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13/12/12 @ 12:31am
tagged as
■ art
■ drawings
■ FINE ART BY LESLIE
■ chibis
■ 45 fathoms
■ 45f
■ asher
■ alice
■ horatio
■ and a bunch of other people
i don’t draw manuscript characters enough
30/06/12 @ 10:50pm
tagged as
■ 45 fathoms
■ writing
■ novel bullshit
■ shit nobody cares about
■ no1curr
■ horatio
■ asher
■ ishy
Before I forget, I promised you guys longer novel excerpts before - so here you go!
If this scene seems familiar it’s because it’s one of the ones I’ve rewritten the most. I’ve gotta stop now, though. Have to stop rewriting sometime.
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He sighed, patted dust off his sleeve and looked up. Ishmael sat before him at a beat-up desk, intimidating and unwavering. Three days of stubble hung off his jaw. Hollow cheeks and dark circles smacked of malnutrition.
“Um.” Asher flashed a cautious smile. He bent down and gathered an armful of fallen books. “Hello, Ishmael.” He deposited them on a surviving pile and maneuvered forward.
The man stared without responding. Curious? Suspicious? Out of his mind? Or all three…
16/06/12 @ 08:13pm
tagged as
■ anthony
■ ada
■ mikey
■ kostya
■ dahlia
■ horatio
■ irina
■ jacob
■ nancy
■ jesse
■ erich
■ pia
■ art
■ drawings
■ FINE ART BY LESLIE
■ characters
■ ocs
■ portrait
■ photoset
ordinary people
[un-cut-up version here]
25/04/12 @ 10:49pm
tagged as
■ FINE ART BY LESLIE
■ anthony
■ art
■ body types
■ characters
■ horatio
■ ishmael
■ ocs
■ sketches
three major body types
“What pearls of insight d’you think you can get from me?” Horatio led them through the lanes of working fishermen. “I don’t hear very much out here.”
“It’s our business to ask the questions, Mr. Pierpont.” Reed narrowly avoided tripping over a lobster pot.
“Oh! So this is a questioning!” Horatio’s tone brightened with the revelation. “But then… what’s your business?” He glanced over his shoulder at Mrs. Hackett.
In a miracle of timing a man seated beside her gutted one of his fish. Diana’s face exploded in startled disgust as she sidestepped the gory surprise. The insides hit the dock inches from her white and red-bow heel.
“Is it always like this?!” She lamented out loud as they reached the door.
“Like what?” Horatio turned to face his guests headon.
“… Like this,” she repeated. “The blood and the… smell.”
“Well…” Horatio cocked his eyebrows. “… What did you expect?” His hand returned to his pocket.
Diana made another sour face. “Anyway… I’m Constable Reed’s assistant.”
“You’ll have to do better than that.” Horatio produced his key ring and thumbed through it for the right one. “I’ve got seaman’s intuition, Mrs. Hackett - and it tells me you’ve got no police standing.”
Diana balked. “What d’you think I am, a liar?”
Horatio shook his head and chuckled to himself. “I’d like very much to tell you what you are…” he unlocked and opened the door - “… but there are ladies present.”
Reed and Diana restrained themselves from retorting and followed him inside.