PicturingsGo

Chatterbox: Chirp at Cricket

PicturingsGo

Picturings

Good old fashioned, written picturings. I will be doing them as I please of whoever happens to be on my mind.  Anyone else can do them on here too, however only written picturings. I'm sorry if I portray you wrong in appearance/gender/ethnicity. I will be writing you first imagined you when I read your name. For example, I originally thought that HAB (Hot Air Balloon) was a girl. I imagine Tuxedo Kitten just as her name sounds: As a kitten. However, Coconut the Dog still looks like a person in my mind, and I don't see Claaws as the dragon she is on many RPs. 

I will start when this shows up. 

Thanks for reading. 

~Embers in the Ashes

submitted by Embers in the Ashes, Scribbling Away at a Book
(February 21, 2017 - 9:00 am)

back to the Chirp at Cricket

Wow, these are beautiful. Good job!

submitted by Cockleburr
(February 21, 2017 - 10:11 pm)

 

Caroline~

There is a tiger prowling the jungle. She is the color of a candle flame, orange and yellow and-

"No!" Yelled the girl, throwing the paper from her desk. 

This was Caroline's tenth attempt at writing the opening lines to her book, A Wild Kingdom, yet she still could not get it right. She could see the entire thing in her head: The tiger would walk through the dense jungle, crunch down and then leap on it's prey, devouring the bloody carcass before the poor animal even knew what hit it. But the words just wouldn't come. 

Some curly blond locks fell into Carolines mouth, and she chewed them in contemplation. Her green eyes were shut at the moment, thinking. She played the scene back through her mind, and realized what was wrong with the scene.

She put her hands over the keys of the old typewriter and once again began her book. 

There is a tiger prowling the jungle. It is all the shades of a burning fire, red and orange and even yellow in the early light. The tiger pounces, and when her feet hit the ground of the forest she is no longer a tiger but a girl.

"Yes!" Caroline yells, triumphant. But then she hears the voice of her mother coming from downstairs. 

"Caro honey! Time for school!"

Carolin ran down the stairs, and when she reached the bottom she was no longer a girl-

But a tiger. 

For people always say, write what you know. 

submitted by Embers in the Ashes
(February 22, 2017 - 6:44 am)

If you don't already have too many requests, could I please have one? Thanks in advance, these are so good!

submitted by elementgirl18917
(February 22, 2017 - 6:54 am)

Wow, these are really good!

submitted by Nighthawk/Ember
(February 22, 2017 - 9:44 am)

Wow, thanks Embers! I love it! I've actually had a very similar picturing to that before.

submitted by The Riddler
(February 22, 2017 - 9:59 am)
submitted by top
(February 22, 2017 - 6:40 pm)

I'm working on a few, will hopefully get them done by tonight.

submitted by Embers in the Ashes
(February 23, 2017 - 6:17 am)

These are so good! Do you think you could do me? If you don't have too many requests already. Thank you!

submitted by Cockleburr
(February 23, 2017 - 10:01 am)
Booksy Owly~
There is girl on the playground, but unlike the others this girl isn't running around or laughing or playing. This girl is open to a page in her book, her eyes behind the prison walls of their glasses anxiously awaiting the next turn of the page, wondering when this remarkable plot twist will end. Some of the other kids stare at her, but most of them just go on their way, used to her introverted behavior. The girl finally reaches the chapter’s end, closing her book and shoving it back in her book bag. She stands, brushing the leaves and dirt off of her plaid skirt and straightening the stockings and her Mary-Jane shoes. She rather disliked her school uniform, but at least she could climb trees in it. 
She got up just in time to hear the bell ring, signifying the end of recess and the next class’ beginning. 
So Booksy ran to class, hoping- no, praying- that it wasn't Algebra 2. 
Cockleburr~
Two sisters are hiking through the densely forested wilderness. The smaller, younger one has curly long brown hair and dark brown eyes, that remind one of a deer’s. The older sister has curly blond hair contained in a bandana and dark eyes, not unlike her sister’s. She's tall, and strong in the arms. This girl wears long pants and a t-shirt despite the summer heat, the jeans carefully tucked into her hiking boots. 
“How much further?” The younger girl asks, swatting at a mosquito trying to find a way onto her bare leg. 
“Not too far,” responded Cockleburr. She glanced at her sister’s mosquito predicament, “I thought I told you not to wear shorts.”
“Well, it's just so hot outside. I don't know how you manage with those jeans.”
Cockleburr shrugged. 
“You get used to it.”
The hiked a bit further, as the trail in front of them got narrower and narrower. 
Soon, the older girl saw the tall spire of a house and she began running. The smaller girl noticed it too, and followed Cockleburr along the winding path that led out of the forest. Soon, Cockleburr emerged onto their family’s property, jogging up to the front porch of their large farmhouse. She sat on the creaking wood, panting. 
“I win,” she said in between breaths as her younger sister approached, “You clean the chicken coop this evening.”
Joan B. of Arc~
Two swords clash together- parry, lunge, retreat, parry. Watching the two fencers go at each other is like watching an odd, beautiful dance, where when one person moves the other does as well, each trying to get a strike at the other. Finally, the left fencer gets a final point, winning the match. She takes of her metallic mesh helmet, revealing a grinning girl. She has dark hair which she’s attempted to keep in a ponytail and stormy blue eyes. A thin scar runs down the right side of her face, disrupting it’s silent beauty. But the scar has a beauty of it’s own, it seems, like the beauty of a predator in the wild. 
“You may shake hands,” says a voice that seems to come from nowhere. 
Joan does, walking to the boy who she just beat. As she shakes his hand, she compliments him on coming so far, on how great he must be to have gotten to where he now stands. He says it was a pleasure to have such a worthy opponent. 
Then the two break apart from each other, and we once again hear the disembodied voice. 
“Let me announce the winner of the gold medal for Olympic Fencing, Joan B!”
submitted by Embers in the Ashes, Sitting in a Well
(February 23, 2017 - 6:38 pm)

Spot on! I love it, Embers! Haha, how did you know I was dreading Algebra 2 next year?

submitted by Booksy Owly
(February 23, 2017 - 8:06 pm)

Oh my goodness, thank you so much! I love it! I love it so much! *hugs Embers in the Ashes* Thank you! Oh my gosh, you are a beautiful writer! Thank you so much!

submitted by Cockleburr
(February 23, 2017 - 10:21 pm)

I LOVE IT!!!! 

Thank you Ember!!  
submitted by Joan B. of Arc, age 14, Camelot
(February 24, 2017 - 2:08 pm)

I'd love one, if at all possible! :)

submitted by Leeli
(February 23, 2017 - 7:49 pm)

Thank you so much for mine! I do actually have a typewriter that I use sometimes... how did you know?

submitted by Caroline
(February 23, 2017 - 10:59 pm)

You just seem like a typwriter person :)

submitted by Embers in the Ashes
(February 24, 2017 - 6:19 am)
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