OMG THERE’S MORE
reblogging for Maid Marian
The artist of these included background stories on their deviantart, in case anyone’s interested… I can’t recall their username though :c
Alright Tumblr! Let’s do this right this time! These are my original Disney themed cocktails! All drinks were made up, and I did not copy any existing material. Expect a part 2 in the near future! Please feel free to check out & support my Bartending Facebook page at Cocktails by Cody. Thanks! Now let’s get drunk off our childhood! (I do not own Disney’s trademarked characters, blah blah blah don’t sue me please…..)
I need to make some of these
March, 9:15 PM
A child is born, pale and cold. Her fate claimed to the shadows. This tiny life, fluttering like the soft feathery touch of a monarch’s wings is taken into the arms of darkness on this stormy night. The lightning crashes and her soft wails follow its cry into the wind. Her mind is different from others, her soul, her being, is cloaked into the darkness. Her mind will fill with the ink of pen; her soul a fluttering shadow, her body will stay pale and shaky as the moon’s hair gliding over the earth’s body. She will age in an era of harsh judgment and bloody insults tearing her flaws out. She has so much ahead yet she lays staring into her mother’s eyes curious and silent.
Young, she stands alone from the rest. This child is named after beauty, strength and the precious pearls of the sea. Her dark hair curls around her face in ringlets and her deep, penetrating stares are full of emotion. Other girls want dolls and pink flower crowns. This child wishes for books and knowledge. Still so young and ignorant to the cruel world around her she is presented with subtle gifts from elders for her polite and good natured personality. A rare Lilly, illegal to pick in the swamps of Florida, yet a man risks the law to present it to this child for being beautiful and ethereal like a dancing fairy. A waitress complementing her for her amazing manners in a five star restaurant, while other children wail and whine. So many simple things make the girl smile and thank them for their sweetness.
School time, a lesson for the girl that not everyone likes her curls, or enjoys books. Boys pull her hair and girls ask her why she doesn’t wear dresses before throwing paint off their brushes to hit her shirt. The treatment makes her feel exposed and raw. She starts to worry if anyone will still want to complement her but when a little boy asks to be her friend she feels the familiar swell in her heart as she smiles and gratefully accepts the offer.
This seems to be long and meaningless to you I’m sure but wait and watch and you’ll see that this flower bud begin to blossom and fate mold her on the potter’s wheel. As she climbs the ladder of responsibility and trial she begins to evolve. Her sweet smiles turn into witty smirks as she puts her knowledge to use in her tongue, turning it to silver. Her eyes, once so expressive and accepting become hardened yet still swirling pools as she hardens from the years of mockery and conflict thrown upon her shoulders. Her hands, still angelic begin to callous from throwing them to fight for respect in her position. As she grows she curves out and slims out fairly from her once more heavy set. Her hair has become thick and darker, plagued by the shadows crawling up her locks and beginning to enter her mind. When she walks down the halls alone the shadows curtsy and bow as commoners would to their queen. As she walks on they trail behind her like a long skirt on a shadow casted bride. She eats among others talking scorn and sneering upon cowardice and ignorance for she now knows the taste of fear and hurt. She loses many friends she once thought she had in a steel vice grip because they stab her in her torn and scarred back.
Soon she is left alone in a glass jar for people to speculate at. The shadows move from her corrupted mind down to her heart and they break her. She screams inside the jar and loses her sense of the old self she once was. She shows her anger and pain and hope in poetry and writing, a modern Poe. She grits her teeth and shoves everything that feels or imagines down into the darkest pit of her mind, locking the door and melting the key down to a bullet and shooting herself in the heart for good measure. The speculations dim down and she gets some respect back from her new change of person. When she stands she is shrouded in the darkness, claiming the birthright of the shadows, stealing others light as the pariah she had become brightening it by pulling the shadows from it. After the change, her smiles were uniform; her eyes became a hard onyx and chocolate mix. Her silver tongue thrashes out and she is a perfect picture of a living lie. Inside she is empty but she doesn’t let the people around her have to glory to see her in such a state.
But something changes. She meets someone different. Someone like her, but still soft. Her heart begins to beat again and her eyes melt from this eager friend seeking stranger. Her once tense shoulders soften and her glares slip away and her lips curl into a genuine smile that had been gone for so long that it hurt for her to even grimace. With this new found friend the girl comes to terms with one thing: She will stay loyal, she would take all pain and darkness from this friend and mold it as she did her own feelings and make a grain of sand with it to throw into the hole in her heart since it was already empty. Soon with her softened personality she gained more friends, each one added to her list of people to stay loyal to and to defend at all costs. It came to the point where if they were to ever be caught in a life or death situation she’d take death to make sure that they were safe and okay. The shadows were still within her but she used them instead of wallowing in them. She sucked up all hurt and compressed it into her. She matured taking all hurt and putting it into her.
What no one saw on the outside was that she started to decay inside from all the darkness. The shadows and black sand had started to clog her veins, mixing with her veins, they started to choke her, they started pushing her to the limits mentally and emotionally. What does she do with this pain and worry, but what she always does, mold a bullet and shoot herself making another hole and another pool for the darkness to sink into until it filled, then repeat.
She held up the weight of the heavens to make sure her friends were safe and thoroughly loved. With every pound added she sunk a little more, her wish to be a martyr, her perseverance to protect and memories of several past lives had made it so she was only felt like she was living when she really had been dead inside for them. She began to fall into the void of emptiness again, losing all sense of self except for the venom inside, the protective, passionate, calculating phoenix.
When she graduated she her pictures all seemed to show a smiling, proud group of friends except for one girl in the center. Her cap was tilted slightly and her eyes were shining but not with pride or success, they shown with glee for her friends but it was hidden in the forced smile. After she started college and her job she practically dove off the radar, the only people she contacted were her youngest brother, her parents and her friends. The rest of her family was either close by or dead…and she accepted that. She still stood holding all the shadows and dark sand inside and had times when she just burst apart but never when anyone could see. She had to keep up her reputation and didn’t want anyone to worry. All of her friends lived happy, long and splendid lives. One became an artist sought out for all types of jobs for buildings or murals. Another became a detective, putting away all kinds of criminals. One became a famous trumpet player for all to hear. One close friend had become a therapist with her own business in psychology. But she became what the shadow woman became what she had loved. The dead. She became a coroner working to take apart murder victims and figuring out how they died, helping to bring justice in the one way she knew best.
She aged well, keeping in contact but staying busy. She didn’t ever marry, she never was able to get away from her friends or her job and no one was ever able to understand her anyways but she had became the greatest ally and the most trusted friend by far in not only her group but her job as well. All of her friends had married and she was always there, never crying but always smiling proud of them. She walked down the road of life, never alone yet still so separated. In the end she died loyal. When she went with the lead detective of her area,- coincidently not the friend from school but a man who had interest in her- she had been inspecting the body when she heard a small click and saw the murderer about to shoot the unaware detective. She jumped pushing him out of the way and getting shot herself. She was shot in the heart. The detective had gone numb seeing her dead and took down the gunman. In his report he hadn’t stated that his lead medical examiner had bled out in a dark blackish red pool, her long dark braided hair had lightened as she died. The last thing he saw before they took her body was all shadows had seemed to kneel as she passed, as if mourning their lost bride. The shadow woman was born a fated Outsider, grew to up to scarred a Ghost, served as a proud Shadow and died a loyal Hero.
I made this for my own pleasure. Don’t know why I felt the need to make a short tale like this but I did. Hope you like it. 0_0
A woman has died. Her hair the color of dark chocolate, her eyes mixing pools of emotion and her heart covered in bullet holes.
SPREAD THE DAMN WORD
THAT WAS COOL
My hands are too small to do this effectively.
I wish I wasn’t iPod
if you’re on ipod you just hold down the reblog button
wtf just happened??