Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Tackeh's 10,000 Etchings

Thanks, jeol.

Here is a doodle. If you squint you can see the math homework I drew it on.
I tried to draw folds and stuff. :b

I have to be honest here. I was hoping that people would actually look at my drawing. :b

I'll probably add to this poem laterrrrr. I also drew something else that I may or may not find somewhere in my backpack.

I stand vigil at the peak
Of a mountain ever bleak
Stained by blankets of dark gray.

I am prepared for the worst
The starved demons with bloody thirst.
"Fight with all your strength" I say.

My feet dig into wintry snow
Waiting for the fears I know
For all the days to come.

Demons rise; I'll stare you down
You'll never take my rusted crown
For all the things to come.

I have to be honest here. I was hoping that people would actually look at my drawing

I'll probably add to this poem laterrrrr

This is the first thread I looked at after my return to the AMW, and I have to say, it's amazing.
Even though it's probably been done a thousand times, I shall critique the first poem, just because that's the one easiest to find.

Grayness clouds the eyes,
of a man fading from life,
Such sorrow and broken hope,
Such horror and strife.
His arm falls limply to his side,
His sword falls from his hand,
This is what war does to us
Death of the memories of man

I'm too lazy to quote soooOooooOooo.....

@Bunneh
Thanks for your compliment, forced as it was. XD
Also thanks for the topic, though I don't know when I'll have enough time to go back and add to the poem.

@jeol
I did go back and fix the shading, but the dress folds are supposed to be like that; tight at the legs and then fanning out. 8D
It's not Moon, though I guess it could be.
Either way, thanks!

@Hyper
Thanks a lot for both the critique and the compliment.

Me? What?
You know how I feel about that pictah.
That poem, I really liked it cept whats the proper name for it if any? Because I don't get why the last line of the last 2 stanzas were the same, unless it was supposed to be like that to fit the poems scheme....
It was quite fantastic, I would want to write a story for the behind part of it :P

I was talking about the picture she posted, that was not of me, I do believe.
I would upload a picture, but I'm only a fan of manga and such, and I fail ar shading and things that are different from small smiley faces or Dangos.
So.... Yeah.

But then it would be all... Arrogant feeling. I do not enjoy that feeling. I don't like the subject of meeeeeeee. So let's move it BACK to the fact that this is Tackys thread, and we need to beg here for moar.

:b @ jeol and Moon

I added more to it but it still feels like its missing something. Oo

I stand vigil at the peak
Of a mountain ever bleak
Stained by blankets of dark gray.

I am prepared for the worst
The starved demons with their bloody thirst.
"Fight with all your howling strength" I say.

My feet dig into wintry snow
Waiting for the fears I know
To drag me to the deep.

My path is mine alone
For all my sins I must atone
To hell my feet do creep.

My comrades have all since gone
Left me here as they moved on
To the palace down below.

I refuse to fall to those who slay
Upon my hilltop I will stay
To deal the final blow.

Demons rise; I'll stare you down
You'll never take my rusted crown
For all the wars to come.

I may on my white throne bleed
But I shall never fall to my knees
For all the years to come.

I also wrote something else in iambic tetrameter that I'll post soonish.

Guess which Shakespearean play it's based off.
It was for an English project. Interpreting passages bleh.

Sans magic Iâm still deathly weak.
My fate may be tâ flee to Naples,
Or to the dukedom that I seek.
Spells hath turned the tempest tables;
But I forgive those sordid thieves,
Let them free from their rigid bonds.
Rise up wind, those clouded spires,
And sail me âcross the gaping ponds.
For all I wanted in the end
Was to please them and repent
But on those spirits I depend,
Though it was only good I meant.
And now I do lie on my deathâs door
All forgiven forever more.

Firstly, I'd like to give kudos to Cenere for coming up with the awesome title change. :b

So I created a character for Wolf's awesomesauce new thread; the Road of Night. The more I think about the character, the more I'm itching to write a little story involving her, since she's somewhat more serious than the characters I usually create. :b

Some examples of the not-so-dark characters I've made:

Reaper: Seems darker and more mysterious, but in reality, is just a kid who's trying to fit in with the other...soul...reapers... Oo

The Sophomores: Yeah, I couldn't think of individual names. They're goofy and silly and get into silly scrabbles over silly things. They get injured dramatically then get better in a few minutes since I don't feel like drawing them in recovery mode. :b

Tacky the Penguin: Evidently has roller-blades and bunny ears. That's all I really have to say...

There's no conclusion here.

I'm diggin the name change, sistah.

But I'm not diggin the little squares in that last one (d)

I HAVE A REQUEST!
Write something.... free.... and lighthearted.
HUMOR.
^^^^^^^

:b
I will try humor after thiiissssssss, Moooooon. XD

I finished the Lynn story, though it turned out to be much longer than I intended it to be. So I'll have to break it up into a few parts. I added some more actiony action scenes to prove to Cenere that I can.

For clarification; this is not me. Me is what you see in Moon and my collab. This is what I would like to be. :b



"We're here, Tacky!" Johnny, my compatriot, drops me off at a sign that says "Welcome to the City of Blades." The city where I had learned how to fight and how to live.
"Thank you so much, Johnny!" I reply, feeling grateful and happy. "How much longer do you have?"
Johnny had accompanied me all the way from his home-town to here; the city where I would be spending a few days. He would be continuing his journey all the way to the Capital City. He sighs. "A day or so. I'll be exhausted by then. See you!" He waves and gallops off.
"Good luck!" I shout back and walk into the city.
It's a warm afternoon, the streets filled with the clamor of the city-people. I breathe in the smell of spices that drifts above their heads. How nice it is to be back in the City. I make my way through the crowds, keeping a tight hold on my money-pouch. It would be pretty darn bad if I somehow lost it. After I walk a few more minutes, I find what I was looking for. A grin spreads across my face as I spot the Bobbing Inn; famous for its pastries and, of course, drinks.
Inside it's dark and cheerful, the light coming only from the fading lamp above and the glints of the whiskey glasses. All around is noise, and my ears start to ring. I sit myself at the bar and grin cheekily at the bartender, jester's cap askew. "Hey there, Sam." Sam takes a while to notice me, a twig seated amongst burly men.
He looks shocked when he spots me and he smiles cheerfully. "Why, if it isn't Tacky the Fool of...of....what was it again?"
I wave him off. "Doesn't matter." I do a little hop-skip, cape of bells jingling. "Just remember that I'm a Fool." Sam chuckles and I put on my best demanding face. "Oy, you there! Bring me a drink!"
"Oy, yourself!" He roars. "You ain't old enough, miss!" He chuckles and grabs me a pastry, slamming the plate down in front of me. I savor the smell. Chocolate. Oddly enough, I feel almost at home here amongst the rowdy bar goers, and my heart starts warming up. Finally there are no worries about betrayal. No worries about attack. As I sit and laugh with Sam, I finish the last of the chocolate and throw a handful of coins him.
"Use em for something useful, eh?" I shout over the din and start up to the inn. My pack is finally getting heavy, and my muscles start to ache.
"More useful than beer?!" He shouts indignantly, waving me upstairs. The noise from the bar starts fading away as I stagger up the creaky staircase.
I totter down the hallway, feeling more tired each second, feet dragging on the dirty ground. I finally reach my room and, with a thud, slam the door open and shut. My feet feel like cinder blocks, and I collapse onto my bed.

You can assume, jeol. You can assume.

Next chunk. May or may not have typos or sentences that don't make sense.

I'm woken by a creak out in the hallway. Yet another reason I wish I wasn't such a light sleeper. I notice that I hadn't even removed my Fool's cape yet, and I throw it onto the coat rack as it jangles loudly. I start to remove my daggers when suddenly the creak gets louder, right outside my door. I'm wide awake now, and I have a firm grip on my blades. I fall into a crouching position, making sure not to make another sound.
The handle on my door starts to turn, and I curse myself for being too sleepy to lock it. At the very least it could have bought me some time. I slowly unsheath my twin daggers. They glint in the moonlight and I hope I don't have to use them, and this is just some false alarm...
Johnny pokes his head through the crack. "Tacky? Are you here?"
I breath a sigh of relief and drop my daggers back onto the bed. "Oh, geez, Johnny. You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing here?!"
He grins sheepishly. "I realized I didn't have a place to stay the night and the bartender said you would be here. Sorry if I woke you up..." He shuffles a little , embarassed.
I'm too relieved to be angry. "Oh, it's fine..." I laugh. "COme on in." I turn to show him the couch. "Well, you can stay he-"
A piercing pain ricochets through my shoulder. I scream as the pain opens old wounds. I barely manage to keep myself standing, the shock is so great. Johnny stands behind me, a bitter sneer on his face and my own daggers in hand, dripping with my blood. He lunges for my throat, and my arms and legs aren't listening to me. I land a punch in his gut but he barely flinches. He pins me to the wall, hand on my neck and dagger at my chest.
"Johnny why-" My eyesight starts to blur and the point of the blade is digging into my skin. Panic starts to set in, squeezing my chest until I can't breath.
His face is twisted into a grotesque smile. "I got offered a proposition I couldn't turn down." He presses harder. "Let's just say that."
Suddenly the air seems to chill to ice around me and everything starts coming back into focus. The intense throbbing in my shoulder fades to faint irritation. I can see Johnny's wild eyes, red at the edges. He's insane. I think. I can feel vague annoyance at his idiocy. Bribed? By whom? I took care not to make any enemies... His hand is trembling. Scared, are you, Johnny? What a fool.
He spits in my face. "And here I thought a member of the Deck would put up more of a fight. Looks like your enemies were wrong, LYNN."
Ah, so he knows my real name. I glare at him coldly and prepare myself. One, two, and- I shove my knee into his gut. He grunts in pain and staggers a step back. It's all I need. I kick my dagger out of his hand and land a blow on his head. He falls with a thud onto the floor, blood trickling out of his mouth. He grimaces at his bitten tongue and I take the time to dive for my other dagger lying unsheathed on the bed. My hand closes around the hilt and I swing myself around.
It's as if I've awoken from a deep sleep. Now I can see clearly. Why did I think I could trust him in the first place? Idiot
Johnny swiftly reaches inside his coat and with a snarl, pulls out a chain intertwined with barbs and wire. He twirls it and flicks it menacingly.
"A Chain of Thorns?" I laugh. Nothing but a children's show. I lightly spin my daggers, and as he attempts to send the chain hurtling towards my neck, I throw one. It embeds itself in his skinny chest and he falls for the last time. I stand above him and rib my blade from him, now red up to the hilt. "How about that, buddy?" He coughs and his eyes grow more manic still, even as he turns pale as a ghost. He starts cackling, his laughs echoing around the room.
"It's too late!" He shrieks. "I already called them here!" And with a last howl of satisfaction, he falls limp and his eyes grow blank and dark.

OH NOES.
YOU ALMOST DIED.