#gloom grumbles: ART EDITION

[doomordestiny]

young chip and lizzie for my hc purposes!!

a personal headcanon of mine is that as kids, chip and lizzie got lil beads in their hair to signify themselves and the black rose pirates

more under the cut ^_^

chip is orange for flames but idk how to make it make sense pre riptide, lizzie is red bc her clothes ig, finn is green bc his hair, drey bc his eye and his sash, and arlin bc the wave tattoos.

obviously it isn’t Everyone but for my sake and also the story i’m saying it was just the ones they were around most and then got the black bead to symbolize everyone else + captain rose.

as lizzie got older she got more beads for different people, like caspian and ava. she added one for chey after she passed.

chip now has another braid with a sea foam green bead for gillion, a yellow bead for jay, a light green one for ollie, and a little pink bead for pretzel :)

they still have the beads in their hair, but probably got new ones since its been 10 years

OR alternatively by now they’ve put them on cords of string and wear them as bracelets.

[sakuradormitory]

Understanding

I finished and edited another old project: 50 sentences about Sorata and Ryuunosuke this time! I’m hoping to do the same with a few more old projects next year.

You can read it on AO3 or FF.net, or down below!

1. Restless

“There's five concepts here, six if you count last one as two potential ideas-—” Sorata thumps down the pile of papers on top of Ryuunosuke's desk, and looks at him intently “-—I want your honest opinions on them, go ahead and rip them to shreds if you must, just help me make them better, alright?”

2. Understanding

“I just don't understand him,” as he tosses his phone aside, Sorata mutters to himself — he doesn't really care to, either (at least, not quite yet).

3. Right

“It just doesn't sit right with me, living with someone who I've only met face to face once,” Sorata argues,  raising his hand to knock on Room 101 even as Jin and Chihiro try to talk him out of it.

4. Hope

“Akasaka...” Sorata peeks around the door hopefully, “Jin-san and Misaki-senpai took over my room playing games, mind if I hide here for a while?”

5. Hinder

“You're only holding yourself back with that kind of attitude,” Ryuunosuke starts, but Sorata doesn't want to hear that from him, of all people.

6. Kite

Rita takes them up to Hampstead Heath where she and Mashiro used to fly kites; Sorata isn't expecting it to be quite so much fun until his and Ryuunosuke's kite outfly the others by a considerable height.

7. Closed

“Misaki-senpai said you play games too, want to join us—” Sorata winces at the sharp sound of the closing door.

8. Confuse

“You thought I was a ghost?” Ryuunosuke wrinkles his nose, apparently confused, “really, Kanda?”

9. Presence

“Well, you didn't exactly radiate a comforting presence!”

10. Rough

Sorata pats the space on their sofa next to him as Ryuunosuke flops down with a groan, “let me guess, the meeting ran overtime again?”

11. Edible

Ryuunosuke defends his attempt at cooking dinner as both edible and nutritious, which is really all that defines food, when you think about it, though Sorata insists that what you cook needs to taste good too.

12. Learn

“If you won't eat it, we can just order someth—” Sorata drags him to the kitchen for a cooking lesson before he can finish.

13. Posture

“Here, if you lift your chin a bit, and straighten your back—” Sorata holds onto his shoulders and steps back a bit to get a better view at him, Ryuunosuke's attempts to deter him doing nothing, as usual “—you'll thank me for this later, Akasaka, you'll make a better impression on them if your posture is good!”

14. Team

“I don't like team games,” Ryuunosuke says, not unexpectedly, but Sorata is pretty sure he and Misaki will manage to rope him into a few anyway.

15. Listen

“You just don't want to admit that she's actually really good for you,” Sorata starts heatedly, but Ryuunosuke is out of the door before he can finish.

16. Distance

“You know, you could at least admit that we're really good for you,” Sorata tries, his tone softer this time as he slumps back on Ryuunosuke's bed, looking at the ceiling, “just like you're really good for us... we've come a long way together.”

17. Subject

“It's research...” Sorata waves the console at him imploringly; Ryuunosuke turns away, hiding a smile, “...come on, Akasaka, just one game?”

18. Length

“You're just about the only person here I could tolerate living with for longer than two years,” Ryuunosuke mumbles sleepily one night, not expecting Sorata to really remember it.

19. Grumble “...oh, alright, I suppose I've got some time to spare...” Ryuunosuke rolls his eyes, but Sorata is all but beaming at him.

20. Assisstance

“Kanda, I...” the words seem to cost him something, so Sorata waits patiently for him to finish, “...you... you were right, and I need your help.”

20. Chord

“You could stand to treat your friends a bit better, Akasaka,” Sorata bites back harsher words, but the ones he calls out seem to strike a chord with him too.

22. Miss

“I think I'm missing something, Akasaka... your girlfriend sent you a lovely, thoughtful gift for your birthday and this situation is terrible because...?”

23. Gift

“...her birthday is several weeks away, that's plenty of time to come up with a gift idea,  Akasaka.”

24. Distress

“Do you think I'd be panicking about it this much if I thought I could think of something in that time?!”

25. Unite

“Combining what we both do... so you're talking about some kind of art software...” Ryuunosuke frowned slightly, looking from Mashiro, to Sorata, to his desk and the computer screens, “...even for someone such as myself... making an art software from scratch on my own in under a month... isn't exactly feasible,” he says finally.

  26. Serious

Mashiro looked from Ryuunosuke to Sorata, “Sorata, I thought he was supposed to be a genius.”

27. New

“I'd like to see you make software from scratch in three weeks,” Ryuunosuke muttered, leaning back again, as Sorata and Mashiro returned to the drawing board.

28. Smug

Sorata passes his driving test on his first try with flying colours; he offers to drive Ryuunosuke to and from every in-person meeting he has, so Ryuunosuke can't really complain about how smug he is about it.

29. Amount

“I can't imagine he'll be able to eat that many tomatoes,” Sorata said, eyeing the grocery bag that Jin had begun to unload.

30. Aviation

“I'll miss her too,” Sorata smiles when Ryuunosuke looks away abruptly from the rising plane, “but I think we all know she'll be back again soon.”

31. Gloom

“He likes programming and... tomatoes,” Sorata echoes gloomily, wondering how he's supposed to use those to start a decent conversation.

32. Routine

It had become some sort of a routine to bump into Ryunnosuke in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning on the days when insomnia kicked in.

33. Conduct

“I had hoped they'd be tired out by now,” Sorata sighs sympathetically when Ryuunosuke shoots a glare in the direction of today's chaos that Misaki and Jin seem to be conducting in the garden.

34. Appreciate

“Tomatoes are best enjoyed in their natural form, but I do appreciate the soup, Kanda.”

35. Victory

“Akasaka-” Sorata bursts into the room with what seems to be explosive, uncontainable delight “- I did it, I passed!”

36. Second

The second time they celebrate by the school pool, (despite Nanami's protests) Ryuunosuke decides to come for the food, but flat out refuses Sorata and Misaki encouraging him to join them in the water.

37. Visit

Mashiro comes by for a visit just as Sorata is giving Ryuunosuke a cooking lesson... he's surprised by how well it goes.

38. Rest

“Overworking yourself never did anyone any good,” Ryuunosuke scolds him; it's a sentiment that Sorata makes sure to repeat back to him on occasion.

39. Between

Between them, they'd managed to fix the broken kitchen sign with a lot of success... and the smile on Misaki's face certainly made it worth it.

40. Moment

“It's pretty good...” Sorata could almost swear that he was grinning, “it needs work, of course, but for a start...”

41. Certain

“Ryuunosuke-sama, a certain someone seems to be sending you a lot of messages for advice on his current project... should I block him?”

42. Split

“If we're going to be living together, we're splitting the grocery shopping 50/50, got it?”

43. Role

“Alright, I'll bring them to him,” Sorata huffs as Shirayama-sensei piles a stack of papers into his arms, wondering when he'd signed up for the role of passing on assignments.

44. Found

“Akasaka, have you seen K—” Sorata grins when he sees a familiar shape curled up contentedly on his friend's lap.

45. Lecture

“You're really going to lecture me about working out a good schedule when you pulled two allnighters to finish that project?!”

46. Exception

“Thanks, Kanda, I...” to his surprise, Ryuunosuke slumps against him after the awards ceremony; Sorata can feel his knees shaking a little still, “...I'm glad you came with me.”  

47. Attitude

It's a wonderful thing, Sorata thinks, to see your friend smile more and more throughout the years.

48. Reject

He'd expected Sorata to turn his back on him, he'd expected all of them to, and yet...

49. Unexpected

With Ryuunosuke being the only other resident home, Sorata isn't expecting much attention while he sneezes the day away, but it's a pleasant surprise when Ryuunosuke comes in with reheated soup, medicine and a bag of Sorata's favourite snacks, even if the latter is dumped rather unceremoniously on the end of his bed.

50. Change

A lot of things have changed for him over the past few years, he realizes, wincing a little as he helps Sorata carry the last box of his posession through the door of their new home, but he might have changed the most.

[infinitehouseofbooksya]

REVEAL - Project Emerjence

Today Jamie Zakian and Month9Books are revealing the cover and first chapter for PROJECT EMERGENCE which releases March 14, 2017! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to be one of the first readers to receive a eGalley!!

A quick note from the author:

I’ve always dreamed of writing an epic sci-fi thriller. I knew I wanted it to involve a group of teens leaving a dead Earth to start new lives on a terra formed Mars, but I didn’t have any ideas on how to make the plot exciting. Then, a song I never heard before played on my Pandora app. Escape by Rogue. As that song blasted through my headphones, the entire story that is Project Emergence streamed through my mind like a movie trailer. So, I went straight to work. It took months of frantic writing, almost a year of editing, and a mini rewrite, but that moment of inspiration became my first YA novel.

Project Emergence is a fast-paced thrill ride across the stars. It shows the extent people will go to uphold their beliefs, and that love can overcome any evil.

On to the reveal! 

Title: PROJECT EMERGENCE

Author: Jamie Zakian

Pub. Date: March 14, 2017

Publisher: Month9Books

Format: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 292

Find it: Goodreads | Amazon | B&N | TBD

An ancient Hopi myth says people arrived on tiny silver pods that fell from the sky.

But the truth is far more terrifying.

Two-hundred fifty-eight teens are sent from a dying Earth to a terraformed Mars as part of the Emergence Program, mankind’s last hope before solar flares finish off their planet and species. Among the brave pioneers are sixteen-year-old Joey Westen and her twin brother, Jesse.

After only minutes in space, something triggers a total ship lock down.

With the help of their roommates, the Matsuda twins (notorious hackers and shady secret-keepers), Joey and Jesse stumble onto an extremist plot to sabotage the Emergence Program.

But Joey and Jesse didn’t travel to the deepest pits of space and leave their mother behind to be picked off in a high-tech tin can. They’ll lie, hack, and even kill to survive the voyage and make it to Mars.

Excerpt

Chapter One Joey stared out the window of a large, airtight van. The nose of a spaceship peeked above maroon-crested hills, and her forehead thumped against the glass. A light crinkle drew her stare, right to the paper wrinkling in her grip. She loosened her stiff fingers, smoothing a crease from the official seal of the Unified Nations of Earth. The letter in her hand still mesmerized her. Selected, Terraformed Mars, New home, those words knocked the bottom from her stomach every time she read them. Things were getting way too real. No more tiny lead-lined home, school time at the kitchen table, mom. She turned to Jesse, her brother’s smirk brighter than an X1 flare. “You’re a crappy twin. I’m freaking out right now, you should be too.” Jesse rolled his stare her way. “Fraternal twins don’t work like that.” “That’s not true.” She read the letter again, making sure both their names were listed for the umpteenth time. “I can’t believe this is happening.” Jesse squirmed, frowning a moment before his perma-smile returned. “No one from G-Sector ever goes anywhere.” “Did you see the look on mom’s face when we left?” “I know. Buzzkill.” “What’s she gonna do without us?” “Finally be able to feed herself,” Jesse snickered. Joey shook her head, folding the letter. “Maybe she’ll win the next lottery, meet up with us on Mars.” “Yeah, I don’t think so.” “Why not?” Jesse leaned close, keeping his voice low. “Didn’t you hear what that kid behind us was saying?” “No. What?” “He said there are no random drawings.” Jesse eyed the soldier stationed at the front of the van, then the other two at the rear. “That everyone is selected for a specific purpose.” “But, that would mean the U.N.E. is lying to everyone,” Joey said, a bit too loud. Jesse’s eyes opened wide, and she shrugged. “You’re gonna get us booted from this ride before we even launch.” “Sorry,” she muttered. “It’s a stupid idea anyway ‘cause look, we’re here. What do we have to offer? All you can do is fix stuff, and me … well, I’m just good at being cute.” She batted her eyes, flaunting a sly smile. “Yeah you’re right, that’s real flippin cute.” Jesse slanted toward the aisle, glancing around the cab. “There aren’t any adults on this van.” “There’s the soldier guys.” “Geez R-tard, I mean the passengers.” Joey pinched her brother, who wriggled away. “R-tard,” she mimicked. With a failed attempt to appear casual, she popped her head up and scanned the many seats. Sparkly clothes and bright makeup captured her stare. “They look like A-Sectors.” So lavish but she could see beyond the illusion of glittering threads and flawless skin, to the same excited fear that dwelled in her own eyes. “Please remain seated while the vehicle’s in motion,” a soldier thundered. Jesse grabbed Joey’s arm, pulling her down into the seat. “Smooth sister, real smooth.” She shrank back, initiating her trusty get-out-of-messes frowny smile. “Oops. In trouble already, figures.” Grumbles erupted from her brother’s lips, and she turned back to the dusty earth outside her window. Crazy how one day, and a trip to the mailbox, could change her entire life. Yesterday, she was painting a mural of Mars on their bedroom wall. Today, she was going to Mars. The parched countryside vanished behind a tunnel’s wall. She sagged down in her seat. For sixteen years, she clung to Jesse. Every time dust storms pelted their windowless metal house, she curled under his arm. Mom worked late and her hand became glued to his. And now, when she actually needed the comfort of his touch, her brain decided it’s time to man-up. Her eyes narrowed. She zeroed in on his cozy looking hand, her fingers drumming a steady beat on her leg. *** Sabrina poked her head around a corner. Her fingers tightened around a rifle’s grip as she peered down a dim corridor. Shadows danced along the concrete wall and she backed up, pressing her comms button. “Stone to dispatch, come in dispatch.” Static crackled in her ear, a garbled voice cutting in and out. “Dispatch, do you read? Where the hell is my back-up?” This time, only the fizz of dead air replied. “Damn underground bright-out dens,” she mumbled. These missions twisted her gut every time. There were very few people left alive on Earth. Many couldn’t afford specially designed homes or the rising cost of oxygen, and it didn’t sit right to bust folks just for trying to survive the scorching sun. Although, as a captain of the Unified Nations of Earth, she had a duty to her planet. Neither a heavy conscience nor lack of back-up would hinder that. Sabrina held her weapon close, skulking down the stone passage. Two men strolled around the bend, stopping short and she popped off two rounds. No sound emitted from the gun’s muzzle, just a flash that lit the graffiti-stained walls in white. The men slumped to the floor. Tiny darts protruded from their chests, pamphlets spilling from their limp hands. “Earth-heads,” she muttered, glimpsing anti-Mars propaganda. A clink of metal echoed to her left and she headed toward it. Men and woman dropped as Sabrina skated through shadows. Their tranquilized bodies slapped concrete, leading a trail to a solid door at the end of the long hallway. She reached into her vest, extracting a small explosive charge. Just as the magnet clinked to the steel slab, a voice sputtered into her earpiece. “Captain Stone, we’ve breeched the airlock. En route to your position.” “Bout time,” she muttered. Her thumb glided overtop the button of a wireless detonator and spikes of fear burrowed into her gut. U.N.E protocol, the whirl in her stomach, her brain required to wait for back-up. Pride, however, was a persistent little sucker, one that set loose a torrent of electric shocks to course freely in her veins. She scurried back, covered her head, and pressed the button. An explosion rocked her chest, slamming her against the wall. Hunks of concrete crashed down, and the door slammed atop the rubble. Sabrina swung her rifle dead ahead. Adrenaline perked her lips into a smile as she charged through wisps of smoke, firing upon every body that lunged her way. “This is a raid of the U.N.E., get down on the ground.” Soldiers flooded the doorway behind her and she dropped her grin. A woman needed an iron-clad stare amid this troop of grunts. “Took you guys long enough.” She turned, stumbling back as the five-stars of a General gleamed in her eyes. “Sir,” she roared, standing up straight. “Captain Stone, I need you to come with me.” Sabrina glanced around, as much as one could without moving a single muscle in their neck. Her men cleared the room as a smaller group, with much larger guns, crowded around her. “Am I in trouble sir?” “Quite the contrary, Captain. You’ve been selected for an important mission. You’re going to Mars, soldier.” *** Joey grabbed her brother’s hand the instant he climbed off the van’s step. Her attempt to play the tough-guy had gone on long enough. People shuffled all around the wide-open room, probably watching her act like a baby, but she couldn’t let go. Fear stole her will. It could have been the towering room of glass walls and silver beams that encompassed her, the barrage of strange faces, or the fact that she’d never see her mother again, but gloom tainted this moment. A soft voice streamed from a kiosk of video screens, repeating the Space Center’s famed slogan–Three days on the state-of-the-art R23 shuttle, strolling through green grass, swimming in cool oceans. Everything she memorized from the letter in her backpack. “Look, there’s check-in,” Jesse said, tugging her from the display of white sand beaches. She inched through the crowd, close to his side. They filed into a rowdy line, her palm sweating against his skin. “The Westen twins, I presume,” a high-pitched voice trilled from behind them. In one swift move, she shook free from Jesse’s grasp and whirled around. An ultra-posh, Asian girl leered down and Joey stood tall. Her eyes wandered to the near identical boy at her side, bearing the same long jet-black hair. Another set of twins. “How did you know our name?” Jesse asked. Joey nudged his arm, pulling his gaze from the low cut of the girl’s sparkly shirt. “We know the names of all the twins on this ship,” she said, her hand hoisting to her hip. “First and last,” the boy added. Joey stifled a chuckle. Twins who finished each other’s sentences, this trip was going to be stellar. The line shuffled forward, and the small group edged up a few paces. “How many twins are on this flight?” Jesse asked, glancing between the pair. “Fourteen, including us,” she replied. “Well fourteen sets,” the boy corrected, turning to his sister. “That actually makes twenty-eight twins.” “But twins is plural, so it would be fourteen,” she argued, a hint of red flaring her cheeks. “Yeah, but, you knew who we were,” Joey said. “We didn’t even know there were other twins here. Is there like, a manual we didn’t get or something.” The girl laughed, slapping her brother’s chest. A stealthy glare clouded her delicate features as she leaned in. “We hacked the database.” “We hack everything,” the boy whispered. “Cool,” Joey drawled, glancing to Jesse. “So you must be Jesse,” the girl said, staring at Joey, “Short for Jessica, right?” “Ahh no,” Joey sputtered. “I’m Joey. Short for Josephine, which I hate so … just Joey.” “I’m Jesse, which … isn’t short for anything.” Jesse shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze falling down. “Ahem, the line is moving,” a red headed girl groaned. They all crept forward again, and then Jesse spun back around. “So are we supposed to hack to find out your names?” The girl giggled, and Joey’s eyes rolled. Her stare landed on the boy’s annoyed face, and they both grinned. “Kami Matsuda.” A rainbow of colors reflected off the girl’s clothes as she slinked closer to Jesse, looking up into his eyes. “That’s Rai,” she said, nodding to her brother but keeping her deep gaze. Jesse gulped. His hands began to tremble, and it became painfully obvious at how fast his breath flowed. “Next in line.” “That’s us,” Joey chirped. She all but ripped Jesse from Kami’s leer. “We’ll catch up with ya.” It took quite a massive tug, but she finally got Jesse moving toward the registration table. “Now who’s smooth, dorkus,” she whispered. *** “Let me get this straight, Mr. Winslow,” Sabrina said, only able to mask a fraction of the edge in her tone, “you want me to be a glorified babysitter for a bunch of teens in space?” She turned from a wall of windows, which ran from floor to ceiling. Her boots sank into lush carpet as she strolled past stone statues, one of which lost its arm somewhere along the way. Such extravagance. If it were liquidated and spread out, every sector could afford a giant dome to protect its people from radioactive air; instead of just the A-Sectors. She tore her gaze from art-adorned walls, catching an impatient glare from the man behind a glossy wooden desk. “The situation on our hands goes far beyond babysitting, Captain Stone. We’re under attack. The commander of the U.N.E. herself assured me you were the best of the best.” “Commander Sun said that? Huh.” She stepped closer. The man before her strained to appear confident, but she glimpsed the beads of sweat that trickle between his dark wrinkled skin and white hair. “You’ve got my attention,” she said, cupping her hands behind her back. “Of course you understand, every word spoken within this room stays within this room.” “Yes sir.” “Ever since the inception of the Emergence program, a group of fanatics have targeted us. Are you familiar with the Earthisum Movement, Captain Stone?” “Yes sir. I took out an underground lair of them this morning. They seem to be, for the most part, harmless.” “Perhaps on the outside.” He pulled a brown folder from his drawer, placing it on his desk. “Have a look.” Sabrina flipped open the cover, scanning the pages. When she read a handwritten letter, which appeared to be scrawled in blood, her fingers actually shook. “The threats made in that manifesto were not empty.” Her head snapped up, and she gawked at the old man before regaining her composure. “Are you saying, the Earth-heads blew up your first flight to Mars?” His finely manicured fingers massaged his forehead, a ghostly shade of white claiming his cheeks. “Yes, after only hours in space.” He dropped his stare and muttered, “The second and third flights as well.” “What?” “Those maniacs sabotage every Spacebus we launch. None have successfully made the voyage to Mars.” “How could you hide this from the public? They think people are living, flourishing over there. You need to put a hold on this program. Now. I’ll need at least a week to investigate.” His head shook, and Sabrina slammed her hands on the desk. “That file says there are two-hundred and fifty-eight children walking onto that shuttle as we speak, Mr. Winslow. Two-hundred and fifty-eight lives you’re putting at risk.” “If we stop the program, they’ve won. No! The survival of the human race is too important. This mission has to succeed, Captain Stone.” “But why now, with kids? If what you’re telling me is true, Mars is empty. There are no doctors, scientists, or security of any kind in place. They’ll eat each other alive out there.” “It has to be them.” He rose from his seat, smoothed a crease on his pinstriped lapel, and strolled to the window. “Those young adults were born in the year of the massive solar flare.” While gazing out the lightly-tinted glass, he motioned for Sabrina to join him. “I don’t see why that matters.” As she approached, the doublewide spacecraft stole her focus. She allowed her stare to fuse with the gleam of curved metal, sharp points of thin wings, before shifting her eyes to the man beside her. “They’re genetically predisposed to elevated radiation, since … I handpicked each one of them—for their instincts, spark, and their odds of producing healthy offspring.” “Look, I get that. But, if you just postpone a few weeks I can—” “Earth only has a few weeks left, Captain Stone.” His voice quavered. He cleared his throat, lifting his chin high. “The sun is set to flare in, approximately, ten days. The space program predicts its intensity will surpass our classification scale. Moments, and everything left above the surface will be eradicated. Not even the UV-dome of A-Sector can deflect these waves.” Sabrina gasped. She began to stagger back, but Winslow grabbed her arm. “Captain Stone, Sabrina. Look down there, at those children.” Her legs wobbled for the first time in her memory, but she crept forward. People hurried along a glass-encased walkway, far below, like tiny ants marching into a trap. “That’s the future of mankind down there. If they don’t make it to Mars, our species will cease to exist. You have to get them to that planet safely. You’re the last hope of humanity, Captain Stone.”

Jamie Zakian is a full-time writer who consumes the written word as equally as oxygen. Living in South Jersey with her husband and rowdy family, she enjoys farming, archery, and blazing new trails on her 4wd quad, when not writing of course. She aspires to one day write at least one novel in every genre of fiction.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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[doomordestiny]

the demolition lesbians

non title version under the cut

im actually quite happy with this so, REBLOG maybe? ^_^

[doomordestiny]

THREE YEARS AND A REBRAND!!!

[doomordestiny]

some doodles of the sillies :P

[doomordestiny]

silly little wip. this file is called doomed lesbians if that tells you anything

the colors look fucked bc this is literally just a photo of my computer screen im too lazy to export the file