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Literature
Alliance - Prologue
He could not be saved.
His mind was dark and cold.
A mass of death.
Decay.
They could not help him.
It had to end.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     "Can you do that?"
     ~Sort of.~
     "What's that supposed to mean?"
     ~I can only cover the area in small portions at a time.~
     Evrickrien sighed, irritated, and pulled into a gas station, muttering under his breath as he got out of a car that he still had trouble thinking of as his own, "You've got to be shitting me."
     The telepathic voice "glowed" softly in his head, in that peculiar way the creature had of speaking to people, its grasp of English still somewhat stilted from lack of use, ~I know you are distressed, but there is little more I can do. I am already at my capacity, unless Jekken—sorry: Ja
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The Night Medic by AlysaTaladay The Night Medic :iconalysataladay:AlysaTaladay 2 5
Literature
Alliance - Four [pt 2]
(If it doesn't make sense, it's probably accurate!)
    The waitress came to take their plates after a few minutes, and Loren asked her to bring back the menus. She came back a minute or so later, and left again.
     “I think I’m going to need a stiff drink,” Jez finally said, “I’ve never had a drink in my life, but if I had a reason to want one. . . .”
     “Ditto on that,” said Mireia, “Sparky?”
     “This is going to sound really weird,” he said softly to a forkful of food he’d been pondering.
     “Try us,” Jez said, taking a good long sip of her tea.
     He drew a breath; and, after a moment’s hesitation, in which he stared at his plate, debating if he should say it, he said cautiously, “I . . . actually remember some of this stuff.”
   &
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Literature
Alliance - Fifteen
(Thirteen and fourteen exclusive to print readers.)
     Rikki parked the bike back at the marina well after dark, and set off across the parking lot with a bag of groceries, sighing to herself. It felt great to get the Drorgs off their hands, but there was still so much left to do, and they’d been idle for far too long. Zirol moved second-to-second, not week-to-week, or even hour-to-hour, which had been the assumption that had nearly gotten Daniel killed. Al and that young Ryozakkan were lucky to have gotten out alive, let alone unscathed. It seemed Zirol might have other intentions. While she couldn’t believe their sheer fortune, she also feared what this might mean for the future.
     The girls had one night, and one night only, to familiarize themselves with the Drorgs’ saddles, before they’d be expected to start flying all over the world. The Agency
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Literature
Alliance - Twelve
(In which our villain finds some sport.)
     Daniel Kago lu’Rizek collapsed into a patio chair, his bright, nova-like hazel eyes gazing blankly out past the twinkling of Palma de Mallorca’s marina lights, at the darkening Mediterranean Sea, just south of Spain. The sun had been less than kind on his brass-toned skin, leaving it a tarnished, browner hue than usual, and he found himself welcoming nightfall more than he usually did, here on one of his favorite seas. He had yet to turn on the lights of his apartment, and it didn’t really matter one way or the other, to him. He was tired enough just to fall asleep, right here. His partner, Algaeflame, was already asleep in the bedroom.
     Across from him, an agent from Wales named Seth Marimoor was sprawled in another chair, sound asleep. Tall and muscular, with strong features, blond hair and a lazy jaw-length haircut,
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Literature
Alliance - Eleven
(Of morning routines and Bernard's inner desire to become a penguin.)
     Bernard woke to find his room pleasantly temperate, and the soft pink glow of the dawning sky outside his window. A couple of seagulls called, and he lay there for a minute, picturing the sun as it glistened cheerfully off the waters of the nearby Atlantic. He groaned.
     Somewhere out there, the Town of Edisto Beach was already alive with early-morning vacationers roaming her beaches, along with the occasional blue-shirted conservation volunteer, out looking for the distinctive tractor-like tracks of sea turtles. His mother had started him doing it back in middle school, and he’d been doing it this year, until now. His mother would probably go on doing it without him, or enlist Odessa for the summer months. He never had liked getting up before dawn, anyway. It was rewarding in the fall, though, when he had to go out at night to inventory the nests. It was often
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Literature
Alliance - Ten
(Job descriptions and whiny brats - I mean cute kids.)
     The next day, around noon, Mireia’s father, Lucas, arrived to pick her up. He had intended just to get her and leave, to get back to the store, until he found out she’d gotten a job with a wealthy private aviator; then he stayed, to wait for Bernard’s mother and Aunt Jessica to show up and hear what their kids would be doing for the summer.
     He was thin, like Mireia, but shorter, with eyes of a cool shamrock green, thin hair a warm, creamy shade of chocolate brown, and youthful features that made him look ten years younger than his forty-plus years. Aunt Jessica was tall, unlike her daughter, with slight features more akin to her son or her young niece than her daughter.
     They were nothing less than thrilled with the news, and spent nearly an hour, over lunch, talking to Loren and Saara, who offered to split the bill between themselves
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Literature
Alliance - Nine .2
(Of rich bastards, ex-lovers, and the world's best pralines.)
(overhauling small sections in brackets, because they sounded God-awful - still in progress)
     “I am not British!”
     “I didn’t say you were.”
     “You just did!”
     “I said you sound British. You made fun of my accent, first, so eat it, partner.”
     Bernard heard Saara and Loren’s voices as they walked through the door of the coffee shop, but he’d generally known where they were ever since Toby had gone to speak to them, just before he’d spoken to Jez and Mireia.
     Meanwhile, Bernard had waited, staring off into space, and keeping his distant gaze on his bagel as he nursed his fourth glass of Diet Coke, feeling very much as though in a sort of dull aftershock following the compl
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AlysaTaladay
Ashley
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
I am a writer and an artist. I am working on a four-book science fiction saga under the name of Alysa Taladay, which is usually referred to as The Saurian Liberation Project and often referred to as The Saga. It is about the rise and development of an alien civilization, and the struggle of its people, genetically altered from mere beasts, to survive and be recognized as a sentient race.

My interests/favorite studies include sciences, history, and creative writing.
I happily possess a Bachelor of Arts in Visual Arts with a double minor in Art History and Graphic Design.

It's been a long goddamn journey, and I've taken a ridiculously long hiatus from dA, working my ass off and doing adult stuff. I've said/done a lot of stupid things in the past that I'm not proud of, and I haven't been the best person. I beg your pardon, and ask that you forgive my foolish bullshit.

That being said, if you do comment, please be constructive. I won't cry and I won't bite. I'm an adult, and a professionally-minded artist. I just want to talk, so please, comment away

**All characters are "original characters" unless otherwise stated. Likewise all content is (c) Alysa Taladay and is mine, unless otherwise stated, and should not be found on any other page, website, forum, or other media without my permission and credit to me.**

Copyright Stamp by PsychoSlaughterman

Commission Information **HIATUS**

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Interests

Activity


Updated a couple of my most recent drawings to include linked references.
Remaining professional and not calling out my own bullshit on dA? Struggle is real, y'all.
I will go a week without hating my species ... but it is Tuesday, and I have already failed for this week. At least three times ... maybe five. Maybe more, but I won't count Sunday.
Most recent upload was via the dA app, which is limited in its abilities. I can't do edits until I sign in to the desktop site. Please be patient!
I don't write about my state because I want people to move there. (please stop) ... I write about how it used to be, because I want to see those days again, when it was quiet and peaceful, and I want to remember the smiles. It's reminiscence, pure and simple.

Comments


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:icontoshema:
toshema Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2017  Student Digital Artist
Thanks allot for the watch !!!
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:iconalysataladay:
AlysaTaladay Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome! :)
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:iconlunarwingsart:
LunarwingsArt Featured By Owner Sep 29, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the :+fav:! ;)
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:iconalysataladay:
AlysaTaladay Featured By Owner Sep 29, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
:D Any time! :D
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ant-under-glass Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2017  New Deviant Student Writer
Thank you for the :+fav:!
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