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Literature

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Deviants

Welcome, welcome

What kind of art can you submit here?
To see the rules, follow the following White Rabbit.

:iconstelari:

Just one.

How many scientists does it take to invent a time machine?

VOTING - this time the voting is different than before, so please read along. For visual works, you have 6 points to spare - that is the same amount as before, but now you have the ability to give them to more entries - but you have to choose not less than 3 entries and no more than 5. Deviation with the most points is the winning one.

From literature entries, you will select one and write the number at the bottom of your voting comment (example: Literature - 13). After the votes are counted and the places are determined, I will choose one entry for the distinction, from the remaining deviations.

As usual, the voting will last two weeks (from the 1st to the 14th of March 2015) and begins after I announce it.



:bulletblack:Deadline: the 28th of February 2015.
:bulletblack:Limit of submissions: one piece per member.
:bulletblack:The entry must be prepared for the contest precisely.
:bulletblack:You must be a member to participate.




Prizes

Newly added prizes are marked with a :bulletyellow:.
Features by: Angelles-LaVeau, Asfodelo, Agaave, Meredyth, MelikeBAt, erinclaireb, Doertchen, akitku, Inku-inku, SRudy, STelari, GrimGloomTale.

:bulletblack:First Place
- a small painting from erinclaireb
- a sketch from Asfodelo
- a sketch from STelari
- 10 postcards (details here) from Art-and-books
- 100 points from MelikeBAt
- 100 points from Beltaneh
- 30 points from akitku

:bulletblack:Second Place
- a sketch from STelari
- 10 postcards (details here) from Art-and-books
- 100 points from MelikeBAt
- 70 points from Beltaneh
- 20 points from akitku

:bulletblack:Third Place
- a sketch from STelari
- 10 postcards (details here) from Art-and-books
- 100 points from MelikeBAt
- 60 points from Beltaneh
- 10 points from akitku

:bulletblack:Literature
- an illustration of your text from AncaXBre
- a sketch from Asfodelo
- a sketch from STelari
- a little booklet (details here) featuring the text from Art-and-books
- 100 points from MelikeBAt
- 90 points from Beltaneh
- 10 points from akitku

:bulletblack:Distinction
- a sketch from STelari
- 10 postcards or booklet (for visual or written entry) from Art-and-books
- 100 points from MelikeBAt
- 80 points from Beltaneh
- 10 points from akitku

Looking for prizes, please think about it!




Happy Holidays and a Merry New Year, good luck!
STelari

Entries!

1.The Timeless Realm by pseudozufall   2.The Crazy Hat Guy by Lorelei-Cha   3.To see Clio's face by squidmaiden
4. Time Machine    I looked over to the clock as it struck its unknown hour, the four handed grandmother clock worked its incalculable rhythm, and striking a time no human truly knows. I sat fixated by the smooth deep red wood and watched the ornate hands move at one moment in unison and at another independently. The numbers, for want of a better term, are strange mystic symbols, some ancient and abundant in the archaeological record others unknown except for a few that when looking to the sky see not the stars but the darkness between, and its everlasting beckoning call.
                The clock stroke once more and I glanced at my pocket watch; I’d been watching the movement of the device in the corner of my study for over an hour yet only a moment had passed. After this chime there was a change, a subtle one, something different. There was a subdued hiss as if gas was released under pressure. I glanced
  5. Destroy the Present, Kill Your Past
Click.
Click.
...Click.
.........Click.
...............Click.
The sound of grating. Broken nails upon solid wood. A clock grinding to its fractured halt. The last breath dragged in by the punctured lungs of someone dying on the floor.
And the cut-throat chill of a murderer's blade.
I look down at my hands, as if noticing their blood for the first time, spread all over the backs of my fingers and down the back of my hand, following a path along my arm. The same is true in my other hand, that clenched in the ruffles of Zyra's hair, the dirty red mixing with the black. Her eyes were closed, pushed down by hands trembling in pain, dark skin warm, now, just minutes after death.
Taking the needle from her rugged palm, I hold her hand, cradling it in my own. I sit there, numb, for moments on end, until I slowly release her hand and stand up numbly, letting it fall to the ground. The knife in her chest, red in its tomb of blood, stands with its handle facing me, a mark against Zyra's innocence
  6. Ember    Ember would often wander the borders between the past and the future when she was dreaming.  There she would be covered in starlight and dance on the threads of Fate as if she were the only being in the Universe.  There she could see into the heart of Time and unearth its deepest secrets if she would only stay and search long enough.  But Ember knew that she belonged in the present and would drown in history and eternity if she chose to keep her eyes closed.
    Her dreams were a part of her Gift, a special ability given to only a select few each century.  Her Gift only came every three hundred years.  The Gift of an Oracle.
    In Ember’s present, being an Oracle would result in death or imprisonment for life in service to the Crown.  Despite the plainness of her face and the nearly undetectable curves of her figure that would have given her the former option, the flaming quality of her

7. A journey in colours.The Caravan will lovingly take you back and then it will leave you.
Is it ever a curse, to be plagued with reality?
We say, yes!
Is it ever willingly that people go on to exist?
We say, no! (Let us agree to disagree.)
The Caravan curtseys in the back of the mind-room and a light shines on the participants. There are no tickets to be sold nor tricks to be played, at all.
The Caravan is the very fabric of the poet’s imagination.  In other words, it is real.
Usually, you will reproach us for our theatrics – but we are in good disposition to assure you that you are in fact, wrong. Life is about art and your hiding away in a cocoon of rules and regulations will not help your case, contrary to popular delusion. Call it a poison, call it a cure, we call it art.
She counted the number of the steps it took for her eyes to reach the spectacle, in case of an exit scene taking place. The Caravan stands, in its reds and golds and treacherous mounted scaffolds, crafted with the fabr
  8.Portal by TrollGirl   9. End of an EraA ‘Kaiseradler’ story by Duncan Meredyth
The airship came down like a wounded whale, shearing roofing shingles and trusses off several houses and flattening a wooden storehouse, its centrally positioned steam engine crashing through wooden pillars like cannon shot through brittle bushes. The damaged hull, pierced and perforated by 75 millimetre-shots and harpoons, broke apart completely and folded. Small fires flared while the two pursuing rigid airships, sleek cylinders build for speed and firepower, started their descent. The town of Colmar, jewel of Alsace-Lorraine, awoke to life in the midst of night this January 21st, 1905.
Fritz David Lange, retired Major of the 2nd Prussian Hussars Regiment and operative in the late Bismarck’s secret service, managed to secure a horse from the damaged craft’s stable that had survived the crash landing unscathed, mounted, and threw back a last glance. The airship had been one of the earlier military models

10.Personal Time Machine (PTM) by dieroteiris   11.Door to wherever by JettieHier   12.inside our minds we travel through time by Asherah-Seren
13.My Mistress Of Time by AliceNACT   14.Here-and-Now by EvaGataArtist   15. The Little Time TravellerIt all begins with a cardboard box; a simple cardboard box. There was nothing special about this brown box with its array of colored lines swirling in no particular direction across the sides; just a canvas for a little boy’s marker collection. In his arms he held Teddy, his protector from the evils in their adventures. Lively blue eyes – filled with a child’s wonder – glanced at his fuzzy friend, a big grin plastered on the young boy’s face.
“That oughta do it,” he said with a nod of his head.
Gathering himself up, he set Teddy down in a chair and made his way to his closet. While sifting through the shirts and trousers, he found his travel attire and presented it to Teddy; a brown newsboy cap, pants, and shoes with a plaid bowtie and suspenders. He also found Teddy’s matching plaid bowtie and a green tweed travelling jacket. Together, they got dressed and assessed their appearance in the mirror.
“We look good, Teddy. Good enough f

16.Distorting Time and Space by yanadhyana   17. I Can, I Will, I Have Done“You can’t.”
That’s how it started. A boy, a girl and the words, “You can’t”.
With her mother having died from pneumonia, only six months earlier, Suzie arrived at her 21st birthday realising little else had changed in her life. Her sole purpose was now to keep the house in order, an ordeal which started before dawn and ended way after her father and brother had gone to bed. There was bread to bake, grocery shopping to do, cleaning, cooking; the list was endless and she collapsed into bed at night for a fitful few hours sleep grabbed between her loads of work.
“Why was I born different ma?” She spoke to her mother as if she was there listening. “Why was I born like you, with the female body parts? All I want is to be like Phillip – he can run about, he can vote for change, a change that doesn’t affect me so much as him and father.” A small tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m clever too ma, smarter
  18.Beyond the Portal by IvieMoon
19. To My Grandfather, at 102The secret magic, you said,
is in photographs,
a fitful grasp on a world
that can’t be held
in our hands,
and brought into
submission
And so I hold
my grandfather’s photo tight,
speak to him
on his birthday—
slowly, precisely,
as though I believe
my voice carries through
the haze
He will be always
one hundred and one years old;
the doctor signs the paper
to remove him
from this world
I flip through pages
of an album
as if they were memories
And I imagine
and I hope
that life can turn back—
a clock gear, a deadbolt
Can you speak to me of that?
I have no time left
for guilt or for regret—
no time,
no time machine,
no doorway to the past
  20. The Halloween PartyIt is Hallowe’en, 1926, and my brother and I are on our way to a fancy dress party at our auntie’s house. The weather was good when we set out, but now we are caught in a fog so thick we can barely see our own feet.
The heavy drizzle has drenched my short fairy dress, and my brother’s coat and his arm around my shoulders are the only things keeping me from turning into an icicle. He is dressed in a solder’s uniform, borrowed from our cousin, who was conscripted during the war, and his coat it blissfully thick and warm, although it doesn’t do much for my cold, bare legs.
Just as I start to think it is our fate to freeze to death out here, a looming, dark figure emerges from the fog. As we walk closer, I see that it is a large, imposing manor house in dark stone, and that there is light coming from the ground floor windows.
“We must really be off track,” my brother says, staring up at the building. “I don’t remember a building like th
  21.Meeting with the master by AncaXBre
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:iconjuanbauty:
juanbauty Featured By Owner 6 days ago  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for the request!
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:icongreensap:
greensap Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2015
Thank you kindly ...
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:icontaisa-winged:
Taisa-Winged Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2015   Artisan Crafter
Thank You for the request ^__^
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:iconstelari:
STelari Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2015  Professional Traditional Artist
I'm really happy to hear that, thank you :heart:
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