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More from ~King-Lyger

BondI look back up at the clock. It's fifteen minutes until it's time. But they always come early, don't they? I thought they'd be here by now. No worries. They said they'd be here at 5:00 sharp. It's not 5:00 yet, is it?

I hope they haven't eaten yet. I really want a burger. I haven't had a good burger from Wendy's in ages. I miss those. They always had the best. But the youngest doesn't like them. Maybe we'll all go out somewhere else instead. As long as we're all happy.

I log online. There's one of them. I chat it up with him for what feels like hours. The door knocks. I tell him I'll see him later, and I promise him that. I know not to brea
The WriterHe stares at the empty page on the screen that begs him to fill it with words. Begs him to find a way to enchant and enthrall and reflect on the nature of living. To reflect on natures of love, life, hate, humor, rumor, rampant sexuality.

All art comes from demons.

How does he draw in a reader? How does he not get bored halfway through and call it quits? how to make sure the reader won't? How does he make this work into a work of art? How does he imprint his name on it?

All art comes from demons, he thinks again.

What demons? He never grew up in the slums. He never had to wonder if he would die coming home. He worried about monsters under
WaltzA white and brown-tailed falcon flew through light-falling snow, soaring close to a stone tower of a tall castle. A gold band attached to its right leg glowed a soft blue for a fleeting moment, and the falcon darted off to the left at the last moment, cutting through the air with grace normally unseen in this sort of weather.

Down on the cold, snowy earth below, the young, elvish king of the land watched the falcon fly through the air, unblinking eyes stinging a bit from the cold. The king, an elf in his mid-twenties, was dressed rather modestly for a man of his stature and the weather of his land. A white cotton shirt showing in the opening
Health Kick “Motherfucker.” There, I said it. Motherfucker. I just can't believe I'm going back to Mom's for the Christmas season again. I swore to myself up and down last year that I wouldn't, and here I am again. Crammed in the backseat of  this little tiny-ass Ford Taurus, driving four hours to go to a little tiny-ass house.
“What?” Rob asks me. He doesn't even look back, but that doesn't surprise me. My brothers don't really talk that much. I bet he thinks it's just to break that awkward silence that we've had for the last ten minutes. “I dunno, man,” I say back. “I just really wish I didn't have to deal with Dad
WhaTiF 1: Rouge SurvivesAlong with Cream, Rouge begins to flee from a possible pursuit by Darth Kryon through a forest. The two get lost along the way, ending up traveling down a path which leads through a swamp. And, as Rouge suspected, the pair is being followed...

“I think we're lost,” Cream said, tracing her eyes slowly across the murky and dark landscape that laid out before the both of them. Every one of their senses was encapsulated with at least some sense of disgust in the swamp, the sights, sounds, and smells not helping relieve the tension that was held around them. A slow churn of deep mud and sand underneath what little solid ground there was
Knight
Shin held the sword's hilt with his right hand,  the single-edged blade resting in a small divot in the blood-soaked earth from its weight, standing still for the moment to catch his breath as the conflict in front of him raged on. The body of his fallen opponent laid strewn out before him with a massive slash wound to the neck. The invaders were unknowns, an army that had appeared like rolling fog on a moor, a surprise attack that had left the army of the Middle Ground virtually no chance to prepare. That being said, the wave of bodies was being driven back whence they came by the relentless, dogged persistence of those they attacked.

Shin

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March 12, 2012
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:iconking-lyger:
This is the final of a project I made for my course on Adobe Illustrator I. Turned out okay, for someone who has only been using a Mac for six months. The car was from my grandpa. I traced it from a photograph of it, and added int he background later.

I like how the red makes the car really "pop," and the sense of speed that the quick, messy strokes give to the car.

CMYK, 8.5" x 6".
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:icondeltastrata:
~DeltaStrata Mar 12, 2012
Neat. o.o
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:iconkhran1505:
~Khran1505 Mar 12, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Very nice, bro. You've done a kick ass job here!
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:iconmystshadow20xx:
~MystShadow20xx Mar 12, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Nice job, Lyger. Looks like the car's shaking and rustling with those strokes. Makes it seem more authentic. I like it.
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:iconjuana-the-hedchidna:
~juana-the-hedchidna Mar 12, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Hehe, I love it, big brother <3 simple and nice~
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