True to my word ( although a little delayed... ) My skills have been updated. Feel free to go and rate away. The sweep picking one is terrible, by the way. I put it up because it IS the state of my skill at the moment, and it wouldn't really be decent of me to leave it off just to improve my ratings...
So I'm always at a huge money deficit, so it's hard to get tickets to concerts I want to go to. I recently came across a site that offers a 100 dollar ticketmaster gift card as one of it's prizes, but it's a fairly steep requirement to get there..
It's as simple as that. If you try it once and don't like it, fair enough, but I'd highly appreciate it if you'd try it once. Every little bit counts. =D
And as bandwagon as this sounds, it really wasn't, I put a lot of thought into it this time ( And with the prior experience required, although I still maintain that the Spider was a good purchase other than the fact that I got a stack, but the stack could be useful now because I have a cab that I can use for other things... ) ...I digress.
I got a Peavey Valveking.
I've noticed a couple things though...
1) For some reason, every time I looked over a Valveking, the reverbs were from different companies.
Aaand
2) I may be switching out their classic voiced speaker for a more modern voiced one.
BUT IT STILL KICKS SOME MAJOR ASS.
I've recorded a bunch of demos, too damned lazy to upload them tonight. Perhaps later. =P
Hey everyone, it'd be MUCHO APRECIATED </hard candy> if you all went over and checked out my submission to the Shredder Contest on the Dean Guitars site.
The girl's eyes flitted open. For a moment, they remained soft, innocent almost. She bought her hand up to rub her eyes, then stopped. Her gaze rested upon the scar on the side of her hand. Her eyes hardened, her cold stare making its way across her bruised body. Slowly, she pulled herself off of the floor, making her way over to the mirror. She stared for a moment, her face darkening, before pulling on her robe. Her thoughts slowly faded back to memories as the light caught the bloodstains on the only clothing she had known for so long. She came back to the present. Her eyes flashed gray in the mirror. She was ready.
He was scared. They had all left him. One by one. He had tried to stop them, tried to explain himself. No one had ever listened. No one but her. But she hadn’t wanted to. He couldn’t let her go. He never had anyone else. He felt sick. If anyone ever found out…he couldn’t let himself be alone again. No matter what.
She softly made her way down the stairs. There was no need. He wouldn’t be here at this time of day. He never was. She reached the bottom of the stairs. Her cold eyes came to rest on the same locked door she had seen for so many years. She became angry. For the first time, she reached out and turned the handle. The door swung open. She allowed herself the first small smile in many years. She would be ready.
He was stuck in traffic. His mind was racing. He had seen the darkness in her stare. She wasn’t weak anymore. He wished that she could have understood from the beginning. He loathed himself. He couldn’t bring himself to trap her, but couldn’t bring himself to let her know she was free. He needed to get to her.
The door swung open. The secretary glanced up. “Can I help you?” A cold mutter. “I’m here for him.” She was standing a few feet away from the desk. The whole room couldn’t help but to turn. Her eyes dimmed to gray. There was a long, cold silence. She opened fire.
He turned off the radio. It couldn’t be. A cold sweat overtook him. He turned around. The traffic was still at a standstill. He could hear the sirens. He opened the door, got out, and started to run.
She was at his door. She pulled it open. Unlocked. The room was empty. She allowed his guns to fall to the floor. She climbed onto the table and waited. Her eyes closed for a moment. She was in control, for the first time.
He was still running. He rounded the corner. His door was ajar. He slowed, panting. He walked into the room.
She opened her eyes. There he was. She watched him pick up his guns in disbelief. He was frightened. He held out his hand, almost pleadingly. Her eyes softened. A thousand emotions. Pity, guilt, fear, regret. Loss. There was a click. He looked down at the bomb beneath his feet. His bomb. Her eyes. Their world ended.
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Shard Heilia's blogs, last updated : April 18, 2009
