I used to be crazy about this guy way back in college and doodled him everywhere.
He's the perfect man...He might as well be called God. Unfortunately I hate trying to draw with a tablet, but I was testing it out because people said to. Again, Vexen is perfection.
My brother had a school project and waited until the night before it was due. So I decied to help him. He had to write something describing a scenario in a book he read. So he told me the synopsis and within an hour and with a broken mic...we wrote, recorded, and made a random DBZ AMV to the song: No Fear. I was trying to convey the emotion the character put forth both in his inne struggles and against the demon. He was a character who would see people's deaths before they happened, and in the end he lost a dear friend with a struggle of the demon. So that is where the song comes from. Lyricks: No Fear Said the Eagle to the Snake Never make that same foolish mistake Smoke wings evanesce into days of old Mystery walk down a dust-bitten road Eagle spreads his wings and flies Battered serpent drowns and dies I still have the same old face But never will I fall from grace I am leaving, believing no return Chorus: Better run, never hide! Childish lies, momma cried! Saw your fate, same as mine… Life and Death Walk the line you see here… But whatever may, whatever come…. No Fear Swallow the darkness eating you Black is gray, both in tune Someday will, someday do Mystery Walk… Winding path through (repeat chorus 2 Xs) Believer hides amid the sun Life and Death are become one I know your fate, mirroring mine… Better run, never hide! Eagle cries, snake it dies! Walk the path as it appears… But whatever may, whatever come… No Fear http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1359876 My brother got an A+ for this project. I'm glad I could help him. Video was made with Windows Movie Maker, so nothing fancy. The 'video' of us are actually hundreds of photo snapshots I put together since we did not have a camcorder at the time... My brother has such lovely vocals. I will always adore his voice. Enjoy it anyway.
I was inspired to doodle this after watching a video of Saix's death. It really moved me. Enjoy.
This is my favourite (discontinued) fanfiction I've written thus far. It is based on Crash Bandicoot. It is drama/suspense which is the genre I write best. You can see my true style here. I'll post a chapter at a time (if I get good comments, the next chapters will be posted.). Chapter 1: Hideaway Feet pounding against the wet earth, a stream of hot rain glazing Its face, pooling around the ankles in shallow glass puddles, the figure ran wildly, a blinking shadow in the crimson of the setting sun. It breathed and knew It was alive once again, for It felt so, and It accepted it as purely factual, that instant that It opened Its eyes and inhaled once again. Ripples of water lapped at the purple bruises, cutting like knifes into the delicate white skin, slashing with relentless fury. That same presence that knew It was to be caught and killed once again, like a mouse ensnared in the traps of the world, doomed to be forever hated and forever hunted against Its will. With gasping breaths It ran, farther away from the truth, lesser into the light, nearer to the safety of the darkness. Night would envelope It and incubate It, sustaining It with life until It regained Its full potential. A cry, harsh and ragged with weariness, burst from the parched lips. With a growing hope It scanned Its destination; the far reaches of forest thickened in the distance, shimmering mysteriously from the downpour that fell against its outskirts. Everything was hazy, as if in a dream or a trance, but It knew that It was awake and well, and that time was not so merciful. Blue eyes brimmed with salted tears, a sign of human characteristic although at the same time completely alien. They swam in eternal misery, in coming fear. Once It reached the greenery It would be safe for a time. Oh, but only for a time… Nothing lasts forever. Time weighs upon the flesh as well as the heart. It knew this, and that's precisely the reason why It had to escape. The reason It had to remain hidden until time would come again to unleash It. That time would come sooner than It thought… ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The girl bandicoot sighed, a hint of slight frustration in her tiny voice. The large green eyes stared out of the open window, unblinking at the scene of nature's wrath unfolding outside the glass pane. One of her hands rested lightly on the surface, the fingers splayed about casually. "It's never going to stop, is it?" Coco was referring to the cold rain that fell in sheets over the small house located at the heart of the forest. It could be heard beating loudly on the rooftop, muffling the music that floated happily from a pair of earphones that lay on the countertop, next to her computer. She had lived there in that same hut her whole life, or at least ever since she could remember. It was a simplistic structure, built solely out of gopher wood and nailed together with hard steel. The roof overhead consisted of smaller, finer pieces of wood, cut in flat slabs, and pasted with red mud, leaves, and bamboo rope. Despite it's meager appearance, the fort held up quite well, even in the midst of storms such as this. Coco wasn't the least bit concerned for the safety of the shack, for she knew all too well the strength it could sustain. It was her sense of vitality that was at stake. Her bones ached from the lack of sunshine, her head throbbing for the piney smell of the outdoors. For nearly two weeks it had rained nonstop, and the water had begun to soak through the cracks in the wood nearest to the sandy floor. For days she had trod upon wet soil, the grimy feeling it left between her bare toes a plausible nuisance. It wasn't only this factor that made her so upset, however. It was also true enough that they had nearly depleted all of the food supplies kept in the pantry, and her stomached growled hungrily even as she spoke. "It's just never going to stop" A loud thumping noise, not belonging to the descending rain, sounded in the next room over, a semi-formed kitchen area where the pantry and a nice dining table resided. The hair on the female bandicoot's neck stood on end. She whipped her head around, her blonde locks falling in her eyes, and almost instantly, a hand went up to brush them away. When her heart finally stabled itself to normal pace she sighed again, "Crash! What….are you doing….?" The other bandicoot looked at his sister with a bemused expression plastered on his face, his hands covered with a thick, lumpy substance. His fur was matted down, droplets of water dripping from the tips. With the same air as before, he shrugged nonchalantly and moved into the next room, leaving wet stains on the yellow sand floor. Coco hung her head, shaking it softly, the bangs falling into her eyes once again. She moved the toes on her bare feet, tapping the ground almost nervously. Crash was her older brother, another occupant of the house. Unlike his sister, Crash had not an ounce of common sense, spending his days lazing away, sometimes sleeping, sometimes learning a myriad of tricks on his prized yo-yo, other times goofing off and making mischief. He never spoke sentences; the only word that Coco had ever heard him utter was "whoa!" a clear ejaculation of the nonsensical sort. Pura, Coco's pet baby tiger came hurtling into the room, spreading dust in the air as he pawed the ground near his master's feet. With a content purr he rolled over onto her back, exposing his chest in submission. The girl bandicoot laughed as she squatted on her haunches and reached out a hand to gently rub the furry belly. "What's wrong, Pura? Are you afraid of the storm?" "That is unlikely. He was merely frightened by Crash's entrance." Aku Aku floated casually into the room and Coco's gaze rose to meet his. The witchdoctor mask made it known that he was the master of the household, fathering both Coco and Crash with utmost care and love. Despite his rather strict attitude, Aku Aku had the kindest of hearts, always willing to give and reluctant to receive. His voice filled the room with an aura of warmth, even as the freezing rain continued to pelt the roof restlessly. "That boy, always slamming the door…" He closed his eyes for a brief second before adding, "What was he doing outside in a storm like this anyways?" Pura purred as Coco straightened her posture, jamming her hands into the pocket of her low-ride jeans. One of her feet still tapped the sandy ground. She stared at the mask with utmost sincerely, "I…really don't know. I tried to ask him but…" She made a few gestures with her head in the direction that Crash fled. Aku Aku nodded, his wooden face hardening from curiosity. Without so much as a sigh, he turned and followed Crash's wet droplet trail into the back room of the shack. Coco stood erect for a minute more before lightly kicking Pura, forcing the tiger to rise from the floor and look at her lovingly. "Go eat something boy. I'm too busy to play with you right now." As the girl bandicoot watched Pura mewl and disappear into the kitchen, she made way for her computer, the earphones connected to it still pulsing out a lively array of musical scores. With a tiny bit of hesitance, she lifted her laptop from the table on which it sat and plopped onto the floor, placing the computer on her lap. Her legs tucked safely against her body in Indian style, Coco managed to get comfortable, popping the headset in place, and began typing furiously, the clicking of the keys ringing to the same rhythm of the rain. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Ung…." Light flooded the small, metal room, bright enough to arouse the figure sleeping on the silken, opal couch. Whoever was dozing was barely visible, as their entire body was concealed under a thick, hand-sewn quilt, the patchwork coming undone, and raveling at the ends. "What? Wha….what is…..it? What's….going on?" A soft voice ululated from under the covers. It was a peculiar noise, muffled somewhat, but still clear enough so that one would recognize a metallic twinge in the accent. With only this evidence, one would certainly think that the voice belonged to a cyborg or another breed of robotic genius. Given the facts, the speculation may or may not be true. Solely, in a sense yes, but altogether a work of false lunacy. Twenty-four year old Nitro Gin was as human as anyone, but fate had determined that he would live his later years as a mechanical miracle. Four years earlier, under mysterious circumstances, one of the distinguished physicist's missile projects went haywire and struck him directly in the head, disabling his right ocular cavity and connecting with the right half of his brain. His larynx also suffered immensely from the sheer impact, rendering his vocals useless. The medical staffing was able to reconstruct the live rocket into a cyber life support system by connecting the wires into the synapses of the right side of his brain, therefore connecting the electrical jolts with that sent to the brain cells in similar formation to the ones that feed the brain with information, keeping the heart pumping properly and the limbs of the body functioning adequately as they should. Metal plating was fitted to Nitro's head, covering the majority of the right half of his face, so that the missile would stay firmly in place. The only downfall of the procedure was the fact that the rocket was directly linked to the side of the brain dealing with emotions, and if Nitro ever gets angry he will literally blow his top. The smoke billowing from the rocket drifted above the sheets, hovering like an angry cloud in the gray room, smothered by the coldness it radiated. Again the voice came, one of artificiality. "Hey! What….." "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" "Oh….un……" The disoriented physicist rolled off of the couch in a bundle of blankets, making a thud as he hit the carpeted floor. He remained still for a moment, listening to the other man scuffling about in the laboratory, trying to push the effects of a two-hour sleep from his mind. His left eye blinked open, light filtering through the quilt and into his pupil that was slowly retracting. The robotic eye held much more sensitivity to visual stimuli, so that even the dimmed light caused pain to rampage his head. With a grunt, the covers parted, revealing first a hand, fingers gripping the edges of the blanket tightly, discarding the cloak. N.Gin, as he is called by most, came into clearer view of the intruder, who gave a nice, cackling laugh at the appearance of his colleague. The mop of fiery red hair swept down, disheveled, into Nitro's face, each strand clumped together with millions of others in one huge web of tangles. "I'm up." The metallic voice announced wearily. Smoke still rose into the room, though a trifle blacker, now distinguishable from the gray drab of the walls. "We have a dire situation." Said the other scientist from the far corner of the area, his yellowish skin dull in the flat stagnant air. His attention was trained upon a large, bright green screen that sat diagonal, sliding back from a panel of blinking buttons and suspicious looking knobs. The white words jumped, vibrant from the background, making N.Gin's head reel with another wave of pain. He stood to his feet, albeit slowly as not to topple over. Neo Cortex continued to stare at the screen, his face strained with what appeared to be unshackled worry and perplexity. N.Gin wobbled over to his partner, the reality of the situation still not made clear enough for him to share in Neo's apparent anxiety. The heavy-set scientist yawned, his vision still blurred slightly. It always happened in ways such as this. Sometimes it would take long hours for his brain to start functioning, and again sometimes only minutes. Today it felt as if it would take three hours for him to even be able to stop his head from bobbing with ache. Massaging his temple, N.Gin replied with another fit of yawns. "Situation? What are you talking about?" As if he thought it would help, Cortex slapped the other man on the back, knocking N.Gin forward, almost causing him to crash against the control panel above, which the information screen was so beautifully displayed. He coughed apologetically and moved on, "It seems as if she has escaped again. Her current location is two o'clock due north, on the outskirts of the forest." He folded his arms tightly across his chest, his fingernails digging into his arms in frustration, a line appearing in the middle of his forehead as his brow furrowed. "Ah….I see." The other mumbled, moving in closer, still recovering from the blow that Cortex had sent his way. The dull sting still pounded his head, but in spite of that he managed to focus well enough to give proper input on the situation. With a delicate sigh he added, "We'll see if we can't stop her before she reaches her destination." He took a long drag of air into his lungs, shutting his eyes. "I'll get to work on it immediately, Dr. Cortex." "Good. I want to be assured that this is cleaned up by first thing tomorrow morning." The short scientist turned his back on N.Gin, his arms still folded but his voice piping out softer than before. "Then you can get some sleep." He started for the door, got to the entrance and stopped again, his head turned slightly to take a look over his shoulder. "Don't fail me." And with those words he was gone. The metal door slammed behind him, the noise that it made ringing like a sounding cymbal. "You can count on that." The lone physicist muttered into the empty room, his voice still slurring from lack of sleep. His dark eyes peered up at the evergreen images flashing on the screen, his tiny hands rubbing themselves together like a fly might do after taking a landing in a favorite spot. "You can certainly count on that." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Like a steady drum the rain lashed at the earth, and It was growing weary from running, Its bruised heels throbbing. It paused for a moment of restitution of Its strength, one of Its hands tenderly circling a dark purple splotch on the protruding ribcage. Like an animal, It was attentive to any sort of disturbance nearby in its wooded surroundings. The forest enveloped it like the welcoming arms of a mother. An adequate hideaway for dire situations such as the one It was in now. The singsong racket of insects and amphibians soothed Its mind, comforting Its sorrow. Oh, was It full of sorrow. The heart grew fonder over time, but it also grew ever colder, tuning out certain unwanted feeling and guilt. Guilt was such a sensitive subject, falling on the open ears of the unloved. And It certainly was unloved! Not a morsel of compassion would fall at Its marred feet. Ever. And time definitely had no passion to save It. Like a wandering cloud, It would drift in time and out of mind, circulating in such a way that death was no possibility of escape. Contemplating suicide was of no importance. That concept would fail as well. It knew this, and that is why sorrow chose to plague It every second of the turning days. It was miserable in Its existence. The fog lifted from the ground, pale and translucent as a horde of ghosts. Songs waned and sprang up again to different tunes, all mixed in a conglomeration, an orchestra of the night. The heavens still wept with acrimony. Drumbeats of rain would not cease in the near future. That is, not until everything boiled down to corruption, until the hideaway was destroyed and It was unleashed again. Only then would the sun see fit that the earth deserved a smile. It sighed, a pitiful breath in the humid air, as It slumped to the earth, Its naked body wrapped in the cold, incubating. It grabbed up and handful of mud, hungrily, the cold blue eyes closing in on the darkness and creating new darkness. For now It was safe, even though a million eyes may be watching it. It was safe for now. Only for now… ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The female bandicoot heard nothing but the soft melodic strains breathing from her headset, her fingers still furiously pressing keys. Aku Aku had still not emerged from the room with Crash, and so she figured that she had no reason to panic. It was typical of her brother to wander into raging storms. It was his nature to be profoundly odd on such subjects. Coco's emerald eyes began to blur; the computer screen unnaturally bright in the dimly lit hut. Fighting back a yawn, she switched the computer off and carefully removed the headpiece, the music now fading, magnifying the sounds in the real world. Thousands of critters chirped and buzzed beyond the window, where the rain had not slacked even for a moment. Glancing at her watch, Coco was surprised at how dark it was outside compared to the hour. 6:03 a.m. shown in bright red on the deep green dial. "I wonder what's keeping those two." The yawn came, and this time she did not try to choke it down, but let it escape rather noisily. Before padding back to the bedroom, she peeked in on Pura. The tiger was sleeping peacefully next to a half eaten wumpa fruit. Silence in the room as she stepped in clarified that Aku Aku and Crash were down for the night as well. The thick mud was clear of her brother's hands, but his fur still looked slightly wet, glistening in the scarce amount of moonlight that peered through the canopy and into the window. "Guess it's time for me to crash as well." She muttered, another yawn threatening to explode. Her room was only a few steps away, the door shut, decorated with flowers and random other objects she scrounged up during her travels. The door creaked open with ease and she slipped in, nearing the single bed in the far right corner of the room. She sat on it for a second, quietly staring at the wooden walls, tracing the cracks and crevices they held. Like a miniature maze… Before long she found her head resting on the pillow, her eyes closing, her mind drifting off slowly into the comfort of sleep. --------------------------------------------------------------- It was 7 a.m., the perfect time for dozing off after a long night of tedious work and pounding headaches. He had accomplished nearly nothing since Cortex had come barging in on him, interrupting his fitful sleep. She had disappeared into the green thickets approximately 15 minutes after the other man had left, not giving N.Gin enough time to stop her. He would explain to Cortex later…. "N.Gin!" "Great…" Came the metallic whine as the weary Nitro lifted his head to see his colleague step into the room. "I suspect that the situation is under control." Neo stated, his tone of unease making the other man fidget nervously. "Am I correct, N.Gin?" His eyes narrowed as if he were now reading the other scientist's thoughts. A frown widened his lips, pouching them out in an almost hilarious pout. If he weren't so worried, N.Gin might have laughed at the sight. The short physicist ringed his hands, "She escaped before I could capture her, doctor." He ran the next sentence together with the first so that Neo wouldn't be given a chance to protest. "But, I'm sure with another half hour of work, I could pinpoint her exact location in the forest and perhaps…." His voice trailed off, heart fluttering weakly. Neo didn't reply. Instead, he graciously turned his back and sighed loudly. "We'll regroup and try again." He said finally, the softness of his voice reassuring N.Gin that he wasn't too angry at this blunder. "I want a location ASAP. Afterward, we'll dispatch a crew to pick her up." One gloved hand flew up to rub his chin. "We'll have to be cautious. She has some intuition of our plans." "Yes, doctor." N.Gin muttered, head bowed in respect of his friend's decision not to thoroughly punish him. Suspension from sleep sounded like a pretty light condemnation. He'd just have to catch up on it much later. Rising to his feet, he clapped his hands together, announcing in a much more lively tone than before. "I'll get to work on it immediately, Cortex. I assume that you have expert operatives on hand, ready to jump on the case just as soon as she's found out." "Correct." Neo listened intently as N.Gin agreed to follow through. He had always counted on his short friend for nice productivity, but this incident clearly put him at the top of the charts. Nitro would go without sleep just to aid him, and that factor graced a smile upon Cortex's lips. A flash of his rigidly straight teeth spouted off an evil laugh. The other scientist giggled happily as well. "Now that you are in good spirits, I'll leave the work to you while I go and rouse the others. She won't know what hit her." Neo exited the room, leaving N.Gin with another workload. N.Gin carefully adjusted a few knobs, all the while glancing through a hi-tech eyepiece. She was out there…. Somewhere. He would find her soon enough. "You wanna play hide and seek, huh?" He laughed, tinkering with the bright glowing buttons on the immense operation panel. "Ready or not….here I come!" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- The blazing sun only cast dim lights in the forest, the angry gray clouds smothering it from view. Rain still bolted down from the sky, hitting the ground with a deafening noise. The figure stirred a bit, now uncomfortable with the feeling that someone, or something, was watching It closely, studying Its every breath. With a terrible, rumbling sigh It blinked open the empty eyes, staring out, now able to make out where It had stopped for the night. A clump of bushes brushed Its right leg, beetles running over Its calf and ankle, sometimes biting It, sampling goods. It was leaned up against a tree, a sturdy, thick evergreen, the leaved drowning in Heaven's tears. With a cry It stood and shook off the pestering bugs, stretching Its arms overhead. Another long day would prove suspenseful. Another day of fleeing, running, dying a little more inside as the pressure of fate weighed upon Its head. Brown strands covered the pale face, the cold eyes looking through them and between them. A rumbling sound excited it, and a thin, emaciated hand patted Its empty stomach. Food. It was hungry. With a wild howl It flagged down Its prey, a wild boar rooting in the muddy slop of earth, the pig's hind legs stuck under a pool of wet soil. It ate without cooking, crimson blood dribbling down Its mouth, running in streams off of Its pointed chin as the unfortunate swine bleated in pain and agony. The sound of the boar filled Its ears, and Its heart beat harder, faster in turmoil. Why did It have to hurt so badly? Would there ever be an end to these worthless sacrifices? As the white teeth dug deeper into the animal's stomach, blood spurting out of the wound, washing the corners of Its mouth as the coppery taste of the innocent fueled It, the beast ceased Its whimpering and slacked limply in it's captor's grip. The wild animal was dead at last, and the horrible screaming would plague the figure's ears no longer. The snow-white skin was now blemished with red stain and mud. Tarnished innocence, failed remorse…. It continued to feast, supplying Its stomach with the foul meal. The ice blue eyes, devoid of life, closed on the scene of sacrifice. There they were….the screaming again. It would never be able to silence the shrieking… If there was such a thing as true peace, it could not be found here. Not in the mind of the uncorrupted….the countenance of the pure…. Not even in the safe, warm embrace of a hideaway.
My first published poem. This conveys my thoughts towards Leonard, my favourite character of the Silent Hill series (SH3). Echoes From The Past Sing my ears with your voice Dripping with false honey, sleeping in everlasting dark Wider, open my hardened heart Melt it with the warmth of your words Falling on the unseen corpse Me before you And you before I Does your mind hold a lock? Teeming with unnecessary riddles, dormant in their dirty crevices Turning, My hand with a key Reject it with your world of illusion Part your lips again Me before you And you before I Dare not speak this time Thinking on drowning philosophy, keep them safe inside you Knowing, your hidden smile into my own Make it last on your focused agenda Laughing, they are, because of our forbidden feelings Me before you And you before I Whisper so I may hear you once more Acting on rumors of guilt, pacing the depths of your past Aching, my chest bursts for cursed love Let it die, will you do this for me? Weeping for the fact that you are different Me before you And you before I Tell of your flaws and fancies Rushing in to battle pain, nudging against the outcasts Loving, I open my arms to you Come to me, I will accept you as you are Lapping at the blood of lost time Me before you And you before I There never was….
This is how I felt about N.Brio from Crash Bandicoot series. A first impression of him. Impression A torpid beauty, basking helplessly Captivated by the onslaught of growing light Brown that is your eyes and the gentleness of your waning fancies Danced upon joyfully by two happy feet I'm leaping into you again The slope of your existence, wrought by insanity Slurring together words of lucidity that ensnares the meaning of hope So far from my outstretched arms, lingering in the stagnant air on wings of unfertile fowl Rising from the craven voice that I call my own I'm singing about you again You, your alluring lunacy Reeling me in, my faith flailing like the tails of hungry fish Into a turbulent ocean that is forever undulating, murmuring your name above the vile storms Lifting your head as you speak with difficulty I'm diving through you again In unwavering, unbalanced time I'll forge us a formidable existence We'll live eternally in that fear of ourselves Won't you join me, unmarred jewel? Won't you join me?
Although I do sing seriously at times, there are some times when we just like to mess around. I'll post my singing clips here. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqCJ2_QSFuU This is me 'ahhh'ing to the Aura theme from .hack. My brother is a camera hog. My brothers like to dance (I did not choreograph this...haha.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iV3XrlTsK_A My brother had a project due and waited until 12 am the night before it was due..so I helped him write lyrics, compose, and perform a song. The theme was 'No Fear' from a book he read so I listened to the synopsis, wrote this, my oldest brother took out his acoustic guitar anda broken mic and me and my youngest brother sang the tune. I put it to a DBZ amv. Sorry for the quality of the mic. We used a broken mic and we couldn't hear the musick as we recorded (or each other as we did this in parts). But still, you get the idea. I love my brother's vocals. http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1359876
Yes you read the title right. I was in this contest where you take one of your favourite DBZ characters and give them an alternate career. For some reason it seemed to me that Garlick would be a ballerina. I won second place with this one. The first place was a Vegeta in a McDonalds uniform flipping burgers (which was hilarious). He makes a pretty dancer, eh?
One of my favourite icons of all time and someone I really look up to. In this portrait I did a top-down angle. It was for art class and I got a prfect score due to the theme: He's not so frightening anymore once you're looking down at him. He's just as innocent as your average naive human...because even a killer has a pure side to them. Sorry for the bad quality.
This was an experiment I decided to try out some time ago. I'd wait until I was passing out from exhaustion and then write in my sleep. Much of the time I had no idea what was written during the separate sessions. It spanned for a few nights before I stopped the experiment. This story is what came of it. It is not cleaned up. Idecided to leave it 'as is' so please excuse spelling and grammar mistakes. Prologue: Emptiness, emptiness... like gorging on a black hole, void of light. My life is a picture, still and waiting to be worn by snappy fingers. Still waiting to be used by mouths that lap hungrily at my tired feet, bruised from so many miles of nothing but nothingness. I remember how I stood, a young boy at fifteen years of age, at the foot of a church, my ears pricking at the bells' ceaseless calling, recalling the same emptiness even though people swarmed around my body like rabid bees and busy insects.... Life is a hole in itself, and the hole is to be swallowed by the same whole hole, not a crumb left to the dogs. Forgive me for not introducing myself...I'm not yet wise in ways of the meeting ones not known to oneself, nor am I keen on skills when delving into the communication between human beings. My name, however, I can tell you, and that is Randau. Randau Jack Climson. Most faces I recognize call me by the Jack, while some select few think it better to use the first name in such a string of unneccessary words. What is in a name? Nothing but emptiness, being gobbled up by darkness. Yet you must have one to carry on in this dreary world. So I, Randau, or Jack, whichever you prefer...shall tell you a tale of this thing called emptiness. I must warn you, however, that listening to such a story may bring you a sense of dread or maybe some subtle fear... Emptiness is timeless ad flawless, emptiness is omnipresent, is fate, is destiny no matter what the path. His words are clear. This is my story. I pray you follow in silence. It was snowy on the day that I met this man, a fine sunny morning just off of the western corner of a street lining the grounds of Spitalfield. The year is on time of a fresh 1987 January, so the streets have, of course as always, become slick with ice. Snowcaps adorn many of the objects in sight, a white display of death and rebirth. Something harboring what was to come... A pair of doves flirted alongside an iron fence, trailing along it's old gothic designs that were ingraved in the hard railing. I watched them for a moment, amused, but I dared not smile. Smiling was for the good children, and I had been quite unruly that same week, running off from our home on Bradford Street a couple of towns over, vowing and crossing my heart on not coming back. He sat beside an old wooden bench. I shook my head, wondering why an adult would prefer the ground rather than a seat, where the ice wouldn't be as enticed to melt through and soak the garments. The birds forgotten, flitted away in their play, and I remained concentrated on this man. From where I stood perhaps a little over a yard away, I could see that he was facing the opposite direction from where I approached, seemingly unawares of my impolite staring. The worn boots on my feet crunched the softer sheathes of ice, melting it in small flurries, but the sound did not stir the stranger. He remained still as a rock overgrown in thick moss, unmoving, unwavering. As I came closer still, I recognized the gray material of the coat, a little embroidered path up near the collar...My eyes widened in astonishment. Years ago, my great grandfather wore a coat of the same branding, but the company that sold those clothing pieces had been put out of business long ago. A fine jacket like that was rare. Studying the coat, and quite truthfully forgetting that a man came with it and was sitting as I stared on in such a rude manner, it came to be no surprise that I was startled by his loud words. "So you finally come." The voice was dried out and had layers of thickness...the accent unmistakably originating from here. This man was not a traveller. Or at least, not in the way of hailing from across the many seas the earth possessed. Something about the air his words put off signalled to me that he was way beyond my years, and that there was also a means of danger behind them. Young and foolish as I was, I was more concerned with the mystery and intriguing unbelief I felt towards the sentence. In the next few breaths I would seal my path to the nothingness and empty void that awaited a small wretch like me. "You know of me? You know who I am?" I asked, my mouth spitting before I could dwell upon what I was about to say, "You know I have run away, and you've told my mother, haven't you? You're the security, aren't you?" I swayed in the mound of snow, my boots sunken in, melted ice watering my stockings and chilling my feet. Not turning to even catch a glimpse of me, the sitting man bobbed his head. A chuckle dripped from his direction. "Security, eh? That's what you call it..." He coughed. "I know not of your mother or of your pitiful excuse to escape your hellish life. However, I do know you. Your eyes tell a story." "How can you know my eyes tell a story when you don't look at them?" A proceeded with my childish questions. He would teach me, as I found out. A good teacher does not let his students go wise in the way of ignorance. The true heart of a teacher is to uproot the very thing that makes children what they are... blinded ignorance. Children cannot see the emptiness. I could not either, until he showed me... He laughed, "You have much to learn. Come closer, I wish to look at you now." He remained as a statue, and I hesitated. Finally, figuring there was no harm in talking to such a placid mannered old man, I moved forward cautiously, almost anxious to see his face. As I did so, one last phrase escaped me. "I am willing. Teach me." Seed One: "It is the unseen eyes that hold the most vivid of stories. The eyes that pierce you from behind, where one is most vulnerable. An eye, a stare...these are what compose a first impression, beyond what little you can grasp in the most simple of conversations." ~ Adam Crowley at age 14 ------------------------ His small laugh was growing on me, even in the short time I had known him. The sound of it was full, and could be both used as evil or good;this concept confused me, even as I approached him with bated breath. Taking tiny steps towards him, my mind tried to sort out how I would feel about him looking upon me. Even at a youthful age, I was nothing to behold really. My torso was stretched like my long, gaunt face, and my cheeks did not hold the rosiness of my peers. Despite my short time lived on earth, I looked much older than fifteen. At least twenty or more they'd all claim, and I'd have to shake my head and say the correct number. Then they would chuckle and pinch my cheeks, some of them, the older ones. This man would not be pinching my cheeks, however. Before I completed my journey to his side, I pulled the stray hairs from my eyes so I could get a better look at him when the time came. My breath let go when he suddenly jerked his face up towards mine, and I, being startled, nearly fell to the snowy grounds. The sitting man's face was not much more than a sunken skull, his large eyes glossy but dead...the teeth he possessed were cracked, sharp, and stuck out in every direction, some protruding grotesquely from his round mouth. The nose was up near his eyes, his face twice the length of my own... Not able to help myself, I cried out, falling back a few paces. The man resembled nothing short of a monster in many of the horror films I watched over and over again. For a minute he kept looking at me, his eyes twinkling. Then he shut them, bowing his head and running a knarled hand adorned with twisted spikes for fingernails through his ratty white mop of hair. My expression was one of terrified shock, I'm sure, but I didn't blame myself. Who else would react any differently? Still sitting and keeping his vision away from me, the strange man finally spoke, "Your eyes still hold the same story. I only wanted to look at you and confirm the way you see me. It is given you are frightened of my appearance. Why? Why is that, young foolish child?" He did not once look up, his hands returned to his lap, nails dipping holes into the fuzzy white on the earth. "I..." My voice stuck, the images in my head still reflecting the man's alarming features. Even though I tried, I could not take my eyes from him now, even if he was half turned away. Feeling a bit of shame for my action, I neard him, even sat beside the man without a peep, folding my legs under me. My nostrils flared, taking in his smell, the aroma of that one thing...that emptiness...It was shocking, but because I was unfamiliar with it, I passed it off as nothing much. I was foolish. I wold learn. Turning to him and trying to wear a smile despite my discomfort, I answered him. "Sorry for offending you...Can you forgive me?" Slowly the face turned to mine, and I had to bite back any emotion I felt when seeing such abnormality. He was just a man, after all... The man's mouth remained slightly unopened, lips slack, until he returned words to me. "There is no ill will towards you. Not in a million eternities." Blinking a few times, he nodded towards the ground as he went on. "Many an eye have made this man weep tears of shame. It makes no difference if more tears fall. It is the unseen eye that pierces me the most." "Like when I was staring at you from behind..." I said softly, trying to understand where he was going with the absurd conversation. It is not everyday you hear someone speak so naturally, yet with words that had substance. From where I sat the ice was melting around, leaving watery puddles around my backside. I shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. The man nodded, and if I could have seen his face through the snow white mane, I'm sure he would have smiled in the triumph of my understanding. "Precisely. It is the unseen eyes that hold the most vivid of stories. The eyes that pierce you from behind, where one is most vulnerable. An eye, a stare...these are what compose a first impression, beyond what little you can grasp in the most simple of conversations." The man looked at me, but the smile I specualted was not there, only slack lips and a hefty deep look in those dark eyes. "Randau Jack." "How..." I started, but my startled expression knocked the words from me. "My name is Adam Crowley." He chuckled again, the same dry laugh as before. It didn't melt my surprise. "You are a bright and perceptive young lad. Much like I was at your age." I shook myself, twsiting my head from sde to side and arching my back a bit before relaxing. "That doesn't tell me how you know my name." I said, prodding him for answers. But instead of a few more sentences, I was awarded with his standing up abruptly. My eyes traveled up the tall legs, lanky torso...to the face, the dreadful face, that still concentrated on mine. "Where are you going?" "As I walk away you will stare, and it will be a mighty stare of disgust and bewilderment." He said this, and if his voice weren't always so thick with emptiness, I'm sure it would have been weepy at best, almost a tone of loneliness. He thrust his head to the right and up, his scrunched up nose sniffing the bitterly cold air. I sat, watching him, not saying a word. He coughed and said, quietly, "Your mother must be worried about you. Your absense is her emptiness. Go to her and show her that you are safe." The eyes found mine again on his last sentence, and I could have sworn his face softened. I, staring back, asked again, "But where are you going?" The man shut me from vision again, lips working slowly, "I go where my feet take me. Now go show yourself to your mother. Begone." Folding my hands together, I tilted my head down, looking at the spindly fingers on my hands, how sore they were from the cold. Both my stockings and my pants were soaking now, and soon I would get the shivers as I so hated. Adam seemed to know much about me...and about other humans in general. "Yes sir." I said, standing and trying to brush the grity flakes from my suit. "That is..." He stopped, spinning his body away from mine, leaving me to speculate as to what he was going to say next. I thre him a questioning look, at the back of the gray coat... Even though he could not gaze upon my face, I am sure he saw me learly in his mind. The unseen eyes always tell the most vivid story. He sighed, loudly enough for me to hear how strained his breaths were, "To your mother. Go." And he walked where his feet would take him, as I watched on in disgust and bewilderment as he figured I would. I watched this Adam Crowley follow the nothingness that led him. But whereas he didn't have an appointment, I had "orders". Jamming my hands in my wet pockets and feeling the crumpled money pieces I had left, I turned and began walking down one of the abandoned streets, through the snow that bites the soles of feet. I was walking in nothingness. I was going home. ---------------------------------------- My own feet followed the nothingness that was the iced slick roads, weathered and beaten from the storms. In my heart I felt sorry for the streets, always being the brunt of nature's attack. It reminded me somehow of the man, I realized, walking the long stretch towards the home I so dreaded returning to...the streets had to take much pressure, and was stared at, was trampled upon by shuffling feet and busy tires, and animal hooves. The streets were a sacrificial lamb for passage. Crowley remained in my thoughts, his presence as striking as a gods, thick and almost holy. His worn body was trampled upon by eyes.... "Unseen eyes." My mouth said. I only understood that I had spoken it when I saw the white puffs from my breath float before my face. Then the air was normal, the little smokey bubble disappearing into the nothingness. Nothingness...nothingness.... Despite my unwelcomed absence, my mother welcomed me with honey kisses and baby coos, stroking my hair with her large hands. Her chestnut eyes only held relief and not the anger most people possessed. Cupping my face and melting her vision with mine, she hummed softly, "Honey, don't you ever do that again. You had me so worried about you." As she helped me struggle from my wet clothing, I shrugged off her warning. "Mom, I'm fifteen and I'm able to take care of myself." I started, my stomach growling as the aroma of her cooking filled my nose. Mom always cooked. It was her passion...sometimes the food was a soup made from scratch, other times a delicious dessert. "I was just going out for awhile..." She stopped, looking over at me, her face a bit more hard now after placing my dripping coat on the rack that was always standing guard by the front door. Our house was small and cramped, and sometimes my legs just ached to be free of the tight corners and cluttered masses of belongings. "You've been gone for three days, hon. Why on this green earth would you up and leave without kissing your dear mother goodbye?" She sounded hurt, geniunely. ...Telling her the truth was no good. Ever since I was old enough to recognize myself in the mirror, I knew that this place was not where I truely belonged. My mother had never told me that she didn't physically bare me those fifteen years ago, but I knew, somehow, that she certainly didn't. When I had set foot out originally, it was to gather answers and to find my true self...to walk in blind nothingness until my past showed its true face. My lips trembled now...I was unsure of what to say. Nodding, she closed the distance between us and took me in her arms. I was almost certain she had figured it out by my expression...but she said nothing of it, only kissed my hair and returned to the kitchen to resume making our meal. Sighing, I retreated to my bedroom, a small square stacked wall to wall with books and writings...and stretched out on my shaggy bed. My arms over my head, I let my mind wander. As my body relaxed and my muscles fell limp, my sight swirled into the dark abyss of a dreamy sleep. It was time. -------------------------------------- "You cannot love. You are a beast!" The woman's words brimmed with anger. I could not see her eyes. She was faceless. There was also a man, wounded from the words. He held his chest tightly and stretched forth an arm, gripping the dainty wrist typical of young maidens. I saw only the black shadows of them, nothing more and nothing less. Just blackness against a wall of unconsiousness. Eyes unseen overflowed with tears. I could smell the sadness on his breath, "My heart fails me at your accusations, for my love is ever stronger than a sentence of lies." The thin hand tugged desperately on the wrist, but the woman resisted, breaking the grip and fleeing into the nothingness...away, like a captured bird that had been loosed. "You cannot love. You are a beast!" "...stronger than a sentence of lies!" The last words echoed as the broken man crumpled to his knees, hidden but weeping and real. I tried to reach out to him, but could not move. My eyes told me a story. In these shadows were a twisted mansion full of deception and heartbreak, of hopes and dreams crushed by the eyes of others. Beast. A derogatory term... a beast was something hideous to the extreemes... Sometimes unseen eyes tell the story clearly, as if through a looking glass. The invisible tears...they began to fall, spatering my face with wet darkness. My voice lodged and I could not make a sound as the man cried over my body, the invisible eyes producing tears to drown me. Soon my ears were covered and his weeping noises were muffled and warped, the water was sickly warm....my skin boiled with disgust. Beast. Beast. Beast. Cannot love. The liquid now filled my mouth, and my lungs cried for air as the tears rushed into my nostrils, pulling me under in a wave of sorrow. Beast. No love for the ugly beast. Pain rocketed up my chest and into my brain, severing all rational thought. When the last whispered sob snapped, I was no more. After being consumed by the pitiable nightmare, I woke into one similar, but with a variety of differences. This time the woman involved was fully visible to me, and a beauty of the times. Her light dress and skinny heels accented the high cheekbones and ruby lips. Her eyes were the colour of an expanse of sea on a misty dawn. She stepped forward, not smiling...the man close behind, hand outstretched. I could not see his face, for thick locks of raven hair covered him. The woman huffed in an uppity way, pouting as she rejected the needy persuer, "You are a beast...Look at you. How can this creature from the pits of hell know love? You cannot!" She sized him up, her eyes wild and daring. The words were the same from him, but even more tremulous than the last time he had to state them, "My heart fails me at your accusations, for my love is stronger than a sentence of lies." He begged the seductress to return to his side, spindley fingers brushing her dress. Groaning, the woman hurried away, not eager to stay with the forlorn one who could hold no love. Crying and weeping came again, much more accentuated this time...then the drowning as before. I wanted this nightmare to end...my heart bled for the mysterious wretch who seemed to have compassion to give, but not a soul to recieve it from. Again the pain consumed me, and then the third and final segment ensued. This lovely lady was younger than the rest, her body not quite filled out. Her beauty was that in simplicity and quiet tones, and she did not flaunt. In her hand, an object obscured by dark patterns, her fist clenched from what I could make out. She was waiting, patiently. Waiting in the nothingness. Right on time the man came...he was walking with a noticable slouch, his back humped over dramatically. Again his face was covered completely from view by gobs of black strands. A filthy coat, ragged and worn, was hrown over his frail figure, and he once again reached out to touch the innocent looking one. "You are emotionless...you have no heart. I hate you." Came the words... Then her hand was drawn back and the object brought across the man's hidden features. He cried out sharply, the agony in his voice making my last two encounters with pain seem like a paradise. I cringed, watching him grab himself, crimson oozing from the cracks in between his long digits. The woman dropped the object and spun away, leaving me alone once again with the man. Then time stopped and my heart felt as if it would drop to my feet. All that I could hear was my own breaths...the sound of nothingness. My legs were loosened and I could walk again... Approaching the man, I noticed the object gleaming from the floor. Stooping, I scooped it into my palm...rolling it over to get a better look. It was a feather with a sharp end...the fluffy strings protruding from the stiff stick were dotted with blood. The man....he was but a few feet away now, still and unmoving....a statue of his former self. Longing to see his face, to know his identity, I bent forward.... My mouth twisted into a scream. Beast. No love. No emotion. Beast, beast, beast.....All I could do was speak the word being beat out like drums into my head. ".....beast." ----------------------------------------- When I awoke it was pitch black...the image of the face that floated before me was still fresh in my mind, but soon the darkness consumed it like a hungry mouth waiting to be fed. The thought of food made my stomach churn. I sat up, dizzy from awaking...and pushed myself to the edge of my bed. From where I sat, I could tell me mother was no longer in the kitchen. She had probably noticed my sleeping state and had decided not to wake me for supper, so I'd have to go fetch the leftovers myself. Sliding my feet to the floor, I was surprised that the wood paneling was surprisingly warm for such a cold night. My hand caught my hair, tangled in a mess.... much like how the insides of me felt after such a trip in my slumber. Crowley's words still rang in my ears, a bitter aftertaste after suck a conviction. The word had rolled from my lips.... "beast"....the unseen eyes were speaking for me again...even when I had not looked upon that face, so terrible and twsited, I had already pinned the label upon it, a hefty stigma.... Guilty, I plodded the hallway towards the small kitchen that my mother always kept in homey, loose fashion. She had left a grandious protion of the food for me out... Greedily, I scooped it up, shuffling the bites into my mouth...the same way things ate at someone who was less fortunate than I, who perhaps has knarled hands and snow white branches of hair. Who could see with eyes of invisibility and still not judge, for the same eyes had been judged before, and so unkindly at that. Who perhaps also walked in nothingness yet found a way, as if the two holes in his skull were pinpoints of guiding light in a world of blackness. Those eyes, unseen.... the ones that dribble words of unconscious damnation.... 'beast'..... -------- Thanks for reading.
This was a gift for a friend. She wanted to test me colouring in anime style, so I drew this for her and coloured it to the best of my ability at the time. Also, I know I am not good at colouring yet, so don't bash me or anything. I am practicing and trying to improve. Media: Photoshop + Mouse Theme: My friend + Deidara You can also see that I went out of my element and tried to make lines, though I had to rush the piece for a contest resulting in many mistakes. I got 3rd place, though, so I was pleasantly surprised. Enjoy.
My first time doodling them. Coloured:
MS Paint + mouse = my favourite.
This is the theme (trailer length) to Star Ocean: Fallen Angels as well as to SpherEternity (Star Ocean ONLINE) - two games-in-the-making from EkIchi that are based on the popular Star Ocean series. The composer of this piece is my brother (with my help). It is lengthy and will appear in many trailers that will be shown in the future. LISTEN HERE Enjoy and stay tuned for more musick tracks from EkIchi.
Hello populations of this forum. I am a new arrival. It is rather unfortunate that I dislike the Kingdom Hearts series as I dub it one of the worst RPG series in history (down there with Final Fantasy and SMT), however I recently discovered something that credited some merit to it: Vexen. Such a gorgeous soul indeed. Upon first glance I was immediatey stricken by his glory and sheer godliness. Anyhow, you may ask me anything you'd like. I'm not shy, but I am very blunt. Sometimes I can be sarcastic and nobody will ever notice so everything is not always as it appears with me. I am the manager and creator of a budding game development team called EkIchi (beneficient blood). I enjoy everything from game design to art to choreography. In my spare time I write songs and sing them with my small band. Pretty much I am always in a creative mood. I am an astral projector. My favourite type of people are cunning, witty, and have extreeme intelligence. Again, glad to be a part of this forum.
A few quick doodles of Asaito and Farseli from one of my team's games in the making. I was trying to get an overall idea of how I wished them to look, so they're not complete drawings, but roughs. Asaito: Farseli (Farsi): Well. Thanks for looking. EDIT: My first post here. A pleasure to be here on the forums.
