oeming:

Captain America con sketch

It kinda looks like he’s fighting off a dalek.

oeming:

Captain America con sketch

It kinda looks like he’s fighting off a dalek.

theomeganerd:

Mario Propaganda Posters

by Fro Design Company

The Lost

The Forever Night, chapter XIV
~in which we rejoin two fuzzy things, and a man in scales~
fwing-thwack.fwing-thwack.
Aaah! It was a sound that resembled a yelp, though it wasn’t produced by a human being.  It came from something furry and brown–something that was once a man, but had quite recently observed a dramatic metamorphosis.  It came from a raccoon–a raccoon that could speak.
“Are you nuts!” yelped the raccoon.  ”Those could’ve killed me!”
“Relax, Randy.”  It was another raccoon that spoke, equally as brown and furry as the other.  His name was Robby.  ”I don’t think Peter would’ve missed–if he was trying to kill us I mean.  You saw what he did to those gray things.”

“Right,” said Randy.  ”I knew that.”

Only moments before, Peter–the slayer of what the raccoons called ‘those gray things’– had reached into the uppermost flaps of his lizard-hide boots and pulled out three short, slightly curved knives–they appeared to be made of bone, much like the two longer blades he now had stowed in sheaves on his back.  The scale-clad man had then thrown two of the three short blades–they whizzed and twirled past the heads of the two raccoons as they met the base of a splintered tree.
“Take those,” he said, “and help me.” Peter knelt down to the carcasses of the gray beasts and put his bone knife to their scales, skinning them in smooth, long gestures. He looked back up at the raccoons. “Well?”
Robby and Randy turned around and dislodged their respective knives from the tree.
“Umm.” Randy turned the blade over in his hands, gingerly testing its point with one of his fuzzy digits. “We don’t know how–to skin, I mean.”
“We were just bankers back home,” Robby added.
Peter paused his skinning and thought about that for a moment. “You need to learn,” he said. “It helps survive. I will teach you.” He pushed his wide-brimmed hat off the front of his head, and then sorted his shaggy brown hair out of his face. With hat and hair out of the way, it was easy to see how grizzled his face had become during his years of isolation on this world–criss-crossed scars, patchy burns, and a day’s worth of stubble on his face, rough from repeated, angered shaving.
The raccoons took seats near him, at their own dead reptiles–the massive, spiny things that Peter had called ‘Eaters.’ Carefully, Peter showed them the proper way to hold their knives, the gentle, yet deliberate, motions they needed to take the blade against the scales, what sort of skin they needed to strip away. When they had removed a modest amount of hide, Peter began gathering leaves and crushing them, at times mixing them with water he carried in a bone hip-flask.
“Their hides, what do we need them for?” asked Robby.
Peter looked up from his leafy mixture, which had become more of a bowl of thick, green soup. “This place,” said Peter, then paused. It had been a long time since he even entertained the chance of an opportunity to explain this land to another.  It had been been quite a bit longer since he had someone to speak to.   Peter wasn’t certain he could’ve explained this world then.  Was he capable of doing so now?  It took him a while to find the proper words, but he eventually mustered an explanation that seemed appropriate.  ”This place has been around for a long time. Too long maybe–I think it was here long before anything else existed–before any of the other worlds out there, I mean.  I knew a man, once, who told me that it was simply just called ‘Before,’ though there were other beings out there who had called it the place of The Lost.”
“So,” Randy interrupted, “there are other people here.”
“No.” Peter shook his head. “There was just one other man. He was here when I arrived, and was gone soon after. He saved my life.”
“He taught you to survive,” observed Robby.
Peter nodded. “Yes. That’s correct.” The familiarity of words, the camaraderie from saying another’s name, it was a rather nice. Peter continued, “This place, I think, was a garden once, full of many creatures, diverse and plenty. But then there were also these reptilian things–what you had the misfortune of encountering–and they are zealous predators. They hunted the other wildlife to extinction, consuming all the meat they could. Eventually, they were the only things left–you understand how that can be problematic for an ecosystem.
“Centuries turned to millennia, to eons, and there were some that died of hunger–their population did thin–but there was an offshoot of their kind, more human-like, but still not quite human. They were nomadic, and they found ways off this world. Occasionally they brought things back–other beings and animals for the Eaters to consumer–that’s how both have been able to survive up until now.
“But their homogeneity left many weaknesses over the years. Their own scent is unrecognizable to one another–they just smell Eater and they know it’s another one of their kind, but they don’t know who exactly the scent belongs to.”
The raccoons looked at the nearly bare creatures they had been skinning, then back at Peter, who was dressed in their scales.
“That’s why you could hunt them down so easily,” said Robby. “They don’t realize you’re coming–they can smell you, but you’re just another one of their kind.”
Peter answered by grabbing the scaly hides from the raccoons. “And so now will the two of you.” Peter began to smear the green leaf-soup onto the hides. “Camouflage,” he said. “Just in case.  The other ones–the Walkers–they’re sentient, and they know I’m here. I’ve been around too long to still be a secret, though there are still some who believe I’m only a myth.” Peter grinned. “I guess you can say I’ve become somewhat of a boogie man to their kind.” He finished painting the husks of ‘Eater’ scales. “There. That will have to do for now.” He held up the skins, which looked more like long blankets than clothing. “No time to tailor them. You will have to wear them like robes.” Peter tossed them to the raccoons, who then proceeded to wrap themselves in their new clothing.
“These smell,” said Randy.
“I suppose that means they work,” said Robby, “or our new noses are just keener to it.” He looked at Peter for some kind of validation.
Peter shrugged. “Maybe. I’m used to it, I guess. Been a long time since I’ve worn anything else.” And it had, indeed, been a long time. “Like I said, though. We need to go. There’s someone we need to see.”
“I thought you said there’s no one else here,” said Randy, always the skeptic.
“He isn’t here,” answered Peter, “and he isn’t human. I’m finally getting off this world, and I’m taking you two with me.”
To be continued next Monday (hopefully)…

View Post

The Lost

Chapter 14 cover copyThe Forever Night, chapter XIV

~in which we rejoin two fuzzy things, and a man in scales~

fwing-thwack.
fwing-thwack.

Aaah! It was a sound that resembled a yelp, though it wasn’t produced by a human being.  It came from something furry and brown–something that was once a man, but had quite recently observed a dramatic metamorphosis.  It came from a raccoon–a raccoon that could speak.

“Are you nuts!” yelped the raccoon.  ”Those could’ve killed me!”

“Relax, Randy.”  It was another raccoon that spoke, equally as brown and furry as the other.  His name was Robby.  ”I don’t think Peter would’ve missed–if he was trying to kill us I mean.  You saw what he did to those gray things.”

“Right,” said Randy.  ”I knew that.”

Only moments before, Peter–the slayer of what the raccoons called ‘those gray things’– had reached into the uppermost flaps of his lizard-hide boots and pulled out three short, slightly curved knives–they appeared to be made of bone, much like the two longer blades he now had stowed in sheaves on his back.  The scale-clad man had then thrown two of the three short blades–they whizzed and twirled past the heads of the two raccoons as they met the base of a splintered tree.

“Take those,” he said, “and help me.” Peter knelt down to the carcasses of the gray beasts and put his bone knife to their scales, skinning them in smooth, long gestures. He looked back up at the raccoons. “Well?”

Robby and Randy turned around and dislodged their respective knives from the tree.

“Umm.” Randy turned the blade over in his hands, gingerly testing its point with one of his fuzzy digits. “We don’t know how–to skin, I mean.”

“We were just bankers back home,” Robby added.

Peter paused his skinning and thought about that for a moment. “You need to learn,” he said. “It helps survive. I will teach you.” He pushed his wide-brimmed hat off the front of his head, and then sorted his shaggy brown hair out of his face. With hat and hair out of the way, it was easy to see how grizzled his face had become during his years of isolation on this world–criss-crossed scars, patchy burns, and a day’s worth of stubble on his face, rough from repeated, angered shaving.

The raccoons took seats near him, at their own dead reptiles–the massive, spiny things that Peter had called ‘Eaters.’ Carefully, Peter showed them the proper way to hold their knives, the gentle, yet deliberate, motions they needed to take the blade against the scales, what sort of skin they needed to strip away. When they had removed a modest amount of hide, Peter began gathering leaves and crushing them, at times mixing them with water he carried in a bone hip-flask.

“Their hides, what do we need them for?” asked Robby.

Peter looked up from his leafy mixture, which had become more of a bowl of thick, green soup. “This place,” said Peter, then paused. It had been a long time since he even entertained the chance of an opportunity to explain this land to another.  It had been been quite a bit longer since he had someone to speak to.   Peter wasn’t certain he could’ve explained this world then.  Was he capable of doing so now?  It took him a while to find the proper words, but he eventually mustered an explanation that seemed appropriate.  ”This place has been around for a long time. Too long maybe–I think it was here long before anything else existed–before any of the other worlds out there, I mean.  I knew a man, once, who told me that it was simply just called ‘Before,’ though there were other beings out there who had called it the place of The Lost.”

“So,” Randy interrupted, “there are other people here.”

“No.” Peter shook his head. “There was just one other man. He was here when I arrived, and was gone soon after. He saved my life.”

“He taught you to survive,” observed Robby.

Peter nodded. “Yes. That’s correct.” The familiarity of words, the camaraderie from saying another’s name, it was a rather nice. Peter continued, “This place, I think, was a garden once, full of many creatures, diverse and plenty. But then there were also these reptilian things–what you had the misfortune of encountering–and they are zealous predators. They hunted the other wildlife to extinction, consuming all the meat they could. Eventually, they were the only things left–you understand how that can be problematic for an ecosystem.

“Centuries turned to millennia, to eons, and there were some that died of hunger–their population did thin–but there was an offshoot of their kind, more human-like, but still not quite human. They were nomadic, and they found ways off this world. Occasionally they brought things back–other beings and animals for the Eaters to consumer–that’s how both have been able to survive up until now.

“But their homogeneity left many weaknesses over the years. Their own scent is unrecognizable to one another–they just smell Eater and they know it’s another one of their kind, but they don’t know who exactly the scent belongs to.”

The raccoons looked at the nearly bare creatures they had been skinning, then back at Peter, who was dressed in their scales.

“That’s why you could hunt them down so easily,” said Robby. “They don’t realize you’re coming–they can smell you, but you’re just another one of their kind.”

Peter answered by grabbing the scaly hides from the raccoons. “And so now will the two of you.” Peter began to smear the green leaf-soup onto the hides. “Camouflage,” he said. “Just in case.  The other ones–the Walkers–they’re sentient, and they know I’m here. I’ve been around too long to still be a secret, though there are still some who believe I’m only a myth.” Peter grinned. “I guess you can say I’ve become somewhat of a boogie man to their kind.” He finished painting the husks of ‘Eater’ scales. “There. That will have to do for now.” He held up the skins, which looked more like long blankets than clothing. “No time to tailor them. You will have to wear them like robes.” Peter tossed them to the raccoons, who then proceeded to wrap themselves in their new clothing.

“These smell,” said Randy.

“I suppose that means they work,” said Robby, “or our new noses are just keener to it.” He looked at Peter for some kind of validation.

Peter shrugged. “Maybe. I’m used to it, I guess. Been a long time since I’ve worn anything else.” And it had, indeed, been a long time. “Like I said, though. We need to go. There’s someone we need to see.”

“I thought you said there’s no one else here,” said Randy, always the skeptic.

“He isn’t here,” answered Peter, “and he isn’t human. I’m finally getting off this world, and I’m taking you two with me.”

To be continued next Monday (hopefully)…

View Post

thatchickcanwrite:

pageofmelody:

chesiresailboats:

wolfenartistofhetalia:

proudgayconservative:

pepperbear:

frostbackscat:

I humanized the Magic School Bus, since it’s Ms Frizzle’s TARDIS equivalent! I mean, she IS a Timelord right? And the cliche of overused references ensued!

SDTGJRGGHSORIFUSAEHFEufAEOFIUROSIGSG;oidfgodsirgnzdlNigoSJFGOSDIFGLSRGS

dsak;lfjads;lgkjateg;lijag!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m so happy!

its back on my dash

wow she certainly is 
busty



holy crap

thatchickcanwrite:

pageofmelody:

chesiresailboats:

wolfenartistofhetalia:

proudgayconservative:

pepperbear:

frostbackscat:

I humanized the Magic School Bus, since it’s Ms Frizzle’s TARDIS equivalent! I mean, she IS a Timelord right? And the cliche of overused references ensued!

SDTGJRGGHSORIFUSAEHFEufAEOFIUROSIGSG;oidfgodsirgnzdlNigoSJFGOSDIFGLSRGS

dsak;lfjads;lgkjateg;lijag!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m so happy!

its back on my dash

wow she certainly is 

busty

image

holy crap

thesanityclause:

I was just doodling and Lettie Hempstock turned up. What a lovely character.

thesanityclause:

I was just doodling and Lettie Hempstock turned up. What a lovely character.

(via neil-gaiman)

Seriously, though guys…

thatchickcanwrite:

https://sphotos-b-sjc.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/66483_10200410348525667_1697868277_n.jpg

Barns & Noble responded to my query letter about Wolf Song!
If I can get more purchases and reviews for my book on Amazon they’ll add my book to their order list! (basically I have to prove it’s worth their time).
Please, please, PLEASE pick up a copy, paperback or kindle and/or write a review for me. Even if you don’t have the time/money to do so, please forward and reblog this to help me spread the word.
This is literally all I have ever wanted in my whole life!

skottieyoung:

Daenerys #wizardworldchicago

skottieyoung:

Daenerys #wizardworldchicago

skottieyoung:

Hellboy #wizardworldchicago

skottieyoung:

Hellboy #wizardworldchicago

skottieyoung:

Dream #wizardworldchicago

skottieyoung:

Dream #wizardworldchicago