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Written Picturings!
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Written Picturings!
Written Picturings!
Because there are totally not way too many of these already (:
There's no form. Pronouns and anything else you want to tell me, i.e. favorite color or appearance. I won'd garentee you'll be a person, I might write you as a creature or a place, going mostly off your name (or whatever else you tell me).
submitted by Hex
(September 28, 2022 - 10:34 am)
(September 28, 2022 - 10:34 am)
I'll take one. She/her..I like wolves, ghosts, anime, fantasy and the colors black and red.
(September 29, 2022 - 5:09 pm)
At the peak of Mount Gelu dances a girl. Her feet navigate the precipices with ease, jumping nimbly over cracks in the icy floor. She’s silhouetted against the dawn light that’s reflected brilliantly against the smooth ice.
Snow collects on the long black lashes framing sparkling blue eyes. Her hair is a royal blue that fades to the silvery-white of the snow in the ends. Her mouth is smiling the lost smile of being somewhere far, far, away, the same distant place her eyes seem to be fixed on. It’s as if she sees something beyond the horizon, some place of dawn and light and hope. On her head is a silver beanie with a bobbly pom-pom that wiggles as she dances. Her parka is bright blue on the outside, lined with a luxurious white fur-like material on the inside. Her mittens and pants are made in the same style, silver stitching marching down the sides. Long dangling silver earrings hang from her ears, a snowflake in the right ear, an icicle on the left.
She throws up her arms and the snow pours down quicker and quicker. The tempo of her dance increases. Faster. Faster. Faster. She circles, stomping and shouting. Her parka spins out as she twirls. It’s a blizzard now, snowflakes obscuring her features.
When the snow finally clears and the sun comes out, the girl is gone.
(October 1, 2022 - 8:39 pm)
Oh wow, thank you so much! A surprising amount of people associate me with snowy/rainy weather, which is cool because I love that kind of weather :)
(October 3, 2022 - 7:38 am)
There is a girl who hunts with the wolves. She runs with the wolves, howls with the wolves. The wolves are her pack.
You wouldn’t see her. Even on a night of a blood moon, when the sky is lit up ruby red and the moon shines like a lantern, you wouldn’t see her. She prowls the shadows, black eyes glaring out under stormy black brows. Her hair frames her face, pitch black and sleek and long like a raven’s feathers, tinted raggedly at the ends like it was dipped in blood. She wears black tights and a black top with a snarling wolf head embroidered in blood-red thread. There’s a threadbare red friendship bracelet lying forgotten on her left wrist, interwoven strands fraying like lost memories.
Late that night, as even her canine kin have crossed the bridge into dreamland, the girl lies awake. She rubs the bracelet and stares at the stars. In a soft but deadly voice she promises to the sky: “throw me to the wolves and I’ll come back leading the pack.”
~~~~
It's kind of short, and sorry for the long wait, but I hope you like it!
(October 2, 2022 - 9:32 pm)
Ooooo! You make me sound like a Fem Fetall!
I love it!
(October 3, 2022 - 6:39 am)
May I have one? But, could I have a creepy, horror story vibe?
(October 3, 2022 - 4:24 pm)
Before I do, what are your pronouns?
(October 3, 2022 - 5:35 pm)
Ooof, sorry. I use She/her. Thanks! Can't wait to see it!
(October 3, 2022 - 5:42 pm)
could you do me? my color scheme is black/acid green. i love stars and trees.
(October 3, 2022 - 3:13 pm)
Can you make one for me? She/her pronouns.
(October 3, 2022 - 4:14 pm)
Deep in the depths of the Viru, into the dark, past creepies and crawlies and things best left unseen, grow the darkvines. They swarm up the nearby plants, gripping and choking and killing, unleashing black spores that germinate and multiply. They cover the world in the grip of acid green and black, entangling life until it’s not life anymore.
Far, far above the writhing vines flies life: a dragon, carving loops in the sky with her curved scales, slicing the air gently yet firmly, gracefully. She reaches for the stars, and for a moment it seems as if she can truly scoop one down.
Her eyes are shimmering green, offset by glimmering black scales, deeper than midnight. Her horns are gnarled, spirals of acid green and black that are curving, looping, intersecting, blurring. Her wings are majestic and long, finely stretched skin over taught tendons and graceful bones. She has a peaceful expression on her face, content and thoughtful, yet playful. Still young.
She curves and dips down, down, down. Down to the valley where the darkvines grow. She lands. The darkvines shiver. Vibrate. Recede, slightly, as if respecting this dragon, this force of life. She lifts her head high, breathing flame across the darkness, making the vines cringe from heat and sheer will. They wither and flake away like dust in a breeze. The dragon snorts once, and curls up, soon breathing the heavy breaths of dreamland. The darkvines stay still—for now—biding their time. But they’ll be back.
~~~~
Not sure how I feel about this one. It's slighlty odd—I'm not sure if you're the dragon or the vines, up for interpritation. It's kind of inspired from the Flames of Hope and the vines in the abyss. Hope you like it.
(October 3, 2022 - 8:23 pm)
ooh, it's amazing! :D
...aaaaand, sorry admins for lots and lots of posting :P
(October 5, 2022 - 1:50 pm)
Salutations, glad tidings, merry Halloween, happy Tuesday! May I have a picturing, if you would be willling? I use they/them pronouns. I am also an avid Night Vale listener, connoisseur of the peculiar, and occasionally President Dictator Supreme, but I only on the rare Octember 32nd. if that is of any help.
(October 4, 2022 - 9:21 am)
Hey could you do me? Pronouns she/her. Could it be in a forest?
(October 4, 2022 - 9:02 pm)
Bubbles writhing and rising, floating and streaking up, up, up. They rise to the surface, clearing the water.
Scales curving, horns slicing, claws scooping, tail thrashing. Flashes of blue and blue and blue, deep and light and royal. The shapes straighten out, features becoming clear.
Swimming in elegant dives as the sun-dappled water plays patterns on her scales is a loch-dragon. Her eyes shine with bottomless navy intelligence, only clouded by the filmy third eyelid blinking away debris. Her horns curl up gracefully, silver-dark and straight, almost like those of a narwhal. Her claws are silver-sharp, long and pointed. Her scales—a waterfall of color, light blue on the breast and the tendons of the wings, coating the undertail with pale brilliance. Dark blue highlighting the spikes and the wings, streaking into gradients of a royal blue body.
Her tail whips the water as she swims higher, the water becoming lighter and lighter. Algae becomes tangled in her claws—she twitches and snicker-snack goes her silver-sharp talons before the alga polyp drifts away on the current.
She breaks through the crest of a wave, up, up, up into the sky—thrashing and curving, dancing—her wings move slightly, shaping the air as she loops and spirals, then comes crashing down to be inevitably lost in the bubbles.
(October 4, 2022 - 10:27 pm)