fireheart: (Elvenwoods)

So, on the off chance that anyone aside from me ever sees this journal, hi. My name's Rachel; no nifty online handle.

This is my creative journal. Mostly for writing-first for writing-but should there be any other creative ventures, they'll end up here too.

Some of the stuff in here is NSFW. Not much, but some. There's some bits that include war, and other potentially triggery topics. Should there be need, I'll use tags for as much, and I'll include it in the cut. Make sure you look.

There might also be some pictures in here. If there are, they'll be cut.

Ah, also. I'm pagan, spiritualist, and mystic (amongst other things). Depending on the story or the project I post on, there might be influences. Sorry to be blunt-if you don't like it, go elsewhere.

Anyone who knows me knows that there's grains of truth in what I write. It's up to you to find out where it is, how much is there, and how much I've twisted it. Therefore, there will be no fiction or non-fiction tags. ;)

I'm not sure whether or not I will filter or friends lock any of this. Pay attention to the friends-lock. If it's under a general friends lock, please keep it in the journal. If it's more tightly filtered, please keep it in the entry. No matter what security/privacy level this content is under, all comments are screened, and only comments from registered DW users are accepted. I do not accept anonymous comments. Thank you; I apologize for any inconvenience.

I also have selective openings for commissions, in varying mediums. If you're interested, PM me for further information.

I can also be found on Deviant Art.

Do not take or steal any contents of my journal for any reason unless specifically noted in the entry. Everything is copyright to me, and is not to be shared without permission under any circumstances to any degree for any reason. Including for stock or source. Contact me directly via PM if permission for use of my work is wished for.

Be polite. Do not flame or disrespect me, my work, or any commenters on my journal. This is personal stuff, and if given enough reason I WILL friends-lock or privatize this journal. Please don't give me the reason.

Do not disobey Dreamwidths TOS. If you do, you WILL be reported and banned.


So, uh, yeah. My writing/creative journal. Welcome. If you would like to be added to my circle please drop me a comment here. But be warned, I do not read from this journal! This is to showcase the results of my artistic juices, no more.

fireheart: (Elvenwoods)


This is what happens when I'm an insomniac. Hah.

Character concept: Laerion, Son of Song, Silvan Elf of Mirkwood. (Yes, I know they're mostly blonde; I made him a red-head anyway.)

Art concept: A costume for this character.

Garment details:

All in here. )

~~~~~~~~~~

So, there you have it. Concept art for my (first) Mirkwood elf.
fireheart: (bloodsun)


The design sketch for the aforementioned Matrix-inspired ensemble. Original sketch was done in pencil on computer paper, and was inverted and edited in GIMP upon scanning.
fireheart: (Elvenwoods)

Design sketch for the Tolkien-inspired Elvan court-gown, the specs of which are listed in a previous post. Done on computer paper in pencil.
fireheart: (light)
I've two new, one alteration, in mind for myself for the near future. Of course these aren't all the designs I have in my head, but I think it will do for now. ;) Sketches aren't available yet; I'll be working on those shortly. This is, for now, simply the basic outline of the garments.

Matrix-esque ensemble

Details. )

Tolkien-inspired Elvan court-gown

Details. )

Chain Dancing set

Details. )
fireheart: (Fae)
One thing entering in my spiritual practice right now is work with the Temple Of The Twelve. It is a book series, currently with two books out, by Esmerelda Little Flame. Check the links for more info about the books themselves.


This image ) is meant to represent Lord Silver as He pertains to me. It is still in it's beginning stages; this is simply the line art.

It is done on 11x14" 90lb cream colored drawing paper, in pencil, and when finished will be a pencil rendering. The deviances in the lines across the midsection are due to the scanner I have available being too small to fit the whole piece on it; I had to do it in halves and then GIMP the two halves together.
fireheart: (otherwoods)

T-t-t-ssssssss

The old showerhead, belonging to one of the old showers-those kind that have an oval shaped shower rod, that go over those clawfoot bathtubs, you know those?-sputtered as it started the water for my shower. I hardly cared enough to shower these days, but if I didn’t, he’d be angry. I stripped, as the water heated and steam filled the room.

Read more...TRIGGER WARNING. )
fireheart: (Default)

“Tra la-la la-laaa!” I skipped along today, impish and fey and bored with today’s run. We were on yet another rescue-and-destroy run. The day before, I’d been quite pleased to find that my skills as a walking detonation device were of use to the company. The Brown had stood, confused, in front of a building that needed demolishing, unsure of how to do so cleanly. I had watched him rub his chin, brown hair falling everywhere as he tiled his head back and forth, for several minutes before walking up and offering my services. Five minutes later, I had emerged from the middle of the pile of ruin giggling, much to the dismay of my commander. He had, at the time, ordered me to “NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, DAMMIT!”, and so I was pleasantly surprised and gleeful when he asked me to do the same thing today at their next destination.

We were, at the time, partway through a valley that rather magnificently amplified any sound, and so as I could not sing my nonsense song out loud, I did so in the heads of anyone who would listen. I soon had many either amused, or exasperated with me. If I had really hit an interesting spot in their minds, they were both. The Brown was behind me, as was Shadowsong. The prior was amongst the ranks of exasperated, the latter tried to hide his entertainment and maintain his tough-guy exterior. The Medic, walking next to me today, was as always elegant and sleek, maintaining his aloof, blasé expression behind his glasses. If you looked, though-and I did-you could see the corners of his mouth twitch, indicating not only that he heard me, but that he was amused…and, quite likely, intent on joining the game.

 

Read more... )
fireheart: (Dragon)

“Rori…”

I said his name in my sleep. The face of the huge nigh-black dragon drifted through my half-sleeping mind, full of fangs, soundlessly roaring at me. And then it changed, shifting to the human-looking face, oddly ethereal and not un-lovely, concerned black eyes looking down at me as I woke. His lips moved, slowly, and drew my attention…they mouthed a silent phrase, which I could not read, and then the images in my mind slowly faded to the deep black of peaceful sleep.

“Ah can teach ye…”

His voice echoed through my sleep, piercing and unnaturally loud, repeating what he‘d whispered to me at my pool. It seemed much more ominous, floating through my mind, accompanied by nothing but black nothingness. I jerked, gasped myself awake, breathing hard. I hoped I hadn’t screamed or whimpered this time. I felt stirring next to me, heard the slight noises as of one waking up, and felt a hand slip around to rest lightly on my waist. I had woken the Shadowsong along with me, it seemed. I hadn’t known till then, but I was tense, shaking, my breath hitched. I’d also managed to disturb half the nest, and was pinning it mussed like that, half propped up on my elbow with distance between me and my sleeping companion that had not previously been there. I run a high temperature, and the hotter the presence the colder a sudden draft is…I am not surprised he woke.


Read more... )
fireheart: (Dragon)

“LOVE!” I swept into the Brown‘s door, cloak and still-damp gown flowing, flushed and heated from my stalking walk home. My eyes were flashing, and I was still struggling to wrap my head around what had just happened during my bath, and if anyone knew who that had been, it would be the Brown. He handled most of the entries into the Inn; he must know who the dragon was!

“Mmm?” He leaned back in the chair he was working in to peer at me inquiringly from around the doorway. I could smell the ink he was using-he must have been working-and I felt a bit guilty for interrupting him. I gave him a sheepish grin, and was about to apologize, but the smug, impish smirk on his face removed any incentive I had for that…and now I wore a look of suspicion, in place of the guilt. Two smug males, both wearing the same exact smirk, in one day? I couldn’t help wondering if he already knew what I was about to present him with…but I couldn’t smell the dragon anywhere nearby, so I could not think how he would.

I shook my head. No matter. I spun off my cloak, hung it on one of the hooks near the door and whipped around, ignoring the pointed smirk he gave me when my speed dislodged my dress a bit too much. I put my hands on my hips, eyes flashing, hair mussed, daring him to comment on the gown when I had more important matters at hand. “Do you have any idea if there are any purple shape-shifting dragons in the Inn?”

Read more... )
fireheart: (Dragon)

Cool water slipped off my fingers, the scents of many flowers and herbs permeated the air, the sweeping trees rained their falling blossoms on the water and my hair. I smiled, and waded deeper into the cool pool I sought solitude in. This place was healing to me, welcoming after the trial I had just faced. I was clad in nothing more than a light flowing white linen gown, a bathing gown reminiscent both of my Grecian ties and my elvan heritage. I was not modest tonight, I feared no intrusion, and the gown in question scarcely covered my breasts and back, though its skirt was long. The woods of this place had a way about them…rarely did any intruder unwanted by the grove keeper reach their destination unharmed. And so I sank into the pool, breathing in the scents of the place.

As I lay, I braided the night blooming jasmine into some fallen wisps of the flowering weeping tree, and added in sprigs of the herbs nearby, to form a long rope. I was careful with my choices, and it was rare that I took of the plants of this place. I never did so for pure pleasure; I planned to use this rope for a couple who had a handfasting soon to come. And I sang in my native Elvish language to the grove, softly thanking them for sheltering me once again.

Read more... )

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