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Fire Dancer Chapter 1
WHOOSH! The thud a hunter learns to recognize sounded as an arrow pierced flesh. A sickly doe, weakened by the merciless winter, fell to the ground amid the fog. Beads of water still dripped from the guard hairs under her chin, now forgotten as her breathing slowed. Something moved into her fading field of vision, causing her to roll her eyes to see. Before she could draw another hitching breath, the face of a young elf youth appeared.
“I am sorry, gentle Aras (deer),” she said softly, looking into her glazing brown eyes, “Forgive me, so your spirit may pass without delay.”
The elf waited until the light left her eyes, then stood and retrieved her arrow from the animal’s chest. It took her only half an hour to clean the meat. Another ten to bundle it in the hide and sling it over her shoulder. Pivoting on her heel, she scanned the area but saw nothing. Her amethyst eyes sensed no movement through the thick mist. Yet her ears twitched; waiting for th
The Spirit of a StarA girl's attention was caught by the sound of the large village gates creaking open, then closing again. She looked to be 12 years old, when really she was 16. The teen had dark brown hair that hung to the middle of her back, with eyes only a shade lighter. Her thin frame gave the illusion of fragility, yet she was as strong as any other Jonin in the village. Her endurance was that of the wolf when she went out on the trail. Her outfit consisted of a simple lightly tanned sundress, black flip-flops, and a dark gray pouch. The pouch hung around her neck from a sinew cord. Obviously, she was of native descent. A blonde haired boy waved as soon as he saw her. "Hey Naruto; you hungry?" she called. "As long as we have ramen!" the boy grinned. She rolled her eyes as they walked to a nearby noodle shop. While they ate, the girl told the boy named Naruto about her mission assigned for the next morning. It was her fifth year as a Jonin; naturally, the mission was long term. “W
Stellara Nagareboshi ProfileName: Stellara Nagareboshi
Village: Hidden Leaf
Weight: 77 lbs
Rank: ANBU trainee
Hair: Coffee brown, occasionally streaked with random colors
Nationality: Half German, half Native American
Branch: Keewaunee Bay
Pets: Abyssinian cat, Waabiishkaa. Siamese twins, both male, Sakima and Namid. One female Dachshund, Twiggy. One male Dachshund, Carmal.
Clothing: A buckskin shirt with removable sleeves and deep blue flower patterns up on the shoulders. Black cotton leggings with matching flowers are worn in cold weather. Makazins(tribal spelling of the word ) are lined inside with snowshoe hare fur, outside are decorated in red, orange, yellow, and black beads. Wears a coyote skin medicine pouch like a necklace. Contains medicine stone, glass beads, and a piece of carved white quartz. It is shaped like a bear-crafted by her grandfather before he died.
Personality: Racial slurs against her make her cold-hearted
What Have I Done? I don't understand
What I did wrong
I used to have so many people
And now they're gone
Was it something I did?
Or something I said?
I take it back...
Just don't leave
Forgotten Realms Ch.6 and 7"I kill ju."
"Ji, with what?" Kiva asked, grinning broadly now that Wain had finally given in and agreed to play a round of the game. He and Stella were walking home with her that day.
Wain thought for a second, then grinned wickedly and said, "Orochimaru."
Stella broke up laughing.
"Ewww! Not the snake bastard!" Kiva squeaked shuddering.
Wain laughed and said, "What? Don't like snakes hmm?"
"No…" Kiva whined, laughing weakly at her own fear, "And you hush!"
"Owwie! What'd I do!?" she yelped.
"Pissed me off," Kiva laughed, "You know I've hated snakes ever since…" She trailed off, looking about with a confused look on her face.
"Ever since what hmm?" Wain prodded.
Kiva looked at him and her confused look deepened. She looked to Stella and shook her head.
"I…I think I was almost s-strangled and bitten by… Mando a while ago…" she stuttered.
"You were hmm?" Wain asked in surprise.
"Wait…you were bitten remember?
Forgotten Realms Ch.5"I still feel horrible," Stella grumbled as Kiva's mom drove them to school.
Kiva nodded but didn't say anything.
"My throat is dry as hell’s eighth circle," she thought.
"At least today will distract us," Stella shrugged.
"Yeah," Kiva agreed
That day was the second day of homecoming week with the theme being movie or TV day. You could dress up like any character you wanted…as long as it wasn't racy, risqué, or skimpy.
Kiva was in a black trench coat with a black duck-tape girdle wrapped tightly around her middle. She also had on white face paint with tragedy spikes over her blacked out eyes and downward angled cracks along her lips. It looked like she was frowning if she kept a straight face. Eric Draven from Brandon Lee's The Crow.
Stella, on the other hand, had high collared black robes and a home woven Chinese style hat. An Akatsuki member from the show Naruto.
"I can't wait to see what everyone else is doing," Kiva chuckled.
Stella nodded a
Forgiveness takes twoThe words are struggling
to tumble off my tongue,
and despite having
a fleshy cushion
to rest on,
they stain my teeth
and sting like acid
"I'm sorry," I stutter,
but the bitter taste
doesn't leave my tongue-
not because the words weren't true,
but because I know
I won't hear,
Mommy Is A Super HeroMommy Is A Super Hero
Standing before his class, he held his tiny report,
“Who is your super hero?” Was written in yellow chalk on the green board.
Exhaling his breath, the curly haired boy closed his little eyes,
“Don't be ashamed of yourself” His mother's words rung in his ears, “And don't ever cry.”
He began to read aloud, with a shaky voice.
to his class, he told his mother's story.
At age fifteen, she was a beauty queen,
the most beautiful girl in all of the world.
She flaunted her silky hair, bore her bare legs,
prided her breast. The boys treated her like she was a treasure chest.
They respected her rules, they “looked, but didn't touch”,
but there was one older man, who from her, wanted too much.
All alone he met her, he approached her in the alley,
and all his mother told him, was that this man had treated her badly.
But what the boy didn't know was that she was taken against her will,
and that two months later, she turned up ext
She's an artistShe's an artist.
Always seems to be daydreaming,
She draws to escape her pain.
Cause for a single moment,
When her work is done.
It seems like there is no more rain.
And she could finally touch the sun.
The one that shines so brightly in her paintings.
But then it's gone,
So she keeps drawing,
She's become good at escaping.
Running from reality.
Because dreams are the only things she wants,
Her imagination is the only thing she's ever known.
And it's sad really...
Because she tries so hard to be happy.
But the most beautiful thing she could ever create.
Was that smile upon her face,
And that is the one thing that remains blank.
Waiting to someday be something more than,
cenotaph of stormsthe first thunderstorm
was triggered by a blunt pair
of scissors, sparking violently
against the lightning,
shaking in the wind.
the downpour pierced,
tattooed with no ink but
the dark bleakness
of an overcast morning,
infiltrating uniformed wrists.
hid behind the music block,
shaky raindrops rioting
fears, she fractured.
the second storm
wept a two year downpour
outline that dripped from wrist
to hip, sidelong silhouette glances
obscured by the rain.
stalictidal waves shuddered
frozen, until icy glass
fell in stained shards from
the stillness inside.
thinner, brittler, growing
in flurries of sleet and hail,
her outline was never filled,
though the floods threatened
the third thunderstorm
was a mist-ridden melancholia,
a dream for permanence
smeared in ink through
fueled by the hope
that just this once,
the rain would spark a
rebirth beneath the ground.
instead, a tsunami
washed away the ink
as tides so often do.
Still HereSuicide is a
Thought that frequently lurks
In my mind, wich
Lets it overcome the
Laughter and happiness
Here I still fight, however
Enduring this sad life
Reviving my hopes
Embracing the gift of life
Ideationlocked in a room
with only one escape,
or so it seems.
your hands shake and you drop the key.
Suddenly you're unsure.
Do I want to pick it up?
Do I want to find it?
Do I want to leave?
you think to yourself
there's no other choice.
find the key or corrode, or rust
wear down the hinge
use sadness as the key.
You have the answer now.
Just open the door.
Just walk outside and don't look back.
Let yourself leave with no regrets.
And yet you can't.
You're afraid, you think,
but you are actually strong.
Don't run away.
Don't take that leap.
my bedspread is white and so is my coffin.i can feel
the night closing
the stars are breaking
empty glass bottles
inside of my
mouth, and they taste like
ambien. bitter, then
but you still can't close your fucking eyes
little blue pills for
eyes– it was winter and i
dreams of nothing more than
nothing. the devil
tied chains around all the
vessels in my
body. laughed, and by god i
laughed too (and laughedandlaughedandlaughed).
this will all be over soon i swear i will take everything off your skin and bones and burn it up
and then january took the world
in it's grip and i
drowned in the snow that
will never hydrate the
can you hear that it's the night and it's so beautiful so come here darling and we'll watch the sun rise and set and rise and
smotherher spine was dusk
and unmade nests,
but he tried to live there
he was neither nocturnal
nor a dawn-believer,
so he suffocated
in the birdhouse of her ribs.
WeakI pride myself
on being strong
"I'm over him...
for good this time."
He pops back
into my life
Even a dream
Can send me spiraling
And I realize
How weak he makes me
My heart beats like a drum,
my mind buzzes
He lingers more than smoke
And I breathe him in
But forget to exhale
Then he fades...
and I'm me again
Until I think
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More