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Hello!

:bulletred: Featuring those who submitted to the previous writing prompt from Live-Love-Write, here are the participants, listed order of submission, along with information on the newest prompt. Please remember to fave this journal to help support your work and the prompt!

:bulletblack: To submit to the prompt, please remember to put "for the Live-Love-Write writing prompt" in your artist's comments and submit to the Writing Prompt gallery for your feature every week. Entries without this info will be denied. To submit to a past prompt, send us a note with a link to the entry and the prompt information.

:bulletblue: All literature and comics in response to the prompt are welcome and encouraged.



Previous Writing Prompt

Write anything that features one or more of the following:

- a complicated happiness
- make up
- Alaska
- a historical knife



Admin's Choice:

My GrandadIt had been a week since Grandad had died. Myself, John and our Dad were going through his old things. Mum was downstairs trying to unstick the cutlery draw with a crowbar that we had found in his old shed and was about an inch close to using the chainsaw we had seen next to it.
Mum had always said Grandad lived in a pigsty, she’d make snide comments about the house every time we visited; Dad said that he was a hoarder thanks to the rather large number of boxes piled in the back bedrooms, so much so the bed had dust on it from 1994. Myself and John however, thought it was cool. John used to say that it was a jungle due to the large rolls of fly paper extending from the ceiling to head height, not to mention the crocodile that lived in the toilet. Well, almost. The noise it made was certainly reptilian.
Myself, however, I just saw it as an elderly man’s castle. Apart from the toilet, I didn’t mind the odd box or the fly paper or the mess. It was his home.
I am not much
in the restricted section.Midnight is the quiet hour, the witching hour,
the hour of sweet dreams and wretched nightmares—
it brings forth the dance we simply cannot get rid of,
our steps echoing in the caverns of the hallows of the
Library, and together we let our feet guide us from
section to section.
Mystery was one we danced in most often, its masked
murderers and thrill seekers a complement to
your secrets and my hidden rooms—we pretended to not
see the clues left for the other to find, to not see
the numbers that glowed from the open pages of left
behind physics books.
We never did make it to the Romance section and
I always wondered what dance we would have had there -
if we would waltz through the European history books,
tango down the South American literature, foxtrot to the tune
of the early 1900's in the sparse music section; and while
you strayed to the rigidity of Non-Fiction, I let myself 
wander past Fantasy and into Mythology.
I was always drowning when I ventured too far in,
m




Poetry

:thumb698459209: Stuck conflictions I’m stuck.
I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know where to go.
                    But I want it.
I don’t want things to change.
I think I’m happy.
But it’s complicated.
                    But I want to run away.
I’m stuck.
Shaded BeautyLife is quite hard, and has taken its toll.
I cover the marks, and let no one know.
Broken and scarred, both my body and soul.
Make-up goes far, but it’s only for show.
Look like a star, or at least meet the goal,
and shade the dark, fading beauty below.
Skin and PlasticThe ocean salt-licked calluses from my feet,
sand clawed into my knee and
the waves
swallowed my sunglasses (I paid
for all the times I wrote about it as though I’d been there
with skin and plastic).
It was easy letting it throw me, I already know
how to go limp, how to
accept the battering, how to
float to the top playing dead (It shook me
like a snow globe and for a moment under the night sky
things were real again).
I first saw the Atlantic
under the cover of night, and last saw it
running and stumbling towards it,
fists and teeth and all my bruises bared and gleaming
under the pinhole stars (once it was as dark on land as it is
across the water).
Someone thrust a jacket into my hands
for modesty
and I laughed.
On the drive home I pressed my ear to the window.
(I expected to leave the ocean,
I didn’t know I would have to leave the sky).




Prose

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This month's writing prompt, from now until February 28th:

Respond to the following theme:

Voice




It's been a long time, but you remember how it goes. Thank you all for your absolutely lovely work. I enjoyed reading every piece, and I hope to see more!

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask below.
Hello!

:bulletred: Featuring those who submitted to the previous writing prompt from Live-Love-Write, here are the participants, listed order of submission, along with information on the newest prompt. Please remember to fave this journal to help support your work and the prompt!

:bulletblack: To submit to the prompt, please remember to put "for the Live-Love-Write writing prompt" in your artist's comments and submit to the Writing Prompt gallery for your feature every week. Entries without this info will be denied. To submit to a past prompt, send us a note with a link to the entry and the prompt information.

:bulletblue: All literature and comics in response to the prompt are welcome and encouraged.



Previous Writing Prompt

Respond to the following theme:

The only thing that's worse than one is none



Admin's Choice:

Pulling Weeds“Good morning, Brother Chris. Your tomatoes are spectacular.”
“Praise be to God.”
“Would you like some help weeding?”
“Thank you, Brother Jacob, I would love some. My knees are killing me.”
“Are they? You always look so content here, working in your garden.”
“I am, in mind and spirit, but the body does have a tendency to complain.”
“The soil is moist with yesterday’s rain. What a pleasure to dig in! Why, look at this worm, as fat as my finger.”
“Let me see. Oh, yes, I call him Percy, one of my favorite little workers.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve named the earthworms!”
“One must occupy one’s mind, Brother Jacob! Though I tend to call most of them Percy, for some reason.”
“Ha ha!”
“...”
“Brother Chris?”
“Yes?”
“...oh nevermind.”
“Speak, Brother Jacob, or I will be forced to have a conve
weltschmerz.I am easily confused and often incorrect,
my routines are something amiss in that I
cannot stick to them, and I'm still not
too sure how to walk without my shoulders
pulled back, my stride filled with the harsh
taps of my heels, my eyes daring men to come
and test a hand, a turn, a try at me and see
if they can return with no limp or bruise.
(The days roll past with no markings in its
wake—all that it gives is a way to see, a way
to feel, a morning and an afternoon, a dawn and
a dusk, a sunrise and a sunset - but what makes
today a different today; which many yesterdays
is speaking; how is tomorrow a tomorrow
when nothing changes?)
Memories tell me of what has been and, perhaps,
what can be, which is why faces flash by
the random men with their loud voices and
louder egos, baiting me with street corners and
club entrances; they do not know the art of
the prey, but they only see predator here, my body
just another rolling day, and their taunts grate upon
something wild and they al




Poetry

Understanding HeartbreakDear heart, I beseech thee
to relinquish thy hold.
Thy lady hath left me,
and my torment is cold.
I tried to drink the tears,
shed for her vagrant heart,
but drowned in my own fears:
Did my soul, then depart?
Should they dig up the dirt,
and throw me in the ground?
Would I still feel the hurt,
with no one else around?
To answer my despair
with death, would be perverse.
To have no one else there
may still, hurt so much worse.
Heart broken, soul attached.

Tears rolled over a smile.
My sadness not dispatched,
but covered for a while.
Sadness dealt with later.
Now I’ll relish in my past.
I thought pain was greater,
than the love we amassed.
The love I knew was true,
so perhaps I was wrong.
I’m glad to have loved you.
From us came a pure song.
What’s better than to know,
someone worth singing for?
When may such harsh of blow
once again scar my core?
To be loved is better,
and the song is sweeter.
Be giver and getter,
and avoid the fleeter.
Purer songs, lesser pai
One Small SparkWhen you start off small
One try is better than none
The idea can grow
With patience and persistence
A difference can be made
AloneBreathe
You're ok
NO.
Someone's there.
Not anymore. 
Someone's missing.
For just a long time.
People to protect you. 
People to go to. 
There used to be just one.
Wasn't that ok?
Someone you could go to,
Someone you could trust with anything.
Someone you could call when the attacks were too much.
The voice of someone who cared,
Was just enough to calm you enough,
To be in control.
But now?
There is no one I can trust.
I am alone.
The only thing worse than having one,
Is having none.




Prose

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New Entry to Old Prompt

animal teethi. I found her in the hyper-real
pop art dream, scooping my heart
from the reeds, ditch weeds, she held it
in her hands to dine upon;
she was an animal.
I stopped her.
That heart is poisoned by cyanide
and all the horrible things that passed between
the beast’s teeth. The first thing she learned from me
is that the heart holds
terrible things the same way she held
the muscle
between her fingers.
ii. The barn was painfully red, set back
beneath the painter’s streaks of sunset
on rolling beds of tall grass and wild flowers
and it was beautiful and mine but
she could not stay there.
I promised to take her home.
Every grain of dirt and broken stone
on the earthen road was acute, individual, but they blended
together
the closer we got to her woods
and by the time that turned jungle
I could barely tell trees apart
let alone tease the water
from the mud.
iii. She grew afraid of flesh and cast out the heart
and we spent the days collecting sweet greens,
pale tubers, fruits fermenti




This month's writing prompt, from now until August 31st:

Write anything that features one or more of the following:

- a complicated happiness
- make up
- Alaska
- a historical knife




Superb entries, everyone! I really enjoyed reading them, and I particularly appreciated your creative interpretations.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask below.
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Geoproteanthrope, Ecology of the life bringerEcology of the Life Bringer, Great Seeding of Many Terrestrial and Oceanic Worlds The fission pods are many fathoms deep under the gulf. Ecologically adept, each pod has thecapacity of spawning a plethora of highly advanced flora and fauna. Poised for delivering a copious assortment of rapidly integrative mimicries, all the while offering to advance and enrich a host of natural selection along with an interdependence among similar species akin to its nature. With a vast microcosm of explicitly correlative symbioses, these microecologies, are introductive of many species capable of metamorphic convergence between the matrixes of animal, vegetable, and even the dramatic transmutation of minerals utilizing highly adaptive synergistic microbes to transmute the prevalent soil compositions. Microbialization of the soil begins with the rapid reproduction and dispersion of organisms ideally purposed for the rapid deconstruction of a specific range of material, establishing a foundation, then dramatically mutating into cellular diversities, in preparation of enzymatic and chemical breakdown, while introducing an elemental, mineral, and nutrient diversity formerly unavailable. Furthermore, once a microhabitat is introduced, and becomes established, these life-forms will continuously evolve throughout the adaptive establishment, and rebirthing cycles. It is here at great depths, in the cold and oily murk, where they span the majority of the gestation period of an approximately 11-year solar propagation cycle. This lengthy spawning cycle is necessary to develop these specially advanced offspring, selectively engineered for the potentially rich and complex interdevelopmental blueprinting as greatly adaptive biodiversification, spawning many forms capable of advancing within and throughout an extensive myriad of astrobiological and terrestrial biomes. Purposely protecting them at great lengths from the depleting solar energy, serves to facilitate a unique characteristic within the gravitational and magnetic independence, sensitizing pods to solar, lunar, and terrestrial orbital, gravitational, geomagnetic, and tidal energies. Until charged with abysmal dark matter, these pods' enhanced structural densities have become navigationally honed to attract the farthest-reaching and most fecund itinerary thus derivate of the cosmos. The radiographic insignia of an abundance of life-forms, captivates of these informed systems, where surges of radon energy may emit as a pulse acting as a telemeter, gradually informing instincts most active, as informed Instinct, determining a course of seeding and migratory imprinting ideal for the offspring in developmentally transmutative phase determination and removed from the inhibitions of radiological interference due to solar disruption. Whilst all microbial particle affiliates rest in gestation, learning a heightened capacity for longevities and sustaining remarkable feats of regeneration from oxidation, and solar deterioration, they prepare to travel inland, eventually to rise at the swampy bog. Surfacing to solarize, and spawn via micro-sporing, whilst creating a dry energy field to repel the forces of internal humidity.Next, the heliotropic pods rotate several times throughout the circadian rhythmostasis, drawn toward the azimuth of the solar and lunar convexion. Then, after a complete lunar cycle, the collective pods, in a vast watery dispersion, while the parental units; zooidal medusoid hydra, as they become statically charged, begin expelling all fluids from the internal structure of their suspensoid bodies.Asteroidal in mass, these pods are possessed of an independence from normal gravity. As such, they are capable of interstellar travel. This happens when the lunar orbit pulls them into outer space. Then, they will exist in planetary orbit until bearing a new heading toward afertile and life inhabited planetary ocean, within the same galaxy, or as they have progressed, the flight path is clear to extend anywhere beyond their known existence, folding space/time as if by echolocation by the idyllic destinations pulling these sound objects (pods) toward their new homes. Multiple polyps within each pod endure such intense pressure ranges from within as their potential offspring (gametes) enigmatically forge, and are consciously arranging perceptual telemetries of awareness and influence. These biostructural relationships between the living polyps and the skeletal asteroidal masses are capable of great flexibilities of their relative dimensions of projective perspectives that transmute space and time, penetrating greater distances than ever before to fix onto a body of superior cosmic awareness within the desired destination. This Supreme Being, when lured by the perceiving probe, will move swimmingly so as to position themselves beneath each indaptive orb. Each will be drawn to its location. These orbs represent indaptive data from beyond, imprinted of positive systems. And the Supreme Being who responds to such prescience is being read by the dimensional probing. This reading is crucial to develop the empathic form that opens in deep space in the pathway of a wormhole. Now, a clear path has been chosen.Drawn inward from the life emanations of external origin, cosmic radiation transfers neutrinos synaptically. Living matter transfers freely through the ethereal plane materializing in a sort of ectoplasm. This ectoplasm subsists as a dense fog and accumulates around the indaptive orbs, which hover above the Quasindaptimuths. The ectoplasmic storm thickens and intensifies until achieving a pressurized well around each of the seven indaptive orbs.Reaching a pressure that is greater than water, the surface of the water beneath each swell becomes displaced by the greater pressure expanse. At the exact moment that the surface tension yields, the envelopments surge with circumvolutions of galactic light waves. The enveloped orbs are now ignited and primed to begin immersion. These are now calledPosimorphs. Now it is time for the Quasindaptimuths and the Posimorphs to converge as one. The immersion of the Posimorphs and the suspended Quasindaptimuths, must make aconnection at halfway between the water’s surface and the seafloor (approximately 7000 ft.). The baroclinicity between the partially hollow Quasindaptimuth and the super dense posimorphic fluids immediately create an exchange, filling completely the frontal lobe of theQuasindaptimuths and simultaneously expelling internal gasses through their anterior nodes. The Quasindaptimuths are soon completely fluidized. The next transformation comes to bear as the indaptive nebulae at the centers of the Posimorphs make contact with the statically charged Quasindaptimuths. The two must now undergo their “Vorpal Communion”. The indaptive orbs upon contact begin to enter and nucleate the Quasindaptimuths, pulsating throughout the pod’s asteroidal mass, until at last they have become as one. Now it is born as The Geoproteanthrope.
Monteria: Chapter: ImyrveWords were spoken and fire appeared at the tip of a girl's finger. A candle was lit. Its flame flickered rapidly making the shadows inside the room dance in successive wavy movements. Imyrve bore it carefully. Setting fire to a torch nailed to the wall, she felt a gentle rush of warmth wreathing on the skin of her face.Outside an owl hooted. Its voice echoed repeating itself as it sped traveling towards distant places. It was still night out there. Imyrve wanted to have a look at the bird. From the window, she could see but a pitch black world.Out of a leather bag set on the bed she drew multiple items. She upturned a small phial on her pinky. With the sweet smelling substance which was in it, she made half circles behind her ears, tipped under her arms, then traced a line on her belly. On her right hand she put a silver bracelet inlaid with cream colored stones. She let fall a pale priestess's robe on her body. She donned her boots and slid a dagger inside the left one.At daybreak Imyrve left her chamber. As she was going down, a faint light coming from the hall slightly enlightened the stares. The others are awake. She thought.The door from which she entered was at the end of the long room. Beside it, a young fire was cracking in the fireplace. At the other end, was the gate that led outside. On the right, there was a lengthy brick counter. An open view on the kitchen was behind it. The rest of the space was filled with chairs and tables.Her former master Gard was sitting on a bench. His neck turner and his eyes staring vaguely out of the window. He was clutching a cup of mulled wine. Dolly, the young fellow with the soul trapped inside a horse's body was drinking water from a bucket on the floor. He raised his head and looked in Imyrve's eyes to welcome her. She stroked the hair on his back and went to sit with Gard.Seeing that the innkeeper's wife was also present there, she called,"milk and bread and butter, please".Smiling friendly , Gard said,"Good. Eat well. A long day awaits us"."Do not worry Gargar. My appetite is unquenchable even in death".The man in front of her was twenty nine years of age, yet this unending journey made him look well aged. He had dark circles under his eyes and dry cracked lips. His back was now hunched more than ever. All his features showed signs of weariness. Imyrve sensed that now that they were at the last stage of their quest, his anxiety and tension increased further. She was surely afraid of what was waiting them at the end of the road. Be that as it may she was eager and energetic. Her mind was still well balanced.If her judgment was correct Dolly seemed alright. He eats and drinks normally. Even so, she could not always comprehend him. At times he becomes cheery, jumps and runs in every direction and fills the world with his loud neighs. In other days he hardly nods when spoken to, she can not tell if there was a living human soul in that horse.Their journey began when they left the harbor called Boats-Feast in the south western shores of eldariand. Arriving to the east of Marcolon, they crossed the country for it was safer to travel that way, but slower withal. The people that sent them on the quest knew the risks of a voyage by sea. Taking a boat from the Black-Rock, they landed in a small town called the Borders. Now they were in the king's grave inn and soon will be leaving for the Bright Mountains.Imyrve guessed that after nearly a year of travel, it was not unusual that her mates were at a bad state. She felt sorry for Gard though. When she was eight years of age he took her as his first apprentice. At that same time he was as old as she was now. For ten years he had been her master, the only fatherly figure she ever known. She had the sense of being protected and safe around him more than when she had been living with her mother as a child. He was kindly and caring towards her, yet she was not fond of the way he treated people, his gloomy side. He frequently showed aggressivity and mistrust when dealing with other mages and common folk."Another sleepless night ?". Asked Imyrve."I got few hours before my mind was awake again." Gard miserably spoke. "fright and doubt won't leave me be.""You worry too much." She took his hand in hers."our plans were made by the high Masters. Hardly will something go wrong."He ended the talk with a squeeze of her fingers and a gentle,"yes". He drew his hand.It was still dark when they set out. The fresh breeze of the morning made Gard shiver. The sky was purple, sprinkled with blurry pale golden stars. Far in front of them, Imyrve beheld green coated hills and valleys. The road twisted and warped following the reliefs of the highlands. Farther, all sight is blocked by the wall of the Bright Mountains. The so called fiery peaks were grey now. The sun will soon be up and it will become hard to stare long at the summit. She thought.She turned her head to have the last look at the inn. She grew fond of the place in three days only. It was small, clean, and not quite frequented, unlike the crowded filthy places they stayed in during their travel across Marcolon. There was a door in its hall that led to a garden. A great lord's grave was built in the middle. Imyrve savoured all the hours she spent there, listening to the stories of jenny, the innkeeper's wife. Apparently some old king died and was buried in that same spot. The wife told her that the grand sire of her husband's grand sire put up the inn and the garden as a memorial for the lost man.In Monteria, graves were called round beds. This king's bed was grey stone and of circular shape. It was surrounded by a ring of water, all covered with rose petals. There was a miniature statue of a crowned man slaying a bear on it.Even though she already read all about the land when preparing for the trip, Imyrve was well amused by Jenny's tales. The old woman recounted the history of her region in a folkish enjoyable way, mixing the names of this lord and that king, adding made up events here and there.Desiring to know what the Montarian folktales tell about the bright mountains, Imyrve had asked her to give her some accounts on the past of the heights which this country was most known for."Ages ago, the earliest men set out to roam and populate the lands. They found the mountains, a colossal chain of boulders, cliffs and turf. Many massive bright fire stones that held the sun's radiance were scattered on top. The view frightened them. They felt so little before something so big, and the wisest and oldest saw the presence of the gods in these peaks which seemed ablaze from afar. And so Monteria they called the realm they set up later. Mountains of flames in the common speech".Jenny had said.Imyrve knew of course that there was no earliest men. In fact, the same people who traveled from Eldariand to Marcolon around five thousand years ago, came to populate Monteria after. Before that the continent waw overrun with white lions."Through the centuries, few unique people had learnt to master these fire gems to do exceptional things, to produce light and heat, to make hamers shatter the hardest rocks, and all kinds of spells.""Then came kolven the second or Boloven was it, I will ask my husband which was it later. Well, a sage king that gave his court the bidding of making mines under the mountains to extract the material. One of his descendants, maybe this one was Boloven, assembled the finest of these spell makers. That is how the notorious enchanters guild was born. The fiery halls were built and the enchanters thrived on making arms for the royal soldiers. The realm grew in power during that time. And until this day folk say that that line of kings was the greatest dynasty Monteria has seen since the dawn of time.""It was a dreadful night, when the white lions stormed the Mountains to take back what was theirs. Not a mere pack but thousands of them. It was said that their leader was capable of turning into a man. All the guild's heritage of knowledge and artefacts was lost, trapped for hundreds of years inside what has become lion territory."Imyrve had thought that for a common innkeeper's wife living far away from the city, Jenny knew a lot about the history of the land. She also wondered if all the montarians were as same as the old woman.It was nearly noon when their path began to slightly slant upwards. The hill that they were ascending was mantled by a vast field of blood red lavender. Perfectly lined rows of scarlet buchs surrounded them. There was fences separating the road and the plantation. Vertical wooden swords held together by two horizontal poles. Every six feet or so, stood spruce carved ferrets carrying the highest pole in their mouths. Climbing vines with a sharp biting smell accompanied with notes of sweetness, was coiled around the sculpted wood. A buzzing sound filled the landscape. "The kingdom of bees", whispered Gard.A short while after, they reached the top of the hill. Imyrve swept her eyes about the area. Spotting a crouched peasant within the field, she said , "let me do the talking.""Won't utter a word." Answered Gard.Before long they heard, "oi you! This is me lord Dardwick's property and you would better get ...", then he paused taking a long look at them,"oh, me apologies priests, me withered eyes did not recognize the robes.""No harm is done, sir." She reassured."I am no sir," he chuckled, "only a servant""Are we not all servants?" She replied wisely, just as what a real priestess would do. "What is your name, blessed man?""Anvelbe, me lady.""I'm no lady either, Anvelbe.""What is yours then.""Ive.""Might i ask about you business in these lonely parts.""We make godly work, restoring wise circles all around Aysgrath." She said.Getting down from her horse and stepping towards him, she examined him closely. The man seemed old and bended. He stood leaning a spade. His hair was white. The tunic and trousers he wore, were extremely worn. His boots were in a better shape."We were told about one. Set beyond this hill.""All this land is called the kingdom of bees. Past this field you will find a yeffer forest. This same path will lead you inside it. A tower stands amid the trees. The circle is found beside it.""Thank you Anvelbe. We will pray on your health.""Farewell."Ahead of the hill, stretched a grassy valley. At its farthest parts sprawled the golden forest they were heading to.They made it to the edge of the woods after an hour of march. The road split into a two tined fork. One path went on forward in the direction of the mountains. The other ran its course through the forest.Imyrve felt grateful that the old man did not address Gard. Even at his age, her former master had not learned how to properly communicate with others. His life has not been quite an easy one. He had told her all about it. His father had been a powerful and proud merchant. He had been the main trader that Eseryl the third and his court had dealt with. For nearly eleven years he had supplied all the king's feasts with the most expensive wines and meats. Eseryl's wife and her friends had dressed in his fine silks and jewelry. His mother had been popular and well acclaimed and a very close companion to the queen and her daughters. Her advice and views had been greatly praised.Despite the fact that they had been low born and without being members of the king's council, Gard's parents had had control and power over it. When he had been born the midwife deemed him as frail and week, and had said that he would not survive for long. To her eyes, he had seemed too tiny to be a healthy ordinary child. Yet he lived.As a young boy Gard had been sickly and often had needed the presence of a healer at their household. Some years after, it had appeared that the boy had had no interest in kids' games and no skill at sword play or riding. Yet he showed a pronounced eagerness for books and history. And so his mother made sure he got the finest teaching there was“All of that ended once Cerel, Eseryl’s brother, took the crown. Folk had named him the pleasant king for all the wickedness he had done. My parents, especially my mother and her companions at court had shown their disagreement with the way he Cerel ruled”.Gard had told Imyrve.”“A word from his grace and all his opposers were slaughtered, their homes burned and their children enslaved…”Yeffer grew neither in Eldariand nor in Marcolon. Its colors had amazed Imyrve when she had first landed on this country. The bark on its trunk was made of long roughly cracked patches of dirty dark brown. The crown of the tree was thick with golden liefs that made it glow radiantly under the rays of the sun. In summer, elongated fruits with an inky black color sprouted from its branches.The area about them swarmed with yeffer and was flecked here and there with dark spruce. The dirt lane they were following was overrun with thick grass. Bees were whizzing around the flowering trees in masses. The forest floor was carpeted with green short swards. Shaded flowers and fat bogging mushrooms thrived under the shadows of the trunks.They were not very far incide the woods when they heard the burble of a flowing stream. It was as clear as glass and no more than five feet of width. The rill went through the road and made a deep round pool where it crossed it. Its bed was paved with many sized smooth rocks. They traversed it, refilled their water skins, watered the horses, then went on.At dusk they arrived at their destination. The absence of trees made a large square of free space. In the middle stood a great ring-shaped tall tour. Three feet of green bush walls was about it. The top of the building was garlanded with an immense number of mud nests. Grey winged birds with white bellies flitted in and out of their homes.They left the river well behind, yet from inside the walls came a sound of water-rushes. The way which led within was barred by a tall gate of faded silver color. It was made of many swerving metal tongues in the likeness of vines. Its locked latch was located on its inner side, even so it could be reached from the outside. There was a wooden sign on top. These words were inscribed on it, 'Holy garden, The kingdom of bees, 943 AAOSM". (After the appearance of the second moon).Gard passed his hands between the bars and with much effort lifted the latch for it was rustes and has not been moved for quite a time. He pushed the gate with the last drop of power that was left in him then sat exhaustingly where the gate once stood shut. He appeared worn out and pale faced. He breathed heavily."I am going to have a look around the walls." Imyrve said with a high voice as if speaking with an old person."We will have dinner and rest after. Just be stronger for a bit more."The sky was growing dim and the sun was shying away behind the mountains. Murky shadows spread under the trees. For a short while Imyrve stood with closed eyes, listening to the music of the woods; the gentle cries of birds, the sound of the dancing grass, the murmur of the slithering air on tree leaves and far away trunks moaned in a crackling resonance.what an enchanting place!. Though she did not consider herself as a great traveler nor did she journeyed that much, she supposed that Monteria was the most beautiful land on Arath.Since she have been here, she came to agree with the words of the well revered eldariandi poet Doris broken-wing. A crippled boy who grew up to roam all the known lands and seas and to write many widespread common songs. Only few lines of his portrayal of this continent could she recall:Her wild heart which was already aflame,All men desperately longed to tame,Her beauty put all the other ladies to shame,Monteria was the precious maiden's name.The history of the realm this country had once been was packed with struggles and battles, yet its landscape seemed untouched by man's hands, untainted with his befouled work of war. The local architecture gave Imyrve an impression that the buildings blended so well with the wildlife. Everything that commons constructed looked as if it has been part of the scenery since the beginning.She drew a dagger from her boots, pivoted it in her hand so that the blade was hidden behind her arm. She went to do her inspection.Upon her return to the gate, Dolly was uneasily nuzzling the face of a collapsed Gard. She ran toward them. Her companion waw breathing heavily and shivering with fever. She put his arm around her neck and pulled him up trying to drag his body into the tower. She was surprised when she found herself an hour later succeedingly making him a bed and lowering his heat.Outside she found a pale of damp mouldy firewood. There was a good amount. She doubted that the logs were in a great state to produce rich flames, yet the wood burned fine as she kindled it in the fireplace. She put water in a kettle and brought it to boil, then tossed some potatoes and carrots that she got from Jenny for a coppery rofin.(A golden coin is called bin, silver coins are called dins. The copper one is a rofin.)When the soupe was nearly ready, she put few herbs that she picked on the river side earlier that day. Waking Gard, she gave him a warm bowl. "Eat slowly, there is yellow-feire and wolf-tongue in it (Herbs), it will help to ease the weariness". He thanked her. She ate hastily, then went out to take care of the horses.Dolly was chomping leaves from a shrub near the door of the tower. The other mounts were some feet away from him. She took them by their leads and moved to close the outer gate. Then it occurred to Imyrve that she has not yet explored the inside of the walls. There was a stone paved track which led from the entrance to the tower. At either side, thorn flowers spread viciously, entangled and arose high. She walked past the tower, to the rear side of the garden. There, in the midst of the bushes was a pot shaped fountain dubbed with foamy algae. Some feet to the left, a well was dug and built. It was covered by a round trapdoor-like assembled wood planks. Finding a source of water cheered her up. She unloaded and released the animals to water them selfs.Beyond the fountain, a wise circle was laid. Constructed of grey marble. An empty pool was in its centre. This is a modest one. Usually the widows yards had all sort of paintings, carvings and sculptures on them. The folk in Monteria were boastfully proud about their religion. Imyrve realised that once she perceived the costly expenses that were spent on the circles.The skies were almost entirely dark as she entered the tower again. The building was quite spacious. A stair swiveled upwards around a pillar which stood in the middle of the base. Gard, not shivering anymore, was seated near the fire with his back to the wall. She moved past him and climbed the stairs.The second floor was all empty but for a desk. Its top was covered by a mass of letters. Imyrve found a book buried among the papers. The songs of the gods.A drawing of the widow was on the cover. The illustration was framed by an egg-shaped silver chain. The goddess was bathing in the shafts of the sunlight. Her hair fell on her back and shoulders in curtains of dense white silk. Although her face was peaceful and serene, her jaws were tense and tightened. On her lap sat two twin infants.Veya and Vadey, the mother and father of all men. One of her elder children was holding a golden crown over her head. Behind the figures, the world unfolded with all its stars and colors. Imyrve discerned the moons, tiny as pearls, set on the widow's rings. She opened the book on the fourth page.The second song, were the words written at the top of the sheet. She read the verses that were in front of her:Through the wide dark world they flew, Fashioning the expanse as they wish,Yet in the heart of the lady sadness grew,For she could never feel no joy or bliss,And only her mate knew what to do,This curse of futility i can vanquish,To her he vowed,Vowed that her desires will come true,Their gloom and despair he would banish,So many a thing all together he brew,Still what came out could not be but devilish,To end it, all his vigour and power on it he threw,Her wishes, the lady was now compelled to relinquish.The lord brawled with all his might,The strength of darkness was too great,Its strikes shone awfully bright,On the lord it put an extensive weight.His determination for triumph was tested,Chaotic was the music their clash emitted,Space and time were briskly shattered,His doomed destiny the lord accepted.Dominion and control he had no more,The pressure of the blows shook his core,At the devil's soul in despair he tore,Thus their vital parts they could not restore.Light and warmth swarmed the emptiness,Suddenly, a cry of hope echoed widely,The shake its Weight set on the world was endless,The grace of the newborn sun was holy, Rock and water danced in a grand mess,From it, green things sprouted rapidly,Air was made of scents and dampness,Up above, the golden stars burned hotly,Mountains arose to a great highness,Life was shaped into beings slowly,Yet the fading of her mate the lady had to witness,She felt the future in her belly lastly. For a brief moment, Imyrve was filled with a great sense of hope. Then remembering how close to their destination they were, the feeling left her at once. She shut the manuscript and went down to make her bed.
Fiction Prose
Wolf Of Penumbra S1 Ep8 script by LittleDevil-888

Mature Content

Non Fiction Prose
Medieval usury laws and anti-Jewish sentiment by PathtoEnlighten
mega-trip report: Salviamega-trip reportWednesday, September 23rd, 2020SALVIA EXTRACT X20 TRIP:I tried salvia tonight, I mean really tried it this time. Last time I got some I was afraid to do it and only took one tiny little puff and concluded it didn’t work. This time I aggressively hit that sh*t at least a dozen times and totally blasted off. Of course I read all the trip reports online first so I’d know what to expect. A lot of them said it brought them to a whole other world, and that they communed with wise, alien beings and all that kind of thing, but my first experience was nothing like that. I recall everything was wobbly. Everything was alive and exuding its own life force. Everything was moving around. Colors and the outlines of everything were very sharp and well defined. I had my laptop open on the table before me, and all the profile pictures on Facebook looked like little windows with the people in them looking out at me. The 3-D effect was amazing! The people were all smiling and moving around in their little windows. I then went to Deviantart and had a little trouble logging into my account, but I finally did and looked at my art in 3-D for a bit. If there was writing in the picture it seemed to be floating above the picture. I remember liking my own pictures although they appeared to me a little stiff and crude, but pleasantly imaginative.  I can’t describe it, the experience had elements of mushrooms, acid and mescaline, but it was completely different from all three of them. At times it took me to a familiar place, Cartoon Land. The Flintstones particularly. I’ve had the same kind of delusion on acid at least once that I recall. I guess I watched the Flintstones a lot as a kid and it left an impression on me. I- I can’t really explain it.  LOLOf course the experience was kind of ruined near the end because I was becoming consciously aware of being trapped by Satanic forces.To be honest there wasn’t really all that much to it so I don’t have a lot to say. While peaking there was something about being picked up in a big bundle of palm trees with stuff spilling out of the sides. I was in the way and Fred and Barney (under Wilma’s supervision) were trying to work around me to stuff the palm-tree bundle into the back of a modern, enclosed truck and I got caught up in the works. For some reason I thought it was Friday or Saturday night, and I kept saying “yabba-dabba do!” a lot. LOL! I don’t know, the whole thing was beyond words. There was a lot going on but I couldn’t figure out what it was. I just mostly got vague, yet rather involved impressions.This post seems rather incomplete and I’m half tempted to do a little more just so I’d be able to share further impressions, but I don’t think I will. When I do it again I’ll just make another post. It doesn’t last too long and I’m undecided whether that’s a good or a bad thing. Only went on for about a half hour for me. Although most of the reports I read stated they had horrible, nightmarish experiences on it, mine wasn’t bad at all, which is pretty remarkable when you take into consideration all the terrible things going on in my life. I suppose I should try drawing on it. That’s definitely what I would have done if I did it back when I was artistically active. Well, I can try but I’m so out of practice I’m afraid my efforts may prove disappointing.CARTOON SPIRITUALITY:Thursday, September 24th, 2020Did salvia a couple more times today. The first time I was determined to get the full effect so I packed the bowl tight and hit it hard and held it in for 45 seconds. I then remember being in my great grandfather’s back yard, only we were enclosed by chain-link fences  (his yard was enclosed by brick walls, though there were a couple of chain-link fences in it) while he was behind me twirling a jump rope around me like an egg-beater, though there was no one holding the other end in front of me. My impression was he was powering a whirlpool of cosmic interference, opening a sort of porthole to the next world for me. I felt trapped in the maelstrom but felt I didn’t belong in it so I struggled to get out. I remember falling out on the right side.I remember there were lots of creatures or little people everywhere. This seemed normal and didn’t bother me at all. To me they seemed like little cowboys, miniature versions of the old corn pops guy from the old Saturday morning kid’s cartoon commercials. I don’t know why I seem to be going back to when I was four or five years old in these trips. Playing on the green lawn in the backyard, my great grandfather, the Flintstones, and old breakfast cereal commercials from my early childhood. I think this TV business may have began when I was six so maybe it’s my mind’s way of trying to escape it? I really don’t know when it started though. It may have been going on my entire life.I came to on the easy chair in the living room. When I reviewed the videotape I saw that after smoking the bowl I went into a sort of trance and after almost a minute I fell over on my right side, landed on the chair next to me, passed out for a few minutes, fell on the floor then crawled into the recliner chair. I seem to recall it was quite a struggle for me to perform that series of tasks, I felt I needed to get away from that whirlpool of psychic energy. Afterward the thought occurred to me that I might have had a near death experience since there was a dead relative, an energy funnel and I was unconscious for a bit, but this was salvia so there’s no way it could possibly have killed me. The twirling egg-beater jump rope was obviously my awareness of the ceiling fan running behind my back.Of course, I felt, I had done too much, so I determined to do it again after an hour or two and to do half of what I did the last time. I was trying to get it just right.This time I felt a heavy energy crawling up my arms into my neck and my hands felt like they had lead in them. I felt all over very heavy though it seemed concentrated on my left side. I remember saying to myself,”I feel like an elephant walking on skinny little giraffe legs”.Then I became aware of those little breakfast cereal mascots lassoing me with little energy vortex lassos, trying to drag me to the ground (then down to hell?). I noticed they always pulled me to the left. One thing I noticed about this stuff right away is whenever I peaked I felt I was surrounded by little people. They weren’t actually people, but some kind of entities, possibly spirits, angels or demons, though I didn’t get the impression that they were particularly good or evil.I just had a horrid thought, what if all those breakfast cereal mascots with their energy vortex lassos pulling me towards the left were actually imps trying to rope me in and hold me down and drag me to damnation? I felt the room was full of them. They were playful entities but I feel they may have been up to no good. Though Satan himself is a supremely hostile entity it’s my impression his imps (demons) are playful creatures, even while doing his work. Interesting that when I did fall I fell to the right. I suppose this was because I was consciously countering their leftward pulling. Also, in light of this, I find it interesting that most of my injuries have occurred on the left side of my body.Though I admit the experience gets progressively more interesting every time I do it I think I’ll take a break for a while.OVERWHELMED BY SALVIA:Friday, September 25th, 2020 I wasn’t sure I should do it again so soon and I hesitated for hours. Spent a lot of time writing because I’ve actually been thinking clearer since I began this experiment. Finally, a little after noon I just recklessly went ahead and plowed over my misgivings and took the plunge anyway.I did it once. At first I was totally overwhelmed by it, but managed to maintain consciousness. Again, I was on a breakfast trip for some reason.Everything was being cut to pieces by the razor-wire jump-rope vortex, even time and space. They were cutting it up like baloney to feed their families for breakfast. (Why am I on such a breakfast kick? What does it mean?) Even though it was my time and space being cut up, they had no intention of sharing it with me. “Breakfast! Morning’s all done, for everybody but me”, I said. Again it was the ceiling fan imposing itself on my consciousness that created this delusion.I also remember that the room I was in tasted exactly like the inside of my mouth. No, I didn’t lick it or anything, I was tasting it with my soul, or maybe my mind (I brush and floss at least twice a day, just for the record).“No. This is my breakfast!”, I remember saying to them. “Get your horses out of here, frogs too, and get your skull off the floor while you’re at it”, then, “Everything’s alive, you’re alive too. Why are you alive?… I don’t understand any of this. Chopping everything up into little pieces. Making something for all your kids, I don’t get it. Explain this to me!… Get down from your horse. That’s not very intimidating, just stop it!”Then I proceeded to have a lengthy conversation with the television people, the ones making my show. I thought it was amusing and clever, but, of course, since I was actually by myself nothing was resolved, but it was fun to watch on the tape I made of it.“I’m still kind of like in the wild west though. I really don’t know why, but I am. I’m fixated on a western theme for some reason. Not a real western theme, kind of like a kid’s TV show 1950s kind of western thing, cartoon of the wild west and stuff like that. It’s really weird. Yeah, so YEE haw. Ride’um cowboy. Giddy yap, Ya know what I mean?”.“Party, party, party till you explode. Till you implode. Till you evaporate or fall into little tiny pieces and get swept away”.I felt I was having a conversation with the entities, so it wasn’t like a proper trip. I was trying to talk to those beings hoping to make sense out of the chaos of the trip. The beings represented things that were actually happening. They represented things that were going on in my life. “Those things were embodied in those beings. I wonder if that’s how your mind works? Like everything you interface with has a personality and you have to figure out how to interact with it. I dunno. You get feelings and impressions from things and people, and, ummm… It’s hard to know a lot of times whether you are understanding things or just trying to force them into some semblance of sense that’s not really inherent or innate in them but that just makes a kind of sense to you”.I must have talked for over an hour. It was a real talky trip this time. I think that was my way of trying to control it. It seems to have worked, too. I actually had an okay time. This stuff seems to stay with me. Not so much mentally, but physically. I’ve felt real heavy for the past couple days. That’s something I’ve not heard any body else talk about.Saturday, September 26th, 2020LAST HURRAH:Well, I think this is the last trip I’ll take on this stuff for awhile. I can’t remember hardly any of it, and what little I do remember doesn’t make any sense. The video tapes were terrible so I deleted them. I basically lost consciousness, walked around like a zombie, knocked a bunch of stuff over and passed out. I guess it’s just not working anymore. The romance is over. Time to go our separate ways. It’s been fun and I’ll always remember it, but it’s over. Good byeI seem to recall the entities were doing things in my home that didn’t concern me and that I couldn’t understand. Just as well since they didn’t want me involved anyway. They were squeezing me into a smaller and smaller place as they took over. It took all my strength to push my way out and force a passage to where I wanted to go. I was overcoming them and fortunately the trip ended and they all disappeared.Good bye all you little creeps!
A Canine ConundrumI've heard it said that dogs are like their owners. I knew, of course, of the classic stereotypes – the thug with a Rottweiler on a chain with a spiky collar, the fake-tanned heiress clutching a Chihuahua in her handbag – but beyond that, I've often contemplated how true a phrase it is.My partner and I had wanted a dog for some time. I had dreams about the breeds I'd love to own: a Shiba Inu with a fitting Japanese moniker, or a loyal Fox terrier like the one owned by a certain Belgian adventurer. One dog I've always had a soft spot for, however, was the beagle. I swore to myself that, if I was ever lucky enough to have one enter my life, they would be named in honour of Charles Darwin… because science jokes are the best jokes.A few months ago, we finally took the plunge, and visited our local rescue shelter. After checking our references and reading our paperwork, the staff introduced us to a charming Jack Russell - Dizzy. I'd dealt with the breed before, as my family owned a Jack Russell cross in childhood, and I fell in love with him as soon as I saw him. He was an older dog, but in excellent health, which was reassuring. However, his homecoming carried a caveat."Dizzy's been raised with another dog," we were told. "Not blood related – different breeds entirely – but they've been together their whole lives, up until their owner passed away. They can't be separated due to severe anxiety. If you take Dizzy, you'll have to take his brother, too."I felt my heart breaking as my partner and I exchanged glances. We both adored Dizzy, but could we really cope with two dogs?"No harm in asking, is there?" my partner said.I nodded."Who's the other dog?" I asked."He's even older, but very healthy - apart from a touch of arthritis.""And the breed?""A Beagle cross. His name's Darwin."I burst into a hysteric laugh as my partner turned to me, wide-eyed. I'd told him of my beagle dreams some time ago. This was fate. We both knew it was. There was nothing else for it. Within a week, both Dizzy and Darwin came home with us.They settled in wonderfully. No destruction, no bad behaviour… it was as if we’d always owned them. Dizzy bonded strongly with my partner: sitting beside his chair as he worked from home, looking up at him lovingly, like the logo of a certain music shop. He enjoys a run about, fetching a ball: a giddy puppy in a senior dog's body. My partner's own playfulness comes out around him, and it's wonderful to see.Darwin, on the other hand, seemed drawn to me. Due to his arthritis, long walks were a no-go, so every day at noon, I take him out for a slow stroll around the block, whilst my partner and Dizzy have a longer run later on. (The boys don’t mind being apart so much these days: they know that their brother is at home waiting for them.) Our little ritual appears to have become programmed into Darwin's body clock. At five to twelve, he wanders up to me at my makeshift dining table turned desk, waiting for me to log off and fetch the lead.Today, as Darwin was having a sniff around a particularly intriguing lamppost, a passer-by across the street gave us a wave. His mask muffled his words, but I could make out what he was saying."Lovely dog you have there! You can tell he's yours!"As I stooped down, wearing a black bag on my hand like some postmodern mitten, to pick up one of Darwin's little parcels, the man's kindly message went around and around in my head. I looked at Darwin, then at myself – my head bobbing back and forth like a metronome, as I pondered the similarities between us.Darwin is very anxious. He hates being alone, but he sometimes barks at other dogs in the street, acting out of fear rather than aggression. I, too, have had an anxiety disorder for years. I feel lonely in isolation, yet I loathe parties where I don't know other guests: I either linger in the corner, too scared to approach anyone, or come on too strongly, talking too loudly as I ramble on about some geeky thing they have no interest in. The pandemic has done little to ease my frightened feelings. Some days, as I've sat on the sofa weeping, worrying about the rising death toll, the R number, and how the world will be after all this, Darwin has staggered up to me on tired little paws, and laid his head in my lap. As I smile weakly, stroking his drooping ears, my heart is filled with a sense of kinship - as if he understands what I am going through.Even our daily routines are similar. We're both early risers, and enjoy a good breakfast – although I much prefer pancakes over Pedigree Chum. I give him his daily dose of joint supplements, whilst I choke down a multivitamin and my antidepressants. I play some music to help him relax and to make my work day a bit brighter: experimentation has revealed we're both fans of classical melodies and soothing smooth jazz. After our noon walk, he has a treat and a drink from his water bowl, whilst I pop the kettle on and grab a snack. He enjoys a good doze on the sofa or in his basket, and by 9pm, I'm ready to curl up in bed with a blanket myself.We even both have a limp. Mine is very slight, and hardly noticeable – my foot moves slightly outwards rather than straight ahead. Whilst he is more pronounced, on account of the arthritis, it is still another trait we share. So, I have to wonder - if you knew everything about my personality and physique, and had both myself and Darwin in two line-ups alongside our human and canine peers, would you pick us out and put us together through some perceived sense of connection?To conclude, whilst Darwin and I may now offer some evidence of dogs being like their owners, the way both of my canine companions have warmed my heart and brought brightness to my life has definitely proved the truth of another favourite quote of mine, from Groucho Marx:"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."
A Day In My Life IVLet me just say: WTF? Yesterday was an extremely stressful emotional rollercoaster ride. I was in the bathroom about to wash my hands when I heard a heart-wrenching yelp coming from my dog. I burst from the bathroom thinking he had broken his leg again. I found him stretched across the threshold to my bedroom on his side. He had a seizure that lasted about thirty seconds and he peed a little on the floor. Needless to say, I freaked out. I called the vet and got him in. I determined it was caused by the new allergy medicine he was taking. He had a seizure last year when he took, I think a chew to maintain joints. Two weeks on the medicine and bam! Seizure.When we got to the vet we were in one of the rooms waiting and through the walls I heard someone getting their pet being put down. I felt terrible for the owner, at the same time I was panicking over my dog. The vet checked him out and said he was okay, just to discontinue the medicine. My dog is my baby and when I heard him cry out for help it broke my heart. He's resting comfortably next to me as I write this curled up in his sweater asleep. I had to go grocery shopping this morning and it was hard to leave him even for a short period of time after what happened yesterday. Thankfully, my sister looked after him so he's not alone. I'm so grateful I can work from home, especially with all his health issues. I did plan to write a Valentine bonus chapter for my story A Little Spark and I may still do that I just don't know if I'll get it done in time. I'll try to.I hope everyone is doing well and that they stay safe out there. Michiganders: More snow on the way! Ugh!
Fan Fiction
First TimeWhen he brought her to the middle of nowhere, Botan had no idea what Hiei wanted from her. As he practically pounced on her, the fire demon’s intention became a bit clearer. At first, Hiei simply kissed her, Botan’s back pressed against a tree. She giggled at the sensation of Hiei’s surprisingly gentle fingers grazing her sides. Then he started to remove the outer layer of her kimono and Botan’s eyes shot open in surprise.She nearly shrieked in his mouth and then pushed Hiei off of her. Irritated pools of crimson bore into her; he was completely unamused. He made to resume their make-out session, but Botan stopped him again. This time, he growled his frustrations. “What?” came his hiss, and Botan blushed and her eyes filled with guilt.“I…I…” She scrambled to think of a response. To be honest, it wasn’t that she was opposed to Hiei’s ministrations, but there was something bothering her. She closed her eyes and yelled out her concerns. “I don’t want my first time to be against a tree!”Hiei flashed her his usual impassive gaze of boredom before he monotonously grumbled, “And I suppose you’d prefer a bed in a place with paper-thin walls?”“Or at least something softer!” the ferry girl protested. Before she knew it, her head hit the ground, and Hiei’s form covered hers. They were on the ground in a pile of leaves.The fire demon smirked his both infuriating and sexy smirk. “Better?” he crooned.Botan flashed him a heatless glare. “Hiiiieeeiiii!” The woman whined as she squirmed underneath him, which only served to amuse Hiei. Like she could actually move him when he didn’t want her to. “I’m going to get all dirty.”Hiei’s smirk became a cocky grin. “That’s already a given, woman.”“That’s—”The fire demon crashed his lips to hers once again and gently sucked on her lower lip. He swallowed both her moans of protest and passion, and eventually she stopped fighting him. As he began to undo the outer layer of her attire, she did pull away for a moment to warn him that they were in public, but Hiei didn’t care. He wanted his woman, here and now, and nothing was going to stop him.“Oh my God!”Except for the voice of the oaf who had come completely out of nowhere.Botan had seen Hiei move fast before, but he was off of her like lightening. He leaned against the tree with his arms crossed as if they hadn’t been caught in a compromising position. He looked completely serious, a light dusting of red to his cheeks, as he stared down the redheaded psychic. Kuwabara looked like he’d been the one caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “If you value your life,” Hiei spoke darkly, “then you will speak of this to no one.”Kuwabara sputtered, careful not to eye Botan or remove his eyes from Hiei. “Y-you can’t…” he began to say, but Hiei’s eyes never changed. The psychic started to back away and held his hands up in defense. “I saw nothing,” he stated, voice tight with embarrassment. With that, the oaf did the smart thing, turned tail, and left an embarrassed ferry girl and irate fire demon alone in the woods.It looked like this wouldn’t be their first time after all.
Scripts and ScreenPlays
ATM Sketch(A man stands in front of an ATM and slides a red credit card into the machine and puts in his number. The ATM tells him it’s an invalid pin. He groans with frustration and then hears a loud click and feels something hard push against his spine. He turns around and sees a masked mugger standing behind him.)MUGGER:Don’t be scared but I’m about to rob you.GUY: (smirks without looking behind him)I know that gun. Is that a .45 semi-automatic?MUGGER:That’s a very good guess. How did you know?GUY:I could feel it.MUGGER:No. Really?GUY:That’s a bit too much gun. Next time I’d suggest a snub nosed .38. Quicker on the draw.MUGGER:That’s a good suggestion, I’ll remember that.GUY:Is there anything I could do for you?MUGGER:I’d like to have all your money, please.GUY:I’d love to help you, but I can’t remember the pin.MUGGER:Oh. That’s alright. Take your time, we got all night.(MUGGER #1 hears a clicking sound and feels something hard push against his spine. A second mugger in a red-yellow mask stands behind the first mugger).MUGGER #2Give me all your money!MUGGER #1 turns around and smiles at Mugger number #2.MUGGER 2:Oh, great. It’s you again.MUGGER:Oh, hi Phil. How’re the kids?GUY:You two know each other?MUGGER #2What’re you doing, you know this is my spot.MUGGER:I got as much right as anyone else.GUY (TO MUGGER #2):Your voice sounds familiar. Did you ever do time in Albany?MUGGER #2Just shut up and empty your pockets!MUGGER:I’m flat broke. I was just about to rob this man. If you wait a minute, I’d be happy to oblige you.MUGGER #2 (sighs)Fine.MUGGER: (To the GUY)Try the number again.GUY: (put’s in the pin)Didn’t work.MUGGER:Are you sure you’re using the right card?GUY:Yes!MUGGER 2:God, we’ll be here all night!MUGGER:That’s a pessimistic attitude. I’m sure the next time he tries the pin he’ll get it. Go ahead.GUY:I got one attempts left, if it’s not right the machine will eat my card.MUGGER:Concentrate really hard, is the number your birthday?GUY:No, that’s too obvious.MUGGER:Maybe it’s your mother’s birthday?MUGGER #2Get off the birthdays! That’s not it!MUGGER:Do you have any money in your wallet you can give us?GUY:If I had money would I be here at an ATM?MUGGER #2:That’s a good point.GUY:I’m sorry, fellas. It’s not going to happen tonight.MUGGER:Oh, that’s too bad.MUGGER #2:Terrific!GUY:I’m afraid you’ll have to rob someone else tonight. Again, I’m really sorry.MUGGER:Don’t worry about it, these things happen.MUGGER #2There’s a cop coming down the street. I’m out of here.(MUGGER #1 and MUGGER #2 run in opposite direction. Another guy comes running down the street and stops in front of the GUY).Guy #2:Excuse me but did you see a man with a red credit card just stop by here?GUY #1:Can’t say that I have.(A cop car pulls up in front of the ATM and rolls down their window.)COP:What’s the problem?GUY #2My credit card has been stolen. I think someone just tried to use it.COP:Sorry, there’s not too much we can do about that.(Guy #1 ejects the credit card and briskly walks away.)
Wolf Of Penumbra S1 Ep6 (literature) by LittleDevil-888
Wolf Of Penumbra S1 Ep5 (literature) by LittleDevil-888

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:iconnightligt:
NightLigt Featured By Owner May 1, 2020  Hobbyist Writer
Is this group still active?
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:iconminehunter9:
minehunter9 Featured By Owner Apr 9, 2020  Hobbyist General Artist
Hello, I'm hoping to get critique on this. It would be helpful and thank you. The World As I Know itAs I stepped into the shower, the week that had just passed flooded out of my mind. The warm water washed away the feeling that at any moment all hell could break loose and replaced it with the feeling of a calm, yet restless environment. I just stood in the water, letting it wash over me. The tranquility set my mind and body at ease. I stood facing the inner wall with the gentle pressure falling onto my shoulders. Eventually, the water turned cold and with the heat; my perception of reality left as well. “Are you listening to me? Hello, Blush? Helloooo?” someone was talking to me. “What?” I responded to the annoying voice in my ear. “Are you planning on sleeping all day?” I felt a pair of arms under my own attempt to lift me up. “Come on. You’re too heavy for me to move on my own.” “That’s a lie. Go on without me, I’m taking a nap.” The sound of a hand slamming down on my desk came less than a second after finishing that sentence. It startled me enough for me to sit up. It was Maria, my best friend, and the only person bold enough to give an honest try at waking me up. She was close to my face which made me jump in my seat. “May, what do you want?” May was her nickname. She’s a sweet girl who likes to be friendly with everyone as long as the first thing they ask her about isn’t the black eyepatch on her left eye. She was always sensitive about that. “I want you to take an after-school club or activity. You’re coming with me and I won’t take no for an answer.” I looked up at her and was about to make up an excuse when someone else started talking. “May, don’t bother with her. She’ll just find an excuse to go home and flake on us again.” It was Rosarie. Her, May and I were best friends before high school when we had a falling out I couldn't remember why but, It kept since just before the school year. She also had a habit of calling everyone “Mis” and “Mister” regardless of age. Everyone aside for those she considers friends. “What do you mean ‘flake on us again’? You don’t even deserve an Irish goodbye.” “Har, har, har. The Irish girl that doesn’t deserve an Irish goodbye? Don’t make laugh.” “Come to think about it, aren’t you Scottish?” “Mis Hamlett, you don’t even seem to know what I am.” “Aww, this is the first time you two talked in like a month. Does that mean that the Super Star Squad is back on?” May intervened. Used to call ourselves the Super Star Squad because of our distinct hair colors. Rosarie was a deep redhead May was bright blonde and my hair was pitch black. We each identified as a star and even took it far enough to have a mantra. “You know what? We can settle this right now.” I had gotten up after noticing that the classroom was empty except for us three. “Blush, you’re jumping the gun.” May’s warning landed on deaf ears. “And how do you suppose we do that?” Responded Rosarie. “You too?” said May. “Same as always; we wrestle. The first one on the ground loses. If I win, you shut up for the rest of the day- no, a week as long as you’re around me except those few times where you actually need to say something.” After enough scuffles with other people, we both realized that if we fought with each other, there would be no end so, the one hitting the ground first rule was decided on to mitigate that possibility. “You guys don’t need to do this.” May was still voicing her opinion. “Then, If I win, you go a day- no, a week without your precious earmuffs. That goes for your headphones too.” She knew my weakness as well as anyone. I was always very sensitive about my ears. They come to an unnatural point at the end, so I always hid them in a pair of blue earmuffs or headphones. Whenever they were uncovered in public, I’d turn red in embarrassment. That’s how I got the nickname “Blush”. “You got yourself a deal.” We moved the desks around and made sure the door was locked so that we couldn’t be interrupted. “Are you ready to lose?” “Please stop,” May interjected again. “That’s my line.” Said Rosarie, ignoring May as much as I was. We were on opposite sides of the room, ready to run at each other. “You guys are making me mad.” We both heard her and didn’t heed her warning. “Three, two, one, go,” We said, at the same time before rushing to grapple with each other. As soon as we made contact, we both fell to the ground. We were pushed over by May and she was on top of us. “Hey, what was that for-.” I started before getting cut off. “You both lose.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Earmuffs.” “What? But-.” “Now.” She was mad. It would be difficult, to say the least, to make someone like May mad but we succeeded. “Ok... Here you go.” I took them off and handed them to her. “Headphones too.” “They’re in my jacket pocket.” She reached into my black jean pocket and took out my headphones. “What are you gonna do with them?” I asked. “I’m keeping them,” she said, storing them carefully in her purse. “What? But-.” “You lost, remember?” “She told you-,” Started Rosarie before also getting cut off. “Shh! Not unless spoken to. By me. You lost too.” “But-.” “Shh!” Rosarie looked down on herself, ashamed. “She sure told you- Oww!” May grabbed me by my left ear. “That actually hurts you know.” I reached for her hand to pull it away. “If you pull, It gets worse.” I didn’t contest her. “You’ll get your stuff back when we’re done finding you something to do after school instead of you just taking naps in the classroom to make everyone think you’re doing something. I care about your future and to hell, if you don’t.” “Heh, heh- Ow!” Rosarie started laughing and was shut up with a pinch to the cheek. “I’m sick of you two fighting and bickering all the time. You’re supposed to be friends so, act like it.” “No, I don’t like being forced to socialize with people like her,” I said, folding my arms. “For once, I agree,” Confirmed Rosarie. “If you don’t get along right now.” May leaned in towards the ear she was holding. “I’ll do that thing you don’t like.” Her whispering in my ear alone was enough to send bad shivers down my spine. “And you.” She leaned in and whispered something to Rosarie that made her straighten up and shake her head involuntarily. “Do I make myself clear you two?” “Yes, mom,” I responded. “Rose?” she looked to Rosarie. “It’s hard to argue with sound logic like that.” Responded Roserie “Now, stand up and hug, got it?” We were both sitting on the floor until she let us go. We stood up, facing each other. “Better yet, shake hands. I don’t trust either of you two with a hug yet.” We reluctantly shook hands and followed May out of the classroom and down to the old gym. The old gym was a hub for many after school sports activities. It was also where other clubs advertised themselves. The gym was more than large enough for at least four different clubs to use at once. There were also dividers set up to split the gym evenly and prevent squabbles. They never really worked. “So Blush, see anything you like?” “No.” “Don’t be like that. How about ballet?” “You made me try ballet last time and I didn’t like it remember?” “No, last time, you flaked on us.” She came close to my face. “Remember? And don’t try that ‘I had something to do at home’ excuse. I checked with your mom.” “Hey, how are you just gonna go all the way to the top on me like that?” “Stop flaking and I won’t have to.” She came really close to stomping her foot. “Ok, how about we start by ruling out anything you don’t like.” “I don’t like anything that involves physical activity or thinking,” I said, knowing that most of the clubs involved those exact two things. “Ok, how about the music club, anime club, or book club?” “Book club still requires thinking.” “Not that kind of thinking.” “Touche,” I said, after a moment of reflection. “Besides, If I wanted to listen to music, I’d do it at home. Same for reading, and have you ever heard of a weabu?” “No, what is that?” “I don’t know but, it sounds like a derogatory term for people who watch anime and I don’t want something else for people to call me.” I knew what the term meant and that I didn’t describe me in the least but I was hoping the mention of a derogatory term would persuade her. “But, don’t you watch anime?” She asked, innocently. “You’re a weabu.” I clearly heard it from Rosarie. I was a split second from turning and slapping her in the face. “Rose!” I hadn't heard May yell in a long time and it scared me. We both jumped. “What did I say in the classroom?” “Not to speak unless you speak to me...” “Right so, apologize to Blush.” “Do I have to?” “Yes.” “Sorry, Ms. Hamlett.” “Is that how you address your friends?” “Blush.” “How’s it feel to be bossed around?” I immediately regretted saying that. “Now, Morgan.” The only time she’d call me by my first name is when she was serious. “Yes, ma’am?” I took a half step back. “You know I love you, right?” I tried to take another step back, but she caught me in a hug. “Yeah so, can you let me go?” I knew what she was going to do and it was too late to stop it. She had my arms pinned to my sides and the position was locked in. “No. You know, I’m trying to help you and you keep fighting me on this. It seems like you need all the tuff love I can give.” While saying this, she lifted me up off of the ground and squeezed. “Now, pick a club or I’m just gonna drag you kicking and screaming to ballet with me.” “Ok, I’ll be a weeb and join the anime club now, will you put me down? This hurts.” She let up and stopped squeezing, but didn't put me down. “Hey, Mighty Mouse.” Someone familiar-sounding came walking up. “I thought I heard a commotion. What are you doing here? I thought you had ballet.” “I’m not going today. I’m helping Blush find something to do after school, whether she likes it or not,” Responded May. “Blush? Oh, Morgan.” He moved where I could see him. “What did you to piss off Maria that bad?” He was a little taller than me with blue-dyed spiky hair and dark eyes in fencing gear. His name was Nile and even though they never really acted like a couple, he and May were definitely into each other. “It wasn’t just me. Help.” “Sorry, no can do. It seems like you made your bed in this one.” “If you’re not gonna help then, piss off- uh.” I was squeezed again for a second. “Sorry.” “Man, you really stepped into it this time, huh?” He looked over at Rosarie. “And why do you have such a long face.” She gestured to her throat to communicate that she couldn’t speak. “Why can’t you talk?” She pointed at me and May. “Morgan, what did you do?” “No, I said she couldn’t talk,” Said May, sweetly. “They were fighting again and I intervened this time. Isn’t that right, Rose?” She nodded and kept silent. “They hurt my feelings so they're doing what I say to make it up to me. Isn’t that right, Blush?” “I mean, you’re kinda forcing me to- oww you’re making my elbows dig into my sides. Why are you so strong anyway?” “Because I do ballet. I have to pick up heavier girls than you.” “I see you took off those earmuffs.” Said Nile, rubbing my head. In less than a second, my teeth were bared and his hand was in my crosshairs. With a quick move from May, He just narrowly avoided missing a glove and a finger. “Now, Blush, what did I say back in the classroom?” “You only said that I had to get along with her,” I said, leaning my head towards Rosarie. “Ok, you asked for it. Gimme that ear.” She released one arm to grab at my ear. I took that chance to escape. I purposely hadn’t been squirming up till that point just in case. I quickly wriggled out of her grasp and made way toward the door. Rosarie tried to block it, but she was too late. I was past her before she knew what was happening. I stopped in my tracks after the door closed behind me. I didn’t have my earmuffs or headphones and I wasn’t sure exactly what would happen if May caught me. That girl really doesn’t know her strength so, I had no choice but to hide in the classroom. When they found me, I was sniffling while covering my ears in the corner. I wasn’t crying up till then but, when I heard the two of their voices entering the room, I started. “Blush, is that you?” Cooed May, carefully shifting toward me. I slowly nodded my head. “Were you crying?” I shook my head. “Did I scare you that much?” I nodded. “I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you ok?” I nodded again. “I shouldn't have gotten so mad at you two, to begin with. It’s just that when I see you two fighting, it gets to me, you know?” I nodded again. “I just want things to go back to the way they used to be. When you two were friendly with each other and not at each other's throats.” She gave me an earnest hug. “Come on. Let’s just hang out today. Just the three of us.” “Alright, I get it,” I said, getting up. ”I’m not a fragile snowflake. I didn’t mean to act like one and you know I hate being treated like one. It’s just that my ear still really hurts.” I showed them my ear. “Oh, I’m really sorry. It’s all red and swollen. Here’s your earmuffs back and your headphones.” “I can’t wear either one anyway because it would make my ear hurt more.” I put them both in my bookbag. “Now, how am I supposed to go home?” “Let me see.” Rosarie was the last one I expected to say something. She moved behind me, took out my butterfly hair clip and gently patted what was a loose ponytail down over my ears. “You look totally different now but, at least, your ears won’t show. Mostly.” “Are trying to be friendly?” I asked, vaguely unsure of the answer. “I thought a little goodwill would go a long way. Honestly, I don’t remember why we started fighting to begin with.” “Me neither.” “I know why,” Said May. “I pay close attention to you two. The reason why you two started fighting is that; Rose, you were always the posh and bossy type and Bluh; you were always a rebellious tomboy with a stark dislike for rules and those who enforce them. You two always countered each other and, I was always the mediator detective there to spit facts and put you both in your place. Somewhere along the line, you two became more at odds than before and I wasn’t there to mediate as much.” “You make it sound like a T.V show,” I said, hugging her tightly. “It’s not your fault, trust me, It’s ours. You shouldn’t have to mediate between us anyway.” “It’s true,” Confirmed Rosarie, hugging the both of us. “If I knew I had a flaw like that, I’d have worked to change that and I’m sure Blush would have as well.” “I agree but, when you put it that way, it sounds like it might be your fault for not letting us know our flaws when you thought it might be ruining our friendship.” I continued. “Does that mean that our friendship can set sail?” Asked May. “I’m the red star, blazing across distant seas.” Started Rosarie. “I’m the bright sun, twirling in every horizon!” Continued May, excitedly. “And I’m-” I started, subconsciously. With me being so used to saying it, the words came out on their own. The other two looked at me, knowingly and I continued. “The void of twilight, mystifying mortals in the night.” “And together we’re the Super Star Squad!” We cheered together. “So, where are we hanging out today?” I asked. “Follow us, we’ll take you to a secret place I have in mind,” said May. “May, you can’t just decide that it’s against the rules.” Complained Rosarie. “Screw the rules. That’s your bossiness getting ahead of you,” I said, “So, where is it?” “It’s a secret, so you'll just have to follow us to find out.” Responded May. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? There’s a reason she wasn’t picked.” Rosarie whispered to May. We were already walking outside and down one of the few deserted streets in the neighborhood. All of the houses were boarded up or in complete shambles. May told me to stay around fifteen feet behind them until we got to our destination. “I can hear you, you know,” I spoke up. “It’ll be ok.” Responded May, giving me a thumbs-up behind her back. “But what if it’s not?” Continued Rose. “Then, she’ll be my responsibility.” “More like our responsibility.” “I see we’re in agreement then.” “Whatever.” She sighed. About halfway down the block, they took a turn towards the back yard of one of the houses. Suddenly, a quick breeze whipped by and I scrambled to cover my ears. In doing so, I lost sight of the two. Continuing towards the house they went behind, I got a strong feeling that I shouldn’t have been there. The feeling made me stop and reconsider if I was going the right way. Looking around, the house was the same but, I saw no back door or any entrance in general. None boarded up or makeshift. It was definitely strange. I was literally fifteen feet behind them and they were gone. I began looking around and touching the outside of the house. I came to a spot in the middle next to an old firehose. The same feeling from before struck through me and I backed off. “Stay out,” I said impulsively. It was like the feeling itself had a scripture or a written form and I ‘read’ it if you will. Getting closer, The feeling got stronger and my ears started feeling hot. I touched the wall and they started burning up. I felt like I was just hit with a bad fever. It scared me and the more scared I got, the hotter my ears felt and the more I wanted to know why I was feeling that way. “Stop,” I said, aloud and the sound of glass breaking came from in front of me A doorway sized portion of the wall was gone and replaced by a set of stairs. The negative feeling went away but not the burning of my ears. It actually felt kind of soothing and made the pain I was still in less noticeable. I followed the stairs down and was greeted by voices down a surprisingly clean hallway. The stairs and floor were both light blue and the walls were stone-grey. There were at least five brown doors on each side of the hall leading to a blue one at the end. Creeping toward the only off-color door, the voices became clearer. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t just bring her here because she’s your friend.” It was Nile’s voice. “Though, It’s not like I didn’t see this coming.” “But she might be able to do something. Even if it’s not much.” This time, it was May’s voice. “That’s not the point. She has problems with authority.” He responded. “We can’t afford someone like that.” “He has a point.” There was a new voice. If it was who I thought it was, I was going to punch him in the face. He had the same authority problem that I had. “You said that the only qualifier was outstanding natural abilities. You of all people should know what she’s capable of.” Of all people, Rose was standing up for me. “True, but she’s not the type to take orders or follow rules. How are we supposed to keep her from becoming a liability?” he replied. “Easy.” said May, “She listens to me.” “Fine, she’s both of your responsibilities then,” Said Niles. “Why me too?” asked Rose, as if she didn’t already expect it. “Two pairs of eyes are better than one. Especially on her.” “Does that mean that I can be a part of whatever this is?” I said, opening the door and stepping into the room. The walls and the floor were the same as the hallway except for the carpet, dartboard, multiple different seats, and tables. “How did she get in here?” Whispered the boy hiding behind a door frame to the left at the other side of the room. It was exactly who I thought it was. His name was Mikael. A cousin on my dad’s side. I’d recognize that pale complexion and blue eyes anywhere. “I saw you go over there dumbass!” I called to him. “I also heard you bad-mouthing me.” “Blush, your ears.” May’s eyes widened and seemingly glazed over. “They’re on fire.” “They feel like they’re on fire- wait, you can still see them?” “It’s hard not to.” Rose pulled out a hand mirror. “Look.” My ears were surrounded in flames and my hair was constantly flowing back even though there was no wind. “That’s really cool,” I said, watching as my hair and the flickering flames went different directions based on how I moved my head. “Hey, Morgan,” Niles called to me and I looked up at him. “Catch.” He tossed a wooden sword at me and I caught it. “There’s a button on the handle. Watch your fingers, press it, and concentrate. The flames should go away.” He lifted himself off of the blue sofa in which he sat and began walking toward the same exit that Mikael took. “You can use that for now.” I pressed the button and a blade extended out of what I thought was a blunt edge. It’s weight increased as well. It came from weighing about as much as a stick to as much as a steel pole. It nearly tipped me over but, I just barely held onto it. The blade turned red and my ears stopped feeling so hot. “Oh yeah, and welcome to the Fury Hunter’s Guild.” He stepped out of the door and left me with May, Rose, and a million questions.TO BE CONTINUED 
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:iconnijah-brown:
Nijah-Brown Featured By Owner Oct 21, 2019  Professional Writer
I am working on publishing a novel. I have everything pretty much in order, yet no fanbase really. Any advice on gaining and maintaining a fanbase
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:iconsupach:
Supach Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you :heart:
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:iconpeace-in-violence:
Peace-In-Violence Featured By Owner Jul 21, 2019  Student Traditional Artist
ANYONE WANT FREE CRITS?

So my dastardly brother has decided to make himself of benefit to society by starting a blog wherein he critiques books. He'll mostly focus on self-published authors and beginners rather than doing the works of traditions authors...so basically don't expect him to run around talking smack about George. R. R Martin. Pfft, chicken. Anyway, if you have something that you want critiqued, go ahead and shoot me a note. I'll get it to him. This will be public and might get a little brutal depending on how much he finds, but he won't be mean or derogative and he's actively trying to help. Last thing to know is that these crits won't be book long or even entire chapters worth, he'll pick one or more sections of varying length, edit them and upload.

That should be everything. Feel free to ask questions.
Fare thee well my future friends.

P.S He's been critiquing for several years now, has written several books ( self published) and is widely read so he is somewhat experienced
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:iconlittledevil-888:
LittleDevil-888 Featured By Owner Edited Mar 20, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
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:iconwolfamongroseshb:
WolfAmongRosesHB Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2018   General Artist
Is there any active staff in this group? :\
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:iconaeolanyira:
Aeolanyira Featured By Owner Sep 9, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Is this group still active?
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(1 Reply)
:iconjimgirka:
jimgirka Featured By Owner Sep 3, 2018
Thought you guys might be interested in this, I have been: www.patreon.com/Runey
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:icon9utsy:
9utsy Featured By Owner Jun 30, 2018  Professional Digital Artist
Hello!

I would like to offer a small job for someone who is over 18 years old (preferably from England, but it's optional) and english must be your native language (because it isn't mine).

I write and illustrate erotic comics, and I'm currently working in a Sherlock Holmes erotic parody, so I need someone who can help me correct and edit the script to make it sound more like the Victorian age. It doesn't have to be extremely accurate but at least I would like it to sound english.

The script is explicit, that's why I need the interested person to be over the legal age (18+). It is a Word document of 8 pages and around 3000 words. 

If anyone is interested please contact me by note to let me know your prices and terms and conditions. I'm very open to negotiation.

Thanks for your time and have a nice day!
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:icongirlwiththeblueblood:
girlwiththeblueblood Featured By Owner Jan 26, 2018  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Quick question, is mature content welcome here?
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