| "...That burning feeling would rise in Mad’s throat, an empty, intangible thirst that could never be filled." |
Tomorrow
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Tomorrow“You ever feel like something’s missing?”Tomorrow
Max’s question hung in the air, putting a dent in their previously airy conversation. His light brown eyes searched those of his friends — fragile Jenny, boisterous Abigail, and grave Madison, who slowly took her eyes away from the thick mystery novel that was clamped in her shaking hands. She closed the book, not even bothering to look at what page she had left off, and left it sitting at her weathered desk, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans as she trailed off towards the window. Mad stood there like a manikin, her eyes unmoving, looking ou
by ~kiri-catastrophe
Pridea Excerpt: Is This Truth?Never in a millennia would Selena had ever guessed that she’d be trapped in a race against time against her own mother, where her only allies were two friends who could barely be called friends on their worse days. Had it not been more than a couple days ago, where she swore that she never wanted to see any of them ever again? And yet, right now, she grasped both of their hands – a friendly gesture that she had long abandoned after being forcefully taken under Mikki’s wing. The warmth of their skin in this cold, icy palace was all the comfort she needed to keep running, no matter if this corridor seemed endless… She’dPridea Excerpt: Is This Truth?
by ~kiri-catastrophe
SomedayIt would be wrong to assume that the new student was ignorant in the normal fashion styles for girls her age, for that was not the truth at all. The brunette knew what was deemed socially appropriate for her, to the point where she wished she didn’t. Good girls wore pinks and blues and brandnames on their tops with jeans, sneakers and sunny-smiles etched over their faces with a timid hint of lipstick and blush. She wore fishnet stockings with black flats that she swore she saw The Little Princess once wear, accompanied by a plaid dress with a overall-like straps for the shoulders. Her hair was long, while others hid their locks away in sSomeday
by ~kiri-catastrophe
We Deal in Demons: PrologueThe alcohol bottle was tipped upwards, sending the bitter, lifesaving stream down her throat like a rapid waterfall, churning uneasily in her stomach. Not once did she pause in her long drink, and in seconds, the bottle was completely empty. The woman sighed, already feeling the effects kicking in, but wondered if it would be enough. Should she seek out another bottle? Try other tactics, just in case this particular method did not work? A weathered hand clenched at her side, and she felt herself shake inwardly, both hands unconsciously resting on her enlarged stomach - the one sign of her pregnancy. Every time she looked at herself - every tiWe Deal in Demons: Prologue
by ~kiri-catastrophe
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EagerdeviantID
| No, I most certainly did not make a typo in my ID! What makes you say that, liar?! |
Devious Info
- Current Residence: A really tiny state where nothing interesting happens.
- Interests: writing, reading, roleplaying, video games, reading about wiccan culture, watching anime
- Favourite movie: District 9
- Favourite band or musician: Muse, Linkin Park, Apocolyptica, Josephine Collective
- Favourite genre of music: Rock, Alternative, Classical (when moody)
- Favourite artist: CLAMP, Oh! Great
- Favourite poet or writer: Charles Dickens, Terry Goodkind, David Clemente-Davies, Jodi Picoult
- Favourite style of art: Bwuh? The pretty kinds?
- Operating System: Vista (aka the shitbox)
- MP3 player of choice: iPod
- Favourite game: Anything Final Fantasy or Harvest Moon, Kingdom Hearts, Eternal Sonata, Guild Wars
- Favourite gaming platform: XBOX 360, Wii, PS2
- Favourite cartoon character: Foamy the Squirrel
- Personal Quote: "Writing, at it's best, is a lonely life." - Hemingway
- Tools of the Trade: A really speedy computer.
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Sorry for the really late reply, I had to get a new body grafted onto this mind
Take care!
--
I understand the muppets on a much deeper level than you
--
"Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer's loneliness, but I doubt if they improve his writing..." -- Hemingway
--
"Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer's loneliness, but I doubt if they improve his writing..." -- Hemingway
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
Now you can buy my book here!--------->>> [link]
--
"Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer's loneliness, but I doubt if they improve his writing..." -- Hemingway
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
Now you can buy my book here!--------->>> [link]
--
Don't mess with the cook's food when she's making it.
Refuse to apologize for wanting to be more.
--
"Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer's loneliness, but I doubt if they improve his writing..." -- Hemingway
--
"I'm a murder tramp, birthday boy," I think I said.
"I'm gonna bash them in, bash them in," I think he said.
~The Birthday Massacre
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