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latty-latte54 — xIcePrincess1x
Published: 2009-08-10 17:35:47 +0000 UTC; Views: 764; Favourites: 20; Downloads: 11
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Alrighty, this is for(this being one:human flame and two:Ice princess)
Now, I'm sorry this is so late- I was going to post it last Sunday instead of this one, but my mom spilt coke all over her laptop, and I couldn't get to the computer. I was also departing for the trip to Gorgia, so I didn't get a chance to post anything. But here it is, and it's for 's wonderful story! --> [link]
I must thank her for letting me do artwork for it, she was very kind to do so, and I only hope that it is to her liking
And excuse the fail-fire...I am prone to failing, especially with fire -_-;;
Hope you guys like!!!
2nd one: [link]
Related content
Comments: 50
Holy cow!
This totally and completely completes the story! I love it!!!!
Yay!
You guys should make, like, a kid's book out of this.
I'd buy it.
Just throw together a ton of stories and pretty pictures!
You'll be millionaires!
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XD Thank you- glad you like
And that is not a bad idea ^_^- you can get 10% for the idea!
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You're very welcome
And yay! Ten percent!!!!
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HOLY SHIZ!!! I must say, I'm so impressed with your medieval/victorian style of art, and this one simply blows me away, especially since I can see just how much work went into this one <333
I am loooving all of the textures you used, especially the one in the background (dunno if that was on the paper and you scanned it in, or you used it as a texture, either way it looks so cool!) and the ice in her dress <333 And the way the ice and the fire are intermingling at the bottom is amaaaaaazing <3333333
OMG and I LOVE the one on the right, she's so beautiful and she looks so forlorn, it almost looks as if she's lost a loved one, and I'm so tempted to hug her right now (and I bet the one on the left is 
Lovely work my dear!
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OMGOMGOMGOMG
ThankyouThankyouThankyou!!!!!
I totally LOVE your comments, btw
Yes, I did scan it like that- my dad is a proffessor on taxes, and when the students give him back tests, and he dosen't need them anymore, he jst gives them to me- yay recycling! When I get them on PS, the back of the paper shows through, but I don't mind it much- as you said, It looks cool ^_^;;
And thanks- I was actually completely lost on how to make them merge-y
The one on the right is the Ice Princess- the story is that she was plain, and felt unloved, so she frose her heart and became beautiful- the one on the LEFT (and he does more than give her a hug 
gaah- love that song, and I can totally see it now
(completely missed it)
Thank you very much!
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Aww, this looks so sweet, you seem to have captured their personalities really well ^__^ Great work
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Thank you very much- I tried ^_^
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P.S. I LOVE HER SHOE. And the dangly shinies on her dress. And the ruffles. And everything. Actually, the whole freaking picture. <33333333
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Yay! The shoe was, like, a last moment, throw-it-in-there kind of thing- I like the linework too, but the coloring really brought it to life
I'm still very glad you like it ^_^
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ooooooooh I want to see the lineart O_O
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you do? Should I post it?
(Its not much, really)
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You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd love to see it <3
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Thanks- go read the story it comes with ^_^
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k, i will later lol
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Aw, stop
And thank you VERY much!
...
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Nuuu problem!
<333333
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of course chur loved!!!
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Its like epic-nes was condensed into a cupcake of sorts, an epicake if you will, then flattened into a piece of paper, and uploaded to the internet
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...I love you, dude
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I wouldn't do that, my girlfriend might get jealous.
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XD what she dosen't know won't hurt her
but seriously, great comment- you should use more of this figurative language while commenting- people like cupcakes!
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well of course people like cupcakes, that's likely why my older brother and his girlfriend made us 6 dozen cupcakes over the weakened plus three varieties of frosting (although they said it was to randomly distribute amongst people at there old school)
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.....
lucky!
(my sister only makes me cake and brownies)
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O.M.F. GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG! *flailfaintflail*
YOU ARE SOOOOOOOOO AMAZING O_O
THEY'RE PERFECT! SQUEE!
If I ever decide to do anything with this, I'd love for you to illustrate (not that it'll ever get published, but it doesn't hurt to dream.)
AHHHHHHHH YOU'RE SO TALENTED. Now mine looks pathetic XD Yours is so much more perfect. So much more THEM.
And it is NOT failfire! It's lovely! <3 I approve a hundred and ten percent. Whenever I update my journal, I'm totally featuring these <3
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8D...yay! (so you like them?)
Thank you thank you thank you!
I enjoyed working on them very much. (you're the one that created the characters and inspired me, ya know)
And if you ever do, or write more stories, I'm always here for you
AhHH THANK YOU! (I am VERYVERYVERY happy you like them XD )
I was hoping to get them right, and YAYapproval!
(and, shush, yours are great too- original designs rock, dude!)
yay!
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omgLIKE them?
I LOVE them!
I wrote another story, too, but it didn't have a name. It was about a giant rose in the heart of a forest that only bloomed one day a year, and when it opened up, he found in the center of the rose the torso of a woman. He stayed with her all day and fell in love with her... and I don't actually have a copy of the story anymore, got deleted on my old 95 writing computer, but I could rewrite it quite easily if you'd like.
I'm so happy <3 I drew one last bookmark-- of the flame standing with his plain princess-- but it looks unimpressive next to your plain princess ._. I might post it eventually anyway, though.
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yay! *feels special*
okok, really now.
Oooh, sound like a cool story- you should re-write it and post it! And I should do some artwork for it! And we'll all be happy!
And post that bookmark- I'm sure its wonderfull!
(I always tell friends not to compare their art to mine, and that I'm cheating since I'm on Art steroids- I still have my Fail moments, though!)
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I found a written copy of that story! It's in rough shape-- it was in a folder I had in gradeschool, if that tells you how old it is, I think it was eighth grade-- but I'm typing it up now C:
Art Steroids. I think I could use some of those. I've already typed up the first couple of pages, only a few left to go. Here it is thus far!
There was once a land in the younger days of the earth, an ancient place now with few surviving remnants of their culture. However, one legend remains; the Man and the Rose. The man of the legend was named Hendrick. He was a quiet man of no consequence in the society of the time; in an era of elegance and frivolity he was but a humble librarian.
He read in his modest, musty library, day in and day out, loneliness seeping through him like poison. One day during a festival in the town square, he crept into the crowd. Of course Hendrick stuck out like a sore thumb, despite his attempts at stealth. He wore a plain tunic—with sleeves much too short—and a scarf, while all the men wore their dapper suits and escorted ladies with superfluous, gaudy dresses. A man stood on a dais, handsome and wearing a suit of armor.
“Lords and Ladies,” he thundered. “I return today from a great adventure!”
He spun his tale of courage and heroics, and Hendrick stood there, entranced. That’s what I must do, Hendrick thought decisively. If I’m ever to find a maiden of my own, I must first become a hero, and go on a great adventure. He knew he was not suited to adventure; he had spent his life surrounded by his books and solitude.
Hendrick looked through his books, dreaming of adventure, and one rainy day removed a dusty volume high from a shelf in a rarely-used corner of the library. Exotic Myths of the Ghallatine Forest was its name, and it was so thick and heavy he had difficulty carrying it. The ancient tome was bound in fine green velvet, and had survived the years surprisingly well, with few rips to the pages and none missing at all. This was easily the oldest book in his collection, and one he had never laid eyes on before. He sat with it all night and early into the next morning; his eyes burned and stung but he had his adventure, oh yes.
The Ghallatine Forest is the most ancient of all explored realms. It’s steeped in mystery and foreboding; few return from its murky depths. The heart of this forest, rumoured to be a holy place, is dominated largely by the Ghallatine Rose; the only known of its kind. It is said to be five feet high, with a petal-span of eight feet, and blooms one day and one night once a year. Men have waited for it to bloom, but grow weary of waiting, and return to their homeland, for no one dares settle in the Ghallatine Forest.
“No one has seen it,” mused Hendrick. “Not yet. But I will. I will be the first, and when I return, I will be hailed as a hero. Then I will belong.”
He spent the next week preparing for his journey, making arrangements for his precious library to be watched over by a few of the friendlier townsfolk. With nothing but a pack and a walking stick, he set out on his journey.
The weather was terrible, the cold brutal, but Hendrick walked anyway, through the sleet and rain, quiet and determined. It was almost a fortnight’s journey to the Ghallatine Forest. As he hovered at the edge of it, he began to have second thoughts. No one he knew dared enter; he had only read of it. But then he remembered the illustration of the rose, closed up, and the urge to see it in full bloom overtook him.
He marched boldly into the forest, and the temperature almost immediately rose an alarming ten degrees within his first thirty steps. He shed his cloak, emblazoned with the mark of the librarian; a book with a quill and a dagger crossed behind it. He folded it carefully in his pack, and moved on. He scavenged for fruits and berries in this forest, and had been successful; for he refused to eat the animals there, though he was sure he could have trapped some of them. There was a knowing in their eyes, and the holy air of the place. Hunting was forbidden in this sacred place; without being told, he felt it in his bones.
One day a wicked wind whistled up and he chose to take shelter for the night. The next morning, he found that his map had been left out, and the wind had swept it away. He felt a deep despair—how would he ever get back to his library? He thought fondly of home, the feel of dusty pages beneath his fingers, and realized that he didn’t need an adventure to be happy.
However, he had a goal; he had not come all this way to quit. Hendrick struck out and braved the forest, checking his compass frequently, walking for hours. Due north is the heart of the forest, he reminded himself, but he got distracted. There was a slightly worn path; only an animal path, but where animals returned time and time again, it was almost guaranteed to be safe. He was exhausted and hoped to find a clearing, or a creek, beyond the path.
Hendrick fell to his knees in the glade, his face smudged with dirt, his hands stained and calloused from living off the land. He was bone-tired, but when he turned his face to the center of the glade, a glowing warmth filled him. An enormous pink rose was furled in on itself, awe-inspiring in its splendor, even when closed. He staggered to the rose, and sat before it, close but never touching it. Perhaps it was holy, too.
He stretched out beside it, admiring it, forgetting the hardships of his journey, filled with contentment. He would wait forever it that was what it took; living in the forest wasn’t all that bad. He would miss his beloved books—oh, yes, miss them terribly—but he had already given them nineteen years of his life. Surely they wouldn’t grudge him this, a peace he had never felt before. A chance to see something never seen by any man alive.
Fireflies drifted lazily over Hendrick’s head, and the sound of a forest at night, which he had first found so disquieting, lulled him to sleep. He dreamed of the animals of the forest, dreamed of the cold weather in the fields before the forest melting into the tropic warmth of the trees. The morning light woke him, and he rolled over, and yelled at the top of his lungs, terrified. He had rolled over onto his cloak—and it had moved out from underneath him.
“Do not be afraid,” said a musical voice, like wind chimes, like silver bells. The voice sang in Hendrick’s ears, unearthly and wonderful.
He looked up through his lashes, his head down. If this was a holy being of the forest, then he wanted to be respectful. But what he saw shocked him, and ripped away his composure. The Ghallatine Rose had opened up, and inside, nestled in the center, was the torso of a woman. The petals of the rose formed her shirt, leaving her shoulders and back bare, and her face was sweet and kind. Her eyes were large and green, the green of high summer, her skin as white as snow, her hair iridescent, changing by the second, long and dripping over the petals all around her.
“Hello,” she said sweetly. “My name is Esper. Welcome to my forest.”
“Esper,” he breathed. “I’ve been searching for you.”
“They all do,” she sighed. “And they are all very greedy, and I hide from them. If they discovered me…” she shuddered delicately. “Who knows what would become of this place.”
“Tell me, Esper. Is this place holy?”
“Yes,” she smiled warmly. “I see you have a love of history, and I will pass the story on to you, however brief it may be. There was a goddess, a daughter of the moon, who fell in love with a tall and handsome elf of the forest. This unfortunate goddess’s name was not recorded, as she disgraced her fellow gods and was disowned. The elf and the goddess made plans to steal away in the dead of the night, but the moment her feet touched the ground, her immortality was lost; gods were not meant to walk among the humans. She lived only a short time, but her time with the elf man was happy. She did not regret her decision. Her last act was planting a single seed in the heart of her home, a seed she put the last of her magic into. She never wanted the forest to forget the love and sadness that occurred here. Thus, I was born. The birds and the animals of this forest wept for many days and nights for the loss of her, and the elf man visited me once before joining his beloved on the other side. He told me their story, of her kindness and love, and told me to carry it on. I do not count the years; it has been so long now.”
She sounded so tired, Hendrick thought. Esper looked no more than twenty but in her voice echoed the space of a thousand years. Her eyes, though beautiful and innocent, were also wise. He felt he could stay in this forest and learn the history of the world from her. However, he also felt as if he didn’t want to. He had sought her for historical value; he had sought her so he could be a hero. But he had found his place beside her, and was reluctant to leave her.
Hendrick’s bones turned to ice when he realized he had slept through several of his precious hours with Esper already. He had to make up for lost time; he talked to her of books and heroics, of music and dancing, of being an outcast in a bright and colorful world of parties, standing at the edge, your own colours grey and blurring at best. She spoke of the secrets of the forest, the language of the animals, the voices of the trees, the harmony of nature. They watched the sunset together, and Hendrick’s heart began to break. How could he lose her for another year? Another day felt like too long to lose her for.
“Esper,” he finally asked, hesitantly taking her hands in his. “Is there any way you could get out of your rose?”
A great stillness descended on the forest; the fireflies stopped their dance, the birds ceased their singing, the trees halted their endless rustling dance. Her eyes were wide with shock. He felt he had made a terrible mistake and cursed himself for it. If she was angry, she might not talk to him, and his few remaining hours would be lost in his grievous error.
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O.O....holy- wow, now THAT is what I call a reply!
Its a very good story- can't wait to finish it!
And I'm inspired!- are you doing bookmarks for it?
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I've been drawing them this evening actually C:
Did you get the note I sent? It has the whole story, finished. Keep in mind that I wrote it in gradeschool and type it straight from the paper, so there weren't any alterations and may still be patchy and dumb-sounding in places.
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Yay! Can't wait till you post!
Yes I did! It was wonderfull- and grade school? You had an amazing command of language!
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I was a nerd ._. An english nerd (who sucked at math...and still does!)
My cousin and I wrote stories together since we were really small, like, third-grade up, and I read like a fiend, so I have a pretty big vocabulary. >_>
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OMG, I suck at math too (and I love love love English!)
I didn't write stories when I was little, but I wrote poems and songs- didn't really start reading until I hit 6th grade- I was drawing all the time ^_^;
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I wrote poems but there were.
Uhm.
Lame.
All the time. XD I stopped writing them... last year, I guess. Last summer.
English WINS. I got almost full marks in English and Reading on my ACT, but my Maths score was only 21.... boo.
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See, I was always better at poems than staries, because I get bored very easily, and since I have trouble keeping commitments, I stick to the short stuff- and I just like rhyming. I entered, like, six poems for the lit fair last year- posted up only one, though (based on lord of the flies, too -_-
But I've always had higher scores on English than Math- on every test. Numbers just confuse me!
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AGREED! I don't speak Numbers :C I squeak by with A's, but... I don't understand a LICK of it. o_o
I enter poems in the youth fair every year, and this one's one before:
The door creaking slowly, I walk into the musty apartment
That smells of death and alcohol and stagnant memories.
It’s mostly empty, this place where you spent your final days.
Some cherry incense here and there; smoke and vanilla hung in the air
Acrid remnants of your smell.
The silence clashes with the memory of your screaming.
Old bruises feel fresh again, a figment of my imagination.
I remind myself that I loved you once, before you threw me away.
The tokens from our romance had all been burned and buried;
Letters and symbols of affection. I’d gotten rid of every piece of our romance.
But your few boxed up items had been passed to me when you stopped breathing.
Now I have the possessions you spent the rest of your life with.
I don’t know if I want them.
It hits me like lightning; the memory of your lips hard against mine.
You’d almost killed me, inside and out, yet the memories were fond.
The cobwebs on my feelings fall away and all your promises flood back.
Did you know that you would die alone like this? Did you know?
It had been years since we’d spoken; and now it’s too late.
But that’s okay. I have nothing to say to you.
I hunt through your tiny two-room, looking for something to remind me
Of the hideous summer we spent, falling in love and breaking our hearts.
Only a few things remained; you sold it all away to keep your habits.
The only thing I find is a note tucked in under your bed.
“If you love her, let her go; if she comes back she’s yours.
If she doesn’t… she never was.”
I was never yours.
But it's just... creepy. And strange. o_< But it won so apparently it's not too terrible. They're not all weird I promise XD
Oh man. The cousin I wrote with--Laura-- she and I wrote one story that was 166 pages and counting (we never finished).
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Ooh, I like it- it's creepy, but I like it.
It kinda reminds me of this artwork I posted a week ago for this one author, based on a poem he wrote- Island of Me.
I found a different meaning in it, though -_-;- which reminds me of your poem
but yes.
Ooh, here's my shrinklit, if you wanna see it- I warn you though, its not that good. [link]
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I saw the picture earlier, and read his poem, which was really deep and cool, and I was very impressed, even if it is a little dark. Well done on the picture, btw!
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yeah, he's got a lot of deep dark stuff, but its good.
I don't know if he was intending for it to be as dark as the picture, but I'm happy he likes it anyway
thanks
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Thank you very much!- there's another one coming up, if DA's gonna let me upload it -_-;
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i'll look forward to it :3
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yay! It up!- DA's being stupid lately -_-;
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