Creative Challenge: Post 11

Her foot slipped and she started to fall.

“‘Taaaaaaaaa-” Tori started to curse. Alarmed, Kiy spread his wings out, painfully quickly, and launched himself up to catch her. She landed in the crook of the inside of his elbow rather heavily; she’d put on weight. Again.

“No swearing,” he said exasperatedly, gently gliding back down to the ground. He set his little sister unceremoniously in the muddy snow, then went back to sitting on the damp wooden bench.

“But I was gonna fall and die,” she said pointedly.

“Clearly, you are not dead,” he said, flicking a finger and poking her with a jet of conjured air magic. She frowned at him, rubbing the place where the air hit her.

“Cleaaaaarly,’ she said, stretching out the vowels to mock him. “You are a stupid.”

He rolled his eyes and slumped onto his hand. He hated babysitting her.

She tottered around the yard a bit more. Kiy kept one eye on her at all times now, wary that she might try to fly again. It was unusual that she was having so much difficulty with it; she could already fight with wooden swords better that boys and girls twice her age, and beat him occasionally at horseshoe-tossing, but the chubby fledgling tired quickly, was unusually chubby, showed no interest in learning letters, and, most unusual of all, could not so much as glide.

He and their father had wondered, at first, if it was due to the strangeness of her wings. To be truthful, nobody had really known what to expect of a Falconian-Human child: there weren’t many precedents for such a union in the healers’ records.When she was, at first, born without wings and only down on her forearms, they had all thought the worst, that she would be flightless.

However, after crawling up over her crib and trying to leap onto the floor, the wet nurse had found, after coming to the wailing infant’s rescue, that what had been the rest of her human-like arms and hands had magically transformed into downy wings. The change was only temporary, however: the next morning they were back to normal.

But, despite this miracle of magic, little Tori, several years later, still seemed destined to be ground-bound. It was probably her weight, in all honesty: she was twice the size of either of her racial counterparts, as if being a hybrid had meant that she would also need to be the sum of both parts in weight as well.

A shriek brought him out of his musings. His mind and eyes had wandered, and there his little sister lay on the ground, under the broken branch of a tree. Tears were in her eyes, but the scream seemed to be just out of surprise; her pain she would contain as much as possible.

“Ow,” she allowed, as Kiy pulled her out from under the branch. This needed to end, he decided, so he crouched to her level and held her shoulders.

“Sissy? You are too fat to fly,” he said bluntly. This provoked some real tears, and tiny but powerful fists struggling to beat his face. Finding that his arms were too long and held her to far, she scratched at his hands instead. He put up with it.

“If you want to stay airborne, you’ll have to get lighter. No more sweets and heavy meats, ades, nothing, until you can beat those chubby little wings of yours and stay in the air for longer than the Earth goddess will drag you back down naturally.”

Screaming like she was being stabbed, she tore away from him and ran back into the palace. Sighing, he rose and followed after her. However, once inside, he found she had already run off and vanished. With a twinge of guilt, he set off to find her. After ten turns, he started to fret; after twenty, he was panicked. He finally sent word to the servants to look for her, and was relieved when, a few turns later, word came back that she was in the kitchens. He headed there, expecting to find her buried in her usual comfort food of bacon and pudding, but instead found her defiantly devouring green vegetables of the like she had never touched before. She looked up at him as she paused her eating to take a breath, and glared ferociously. He just smiled back.

Creative Challenge: Post 10

Note: Great, another wrong-gendered opening rofl. Um…
Also: I suppose NSFW (kinda) and ideologically sensitive material. Nothing graphic though, no worries.

She stared into the darkness. The sounds she heard coming from the master’s room made her cheeks flush; her tight rag she kept over her hair to hold it back was only making the heat more stifling, so she pulled it off, fanning herself with it.

“Oh, Goddesses, oh…” she heard the prince moan. Peeking around the doorframe, she saw the blue sheets shifting like water over the bodies of him and his mistress of the night. Biting her lip, she sank to the floor and shifted her skirts to make herself more accessible. Sliding her hands down her legs, she started working on herself, imagining herself in that bed, making her lord moan so, making him say-

“Come on, Dimi, I want to be on top for once.”

She blinked, pausing for a moment. She’d always imagined that he’d be the more assertive one. Thinking for a moment, she decided it was just another great thing about him, that he could let the woman take the reigns. She set into herself with new vigor, keeping her breath as quiet as she could and her feet slipping on the stone floor as she struggled to contain herself as quiet as a ghost’s shadow. Until, in a quiet whisper which she would not have heard had she not been listening so hard for ever detail of her master’s coupling:

“You’ll get your turn one day, commander. Until I say so, I’m the older of us, so what I say goes!”

“But Dimi...Ah-!”

She stopped again, eyes widening.

That voice…

Master Dimitro?!

She gasped loudly in shock, then slapped her hands over her mouth, trying to retract the sound. But it was too late: the sounds coming from inside the room had stopped, and after a few moments, switched to shuffling and hurried footsteps. Terrified, she struggled upright, pulling up her skirts and garments, and making a dash for the corner.

Out of nowhere, a blaze of fire erupted in front of her, scaring her senseless but leaving her unharmed. It did block her way, however, and she had no choice but to turn around. There in front of her stood Prince Kenneth, his hand outstretched, keeping the conjured fire in its place, contained. He was naked from the waist up, glistening with sweat, his auburn hair free and wild around his face and back, sticking to his cheek. His brown eyes were fierce, but there was also a flush in his cheeks of something other than fury. Beside him, his twin brother, Dimitro, stood shorter than his brother, but just as intimidating: his eyes were much calmer, but something about his stance, and the way his dark green hair, which looked black in the cold, nighttime hallway, still fell so neatly around his square features, was unsettling to her. He had not bothered to dress; his nakedness only increased the heat in her face, thought it might have just been the contained inferno burning threateningly behind her.

Nobody spoke for a few long moments. Then, as Kenneth opened his mouth, Dimitro spoke.

“How long were you out there?” he asked. His voice was a venomous calm, and she shuddered involuntarily. Should she lie? As she looked into the shorter twin’s eyes, she knew that would be the end of her for sure: he was a business man, and could spot a lie from across the room.

“About f-five turns. M-Maybe six? N-Not v-v-very l-long,” she said, trembling with fear. The Fire prince turned to his Earthen counterpart, reading his face instead of hers. Dimitro nodded.

“That...is not good,” he said, darkly. Fear surged in her again, and started to cry, falling to her knees. Kenneth look disgusted; Dimitro simply pitying.

“What do you think, Brother?” Kenneth frowned more deeply in response.

“Kill her, I guess. Too dangerous to be allowed to roam,” he said. His fist tightened, and the flames behind her intensified, and she opened her mouth to scream. Demitro’s gentle hand on his shoulder, however, made the flames die down, and all she managed was a little whimper. All she heard before she fainted was Dimitro saying he thought he had a better solution than setting fire to the corridor.

---

The next spring, as the snow thawed and the birds returned from their summer migrations to the acres of Hyerun, the twins looked out at the courtyard from Kenneth’s window. The sun was just starting to break over the tallest spires of the chapels and towers of the city, streaming thin spring sunlight into the gardens below.

Dimitro pointed at a small sapling which had not been there last fall, in the corner of the yard. It was small, frail, with bark the same brown color as that unfortunate maid’s hair. Dimitro, mouth on Kenneth’s neck, asked quietly if he thought she’d at least finished before they’d caught her. Kenneth grimaced and shook him off, wary that other people might be enjoying the first rays as well. He grimaced and answered, probably not. The Earth elemental frowned and waved a hand: the sapling straightened and blossomed pink and white, making it the prettiest little plant in the whole of the country.

“Well,” he said, moving away from the window, “now she has.”

Creative Challenge: Post 9

It had to be done.

“Nooo! Nooooo!” Arietta cried pitifully. It broke his heart, but it had to come out.

“Just hold still. I’ll do it quickly!” he said. It hurt him almost as much as it hurt her, but delaying it any longer would only make it worse.

“Nooo! Nooo, Papa, Nooo! Don’t!!”

Her little fingers covered her mouth, protecting her wiggly tooth, and the shiny adult one growing in under it crookedly.

It had to be done!

“Just…” he paused, then smiled. “Did I ever tell you the story of the Black and White Princess?”

Her eyes went wide, as they always did at the prospect of a story. Her hands stayed en guard, but she opened up a little bit.

“No. I don’t remember that one,” she said timidly. She crawled up on his knee, and sat watchfully, in case he tried to do something.

“Well...Long ago, there was the land of the Black, and the land of the White. The two got along together very well, until a prince from the White fell in love with a princess from the Black. The princess, however, did not love him back, and the two countries went to war for many years.

“One day, many generations later, the young Princess of the land of White, named Arianna-”

“That’s almost like my name!”

“Yes, so it is!” He laughed. “Well, one day, Arianna decided that enough was enough! She went on a secret journey, slipping away in the night, to cross the boarder and head to the land of the Black, to try and gain an audience with the King. However, she ran into someone on the way-”

“A witch?”

“No…”

“A monster?” Her hands came away from her face, eyes shining with wonder.

“No. It was the princess of the Black!” A little gasp escaped her mouth. “She had been doing the exact same thing: going to the other side to convince the kings to stop the wars.”

“They were very brave.”

“Yes. But the Black princess realized that, if they both disappeared, their fathers would think they had been kidnapped. So, they decided to switch, and pretend to be the other, so no alarm would be raised, and at the same time, tomorrow evening, tell each king what they had done. The princesses were both very beautiful and similar in appearance, except…”

“Except what?”

“Except that the princess of the land of Black had a tooth missing, just like your wiggly one. It had fallen out the night before.”

“But then they’d know! They’d see as soon as she smiled!” Arietta said in horror.

“They would! So the White princess had to be very brave. Her tooth was also wiggly, so the Black princess took her fingers like this…” he carefully inserted his fingers into Arietta’s mouth, who waited, unresisting, to hear the rest of the story, “…and pulled hard-” He pulled with a sharp tug. The tooth came without much resistance, and it took Arietta a moment to realize what had happened. Her tongue flicked to it immediately, and she stared at her father in awe.

“And then they matched!” he continued, not missing a beat, setting the tooth on a table. “So they switched places for one day, and then, when the time was right, told both the kings their plans. And the kings saw that, if their daughters and people were so concerned about the war, that it should be stopped. And they did! The princesses returned to their castles, but remained fast friends for the rest of their lives.”

Arietta’s face showed that she barely remembered the tooth. So pleased was she by the story that she clapped, and only realized that she was supposed to be upset once she caught a glimpse of the tooth on the table. She slid off his knee and went to go look at it.

“Thank you, Papa,” she said quietly. She smiled at him, now with one less tooth.

Creative Challenge: Post 6

This wasn’t where he wanted to be. His legs were really tired, and his feet hurt bad, and his sister was just acting so perfect, he wanted to pull her hair. Her tail was still, her ears flattened, and she walked diligently forward, holding their father’s hand.

“Why do we gotta walk so far to see nothing?” Taro asked unhappily, hopping on one foot as he tried to get a rock out from between his toes.

“You know why,” replied his father shortly. Arietta shot him a mean look, then turned back straight ahead. Grumpy, Taro continued onward.

“But I don’t get it. I don’t even remember-” he started to complain a few minutes later, and Ronin stopped. Taro stopped talking, and looked at him.

“I do. And you owe her this much,” he said in a low growl. The threat was real, he knew, so he stayed quiet until they got there.

It was outside a little house that he knew was theirs (not that they lived in it). The garden was gross, weeds everywhere, and bugs swarming around tomato plants long gone unpicked. Arietta recoiled from this a bit, and Taro sneered at her.

They moved around to the back of the house and out a little way, to the edge of the forest. Arietta knelt quietly by the pile of rocks that marked the empty grave of their missing mother, and their father followed. Taro took one look at the rocks, rolled his eyes, and headed off into the forest.

“Where do you think-” Arietta called after him, but Taro waved a hand to stop her.

“I wanna be by myself. I won’t go far,” he said. He expected his father to call after him too, but surprisingly, he stayed silent. Instead, the beating of wings followed him, and Kietaro was at his side. He landed, and walked like a dog next to him, eyeing him.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” he said reproachfully, but Kie just snorted and shook his head.

“You’re six, what are you going to do if a boar or outlaw comes for your hide, hm?” he asked.

“I’ll gut ‘em!” he said, and drew his little knife, slashing wildly at the trees. Kie just snorted again.

“Put it away, before you hurt me or something,” he said. Taro obeyed, but only because he wanted to.

“So, why do we gotta do this every year, anyway? She’s probably dead,” he asked, kicking a stone.

“It’s what people do when someone they love dies,” Kie said, perching on a rock in a sunbeam peaking through the canopy. “Sit down. This is far enough.”

“Yeah,” he said, flopping on the ground. He picked up a stick and drew circles in the dirt with it. “But I don’t even remember her, what she looked like, or anything. I woulda wanted to stay with Mai and Lycan and them. It’s more fun there. Aioru was gonna teach me how to do that Mi-whatsit dance thing with my knife.” He sighed heavily. “Father just gets so mopey this time of year, and it makes Arietta sad.” And me, he thought, but he didn’t say it. When his father got depressed, he didn’t like to tell stories, or play with them; instead, he liked sinking in dark corners with his thoughts, eating little and drinking too much.

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t handle it well. He really liked your mother,” Kietaro said.

“Tell me something about her,” he said. He was bored, and wanted a good reason why she was so great. Maybe Kie would tell him something other than ‘she was beautiful, kind, and loved you very much.’

“She…” he uncurled his head to look up in thought. “She was pretty, with all her cattyness, and stronger than she looked. She had a voice that would beat Ronin into submission with just a few words.”

“But he’s so tough! Was it like, magic words?”

“Nope, just threats. But she carried through on them. I remember once…Ah, but you’re a little small for that joke. Let me think.” He paused again, Taro blinking. “When they met, your father was stone drunk in the middle of a temple. She came in seeking help, and he tried to shoo her away. He gave in from her shouting and because she was pretty, and did the favor she wanted from him.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, to go slay this big evil bad guy that had done her some wrong,” he said. “She had gotten into some pretty serious stuff. But, your dad realized it would take a long time to track this guy down.”

“So he left?”

“No...He stayed. She was a fiery woman, and he liked that. She knew what she wanted, and she could fight for it if she had to. She wasn’t one to sit down and let things happen.”

“She sounds like a great warrior,” he said. Why had this never been mentioned?

“She liked peace more. After a while, they gave up on their great chase, and settled down. By then, your dad loved her very much, and they wanted to be together permanently. I was fine with this, cause your mom had a smokin’ hot dragon companion, which I-”

“Really? Both of them gave up? What wimps!”

“No, no. They realized it wasn’t important: vengeance was just taking over their lives. It was your mother that convinced your dad that the fight wasn’t important anymore. Besides, they could go kill him later, once they felt like it. But they wanted to have you, so they did.” He paused. “Then one day she vanished.”

Taro sat in silence for a while, pondering this. His mother before now had been faceless, just some maiden Finan who his dad had been taken with, not a proud warrior who had decided that making his sister and him was more important than fighting. He felt guilty that he hadn’t cared.

He stood up and bolted back the way he came. Kie followed him swiftly on foot, shifting to something more apt to running through the underbrush. He broke out of the forest to find that his father and sister had gone inside. He knelt, alone, at the pile of rocks with his eyes closed. He heard shuffling behind him a few minutes later, and peeked to see his father with a smile on his face kneeling next to him, curling his tail around his own.

“Sorry,” Taro said. Ronin nodded. “I didn’t know how brave she was.”

“I’m sorry too,” his father said, looking up at him. Taro shifted and looked back. “For being a bad father recently. And you’re right,” he said suddenly. His face showed signs of sadness, but the smile broke it. He ruffled Taro’s hair. “We don’t have to walk so far for nothing anymore. The place doesn’t matter. Just...think about her sometimes, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. Together, they got up and went back into the house, the stars shining above their heads. Taro looked up, and wondered if his mother still saw the same sky.

Creative Challenge: Post 5

The old woman looked at him and smiled. The disease had not been kind to her; her features were thing and pale, but still she smiled at the little boy who stood by her bedside, one frail hand stroking his thin teal hair. He sniffed, but did not look away from his aged grandmother on her deathbed. In the corner, his older brother Grey sat quietly watching the scene, a ghostly chaperone that tried to remain as removed from the situation as possible.

“Sorranaya,” she whispered; death was on her breath, and the little boy tried not to flinch from the smell. The disease had hurt her on the inside, Grey had explained. The woman’s smiling mouth parted again; half her teeth were missing, and her tongue slid around like a grayish-pink slug, slow and wet in the dark pink of her mouth. “Are you afraid?”

“Yes, Granny,” the little boy answered. He heard Grey shift uncomfortably behind him. “Yes, I am.”

“But not of poor old me?” she asked, hopefully. He shook his head, and then laid on the bed next to her, where she continued to stroke his hair gently.

“That’s right, I didn’t think so,” she chortled. The sound rattled in her lungs, and she sucked in a breath that might have been wind rustling through reeds. It almost tickled the ears. “Have you been keeping up with your studies? Do you have any more pictures to show me?”

“Yes, Granny,” said the boy, and he turned to fetch the drawing he’d made for her. Once retrieved from his bag, he turned back and handed it to her. Grey leaned in curiously to get a better look, but it was too far to see clearly.

“It’s a map of the land of the Ritophs,” he said, barely audibly, in her ear. She smiled affectionately, her chest rising and falling less and less distinguishably. He pressed on, “Where all great elementals go once their free of their bodies, and their energy is released back to the centre of Terrassia. Checkers told me.” He promised me, he thought.

The map was pretty, full of color like all children’s drawings, but it was also organized, ordered. Green hills ran through valleys and forests where happy wisps flew, and the elemental gods, represented so crudely and idealized, appeared all over the picture. Granny was in the centre, a wisp with long flowing white hair, and was playing with the boy’s favorite goddess, Arania of the skies.

“I think I’ll do just that,” she said, pointing at herself. “That looks rather nice, and not so hard to breathe in, being made of air. Do you think Arania is a nice lady?”

“The very nicest,” he said, smiling earnestly at her. “You two will be great friends.”

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then looked over his shoulder to nod at his brother. He heard Gray rise, and felt fingers on his shoulders gently prying him away. He lead him to the door, and he was no longer afraid for his grandmother, but happy instead.

“I’ll send you a breeze,” she chuckled. Then the door closed behind them, and Grey lead him home.

That was the last he heard from her in words, but two nights later, after she had finally passed, and he sat at the top of a tree in the courtyard, the little boy felt a tickling breeze stroke his hair as she had, and he smiled.

Creative Challenge: Post 3

It wasn’t as if anyone got hurt. Tomias always whined when he didn’t get his way; you’d think I’d beaten him bloody! If he didn’t stop crying, I would, too, to give him something to cry about!

“Kayla!” Mother cried, picking up my little brother and holding him to her chest. “Stop picking on him!”

“He started it!” I screamed, stomping out the door. “He spilled his juice all over my costume, and you know how gabilan berries stain!”

I slammed the door behind me, still wearing my once beautiful green dress, now with a giant purple stain all over the front. It dripped onto the ground, but I didn’t care. I needed to be out of that house, away from that screaming brat. Boo hoo, I broke his little toy horse and knight. I’d rather have broken him!

I stomped off so far, I was at the baker’s, so I stepped inside and took a pastry from the shelf. I devoured it, hungry from my rage, and batted my eyes when the owner came to collect his money. For a few whispered words and the promise of a ticket to see the show, he left me alone. Brooding, I looked out the window, and saw that it had begun to rain. My head sank miserably onto the table, my tongue poking out to pick up leftover crumbs. I lay there a while, until I was disturbed by someone sitting down across from me. I looked up and blinked.

“Can you not see this table is occupied?” I asked, angrily. She rolled her eyes and gestured around. Her skin was as dark as the stain on my dress, and her hair a deep violet. Her nails were painted bright pink, and she had laid a script on the table.

“All the other tables are full,” she said. “This was the only open chair left.”

I looked around. She was right; the rain had forced in many people off the streets, now enjoying treats and buns and hot kalah. I grumbled a bit in the back of my throat. She scoffed and left, clearly unimpressed by the show of dominance.

She left to go buy something to eat. My eyes turned to the paper she had left on the table. Curious, I picked it up, and started leafing through them. At first, I thought it looked stupid and cliche; a comedy and romance, with two Finans, two Canans, and a talking beetle named Twitterwig. As I read on, however, I found myself smiling, then chuckling, and at a few points laughing outright. It was original, and damn funny. I sped through it, my grin widening, until I realized the girl had come back, and had been staring for me for ‘Tals only know how long.

“You like it?” she said. She didn’t look angry; quite the opposite. She sat down, and to my surprise handed my a cup of kalah. I took it, handing back the papers.

“Well, I suppose it’s okay,” I said, trying to pass it off as nothing. She frowned. I shrugged. We sat in silence.

“Okay, fine. It was pretty funny. Who’s the writer?” I asked.

“Me,” she said. I gaped.

“You’re pulling my tail!” I said. “No way.”

“Yes. I’m part of Mendiah’s writing class.”

I leaned back in my chair, impressed. Mendiah was the Kard clan’s most coveted playwright around, and had taught all the best. He was ancient, and only took a handful of students a year. The play was good enough that I believed it. She looked proud, but not boastful. I leaned in closer.

“When’s this to be put on?” I asked. I was eager to see it. She frowned.

“I don’t have a cast, except for Twitterwig,” she said solemnly. “Everyone’s so busy with The Gandolian Daughter, nobody wants to pick this up. It’ll be next season before it’s put on, and by then my Mordellian will be gone.”

Instantly, I was guilty. I was in The Gandolian Daughter, as one of the protagonist’s sisters. I had wanted the lead, of course, but they gave it to Amaiya, as they always did. The frustrating thing was, I was better than her. Honestly better: Amaiya was the queen of sadness and tragedy for sure, but I was better at the humor, quip, and flair than she was, which the lead needed.

“What’s you’re name?” I asked. She blinked.

“Kyr’strayal, or Crystal,” she answered. “And you?”

“Kayla,” I replied; if she had used the trendy Human name form, then I wasn’t going to bother with my Draconian one at all. This was fate. I knew it. I would go home after this and kiss Tomias for driving me out of the house in anger to meet his girl; I’d kiss the rain for keeping me in, if I could. I took the papers gently from her hand; our fingers touched, and she blushed. I felt a little color in my cheeks as a reaction, but leafed through the papers again.

“I thinks this has great potential,” I said, in my most authoritative voice. “A lot of potential. And if it waits until next season, why, nobody will go to it. I hear the Council wants to put on The Merchant of Ventira after.”

“Really?” she said, looking downcast.

“But,” I said, holding up a finger. My smile spread. “I know a few of us in The Gandolian Daughter that are...none too happy about getting shafted to minor roles because of favoritism.”

She looked as if she were about to kiss me. Not that I’d have minded too much.

“Including me. So, why don’t we run this little show ourselves? Get me and my buddies and your Mordellian together, and put this on the night before the big hotshot show opens?”

This time she did kiss me, leaned right across the table and planted her dark lips on my rouged ones, sealing the deal. We Kard are nothing if not dramatic!

Creative Challenge: Post 1

Today, I wanted to write lots. So I picked up a random first sentence generator and a random number generator. I challenged myself to write with whatever came up with whoever corresponded to the number on the list. Sweet.

Up first is Karimo.

The water looked deep and inviting. He shook his hair out from underneath his helm, putting it under his left arm, one hand still on his dragon’s neck, gazing down at the gorgeous mountain lake below them. They were so high up, all he could see was a break of blue in a see of dark green treetops, but he was desperately thirsty and could use a bath, and he knew his partner felt the same.

Eagerly, they moved down towards the lake, diving at too steep an angle. Karimo yelled and clung tightly to Trianna’s neck, but she was apparently more parched than he thought; she didn’t slow down, even at his persistent cries aloud and in his head. He felt his legs lifting from the saddle and going over his head, and finally his fingers slip. He was falling through the air.

I’m going to die, he thought miserably, panicked. I’m going to hit the ground and splatter-

But Trianna noticed it at the same time he did; there was a settlement outside the lake. From the corner of his eye he could see his dragon’s legs working the air,trying to stop, but instead she just plummeted, and made such a splash in the lake that the water rose ten feet easily and slapped down on the banks, hitting some of the huts hard.

But, he was still going to die. He closed his eyes and braced for impact. What he hit felt softer than ground, but the impact still broke his arm. He continued through whatever he had fallen into, onto another hard surface, and he howled in pain. As he opened his eyes, he realized he had fallen through a straw roof, into one of the homes.

He also realized there was a very angry woman stepping out of a bath, entirely naked, with eyes like gold and hair like spring grass, not to mention a spiny, scaled tail of deep emerald tipped with a lethal spike of silver, twitching wings that almost touched the ceiling and sides of the hut when extended, and an expression of rage that, if it could kill, would have left him wishing he was only in the lowest region of hell, and not where this woman wanted to send him.

Then the pain rushed back to him. He howled again, crushing his splintered left arm, knees curling up to his chest. He supposed this evoked at least a little sympathy in her; she ceased to actively want to kill him and simply dressed. Still, if he was going to die, at least he had seen the image of female perfection first!

He slowly became aware that there were cries of alarm and dismay outside, and then laughter. Clearly, they found Trianna amusing. Eventually, the woman whose bath he had accidentally invaded returned. She dragged him upright.

He cried out in pain, but she paid him no mind, and shoved him from the hut. People stared. Trianna had her head on the ground, level with him, her body on the bank now, still dripping.

She threw him to her fellows, two young dragon-men, who held him tightly. He winced, but held his tongue.

“Who are you, dragon-rider?” She spat at him. He blinked.

“Karimo. And you?”

“You are not in the position to ask questions,” she snapped. He recoiled. She was fierce, and that glare was back. She threw her hair back. It was only now he noticed she had a knife in her hand. Yet, when he glanced at Trianna, she was closed to him.

“Tri?” he asked. There was fear in his voice.

“Quiet,” she said, firmly, brandishing her weapon. He looked back at her. “Why are you here?”

“Please, I was just...We were flying farther than we have ever before, and…” he gulped, and looked around. “We haven’t been outside the compound of our mistress for a -”

“Can you not speak in the first person, or have you just lost your mind from the fall?” she asked. The dragon-kind around her barked laughs of approval.

“We...We are a we, miss,” he said, glancing at his dragon, who was still closed off. His arm hurt him badly; he began to sweat.

“No dragon needs a human to complete her,” she said. “And it seems you’ve flown too far on stolen wings from your precious little mistress, nestling. And caused a lot of damage here, particularly to my roof. You shall be made to repair it, and atone for your crimes.” A smile broke her face, and to his surprise, it was not cruel. “But your dragon is very fond of you, so we will be kind. She has explained the accident. You must still remain here until your repairs are completed, but you shall not be treated unkindly.” The hands that held him loosened, which was a relief, except that he realized he had been using their strength to hold him up. He slid down, and they had to catch him again. The dragonwoman frowned in concern.

“Take him to be tended, and then to the spare hut,” she commanded. He felt faint; the world was spinning.

I was only blocking you to joke! He heard his other half pander inside his head, panicked. Don’t die or anything!

He meant to comfort her, but the world swam black, and the last thing he saw was the worried face of his great black, rising in alarm.

A moment

Because I have a research essay due, I write everything but my essay.

This is unedited, just for Tea.

Learning to Ride

There was a moment, just a fraction of a second, that I thought I wouldn’t make it. A slipping sense of horror, of impending doom, of failure and ridicule that I just wouldn’t be able to handle, not here.

Then I was safely atop the massive blue beast. I swayed for a moment, then fell flat on my stomach, laying across the great horse’s neck, hugging it tightly.

“Not so bad, eh?” Raidon said, smoothing Cobolt’s hindquarters with the brush I had been using on him only minutes before.

“He’s huge,” I said, with emphasis, but the grin was already spreading across my face. This was way too cool to be aloud. A normal horse was around my height: Cobolt was at least a foot and a half taller at the shoulder, powerful, and fucking blue.

“He’s a big boy, alright. And I’m glad you’re taking this on. You never want to get caught in a situation where the only way to move is by horseback,” Raidon said, with a chuckle. I distinctly recall my mom saying something similar about learning to drive a standard, back in Tokyo. Somehow, this felt more likely.

“So what do I do?” I asked, easing myself up from Cobolt’s neck, stroking it like I would a cat. I turned to Raidon, who had moved back into my line of vision. I wish I had a saddle or reigns, but I guess he figured that if you started with the hardest first, everything else just got easier after that. I agreed, but the butterflies in my stomach would have liked me to have something to hold on to.

“Oh, I don’t know, just dig your heels in and don’t fall off,” he said with a shrug. My stomach sank further. How had this seemed a good idea? He was a princeling, and had probably been riding since he could stand, maybe even before. I looked wildly around to the others, who had gathered for the good show. Tori was smiling evilly, chirping a little laugh under her breath. I narrowed my eyes at her and turned my gaze beside her, to Ryu, hoping for some more sympathy. He was quietly stewing something undoubtably delicious in a pot, and avoided eye contact with me pointedly, his face turned down, trying to hide his smile. I chuffed and turned back to Raidon; I could hear Rena giggle-fitting behind me. Only Raidon looked concerned for my welfare atop a beast that could throw me in an instant, and trample my skull into the ground.

“Well, when I ride, I like to keep one hand on my weapon, and the other twisted up in his mane,” he suggested, circling around me. I entangled both my hands, just to be safe. “Then I sorta lean forward,” he acted it out, which looked pretty funny, with his legs spread out over nothing and his back and head cocked at a weird angle. Rena’s laughter intensified.

“Oh, would you like to be my horse, Rena?” He said, pulling her to him and making an obscene movement against her thigh. Ryu’s face descended further to the point that his hair was almost in the stew, and the blush creeped up his neck. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, just let him go, see what happens. Stop being a mother hen!” Rena squealed, and, to my horror, she slapped Cobolt, and he jolted forward.

I barely held on. The yelping sound was definitely coming from me, and yet I was a little impressed with myself for not falling off instantly. I could hear shouts distantly behind me, and footsteps. I clung desperately, digging my heels into the horse’s sides. To my astonishment, he stopped, and was sent flying forward. I braced myself for impact, which was surprisingly soft, and sooner than I thought, and also accompanied by a distinct ‘oof’ sound that I did not think dirt made. When I opened my eyes, I was looking into the slightly pained, stubbly, but relieved face of my blue-haired companion, and realized, with some embarrassment, that I was being held in his powerful arms like a child, or worse, a new wife. I struggled, red-faced, and the laughter made me cringe and squirm harder. Raidon set me on my feet, also chuckling, and ruffled my hair affectionately.

“Well, pretty good, for a novice,” he said. “You didn’t fall off, and you figured out how to stop all by yourself.” A swell of pride rose in me, and the laughter faded from my ears, either because it dissipated, or I subconsciously ignored it. In that moment, I had felt a part of something, an inside joke between him and I. It was like having a brother, or a dad, or something like that. Just another thing that made this place so great.

Amber

Please don't mind her lack of feet. Or hands, either.

This is Amber, Ryu's and Saku's first actual child (Why am I drawing people's children?!). Based off a picture of Shirley from Code Geass. This is actually from a while ago. Dunno why it took me so long to put it up.

Joey

Second post: Some shots of Joey (Tori's and Kaji's kid), based off of Delta from Ghost Academy.

Yeah, very similar. I'll make some more modifications to her design later, but I love the look.

Terrassian Group Shot!

The very first ever!

Is it bad? Yes! Is it sketchy? Yes! Is it largely inaccurate? Yes!
Is it the only time they've all been drawn together! Yes!

Dunno, it started with Raidon and Rena and then just escalated; I wanted to fill up the page.

From left to right (since the text above their heads is kind of small):
Tori

Rena

Ryu

Amber (on his head)

Raidon

Saku (pregnant with quadruplets o.O)

Nakaira

Kano (above) - And the worst drawn of them all, tied with Aiako
Aiako

Kaji and his unnamed dragon.

(Even though Kaji cut his hair like, two years ago. Oh well. I liked it long.)

The Great Chain - Sketch

Well...Here it is. After two days of work, I have a preliminary sketch of every character (pretty much) in the Terrassian story, minus Kali, Jett, Sypher, and some minor characters like Aioru's grandpa, etc. =D So keep in mind that this is just a sketch and not the final thing. It may or may not be chibi by the end of this.
Thanks to http://yuuyami-artist.deviantart.com/ for rough bases from her own Chibi chains (yeah, I'm not awesome enough to do it all myself).
Unfortunately, Blogspot and photobucket do not support a picture of this size, so you will have to click the link to DeviantArt in order to see it:

http://fav.me/d2sgdkv

The 4th World

On the back of my World Issues note about the classification of development for countries, I drew my own little fantasy world. Here are two continents, Harenstos and Galavane, both belonging to the 4th quarter, or 4th World.

Edit: Whoops. Forgot to get rid of the extra box between Samdar and Landir. Ignore.

Ryu and Draduro (Young)

A split picture of Ryu and Draduro, symbolising the two sides of his conciousness.

Drawn in Philosophy. Colored at home.

Confessions, Pt 3

I realize that not everybody knows the significance of these confessions, so I'll do point summaries to explain them:

Lycan: An arsonist who works with Gail, Mai, and Aioru in a group of monster-slayers.
Gail: Lycan's wife.
Mai: A blacksmith and the leader of their group. Married (later on) to Grey, but had a fling with Raidon. Raidon and Grey, you hopefully know by now, are brothers.
Aioru: Pretty self explanitory.
Taran: Actually a Shaman from Earth (which explains the costumes of his ghosts, which are in the next set). He's ridiculously shy but likes Aioru.
Kaika: Taran's main Guardian Spirit. She pretends to be a hard-ass, but really she's the mom of the foursome (Taran, Kaika, and his two other ghost companions Togiro and Matsai). It's common knowledge that she hates Togiro.

Confessions, Pt 2

Part 2!

Finan, v1.0

My feline furry friend here has no name or history, but I've started to design Koloran citizens, and he was the first (and worst so far).

No idea what he's wearing or why.

If you understand this...

...you know me too well.

First day of school, pretty awesome, I think I'll have time to draw on spare or in philosophy.

This was done during my spare, to explain to Stephanie the goings-on of Terrassia and its crazy retarded inhabitants. Actually, it was just Raylin, but all these other people got involved too, so they got heads.

Sorry about no post yesterday, had work and school prep and suck =(

Myro or Drad maybe coming soon (I tried Drad today, and like, half of him worked, half didn't).