|Looking forward in seeing your artwork!|
Chenbeard the PirateChapter 1:Chenbeard the Pirate by WordOfChen
I remember waking up, with the distinct metallic taste of blood swilling about my teeth. I spat a red glob of the stuff onto the stone floor and tried very hard, through the pounding of my skull, to determine why I had been left in such a poor state of affairs. Most of my memories had been jumbled up, no doubt by the violence inflicted upon me prior to my arrival. My thoughts were a nonsensical sequence of colors and sounds--most of which made no sense. I could recall several important bits and pieces though: a voice, one that was calling out for me and a warm hand, reaching toward the distance. Was that hand mine? I wondered, as the memory faded away. How exactly had I come to arrive in this place, that alone was food for thought.
My internal rumination however was soon broken by the sound of a rusted metallic gate, screeching it's lungs out as it attempted to open the way. I could not see the whining mechanism, but I could tell that it was defin
Legacy Ch 12 [APH Mexico fic]Legacy Ch 12 [APH Mexico fic] by sailorgreywolf
Mexico stopped telling the story for a second to glance at America, who was watching him avidly. America pouted "Why did you stop? It was getting exciting". Mexico smirked back "It's going to get much more exciting, that's the most innocent part of my life". Mexico noticed that at some point he has finished his tequila and put the glass down. He suspected that after that he had started using large elaborate gestures to accompany his story, which also explained why America was sitting further away.
It dawned on him how long it had taken to tell only a little bit of his life's story. He glanced at the clock, which read 11:30; he had started telling the story at 9:30. He glanced back at America "Alfred, it's getting kind of late, are you sure you want me to keep talking?" America pouted more, being very childish, "You can't leave me hanging like that. I need to know what happens". Mexico sighed "I'm beginning to see why you never read books. You would never get any sleep". America ignored
Dark Nathan's SongA boy with an uncertain futureDark Nathan's Song by TheHellboundAtheist
Controlled by rage and hate
Isolated and condemned
He will soon realize his fate
Hate festering within him
Forming deep inside
A being of pure evil,
That will ultimately change his life
The devil within calling him
Cleanse your soul of light
Become one with me,
And I'll make you a god tonight
He gives into the demon's words
The light within turns black
Mankind will soon realize,
True evil has come back
Like a crusader of death,
He spills the blood of man
Vengeance against his own kind
Their destruction by his hand
Now the transformation is complete
His past, there is nothing left
He has become the devil he desires
Lord of this destruction and fire
Young Aro and the Sword of Ages The sun lounged atop fluffy white clouds, sailing through the sky with a more relaxed demeanor than the moon among the stars. A solitary tree, bushy of deep green leaves blew in the light gusty wind, shading the lone man who sat beneath, eyes wide shut, perfectly relaxed.Young Aro and the Sword of Ages by StevenGilby
“That’s a pretty nice description!”
Thank you, kindly, sir, but you should really wait for your time. I was about to introduce you proper.
“Oh, sorry! I’ll just shy away back under this tree and pretend to be asleep.”
No, no! This is fine. Why don’t you say hello to everyone? Tell them your name and all that good stuff. I’m sure you have a lot to say.
“Well, my name is Aro. I’m from the Grasslands, aptly named if I might add. I have six brothers and eight sisters, some of whom are adventurers, which is what I want to do! I’m almost old enough to go venturing out on my own, you
Wasteland Samurai Ch. 3 Consciousness faded in and out. A path was drawn in the sand with the body that strobed with vision. Words were mute, but the metal roared loud as they made way through the golden mess. A fit of consciousness rushed to Samuel’s head and managed to stay with him. Dizzy and pulsing with pain – made no better by his position in the back seat of a truck, head hanging over the seat – he attempted to gain a bearing. The man sitting with him in the back – dirty hair that was greasy and thick, unwashed for weeks, yellowed teeth from nonexistent upkeep and cigarettes. Brown clothes were the cleanest part of the ruffian, camouflage in the sands for recon and scouting - paid him no mind when he noticed he had awoken. Samuel was bound tight, beyond moving anything more than his toes and fingers. As the wind rushed by his ears, he felt the situation was hopeless, but refused to surrender to his own dark thoughts.Wasteland Samurai Ch. 3 by StevenGilby
At a stop, he was pushed to the floo
Legacy Ch 11 [APH Mexico fic]Legacy Ch 11 [APH Mexico fic] by sailorgreywolf
"Ouch, poor Enrique. I don't even really like the guy, and I feel sorry for him" America intoned. Mexico nodded "I was really bad with letting him down easy; I got better at that as time went on. I shouldn't have pulled that 'want to be normal' bullshit. What the fuck could I possibly know about normal?" America laughed "You have never been normal, but the one thing you have always been is good at breaking hearts. What happened next?"
Mexico responded "Well, he did what any logical person would do in that situation". America glanced at his half-empty glass of tequila thoughtfully "He found out who your fiancé was?" Mexico nodded "First he bullied Cuba into telling him who my fiancé was, then he confronted me again:
New Spain was walking around his bedroom packing the last of his stuff. It was hard to believe that such a big life could be com
Little thing called TalentLittle thing called TalentLittle thing called Talent by jane-beata
"My name is Marc, my emotional life is sensitive and my purse is empty, but they say I have talent."
In general, talent means the skill that someone has quite naturally to do something that is hard, a high degree of ability that a person was born with. It's hard to argue that some people indeed have more of an inherited talent for arts than others. They are able to get to a certain level rather quickly and get a lot of praise along the way. However, relying on talent will only last for so long, there's a point to be reached when nothing but hard work gets you through.
"Talent is so loaded a word, so full to the brim with meanings, that an artist might be wise