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<img src="/forum/images/index/introduce_yourself.jpg" height=40 width=40 align=left hspace=12 border=0>A forum where you can introduce yourself to other forum members, perhaps by telling them your likes/dislikes, your RPG background, your job, music you like or whatever takes your fancy.

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Postby Sirlancelot » Wed May 02, 2007 5:37 pm

These are all nice! i wish i had drawing skills as good as those, i do have great digital photograph skills though!

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Postby DorkPangs » Mon May 21, 2007 12:20 am

Music video I made for my filmmaking class... My teacher liked it well enough, so I figured I might as well post it Dear Mr. President... Let me know what you think...

The image credit goes to girltripped, I just made them into an avy and siggy.
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Postby Gardenia » Sun Jun 03, 2007 5:43 am

(Drawings deleted.)
I changed my mind.
I'm..too shy..
..sorry. :oops:
Last edited by Gardenia on Mon Jun 04, 2007 6:10 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Minto Jan'Jango
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Postby Minto Jan'Jango » Mon Jun 04, 2007 2:43 am

Well I don't tend to do enough drawing and stuff but you might appreciate this andthis

The first photo was taken by a mate of mine, pretty good photographer I'm sure I had some more photos somewhere but can't find them.
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Postby Gardenia » Fri Jun 08, 2007 12:48 am

Wow...I thought you wanted to show your us photography talent...

I bet you can you breathe fire too !
Ghraaah !~
teehee. ^_^

Don't play with fire ~!
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Tyrant Cecelia
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Postby Tyrant Cecelia » Fri Jun 08, 2007 1:04 am

Sa-Weet. These are prety good!
If you are what you eat, I could be you by morning.
Key: Tyrant Cecelia, Q,
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Kogan Urufu
The Big Bad Wolf
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Postby Kogan Urufu » Sun Jun 17, 2007 2:03 am

Well then, this seems a good thread, hey there, I'll be putting up some of my sketches soon (if I can be bothered to load em onto my comp :P) and I want to basicly show off, anyway, here's one already on my comp, its a Bomb from Final Fantasy 10

yeah, the lighting is poor and dulls the colours but oh well, see what you think.
Thanks to Cdawgg for the sig and Av. :)
Arian Crawford Male NG Human Wizard 10 - D&D Mercenaries, Expedition to Westgate
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Postby ezekel » Thu Jun 28, 2007 5:25 pm

Nice work lady you do have a great talent
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Postby Rude Rabbit » Thu Jun 28, 2007 5:30 pm

When my compy arrives I'll post some stuff up.

I want to warn you all in advance of how lame I am!

Also, "Lady"? A bit rude don't you think?
Thanks to Asrai and Outlaw for the Hare-kicking avi and sig! Free cake for you guys!
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Postby ezekel » Thu Jun 28, 2007 8:52 pm

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Postby White » Sat Jul 14, 2007 11:44 pm

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Postby Ferrari » Sun Jul 15, 2007 12:00 am

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Postby Firefly » Thu Jul 19, 2007 4:18 pm

DorkPangs: Wow! That video was amazing! It must of took a lot of effort to find such nice pictures.

White: I love your drawings. Especially the second. The way you drew the eyes is neat.

Minto Jan'Jango: :shock:
Last edited by Firefly on Thu Jul 19, 2007 4:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby moteem » Thu Jul 19, 2007 4:22 pm

just go to devaint art and i have the same user name there so it should be easy to find *thinks* i think i am going to make another scene.
very much love to Tifa for the sig and avi
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Postby seekerofwriting » Fri Aug 03, 2007 8:59 pm

Mmm ok! I'll post a sample of my RP, a sample of my poetry, and a sample of my photoshop. Other then that, there's not much else lol ^^

RP Sample: (This is kinda long.. Its a post from an old RP, but its one of my best recently, I think, with the lack of RP I've found.)

Sakura grin and took up a very.. unlady like position over him, nuzzling her nose to his before swinging herself off the other side of his. Stretching, back popping, and hair swishing in a mess around her face, Sakura left her clothes hanging ascrew and grabbed her tooth brush from her bedside table. As she made her way to the bathroom, her pace slowed from that of a happy bounce to one of quiet thought. The night had been great.. And she almost forgot what happened before. A sigh parted her lips as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Once in the bathroom, door locked behind her, Sakura's golden brown eyes stared at themselves in the mirror. What did this make her? Small hands grasped the sink beneath the mirror, so much so the porcelain began to crack. Tears streaked from her eyes. This is why people hated me.. This is what my parents would never tell me. This is what Aimi tried so hard to hide.. Dropping her chin to her chest, Sakura cried softly. She had been told the day her sister died, that she'd been killed by someone else, some one random. But, thinking about it.. Sakura knew the truth now.. It happened to be one of those times when her memory had a blackspot in it. Only.. The circumstances before it.. It could have put her in the same state as last night.. Forcing herself to relive that day, Sakura fell into a hellish world of memories.

Aimi and Sakura walked down the streets on the opposite side of town, the 'good' side. They'd been talking about their parent's and passively making hopes and dreams that they'd come back some day, but they both knew in their hearts it wasn't going to happen.

"Aimi.. Why wouldn't Mommy and Daddy tell me what happened during my blackouts? What's so bad?" Sakura kicked her feet, watching the dust they stirred up. Aimi stopped walking and looked at her.

"Sakura-san.. Why do you think they did that? It wasn't anything you needed to know about, so do you think they did it to hurt you? They were just trying to protect you." Aimi looked away and started walking again. Sakura fell behind slightly, running to catch up.

"Aimi, you know then? Tell me, tell me! Please!" Sakura had tears in her eyes, because in her heart she felt it was something she'd done wrong and that's why they never said anything, and that's why the kids at school hated her.

"Stop it Sakura! Just leave it alone! And stop crying, you need to be a big girl!"

"Or you can be the big girl, and we'll leave her out of it." A man stepped out from the side of a building, a gun in hand pointed at Aimi.

"Sakura, go hide. NOW, SAKURA!" Sakura quickly ran to a stack of crates and hid, watching the two. As the man closed the space between him and Aimi, hands snatching her shirt and ripping it off, Sakura felt an uncontrollable rage building within. When the man forced Aimi to the ground, grungy hands feeling all over and gun at her temple, Sakura felt it explode. In her memory, she felt that feeling explode through her again, as she cut to the next scene.

Here, both wings and tail were out, but also vicicous claws, and a glow of red focused around her hands. She could see everything, and could think, but yet had no control over herself. The man lay dead before her. As she turned on Aimi, mentally she screamed over and over, " No! no! no! Don't do it! Stop it now!", but it was to late. The demon within had reached Aimi's feet and Sakura closed her eyes tight as the razor sharp points of her hand cut across Aimi's chest.

-Next scene.- Sakura sat crying in the road, Aimi wrapped in her arms crying, blood soaked through and through her clothes. No one came. No one cared. To them, it was just one more problem to avoid.

Sakura hit her knee's against the cement floor of the bathroom, body shaking beyond control as the feeling of anger and hurt surged through every cell that tiny body had, charging it, pushing it, expanding, till it exceeded and destroyed any selfrestraint the girl had. A long growl burned in her chest, and this time her wings came easily, along with her tail, but her nails bled, draining lines of crimson into the sink. Still tears rolled over her skin, but for the world she couldn't stop this feeling, or this overwhelming feel of power.

Poetry Sample:

Looking Through The Peephole

I’m lost in this ravenous dimension of twilight beauty and light
And in each beat I hear the life
Click, click, click
My feet as they pace the garbage ridden street
Swish, swish, swish
Jeans on jeans as the surrounding trash keeps the peace
Tick, tick, tick
My watch of invisibility that holds a steady rhythm for my trudging
Beep, beep, squeal
Cars as I walk in front of them unable to see
Pulse, pulse, pulse…
My hearts racing ahead of me
Voices in my caged brain yell profanities
Rancidic words that seethe through tainted skin
Tap, tap, tap…
Broken buildings with tattered lives held inside
My striding soul in places untold
I see the sky and it’s not so bright
And I see you and I don’t know that to do
Feeling free is not so cheap
There’s a price, its called sanity
It’s the ultimate debt
Yet one not so hard to concede
For it’s gone before your eyes open
Drip, drip, drip
It’s raining in my parallel universe
And I’m soaking wet
Yet I feel nothing as gun shots blast through my ears
Fears that should be are standing there waiting
Never touching you while they’re suffocating
And I see I’m in a world that’s all or nothing
Stuck here in fresh cement concreting my toes to eternity
Blink, blink, blink
I can’t help but admire the exquisite morbidity
Of my busted up mentality as I sip on drinks of ice and coke
And I mean dope folks, not your floats
With wings that tether the sky attached at rim with bloody limbs
Sewn together with the ethereal string that stretches on for eternity
Whispering cries while babies die
In a world that’s what I’ve created
Look around there’s nothing to see
I’m alone here in my serenity
Click, click, click
Sole worn shoes that bleed from the wounds
Of walking the pavement till ripped hole to heel
And I’m basking in this feel of utter solitude
In my place of nothing.. Better.. To.. Do..

Photoshop Sample:


This is an old siggy/ava set

And another

I can't remember where I seen this, but I redrew it with minor differences, scanned, and photoshopped

That's alot.. Sorry. But there ye go! ^^
[[Always looking for IM RP, I'm better off with one on one RP, so feel free to IM on any of my messengers.]]
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Postby PerseKnoX » Mon Aug 27, 2007 1:28 pm

I don't know about my Talent i write a lot of Poems and Songs here and there i have a bunch in my notebook but this is the only ones i can find in my computer.

Let the one with the mic shining yall with the light. (thats right)
Prefix from the new block given it to ya, Coming fresh from the seoul(soul) of Korea. (Lovely Ideas)
brand new fellow coming fresh, think about what you say, this might be your flesh (press refresh)
best thats how i am not like the rest, know this cause im coming through your set. (aint a threat)
Words as sharp as a dynamic blade., intelligence to get a brother paid even laid? (masquerade)
Aint like that.. let me take them words back.. nothing dirty touching my track (society attack)
Invading the media with my rhymes, words so smooth and smart it might be a crime (waste of time)
Giving a title before my life hits fame, what a shame because my skills are insane (its not a game)
Load the beats and unload it to the world, Strong winds of speech find something to hold (story untold)
Now given the clue of who i am, the brother with new fans, the true rhyme rippin man,
Prefix seepin through your head with one meaning, All about God whos always giving
Possible Meaning? before all objects, no idolizing subjects, and never ignoring rejects
Know this know that cause God's here and always got your back no need to pack the strap.

it reads out pretty lame but with the beats i came up with it sounds pretty nice ^^
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Postby RossiUno » Mon Aug 27, 2007 1:34 pm

--Space for pics--

I'm at work, but this is to make me come back..When I get home, I'll post some pics of my artwork..usually canvas stuff..

My DeviantArt
Xbox LIVE Gamertag: The Burned Man</center>
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Postby hawklance » Sun Sep 02, 2007 4:23 pm

totally!!! sweet!!!
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Postby Lunaris » Sat Sep 08, 2007 12:26 am

Talents that I have... Well I enjoy making avatars and banners (such as the one that I myself wear in this site), and I also enjoy writing (I'm working on a novel at this moment) as well as drawing. However, one thing that I especially adore to do is write poetry, and so as a little sample, here's a piece by me:

Dark Angel

Sweet revenge of twilight moon encased in crystal ice,
Of silver wings and eyes of night which the heavens cast.
Immortal in its plunder with harshly somber price,
Left shattered, asunder to a sea of mirrors vast.

Skin pure as marble white glides through jagged, misty sands,
A reward for blackened sins caused upon guiltless lives.
And though repenting would suffice on knees and pledged hands,
While forgiveness vanishes, torture swiftly arrives.

Alone and charged as guilty for past, horrific crimes,
His soul screams “Absolution!” but his voice keeps quiet.
In clouds of perfect bliss ring lasting, unyielding chimes,
While golden gates shut fast and one heart stirs disquiet.

Rest easy and dolefully with gaze raised to the skies,
With arms outstretched and body clad in despondent rags.
There is no judge or jury to hear your wrenching cries,
As onto your form fall miserable, drizzling flags.

Winding back to act again is fault devoid of crime,
Accept your verdict, pain instilled in all ways and kinds.
Now that upon this dismal earth time’s changes climb,
In a dark core, so deep and void, purity unwinds.
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Postby Febronia » Mon Sep 10, 2007 12:50 am

Er... well... the picture in my Signature, which I hope I put in there right because if not then none of you can see it! ^.^;; heh... anyways... that's the first paint shop pro picture I made. I don't really know how to rate it, but I liked it.

"Why did you save me? I'm your enemy."

"I guess you are, but that has nothing to do with me. I just wanted to save you. I didn't care about anything else."
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Postby Kowari » Tue Sep 11, 2007 2:06 am

I'm new here, but this definitely caught my attention. I am an artist, and I work in both traditional and digital mediums.

Sketch of a random guy.


And my devart: http://holyshift.deviantart.com/
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Postby Wiltshiresaint » Fri Oct 12, 2007 6:35 am

This stuff is all great people!

I'm considering using something like DAZ to create images of characters in my forthcoming MRQ adventures, but maybe I should take a shortcut and use Photoshop to manipulate existing photographs?

I'd be interested to hear from anyone who does use DAZ to create character images, or any other software to craft landscapes, etc.
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Postby Weiss » Sun Oct 21, 2007 6:31 pm

Well, I suppose I'll post here, shamelessly seeking the rewards for doing so. Then again, I guess it's also good to display one's talents.

I'm a writer, and I also like to dabble in the digital arts of rendering images and then using them to create signatures and icons for use on BBS communities.

Writing Samples:

Prometheus wrote:Click! Snap! Click! Snap! The clattering tune of a metal lid broke the silence of a cold winter night. Light steps clicked against the rough pavement as steam rose from the lips of a pale form, tracing the course of his warm breath until it dissipated into the foggy night air. It was a dismal time, with the temperature dropping to an unbearable frigidity that showed no remorse for the pain it caused. Jack Frost was on a rampage; seeking to make up for the time he lost during the summer season.

All the world spoke out against his tyranny. The icy roads and snowy yards caused an uproar from the locals, as if their small voices could truly protest the course of nature. Still, they wasted their warm breath in their futile attempts at begging salvation from the driving cold. Even in spite of the hopelessness they felt. Even though their voices went unheard and unheeded, desperately they pleaded for sanctuary.

They wouldn’t go ignored. Like a savior from the heavens, he had come to answer their prayers. Like Prometheus himself descended from Olympus to deliver the gift of fire to mortal men, he brought the promise of redemption from the icy grip of winter. Trading in his fennel plant for the convenience of a flint and lighter fluid, he would bring forth the gift of warmth and comfort to all who suffered at the hands of a frigid tyrant. He would ignite the flames of hope in the hearts and homes of all who called out for reprieve.

Slowly he traveled up the narrow walkway leading to the front door of a beautiful home, trapped beneath the wait of the icy sky. It broke his heart to see its beauty crushed by the oppression of Frost’s unforgiving hand. A curled fist reached up and rapped upon the wooden door, a gentle smile spreading across his lips when finally the porch light pierced the night’s darkness and the knob began to turn as they welcomed their savior in.

It would be rude and uncaring if he kept them waiting. Immediately as a curious face greeted him, a tiny flame was sparked upon the end of the wick and united with the cloth which hung from the man’s form. The man seemed overjoyed. He screamed with delight and danced about as the gentle embrace of warmth overtook him. It was an uplifting sight as his family came down to bask in the warming glow. Soon enough, they were all joining in his cries of happiness, dancing within the flames which had been so generously delivered to them on this frigid night. Even through the warming glow of the orange and yellow hues, he could see the happiness on their faces. The cold was melted away, and their twisted little smiles warmed his heart even as he made his way back down the little walkway so that he might continue on his route.

Still, he couldn’t help but pause long enough to watch as the entire home was wrapped in a beautiful quilt of flickering fire. The perfect mix of red and orange danced beneath the pale moonlight. On the rooftop, the flames twisted and twirled against the darkened sky like the most beautiful coryphées in ragged dress. Their skirts were of a whimsical cloth, dancing hither and fro with a life all their own. It was the most beautiful display a person could ever wish to see, and he could only imagine the joy it brought to the spectators who had begun to gather.

They encircled him, shouting praise and worship for which he felt himself undeserving. Lights and sirens paraded forth as his personal guard had come to escort him on his crusade to bring warmth back to the frost-bitten homes of this small town. He was decorated with elaborate silver bracelets and placed within his chariot as the people rejoiced around him. His eyes were wide with a shining pride as he fought back tears of joy, and the smile upon his lips refused to fade even as the warm glow disappeared over the horizon. Certainly his moonlight chariot would take him to the next small town in need of his redemption.

Archie Smith, Boy Wonder wrote: As children, we are free to dream. Within the mind of a young boy, anything and everything is possible. In those quiet moments when there is naught but the sound of restful slumber within the walls of each quiet home. Maple Street was no different. Rather, it was the epitome of a peaceful suburbia, nestled away in the northeast district of the city. While the parents and grandparents, as well as the old folks in general, were grateful for the lifestyle this area provided, it was nothing to hold the fancy of young children who dreamt of adventure and sought excitement at every turn.

In their sleep – their pleasant dreams – they were able to embark on the thrilling journeys and perilous undertakings that they were deprived of in the waking hours. One such child was more the dreamer than any other. So much did he dream, and with such great vigor and desire, that the accounts of his marvelous exploits became more than fiction. In the dead silence of night, during one of the breezy months of the autumn season, his tale became more than just a silly child’s dream. That cold, dreary evening, dreams really did come true.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” a whispering voice inquired. Small orbs of radiant blue flitted about through the streets until they came before a house marked 491 Maple St.

“Of course I’m sure. Why must you always doubt me? Have I ever, even once, been wrong about anything?” the frustrated response came, though the voice maintained itself in a hushed tone.

“I could probably list a couple times, yes.” The smaller, feminine voice seemed a bit agitated at the condescending tone with which she was answered. He was always like that, snapping at anyone who raised even the slightest objection to his word or judgment. Truly, she had no idea why she put up with him.

“Well, I’m not wrong this time. Look, there’s the name right there. This house is the property of the Perry family.” He read the name from a small wooden plaque that hung on thin chains beneath the mailbox. “Now, if you’re done bickering, let’s get this over with.”

“Oh, you-” she started to raise an objection to his tone, but was cut off by the intrusion of another voice.

“This is no time for the two of you to waste with your petty quarreling. Hurry along before we’re discovered. I swear I’m never bringing you both along again. You’re nothing but trouble,” the lordly voice rambled on, but by this time the two younger sprites were already moving closer to the house they’d decided as their destination. With a heavy sigh, the third entity followed behind them as they circled the home, searching for a way to enter.

It wasn’t long before they came upon the open window on the second floor. There were no curtains and the blinds were pulled up, almost as if the tiny beings were expected guests. They entered quietly and dispersed around the room, their tiny wings fluttering hard, giving off a sound reminiscent of wind chimes in a light breeze. Combined with the faint glow they emitted in the pitch darkness of the bedroom, it wasn’t long before the young boy began to stir, pulling his blankets up and over his face to block out the light.

A tiny voice asked, “Is he the one?” The female fairy had lowered herself to hover about the mountain of blankets with a curious gaze.

“Come on, you lazy brat. Wake up!” the fiery voice of the younger male was raised in protest of the child’s response to their presence. He descended toward the small lump that lay hidden beneath the covers and stood like an angry parent with his eyes beaming down toward the few tufts of hair that were visible beyond the extent of the fabric’s tucked edges.

“Be quiet, Flint! We need to wake him – not the whole neighborhood.”

“Shut up, squirt. I know what I’m doing.”

“My name is Pixie; stop calling me squirt!”

“Will you two shut up?” the third voice was finally raised to silence the others before they caused anymore unnecessary trouble. His patience had clearly worn thin and his tolerance for their stupidity was at its limits.

As if struck by a trusted hand, the two appeared shocked, but they had indeed grown silent. Belial was not the patient type to begin with, and provoking him further would be unpleasant for both of them. Putting their disagreements aside, all three of the tiny fairies now hovered around the boy, their wings singing in unison like a choir of jingling bells. Though he grunted and complained, the noise wouldn’t stop, so it wasn’t long before the young boy emerged from his warm fortress and, with an unpleasant huff, surveyed his room for the source of the racket.

Opening his eyes fully to find the origin of the faint blue light, the irises became crossed when he saw a small object floating only inches from his face. It had the appearance of a tiny person, but gave off a radiant glow and a chime-like sound as four small wings batted behind her. It took a moment before the sight registered, hands reaching up to rub his tired eyes, thinking that it was nothing more than an illusion caused by his still-tired mind. When the little person remained, though, his reaction became quite different.

“Whoa!” Alex cried out in surprise as he flung himself back against the head of his bed. As he did so, his cranium smacked against the wooden structure and sent him tumbling forward once again. His face was buried in the blanket as his hands both reached around to rub his head vigorously to relieve the sharp sting at the back of his skull, reciting small words that showed his dislike at the uncomfortable feeling while this ritual proceeded.

“I’m sorry if we frightened you. Please, do not be alarmed,” Belial spoke, now hovering next to Pixie and staring down at the whimpering child. It was enough to make him quirk an eyebrow at the ease with which this human was conquered. Apparently inanimate objects would suffice for the task. It made all three of them simultaneously question whether or not they had really come to the right home.

“This is a dream right?” the muffled voice spoke from within the blanket. His hands were slowly lowered and he propped himself up, looking again toward the miniature beings who were floating about in his room, which had only just a moment ago been nothing but the average, ordinary bedroom of an every day, run of the mill teenager. “It has to be a dream. Fairies don’t really exist.”

“Of course they don’t,” spoke the voice of Flint, heavy with sarcasm. He fluttered over next to the child’s head and propped his hand against it as if leaning on it for support. “We’re just figments of your imagination. That’s why it doesn’t hurt when I do this.” The final word was accented with a swift kick from the fairy’s foot. Though he was tiny, it still hurt a bit more than a bee sting, causing the ill-prepared child to raise his hand to his cheek and cry out in pain.

“That hurt!” he exclaimed, turning his eyes toward the offender with an angry glare.

“Yeah, well not existing hurts a lot more. Now shut up and come with us,” Flint’s angry retort came with a strange request. It caused an immediate look of confusion to cross the boy’s features as Belial came ever closer for a chance to explain the situation.

“Your name is Alex Perry, correct?” Belial asked in a seemingly affirmative fashion, as if to emphasize that they had come looking specifically for this child. The boy nodded and the small sprite continued. “My name is Belial. These are my assistants, Pixie and Flint. We have come from the world of dreams, the land of Eldona, to request your aid, young master.”

“You came to ask for my help? Why? I’m just a kid,” he protested, staring with disbelief at the three creatures before him which defied every law of science he could conjure into his mind. Even worse was the internal battle that raged within him, questioning whether he should run away from these unknown beings who claim to be from another world, or if he should hear them out. Truly, the fact that he was speaking to them – carrying on a regular conversation as if there were no queer aspects to it – made him question his own sanity more with each exchange they shared.

“It is a world that you created. Only you have the power to save it from being destroyed.” The answer was given in a grave tone. Belial’s features, though small, expressed a great deal of sincerity.

“A world that I created? How could I have done something like that? I’m only fifteen years old, and I’ve never so much as made a plastic model, much less an entire world.” This situation was completely incomprehensible. How could a child create a world? Furthermore, how could the creatures that lived in that world possibly come to the real world? It had to be a dream. What other explanation was there? Then again, the back of his head was still throbbing from the earlier blow, and his cheek could still feel the twinge of pain from Flint’s kick. This was no illusion.

“Your dreams.”

Alex’s eyes shifted, looking up toward Pixie, who had addressed the question quickly. Though, the answer was so vague that it hardly left him feeling enlightened. Now more curious than afraid or confused, he launched his next inquiry. “What do you mean, ‘my dreams’?”

“The entire world of Eldona was created by your dreams, Alex. You are its creator and its keeper. From shore to shore, every mountain, valley, river and city was created by you as you dreamt. Now that world is being threatened, and we need your help to restore things back to the way they were. We don’t have much time left. We must go soon. Will you come with us?” The fairy’s eyes were widened slightly at this question, as if silently pleading.

The thoughts milled around in the boy’s head as he attempted to make sense of an impossible situation. None of it could be justified with logic. It was an internal struggle between having all of his dreams come true at the risk of being taken from his home and leaving all that he knew behind, or staying, and being left to spend the rest of his life wondering what would have happened if he’d said yes; what would’ve happened if he weren’t too much of a coward to brings his dreams to life.

“What about my parents?” Even at the prospect of making his dreams come true, leaving behind his parents seemed an intolerable pain. Though they rarely had time to spend with him, he still loved both of them very much. To cause them any grief would break his heart, as well.

“This has never been tried before, so we don’t really know what will happen. It’s possible that, when we bring you back, you may return directly to the time at which you left.” He looked hopeful for a moment, causing Alex to take on the same expression, but both of their faces turned into more somber expressions when they simultaneously considered the other possibility. “It’s your choice, Alex; however, you must make it quickly. As the dawn approaches, our time grows short.”

“All right,” he responded quickly. Flint and Pixie both took on wide smiles as they heard him say it, Belial’s lips twisting up into a grin of approval as he nodded his head gently to affirm the decision. The three sprites motioned toward the window, hurrying him along so as not to miss their window of opportunity to depart from the human world. Once the sun peeked over the horizon, it would be another day before they could leave.

Under the guidance of the fairies, he perched himself upon the window sill and prepared for a mighty leap, expecting that he would fly, just like he’d seen in the movies. Flint, Pixie and Belial waited, floating a bit higher up, the oldest of the three looking toward the morning horizon and begging it to wait just a moment more.

“Come, boy, we haven’t much time!” the fairy called out, beckoning him to leap and take flight.

“All right, here goes.” With a giant push, Alex ascended into the air, reaching his hands out as if to grab at something that didn’t exist. For a moment, he felt the joy of flying, his eyes closed in anticipation for a second that felt like forever. This was what it felt like to have your dreams come true.

His eyelids parted, irises quickly taking in the scene that unfolded before him. A green sky rushed at him, faster than he could’ve imagined possible. In the next instant, everything was black, accented only by the loud thud and the sound of cracking bones as his small body collided with the solid earth below.

As the sun washed out the night sky, casting shades of luminescent orange over the brightening sky, the body of Alex Perry lay upon the soil, crumpled and broken by his own weight. The illusion faded, his dream disappeared, and now all that was left could be seen clearly under the gaze of the morning light.

Moments later, Robert Perry stepped out his front door, a mug of coffee in hand as he made his casual stroll down the walkway to gather the morning paper. It wasn’t until he’d retrieved the folded and bagged press that he turned and saw a momentarily unrecognizable lump at the base of his home, folded over like the very media he had tucked beneath his shoulder.

Time stood still as the dark brown liquid was sent splattering over the white concrete. Shards of glass flew outward from the collision, forming an image upon the rough surface that might be beautiful under any other circumstances. His legs barely able to support him, he staggered toward the twisted image of his son. To his knees he fell, reaching out toward the boy as he tried to call out. His voice was a mere whimper. The ability to speak had left him. All that remained within his reach was a blood-curdling scream that would serve as the morning call for anyone who could hear it.

A black bag was zipped shut, flashing lights surrounding the property of the Perry family as the police questioned and searched in an attempt to find answers. A young boy, only fifteen years old, takes his life with a leap from his bedroom window. It was a scene that could dishearten even the most stalwart rookie, or the most aged veteran on the force.

One of the older men descended the stairs and walked into the living room where the parents were embracing one another as they attempted to provide answers for a relentless inquisitor. A piece of white paper was exchanged, and even from the back, one could clearly see that there was a colorful image drawn on the other side. As the officer turned the paper around, the image became clear, and the case had, perhaps, been closed in the most tragic way.

Drawn upon the face of that rectangular sheet of white was an image that Alex had drawn. After reading through one of his comics, he had created this work of art, depicting himself in a cape, as well as a matching outfit of various shades and hues. The clouds were rushing by as he flew through the heavens; no doubt off to save lives as superheroes were known to do.

“He was always a dreamer,” his mother stated, tearful eyes looking upward, as if searching the sky for a sign of her departed son. It was futile. Even if he was there, the roof of their home would block out the sight of it. “He always said that some day, he would fly around just like they did in the comics.”

The same officer who’d handed forth the drawing now provided a comic from the other hand. The questioning officer looked it over with sad eyes before shaking his head sadly and lowering his hand. The comic slipped through his fingers, falling to the floor with the cover facing up. It was a scene much like the one from Alex’s picture, but it was another boy who flew among the clouds.

“Archie Smith, Boy Wonder,” the officer breathed as he looked down at the colorful plastic cover. “So you’re the culprit.”

Signatures / Icons:

A siggy made for a friend on another forum.

An unfinished siggy for another friend on another forum.

A former siggy of mine, made, of course, by me.

A siggy made by me for Tifa, back on another forum.

Another siggy for a friend from the other forum.

I also made the current siggy and icon that I'm using, as well as the siggy and icon being used by Tifa.

That's all I'll provide for now, since I'm sure this post is quite huge by now. Let me know how you like them.
Misery's White Knight</center>
Posts: 1039
Joined: Mon Oct 22, 2007 11:04 pm
Location: Where only black roses grow

Postby Araiziel » Mon Oct 22, 2007 11:14 pm

ok...my first post...was hoping to make it really good but only found an old piece of poetry from way back in 2005 on my dev art page...

Staring Stranger

There is no recognition
Behind those eyes that I see
Staring back behind the glass
Of the bathroom mirror before me

They can't give me the answers
The ones I seek so fervently
There is one thing I need to know
One answer I need urgently

The answer is one I don't understand
When I see those lips move behind the glass
As they answer my question, silently
But the lips are moving too fast

I can't read the face before me
It's like the glass is frosted in view
The face I see behind the glass
Is twisted, cracked, askew

It feels as if I could reach this person
By reaching through the reflective pane
Like liquid mercury, just reach in
And pull the stranger out again

Have stand by my side
Answer my questions truthfully
But as I touch the glass before me
It shuts me out, ruthlessly

It seems the stranger, staring at me
doesn't want to be in this world, in mine
He answers without words to me
'We can't be in the same place...at the same time.'

'We are brothers, you and I
Cut from the same proverbial mould
We are nothing but shadows of each other
Much like the heat... and the cold.'

'We are so similar, and yet so different
We have the same goals, same dreams
But I am a shadow of your true self
And nothing... is what it seems.'

'You are the dragon, I am the fire
That burns within your heart,
I'm the confidence within
I'll still be inside you, when, from this mirror...you'll part.'

And so I stare back at my dimensional brother
It seems both of us are trapped
And as I see him smiling at me
I realise, it's just me...

Smiling back.
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Posts: 14
Joined: Tue Oct 30, 2007 11:52 pm

Postby Hayabusa_Ryu » Wed Oct 31, 2007 12:21 am

wow you guys are really good at drawing...i wish i had a scanner so that i could put my drawings online... i have some pretty good drawings of kenichi if you guys ever saw teh anime...
"If you're not willing to risk it all, then you don't want it bad enough"

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