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(#3) Bailed Bail and Irony
(#3) Bailed Bail and Irony
It was the perfect blend of smoker’s cough and catchy doo-wop if it was played off tune on a dusty chalkboard. Harvey was more than tone deaf. His humming defied tone. It transcended it, killed it with a pitchfork, and carved the fifth circle of hell in its tortured corpse.
Mariela pressed her forehead and took a deep breath. The old man’s been at his post sleep serenade for a good thirty minutes and she never wished harder for anything’s cessation. It was the kind of sound that felt like its own presence, its own malevolence that wormed its way into the skull. She tried to ignore it but it was feeding her headache.
Emery
(#2) You Only Get One Phone Call
(#2) You Only Get One Phone Call
Mariela and Emery were both in denial about being arrested. It was only when they were in handcuff, in front of a holding cell, being lectured about proper prison etiquette by a zombie clerk named Mr. Dally that the shock of it fully set in.
“And most importantly,” Dally croaked, holding up a gangrened finger in warning, “if I catch either of you mixing wine in that toilet bowl over there you can expect another five years added to your sentence. I lost my smell 10 years ago but that stuff stinks to high heaven.”
“Why would anyone want to drink where they crap?” Emery asked more out of a shock-induced curi
(#1) Hard Time for Petty Crimes
(#1) Hard Time for Petty Crimes
Mariela wondered if the slurping noise was really necessary.
The interrogating officer sat across from Mariela, painstakingly sifting through her file. It was the same routine. He licked his thumb, turned the page, and shook his head with disapproval. His gray caterpillar eyebrows always managed to inch a little closer towards the center of his forehead.
But the slurping--oh God, the slurping! Every time his thumb touched his lip--sluurp! At first, it was just a detail that blended into the monotony of this place. Now it took up all her attention. With all her pent up energy, she felt the persistent itch to just reach across the table and y
Hollow Grove Character Profiles [Master List]
Hollow Grove Character Profiles [Master List]
Since I dedicated an obscene amount of time to these characters in the last year, this was inevitable.
Around June, I think, during a bit of a writing funk, I decided to try my hand at some character profiles. I honestly didn’t know where to begin. I’ve done something like character profiles before but I wanted to do something a bit more organized and thorough while also being somewhat easy to tackle. I decided to take a few notes from Jenna Moreci’s book (actually her video "How to Create A Character Profile")and carved up an outline similar to her five pillars.
They are divided thusly:
Basic Stats (Names, Nicknames, Eth
The Holy Cleaver
Settling Old Scores
Settling Old Scores
Phil thought that hag had been lying to him.
Ms. M was known for having some shady dealings in the dust market and wasn’t afraid of ripping the heart out of any client that she thought was pulling a fast one on her. Despite being in her employ all his life, she made no secret of her impatience with him to deliver up on some debts. When she told him that he was being sent out here to settle some old score, he thought it was a trap to off him as soon as he hit the quarantine zone.
But this place proved to be a genuine gold mine. He gleefully yanked another golden molar from a hapless skull. The jaw crumbled to dust through his fingers a
Mommy's Big Bath Boy
Mommy's Big Bath Boy
Do you know what’s worst than being caught on a sweaty, crowded bus on your way downtown during rush hour?
Being caught on said crowded bus in a rented tuxedo with a bright pink bouquet of flowers pressed to your chest.
Brandon could die from the embarrassment he was feeling right now. Quite literally. The devil-may-care way the driver was clipping corners was the universe trying to do him a favor.
He felt the eyes of the passengers everywhere. Every person that entered the bus, every person above him hanging on the railings, the people watching him on the congested streets outside were staring. There was an old woman who kept smilin
Light A Candle/ For Your Perusal
Light A Candle/ For Your Perusal
Idella had a tradition.
Around the first week of the year, she would go down to the local Witch Market for the same supplies: pellets of paraffin, six-inch cotton wicks, and a fragrance oil that caught her fancy. Rose water one year, vanilla bourbon another, honey lavender the next. She’d carve out a few hours deliberating over the quality, pondering over fragrance mixtures and chatting with a Hilda sister about the latest advances in chandlery. Once everything was said and done, she’d hold her chosen items close to her chest as she walked up the counter to make her purchase.
When she made it home, she locked these items away in
Junk Food
Junk Food
The pawnbroker will suffer a heart attack if he didn’t stop clogging his arteries with fast food. The veins in his neck stood out prominently beneath the folds of fat under his chin. Or maybe I was just hungry and my senses were being thrown into overdrive. Even junk food smelled appetizing.
My friend Cale was struggling to keep his head up. He was trying to go for an easygoing pose with his head perched on his palm to eschew suspicion. It looked like it took every ounce of concentration to keep up the pretense, his head occasionally falling to one side when his muscles were worn out by the strain. He kept the sleeve of his other hand
Something Nominal
Something Nominal
I’m better at coming up with titles than their content
I wrote three times today
Most were filled with endless non-sequitur
Some actual plot
An unoriginal idea
We are six days in the eighth month
And we continue to count down the death of another year
They all seem so short
Though we perceive the future as an endless stream
That leads to another that seems just as far away
My words are finite
You could count them
And measure their worth
Most have multiple meanings
But I limit them by context
I preen possibilities
And put them down a chute of abstraction
And here we are repeating countless turns of phrases
That has been repeated just
See all
(#3) Bailed Bail and Irony
(#3) Bailed Bail and Irony
It was the perfect blend of smoker’s cough and catchy doo-wop if it was played off tune on a dusty chalkboard. Harvey was more than tone deaf. His humming defied tone. It transcended it, killed it with a pitchfork, and carved the fifth circle of hell in its tortured corpse.
Mariela pressed her forehead and took a deep breath. The old man’s been at his post sleep serenade for a good thirty minutes and she never wished harder for anything’s cessation. It was the kind of sound that felt like its own presence, its own malevolence that wormed its way into the skull. She tried to ignore it but it was feeding her headache.
Emery
(#2) You Only Get One Phone Call
(#2) You Only Get One Phone Call
Mariela and Emery were both in denial about being arrested. It was only when they were in handcuff, in front of a holding cell, being lectured about proper prison etiquette by a zombie clerk named Mr. Dally that the shock of it fully set in.
“And most importantly,” Dally croaked, holding up a gangrened finger in warning, “if I catch either of you mixing wine in that toilet bowl over there you can expect another five years added to your sentence. I lost my smell 10 years ago but that stuff stinks to high heaven.”
“Why would anyone want to drink where they crap?” Emery asked more out of a shock-induced curi
(#1) Hard Time for Petty Crimes
(#1) Hard Time for Petty Crimes
Mariela wondered if the slurping noise was really necessary.
The interrogating officer sat across from Mariela, painstakingly sifting through her file. It was the same routine. He licked his thumb, turned the page, and shook his head with disapproval. His gray caterpillar eyebrows always managed to inch a little closer towards the center of his forehead.
But the slurping--oh God, the slurping! Every time his thumb touched his lip--sluurp! At first, it was just a detail that blended into the monotony of this place. Now it took up all her attention. With all her pent up energy, she felt the persistent itch to just reach across the table and y
Hollow Grove Character Profiles [Master List]
Hollow Grove Character Profiles [Master List]
Since I dedicated an obscene amount of time to these characters in the last year, this was inevitable.
Around June, I think, during a bit of a writing funk, I decided to try my hand at some character profiles. I honestly didn’t know where to begin. I’ve done something like character profiles before but I wanted to do something a bit more organized and thorough while also being somewhat easy to tackle. I decided to take a few notes from Jenna Moreci’s book (actually her video "How to Create A Character Profile")and carved up an outline similar to her five pillars.
They are divided thusly:
Basic Stats (Names, Nicknames, Eth
Settling Old Scores
Settling Old Scores
Phil thought that hag had been lying to him.
Ms. M was known for having some shady dealings in the dust market and wasn’t afraid of ripping the heart out of any client that she thought was pulling a fast one on her. Despite being in her employ all his life, she made no secret of her impatience with him to deliver up on some debts. When she told him that he was being sent out here to settle some old score, he thought it was a trap to off him as soon as he hit the quarantine zone.
But this place proved to be a genuine gold mine. He gleefully yanked another golden molar from a hapless skull. The jaw crumbled to dust through his fingers a
Mommy's Big Bath Boy
Mommy's Big Bath Boy
Do you know what’s worst than being caught on a sweaty, crowded bus on your way downtown during rush hour?
Being caught on said crowded bus in a rented tuxedo with a bright pink bouquet of flowers pressed to your chest.
Brandon could die from the embarrassment he was feeling right now. Quite literally. The devil-may-care way the driver was clipping corners was the universe trying to do him a favor.
He felt the eyes of the passengers everywhere. Every person that entered the bus, every person above him hanging on the railings, the people watching him on the congested streets outside were staring. There was an old woman who kept smilin
Light A Candle/ For Your Perusal
Light A Candle/ For Your Perusal
Idella had a tradition.
Around the first week of the year, she would go down to the local Witch Market for the same supplies: pellets of paraffin, six-inch cotton wicks, and a fragrance oil that caught her fancy. Rose water one year, vanilla bourbon another, honey lavender the next. She’d carve out a few hours deliberating over the quality, pondering over fragrance mixtures and chatting with a Hilda sister about the latest advances in chandlery. Once everything was said and done, she’d hold her chosen items close to her chest as she walked up the counter to make her purchase.
When she made it home, she locked these items away in
Junk Food
Junk Food
The pawnbroker will suffer a heart attack if he didn’t stop clogging his arteries with fast food. The veins in his neck stood out prominently beneath the folds of fat under his chin. Or maybe I was just hungry and my senses were being thrown into overdrive. Even junk food smelled appetizing.
My friend Cale was struggling to keep his head up. He was trying to go for an easygoing pose with his head perched on his palm to eschew suspicion. It looked like it took every ounce of concentration to keep up the pretense, his head occasionally falling to one side when his muscles were worn out by the strain. He kept the sleeve of his other hand
Something Nominal
Something Nominal
I’m better at coming up with titles than their content
I wrote three times today
Most were filled with endless non-sequitur
Some actual plot
An unoriginal idea
We are six days in the eighth month
And we continue to count down the death of another year
They all seem so short
Though we perceive the future as an endless stream
That leads to another that seems just as far away
My words are finite
You could count them
And measure their worth
Most have multiple meanings
But I limit them by context
I preen possibilities
And put them down a chute of abstraction
And here we are repeating countless turns of phrases
That has been repeated just
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The Outsider
The Outsider
There's a malicious taint to the unfamiliar. Something that shakes and bewilders and brings a special ire to the most affable of communities.
One can never quite get used to having all that you knew about yourself being uprooted and torn asunder by forces beyond your control. Ever since the year of my birth, I’ve been three different nationalities. It’s hard to swear fealty to one’s homeland when it’s not even sure what it wants to be. Spain one moment, Mexico the next, and finally Texas with promises of an American future. The ever-shifting tides of history move forward. But the stain of the foreign follows you no ma
''The Grand Tour''
''The Grand Tour''
Hollow Grove is a rather curious town. I’m at a loss of how else to describe it.
Though many of its residents whisper about supernatural happenings--which is intriguing in its own right-- I’m much more fascinated by their daily interactions. The minutiae of the every day that they seem to take for granted. Their little microcosm is so beyond anything I’m personally used to.
I’m well used to the small-town experience. There’s something very isolating about it. Most have traditions and creeds ingrained with age and organization that are rather hard to challenge. Same could be said for any community where the powe
Man on the Corner
Man on the Corner
Mrs. Lucinda Dowell is the town gossip in a town full of gossips. She reigns supreme above them because it’s her main job outside of her seamstress work. Her prominent nose and eyes are always searching, always curious. She pushes out her lip as she rises to her feet.
“It’s unnatural, I tell ya.” Mrs. Dowell leans further against the window, the pinnacle of surreptitiousness. “He’s just standing there.”
The morning patrons of John’s Tavern all nod their heads at Dowell’s proclamation, some while nursing their morning whiskey.
Mr. Burress, an older gentleman, sat across from her. He sipp
Rakes and Scoundrels
Rakes and Scoundrels
Phineas Gage is starting up trouble again. He and Karl Tanner always get into rows if you put enough whiskey in them. They quarrel about petty things. This time it was a look on Tanner’s part that Gage took the wrong way. He takes everything the wrong way since he got hit with an iron a few weeks back.
I think the whole thing could’ve been avoided if we booted the both of them an hour ago but Papa’s remiss to do so with those who can pay. Papa and Sam are breaking it up downstairs. They sent me upstairs under the foolish pretense of sparing me the ordeal. I would laugh if it wasn’t so troubling. I’ve witnessed
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Artist // Hobbyist // Literature
- July 21
- United States
- Deviant for 4 years
- She / Her
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My Bio
An odd 20-something whose main obsessions center around music and literature. She spends a good deal of her time with her head in the clouds where she creates worlds and characters that end up tightly bound in one of her many notebooks. When she comes down, you can find her slaving away at her laptop screen parsing out her addled musings and the mysteries of the English language.
She’s a recent(ish) college graduate with B.As in English and History who, at this point, is still trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life. Her time at a certain Midwestern university has cultivated her skills in research and communication, particularly of the written variety. It has also instilled in her a deeper passion for literature and all things written.
Outside creative interest, her other hobbies include spending hours listening to music, overthinking life, and over analysis of everything she loves in television and movies.
In summary, she tends to overthink things.
My Other Haunts:
Wordpress
Tumblr
Goodreads
She’s a recent(ish) college graduate with B.As in English and History who, at this point, is still trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life. Her time at a certain Midwestern university has cultivated her skills in research and communication, particularly of the written variety. It has also instilled in her a deeper passion for literature and all things written.
Outside creative interest, her other hobbies include spending hours listening to music, overthinking life, and over analysis of everything she loves in television and movies.
In summary, she tends to overthink things.
My Other Haunts:
Wordpress
Tumblr
Goodreads
Favourite Visual Artist
Jun Mochizuki, Katsura Hoshino
Favourite Movies
(500) Days of Summer, Guardians of the Galaxy, Most Disney Movies (But Treasure Planet and The Great Mouse Detective especially)
Favourite TV Shows
Over the Garden Wall, Parks & Rec, Jane the Virgin, Doctor Who, Merlin, Sherlock, D. Gray Man
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
A lot (said out of fear that if I try to list them all I'll miss one)
Favourite Books
Moonstone, Wuthering Heights, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Homegoing, Sherlock Holmes, Harry Potter Series, Radium Girls, and a whole lot more. I'm also willing to find out more so don't be afraid to drop a suggestion!
Favourite Writers
Wilkie Collins, J. K. Rowling, Ron Chernow, Edgar Allan Poe
Favourite Games
Kingdom Hearts (This has been true since middle school. It may never change)
Tools of the Trade
Blue and Black Pens, Fresh Notebook Paper, and a Temperamental Laptop
Other Interests
Anime, manga
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Happy Birthday! -2019
Hi there! I just wanted to thank you for the 
on my recent Daily Deviation, You Are Here: Part 1. Have an amazing day!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! Whooo!
Happy Birthday!
Thank you so much, Sleyf!!!
Thanks for the favourite! 
Thank you for the favorite on the first chapter of Fever in the Fire. It's always great seeing new readers.