She hasn't a webpage no, shes always pretty conservative with showing her work. I do have this that she painted for my 16th

Unfortunatly all the other origional stuff Ive got from her is packed away at the minute. Shes amazing with ink too and shes a fan of drawing with a black pen. Ive got loads of her doodles and stuff. When i get them back out ill have to scan a few in.

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ooO Sig by me, The little green pea Ooo

Yes, the black pen..I'm terrible with pens. But black are the best.^^(he he he..)

The Incompetence of Language...
I have searched through my mind and through the pages,
Yet there is no word worthy
To tell what is in my heart—
It is impossible.

Lúthien Tinúviel...
The moonlit sky revealed her eyes so bright;
The morning star and evening star delight.
So lavishly adorned was her raiment
That all those who saw it forgot lament.
Her hair as fair and dark as night could be
Flowed in her dance of merriment and glee.
A voice as sweet as nightingales above,
She sang a song of beauty for her love.

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"Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!" -Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775.

Those are good OnYourMark. The first one is very clever.

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Let's see:
Tears Ch.??unknown yet)
Book:The Individual Footsteps(or Shadow)

For years, I've been searching.
Restless, I sleep, but am also not awake. My eyes are shut and I am no longer alive or in the real world. No, this world was different and I was being forced through the portal to it by Roselia. I cried, it hurt.
She tore my soul out, mentally, and placed it to this dimension. Physically, it drained all my strength and nearly killed me, which she would of been happy about. Especially if it was her own self doing this. Didn't it pain her own soul to do this? Wouldn't a mortal be killed by this force?
Or was she a mortal? She never seemed it. And she was a greedy child too. Forcing me to do this.
"Get through, you dimwit! We haven't got time to wally gag." she snapped.
My eyes shone tears of snow, sticking to the invisible wall.
"It pains me dearly, my sweet, but it'll kill me if I do this." I said, yelling.
"Don't you 'my sweet' me, Master Thyme. You're coming through this portal. And don't you think of dying on my watch, at least, not until we're in the other realm. Awaiting your execution." My, a child of many words, I thought. I paid little attention to her worthless whining.
I really wish I'd of died, but I forgot about Edna and Lesley.
"Get the hell through!" she snapped.
Eventually, after I did, I fell to the ground out of breath. "No need to get violent, my sweet."
"Oh, shut it, Master Thyme!" My, how mad she got with my taunting.
We walked through the misty lands of Imagination. It seemed like it was back in the beginning. Perhaps, these were my memories.
I looked at the purple grass. It was covered with crystalized tears. This WAS my dream.
---NOT DONE YET--

Post last edited by foreignfilmfreak on 03.27.2007, 04:56 PM.

Between them there was nothing, nothing but her arched back and her risen stomach and her aching singing chest and her thrown back arms. And she was no longer flesh and muscle but made up of colours, she became the rainbow, the bright arch between sun and rain, she became the storm, the lightning and the thunder, she became the flower that blossomed in the forest and the bright moons that sailed together across the dark. She became the sunrise and the sunset, the deep lake at dawn and the roaring of tumbling streams. She became the fog rolling over morning’s river and the laughter of children. She became the stars dancing on the carpet of the night. She became the high mountains and the restless sea, she became fields of golden corn and the endless blue of the sky. She became the crying of new born lambs and the scream of the curlew. She became everything – all of life, life beginning and rolling on - and at the same time nothing - a single instant of time, a drop of rain. She became at that final moment just a scream, just a cry, a pure sound that went on and out and into the night.

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Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

Post last edited by Saddletank on 03.29.2007, 10:16 AM.

quote:

---

Originally posted by OnYourMark
Lúthien Tinúviel...
The moonlit sky revealed her eyes so bright;
The morning star and evening star delight.
So lavishly adorned was her raiment
That all those who saw it forgot lament.
Her hair as fair and dark as night could be
Flowed in her dance of merriment and glee.
A voice as sweet as nightingales above,
She sang a song of beauty for her love.

---

Yes. I pre-ordered it in January. lol... Every day I think about the date April 17th. I even have automated emails which are going to come to me three days and one day before it comes out--so I don't forget.

Does that make me a geek?

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"Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!" -Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775.

Naw, I do that for lots of stuff I'm excited about and nobody ever calls me a geek.

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Music is like candy, enjoy the good stuff and throw away the rappers.

Once upon a time, the world was a mirror. And all the people of the world looked upon this mirror, and within it they saw perfection.

But every one wanted to take perfection for themselves. So they quarrelled, and they fought. Every shouting voice became so loud that soon the mirror shattered. Broken pieces fell, and landed, and became children.

There was weeping and wailing when people saw the jagged pieces, until finally one looked upon the world and said, "See? Look at these jagged pieces of perfection. Look at the shapes you have created - every one as different as a snow flake. These children. Can't you see that they are beautiful?"

____

(Call the above a rough draft of something I'm wanting to work upon.)

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Asobou ja nai ka?

Itsudemo dareka ga
Kitto soba ni iru
Omoi dashite wo kure
Suteki na sono na no

Very nice LT, very spiritual. Reminds me a lot of Rudyard Kipling's "Just So" stories.

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Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

I'm writing too many stories at once..
First, due to popularness, I'm writing a short story on my cross dressing legend.
Then, my all-French story.
Six other stories, and one children's story.
And yet, no vampires? That's not like me..
I'll add him in my French one..^^*she makes up many different male characters, but has trouble making female*

In this chapter of my story, Pazu has just smoked, for the first time, a rather unusual communal pipe:

He opened his eyes. He was taller, at least six inches, taller than anyone in the room. And stronger. If any of those mutterers wanted to argue with Thoma, he’d help the inn keeper by throwing them through the windows, two at a time, one in each hand. He was strong, tall, light and could rule the world.

He turned. Thoma looked at him, one eyebrow raised and a look of slight surprise and concern on his face. He was saying something but, quite frankly, Pazu didn’t care. He didn’t hear him. He wouldn’t care if Thoma put his hands either side of Pazu’s face and kissed him full on the lips. Pazu thought Thoma was one of the most handsome men he’d ever seen. A strange thought went through his mind.

am I a girl? if I am I’ll kiss him

Without having to lift his feet or use any muscles, as though by magic, Pazu floated away from Thoma, past the sitting and kneeling guests back towards the space to the left of the bar where their bags were.

bags? did we once have bags? why? how stupid bags are. what an idiotic invention. and anyway, who is ‘we’, is there two of me?

His hand was outstretched and someone was holding it. Their hand was soft, like a cloud and warm, like the feel of the summer sun on his skin. And as they moved and he watched the back of this person some lines of poetry came into his head, which seemed a little strange since he’d never written a line of poetry in his entire life.

He looked at the people he was floating past, many were standing up and doing something odd with their hands, making them swell up bigger and go smaller again. They were moving them as though clapping but they couldn’t be clapping because there was no sound, all they did was put them together make them big, bigger than their heads (and they were quite big too, their wide eyes and huge smiling mouths especially) then move them apart and they went smaller again, big, small, big, small, like lungs breathing.

He moved his head to concentrate on the person who held his hand. Was it a girl or a boy? Poetry person.

dancing, you are dancing, you are each note
I chase you and you fly, you are each sky
we are two clouds, I flow with you
you are the wind, and we are love
we are forever, higher than the snow

He hoped she was a girl, because his poem was about love, but to be honest, if poetry person with the beautiful long hair of flying reddish soil was a boy, that wouldn’t be bad either.

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Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

Post last edited by Saddletank on 04.06.2007, 11:42 AM.

Saddle, for some reason, I had no reaction. I just laughed.
I think the cross dressing thing is getting to my head.
Thanks to that, I thought up an awkward story.

Good reaction. I'm pleased. It is meant to be weird. The guy is as high as a kite for the first time in his life. This can be very disconcerting and even frightening, so I just went for funny as a sense of the thing. Everyone he looks at, man and woman, girl and boy, seems beautiful to him and he's suddenly in love with them all.

It's a pretty odd chapter all round, in fact. Trying my hand at something new.

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Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

heres a quick doodle and edit on PS didnt take too long but it's been a while since i last used ink on a pictures to make it stand otu abit more instead of just pencil... may go on my deviant account but don't know just yet ^^

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www.mpw3d.deviantart.com

quote:

---

Originally posted by aviator
OK I've never written poems in my life, so I'll take advantage of the "art" portion of this thread. Here's a picture I drew a long time ago (sorry, not very good at drawing people either):

---

What do you meen that drawing is an awsome dude!!!!!!

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Check out my music:

quote:

---

Originally posted by Lilgreenpea
She hasn't a webpage no, shes always pretty conservative with showing her work. I do have this that she painted for my 16th

Unfortunatly all the other origional stuff Ive got from her is packed away at the minute. Shes amazing with ink too and shes a fan of drawing with a black pen. Ive got loads of her doodles and stuff. When i get them back out ill have to scan a few in.

---

WHO IS SHE?

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Check out my music:

if anyone would want this then they can have it...

its just a zelda sig i made 2day but i don't want it lol ^^ so its free to anyone

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www.mpw3d.deviantart.com

It was later when Sheeta heard it. At the back of the wagon, a little distant from the clopping horse hooves and the intermittent chatter of the two men, and shielded from the fallout of their casual conversation by the mound of hay, she heard it. At first her mind was focused on her sewing, and it came to her from the edge of her senses, in the same way the birdsong occasionally intruded or the smell of cut grass in the silage fields beyond the hedges from time to time came to her. They passed over a stream where the water chuckled and squealing children jumped to the mill pool below. The laughter of their innocent voices, carefree in the dying days of summer, mingled with the splashes of their white bodies in the clear water. She had stopped working to lean over the wagon rail and watch them and to wave back at their cheeky insolent greetings. As these happy sounds faded and she sat back against the yellow wall at her back, she heard it. It reminded her of summer thunder, distant and harmless, a storm for someone else to endure. But summer thunder would roll over the hills and vales and be gone, mysterious and forgotten. This thunder however went on, it rumbled faintly and persisted, now growing, now lessening as the breeze picked it up or lay it aside. Swelling and falling like waves in a storm, she considered it and what it might mean. It never quite went away, but hung there low down on the edge of hearing. She puzzled over it for a time.

“Pazu.”
“Yes.”
“Can you ear that?”
“What?”
“That rumbling. Like thunder.”
“No.”
“Stop the wagon.”

Hamar pulled on Morris’ traces.

“Ho there boy, hold up.”

The crunching of the heavy iron tyres in the grit of the road was stilled. High overhead, in the impossible height of its own song, a lark wheeled and cried. It swooped and went on its screaming, laughing way. Screaming and laughing at the world of men below. And the sound that replaced it was a sound Sheeta hated, it was a sound she had heard before, too recently and as well as being heard in the ear she could feel it through the soil, through the rock of the land, the grit of the road and the iron and wood of the wagon. Even through the flesh and bone of her own body she could feel it.

The sound of men dying.

“Hey, what is it?”
“Explosions,” Sheeta supplied, “Big guns. A long way away.”

Pazu stood up, he climbed onto the mound of hay and looked to the north, his eyes shaded by an eager hand although he could see nothing but fields and farms and sky. He glanced at Sheeta. She wasn’t looking. She didn’t want to see. She sat, huddled on the floor of the wagon, looking back at the mill pond they had just passed. She wanted time to stop and for them to turn around. If Hamar would turn the wagon round and go back, and pass the playing children, perhaps time would reverse with them and the further south they went, so time would wind backwards. Guns wouldn’t shoot, men wouldn’t die, politicians wouldn’t argue and even crazy men wouldn’t steal crystals and she and Pazu could go back in time to the Ravine and she would awake in his hut and hear his trumpet playing. And just be with him.

But Sheeta knew this was a hopeless hope, a mere game she played in her heart. Like the children in the mill pond, soon such games would be over and war would show them its murderous face. No playing now children, this was serious stuff. There was no stopping it. Once men decided to fight, they enjoyed it. They relished it, she knew this from stories she had heard from the elder men in her village. She knew it too from the look on a crazy man’s face as he’d spoken words that had opened the floor of Laputa and murdered hundreds with a gleeful deranged smile. Men were not crazy to love this, they just had to be exposed to it enough, and it became normal.

I just want to be left alone. to live in peace, have children, see my children have children, and die. no one can ask for more, or deserve less.

She had no idea when she would live in peace. Maybe she never would. Perhaps she and Pazu were destined to never rest, to always be running from crazy men, men with a lust for power or a lust for killing. She let her gaze fall from the children on the bridge.

“Go home now children. Time for tea. Playtime is over.”

She hung her head and a wave of depression took away summer’s sun and replaced it with a darkness that was colder than even winter.

__________________
Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)