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About Varied / Hobbyist CaseyUnited States Group :iconundeadapocalypseoct: UndeadApocalypseOCT
We all knew it was inevitable.
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Literature
worLds 5
Now imagine for a moment the same scene from a different perspective.
There is a person on the roof of a building that both is and is not there, and wherever the person touches is comfortably solid. A line of concrete footsteps hangs in midair, the imprint of a body drapes on a ledge that is more real than what surrounds it.
Somehow, what this person sees coalesces out of the aether a little more, as well, the contrast of shadows deepening, the saturation of colors strengthening, a city of pastels and grays gaining substance.
Basic science teaches that nothing in the worlds is created or destroyed, only changed. The nature of existence is a balancing act between order, constancy, substance, and chaos, change, the ethereal. To make is to draw from elsewhere-- to solidify the bonds that make this this and that that. And to draw tight what wasn't meant to be taut... why, that makes weak spots. And where there are weak spots... there will be tears.
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Literature
worLds 4
That shut him up for now.
The walls of the White City were shining, polished. She passed a long mirrorlike window and habitually glanced over. There was the team, moving in a close cluster. Their armored suits were black, flexible at the joints with tough segments on the torso, neck and long bones, and the hoods draped between their shoulderblades sealed on closure; a suit of clothing designed to stop as many weapons as might be brought to bear against them. Bullets, blades, claws, breath, gas-- they'd seen it all and they would survive it all. The team of five was armed to the teeth, too-- pistols on hips, two with rifles against their spines, one with one of those big swords, a claymore or zweihander or something. All carried knives, and one carried two. Their leader wielded a rapier, which she'd once thought was a bit of an affectation until she saw him carving up a Fallen with deadly efficiency, stalling it long enough to get their spiritualist to safety and the sniper to load, aim
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Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon Epilogue
Epilogue: Midsummer
Kendal listened with half an ear to the complaints of the Speaker for the Craftsmen. "Why don't you just use slightly less pure silver, lower your prices accordingly," Kendal advised, as he had the last fifty times, "and more merchants will buy in."
"But Rhio! You know nothing of supply and demand! Of the duty I have to my customers, to…"
Duty. It was just one more reminder this year, a reminder of his beloved.
"…and so such a suggestion is simply not implementable! Your father understood this, you kn—" The Speaker for the Craftsmen cut himself off, aware that he had crossed a line.
The line of tears tracing down his King's cheek, he attributed to the loss of his father, in such an awful way! Kendal had refused to replace the dented silver Dragon Crown that his father had worn that day (Kendal wore it now) and a new Heir's Circlet waited for the next Rhio or Rhia al'Mandragori—that had been lost in the battle, he said.
XX
In honor of the victorio
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Mature content
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 3.2 :iconpaladin343:Paladin343 1 0
Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 3.1
Part Three: The Healer and the King
11
Kendal watched Eelsa surreptitiously from what he considered his bedroom, the stillroom, as she knelt before the little table in the corner of the main room. She did this every morning, he'd found out, paying homage to the spirits she called Lord Earth and Lady Rain. Amusing, he thought to himself. Despite everything that we find different about each other, we both worship the spirit of water. At least, Kendal used to. He found himself doubting sometimes.
If Wind and Water are our protectors, then why did that arrow put out Lareth's eye? Why couldn't my father fly to safety, instead of being slain like a diseased beast? Why couldn't it have rained? The pass would have been too dangerous to traverse, with loose earth on the mountainsides. Thoughts like those plagued him, keeping him up at night as he saw that cursed arrow fly again and again, saw his father fall again and again. Why? Why?
XX
Ilsa whispered her prayers to Lady Rain on this, the last
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Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 2.6
10
Jon Kelsonra came calling the next day. While Kendal hid in her bedroom, listening carefully to the Valley-speak, Ilsa received the man as graciously as she could, given her poverty. He looked about, not bothering to conceal his contempt—he was a Councilor of Orchard Hill as well, and the owner of the orchard for which the province was named, and was accustomed to far more wealth than Ilsa would ever know. He noted the simple altar to Lady Rain and Lord Earth, lit by a single candle, decorated with two hand-carved and –painted statuettes and a hand-embroidered linen; the simple clay pitcher, cups and plates on the shelves, with hand-carved cutlery. Ilsa could see in his expression that the one redeeming factor of her home in his eyes was its scrupulous cleanliness.
Jon Kelsonra didn't waste his time on politeness—the moment he was offered a chair, he sat, fixed his eyes on Ilsa's, and spoke bluntly. "Three of my men came here yesterday. They have not been seen since."
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Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 2.5
9
Kendal knew that shifting would be a risk, especially with the kast keeping his leg straight only in mandragora form. But when he was unarmed, and needed agility… He whipped on a shirt so he wouldn't be naked when he returned; and he shifted.
He dashed out of Eelsa's bedroom, where he had hid when her visitors came, and skidded into the stillroom with a fighting cry. He assessed the scene before him and rearmed Eelsa before taking part in the fight. If there was one thing he could not stand, it was violators of women. He attacked without mercy, and without remorse.
When he saw that all three had been dispatched, he shifted back; then he saw Eelsa. Clearly in shock, and probably an innocent to killing, if not death itself, she stabbed one of her attackers over and over until he stopped her with a reassuring hand.
"It's all right," he said in his own tongue, "he's dead." She screamed again, and he realized he still had blood on him from his other form. He grabbed a sheet from his
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Mature content
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 2.4 :iconpaladin343:Paladin343 0 0
Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 2.3
7
When Kendal woke, he moaned, regretting the liquor that he had drunk. "Lareth," he muttered, "I will never let you take me out drinking again." He shifted and his chest exploded in pain—he hissed. Whyever had he thought his friend and bodyguard Lareth had challenged him to a drinking contest? For now everything was clear in his memory; everything. Nothing like a broken rib to make you sober, he quipped to himself, blocking out the memory of…
It didn't work. He sucked in a breath.
...
The battle had been long—the Valei-men had just kept coming, and coming. Kendal and his father were at the front, the Black Guard behind them, protecting their flanks. As was traditional, Auroth was in dragora form while his son and heir was in mandragora form, and the Guards behind advanced in their favored form. Auroth was fearless and awe-inspiring in his gold-lacquered breastplate and helm, extending and retracting his wings menacingly, while Kendal scorned the heavy, hot armor, prefer
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Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 2.2
6
Ilsa stepped forward instinctively at his pained expression. "Your ribs?" she asked, before remembering. She tapped her side, where her ribs were, and he nodded, flicking up two fingers on his right hand. Two ribs. He mimed breaking something, too much in pain to speak, even if she could ken his words.
Ilsa made her patient lie down and opened the borrowed nightshirt. A bruise the side of her hand bloomed in all its black-purple glory across his lower left chest. Ilsa bit her lip—there was no way to fix a broken rib, she knew from experience, but to wait it out and hope it didn't move enough to puncture a lung or burst out. Her guest would have to stay for the rest of the season at least, while his legs and ribs healed. Luckily summer was mainly weeding, berry-picking and herb-hunting season—unless a child got severe summer-fever, there would be no need for an overnight patient until autumn, when she got a fresh wave of careless tree-climbers and sickle-slashes.
She went to
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Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 2.1
Part Two: A Life for a Life
5
The day of Kendal's execution dawned, but there was no demon's familiar to hang. Ilsa came into town at dawn like everyone else, leaving a picture note for her guest, because to not attend would cause suspicion.
There was public uproar when the locked prison was opened and the prisoner was nowhere to be found. Some of the more excitable women fainted into their husbands' or lovers' arms. The young soldiers ran off, in all directions. Ilsa felt sick to her stomach, seeing them load their crossbows, yelling, "He can't have gotten far! He can't walk!" Hunting an injured man down like a lamed buck...
The town drunkard, who also happened to be the brewer, stumbled to the front of the mob. "A demon got 'im! I saw 'em running t'rough the road. They  took off inta th' sky!" Half the crowd shouted at him to shut his mouth, he was drunk; the other half, mostly old gossipy women, turned to each other to discuss this possibility. Everyone knew that the flyin
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Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 1.4
4
The sun dawned on Kendal's last day.
He knew it now—when the guard opened the door that morning to give him his water and bread, he saw the unmistakable shape of a gallows. While most criminals in his land were given the chance to die honorably in single combat, once in a while there were those deemed so awful they were hanged, in mandragora form, to show their shame.
I'm going to die, Kendal told himself again. The concept didn't become any more real to him, no matter how many times he said it to himself. He was leaning against the wall in more-or-less the same position the healer-woman had left him in. His wrist wasn't broken, thankfully, and had stopped hurting so much, so he had dragged himself with his better arm to his bread and water and used the bucket before scooting himself back with his unbroken leg. He stared at the wall across from him. It was stuffy in this little room; even the vents built into this structure weren't enough to vent all the air, especially in the h
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Literature
Dragonlands: Heart of a Dragon 1.3
The sun dawned on the second of Kendal's last three days.
Ilsa Peteri was the healer—that was the default occupation for a woman who was orphaned, having no mother to teach her the skills of the farmwife, nor a father to support her and marry her off, nor land to call her own. She lived alone outside the town in a three-room cottage in the Healer's Copse, subsisting on her own supplies and gifts from grateful mothers and wives.
Ilsa had inherited no land from her father and therefore had no lasting status; she was only tolerated in the community because she was a damn fine healer and midwife, and more than once had saved someone's livestock or child. She wasn't even fit to be married, because all she had were her body and her skills, no dowry—no land, no animals, nothing of value except unsellable heirloom trinkets. Of course, since she was good-looking, and she had no brothers to avenge her, her unavailability didn't prevent the occasional incident; therefore, Ilsa was fully
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Paladin343
Casey
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Nothing much to say, I don't really consider myself all that interesting.
Interests
That you can't write without someone else? I create worlds, and people-- I do that easily, if I do say so myself. Concepts. Settings.

But I'm shit at plot.

Absolute shit at plot. I can't write plot to save the world. Plot POINTS yes, particularly involving character development or synchronicities between two apparently disparate lines of story. I used to be a horrible spoilermonkey on Fictionpress because of that, nearly always picking out the way a story would twist. General plot, yes. Girl falls into world. Girl is weird. Girl uses weirdness to save world. Huzzah and rejoicing.

But I need someone else to do the writing with me, and my usual cowriter is trying to get jobs and get into grad school.

Or maybe I'm just lazy and I let a few... okay a lot of bad experiences color my perception?

I don't know. All I know is, I can't focus, I haven't finished any prose with a plot in years, and I'm tempted to go back to my beginnings and find someone to write with. ...But would I be so lucky twice?

( I suppose I should mention: my first experience writing prose was writing on my own a series of five storylets, and one unfinished sixth, over the course of a single summer. It was glorious, the most productive I've ever been. I even finished another story that fall. Then I start faltering and failing to write bigger things, so I tried co-writing on the suggestion of a couple Fictionpress friends. And we wrote and FINISHED a weird and epic story, so I started co-writing with another few Fictionpress friends. Some took off for a while, some didn't, and with one friend I created an entire freakin' multiverse over the course of about eight years. After that... where the hell do you go? )
  • Listening to: the AC
  • Reading: a lot of webcomics
  • Watching: the screen
  • Playing: Persona 4

Journal History

Comments


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:iconkeira-bui:
Keira-Bui Featured By Owner Jan 12, 2013  Professional General Artist
:star: Hi, I'm running a giveaway with more than 3000 :points: as prizes: [link] It'd be great if you could join :huggle: Thanks a lot!
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:iconcomic-burn:
comic-burn Featured By Owner Jul 17, 2012  Professional
:) thanks!
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:iconkalkie:
kalkie Featured By Owner May 21, 2012  Professional Filmographer
Thanks for the fave :D
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:icontreyos:
Treyos Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch!
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:iconelectricgecko:
ElectricGecko Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2011
Tanks for the watch!
:icontanksplz:
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:iconpaladin343:
Paladin343 Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
Ooh, clever. *snerk* I enjoy it, both the art style and the jokes.
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:iconelectricgecko:
ElectricGecko Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2011
Well, good to hear!
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:iconlilianna333:
lilianna333 Featured By Owner May 26, 2011
i created an OC!!! check it out...please and thank you lol ^u^
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:iconpaladin343:
Paladin343 Featured By Owner May 26, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
I would like to note: first, anyone wishing to enter the Inevitable Zombie Apocalypse should enter via the group.

Second, the IZA is for real-life people only. This is different from most OCTs.

If you want to enter, please read the rules here.

That said, thank you for your interest! We're glad to have you. See you in the Apocalypse!
Reply
:icondarkdaria713:
DarkDaria713 Featured By Owner Mar 12, 2011  Student Writer
Hee. I love you. Thank you for the favourites.
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