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Literature
The Summit of the Trine Mountains
As your aching legs continue the relentless pull up this steep mountain path, the stairs once carved here worn away by generations of feet, ice and bitter wind, your eyes gently move up as the gradient begins to level out. In the early evening sky, the dying amber light of the sun is slowly, but surely, being overtaken by the blues and blacks of the night above you. One or two stars are already visible. You catch something in the middle distance as you continue - although the snow stopped some minutes ago, the wind is still billowing around fiercely, and with your hood and facial cover on, it’s difficult to identify how large the building ahead of you is until you’ve practically reached it. As if the Gods are satisfied with your endurance, the wind lessens in intensity as you approach. With a sudden rush of vertigo, you realise that this temple stands at the edge of a vast precipice at the edge of this mountaintop, overlooking the vast continent of Ufai below.
The temple it
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Literature
Reflections Through Another Year
Once, a long time ago, I was in a better place.
Oh, dear sweet Jesus, I was in a better place.
There were muscles on my abdomen. Definition. There was the early, young man stubble that betrayed a lack of early morning discipline, but was made up for (and then some) by the charm oozing from each and every pore, down to the wide grin and beaming eyes. And the way my hair… almost emitted light. The shine.
There was a reflection that I loved. Truly loved.
My teeth were white (well… less stained). I had few worries beyond an easy job and a daily cycle ride there and back.
I had ideas. I had hopes. I had such good intentions for myself and the people around me. My smile was sincere. There were fewer limitations on me - fewer shackles, heavily weighing on my body and mind.
Creativity flowed from me like a river- no, that's not right. A torrent. A waterfall. I was capable of taking ideas that came into my mind, transferring them to paper as easily as you would breathe. Now,
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Mature content
The Hundredth Blackguard :iconja-mes:Ja-mes 2 0
Literature
A Blinding Sky
“Hey.”
“What?”
“... Why is the sky blue?”
Trip looked up, following Ares’ gaze. “Good point. It is blue.”
“Why isn’t it orange, like normal?”
Trip frowned. “I don’t know.”
Something shuffled in the undergrowth nearby. The two friends swept around, their feet swishing through the fallen rembranch leaves as they stared at the bush from where the sudden shaking had emanated.
“Is someone there?”
Ares glanced at Trip, trying to hide any unease. Trip took a gentle step towards the bush, his arms slightly raised as he tried to keep his balance. Despite his attempted deftness, the leaves underfoot betrayed his movements. He gently moved closer. The bush stayed still. Ares squinted, trying to see if anything was behind it from where she was stood. It was very still indeed. Almost… too still.
Trip was now close enough to the bush to smell the fragrance of its palma flowers. His tail flicke
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Mature content
Goggles in Mireview :iconja-mes:Ja-mes 50 26
Literature
The Penny Drops
“Come on, Stu. Eat up.”
“Mmmmmmngh...”
“Acting like that won't get you anywhere, you know.”
I fixed him with as full a stare as I could muster, which wasn't much, given my state. He was a hazy apparition in my vision, loose, and blurred. God, my head hurt. I tried to say something with coherence.
“Well... when you're as hung over as I am right now, you start to stop caring.”
“What? Didn't hear that. Your vocal chords are working at too low a frequency to be picked up by human ears.”
He grinned. I didn't even pretend to share his apparent mirth, instead focusing on glaring. Evans raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Jeez, man. Chill out. You know, nothing cures post-drunkenness more quickly than a bacon sandwich. Like that one. That one there. The one I just made you.”
“What about black coffee?”
Evans glanced at his mug. “Well... yeah... I guess that's quite effective...”
“What about th
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Literature
Mr Darnfield talks with James
Mr D: James. Get over here now.
J: Oh... Okay...
Mr D: Hurry up.
J: Sorry...
Mr D: Dear God, James, look at you. Don't you think it's about time you got a haircut?
J: Sorry... I haven't had the time.
Mr D: By which you mean that you couldn't be bothered to go into town this weekend. You even had a day ticket for the bus on Sunday. You could have gone into town after church, but no! You had to come home and ass around all afternoon. Unbelievable.
J: I'm sorry... I just wanted some time alone. I wasn't feeling well.
Mr D: Ah. Yes. Of course... Well, do excuse me. It had temporarily slipped my mind... fever, was it?
J: ... yeah.
Mr D: Got in the way, didn't it? You promised that you'd take a trip to see friends this weekend. Didn't happen, did it? Convenient...
J: Hey. I don't like what you're implying. I wanted to go, but I was ill.
Mr D: Sounds to me like you need to man up a bit. You could have just taken the train anyway. You'd probably have been better by the time you got ther
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Literature
Litwak and Leaver - Part Four
Clyde edged towards the archway to Game Central Station from Pac Man's. He glanced around the left hand edge, sweeping his view around the vast station. Nobody was around. He sighed with relief. This wasn't unexpected: at this early hour of the morning, most people were still back at their games, recharging. But it was still nerve racking to come here – to risk being seen.
He floated quietly towards one of the benches at the centre of the plaza, glad of the dim light shining through the main window on the station's north side. Once there, he stopped, looking around nervously. Several tense minutes passed.
Clyde sniffed. She'd said that she would have met him here by now. Where was she?
“Hello, Clyde.”
He gasped and swept around. “Oh! Sonya! You... startled me.”
Sonya Blade was wearing tight fitting black leather trousers and a similarly dark tank top. She was clad in military gear, with pockets, straps and a badge revealing her rank. She was leaning agains
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Literature
The Phillip Letters - 2
Hello there Melanie!
It’s good to hear you have been enjoying the summer sun in all its goodness. Holidays are good for the soul. I do miss even the simple barbecue!
I enclose a little drawing for your niece. I was warmed by your encouragements, even if it has been years since I put down the paint brush! So I decided to sketch out a little something for her, seeing as you seem to love her so much. The pony on it grazes in a field near the village I live in. I hope she likes it!
Take my advice, my dear: don’t waste a single day of time with her! Childhood disappears as soon as you know it – soon to be replaced by that most chilling of things… adolescence…!
On that thought, I was watching an episode of ‘Question Time’ last night. They had as a guest some young celebrity (unfortunately I can’t tell you his name – I’d never heard of the fellow!). He was very insistent on voicing his own opinion. He made it clear that he expected
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Literature
Rethsvale - Zen Epilogue
The sun shone down brightly, but couldn't reach the ground. It was covered by the tops of the spidery trees that littered the woodland spreading for miles around. Shady shadows masked the sunlight, making the dead twigs that littered the earthy ground resemble dead insects, their limbs upturned and motionless in the dark. A hill gently rose to the north. Beyond the crest of this small hill, craters pock-marked the land. Black holes scarred what had been, mere hours ago, level ground. Now, smoldering soil was scattered across the woods; the only brightness that was visible emanated from some glowing twigs caught up in the inferno that had created the carnage. It was clear that there had recently been a violent and dangerous fight here, but the fires had thankfully died down now.
Suddenly, light burst from nowhere, casting stark shadows from between the spiny tree branches. It was so bright that everything was overwhelmed by it for a few moments.
Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the
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Literature
Litwak and Leaver - Part Three
Morning came without further incident. Litwak arrived at the arcade's parking lot later than he did on every other day of the week. Sunday was, strictly speaking, a day off, but he had some phone calls to make today about a new arcade machine being released next week and he didn't want to waste any time in buying it. Things moved quickly in his line of business.
He got out of his car, sighing as he inhaled the warm 10am air. He locked his car manually, and turned to walk towards the all too familiar arcade entrance.
He stopped short. The young man from last night was stood at the glass door. He was leaning on the wall beside it, his hands in his pockets, staring at Litwak intensely. Litwak's eyes widened as he resumed his walk. He felt a little intimidated by the boy's intense stare. He tried to sound as chirpy as he could as he approached the door, smiling kindly.
“Well now! I recognise you, son. What can I do for you? You realise the arcade isn't open today, right?”
The y
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Literature
Litwak and Leaver - Part Two
Jason crept back across the empty parking lot. Even though he knew the whole place was deserted at this time of the night, he still tried to stay as quiet as he could, betraying his nerves. He'd never done anything so rash before. He felt pathetic for having shaking hands about something so small. But in his mind, breaking into the arcade was huge.
He stopped at the front doors. Maybe he shouldn't do it. Jason stood there for several minutes.
Eventually, he stepped to one side and leant against the wall, raising his right hand to his forehead and running his fingers through his thick, brown, unkempt hair. He closed his eyes and sighed.
He shouldn't do it.
He stepped forward, ready to resume the walk home, delayed though it had been. For some reason, he couldn't help but glance back through the arcade doors, into the arcade beyond them.
He stopped. His mouth dropped, his body momentarily stunned. He jumped to the door, his hands pressed against the glass in disbelief.
The 'Dance Dance R
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Literature
Litwak and Leaver - Part One
Jason stood at the arcade machine, pushing buttons and jerking the joystick this way and that. He was enraptured, with a smile on his face and his tongue slightly stuck out of the corner of his mouth. As far as he was concerned, games could get as advanced as they wanted to, but he knew that the old classics were the best. And in his opinion, the best of the best was Street Fighter 2. He loved coming to the arcade every Saturday and spending $3 worth of quarters on playing this game... at the very least. It was always worth it.
He still remembered the first time he beat the game. By the time he got to the final boss, he had attracted a crowd. He felt like a hero once he beat M. Bison. He even got a round of applause from the kids around him. He was patted on the shoulder by guys years older than him. He couldn't remember feeling better. For the rest of that Saturday, he was a gaming god.
But that was a while ago now. Nobody seemed to care if he cleared Street Fighter 2 any more.
He had
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Literature
A Summer Afternoon in 2013.
'… from 1 upwards. Cuisinaire rods are distributed, in the following...'
“What are you reading?”
I looked up at my intruder. My younger sister was standing at my bedroom door, leaning against the door frame with a cheeky look on her face. I fixed my eyes back on the top of page 81, adjusting my place on my lovely, comfy bed. “It's a book about maths pedagogy.”
She pulled a face that resembled a curious mixture of confusion, but with an undertone of amusement. “Peda-what?”
I tried to suppress my annoyance. “Pedagogy. It means teaching technique.”
Her expression didn't change much, so I decided to elaborate.
“Look, it's like this. The way maths is taught right now is rubbish. It's boringly inaccessible to most students, who are forced to go – against their will most of the time – to classes taught by teachers they don't like. If I'm going to be a teacher, I'm going to be a good one, darn it, so I've got to kn
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Literature
Through the Glass
You'd be surprised how much time you can waste staring at glass. Having said that, the view from my bedroom window is lovely sometimes. When the sunset came through red this evening, it was spectacular, outlining the crests of the hills around the house I live in, every tree perfectly silhouetted, like you'd expect in some expensive, finely detailed painting hanging on someone else's wall somewhere.
Perhaps such a view would be better suited there.
After I graduated, I learned there was no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Beyond the world of spoon fed, mandatory academia – which makes addicts of us all – nothing was going to be given to me any more. Not money, not purpose, not fulfilment. That world had built a perfectly formed, invisible glass wall around me. It had given me shelter and security. It was a wall I didn't even know I was looking through until it shattered. Now the pieces were falling, and I realised that it was now my place to find money, purpose and fu
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Literature
The Phillip Letters - 1
Dear Melanie,
Many thanks for all of your prior correspondence. It means more to me than you probably know. These old bones of mine appreciate your dry humour, even if such cynicism is rather a shame in a girl of your relatively few years... to say nothing of mine! My tongue is firmly in my cheek as I write, my dear.
I acknowledge and accept your points about the US election, however to describe the Southern State demographic of the electorate as 'drooling, dim witted delinquents' I think may be unwise. We must be careful not to offend our American cousins - bear in mind that they are an adolescent nation, with much to learn about decorum, etiquette, and humility, much like young people in the Western world of today. How things have changed.
I remember as vividly as yesterday my so called 'teenage' years. Back then, you went from being a boy to a man almost instantly. There was none of this 'adolescence' that appears to have popped up since. In some ways, I feel rather cheated! I jest,
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Random Favourites

Journal
Writers of the Revolution, January 6th
Featured WRITER
ThornyEnglishRose
Featured by TheMaidenInBlack
I originally chose to go through this deviant's gallery because of her username. :giggle: I don't know if an English rose is a peculiar kind of rose or that's just a personal username choice, but it did make me discover a peculiar kind of writer.
Rosey's gallery is quite stunning: with a wide range of different themes from historical fiction to Flash Fiction to fixed form poetry and children's literature, you're sure to find something worth your time there. She writes with the skill and patience of someone who knows how much each words counts, and how to carry you swiftly through a story right to the end.

The Divine Inheritance
"'Better not take any chances with it on Sunday, then,' Sally said with a titter.  'It might have belonged to wicked Great-Great-Great-Aunt Millicent, or anyone.'"
I don't
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Literature
The Cyborg
A mess of wires, and an apathy for the human condition, uncaring eyes and a constant stream of electronic input, he works to please himself and nothing more, even at the inconvenience of others. A glowing device in his palm, relaying information from others like him, his head wired to another contraption in his pocket, he blends in perfectly with the surroundings. The vast majority of his input is vapid and vacuous, a stream of media behind shielded, darkened lenses.
Most of his motion is autopilot, so absorbed in his world. He jaywalks in front of cars without flinching at their blaring horns, or leaves carts in parking stalls, or, valuing himself over mere mortals, cuts right in front in lines of people, much to the outrage of the humans, behind.
He glances at his device again as it reads "U up 4 Pizza 2nite?"
"Ya, u'll never guess wut just happened, sum jerk blasted his horn rite n my ear."
He changes to the latest top forty on his MP3 player and puts his cell away. He continues to
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Journal
The Pick'N'Mix contest!
It's finally here, ladies and gentlemen. After announcing it last week, we're officially releasing our latest contest today.
UPDATE: Once you're done, submit your entries to this Favourites gallery here https://thewrittenrevolution.deviantart.com/favourites/53144079 , or note us with a link to your submission and we'll do it for you! What you have to do is go to the folder we linked just now, click on "suggest a Favourite", then select the deviation from your gallery. Remember to include your dice numbers in your Artist's Comments!
Wooho, I know, right?
We already said in the blog linked above what this contest is about, but we'll do a quick revision for those of you who didn't do their homework. You know who you are. :paranoid:
The basic idea
This contest will have you write either prose or poetry following the guidelines that Lady Randomness
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Journal
500 points give away, winners announced
Scroll down for the winners <3
Booboo, my guinea pig, gives away 5x100 points to 5 lucky deviants. She wants to thank you for your support! :hug:

What you have to do is:
:bulletpink: Fave this journal so I know that you are in!
Good luck! I will pick the 5  winners (100 :points: each) with random.org
Deadline: 7th January '13
 

Lots of love from B00B00!
New points give away: < you may join both :hug:
I'm sorry that I can't reply to every comment, but I do read them all :heart:
Winners congrats!
1. WildHeartLovesAll
2. Chicky25
3. the-dragoness-DM
4. Bumble2011
5. AnimeNewbie6
:heart:
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Girl by Junica-Hots Girl :iconjunica-hots:Junica-Hots 808 60
Journal
RESULTS ACG - Tales of Time - CONTEST RESULTS
It has been one tough ride deciding the winner out of all the wonderful, imaginative, creative, story telling wonderful wonderful pieces.  You can see all the entries here >> http://anothercontestgroup.deviantart.com/gallery/41448679
:iconAnotherContestGroup:AnotherContestGroup
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Monsters by naked-in-the-rain Monsters :iconnaked-in-the-rain:naked-in-the-rain 4,411 244
Journal
311 points giveaway. The winner!
Hello, sweeties!
It's cold here, so I didn't go out today and I'm sitting in my room browsing dA...
Peekabo!

:giggle:
I decided to make someone smile by giving one lucky deviant 311 points!
(+ I just realized I've reached 400 000 pageviews :la:)
*prize updated to +200 points which were kindly donated by weremole
_
All you have to do in order to participate is:
:+fav: fave this journal...
...and...
 well, that's all :giggle:
_
You don't have to visit my gallery nor watch me, but if you do, thank you :heart:
_
deadline: 7th January,2013.
*extended
I will pick the lucky winner with a little help from random.org
_
THE WINNER
Thank you everyone who participated (:
This time the winner is
:iconaudeemma:
Congrats and enjoy your points!
__
Have fun, stay warm and good luck :shamrock:
I hope you like my newest one:
Nebula

_
+ my latest:

:iconnaked-in-the-rain:naked-in-the-rain
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Virtual Squirrel by snut Virtual Squirrel :iconsnut:snut 3,880 356
Journal
Updates + A New Rule [ALL MEMBERS PLEASE READ]
Waxing poetic
On a man who'll never know.
How pedestrian.
He's interesting,
Not quite so ordinary
As the dull others.
Tender and loyal,
Brave, strong, and gentle;
Above all, patient.
Unfazed by my quirks,
Steady under all pressures-
The heart to my brain.
Hair short, soft,
Blonde, though graying with age.
Trusting deep blue eyes.
Finely built form,
Corded muscle, taut tendons;
So damaged, yet whole.
A small ladies' man,
Far too stubbornly straight
For his (my) own good.
You should know I am
Still married to my work.
... I want a divorce.

Spam6467
Updates
Sorry for the very slow updates over here, it's been a busy month. As we're still waiting for the the final September featured votes from our Co-Founders (please hurry!) we won't be able to post the feature for a short while yet. However, we have some exciting news! Your Co-Founder, Ja-mes, has decided to run a mystery chat event! Excited? We are too!
It's happening on Wednesday, October 24th, 2012, at
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Journal
Preparing for NaNoWriMo Part 2
In my last journal, we discussed the best ways to prepare for NaNo and included a couple tips on how to make that writing go a little faster and smoother.  Well, now it's time to discuss how to NOT fail at NaNoWriMo.  Because just as there are some really grand ideas on how to prepare yourself and keep yourself on task during the month, there are also going to be those times of self doubt and using excuses to not write.  For NaNo, any of those excuses are completely unacceptable [well, except for life threatening excuses - those are allowed].
So once again, I reached out to the Lit Community to find out exactly why other deviants failed at NaNo, or what they found to NOT work for them and compiled it all together in a pretty little list like last time.
What Not to Do
:bulletpurple: Don't get sucked in Wikipedia, TVtropes or any other sites like that.  In fact turn off your WiFi so the internet isn't a distraction.  All your research
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Journal
Preparing for NaNoWriMo Part 1
We may only be one week into October, but November and NaNoWriMo is just around the corner.  If you've never heard of it, NaNoWriMo is short  for National Novel Writing Month. That means in the span of thirty days, participants will write 50,000 words.
That's:
:bulletblack: 1,667 words per day if they're writing every day.
:bulletblack: 2,273 words per day if they're only writing on weekdays.  
:bulletblack: 6,250 words per day if they're only writing on weekends.
Either way it's a pretty hefty feat, and not something to walk into unprepared.  Even if you're a "by the seat of your pants" type of writer.
So this year, instead of doing a basic what is NaNo and who's going to participate in it journal, we're gonna switch it up and give you some pointers on what you should be doing and what you definitely shouldn't be doing before and during NaNo.
The best place to get advice is from the people that have tried NaNo.  Notice how I didn't say "and succeeded?"  T
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01:30
USB-tan :iconmikeinel:Mikeinel 18,766 2,136
Literature
Thirty-Three Tiles
Thirty-three tiles.  There were thirty-three tiles in the bathroom, but she had to make sure, she had counted four times already and kept getting thirty-three.  But she was sure she was wrong.  She dropped to her knees, crouched down, and started once again by the right corner near the door.   It would not make sense that there were thirty-three tiles.  When she had the bathroom refloored three years ago, she had asked for a specific number, she could not remember what it was now, but she knew it was not thirty-three.   
The window was open a crack and she could feel a bite in the air.  
Stopping, she closed her eyes, and in her head she tried to replay everything that had happened.  She tried to see everything that had gone wrong.
She should have known that the contractor would not install the correct number of tiles, that he would mess up on the measurements...that he would make a copy of the key to
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Tangled poster by Usagi-Tsukino-krv Tangled poster :iconusagi-tsukino-krv:Usagi-Tsukino-krv 13,302 1,552
Journal
Winners Package Results! (Sept. 14, 2012)
14th of September, 2012 By Missvirginia
If this is your first time seeing the Winners Package and are curious about it, information is found in question and answer 6 in our FAQ . :nod:
Below the feature are the results of these contests!
:iconmystic-mysidia::iconangelicterra::iconall-types-art::iconcrimsonpelt::iconsugarbearkitty::icontsurechr::iconart-in-the-blood::iconyour-ocs-contest::iconalligatorlizardslove::iconda-dot-art::iconartbymallorymorsa::iconforest-world::iconfanartintegrityclub::iconchimeradragonfang::iconnight-ferocity::iconthe-evil-smile:
Winners Package Results!
Congratulations to the winners of Mystic-Mysidia's Contest! See full results here:http://fav.me/d592wt2
:trophy: 1st place :iconrubbishthieves: with
:trophy: 2nd place :iconmidorimaou: with
Congratulations to the winners of AngelicTerra's Contest! See full results here: http://fav.me/d5ddbkz
:trophy: 1st place :icongiuliaraine
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Critiques


I'm lucky to have the privilege of belonging to a community in which works like this can be found. Reading this was a real immersion in...

Activity


Hi. So... it actually happened.
As your aching legs continue the relentless pull up this steep mountain path, the stairs once carved here worn away by generations of feet, ice and bitter wind, your eyes gently move up as the gradient begins to level out. In the early evening sky, the dying amber light of the sun is slowly, but surely, being overtaken by the blues and blacks of the night above you. One or two stars are already visible. You catch something in the middle distance as you continue - although the snow stopped some minutes ago, the wind is still billowing around fiercely, and with your hood and facial cover on, it’s difficult to identify how large the building ahead of you is until you’ve practically reached it. As if the Gods are satisfied with your endurance, the wind lessens in intensity as you approach. With a sudden rush of vertigo, you realise that this temple stands at the edge of a vast precipice at the edge of this mountaintop, overlooking the vast continent of Ufai below.

The temple itself is, as you had expected, ancient. Huge lumps of rock form dense, black bricks that comprise the walls of what appears to be a large, two story building, with two wings on its left and right hand side. From its centre, a spire rises higher than even the mountain's summit, flanked by a stained glass window that rises with it. You struggle to see what it may be depicting until you remember your scarf is still over your face. You pull it off. Four sections form interweaving strands of red, green, blue, and white, climbing the window until forming a large yellow orb near the top. To your right hand side, a small wintry field is fenced off, where a small herd of yak huddle together for warmth. You notice a handful of mountain goats huddled between the bigger loafers for warmth. A huge, stone door, taking up a large section of the wall, stands before you. There is a knocker on either side of this double door - round, circular handles that you imagine can be used to rap against the stone.

You grab one of the stone rings and knock on the door. Surprisingly loud echoes make you start. They fly around the walls, drawing your attention to the finely carved, but apparently ancient, statues regularly situated in alcoves between the small, opaque windows of this building. Are they heroes? Or forgotten leaders of decrepit civilisations now relegated to some history book long since left to gather dust?

You readjust yourself and face towards the door.

Nothing happens.

You knock again.

Several seconds pass, during which a cold wind picks up again, cutting through your thick winter cloak as if it were nothing. You shiver, glancing around.

Just as you begin wondering what your options are, a wheezed, old voice sounds from within: ‘Just a minute! Mm’on the privvy!’ The sound of an overtly loud water closet flushing reverberates around... somehow.

The door swings open unnaturally swiftly, drawn open by an unseen source, to reveal a large chamber. Overlooking this chamber on the left and right hand sides are two large landings made from wood, with carved balcony rails and banisters, which lead into the rooms on the second story of this building. You imagine those rooms are quarters for those who live here.

Immediately in front of you, however, is a large chamber. There’s a raised section at the far end, on which stands a table, behind which are four tall chairs. In the centre of each of the four walls in this chamber, one standing in front of the raised dais in front of you, are four large, hemispherical alcoves cut into each wall, framing a gemstone. You look carefully, noting that each stone appears to be floating within its space. There is a Ruby set in a red frame to your left, an emerald set in a green frame to your right, a sapphire set in a blue frame to the left of the door behind you, and one more, the centrepiece of the dais, that appears to be white, standing boldly and bright. You double take. The front alcove appears to be empty.

A door on the right hand side of the raised floor clatters open, and an old Dragonborn stumbles in, murmuring to himself as the sound of scraping scales quietly echoes around. His scales are fading in intensity - a fiery golden glow has faded to a cloudier golden sheen. He wears a very shabby looking leather armour jerkin. Pieces appear to have been rubbed off by the Dragonborn's hard, rough skin. As you look more carefully, it appears to be emitting a very faint glow, similar to his scales. He holds a quarterstaff that he uses as a curious mix of expressive baton and crutch as he half skips, half drags himself across the dais in front of you, acknowledging your presence with eccentric rumbles and wheezes.

He stops at the table. He breathes deeply, crouching over, as if winded. He then leans back slowly. A loud cracking sound echoes around the chamber as he moves his spine around.

‘Ahh… that’s a little more spritely! The ol' daily evacuation sets me up a storm! Now…’ He moves to one of the chairs and sits down. You watch as he ruffles in a large knapsack at his side, procures a large horn, and raises it to the side of his reptilian head, cocking it towards you.

‘You look chilly, eh? Heh, heh, heh... The name's Zendron Coldsteel. What can I do you for?’
The Summit of the Trine Mountains
I'm back.

I know it's been a while.

There's a lot to tell you about, but unfortunately I don't have much time to spare. Not anymore.

All I will tell you is this: the worlds we build are ones that can - and should - be explored.

May your blessings be many and your sorrows few.

Ja-mes









P.S:

Prepare, Delve and Discover.
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The other day I showed a new friend this old page of mine. It's been a loooong time, but it's refreshing to go over some of my old work with different eyes. Older eyes. The eyes of a man who isn't the same as when he first wrote these little things.

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Ja-mes

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United Kingdom
I write as a hobby, and I must say I really enjoy it. I've been around Deviant Art for a while now, and have loved it since day one! I'm looking for (constructive!) criticism on a few pieces of my work. So no pictures (sorry...!), but an opportunity to exercise your imagination.
Hopefully we'll see some improvements over time.

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An Interview With Ja-mes!
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Hold the phone.

I've been to Romania this week, and got back yesterday. After returning to my place in old Brighton town, I logged on to find that Goggles in Mireview had been gifted a Daily Deviation by neurotype! My profile was awash with views, favourites, and so on.

July Literature DD Round Up:iconirrevocablefate:
Features by HugQueen 
          Solace by Medoriko Bo. by Silver-cLaw :thumb468477586:
:icongrimface242:
Features by inknalcohol
Mr. Five by TheVoiceofMadness We Hold Hearts by ttbloodlusttt Te by ZetsubouDahlia What I gave you by WhitePlumFragrance Heart Sold. by Lady-Yume :thumb407777094: FACTORY DEMON FORKLIFT BATTLE by Egon-Riker :thumb451180477: .Red lips. by BlackRoseMew The Heart Necklace by Stanglass Cyclical love by comatose-comet Paradigm Shift by Jade-Pandora [transmissions of a dead girl] by crimsonletters Southern modernization by Emmaessence may as well buy another pack by creativelycliche The Coffee God by anapests-and-ink Bad Shot by CrumbledWings
:iconneurotype:
Features by neurotype
Senryu Series 12 by Laurence55 The Interview by levi3o4 :thumb459736038: Visitor by sliverofciel KATRINA by KaitForest Margie by capricecake daughters by sunshinegypsy Palani by Augmented4th Parental Guidance by Rangavar :thumb4436160


This is so unexpected and sudden. I am stunned. I feel encouraged. And humbled. And happy. And grateful!

I haven't enjoyed this feeling for a long time...

If you haven't seen it yet, here is the piece in question:

Mature Content



It would be unjust not to vocalise my gratitude. A massive shout to those of you who have looked at Goggles in Mireview, read it, and commented/faved/enjoyed it.

OI!

That was my shout.

Also, I was invited to contribute Goggles in Mireview to CRLiterature's gallery. Thanks, guys! I am happy to. If you have the time, go check them out. I've joined.

Finally: I will try my best to thank everyone who comments and favs my work. I will also take a look at your profile if you start watching mine. I don't promise much, but I promise you that. It's the least I can do.

Keep scribbling!

:iconja-mes:

Comments


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:iconjessabel:
Jessabel Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2015  Professional General Artist
Thanks for watching me and buying my prints, I do remember and hope to see you at another convention soon!!
Reply
:iconja-mes:
Ja-mes Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
:thumbsup:
Reply
:iconbattlefairies:
BATTLEFAIRIES Featured By Owner Mar 17, 2015
Oh and thanks for Watching!
Reply
:iconja-mes:
Ja-mes Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
No problem. You share my humour. :D
Reply
:iconbattlefairies:
BATTLEFAIRIES Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2015
Why hurray! Bottoms up, friend :icontoastplz:
Reply
:iconja-mes:
Ja-mes Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Strap that to a cat. Perpetual energy.
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconbattlefairies:
BATTLEFAIRIES Featured By Owner Mar 17, 2015
Thank you for Favouriting my work! This means you can now ask the Djinn ONE question --> 'Ask The Djinn' stamp by BATTLEFAIRIES <-- clicky clicky
The Djinn will answer truthfully and to the best of her considerate abilities.
Have fun (and come back often)!
Reply
:iconroguemudblood:
RogueMudblood Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2015   Writer
Thanks so much for the :+devwatch:! :love:
Reply
:iconja-mes:
Ja-mes Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
No worries. You're a great writer! :D
Reply
:iconroguemudblood:
RogueMudblood Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2015   Writer
:blushes: Thanks for the compliment - it's truly appreciated. :)
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