#lolakills

[cazelr]

Tumblr!!! My dearest friend captainashlet and I are going to be tabling at this year’s Amazing Las Vegas Comic-con!! 

We’ll be smooshed into table K10, selling our adorable arts, so come check out the convention and stop by our table!! There’ll be tons of cool stuff all around, it’ll be awesome fun for the whole family :3 Hope to see you there!!!

[leitakashi-blog]

Artist/Writer Inspiration Thing?!

So my friend Cazel and I did a thing based on this post. We decided for this time to both do things that are 100% original off the top of our heads, and... well, what came out of my head is kind of morbid. :|

see below the cut!

She watched the intruders from the canopies of the old mangrove trees she called her playground, her hunting ground, her home. From thirty feet in the air, her bright blue eyes darted from person to person with the vigilance of a lioness stalking its prey. Tangles of red hair bounced and jostled against her dark skin as she swiftly and silently leapt from one sturdy branch to the next. Her hands knew each branch like a mother knew every mark on her baby’s skin. Her body curled and twisted with the assurance of an acrobat. Her feet found their way securely to each branch with the grace of a jaguar.

Three intruders. All men.

The wild woman knew that they would soon reach a river where they would likely stop to quench their thirst and relieve their skin dripping with sweat. It was their own fault for wearing more than two layers of thick clothing in a jungle like this. Were they sensible like her, they might have brought less clothing and lasted the day without dying of the heat. A single layer of jaguar pelt that covered only the necessities was all the woman wore.

Yes, it seemed that she would have to kill them herself. They were hardier than she first guessed and had not yet succumbed to the weather. From there, the nearest river was almost a mile north and she had already followed them long enough. She could not wait any longer for their death to be brought upon them by the wrath of nature.

As the men spotted the small river ahead that blocked their path but provided water for their needs, she began to slowly creep up to hide in the branches above them until she was perched and preparing for the kill. They would never see her coming, and they had nowhere to run with the rushing water before them and death at their back.

The prey began to shed their clothing soaked in sweat, panting heavily. They made this far too simple for her. She reached behind her for her bow and withdrew one crudely-constructed arrow. Nocking it in place, she drew the string and aimed the arrowhead at the head of the biggest, strongest man of the trio. Yet she waited patiently for the perfect opportunity.

When that opportunity came, the predator struck out at its prey. The arrow flew so fast and sure through the air that the other two men couldn’t tell what hit their friend at first. Before the second kill could find out, the eagle had swooped down at the mouse and pierced its body with its talons: two curved, sharp stone daggers that dug deep into the back of the man. A pathetic whimpering cry barely made it out of him before she kicked him to the ground and finally came face-to-face with the one man who would see her face. The fear in his dark eyes was just the same fear she’d seen in even the lowliest rodent before she ended its short life. It was bright and dark, hot and cold. A feeling of power rushed through her as she rushed at him.

He began to speak in his foreign tongue that she didn’t care to understand. All she wanted was his death. The man began to reach for a weapon, but she wouldn’t allow that. With her daggers still dripping with the blood of his friend, she lunged over the final distance between them and sliced deep into his throat, lashing down and outward with both blades. A spurt of blood splattered on her belly as the man fell onto his back grasping at his fatal wound. She scowled at the mess, and berated herself for allowing herself to get so close to her prey.

She stepped back. A few steps, and then a few more. When the three bodies lay motionless, the wild woman opened her arms outward as if looking to embrace someone. She dropped her blades glistening red in the sunlight filtering through the trees and gazed upward to the broken view of the sky above her. Then, as she opened her mouth, a strong and clear cry rang out as she sang to the heavens.

She sang loudly in thanks for the gift. She sang for the opportunity to enrich her tribe. She sang for a promise of more intruders to bring back to the tribe.

By the time four other women—all dark skinned with varied hair and eye colors—arrived at her side and began to gather the bodies up to be carried away, she was grinning up at the canopies as she ended her song. She was a hunter. She preyed on both the strong and the weak to provide for her tribe and family. Some hunts went well, other times they did not.

That night, her tribe would not go hungry.

[teatimeatoxford]

Beautiful Tag??

You’re it! Rules are: copy this message to 10 other beautiful blogs who you think deserve this message! Keep the game going and make everyone feel beautiful! :) Tagged by lolakills. Been a long time since I did one of these. I tagged some peeps I'm curious about, but feel free to do or not to do as you wish. 10 Facts: 1: I've never been to a movie alone, but I totally went to a UCLA production of Hamlet alone once. It was very well done and pretty fun, more theater in my life plz 2: Someday, when I have the means to give them a good environment, I want a husky. 3: I really like the process of bookbinding even though I totally lack natural precision. I have to concentrate on every detail of every cut and fold the entire time, or it won't come out clean. 4: I go through periods of really specific food cravings. Right now it's zucchini. 5: I can cook only one thing really well: seafood pasta. I can also crochet only one thing: nigiri sushi. It'd be a lot more impressive if these were reversed. 6: Long-form video games hurt me. In the PS2 days, a corrupt demo of Viewtiful Joe wiped my memory card, erasing several Final Fantasies worth of gameplay. Nowadays, if it takes more time or emotional investment than a couple rounds of Katamari Damacy, it's not happening. Unless it's Journey. Journey is exquisite. 7: My favorite part of the school playground was always the swings. 8: I've always wanted to be as smart and competent as characters like Matilda, Hermione Granger, and Violet Baudelaire. (To this day, when sitting down to take a test or concentrate on something, I'll tie or clip my hair back like the latter.) 9: I really love reading out loud to people. Lit as well as comics. Genre doesn't matter. I've read all of Eyeshield 21 and Monster to my sister. :"D 10: Sometimes I wonder if I chose my craft simply because I don't think my words or my art can stand by themselves. Someone once told me that graphic novelists are just frustrated intellectuals (hence Alan Moore aaahaha). There's more to it than that--comics have such a unique power for manipulating time and stirring emotion. Still, I think about it now and then.