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Literature
Tokka Week: Nap Time
They spent the rest of the class discussing who would have custody of Lin at what times.
Well. Not really discussing. Toph told him.
“The only times I cannot actually have flour baby—”
“Her name is Lin,” said Sokka. He smiled at her lazily, like he was enjoying interrupting her at every turn. Toph was tempted to grab his ear and yank his head up off the desk, but she would get in trouble for that, not him.
“Fine. Lin. The only time I cannot actually have ‘Lin’ in my lap, like we are supposed to, is during my music lessons on Monday night and during my Tai Chi lessons on Friday. I will bring ‘Lin’ to you at the last bell. Fair?”
Sokka tilted his head from side to side, considering this. “You know, there really needs to be more trust present in our relationship. You talk like I don’t know anything about babies, but you’re not even holding her right.”
Toph looked down at the flour sack, resting betwe
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Literature
Tokka Week: TLC
There are two phrases every student dreads: group project and your partners will be assigned.
Toph ground her teeth, waiting for Miss Joo Dee to reach her name. When she did, she wanted to claw her face off. The class slacker. Because what else kind of luck would she have?
Joo Dee finished reading, and Toph glanced over her shoulder. Sokka hadn’t lifted his head from his desk; he looked like he might be asleep, like always. Scowling, Toph picked up her bag and moved to the back row. She accepted the assignment sheet from the girl in front of her and poked Sokka with her pen.
He stirred, then jerked upright. “Shit,” he muttered, lifting his head.
Toph narrowed her eyes at him; he didn’t seem to notice. As she skimmed the assignment packet—it was huge—the teacher called them up one by one to claim their flour babies. When she called their group, Toph started to get up, but Sokka beat her to the punch, sliding her the smile that made him
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Literature
The Light Is Always on You
G.B. put Marshall Lee from his mind. It was not easy, but G.B. had plenty of practice.
***
The phone call woke G.B. from sleep.
“Are you awake?”
G.B. frowned at the phone. He wanted to be angry and found he could not be, but at least he could sound peevish. It was petty, wanting Marshall Lee to think G.B. didn’t care, but G.B. would be the first to admit he was petty. At least where Marshall Lee was involved. “I am now.”
“Oh, shit, sorry—I didn’t realize what time it was. Fuck.”
He sounded honestly sorry. G.B. found himself relenting, if only because he was pleased to know, like always, that Marshall Lee hadn’t gotten himself into serious trouble. “It’s all right.” G.B. rubbed his eyes with the back of his arm, then rolled over to grope for his glasses. He didn’t need them to talk on the phone, but it felt strange to be awake without wearing them. “It’s Friday. I don’t have school tomo
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Literature
A Statement Based on Truth
Marshall Lee had been gone for three weeks, five days, and seventeen hours.
Not that G.B. was keeping track. He just had a very good memory.
This was the fifth time Marshall Lee had left without warning—not that G.B. was keeping track of that, either.
***
Marshall Lee called G.B. in the middle of the night—which, by this point, was no surprise. “Can I come over?” Marshall Lee asked, not even waiting for a sound from G.B.
G.B. blinked at his headboard. He was tangled in his sheets, clutching his pillow in one hand and the phone with the other. Marshall Lee’s words hadn’t quite made sense, but the tone did. He never sounded so… serious. “Say it again?” G.B. mumbled. His mouth tasted like fuzz.
“I just…” Marshall Lee drew in a breath. “I got some really bad news, and you’re… you’re kind of the only person I know around here, and—”
Somewhere in the middle of Marshall Lee’s thir
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Literature
PHOCT Epilogue
    Before stepping onto the barge, Ron glanced over his shoulder at the entrance to Hades. It seemed surreal that he was finally leaving this place. There was no way to really understand how much time he’d spent there, but it felt longer than a lifetime. And he’d had a pretty eventful life.
    Then, letting out a slow breath, he walked up the ramp to join the rest of his group. Jesse was looking out over the water, drumming his fingers on the guard rail thoughtfully. Izanami sat on the seating lining the edge, her hands tucked into her sleeves and her lips curled in a thin, pleased smile. “Will you not sit by me, Mr. Merrit?” she asked.
    Ron obeyed. “I just realized I haven’t—thanked you,” he said. The words came slow and clumsily; he felt like someone else should be saying them. He still couldn’t believe he’d made it out. “But… really. It means a lo
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Literature
PHOCT 6: Redemption, 5
    Drac walked back to AJ: slowly, with his eyes fixed on his feet. She leaned against the column, one hand propped on her hip. “Now what was that all about, Thane?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
    “You know the answer, so don’t ask.” Drac put one hand on the hilt of his angel’s knife—not a threat, but for comfort, for the sake of the memory.
    She glanced over at Ron and his friend. She was crying against his chest; he was holding her, wearing a look that AJ found uncomfortably familiar—it looked like the way she felt when the rug got pulled out from under her. When she realized she had to stop running, if only so she didn’t run away from the only good thing in her life. She shook her head. What did she have to run away from now? She didn't know what was right anymore or what was good.
    “Think they’re done?” she asked.
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Literature
PHOCT 6: Redemption, 4
Tiamat turns on Saturday, allowing Arya to slay him again and take back his power. She has difficulty controlling his powers again, but Izanami steps forward and helps her by taking control of a large part of the souls. She and Rin and Jesse go to find Ron, leading their army of the dead.***
     “We’ve got some time to kill, apparently,” said AJ. She put her backpack on the ground. “Wanna play cards or something? I’m bored.”
    Drac hardly listened to her. He was looking at Persephone.
    She stopped and followed his gaze. “Now what’re you looking at her for?”
    “I want more information,” said Drac, which AJ knew was a cover for “I don’t know how to talk about this.”
    AJ frowned. Then she put her backpack on again—wincing when the free strap brushed her bad arm—and walked over to
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Literature
PHOCT 6: Redemption, 3
    Outside the apartments, Izanami stopped, her head tipped back and a sharp frown on her face. “I feel a great disturbance,” she said, frowning. She turned to walk toward the Asphodel Fields.
    Jesse looked to Rin, who shrugged. “Ron is probably in the Slums anyway,” she whispered, bouncing from foot to foot. Jesse could tell she was itching to tear away, but you couldn’t exactly rush a goddess, not when you needed her to save your friend’s life.
    When they reached the Slums, chaos greeted them.
    The ground had been torn apart by black roots that writhed and twisted. All of them were surrounded by the nameless dead, but the roots were too fast and too powerful for any of the dead to harm them—whenever a soul lunged, the roots would smack them away like flies on a countertop.
    Izanami did not so much as glance at these scenes. She wal
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Literature
PHOCT 6: Redemption, 2
    Izanami was holed up in a FLEET apartment. Despite the lackluster setting, she was dining in style—a tea service was set up in front of her, which she contemplated in silence. Jesse glanced at Rin and was surprised to see her look of concentration had returned. “Rin—”
    “Shh,” said Rin, squaring her shoulders. “Let me—let me handle this.”
    Jesse was trying to figure out how to say that he didn’t think violence was the right solution to this problem when Rin walked forward. When she entered the room, she put her hands flat on her thighs and bowed to Izanami. “Lady Izanami. May I serve you?”
    Izanami looked up, raising her eyebrows. Rin bit her lip. Then, shoulders set, she walked forward and knelt in front of the bamboo mat on the floor. She picked up a brick of tea leaves and the kettle, placing a bit of the tea leaves in an
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Literature
PHOCT R6: Redemption, 1
    Jesse turned to Rin, trying to find any scrap of a smile. “Shall we?” His voice came out weak and pathetic; he bowed, to try and disguise his complete dejection, but judging by the look on Rin’s face, it hadn’t worked.
    Rin drummed her fingers on the hilt of her sword, her eyes narrowed.
    “Rin?” said Jesse, stepping around in front of her. He didn’t recognize the expression on her face.
    “Shh!” she snapped, and for a moment he understood her again. “I’m thinking.” The expression reappeared: fierce concentration, mixed with regret and confusion.
    Jesse put his hands behind his back and waited.
    Rin began to pace. “We can’t just leave him,” she said at last. “He’s just not in his right mind now, that’s all. He’s not the man I first met
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Literature
King Vs. Vonnegut
Yeah, I write horror novels.
Go ahead, call me a hack. You’re one of the greatest writers of all time. Say what you want about my books. I can take it.
Call ‘em derivative—never mind that I revamped vampires.
Call ‘em cheap shlock—never mind that I put my whole heart and soul in every one.
Call ‘em trash, even—thousands of readers across three decades just can’t be trusted with literature, after all. What would this world come to if readers, not critics, decided the classics of the day?
I get it. I’ll just go home and sob into my fifty published novels.
Y’know. The ones fueled with faith, not cynicism.
The ones where humanity redeems itself instead of driving off a cliff with the pedal down and no brakes.
The ones that tell people they can be better instead of pointing out all the ways they’re making life worse.
Yeah, I write horror. I also write hope.
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Literature
King Vs. Adams
Let’s say we’re in a diner.
 
The table has a cracked red plastic top, and the booth is scuffed. The napkins are patterned with banty hens the color of a dying sunset, and you, Mr. Adams, are telling me why you pussied out in the series that made you famous.
 
That’s right. You cracked like my hip when the minivan hit it. You snapped like my typewriter ribbon when I wrote too fast for it to keep up. You cringed like my readers when Annie hobbles Paul in Misery.
 
You’re shaking your head. You’re saying some shit about how writing novels is hard, and you never wanted to do it, and there was so much pressure.
 
Here’s the thing, Mr. Adams. Deep Thought was wrong. Writing is life, the universe, and everything.
 
I kept writing when I had two kids, no money, and no chances. I kept writing with tissue up my nose so the blood wouldn’t fall on the paper. I kept writing when my hip was made
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Literature
PHOCT R5: 5
AJ was not surprised to see Apollo. She wasn’t happy, and she was getting angrier, but she wasn’t surprised. She wanted to think there was no way this could get any worse, but, actually, half a dozen ways were already collating in her head in order of least to most likeliest.
“Apollo,” said Thoth, turning toward the god with what might have been surprise on his face. Or maybe indifference. The bird’s head was so hard to read.
“Thoth,” said Apollo, inclining his head. The light faded, though he was still noticeably brighter than anything else around them.
“I thought you were in hiding. Or not here at all.”
Apollo shrugged. “Rumor exaggerates.” He put his hands behind his back. “I am not here to speak about me. I am here to talk to you.”
“I’m occupied,” said Thoth, sharply.
Apollo looked mildly at the scales and AJ’s and Drac’s clouds. “I see that. May I have a moment of your
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Literature
PHOCT R5: 4
The girl led them to a river that flanked the edge of the Torture Fields. The bird-headed god stood on the bank, his eyes focused on something AJ couldn’t make out. Hope ran forward, as though to get the god’s attention, but he turned sharply, his eyes focused on AJ and Drac.
“Good. You brought them.”
Before AJ could ask what that meant, the god produced a set of handheld scales. They grew until they were almost as tall as Thoth, and he produced a feather from somewhere. It was white and gleamed with light that seemed out of place in the bleak field. Thoth took a step toward them. AJ met Drac’s eyes, trying to signal that they should probably turn to leave, but then Thoth spoke again. “Alexej Novakova. Drac Thane. You have been called here for judgment.”
AJ opened her mouth to say that sounded like some serious god bullshit, but Thoth was suddenly in front of her. He touched her breastbone, and a cloud of something white and shining foll
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Literature
PHOCT Round 5 Outline WITH ENDING
Persephone goes to speak to Danny. His mind has been healing, and he has been working with the powers Hades granted him to learn to control them. Persephone tells him he will have to take her husband's place, and Danny agrees. She mentions the need to find Charon, and Danny tells her about AJ and Drac's strange powers. Persephone begins to wonder if Charon needs to be found at all when he could be replaced, too, perhaps with someone whose abilities relate to death...
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Literature
PHOCT R5: 3
Gods were hard to find.
Of course they are. They’re important.
At least the Doctor didn’t say the rest of his thought—unlike you. But Hope felt it. She refused to flinch or even acknowledge the thought for more than a moment.
“He’s here,” she said, pretending to be speaking to herself even though the Doctor was chuckling darkly in the back of her mind. “Eris knew how to find him. He’s here.”
Hope reached the bank of the River Lethe. Standing with his back turned to her was a man with the head of a bird.
I told you, she thought, and received nothing but indifference in reply. “E-excuse me.” Her voice came out as a squeak. “Are you… Thoth?”
“The last I knew, I was,” said the god softly, as though he were hardly aware of her presence. “But apparently it has been some time since I knew anything about myself.”
Hope was not sure what to make of that.
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Mature content
Vibrator's Lament :iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 23 38
Literature
I Have Always Loved Winter
I have always loved winter
With its caressing touch of icy-bright fingers
That stroke past my flesh with a tingle that lingers
A crystalline splinter
I have always loved winter
She was constantly cold
Her skin was of porcelain, her hands were of snow
And timidly soft into my hands they’d go
But her lips were more bold
She was constantly cold
Like embers her kisses
That latched onto mine like a coal hotly dropping
Down fast onto ice sheets without sign of stopping
And sputters and hisses
Like embers her kisses
But I liked the cold best
That bit of her most like a clear, frozen shard
And it pleased me to see her grow pallid and hard
More than the rest
I liked the cold best
And hard she did grow
When the winter’s invidious, envious chill
Slipped into her heart and set out to kill
That angel of snow
And hard she did grow
I crept into her tomb
Before they could padlock and shut the door fast
I crawled quietly in for a parting look last
At her in her room
I crept into her tomb
They
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Journal
Daily Literature Deviations for December 4th, 2012
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SkysongMA

Artist | Student | Literature
United States
I write. And write. And that's pretty much all you need to know about me. :heart:

:iconpersistent-practice:
Interests
Yep, it'll be noisy around here again.

I don't know why both my Flash Fiction Month projects involve people with gender-related issues and suicide. Also gay ladies. I guess it is just my thing. 

In other news, my group is a year old now! :iconpersistent-practice:

ETA: The lovely, the perfect, the wonderful :iconrobinrone: is doing another Kickstarter for her comic Ley Lines! Please, if you haven't, take a look at the comic. It is funny, touching, and epic at turns, and you will not regret it. 

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:iconhypermagical:
hypermagical Featured By Owner Jun 17, 2016
Miss seeing you around. Sad dummy 
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:iconlesieur:
LeSieur Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2015
I know it's been forever and a half. Life; and all of that, sadly. But I wish you a happy birthday, friend of old.
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:icontamamakitty:
Tamamakitty Featured By Owner Mar 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
I love your icon sooo much! It is adorable!
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:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2014   Writer
Happy birthday. <3
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:iconjadestarxl:
JadestarXL Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Happy bworfday
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:iconwilliamfdevault:
williamfdevault Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2014  Professional Writer
Happiest of birthdays!!  :blackrose:
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:iconsadisticicecream:
SadisticIceCream Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2014   Writer
Happy happy birthday! :tighthug: :party:
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:iconsammur-amat:
Sammur-amat Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2014   General Artist
happy happy birthday! may you be blessed with unlimited cake! :glomp:
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:iconraspil:
raspil Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2014   Writer
happy birthday! :cake:
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:iconhaileyanimefreak:
haileyanimefreak Featured By Owner Oct 6, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the llama!! ^~^
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