|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Mutual Friends - Shibui and Mar Takethra:
Mar was exceedingly displeased with himself – for, as much as he found Marble completely, wholly, and inexorably unable to bear, as much as he could not bear him – how often he, in fact did find the tortoiseshell being borne. Spirits above… the fact that he hadn’t clawed off the tom’s ears yet was completely inexcusable, the chausie reflected as he watched the mottled tom depart him once more, diminishing into the nether end of their tribe’s camp. Insufferable, perfectly insufferable, was his society. Both theirs, in fact – which begged the question why. Why would that excruciatingly compassionate little tom persist in Mar’s own excruciatingly acerbic company? It was unendingly incomprehensible, so stupid.
Which of course lent to his initial quandary of why he hadn’t done anything about it yet. That tom – how he despised him – yet
A Business Relationship Ithe Alcé Valér and Vivian Crowe
Well, he supposed that this was probably his fault.
Not that it’d been his decision to celebrate Ms. Vivian Crowe’s purchase of the arena in the first place, and it was not as though that was a very bad thing in itself; after all, the Airbar was an exquisite, a perfectly exquisite and tasteful venue for just such a celebration, a point where all the panorama of New Vegas could be surveyed from beneath one’s cocktail glass. Still, after the woman’s decorous and moderate purchase of a single Elderberry Fizz, it probably had not been his place to offer her a shot of Grey Goose – even if the underprivileged woman admittedly had never had any before. He himself was only partaking of a Moscatini, favor as he did wine
TGB: You're Gonna Be a Daddy! (SOULBONDCEST) Artistic-Twist:
It had been quite the walk from Light tribe to Earth, but one Neytiri was happy to make. She'd had a hunch about something for a while now. She'd been sure it was right, but she'd slunk away to see the healers just to be certain that morning. There her suspicions had been confirmed, and now every cat who saw her noticed there was a slight skip in her step. She entered the Earth-tribe camp. Her eyes briefly scanned the clearing, till they landed on a large dusty colored tom cat at the corner of the camp, laying in the shade of a bolder. Her Mar. Her mate. With a joyfully prideful look about her, Neytiri made her way over to him. “Marrrr~” She purred, abruptly leaping onto the larger cat's back.
Mar’s ears twitched at the sound of Neytiri’s approach, and his nose twitched at the manifestation of her smell in the Earth Tribe camp – a sanguine tinge in the arom
TGB: Tedious Things Like Manners - Kokkinos + Mar Takethra:
There was a sizeable rock on the outskirts of camp – one of many – a boulder that cast a decent pool of shade from the sun, and did little to deflect the cool, autumnal winter winds from ruffling Mar’s dusty and blood-flecked fur.
Yes, he was cold, in this place of repose, but none of the whelps that were his tribe-mates deigned to be, and so he was quite and happily solitary as he ate in the shadows. All else fancied staying warm in the sun as they milled about camp, keeping their small and fragile bodies un-chilled, lest some supernatural frost come to take their young, weak lives.
He smiled over the red-stained plumage of his kill, green eyes smug over the sight of kits cowering close to a red-furred queen as a gust of wind swept over camp, sending the mat of vines arustle on the hem of the gully.
His ears flicked. Still, this winter was so mild, it was not likely it would relieve his tribe of even its weakest members, s
TGB - Things Fall Apart
2 season-cycles ago, North-Western Nandryx, Pre-Tribal Period
Thistles – though Hubris’d never given them much thought, he didn’t mind them as flowers went, unsightly as they were. Prickly, graceless, guileless – there was an unaffected, honest ugliness about them that pleasured him deeply. Not that he gave them so much thought. There was just something admirable one could observe in their erect, thorny stalks and sickly purple, taloned blooms. Their ugliness didn’t deter the bees at least, and they were only brought down by a few of the swamp’s more hard-paletted herbivores – and so were more than a little prodigious. Unsightly survivors, not unlike himself. Of course this never crossed his mind, even when he was midst the very plants – not having a mind for their kinship with him, but for the prey that warrened amidst them.
It was a lazy afternoon. Hubris’s pelt was half-shade
TGB RP - Battle-Lust - Fadri, Mar, and Neytiri Takethra
Mar was pleased to finally be at it again. It had been a long time since he’d last had a chance for a good battle, since the tribe-cats had driven most of the other rather more hostile creatures out of Nandryx. Of course, the tom he would be in combat with was rather a smaller one, smaller than him, at least, and only a miner, hardly more than a youngling – certainly biting off more than he could chew. And pathetically enough, he was only a primary, in the way of tattoo skill – on top of his unimpressive fighting skills, only able to do little more than make a few seeds grow in winter. What Neytiri saw in the little tom was beyond him. The chausie snorted at the thought. This would be no great fight, but fight it would be, at least, and his claws sank into the earth he walked upon at the thought of it.
Now, where was that little twerp? A tree, he said – that was where he said he would be waiting. But there were many tr
I locked my heart in a mahogany box and threw away the key.
There was no one to care for - there was nothing left for me.
My heart had ceased beating long ago
after years of misery and pain.
Through countless highs and lecherous lows
I became immune to pounding rain.
I walked without even my shadow as a friend.
Numb to all emotions that surfaced to my skin.
Knowing I would be alone to the bitter end
suffering the consequences of sin.
I was shunned and shamed -
bruised and maimed.
No one cared - no one knew.
No one bothered to change my view.
My life was a silent movie
of a language no one spoke.
With plenty of plot holes for all to see
and an ending of mirrors and smoke.
It was getting hard to catch my breath.
Surely death would be oh so sweet.
Addicted to the thought like Crystal Meth,
it skipped through my head like an erratic beat.
She stumbled upon a key that washed up on the shore.
Wondering what it could unlock.
Determined to solve the riddle and explor
RoseThe greatest romance
Lies in your deep crimson color
Your many petals
Softer than skin
Your sharp thorns
Cause me to bleed
My love for you is infinite
The pain you cause me
Is a pleasure
You may be just a flower
But your beauty
Knows no rival
You AreI am the moon,
And you are the sun,
I pale in comparison to you.
I am a student,
And you are a professor.
I cant keep up with you.
I am a snowflake,
And you are a blizzard,
I will never be like you.
I am a tree,
And you are a fire,
You can destroy me easily.
I am a star,
And you are the universe.
You are simply my everything.
I shrug into Harry's shirt
underneath my autumn scarf--
cologne on the cuffs bringing
color as I close my eyes,
the brown of his hair,
laughter, pine green.
Fingers on marbled buttons
smooth as the cream
he puts in his chai.
I think of him like rain on a Sunday,
a slow breath uttered in calm,
eyes shut to listen,
he is peace,
stability in grayer moments.
He is the space in my empty bed
I ache for him the way
I crave prayer and
the feel of a rosary.
Locks of LoveI haven't cut my hair
Since just before
I walked across the stage
Sixteen months ago.
I grew it out
Because, last summer, you loved
To run your fingers
Through its coppery threads.
That always made me feel
When you left for school again in August,
I couldn't bring myself
To get a haircut.
What if you came back,
And this time, my heart was ready for you?
Mid-semester, you told me that,
While you and your friends
Built your school's bonfire,
It was customary
That no one cut his hair
Or even shaved
Until the structure was finished.
I don't think I told you
That I let mine continue to grow
In your honor, except
I didn't cut it on Burn Day.
When we kissed on Christmas Eve,
You weaved your fingers
Through my silken locks
And made me feel beautiful once more.
I still didn't cut my hair,
Even after you left in March,
Save for the split ends
I trimmed in May,
Hoping to eradicate negative energy
But not wanting to let go of you.
Now it's September.
Epiphanyhearken when healing
from the hurt of love hamstrung
the hander of the handkerchief
may be your heart’s hope
If I Were A Love PoetFor my Laban. For my love.
Sometimes, often enough
when my thoughts are consumed
with you- I find myself wishing
that I was a love poet.
Wouldn’t it be beautiful
to piece words together so artistically
that I could make people understand
what it’s like to miss hands
that have never held me?
Wouldn’t it be the damnedest thing,
if I could make a stranger
know how it feels to kiss you?
Sweetly, passionately, softly
Hesitantly- and yet all at once?
Even though their lips have never met yours,
Even though our lips have never met.
How lovely would it be
to sanely, yet romantically
explain to my parents what it’s like
to fall asleep with you?
We could tell them how you giggle when I beg you
to be the big spoon- because I feel like it’s to much responsibility.
We could tell them about the sleepy kisses you give me
at 3 a.m when you find me searching for
thuggish loverno more on love. tell me
instead of the hearts you've
beaten, and the way
they kept on
lukedon't leave me again;
the seasons flutter by with
the blink of spider web eyelashes
twirled around the pieces of
my decaying heart, molded
and renewed with the dawn
of your spring palms.
my senses spark in a
drunken flood of desire;
i refuse to wash away
our finger-painted memories
into the grasping swallow of
an atlantic undertow, but
the stale taste of vodka
sleeps under my palette.
you don't arc your silver
tongue to sip my salted
gums or latch your fists
into bird's nest tangled curls
--anymore, and the shivers
of shadows spin down my
splintered spine, the snap
of a twig between your
i'm alone; your cosmic dreams
and galactic eroticism treads
underneath another damsel's
breast, an arrow to her heart.
I wallow, naked and discarded,
drinking and drowning in the
alcoholic buzz of your sweat
on my tongue, all along knowing
you and i will never love again.
The Heart of a StrayEyes, misty jasper,
A misty sun over mire.
Scars as uneven as the broken metro tracks,
But like tracks they lead to somewhere,
Running parallel to a scarred heart.
Paws and a broken tail that bleed,
The scent of sorrow and happiness,
Mingling on a grey pelt, ledger of fear and anger
And fought-for hopes wrote red on skin.
Eyes, the misty jasper, the misty sun,
That look away and back, and away again.
Eyes as round as a wheel, a marble, a life,
Perfect in all its scars and self-smote red,
Perfect in all its imperfections, perfect,
Because two broken parts can make a whole,
Broken parts like cracked ice
Merging in the frost of winter, broken, but
Perfect, and sad and fearful, and hopeful
And finding peace, finally finding peace.
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More