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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
Forgotten Realms Ch.3 and 4"Ok Tao present," Kiva said after setting tags on her bedroom windows, "Muk present. And…"
"And who? Didn't Pruwx only gave us two spirit tags?" Stella asked, sitting cross-legged on Kiva's bed.
"She mailed me another. This is a Giniw, a War Eagle. His name is Dezmond," Kiva said hanging the last tag in the window.
"He's sitting on Tao's head!" Stella laughed, getting a quick mind flash image of the guardian spirits.
Kiva smiled and said, "Ain't ya thankful they can shrink? Otherwise my room would be packed!"
Stella smiled and nodded, glancing around Kiva's small cluttered room.
Kiva joined her on the bed, sitting across from her with the book between them. The guardians formed a circle. Dezmond decided to perch on Kiva's shoulder; Tao settled next to Stella.
Kiva motioned for Stella to take her hands then began muttering under her breath, letting Dezmond tell her what to say seeing as he was the wisest of the guardians.
It was mainly in Ojibway so she had no clue what she was s
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
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
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More