Contest Entry - Reflections - Part 3 -REFLECTIONS - An Amber Hunt Story.Contest Entry - Reflections - Part 3 - by Raqonteur
By John Paul Dodds.
Part 3 - Stirring The Ashes
I sort of half jogged on my way back, carrying the Mermaid gingerly. Moll might run everywhere, but the corridors of the Summer Palace were still a maze to me and I didn't want to miss a turning. Getting lost would be pretty inexplicable. Which gave me an idea.
I pulled up and looked at the Mermaid. It appeared little more than an empty picture frame, but at my touch it sprang to life. A silhouette of a mermaid appeared first as the thinking engine inside it woke up, and a password page. I entered Moll's code and a search page appeared. I typed in Summer Palace Plans, rather slowly and awkwardly, I admit. A number of options appeared and I selected one at random. Photographs in full colour sprang up. Not the grainy, often blurred, phosphorescent smelling black and white ones that were the newest thing back in... back home in Kitholme, I remind
Bite Me!Have you ever stared into the jaws of a hungry T-Rex?Bite Me! by Raqonteur
I have. And it's not a pleasant experience, let me tell you. Nor is it one that you're likely to live long enough to reminisce about.
For a start, you're paralysed with fear. Terror. Pant-wetting, abject terror. Your mind goes into overdrive, but it's not looking for a way out. It's way, way too late for that. It's trying to distract itself from what it knows is coming next.
And that leads to the sensory overload. The breath itself is almost forceful enough to knock you over. And the smell. Raw meat. Hours. Days. Even weeks old. You spot shreds of it caught between the teeth. Those huge, fang-like molars. Dripping thick, sticky saliva. They don't look as sharp as you imagined they would. They don't need to be. The sheer force of a jaw that's bigger than you are would shred pretty much anything it bites into.
It takes a d
|To celebrate the forming of this group, I've joined forces with and to host a joint contest.|
The crux of the contest is to crossover your OC with any of the settings (below) created by these three authors;
You can do this in several ways;
* You can show your character in the setting, with a recognisable background from the setting
* You can show your character dressed in the fashions of a setting
* You can show your OC interacting in some manner with one or more of the canon characters from the setting.
The contest is open to both visual artists (traditonal or digital art, photomanipulation, cosplay, etc) and Literature artists.
Here is the link to the original contest journal
Request - What Are Little Girl's Made OfWhat Are Little Girl's Made Of?
By John Paul Dodds
Oh God! I was going to be late for class. Again. Third time this week. That evil little troll, Professor Mandrake, would have my hide if I was late again. I'd be up in front of the dean without a doubt. I mean he wasn't really a troll, he was human like most of the professors. But all the students thought of him that way.
I pelted across the university grounds, my long hair flying out behind me and only my hand keeping my trademark red, winged cap from flying off into the wide blue yonder. I screeched round a sharp corner, barely keeping my feet and spotted Nansu, Carme and Kai waiting for me on the university steps. I looked across a second. Only a second, I swear. To wave at them. And went down in a sudden tumble of flailing limbs as I crashed into something or someone.
I hit the ground with a thump that knocked the air out of me, sort of turned it into a graceless roll and grabbed at my satchel which had gone flying. I
Literature Request - A Prince Among MenA Prince Among Men
by John Paul Dodds
“Cor. 'Ark at 'er. She's like a bloody house-end. Ere, luv. Oo ate all the pies”. I span round angrily at the boys' taunts. But they weren't aimed at me. A young girl sat in the street, head down and her hands clasped over her ears. She was larger than I had ever been at that age, but that was neither here nor there. Setting my shoulders I started to stride angrily over and give the young boys a piece of my mind.
But someone else got there first. The carriage pulled up short, horses chomping at the bit, in front of the shocked boys. The royal crest in full view. The prince, a handsome, dark haired young man leaned out and started to tell the boys off, before sending them packing with a royal clip around the ear.
He looked up and our eyes met. We just stared at each other for a moment. Then, beginning to blush and no longer able to meet my eyes, Prince Edwin ducked back into the carriage, which drove off. And well that he
Commission - Skool DayzCOMMISSION – SKOOL DAYZ
By John Paul Dodds
“I'M NOT GOING TO SCHOOL”, I declared in a tantrum from the top of the stairs. I stamped my foot. I'll be honest, I felt a little silly, like I was massively overacting but then I was supposed to be a ten year old girl.
Let me explain. My name is... was Sam. Samuel... God, I always hated being called Samuel. It usually meant I was in trouble. Sam Savage. I was a college student studying computer science. I always liked computers, they made so much more sense than people. I say was, because Sam died in a road accident in 2015. Hit by a truck and killed instantly.
But that was just the start of my problems. I woke up, which came as a surprise in itself. More of a surprise was the fact that I woke up in the body of a ten year old girl. But that wasn't the end of it either. In a long, convoluted story, I eventually realised not only was I alive an
Commission - Second Chances: First Time AroundSECOND CHANCES; FIRST TIME AROUND.
By John Paul Dodds
The bed felt huge. The mattress was firm, hard even, and covered with harsh cotton sheets that were cold to the touch when I moved. There was a lingering smell of disinfectant in the air. I blinked and opened my eyes. Artificial white light flooded into them feeling like it seared my very brain.
Memories surged up. Headlights blinding me in the rain and the dark. The bike skidding uncontrollably beneath me. The tortured screech of brakes and the smell of asphalt and burning rubber. The sheer, terrifying size and mass of the truck; Death on eighteen wheels.
I screamed, screwing my eyes shut and threw my arms up over my face instinctively. It came out strangled and high pitched, like a little girl's, and choked off as my dry throat rasped and set me to coughing badly enough to leave me gasping for breath.
Alarms were going off. I could hear people scrambling into action clos
|Just a little bit of shameless self promotion here.|
There are some wonderful DAers out there who give up their time and effort to sift through the millions upon millions of entries on this site and pick out a few of what they believe to be the best.
It's an amazing feeling to log on and find one of your pieces has suddenly, out of nowhere, been selected to be featured in that way. So I thought I'd share those features here.
Artist feature 2 - Junsorry guys xD didn't manage to wait any longer maybe I'll make 2 features pr. month.. hmmm.. we'll just see, right
dA Literature : Prose (#4)Power to the Prose
Daily Lit Recognition for April 7, 2015Daily Lit Recognition for April 7th, 2015
This is different to the contest prize features which you can see here raqonteur.deviantart.com/favou…
|I've gotten a lot out of the DeviantArt Community, it's time to put something back. I plan on using any donated points either to run further contests or to commision pieces from other artists and thus support them.|