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 Posted: Wed Aug 29, 2007 11:50 am
Yes he does. So I say I shall post some arts in it... Yes... Yes I shall....   <----- Has been submitted to ze shojo beat contest  <----- alternative to ze beat girl contest/ was never finished
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Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2007 4:42 pm
Some random person I drew-  And I drew Haru's keyblade too..... it didn't come out that good... 
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2007 5:54 pm
i am not that artistic, so i wont show any of my pictures, but Robby, i mean Ybbor is a very good artist,
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Posted: Tue Oct 16, 2007 1:28 pm
Well It's kinda not really artsy.... >.<
A squirrel plunges a scrawny paw into a bird feeder, hanging upside-down. It stops- the rough crunching sounds from my feet alerted it- the squirrel jumps and disappears up a tree. The rake makes minuscule scraping noises as it gathers the golden and auburn leaves into mighty heaps. The smell of burning birch logs fills my nostrils to the point that a taste enters my mouth of sweet birch. My eyes squinted against the stale wind blowing from the east, onto my unprotected face as my grip on the cold rake handle tightens. My breath is clearly visible in the bitter breeze. Although my face and hands felt to be frozen, inside my jacket it was as though I was sitting right next to that aromatic fire. Some leaves whipped up in the wind, lashing away at my face like brittle whips, causing my face to be even colder. Patches of green now seemed to sprout out from the ground, as my rake passed over the ground, the scuffling reverberating off the trees. A large acorn rockets down from a tree and hits my shoulder. I look up to see a squirrel with its cheeks stuffed to the bursting point with nuts, gathering food for the winter months. I smiled up into its big, shimmering black eyes, smiling, then went back to my unwanted work.
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Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2007 2:56 pm
What w/ teh Rping squirrel post?
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Posted: Fri Oct 19, 2007 4:52 pm
It was a school assignment and my teacher liked it and ussed it as an uber example.... >.<
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Posted: Sun Nov 04, 2007 3:53 pm
Well.... Ummm... This is god.  And this is god bigger...  This is Elly. i got mad at her new avi because I couldn't draw it, So I drew her old one. I messed up her face by accident when I was inking it... whoops...  And this is it bigger.  This is Kyros.  This is Kyros even bigger.  This is my dog. I don't know why she's here. 
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Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2008 5:57 pm
"A thief in the principal's office with a diary"
The principal made a tutting noise as he walked around his desk to face his victim; the student thief. He slammed a diary onto the desk as the thief leaned back in his chair. This was nothing new for the thief. He had visited the office several times, its white walls with blue stripes towards the top, multiple blue shaded carpet and large wooden desk were all familiar, nothing in the last three years, except for the calendars, had changed. But this trip was different for him; this involved something important for once, not skipping a class or texting his friends on his phone, but it involved the diary. The wrinkled brown leather did not hold his name, Gideon Hiki, on it, but a girl's. This diary was centuries old and belonged to an old student by the name of Kiara Sentone.
"What were you doing with this diary? You said you found it in an unused locker, therefore it's school property." The principal had stopped trying to be Gideon's friend after the several visits he had had in his first year, and skipped the sweet talk.
"It's not yours; it's Kiara's." Gideon stated bluntly, glaring daggers at the principal, he had never been fond of him. "You don't know the powers that book has, and I need it back." He said, reaching out for the book, but the principal quickly picked the diary up. "It holds magic." he stated the truth. Why lie? The truth was always much easier to tell for Gideon, it was much harder to make up a story. But the principal shrugged him off and opened the book when a brilliant red light engulfed him, and all that was left in the office were Gideon, and Kiara Sentone's diary.
Aparently its "too fantasy" when he didn't say to have it realistic or fantasy... Which kinda pisses me off... I hate him...
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Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2008 5:29 pm
Cal swung his looped belt up and over a rock. He tugged on it to be sure the out dent of the cliff was stable before pulling himself up to the dirt caked, cracked leather that was his belt, and swung it up once again. His other hand reached for another pale brown rock as he climbed. How had he come to this forest? Well, Cal didn't know. All he remembered was awaking on the forest floor with a sharp pain in the back of his head.
Cal had been studying the moon on an island with his uncle when it had happened. They were to stay for a lunar month, about thirty days, on the island before leaving. However, after the first night Cal had found himself on the forest floor, with a throbbing pain in the back of his head. His fingers had come back red and wet when he had reached under his light brown hair to see what it was. And twelve days later he was halfway up the precipice, trying to get back to his uncle before the lunar cycle was over.
The sun was beginning to set when Cal was about three-quarters up the rock face, so he began to quicken his pace. He grasped a rock with his right hand, without testing it first, and pulled himself up to it when it snapped from the main rock and plummeted to the ground, and Cal thought he would follow it as a tear formed in his eye and he thought his life would come to an abrupt end. But his belt held firm and he swung, suspended in the air by his belt. Tears fell from Cal's eyes, rolled down his cheeks, and jumped to the ground to join the rock as he grasped back onto the cliff for his life. Why did bad things always happen to good people?
The almost half moon shone brightly when he finally collapsed, sweating and sobbing at the peak of the huge, jutting rock. When he caught his breath and the tears subsided, he got up from his prone position and began digging through the thorny bushes for berries to eat, as he did before he had reached the cliff. He ate and rested for about an hour before starting to head north again.
Twenty-three days into the lunar month, seven more days to go until the new moon when the cycle would end and the plane would leave, with or without him. He had been covering a rocky landscape for the last ten days, rich with berries and thorns. He had sustained several cuts and bruises on his arms, legs and torso. But now the landscape was less dense; trees were spaced out farther, branches reached higher and wider, and the soil was smooth. He saw sharp leaves in the ground, and he dug until he found the husk were the leaves met and he pulled to find a dirty yellow and brown pineapple. He smiled and ate the delicious, ripe pineapple that night.
One day until the cycle ended. Tomorrow the new moon would show and the plane would leave the next morning. Cal stumbled out of the forest and onto the beach and stared in awe. The ocean looked wonderful with clear blue water and white foam on the surface, but he couldn't admire it now, he had to get back to his uncle. He walked on the beach, heading west now. That night he watched the moonless sky and stayed on the beach. Tomorrow morning the plane would leave, most likely without him.
Cal kept walking on the beach the next morning and his black eyes widened at the sight he found after walking around a bend in the beach. His uncle, Mark, was arguing with their pilot. Cal laughed unstably at the sight of his uncle trying to understand the pilot's Spanish and stumbled towards his uncle. He had made it to the plane, alive.
Yes I know I use names from stories...
so sew me.
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