Hello all my dear watchers and random passerby!
I'm hosting a 101 giveaway, and all you have to do to enter is fave this journal. The winner will be randomly chosen from that list on March 10th.
NO plz or alternate accounts, please!
No commenting, no linking to journals or polls, and no thank you's necessary, though all would be very much appreciated!
If you like giveaways, I do a 10 giveaway once a week for my watchers; all you have to do is watch me to be entered!
You can also check out my latest journal here and help out for my newest project for even more chances to win points, art, and a feature!
Some random deviations I would be so honored for you to see and read:
Stained GlassIt was a long window, very tall, with the most intricate and beautifully effortless designs Mela had ever seen. She stood before it, just a 19-year-old girl, dressed plainly in one of her most formal gowns. It was long and sweeping, gracing the floor for almost a foot behind her small feet, rolling delicately over her shoulders in a manner that could easily make her blush at the slightest sweet words spoken to her. The green fabric was satin in texture and complimented the young woman’s figure. Her long dark hair was braided down her back, and her hazel eyes were trained on the stained glass window, soft pink lips pursed in thought.
“It is lovely,” she stated simply, with so much feeling in her sweet voice that the saccharine melody tickled the ears of any passers-by.
The window’s black framing was glinting in the early morning light cast from outside. The different colors of the glass shards played tricks on the eyes, dancing aroun
The Perfect Storm - Chapter 1
With a wild, alert look, the young boy standing on the wooden boardwalk promptly stepped forward, closer and closer to the unknown. He was alone now. His brother's sword was all he had left to his name, and he treasured it so greatly that he held it there with his left hand even as it rested in its sheath. The warm summer breeze played with his dark hair as he bit his lip in contemplation.
Before him were three great ships, all making port in the city he was forced to call home. The last one in the row he had his sights on; it was the cleanest, newest ship on the waters. With three tall masts and painted in purple and gold, it was all a boy ever hoped to sail on. The long, elegant letters painted on the side were intriguing to him. The Freeman. Smiling ever so slightly, he sauntered toward the ship that he hoped to captain one day. Then he snorted at his thoughts. "Captain," he murmured aloud. "Even Ja