But Sam lay back, and stared with open mouth, and for a moment, between bewilderment and great joy, he could not answer. At last he gasped: "Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What's happened to the world?"
Step, step, step.
Ienzo's eyes flickered away from the novel to stare curiously at the door as the heavy sound broke his spelled reverie. Apparently someone was walking down the hallway, which was an uninteresting piece of news in itself, although these footsteps were not Angela's quaint, butterfly heels but powerful, confident ones. The boy tilted his head, sti
He hated the smell of hospitals.
The too-clean scent practically burned his nose, and the alcohol smell didn't help with the sting, either. It was unnaturally clean.
So all in all, when Ienzo woke up, the first sense to come into "consciousness" was his sense of smell.
His mind had slowly started to wake at first. It felt like a thick fog was coating his brain, blurring and deleting all rational thoughts and instead replacing them with confused and hazy fragments his emotions mirrored his mind. Tired, befuddled.
He hadn't even attempted to open his eyes yet. In all honesty, he didn't really want to, or hadn't even thought about doi
Ienzo awoke to the smell of smoke.
He had been dreaming in a deep sleep when his scent was marred with the acrid smell. The intensity of it was so strong, the boy immediately awoke, inhaling deeply only to erupt in racking coughs as even more smoke stifled into his lungs.
He was too tired to make sense of the situation, his mind muddled and confused as he squinted his watering eyes to protect them from the sensory onslaught. The scene before him was grim the entirety of his room was filled with smoke that had been snaking under the cracks of his doorway, and the thickness of the stuff was building.
Ienzo's mind sharpened imm
A warm breeze lazily swooped in from the east, filtering through the leaves of the enormous trees of the park, who themselves were finished blooming and giving off the last scents of spring. The wind tugged with warm fingers at the boy's light blue hair, making him raise a hand without thinking and shuffling the disarrayed spikes to line them back in place.
Ienzo leaned back into the smooth wooden bench more, rolling his shoulders slightly to get into a more comfortable position. He hated waiting, he really did. Most boys of his age were impatient, and the nine year old was really no exception.
Anxiously, his light blue eyes flickered left
Wow this journal is severely outdated.
Anywho, cleaned up my dA of all the ugly old art in a rage after a week of being unable to draw for my life. I don't know if this is a massive art block or just a.. lack-of-skill block. Not to mention I'm really starting to hate my style because it's way too cartoony for my liking nowadays... trying to make it more realistic. FUUUUUU
Haha well while I was messing with this damn journal skin, I accidentally deleted my old journal about my new desktop. So yes, in recap, bought a new desktop, and it's leagues better than my 6-7 year old desktop. .. Obviously.
Also got myself Photoshop Elements 8, which is AWESOME in comparison to Elements 4, again, obviously. Cleaner line art, nicer tools.. etc.
I should be taking some requests/trades here soon so keep a look out for my journal. :]
So the other day there was a huge lightning storm - oh no rain. Just lightning everywhere. I was at work, so driving home I thought it was pretty cool, with the heat lightning in the clouds. So I come home, all fine and junk, to discover my piece of crap desktop is off. Apparently we had a power surge. Okay I think, I'll just wait for thirty minutes for it to turn on (no joke). So I wait. All is good. It turns off again. I turn it back on, and am met sometime later with a white screen, then a screen with rainbow lines. And my tower smelled like it was burning.
I guess it's dun' goofed.
Meaning I don't think I'll be able to post art for