#maveart

[maveart]

Camera - Inktober

And there's my first Inktober prompt done. Lucky for me, I already had a model to work with 😁

[madame-vera]

Time To Go

Triggers: I must warn of sensitive material including political beliefs, murder, sexual referencing, rape, some crude language and violence. The warning is here so please take care and refrain from complaint. Thank you..

Disclaimer: This was springboarded from ‘Now and Then Here and There’, as such, there will be similarities. Some names/titles were changed, but that’s what it’s from. So yeah, a sorta fanfic i guess.

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I am outside the door. They are inside. The Handi Faction are in there with them. What do I do? I can't leave the children in there with them. I can hear Mary crying. Ah, there's Ahdeb yelling at the Factions' Leader, Sorell Handi. What is he doing? Does he want to get dragged off? Beaten? Handed a gun? My throat constricts, daggers of sand down my parched throat. Salty water flows down my sun beaten skin into my cracked lips. Water. Oh what a blessing. I must stop, who knows when we will have another taste with the Handi Faction patrolling the pools' bounds.

I feel a movement at my breast. Little Lara's hungry. My breast aches to feed her, but I can't. Abelia is talking to Mara. She wants the baby most surely held in Lilia's arms. There's Karl now. He's trying to calm Mary. Oh no. If she doesn't quiet she'll surely feel the beat of Sorell's fist against her skull. Cruel, merciless. My fist quivers, inches from the doors' handle. I must help them, save them. They are my children, Sis' children, even if they are just gathered from the deserts and streets. I am their parent now! Sister! Mother! Oh, but Lara is my child, my blood. She has her fathers' blood too, a soldier of that cruel, detestable army. I don't know which. I lost count, lost track long ago. I don't care to remember.

Oh, that sound. Sorell has sat in the old corner chair, its creaking echoing in my ears. I tighten Laras' strap, attaching her to my chest. My heat blistered hand reaches into my dirt crusted shirt. I feel the cold familiarity of metal and I wrap my hand around its handle, finger close to the trigger. I lean against the door, gun at the ready. My child wails. Now! I rush into the room. Go children, go! Now! All of you run! Run as far as you can! My throat tightens, fingers firm around my neck. Dark eyes glare into mine, bloodshot from beer, a scar over his right from a friends' knife. I gasp and kick, look over his shoulder to see the last child disappear through the door. I swing my body and kick him in the groin. I fall to the floor. His gun swings at me. I pull the trigger first. I don't see his blood, won't see it, won't allow myself to. My heart pounds in my ears with every footfall that beats the dry earth. Run! Hide! Where? Cave! Go to the cave! I bend my body to protect Lara as I ram through Handis. The cave! Quick! I reach the entrance, run into its deep and slide down its wall. Rest.

Tears track down my face again. Lara is crying. I raise her to my sore fourteen year old breast and wince as she suckles. I could laugh at the absurdity. I'm fourteen years old and have a babe against my breast and a stomach still sagged, stretched. Nowhere to go, to be, to belong. Oh how I ache to go home, home to my America, but would my parents recognise me if they saw me? My long blonde hair is now short, ragged, dirty, my long nails now worn down and crusted with sand and blood. No, not blood, just the red of this faraway lands' ruby earth. Definitely not blood. My blue eyes are dulled with the horrors of these lands. I remember home, busy streets, clean house, air freshener, food to your disposal and water, oh sweet, delicious, cold water. Back then I was innocent, clean hands not yet bloodied with another's' life, body not yet tainted with soldier after soldiers' cruel touch, stomach not yet weighted with hunger, throat not yet parched with thirst, shoulders not yet weighted with others responsibility, belly and vagina not yet stretched with life. Breasts that were once small and growing are now heavy, stretched, full with milk. Would they recognise me, this filthy daughter, stolen from their grasp by men in brown?

I can't go back either. To the villagers I am naught but a soldiers' filthy whore, and how am I to argue? That is what I was, just a breeder to continue their legacy, to create strong soldiers. That is what I was before I killed one of them, before I donned their clothes to escape, not caring to see the children far younger than I wearing the very same clothes, their own possession, arms in their hands and at their waists. That is what I was before the army, the nation, fell to pieces at their tyrannical kings' boundless insanity. The soldiers' blood runs through my daughter, so we are rejected. It doesn't matter that we are not the repulsive soldiers, doesn't matter that we are not the ones who slaughtered villages, stole women for breeding and children for soldiers. It doesn't matter, so there is nowhere to go. I belong with my child, but as long as I am with her, I will always run. I belong in America, but I am so changed, would they accept me? I belong in this crimson land with the sun beating strong against sand and nights that freeze water, but I am spoiled, different, and so I am rejected, ostracised. What do I do? What of the children? Where do I go? I must be careful. I killed Sorell. The Handis know me. If they catch me I'll end up feed for scavengers, a bullet between my eyes.

Lara separates herself and I wrap my cloth around her. I feel her nuzzle into me and fall to sleep. Good. Time to leave. It's okay. I have a place in America. I know the way. I have friends, contacts. They will help me. The children? I wince and my hearts feels heavy as I make the decision. I will look, but if they aren't found before the scorpions scuttle, I will leave without them. Bile threatens to rise in my throat but I push it back. No time. I must flee. Sorells' blood soaks my dress. Children or not, I must go. I haven't a choice. I take a deep breath, train my hard eyes on the red ground, and step out. Time to go.

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AN -  This is a story from high school which I came up with on the fly during an English exam on belonging. We had to write a short story about the sense of belonging/not belonging using a chosen first sentence from a list of three. That’s why some names and concepts were changed, It had to work as a standalone. It’s also the reason the wording is so damn cringey.

[maveart]

Road/Sun/Horizon - Inktober

Yay! I finished it! A mixed media art piece for a mixed prompt.

Progress pics below

[maveart]

Ship Dynamic - Cringetober

I really love the ship dynamic prompt from cringetober (well, loads of the prompts there, but especially this one) so I took advantage so I took advantage and made one based on a couple of my OCs.

Feel free to use it as you please

(They've been together some years now and OCB still thinks OCA is just really, really clumsy. OCAs sister has called dibs on tattling to OCA 😊)

[maveart]

Navigator - Inktober

Meet Lavie Head. She's a mechanic and a navigator on a two person plane from the diesel punk anime, Last Exile. An awesome anime btw. I love it 💕

[maveart]

I'm playing around with watercolour brush pens for the first time and it's pretty fun so far. I haven't tried adding water yet because I don't have the paper for it (I might try dropping some on the petals though) but yeah, it's easy-ish to use and looks great. I love it

[maveart]

Discover - Inktober

I went with something more nostalgic for this prompt. I miss the old lucky dip buckets. Those things were an absolute treasure.

[maveart]

Photo Diary - 5th/Jan/2024

Kitchen Palette - (005/366)

The walls in my house are nice to look at when they're clean. I like the patterns and contrasts.

Photo taken and edited with mobile phone.

[maveart]

Yay! I got a new sketchbook 😁 I'll add more doodles to the title page as I feel like it. Probably when I'm bored.

But this means I'm all set for inktober! 💕

2 Progress Pics Below

[maveart]

More Sketchpad Sketches

I played some more with the sketchpad pens. The fox was made with the sketchy pen.

[maveart]

Sketchpad Lady

I tried out the online sketchpad app and it's alright. I made the lady on the left and an example of the pen type i used on the right.

i used the 'sketchy' pen, the one with the cute lil' ghost symbol

[maveart]

Photo Diary - 11th/Jan/2024

Nightlight Fans - (011/366)

I tried playing with colour and light/shadows. I like the golden glow of the blue lit fan and the vibes and colour of the pink lit fan. I couldn't choose which to share so here they both are. It's kinda funny how the phone's shadow is showing through.

Photo taken and edited with my mobile phone

[maveart]

Photo Diary - 10th/Jan/2024

Blue Movement - (010/366)

I had fun playing with colour and movement.

Photo taken and edited by my mobile phone

[maveart]

Photo Diary - 9th/Jan/2024

Hartog - (009/366)

I finally checked out the cool book cafe. I got lunch, 4 books (3 of which were lgbt fiction, the other was a women in myth book), a bi pride pin, a bookmark and a wacky alien tote bag.

It was fun! 10/10 would go again! ☺️🥰

Photo taken with mobile phone

[maveart]

Photo Diary

Curtains - (008/366)

I adore these curtains but the attachments are awful. The pole it hands on has been attached to the wall so we can't take them down to clean them.

Photo taken with mobile phone

[maveart]

Photo Diary - 7th/Jan/2024

Procrastination - (007/366)

I'd say this one's self-explanatory 😅 There's more on the stove and the main bench 😭

Photo taken with mobile phone