SnapIf I don't existMore Like This
Surely it won't hurt you
If I shatter the bones in your face
And if I'm just a lie
Surely you won't notice
If I put you back down in your place
And if I'm just a myth
Surely it won't scare you
That you don't even know I'm around
And if I'm just pretend
Surely it won't harm you
If I put you away in the ground
And if I'm none of these things
And I'm something quite different
A person, just like one of you
Does that scare you so much
That you'd maim us and kill us
For proving your worldview untrue?