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Mixed Messages :icontiktoxic:TikToxic 0 0
Literature
The Alchemist and the Guardian
A truce, if you will.
A quiet word.
We've played our game of skill
For years, my friend
Centuries.
The duality of man, defined,
An eternal dance.
Picture me, refined (if you will)
Offering a hand (uncloaked, no dagger, not this time).
I am tired, old man
Not of existence, no
I could never tire of that.
Of war, our dance, of...this.
So...a truce.
A break.
An uneasy silence.
Quiet the guns, lower the swords,
Let's simply be, for a while.
I am quiet, this time.
We are balanced, I wish to remain so...
I wish to taste life.
Just this once.
Find out what the fuss is about.
You should too.
A truce, then...
I'll drink to that.
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Literature
Sick and Tired
Tired of walking these streets
In a city with no name
Tired of boarded-up memories
Signs saying who's to blame
Sick of lawns of needles
Every crack laced with weeds
sick of stains on street corners
Pay me anything, let me please
Chainlink rot and metal
No trespassing this way
Gritty shadows and swinging gates
The sun didn't rise today
Sick of Anger Park and Hanging Tree
Tired of Sleepless Heights
I know this city too well now
Wander it alone most nights
Tired of walking these streets
In a place with no tone
Tonight I throw away the map
And try to make my head
My home.
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Literature
Darkness
I was once filled with light, just as you are
Once walked in its warmth, believed in its love
And I was selfish and blind, thinking it would last...
Now I walk in darkness. The light shuns me, it burns me
Those who still love it turn my darkness, call me betrayer
And yet I still walk my path. Darkness is another light
I used to serve, I use this to serve, to aid
I can no longer heal, but I can save and protect
Now...
My heart may no longer beat; I may not dance the same tunes
Nor see the same colours as you
My path is always blind, I have no torches, no light touches here
But I stand with my sword in my hand for you
I hold my pain and my darkness - for you
I hunt what would destroy me - for you
But should you stand in my path
Should you turn me from my duty, my way
Should you block me
Rest assured I will pull you down from your high horse
Drag you into the darkness, listen to your scream with uncaring ears
Smile at your suffering, because it slows my own
Tear you down until you beg for
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Literature
Madness
So here I stand
Thoughts in my head and a knife in my hand
So here I pray
Please dear God, make this all go away
And here I watch
As I wait and carve myself another notch
And there I kneel
And pray and wait and never heal
And there's the wall
Run and hit and pray it falls
But here's the door
Locked and barred; to open never more
So here, my face
A mask; a fake, a shattered case
And here, my dream
Broken and bent, a cold silent scream
And in my madness, I am become a poet...
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Literature
Paper Cut
Line goes across the skin
Needy pain drawn from within
Patterns danced over blade
Notes of melody that won't fade
Flesh torn and red-run
Frantic now I've begun
Grip on phantom glass thrown
Shattered; scattered; blood unknown
Pain raw on show to see
Scars they outline, define me
Black on grey on red on skin
On blade...on paper, on white so thin
Unreal, but real, less harm but more
Skin on colour too cold to ignore
Blade a pen a skill - but a tool
An outlet for blood, for words-
For a fool
Cuts on paper with ink, not blood
This time, this time...I'll hold the flood.
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Literature
Wish
I wish to feel the chains again
Cold rusted iron on wounded skin
I wish to feel the pain again
To beg old nightmares please begin
I wish to feel the blade once more
Warm cradled life in cold shaking hand
I wish to taste the fear once more
The only thing now I understand
I want to feel the breaks again
Finger cracks in hidden walls
I want to hide away again
Run and be alone once more
I wanted to put these mirrors down
Push them into the light for you
Reflect and refract my true face
Wanted you to see what I do
Reflections are all muddied now
Cold, smeared, seeing through
Cracks and shivers, iced up, grey
The rest is up to you.
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:icontiktoxic:TikToxic 6 1
Literature
Way Back When [2]
Now...where was I...
Right. Well, after a few brushes with unpleasentness, I ended up skipping Ireland to England at the worst possible time. See, the English throne back then tended to change hands pretty often, and pretty messily too. I didn't know what was happening, being in Ireland and being all Celtish at the time, but I do know the Saxons and Danes were having issues with the Vikings and the Normans. Politics, back then, usually meant axes, and a lot of them. Looking back on it, I was lucky to have seen what I did - turned out I hit England about the same time one William the Conquerer did.
...Fod god's sake, Law, that's prime whiskey you wasted! If you're gonna keep dropping it like that I'm not giving you any more. Yes, I was around for 1066 - I was in the bloody losing army and all, got rounded up like the rest of them. God above that was terrifying. Needless to say I didn't stick around after that - I did not want to be around when William rounded up the opposition, as it we
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Literature
Never Forget You
Fianna paused, hand on the door of the room he hadn't set foot in since...well, since the day his world had ended and his family had shattered. He had the key in a hand, it fit into the lock, but he didn't turn it, not yet.
If he closed his eyes, if he stayed still, he could still hear the careful notes. Lorn hadn't sung since then, and to his knowledge, Veus hadn't touched another piano. The room had been locked up, forgotten, all the pain and loss pushed into it.
All the innocence, before the world had turned to ash by the actions of one man.
They'd all mourned, in their own ways. Fianna had fallen apart, piece by piece, even now the cracks showing where the pieces no longer quite fit together. The man took a deep breath, the key turning in the lock, the door opening into the dark room, clicking shut behind him.
He paused, just taking in the stale darkness for a moment. It was late, the curtains drawn, but still a thin slice of light was laying over the table where her picture stood,
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Literature
Way Back When [1]
Right where it all began, huh? See, I wasn't lying, that's a hell of a way back. You know how old I am, Veus? Oh, it's easy to say the words, right enough, it's just a number to you. But sit and think about it...you run a museum, you like your history, you tell me just a few of the things that happened in the last thousand years.
Yeah, there you go, you're going white. Drink some of your whiskey, pup, it'll make you feel better.
So...the beginning. Heh. Way back when, I was born - you're recording this, aren't you? Oh for - fine, but I swear, I see this in the Times Best Seller-
Fine, fine. Anyway, I was born back in Ireland, Galway area, to be exact. Back then, we weren't much more than a few loosely-related clans that fought, intermarried, fought again and got drunk with. There were no cities - hell, no big towns either, the 'London' of the day was maybe the size of a small town...we didn't suit staying in one area.
Lessee...I was named Aodhfionn MacDuibh, though I got the nickname M
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Literature
Way Back When [Prologue]
Fianna kicked back, boots up on the desk, arms folded behind his head, eyes half-closed as smoke from the rollup in his mouth curled around his head. His expression was pensive, half-vague as he pondered, a booted foot tapping gently.
"How it all began, eh? That's a helluva question, kid." He looked across the desk to his son, slouched in a comfortable seat. Law gave his usual, lazy half-hearted shrug. "Hell, that's goin' back nearly a thousan' years. What makes y' think I can remember that far back?"
"Because you're you, Dad." Law pointed out. "You're the sort of person who writes everything down, just in case. Remember I've seen your library, and I know at least one set of shelves is written by you."
Fianna chuckled, taking the fag out of his mouth, eyes going to the ceiling of his Victorian study. "Trus' me to have an over-intelligen' son."
"I get it off you, Dad."
"Don't flatter me'n get the good whiskey."
Law did as he was told, for once not pointing out that his father shouldn't
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Critiques


Usually I'm not one for surrealism, much as I like it, but this caught my eye. You can see its origins as a doodle, and it's charming, ...

Activity


deviantID

TikToxic
Christian
Artist | Hobbyist | Digital Art
United Kingdom
Bad-tempered, irritable transguy who likes to draw half-naked (and sometimes completely naked) guys. RPs a lot, cosplays a bit, plays far too many computer games and is a WoWhead. Tends to like explosions and 'gleeping' which is making cute noises and bouncing in my chair, mostly.

I suffer from severe ME and due to that have been forced to slow down a little, but I'm still a hyper shit that can and will talk for hours about whatever I'm fixated on at the time.

Listens to everything from dance, dubstep to metal and pure classical and EVERYTHING in between. If it make me happy, I listen to it, regardless of genre.
Interests
  • Listening to: Today We Are All Demons|| Combichrist
  • Playing: Warcraft
Hey guys, my apologies for not journaling much. Hope everyone had an awesome new year and christmas/whatever you celebrate! I sure as hell did, thanks to some things coming through ^^ I'm now fully registered disabled and an actual graphic designer now!

But...I have a bit of an announcement to make.

I'm pulling all my artworks off dA. I don't update here much any more, and I use it to basically snoop pretty pictures and references. I've been on dA now for...gods, years, honestly, in one form or another. To sound hipsterish, I was on dA before it exploded into the monster it is now.

I call it a monster because that's what it is. Did you know dA officially owns every piece of artwork on this site - and as such, can sell it to third-party companies? And they will do nothing about art theft? I've been thinking about this and other things, and really, I don't want to be a part of a site like this. Somewhere along the way, dA's stopped being a site for the betterment of art and started being a moneymaker, and while I agree that it's a business and therefore it comes with the territory, I don't agree with some of the practices.

So I'm removing my art - not putting it into storage, taking it off fully as I do not want any part of my art used by dA. Sometimes, you have to realise what you stand for and actually do it. 

I'll be keeping my account active, mostly to look at pretties, but there won't be any more art on here. If you want my art (and you do, it's getting awesome I swear) you can find it here

Thanks for the memories, dA.

Wishlist

Palace garden in Kyoto, Japan, Bic Ballpoint Pen by VianaArts Palace garden in Kyoto, Japan, Bic Ballpoint Pen :iconvianaarts:VianaArts 4,088 874 Hailin by Steyn82 Hailin :iconsteyn82:Steyn82 3 17 Clockfaces by Velouriah Clockfaces :iconvelouriah:Velouriah 9 1 Insidious Discrepancy by alexiuss Insidious Discrepancy :iconalexiuss:alexiuss 13,356 948 Neurotic Indisposition by alexiuss Neurotic Indisposition :iconalexiuss:alexiuss 36,974 2,721

Comments


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:iconmrwolfhare:
MrWolfHare Featured By Owner Jul 16, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
ohnoes, you found me! D:
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:icontiktoxic:
TikToxic Featured By Owner Jul 16, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Mwahahahahaha.
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:iconmellifera90:
Mellifera90 Featured By Owner Aug 12, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Mooooh :)
Reply
:icontiktoxic:
TikToxic Featured By Owner Aug 12, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
OHAI!!! *hugs* You found me!!

...Oh crap you found me!! *tries to hide all the porn* XD 
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