|Works that I've featured as Daily Deviations, both as a volunteer and deviantART staff.|
A New CatOur neighborhood stray is dead. I know thisA New Cat by wreckling
because there is a black cat here I've never seen.
This cat is not the black splotch covered canvas stray
that clawed up and down my arm last winter
when I mistakenly tried to wrap it in a blanket
for warmth. This cat does not have the matted
fur that the stray did, does not deliberately stretch
out in front of my car tires the way the stray did
right before I had to leave for work, does not
chase lizards in the grass like the stray. This is not
the stray that aggressively meowed at me
when he wanted affection, nor is it the stray
that climbed our fence to try catching birds.
I'm certain this new cat must be lost, or else
looking for that same blotched canvas stray
that had become part of his family, too.
Lightbringer“We’ve got about half an hour until daybreak. The light panel is up and running, so you can begin, lightbringer!”Lightbringer by wreckling
Kenta closed his eyes to the stars and breathed in through his nose before exhaling sharply out of his mouth. His hands were trembling. When he breathed in next, the stars came with it, pinpricks of light jumping to his fingers, toes, arms, legs, and even his face and hair. Every part of his body seemed to be engulfed in blue light, except his closed eyes. Once the light had gathered, he exhaled through his mouth once again, and the light throughout his body shifted to his left arm until it was contained between his fingertips and his elbow. When he opened his eyes, the sky was only slightly darker than it had been. He did not look at his left arm.
Turning away from the stars, he faced a small white pedestal that came up to his waist. On the top of the pedestal was a small black panel, and he placed his left hand on it, closing his eyes and breathing ou
BarristerHe'd been in town three weeks, on the case for two, and still only had a single lead. No one in Los Diablos was talking, outside of formalities. He was an outsider, and he knew they considered him as such, but for as much frustration as the town was causing him by not talking, there was one person in the town causing him even more trouble, the one he needed to meet, the one he couldn't even seem to find.Barrister by wreckling
Franky Barrister never answered his door. Franky Barrister didn't have a phone. Franky Barrister always seemed to be on a bathroom break during school hours, but was never in the bathroom. On Fridays, Franky Barrister wasn't at school at all. The trouble was that the investigation the detective was working on was regarding the death of Alan BarristerFranky's father. Everyone in town pointed the finger at Franky, and with his constant absence, the detective could see why. Franky was not doing anything at all to prove himself innocent, and if not for a complete lack of evidence, th
Torumaru and the Bullies Somewhere outside the window, the ocean rushed along the coast, waves breaking as fishing boats cut between them, creating new crests on the water in the push to reach the fish. Seafoam scattered in the air, a flash of white among the marine layer, before dissolving in the in between, not quite water, not quite sky. On the other side of the window, in a small room of a small home in Urayasu, Torumaru rolled over and fell out of his bed. Stunned into awareness, he stood up and jerked his head about, blearily taking in his room. His gray eyes rested on his own reflection, and he noticed his black hair hanging in a mess just above his eyebrows as he tried to make sense of the gold tint his face seemed to have. He squinted and frowned until he registered his own name; the wall he stared at held a small, engraved golden plaque which read: “Congratulations to the new Judo Club Captain, Torumaru Kamimura”. On reading tTorumaru and the Bullies by wreckling
AdamI, first feeling this sunken heat, firstAdam by wreckling
scraping this grain desert, first
sitting under verdant walls, I
first touching these rooted crags, first
tripping in the mountain's gloam, first
reaching this brackish fountain, I
first holding the ocean, first
drinking its salt poison, first
sinking to my knees, I
first trying to understand, I
first trying to speak
Sun WukongI am rock-heavy, quiet, half-Sun Wukong by wreckling
minded, world-strong. The sun bursts
with my light, not the other way round.
This sky's my breath, this earth
my monkey fist. Past that, feet, my
feet, become what they scrape, and that
in turn becomes mine. The stars
pale to my fire-eyes, my golden sight,
I can strong-arm the cosmos. You won't
change these things, same as a five-pillar
cage could not. Mountains can't hold me
past five hundred years, and I'll play
tricks, even after. This adventure
makes us, not you, not me. Today, I am
rock-heavy, quiet, world-strong, and
empty, and this is defined through you.
Thank You for a Successful April Fools' DayHappy April Fools' Day!Thank You for a Successful April Fools' Day by madizzlee
Last week we set out to prank deviants by introducing a new and completely fake technology: thoughtART! With some hard work and a little magic from dT, thoughtART came to life.
The Idea Behind The Technology
For this project, we were inspired by the advanced technology in "Her," a movie about a new artificially intelligent operating system. After a ton of discussions, we decided to introduce a new piece of technology that can sync with deviants' brainwaves to search for or create art. In actuality, a drawing was selected at random from a group of deviations created beforehand by deviantART staff members using deviantART muro. When users saw the art being created with their minds, they were actually watching deviantART muro redraw the artwork.
At midnight on April 2
Wild Hunt :: LongmaLike any good story, this one does not begin where it began. It does, however, begin where it endsat a funeral.Wild Hunt :: Longma by CorpseWyrm
The village was not particularly big. Rather, it was frightfully small, and just as frightfully remote. That said, it was little surprise that every denizen turned out for something so important as the funeral of a good man.
and it truly was each and every one: every man, woman, and child; every son, brother, and father; every maiden, mother, and crone. It was said even the dogs followed at the heels of their masters, even the songbirds gathered in the trees, and the livestock unable to free themselves from their pens bowed their heads in respect. But the story that is still told to this day was how the most notable guest at the funeral of Bai Huan was his finest (and only) stallion.
* * * * *
A long way from the village (but not nearly far enough) a
Inferno's Touch -0-PrologueInferno's Touch -0- by Magic-fan
"You are putting yourself in danger."
A metal door screeched in strain as a slim-fingered hand pushed it open. Sunlight streamed through the fluffy white clouds as a human form stepped onto the roof. The young woman walked forward, remnants of snowy patches crunching beneath her grey and purple sneakers. Squinting at the light, she moved to a nearby ladder and clung to it. Chills raked her body, igniting where her skin met the frosty metal.
Arriving at the top of the small overhang, the woman kneeled at the edge; the undisturbed snow clung to her jeans. Crisp winter air nipped at her cheeks and fingertips, furthering the cold that plagued her. Her soft breaths became water particles in the air and her thin spring jacket did little to protect her from winter's remnants.
"Ann, you know what will happen if you continue."
Ann unfurled her fingers from the large bag she held in her left hand and set it on the cement platform. She unzipped it and pulled the contents ou
The Clocksmith Chapter OneThe sun was not yet up, though the sky had turned the colorless hue that heralds sunrise. The tops of trees still budding could be seen as stark shadows against the sky, a testament to the light that would soon return to the world. From somewhere in the predawn fog, the forlorn sound of a train echoed into the dark station. Gradually, the rhythmic chugging of the engine's wheels became more audible, and the large iron beast came into view. The train came to rest in the station, steam blowing out of its smokestack.The Clocksmith Chapter One by Captain-Random
"Pine Harbor!" the conductor shouted drearily, half-expecting no one to get off. Peter stepped alone off the passenger car and looked around. Home at last, he thought wryly. Not that there was anything in particular to look forward to. Swinging his father's battered top hat onto his head, he walked out of the station and into the road.
At this hour, Pine Harbor lay in the midst of the fore
The Broken WallMilo woke up one morning in a different bed than the one he had gone to sleep in. Even so, the bed he was in now was still his own. He looked up at the ceiling and saw patterns there that he had never seen before and yet he knew they would be there. Sunlight slanted through the window in a line different from what he had expected.The Broken Wall by norui
He spent the rest of the late morning wandering through the house. It was full of knick-knacks from places he was sure he had been. Every thing that he found there was his. Every thing that he found there was new to him.
In a daze, he sat down at the kitchen table. His mind was running, but it was buzzing, too. He couldn't keep his thoughts straight or even pick them out of the eternal hum. It was as if his mind was deliberately keeping him from thinking too much.
Outside he found a garden, full of plants he loved. Down a path he found a bench around a huge oak tree. He suddenly had a vague memory of having planted it, but that could not be possible. He sat d
Lover on top of a mountainThey who scale mountainsLover on top of a mountain by mySeity
content themselves with the feeling
of love, not confirmed
with action. They can fly the arrow- never mistake- truer
than any romantic. But
height is a lofty mistress, and the
keenness of the wind is
ever seductive, because it whistles
the story clearly that gets
Who -wants- to get mangled?
We are not beasts of burden, even if
we've worn this fur for thousands of years.
To dive from the clean, clean edge into
chaos is unthinkable.
To frolic among the tumbling bodies
and risk trampling and being trampled
is enough to curl back and reach
for the highminded pleasures
Oh, but such a dream
veiling a cliff's face
eventually reveals itself to
appear only to those who
fall from the sky. So the lover
spends all her time devising paths
to those below. She braids the ropes
and drops the chains, even taking a sledgehammer
to the rocks for a perilous winding road
but the danger she
undermines, and it is
few who exceed the intimacy of
Ode IV.She was a sixty-eight-year-old lady with fluffy grey hair and an old-fashioned nightdress under her white johnny gown. My tutor was her neurologist and that afternoon he asked me to help him out filming some "cool signs". When you're a fourth-year medical student, you're all for cool signs.Ode IV. by Exillior
My job was not complicated. It involved me holding the camera, pressing a button then keeping my hands steady for three minutes, while my tutor ran the sweet old lady through the neurological exam. I peeked above the camera and spied on the procedure. It was a running joke among my three other colleagues and I who shared the same tutor that he was a brooding Ian Somerhalder, twenty years down the line. Picture Ian Somerhalder carrying out a neurological examination. You'd peek over the camera, too.
My colleague assisted with the examination. It started off with inspection. She had abnormal posture in her left arm, held too close to her despite my tutor asking her to hold her arms out by her side, bu
|Works that I've featured as Daily Deviations, both as a volunteer and deviantART staff.|
(Thiefoworld made that image up there, you should commission him if you'd like one!)|
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