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Ever heard the term 'origin story?' It's a term that basically refers to the backstory or history behind a character or place. So what's a 'story origin?' It's how I began a certain story.
Some people have been asking me where I get ideas for stories...or if I can give them advice to help them get started as writers (no seriously...I'm not bragging, people have asked me that). And while this is flattering, the sad truth is that I...don't honestly know what to tell them. Inspiration is not a switch I can flip. It is fleeting, and it comes and goes as it pleases. So instead, I figured I'd just sort of give you these 'Story Origin' journals, explaining the background behind how I came up with a story and what lead to its creation and my own theories as to why it got popular or unpopular. This way you can draw your own conclusions about the story and about what you can take from it!

So The Night Angel. Those of you who haven't read it, here's the short version: Rebecca Anderson has been hunting monsters since she was a kid. Little did she know that there was a reason for her passion! As monsters begin acting strangely and her father is forced to flee, Rebecca is made aware that a deity of untold power is on his way to her with an evil plan for her. It turns out, Rebecca is not a normal girl; she's a night angel, the offspring of a human and a monster where the human genes are dominate over the monsters. She is a guardian of the night...and yet she doesn't know how to use her gifts. To survive this new threat, she must learn fast, and so she seeks out another night angel named Joshua Rains who may hold the key to her future. 

How'd it Begin?
Several people think I got the idea for this story from Witcher...but that's not true. I hadn't even heard of Witcher when I began this series...heck I didn't even own an Xbox at that point. Actually the truth was that the idea came to me while I was on a hike one day. I was out in the mountains with my buddies from Camp McCall and we were swapping stories. One of them asked if I'd ever seen the movie Blade, a comic movie about a half vampire, half human named Blade who hunts and kills vampires. I had seen the movie, and he asked what if Blade had been part werewolf instead? The thought occured to me that 'vampires killing their own kind" is a cliche stereotype. Hellsing, Blade, Blood Rain, Vampire Hunter X, even Twilight...they all do this. So I thought about a story where a werewolf killed his own kind. But how would I do that? Then I watched a few other movies and read some other materials, including Supernatural and Van Helsing. These gave me new inspiration for a new breed of monster hunter...a more modern one, but with a supernatural fling. However, at that point, I was planning on making Joshua the main character..
Where did Rebecca Anderson come from?
At this point in time, I'd never written a female lead character. I was nervous too, as I wasn't sure how girls think, act, or respond to different things. But, deep down in my gut, I knew that I NEEDED a female for this role. Rebecca was my final creation for the lead. She was meant to be just a female me. I figured the best way to start writing a female character is to take yourself and just change your gender. I then expanded from there. Rebecca is essentially me. Her actions are mine, and that makes her easy to write, as it isn't hard getting inside her head. 
Is it any Good?
Depends on who you ask. To me, it's easily one of my favorites. After playing Witcher, I quickly realized just how much ideas and prospects could be pulled from my concept. I have the advantage of having my story in modern times, which creates a new dynamic and potential in the plot. I love the story and where it's headed. To the readers......it's a hit and miss. To many it's entertaining and thought provoking...but as some have pointed out, it suffers from standard monster hunter cliches, and Rebecca herself isn't that interesting of a character...at least to them. It doesn't help that she is basically ME. When you have a character so closely connected to you that she IS you, it's hard to imagine her going too far beyond the scope of reason, which is necessary for a character as they need the room to explore their potential.
Honorable Mentions?
I can't take all the credit for where this story went. Below I've put together a bunch of fanart that was done for The Night Angel, and all of them deserve mentioning! :iconheuring:, :iconnahemii:, :iconxxphantomriderxx:, :iconmyuoneechan:, :iconsuperjw2:, and :iconlamagwa:. All of them helped give me the drive to keep writing the story! Plus I want to thank my brother and (surprisingly), my own mom who actually gave me some of the ideas for Rebecca's development and attitude. And finally I want to thank my Professor, Dr. Palmer, for giving me the idea of using the Honjo Masamune as the legendary sword of choice in the story! 

Fanart

The Night Angel Comic Logo by GabrielRaven Rebecca Anderson by GabrielRavenThe Night Angel by GabrielRavenThe Night Angel (Page 6) by GabrielRavenRebecca the Night Angel by NahemiiThe Night Angel by XxPhantomRiderxXRequest GabrielRaven - Rebecca by MyuOneeChanA Night Angel and a Grim Reaper by GabrielRaven Night Angel Fan FictionMark picked his way carefully through the woods. The thick trees stood rather sparsely, with thick trunks and branches that spread out, creating a canopy of leaves that, at day, would tint the sunlight green. Tonight, however, something was off, he could tell. Usually, this forest was bustling with life; birds, owls, foxes, raccoons, deer, and so on. Crickets chirping, frogs croaking, owl hooting, birds singing.
However, tonight was dead silent. Not a sound or sign of life was present. Mark was used to strange creatures being in these woods, since he often hunted them. Mark was a skilled monster hunter. Zombies, trolls, giant spiders, he fought them consistently. However, he only hunted feral creatures. He couldn't bring himself to kill creatures with sentience, such as werewolves and vampires, unless in self-defense. But that was besides the point. A strange presence was disturbing his forest, and Mark wasn't going to leave it be.
He kept his hand on the handle of his silver katana as
GabrielRaven's death-archer by lamagwa

I think that about wraps it all up! If ya'll have other questions surrounding The Night Angel, or you want me to discuss another story and where it came from, just comment and let me know! THANK YOU!

Cliff
  • Listening to: Breaking Through by The Wreckage
  • Watching: Jim Gaffigan
  • Drinking: Water

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Cliff Corbett
Artist | Literature
United States
NAME: Cliff Corbett
GENDER: Male
AGE: 21
LOCATION: South Carolina

LIKES:
I love God
I love my family and friends
I like dogs
I enjoy reading, writing, and drawing (even if I'm not that good)
I like to read other peoples work
I love the martial arts
I love the military

DISLIKES:
I don't like cats very much
I am not a fan of bullies and rude people
I hate men that disrespect women
I don't like math
I don't like horror movies and stuff like it

WHAT I DO ON DA:
I am a writer. I have tried drawing and...frankly...I draw horribly. However, I still believe in the power of drawing with words. I want to be a great writer, so I write short stories, poems, and a series called Death Diaries. I do hope that you all enjoy my work and that you will take the time to comment and fav as well. My goal is to improve as a writer and to make as many friends as I can along the way. If you ever want to get writing advice, ask me questions, or just wanna talk, feel free to send me a note or comment. ;) It's really wonderful to meet you all!
Welcome to my site and enjoy!

Cliff Corbett (2012) by GabrielRavenMy Katana by GabrielRavenMy Three Swords by GabrielRaven
PC: GodGriff by LittleOverturesSayajin Muay Thai Kick! by NahemiiArt Trade: Cliff by NahemiiCliff (Tomaki) by GabrielRaven
Songs of Death by HeuringDW Female Death by Heuring
Carol and her Hand Held Cousin by GabrielRaven

One Piece Strawhats Stamp by ZochoNostalgia Critic Fan by gravitta
Interests

Activity


Dalton brought his horse to a hault. The sun was already setting in the distance, and the roads were rather unsafe after dark…especially now. The others slowed as well, looking to him curiously.
“We camp here for the night…there’s a rock formation over there that we can use as a shelter.” Dalton announced, pointing to the cave not far from them. Rasan’s lip curled in contempt.
“I believe we should press on.” He added. “Don’t tell me the prince is afraid of the dark.”
“Not the dark…but what dwells in it.” Dalton replied.
“I agree with, Rasan!” Taria spoke up. “If we wish to reach the Dracuma nesting grounds, we must ride with full haste!”
“Even horses need rest.” Dalton argued. “We won’t get far with weary horses and no rest.” Though still troubled and itching to ride, Rasan and Taria silently agreed and climbed off their mounts.
“We need to set a fire…establish camp.” Taria announced.
“Right. Theia…could you go gather firewood?” Dalton asked. Theia nodded and marched off into the thick woods. “And Rasan…I hate to ask, but we will need freshwater.”
“And because I am a fishman, you assume I can get it?”
“No. Because you’re a fishman, you might be able to tell us where to get it.” Dalton snapped. Rasan flushed a little for jumping to such a hasty conclusion and nodded.
“Right…there’s a river about a mile from here....” He admitted.
“Good. You can go get it.” Dalton smirked. Rasan growled in annoyance.
“Cheeky asshole.”
“Thanks for volunteering.” Dalton laughed. Taria stifled her own giggle as Rasan sprinted off towards the river.
“And what about you?” Taria asked.
“I’ll start setting up camp…though the cave provides shelter, we will need more than mere rock walls to keep out the elements. If it were to rain, we would need-”
“Leave it to me.” Taria answered. “I have learned of water magic from the late king. I will keep our camp dry from any rainstorm.” Dalton acted a little taken aback at her words and then smiled.
“Forgive me…I am constantly reminding myself of the efficiency and convenience of magic.”
“Magic is not a tool or a weapon…magic is an art.” Taria explained importantly. “That is what my king once said.”
“Be that as it may…you can’t deny its effectiveness as a tool. With a mere command, the water obeys your will and the fire dances.”
“It is not a mere ‘tool.’” Taria defended once again. “It might be difficult for one raised by the sword to comprehend, but magic is something that requires years of study and practice. We do not merely utter commands at the elements, but we become one with them…we reach and dip into the ethereal forces of this world and we commune and make them a piece of our will. Then that will becomes reality and physical. Would you do yourself the insult of referring to your swordplay as mere ‘swinging of weapons?’”
“Of course not!”
“Why not? All it pertains is swinging about a sharp piece of metal and making others bleed, isn’t that correct?”
“No! To master the sword, one must dedicate themselves to understanding it and making it a fundamental-”
“Exactly, Prince Dalton. And so it is with magic.” Taria replied firmly. “Just as your swordsmanship is an art, so too is magic.”
“…It seems I still have much to learn about the world, Miss Taria.”
“Please…call me Taria.”

When Theia and Rasan returned, the sun had all but set, and the clouds were rolling lazily across the moon. Theia tossed her wood by the mouth of the cave for Dalton to take and set up a fire pit. It was only moments before Taria used her magic to ignite the logs into a roaring fire. Rasan dropped off a large tankard of water next to the mats and sat down, downing a cups worth.
“So what’s to eat?” Rasan asked.
“We have a few provisions…but we will have to do some hunting soon.” Theia replied. She reached into a bag on the horses saddle, taking out wrapped meats and bread. “For now, this will do.” She passed out the food around the group as they all took seats around the fire. No words were uttered and no conversation was exchanged. Instead it was just a dreary look into a dancing flame. The night wore on slowly and heavily upon the heads of the four travelers. Some exchanged looks at the others between mouthfuls of moist bread and tender meat. Dalton coughed loudly, trying to gather the attention of everyone else around him…when all glanced his direction, he suddenly felt somber again…as if he should have remained quiet.
“Sorry it’s just…this silence is deafening. Is there nothing to do or say between the four of us?”
“…Not really.” Taria muttered. “Rasan and Theia said it themselves…we’re all here on different goals…we’re allies true…but…what is there between us otherwise?” Dalton shook his head and gave a smile.
“I still think that we might go as comrades, not just mere acquaintances. Come, let us speak of our homes…of our people.” None spoke…all remained deep in thought and in silence. Dalton coughed again and sighed in frustration. “I suppose…one must lead by example…especially when he’s a prince.”
“Your title means little here.” Theia spoke up darkly. “ All of us gave up our positions to go on this quest. Do not trouble yourself with standards or expectations, because none are being made.” Dalton blushed and nodded.
“Yes…and to be frank, I haven’t felt so free in a long time.” Dalton laughed.
“Free?” Rasan asked.
“You should know Rasan…being by your Queen’s side at all times. A royal is not a normal person…when you wear a crown it isn’t all feasts and lavish living. There comes a responsibility when you rule…like eyes are always upon you. When you speak, you carry the weight of everyone under you. At summits you speak for the people. At times of war, you carry hope. At times of peace, you carry courage and prosperity.”
“But you are not a king.” Rasan pointed out.
“No. I am crowned prince…which is all the worse.”
“I don’t understand.” Taria shrugged.
“As prince, everyone wonders if you will be up to the job…if you are suited for it. They all watch you carefully to see you groomed into a future king. Will you be the right king for them to follow? Will you benefit or hurt the monarchy and the people as a whole. I must prove myself every day and in every action.” Dalton explained.
“Is that why you took this quest?” Taria asked. “To prove yourself?”
“No…while I’m sure my kin and citizens are hailing me as a hero…I’m doing this for my father, and nothing more.” Dalton tossed a few twigs into the fire and glared at it. “My father is the one man I know I have nothing to prove to. He’s believed in me for as long as I can remember. If I lose him…then the man who raised me and made me believe in myself will be gone forever….then I will have nothing.”
“Foolishness.” Theia barked. “Your actions prove your place. It is not your people, or your father. If you have the power to lead and the tenacity, then show it, don’t prove it. Your actions will speak for you.” Dalton smiled at her and then looked back into the fire once more.
“She’s right.” Rasan slowly nodded. “I know I’m not one to talk on the matters of royalty and such…but…in my opinion, the fact you chose to embark on this quest at all shows merit.”
“I thank you…I-”

The group suddenly fell silent as there was a loud grumbling in the distant night. Theia lept from her seat and grabbed for her axe, moving to the mouth of the cave and looking out. The grumbling turned into a low droll like the last cry of a thunder clap and then was gone.
“What…what was that?” Taria cried.
“…Yaman.” Theia sneered. “I never thought they would get so far south…”
“The Yaman? Already this deep into the countryside?” Dalton asked. “I thought the oni tribes kept them no further than the northern black mountains!”
“We did…but our numbers grow slim with each passing day. We cannot hold them…and the Yaman now attack in fierce waves and numbers. They’re ways of battle are new to us…and we have been ambushed many times. I heard rumors of at least 3 oni camps being raided and overrun by that filth.”
“….will we be safe here? If we can hear the Yaman…”
“It’s only one…likely separated from the others.” Theia replied.
“You know a lot about these beasts…have you…killed many?” Rasan asked.
“….”
“Guess that was an ignorant question.” Rasan growled. “Forgive me.”
“What know any of you of battle?” Theia finally asked, relaxing her guard a little, now feeling less threatened. “My people face battle and bloodshed almost daily…in oni tribes, every day is spent in training. No oni can go without a weapon. The young. The sick. The feeble. The old. There is no exception in our ranks. You will fight, or you will die.”
“Theia…none here are questioning your skill or those of your people in combat.” Taria spoke up.
“No, but I fear you do not understand the true gravity and nature of our sacrifice.” Theia snapped. “You shudder at the sound of a Yaman, when I am already on my feet, blade ready to fight.”
“Theia, that’s not fair…none of us knew it was a Yaman…none of us could have. Thanks to the efforts of the oni, we have never even seen a Yaman, much less heard one.” Dalton pointed out.
“Whether a Yaman or a mere wolf, a threat should not be responded to with fear and hesitation! In battle, hesitation is equal to death!” The group was silent as they looked at Theia, fuming and sneering at them as she threw her axe to the side. The metal weapon struck the ground with a clang as she sat down again and shook her head. “It is I who must ask forgiveness…I too forget…”
“We’re not cowards, Theia.” Rasan responded. “But…your point is well met.”
“I was not expecting there to be such opposition.” Taria added. “In truth, I believed the conflict between my people and the humans was all we might have to contend with.”
“No…” Dalton shook his head. “I fear there’s far worse things than that out there waiting for us…even worse than Yaman perhaps. Theia, you are correct…we can’t afford to hesitate in the face of these dangers. But, I also feel you can relax somewhat. You are not alone in this battle.” Theia relaxed her shoulders some and brushed strands of long hair behind her horns.
“What is it like…living in peace?” She asked.
“…Your people do not enjoy the same kind of peace we do, do you?” Taria asked.
“We cannot afford to know it. Not when the enemy stands at the gate day and night.”
“…When this mission ends, stay with us a while in our kingdom…you shall know what it is to live at ease.” Dalton offered. Theia smiled kindly at Dalton and nodded in agreement.
“A gracious gesture…thank you.” All eyes fell back on the fire as a low hum seemed to resound around the room. All gave pause to that melodious sound that engulfed them all.
“What is it?” Rasan asked.
“…The wind.” Taria answered. “It’s blowing through the cave and causing a sound from echoing off the rocks.”
“It sounds…more like a song of the wild.” Dalton offered. Silence again as everyone embraced and basked in the sound of the wild song of the wilderness…the low humming of misty mountains and swaying forest limbs. It was a paradise of adventure….an ode to untold spoils and visions. What this mission would bring them was uncertain. What the end result of this trip would be was unclear. But what was clear is that there were dangers beyond this cave…and there was hope beyond that still…and for that reason they must brave those dangers. No matter what the cost.  
Seekers of Light (Chapter Seven)
Picture by :iconsasatsuma:

So here's the next chapter of Seekers of Light. Again not so high on the action, but more focused on the dialogue and discussion. To be honest, I want to do it like this for now, as I really need to flesh these characters out. Each is unique and each one provides a new light on the group. Theia, Rasan, Dalton, and Taria are all unique to me and I think that each will be playing highly important roles in the future. 
To be frank I had to force myself to write this. Not that I didn't want to, but I've been struggling to write lately...there may come a time where I will have to stop writing for a long period of time....if that happens, know it's because my creativity is running very low. A lot has changed lately.

Thank ya'll for reading.

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Ever heard the term 'origin story?' It's a term that basically refers to the backstory or history behind a character or place. So what's a 'story origin?' It's how I began a certain story.
Some people have been asking me where I get ideas for stories...or if I can give them advice to help them get started as writers (no seriously...I'm not bragging, people have asked me that). And while this is flattering, the sad truth is that I...don't honestly know what to tell them. Inspiration is not a switch I can flip. It is fleeting, and it comes and goes as it pleases. So instead, I figured I'd just sort of give you these 'Story Origin' journals, explaining the background behind how I came up with a story and what lead to its creation and my own theories as to why it got popular or unpopular. This way you can draw your own conclusions about the story and about what you can take from it!

So The Night Angel. Those of you who haven't read it, here's the short version: Rebecca Anderson has been hunting monsters since she was a kid. Little did she know that there was a reason for her passion! As monsters begin acting strangely and her father is forced to flee, Rebecca is made aware that a deity of untold power is on his way to her with an evil plan for her. It turns out, Rebecca is not a normal girl; she's a night angel, the offspring of a human and a monster where the human genes are dominate over the monsters. She is a guardian of the night...and yet she doesn't know how to use her gifts. To survive this new threat, she must learn fast, and so she seeks out another night angel named Joshua Rains who may hold the key to her future. 

How'd it Begin?
Several people think I got the idea for this story from Witcher...but that's not true. I hadn't even heard of Witcher when I began this series...heck I didn't even own an Xbox at that point. Actually the truth was that the idea came to me while I was on a hike one day. I was out in the mountains with my buddies from Camp McCall and we were swapping stories. One of them asked if I'd ever seen the movie Blade, a comic movie about a half vampire, half human named Blade who hunts and kills vampires. I had seen the movie, and he asked what if Blade had been part werewolf instead? The thought occured to me that 'vampires killing their own kind" is a cliche stereotype. Hellsing, Blade, Blood Rain, Vampire Hunter X, even Twilight...they all do this. So I thought about a story where a werewolf killed his own kind. But how would I do that? Then I watched a few other movies and read some other materials, including Supernatural and Van Helsing. These gave me new inspiration for a new breed of monster hunter...a more modern one, but with a supernatural fling. However, at that point, I was planning on making Joshua the main character..
Where did Rebecca Anderson come from?
At this point in time, I'd never written a female lead character. I was nervous too, as I wasn't sure how girls think, act, or respond to different things. But, deep down in my gut, I knew that I NEEDED a female for this role. Rebecca was my final creation for the lead. She was meant to be just a female me. I figured the best way to start writing a female character is to take yourself and just change your gender. I then expanded from there. Rebecca is essentially me. Her actions are mine, and that makes her easy to write, as it isn't hard getting inside her head. 
Is it any Good?
Depends on who you ask. To me, it's easily one of my favorites. After playing Witcher, I quickly realized just how much ideas and prospects could be pulled from my concept. I have the advantage of having my story in modern times, which creates a new dynamic and potential in the plot. I love the story and where it's headed. To the readers......it's a hit and miss. To many it's entertaining and thought provoking...but as some have pointed out, it suffers from standard monster hunter cliches, and Rebecca herself isn't that interesting of a character...at least to them. It doesn't help that she is basically ME. When you have a character so closely connected to you that she IS you, it's hard to imagine her going too far beyond the scope of reason, which is necessary for a character as they need the room to explore their potential.
Honorable Mentions?
I can't take all the credit for where this story went. Below I've put together a bunch of fanart that was done for The Night Angel, and all of them deserve mentioning! :iconheuring:, :iconnahemii:, :iconxxphantomriderxx:, :iconmyuoneechan:, :iconsuperjw2:, and :iconlamagwa:. All of them helped give me the drive to keep writing the story! Plus I want to thank my brother and (surprisingly), my own mom who actually gave me some of the ideas for Rebecca's development and attitude. And finally I want to thank my Professor, Dr. Palmer, for giving me the idea of using the Honjo Masamune as the legendary sword of choice in the story! 

Fanart

The Night Angel Comic Logo by GabrielRaven Rebecca Anderson by GabrielRavenThe Night Angel by GabrielRavenThe Night Angel (Page 6) by GabrielRavenRebecca the Night Angel by NahemiiThe Night Angel by XxPhantomRiderxXRequest GabrielRaven - Rebecca by MyuOneeChanA Night Angel and a Grim Reaper by GabrielRaven Night Angel Fan FictionMark picked his way carefully through the woods. The thick trees stood rather sparsely, with thick trunks and branches that spread out, creating a canopy of leaves that, at day, would tint the sunlight green. Tonight, however, something was off, he could tell. Usually, this forest was bustling with life; birds, owls, foxes, raccoons, deer, and so on. Crickets chirping, frogs croaking, owl hooting, birds singing.
However, tonight was dead silent. Not a sound or sign of life was present. Mark was used to strange creatures being in these woods, since he often hunted them. Mark was a skilled monster hunter. Zombies, trolls, giant spiders, he fought them consistently. However, he only hunted feral creatures. He couldn't bring himself to kill creatures with sentience, such as werewolves and vampires, unless in self-defense. But that was besides the point. A strange presence was disturbing his forest, and Mark wasn't going to leave it be.
He kept his hand on the handle of his silver katana as
GabrielRaven's death-archer by lamagwa

I think that about wraps it all up! If ya'll have other questions surrounding The Night Angel, or you want me to discuss another story and where it came from, just comment and let me know! THANK YOU!

Cliff
  • Listening to: Breaking Through by The Wreckage
  • Watching: Jim Gaffigan
  • Drinking: Water
The city of Mogui. Years ago it was a town that was prosperous and rich…but now was little more than a ghost town, thwarted by untold calamities and misfortunes. Those who remained clung to strange and bizarre ways of surviving. Now, all were gathered around the town square, murmering in hushed whispers. The moon was high in the sky and it was yellow in color…the harvest moon was upon them. The night of his return was nigh.
Three men wearing long black cloaks and hoods over their heads approached the center of the town. There, standing erect in the focus was a large stone slab, shaped not unlike a coffin. Etched upon it was what appeared to be a humanoid shape…a most grotesque design that would strike discomfort and fear into any who gazed upon its visage…however, to the three men, it was nothing short of inspiring. One drew from his cloak a long ceremonial dagger with a blood red handle. He held it up to the harvest moon, before the strange stone carving and began mumbling a strange incantation before finally speaking.
“Oh great master…hear our cry! Thy sleep cometh to an end! Under the light of this evil night, we beckon you back to this mortal world! Arise, Demon Lord! Arise and be free again!” The crowd around them raised their hands up to the moon as well and repeated the mantra.
“Arise, demon lord! Arise and be free again!” After they spoke, the two men on either side of the dagger holder stepped back and turned to the crowd, who quickly thrust towards them a girl wearing a lovely dress and make up. She was smiling…a deranged and excited grin of glee.
“And lo, we do not call to thee without offering. We give to thee a sacrifice of purity…of flesh…and blood!” The girl was lead to the stone visage and shoved against it, forcing her to hug it tightly. “Behold, master…we give to thee a willing offering! Arise! By blood and flesh shall we call to thee! ARISE DEMON LORD! ARISE AND BE FREE AGAIN!” Without another word, the speaker plunged his dagger into the chest of the woman who cried out in pain…and then began to laugh as her blood oozed upon the stone carving. Her cackles mixed with the chanting of the crowd…it was a low and haunting metranom. The wind began to pick up…and animals near the town began to run in anticipation of what was to come.
The woman fell to the ground, her blood smearing the figure. The three cloaked men bowed low to it and stepped closer. They reached within their cloaks and pulled out three shining white jewels, setting them down around the statue. After the jewels were in place, they dropped to their knees and threw their hands to the sky as blood dripped along the soil.
“We return to you that which was once yours. Your faithful servants call to you! Great demon lord, we beseech you! Return to us in our hour of wanting…and lend us your power! They thirst for power shall be quenched! They lust for destruction shall be appeased! We give you our lives and our offering in humility and in expectation of your might! NOW ARISE! ARISE DEMON LORD! ARISE AND BE FREE AGAIN!” And so the crowd chanted…and began repeating the dreaded metronome, just as the clock struck midnight.
“ARISE, BOALAK THE ANCIENT! BE FREE ONCE MORE!” The middle man cried.

All feel silent as even the wind seemed to lessen. The stone slab before them suddenly began to hum. The blood that had dripped down around the dead girl was now climbing its way back up to the slab, turning the image upon it a horrifying bloody red. The rock began to crack and crumble like bread as bits and pieces fell off. The earth shook like an earthquake, and the townsfolk all cried out in surprise and amazement. The sky around the moon turned a strange red shade, like the blood. The image on the slab suddenly began to move…taking a more distinct shape. The ground cracked and opened as terrifying light could be seen bursting up from the netherworld itself! A great power had been brought…an evil the world had not seen for centuries.
There was a roar like a wild beast and then the slab exploded in all directions. The townsfolk hit the ground in fear…and when they looked up once more…where the slab once stood was a figure…a figure that made blood run cold and breath catch in ones throat. Heart beats quickened as fear became the air itself; so thick one could scarely breathe. His very presence was like being baptized in evil.
Before them stood a man…but not a man. His body was pale, thin, and naked, covered only by a white cloth around his waist. His hair was long, dirty, and grey as it covered his face like a frightening veil. Three large horns could be seen protruding from his head…two on either side, and one on his forehead. As he stood there in silence, he raised his head slightly and a single eye could be seen behind his veild…a single…terrifying…ruby red eye; so deep that those who saw it felt they would fall into it, never to climb out. He stood up straight again and flames crawled around him like coiling tentacles, licking and caressing their master. The fire, to the shock of the onlookers, felt cold. It was…a horrific creature that stood before them. This was no man….it was a monster.
The creature looked around slowly, turning his head to look at the viewers around him. The three robed men closest threw their faces to the ground in worship.
“Lord Boalak the Ancient!” They cried. “Our prayers have been answered! You’ve come! You’ve returned to us at long last!”
“…” Boalak did not answer them, but merely glared around him, his infinitely deep gaze paralyzing the town.
“It’s been many centuries since you were imprisoned by the Exorcists…the world has changed, and your humble followers have suffered greatly without you! But now that can all change! Please, Lord Boalak…master…we urge you…we beseech you…grant us your blessing and your power! Take back this world under your rule! None shall dare oppose you!”
“…” Boalak remained silent and then began looking at his own hands, flexing them and closing them over and over, getting the feel for his own body now. The hooded men seemed a little taken aback.
“My Lord…um…we are here to serve you! You can have whatever you desire! We are your tools to be used as you see fit! We are ready to be yours!” One cried. At this Boalak paused a moment and then he smiled…a sadistic, fanged, horrible grin that stretched across his face like a tapestry. Slowly…oh so lowly did he raised his right hand up over his head, until his open hand faced the moon above. All looked up a moment to see him…his arm now pointed directly at the heavens.

“Your first order…” Boalak finally croaked, “…is sacrifice.”

The screams could be heard from miles around as every townsman there, man, woman, and child felt the pain of a millennium of depraved malice. Blood pooled the earth that day in the City of Mogui. Bodies fell like raindrops upon the earth and only the three cloaked priests remained, trembling like a rabbit before a hungry wolf. It was only then did they understand the gravity of their actions…the consequences. But far too late. The blood upon the ground suddenly levitated upwards like a snake and flew towards the monster, surrounding him like a shield and then latching onto him, taking a solid form as blood red armor. Red spiked shoulder pauldrons now lay upon his shoulders and a chest guard the color of death guarded his body. Gauntlets laced with human blood now clenched his fists for him. His boots, ready to crush the hearts of millions, burnt stone beneath him. He raised his head, revealing a human like face…but with the expression of a being so inhumane. And then those eyes...two bright and deep eyes that held no life...no compassion...no light. They were empty as a hollow tomb. And a third eye sat just under his horn, as deeply red as to bring shame to the blood at his feet. It felt like it’d crawled from the darkest corners of hell.

“N-n-no…th-th-this is not…this is NOT what we wanted!” The first priest cried. “Master! You were going to reward us! W-We…we brought you back! We revived you!” He cried. Boalak’s eyes fell upon the priest and his sinister smile returned. He had no words for them…only that terrifying smile.
“P-Please…sp-spare us!” One finally pleaded. “We are your loyal priests! We will do as you please, just spare our lives!”
“…Your lives…are mine.” Boalak hissed. “So it was…and so it shall be again. This world…shall once again…belong to me.”

Far away from this, Spirit felt her whole body tremble…a cold sweat ran down her forehead and she shook her head.
“This…this is SERIOUSLY bad.” She growled. “Boalak the Ancient…of all the prehistoric monsters they dug up, it had to be HIM!? Tomaki…I gotta get Tomaki and fast.”
The Tale of Tomaki (Chapter 41)
The rise of the Demon Lord, Boalak the Ancient. A new enemy approaches!

So we're finally going into the final act of the Tomaki story. Multiple things will happen in this act, and not the least of which an incredibly dangerous new foe arrives in the form of Boalak! Tell me what ya'll think of this beast that I've written up! It took so long to get this right. XD
For those of you wondering....yes....I rewrote and planned out Boalak's arrival as DETAILED as I could. The town he was summoned in is the chinese word for "devil." The blood sacrifice to summon him is a typical satanist practice of blood sacrifice and is constantly referenced in fantasy media as 'blood magic.' You can think of this as kind of the return of the Kishin in Soul Eater, or the summoning of Satan in Supernatural.
WOW this was difficult to write.

Boalak belongs to me
Spirit belongs to :icontheburningspirit: or :iconthe-winterrose:

PLEASE COMMENT
&
Please Enjoy!
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Tomaki and Victoria by the Falls by GabrielRaven
Tomaki and Victoria by the Falls
YES! 
Just...Just YES!

Thank you SOOOOOOOOO much Hannah for this FANTASTIC piece of art. I couldn't stop staring at this when she finished. It is just mind blowing and amazing! 

What this is is a little sneak preview of a scene coming in Act III of The Tales of Tomaki. In this scene, I refuse to give up too much, but it is on the eve before a great change. Tomaki has gone off on a training mission and Victoria wanted to meet him there. That night they had some passionate play in the lagoon. It was....well it's fun to write out at the very least. But to have Hannah draw it out like this...............GAH I can't stop going crazy over it.

Picture by :iconheuring:
Tomaki and Victoria both belong to me!

PLEASE COMMENT
&
Please Enjoy!
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:iconkymattem:
KyMattEm Featured By Owner 4 hours ago
Hello again. (Seems like I post a lot of comments on your stuff.) I was hoping for some advice from a fellow writer. As I've said before, I'm currently working on a story (the one I've offered up for collab material when It's finished). I was discussing it with my dad, how I was thinking of releasing it on here as individual chapters. He expressed concern that if I do that, then someone might plagiarize it, send it to a publisher as their own work. With that in mind, I now feel conflicted about putting my story on here, even if I finish it. Any thoughts on what to do? Do you ever worry someone might take your work and publish it in their own name?
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:icondonnadarling1412:
DonnaDarling1412 Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2016  New Deviant  Writer
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!

Thank you for the favorite and the watch!! Hamtaro Mouse Emoji-03 (Squee) [V1]
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:icongabrielraven:
GabrielRaven Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2016   Writer
You're so very welcome!
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:iconastral-chan:
Astral-Chan Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2016  Professional Filmographer
Thanks for the watch and faves~ :D So you're a writer! :) What kind of genres do you write? I used to write a lot and now I draw a lot, I still love both XD
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:icongabrielraven:
GabrielRaven Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2016   Writer
Oh I love your work. ^^ I was more than happy to watch. And yes, I'm a writer. Your work kind of made me wanna write about some of your characters. XD
And as for genres....name it and I've tried it. Hahaha! I love fantasy and sci fi, but I'm doing some mystery and some romance. I even did a horror once...didn't go well. XD
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:icondarth-drago:
Darth-Drago Featured By Owner Jul 21, 2016
Hey, I have a questions about Tomaki: Is the Dragon Balls, the iconic of the DB series going to be in your story?
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:icongabrielraven:
GabrielRaven Featured By Owner Jul 21, 2016   Writer
Hahaha! No no, see this isn't REALLY the same universe as Dragon Ball Z. I used the concept of the Saiyans...but I did not want to use the same world.
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:iconkymattem:
KyMattEm Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2016
I suppose this gives me more reason to try reading the story, since my biggest reservation about it is that, while I enjoyed the DBZ series once upon a time (like, up till I was twelve or so), my interest in the series is almost nonexistent at this point. Anyways, personally, I'm glad to know it's in its own universe (or maybe multiverse at this point?)
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:icondarth-drago:
Darth-Drago Featured By Owner Jul 22, 2016
Okay, Thanks for answering my question.
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:iconkaiserdeathiv:
KaiserDeathIV Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2016
I have sad news for you. Earlier today, at Frances Independence day, 77+ people died at a new terrorist attack in Niece.
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