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Not My Best Work - Blog Posts
Just a little something I made in class… allow me to explain…
Chikara:
Age: 7
Quirk: DJ; she can make a halo graphic DJ Deck appear to manipulate things around her.
For example; if she makes a catchy enough tune, all someone has to do is hum, or nod and/or tap their foot/head to the beat and they are very likely to obey command
She does not care at all about what other people say about her, her family raised her and her brother with the quote “You are never too old to do anything, as long as it makes you happy”
Has Virgilio (hope I’m spelling that right)
Her normal everyday outfit consists of her stripped tank top, a rain jacket, a tutu, a small bow in her hair, and light blue sneakers
On rare occasions she will show up with her fairy wings on as well
Has a bumblebee backpack
Kanji:
Age 15
Chikara’s older brother
Is about to attend UA
Quirk: Boombox; he can adjust the volume of his voice to almost as loud as Present Mic’s, he can also play whatever song or noise he’s thinking of
Although that can be very annoying when he has a song stuck in his head, because not only does the song affect him, but it projects and most of the time gets stuck in other people’s heads as well
Doesn’t have a voice, he only talks by beatboxing, but his family and friends understand him well
Walks his sister home everyday
I am a writer
with a strong hate for the word write and any variation
just the word alone puts so much pressure on the creator. it shares a pronunciation with the word Right.
There is not much dividing Right and Wrong. Anyone can be Right and anyone could Write.
but it takes dedication to prove it.
wormtaur
wormaids. they're like mermaids but they're 1/3 human, 1/3 fish and 1/3 earthworm
the worm is the middle third
Padawan Ahsoka ♢||♢
(click for better quality)
An Ode to Pools of Moonlight
Shimmering lace
Falls to the floor,
Like a spool of silk
Unraveling,
Revealing a dimension
Not thought of,
Not seen.
The stars melt into your waterfall
That ebbs and flows
In turn
With the tide.
A million darlings wish on your missiles,
Your projectiles of light,
Falling through the sky.
Your same image
Reflects upon the Earth,
Ever shining,
Above us all
Like a silver thread
Connecting humanity.
An Ode to Rays of Sun
Sweet, mellifluous rays of sunlight
seep through every crack, every seam
invading every crevice, every nook
until there is no space for night.
A million threads,
golden as fresh honey,
bright as a thousand suns,
tether me to the sky.
The shine of silk or velvet,
the beauty of a field of dandelions,
the yellow light,
sends a haze over everything,
obscuring all that is not good.
The morning is acissmus,
the night, a palimpsest.
Until you see the stars.
Oh, the stars deserve their own poem.
I cannot do them justice as a simple end to another.
How can one call themselves human without being enamored with the heavens?