Tomorrow I move apartments, hopefully it won't take forever and I'll blog at a decent hour, but don't expect too much.
*******************************
I emerge from the sewer having already decided to take the Bandit King to the temple. The way I figure I'm going to have a better chance of speaking to him there than if I let him be taken to jail. Milk stops me and hands me a blank piece of paper and an empty inkwell. He tells me the items belong to the Bandit King, who dropped them, and I don't doubt it. I add the items to my bag of holding which contains all the Bandit King's other items. Then Milk tries to tell me the blank piece of paper is important, that I seriously doubt. I keep it anyway though. I take the Bandit King to a windowless room in the temple, tell the priests and clerics he's claimed sanctuary, and leave him to regain consciousness.
As I walk into the church proper I see Zog lying on a bed. It turns out that the guard's bells were signaling that he'd been shot. Zog lives, but only just, and only because he's a powerful wizard. I briefly reconsider my idea to let the Bandit King live and wonder if I should just go back and slit his throat, but I stop myself, I don't slaughter people like that, and I want to give the half-elf a chance to speak for himself. I wander outside the temple to find out what happened to Archer and the others.
I ask a guard and he directs me to the jail. When I arrive I find one wall of the jail busted down and Dread Pirate Roberts, Kough, and Rouge facing off against Archer, who is locked in a cell. I ask what happened and Dread Pirate Roberts informs me they chased Archer out of the sewer and across town. Dread Pirate Roberts was able to dominate him and remove his weapons, armor, and items, then he took Archer to jail. Apparently that's when Rouge showed up and, not knowing Zog lived, went all crazy on the guards trying to get at and kill Archer. She was relentless and it took Kough bursting through a wall to make her calm down and see reason. She had just thrown one last brick when I arrive.
Shortly after I arrive Kough returns to the temple and Rouge goes off in search of Foxface. Dread Pirate Roberts remains in the jail, and for a second I think I glimpse Stealthlina in a servant outfit in the corner, but she's gone before I can confirm it. As it seems things are settled I head back to the temple to see if Bandit King is awake. I wish there is something I could do about Archer though, because I don't like the idea of him in jail.
The clerics at the temple inform me the Bandit King has awoken and is throwing a bit of a fit over being locked away and close to naked. They tell me that, per my instructions, no one has gone in to speak with him. I enter the room weaponless and lock the door behind me. We face off for a long moment before Bandit King says "we're from the same kingdom half-elf". I struggle to keep my bitter laughter from escaping at the idea that we are similar. I may have been born in that kingdom, but I wasn't raised in it and I certainly wasn't part of it. I save the melodramatic truths for later though and instead ask the Bandit King to explain himself.
The Bandit King says his name is Zin. He explains that a few years ago his entire family and villiage was descimated by a group of drow. He says after that there was nothing left for him, no noble pursuits and so he turned to stealing to make his livelihood. I ask him to rethink his ways, for I know elven warriors to be noble. Zin agrees to adventure with me on the condition that I return all of his stuff to him and free Archer (his brother Zan) with all his gear as well. In addition Zin wasn't to make enough money flows in to pay all his expenses, but then he'll stay the straight and narrow.
I feel like we've reached a decent bargain, and I agree to the terms. Before I leave to see about freeing Zan I ask Zin to look at the blank parchment. He says there are words written on it and it's signed by the mayor but none of it makes sense. It seems to indicate the mayor was in league with someone in our group who was a tracker, and he was plotting to steal the bowl. Zan claims to know nothing about the letter and I believe him. I begin to wonder about Milk's true loyalties. Then I head out to find Zan.
************************
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Friday, August 10, 2012
BEDAugust 10
Hope you're enjoying the Dungeons and Dragon's Journal, cause it's gonna keep coming.
********************
The walk back to the city and the temple is a two day journey. As we set out Oog grabs a rabbit, when he releases the creature it moves very slowly but he speeds away. I rethink my initial evaluation of the half-orc, it seems that he doesn't require better weapons. I make a note to not underestimate him again. The first day and a half of our journey go smoothly but just as I begin to think we might make it unscathed the Bandit King appears to ruin everything.
Thirteen hill giants lumber out of the trees, already angry and on the attack. I know in an instant who is behind the attack, and rush into the trees looking for the Bandit King. I find more than I bargain for as an arrow shoots past me and buries itself deep into Milk's chest. Only Shallahai's quick action saves him from death. It seems that Archer (the captain of the first bandit group we encountered) wasn't as dead as we had hoped. I guess it makes a lot more sense that Bandit King returned for his body then. The two of them continue to flit from tree to tree, appearing and disappearing in a very frustrating way. I go back to fighting the hill giants, there will be time for killing bandits later.
Zog and Ariella launch spell after spell and Oog throws these strange exploding balls that make short work of most of the hill giants. I find myself even more impressed by the half-orc, and I plan to study and speak with him more when time allows. The remaining three giants fall easily to the rest of us, after all we've had experience. Bandit King and Archer however, flee as soon as the last giant falls. I try to catch them, but they move quicker than I do, and have an ability to disappear that I do not possess. From what I can see they headed towards the city so we continue on our way.
When we arrive the first thing we do is take the tub to the temple. The priests inform us it will take them a week to gather the ingredients and prayers necessary to heal Kough. They dismiss all charges against Stealthlina and pay a rather handsome sum to Dread Pirate Roberts, Milk, and Foxface for their help. When we exit the temple a town guard stops and informs us that the Mayor has been arrested for conspiracy against the church. It seems there is suspicion that he is working with the thieves guild and trying to steal the tub. I note that Milk vanishes while the guard is still speaking.
After the guard dismisses us we split and go our separate ways. I spend my time asking the locals if anyone has seen Archer or Bandit King. I notice that Milk is hanging at the tavern, Foxface and Shallahai seem to have set up a camp in an alley, Garr returns to the temple to guard the bowl, Pixie, Rouge, and Zog go off in search of some other wizard, Dread Pirate Roberts downright disappears, and Lily and Stealthlina head off towards the jail. Not long after they leave I hear the howling of a wolf and hope they're not getting themselves into more trouble considering we just got them out of it. My search seems fruitless, and I begin to think that perhaps Bandit King and Archer didn't come here after all when the guards sound the alarm bells.
The bells draw me to the square outside the marketplace. There I find Dread Pirate Roberts, Rouge, and Pixie already gathered. In the center of the square Oog lies dead with a very familiar arrow sprouting from his next. I immediately search the surroundings for Archer, and when I catch a glimpse of his black bandanna on a nearby roof I take off running without a second thought. I manage to track him for a few blocks, but lose the trail in a back alley that doesn't seem to have any exits. When I return to the square Dread Pirate Roberts is ranting about how the bandits are after us and are trying to pick us off one by one. He believes Ariella is the next target and tries to convince everyone to go to the temple and protect her. I point out that if everyone is gathered around her she won't be as much of a target. Dread Pirate Roberts agrees, and the decision is made we all need to gather together.
Since it seems Milk has no interest in leaving the tavern we gather there. Garr and Zog both refuse to come, they have other obligations. I'm not the biggest fan of this idea, because any attack will likely result in a huge fight, and I'm not keen on the idea of being banned from drinking in the best tavern. Luckily Rouge has the idea of heading to the roof and as soon as we step on it arrows fly our way. I have Archer in my sights now and there's no way I'm letting him go this time. Without explaining to anyone what I've seen I take off running. I track Archer through the jail, ignoring the protests of the guards, through a series of back alleys, finding a discarded thunderstone, and finally catch a glimpse of him disappearing into the sewers. The guards alarm bells are ringing again, but I don't care to find out why. I barrel down the alley and drop into the sewer.
I hit the sewer floor running and after a few seconds hear Dread Pirate Roberts, Ariella, and Rouge drop in behind me. The Bandit King springs from one of the dark corners, but I'm ready for him. He barely has time to get in a single blow before I reduce him to unconsciousness. When he drops I hear a soft cry and see Archer watching from down the tunnel. He shoots an arrow but misses me wildly, then he turns and runs. I debate chasing after him, but Ariella, Rouge, and Dread Pirate Roberts take off immediately, and I figure they can handle it. I turn my attention back to the unconscious Bandit King. I strip him of his weapons and as I remove his armor and clothing (to make sure he has no magical items), I notice a tattoo on his left forearm.
It's a tattoo I recognize from my childhood, the mark of an elven warrior. A quick check of his other arm and head reveals he's a half-elf, for true elven warriors bear a tattoo on both arms. A memory comes back to me of elven maidens that were stolen away and returned with half-elf children. I remember that the King accepted this children and let them become lesser warriors, Bandit King must be one of these children. I wrack my brain but I can't remember who took the elven maidens. As I stare at the tattoo my mind spins. I had planned to kill Bandit King, but the elven warriors are a noble group. Even the half-elves would have stood for justice, and I can't believe one of them is now a murdering Bandit King. I find that I can't simply kill him, not a half-elf of my mother's kingdom, not someone who used to be a noble warrior. I have to get answers.
I strip him of the rest of his armor and leave only enough clothes to make him decent. Then I throw the unconscious body over my shoulder and head out of the sewer.
**************************
********************
The walk back to the city and the temple is a two day journey. As we set out Oog grabs a rabbit, when he releases the creature it moves very slowly but he speeds away. I rethink my initial evaluation of the half-orc, it seems that he doesn't require better weapons. I make a note to not underestimate him again. The first day and a half of our journey go smoothly but just as I begin to think we might make it unscathed the Bandit King appears to ruin everything.
Thirteen hill giants lumber out of the trees, already angry and on the attack. I know in an instant who is behind the attack, and rush into the trees looking for the Bandit King. I find more than I bargain for as an arrow shoots past me and buries itself deep into Milk's chest. Only Shallahai's quick action saves him from death. It seems that Archer (the captain of the first bandit group we encountered) wasn't as dead as we had hoped. I guess it makes a lot more sense that Bandit King returned for his body then. The two of them continue to flit from tree to tree, appearing and disappearing in a very frustrating way. I go back to fighting the hill giants, there will be time for killing bandits later.
Zog and Ariella launch spell after spell and Oog throws these strange exploding balls that make short work of most of the hill giants. I find myself even more impressed by the half-orc, and I plan to study and speak with him more when time allows. The remaining three giants fall easily to the rest of us, after all we've had experience. Bandit King and Archer however, flee as soon as the last giant falls. I try to catch them, but they move quicker than I do, and have an ability to disappear that I do not possess. From what I can see they headed towards the city so we continue on our way.
When we arrive the first thing we do is take the tub to the temple. The priests inform us it will take them a week to gather the ingredients and prayers necessary to heal Kough. They dismiss all charges against Stealthlina and pay a rather handsome sum to Dread Pirate Roberts, Milk, and Foxface for their help. When we exit the temple a town guard stops and informs us that the Mayor has been arrested for conspiracy against the church. It seems there is suspicion that he is working with the thieves guild and trying to steal the tub. I note that Milk vanishes while the guard is still speaking.
After the guard dismisses us we split and go our separate ways. I spend my time asking the locals if anyone has seen Archer or Bandit King. I notice that Milk is hanging at the tavern, Foxface and Shallahai seem to have set up a camp in an alley, Garr returns to the temple to guard the bowl, Pixie, Rouge, and Zog go off in search of some other wizard, Dread Pirate Roberts downright disappears, and Lily and Stealthlina head off towards the jail. Not long after they leave I hear the howling of a wolf and hope they're not getting themselves into more trouble considering we just got them out of it. My search seems fruitless, and I begin to think that perhaps Bandit King and Archer didn't come here after all when the guards sound the alarm bells.
The bells draw me to the square outside the marketplace. There I find Dread Pirate Roberts, Rouge, and Pixie already gathered. In the center of the square Oog lies dead with a very familiar arrow sprouting from his next. I immediately search the surroundings for Archer, and when I catch a glimpse of his black bandanna on a nearby roof I take off running without a second thought. I manage to track him for a few blocks, but lose the trail in a back alley that doesn't seem to have any exits. When I return to the square Dread Pirate Roberts is ranting about how the bandits are after us and are trying to pick us off one by one. He believes Ariella is the next target and tries to convince everyone to go to the temple and protect her. I point out that if everyone is gathered around her she won't be as much of a target. Dread Pirate Roberts agrees, and the decision is made we all need to gather together.
Since it seems Milk has no interest in leaving the tavern we gather there. Garr and Zog both refuse to come, they have other obligations. I'm not the biggest fan of this idea, because any attack will likely result in a huge fight, and I'm not keen on the idea of being banned from drinking in the best tavern. Luckily Rouge has the idea of heading to the roof and as soon as we step on it arrows fly our way. I have Archer in my sights now and there's no way I'm letting him go this time. Without explaining to anyone what I've seen I take off running. I track Archer through the jail, ignoring the protests of the guards, through a series of back alleys, finding a discarded thunderstone, and finally catch a glimpse of him disappearing into the sewers. The guards alarm bells are ringing again, but I don't care to find out why. I barrel down the alley and drop into the sewer.
I hit the sewer floor running and after a few seconds hear Dread Pirate Roberts, Ariella, and Rouge drop in behind me. The Bandit King springs from one of the dark corners, but I'm ready for him. He barely has time to get in a single blow before I reduce him to unconsciousness. When he drops I hear a soft cry and see Archer watching from down the tunnel. He shoots an arrow but misses me wildly, then he turns and runs. I debate chasing after him, but Ariella, Rouge, and Dread Pirate Roberts take off immediately, and I figure they can handle it. I turn my attention back to the unconscious Bandit King. I strip him of his weapons and as I remove his armor and clothing (to make sure he has no magical items), I notice a tattoo on his left forearm.
It's a tattoo I recognize from my childhood, the mark of an elven warrior. A quick check of his other arm and head reveals he's a half-elf, for true elven warriors bear a tattoo on both arms. A memory comes back to me of elven maidens that were stolen away and returned with half-elf children. I remember that the King accepted this children and let them become lesser warriors, Bandit King must be one of these children. I wrack my brain but I can't remember who took the elven maidens. As I stare at the tattoo my mind spins. I had planned to kill Bandit King, but the elven warriors are a noble group. Even the half-elves would have stood for justice, and I can't believe one of them is now a murdering Bandit King. I find that I can't simply kill him, not a half-elf of my mother's kingdom, not someone who used to be a noble warrior. I have to get answers.
I strip him of the rest of his armor and leave only enough clothes to make him decent. Then I throw the unconscious body over my shoulder and head out of the sewer.
**************************
Thursday, August 9, 2012
BEDAugust 9
More Dungeons and Dragons story!
***************
The eggs make me hesitate for a moment, but as the dragon continues to feast on it's fallen enemy I figure why not just try to walk across the room. As I creep around the room towards the large doors the dragons stops it's feasting. It doesn't make a move though, so I continue moving across the room. I make sure to keep far from the eggs as I can and manage to make it to the door. Milk and the Dread Pirate Roberts also begin to cross the room, but they get closer to the eggs than I want them too. Shallahai looks at the eggs and says they seem to be petrified and dead.
The dragon continues to watch me, and it gives me the creeps. It seems to exude death. It smells of death and looks like death and as it stares at me I can feel death creeping up behind me. It reminds me of the way Dread Pirate Roberts sometimes smells when he lets his guard down. Just when I'm deciding to turn around Pixie and the Dread Pirate Roberts start speaking to the dragon. The say the dragon claims the treasure is locked and it's hers. Dread Pirate Roberts converses with the dragon at length, and they even speak in something that isn't Draconic, something older. As they talk I figure I might as well make my way all the way to the door. I get to the door and easily unlock it.
That gets the dragon's attention. Before I can even blink it has swung around and bent down so it's head hovers inches from my face. I imagine that someone who was afraid of death would have been shaken by that, but I was raised a warrior and I just found out my father is a Demon Prince, it takes more than a dragon to scare me. I face the dragon and push the treasure room door open with my foot. I don't speak draconic but I raise a large bag of gold and figure my message is clear enough.
The dragon speaks, and I find myself able to understand, although I don't speak Draconic. The dragon says her name is Tzevokalas. She says that if I add the jeweled gold scimitars I acquired then I'm free to take what I like. I have no attachment to the scimitars, so I agree. I drop my gold and the scimitars and Pixie and I waltz into the vault. The room is filled to the brim with treasure, but I know better than to touch anything other than the healing tub. The crystal tub is easily recognizable, and Pixie shrinks it so we can easily carry it away.
As we leave Tzevokalas thanks us for the trade and promises she won't attack us...until we leave the dwarven city. It's nice of her to give us such a head start. We leave the city slower than we entered, hoping the delay would perhaps make the dragon forget about us and return to devouring the red dragon's corpse. As we exit the city a large shadow passes over the moon, it seems the dragon hasn't forgotten us after all. Shortly after that we realize the horses are gone, which makes outrunning the dragon seem almost impossible. Luckily she doesn't seem interesting in attacking us.
After a LONG, hot, and boring walk back to Zog's tower Garr decides perhaps we need an escort to get the tub back to the temple and Kough. Garr hires an orc shaman named Oog, who is strangely weaponless, carrying just two kukri shaped sticks and a dagger. Pixie, Rouge, and the Dread Pirate Roberts all go speak to Zog. The Dread Pirate Roberts speaks to him alone, which is strange as they don't know each other. I have no interest in an escort, but I was curious to know if they were still have trouble with the bandit king. I go to find the captain of the guard, only to learn that he was killed a few days ago outside of the Wailing Griffin.
I let the others do as they please and go to the tavern to see if anyone knows anything. The barmaid says she remembers someone matching the Bandit King's description. She tells me he didn't order a single drink but simply sat in the tavern and spoke with a gorgeous blonde wizard (her words not mine). She says the Bandit King stayed the night the evening the captain was killed but left early the next morning, before she'd even set out breakfast. She even helpfully points out the wizard the Bandit King spoke to. I recognize him as Russel. Garr spoke to him earlier about being a member of our guard but was suspicious about him being evil and turned him down in the end.
I sit down across from Russel, prepared to question him. Imagine my surprise when he calls me Riley. Very few things startle me, but a complete stranger knowing a name I share with no one will do it. I momentarily forget that I'm there to ask him about the Bandit King as he tells me he knows who I am. Russel explains he knows my father Pireal. He says Pireal is a high level Demon Prince and rules a lust level of the abyss. He also casually mentions that Pireal has another child, a boy named Raven. I have a brother. Eventually I remember my mission and Russel informs me that the Bandit King was simply looking for his weapons.
I leave the tavern with many thoughts racing through my head. I have my father's name now, and more than that I have a sibling. A whole new world has opened up to me, one where I might have family again. I'm still in a daze as we head out with Zog and Oog. I'm happy for the two day walk, as it will give me time to think about what I've discovered.
*************
Until tomorrow.
***************
The eggs make me hesitate for a moment, but as the dragon continues to feast on it's fallen enemy I figure why not just try to walk across the room. As I creep around the room towards the large doors the dragons stops it's feasting. It doesn't make a move though, so I continue moving across the room. I make sure to keep far from the eggs as I can and manage to make it to the door. Milk and the Dread Pirate Roberts also begin to cross the room, but they get closer to the eggs than I want them too. Shallahai looks at the eggs and says they seem to be petrified and dead.
The dragon continues to watch me, and it gives me the creeps. It seems to exude death. It smells of death and looks like death and as it stares at me I can feel death creeping up behind me. It reminds me of the way Dread Pirate Roberts sometimes smells when he lets his guard down. Just when I'm deciding to turn around Pixie and the Dread Pirate Roberts start speaking to the dragon. The say the dragon claims the treasure is locked and it's hers. Dread Pirate Roberts converses with the dragon at length, and they even speak in something that isn't Draconic, something older. As they talk I figure I might as well make my way all the way to the door. I get to the door and easily unlock it.
That gets the dragon's attention. Before I can even blink it has swung around and bent down so it's head hovers inches from my face. I imagine that someone who was afraid of death would have been shaken by that, but I was raised a warrior and I just found out my father is a Demon Prince, it takes more than a dragon to scare me. I face the dragon and push the treasure room door open with my foot. I don't speak draconic but I raise a large bag of gold and figure my message is clear enough.
The dragon speaks, and I find myself able to understand, although I don't speak Draconic. The dragon says her name is Tzevokalas. She says that if I add the jeweled gold scimitars I acquired then I'm free to take what I like. I have no attachment to the scimitars, so I agree. I drop my gold and the scimitars and Pixie and I waltz into the vault. The room is filled to the brim with treasure, but I know better than to touch anything other than the healing tub. The crystal tub is easily recognizable, and Pixie shrinks it so we can easily carry it away.
As we leave Tzevokalas thanks us for the trade and promises she won't attack us...until we leave the dwarven city. It's nice of her to give us such a head start. We leave the city slower than we entered, hoping the delay would perhaps make the dragon forget about us and return to devouring the red dragon's corpse. As we exit the city a large shadow passes over the moon, it seems the dragon hasn't forgotten us after all. Shortly after that we realize the horses are gone, which makes outrunning the dragon seem almost impossible. Luckily she doesn't seem interesting in attacking us.
After a LONG, hot, and boring walk back to Zog's tower Garr decides perhaps we need an escort to get the tub back to the temple and Kough. Garr hires an orc shaman named Oog, who is strangely weaponless, carrying just two kukri shaped sticks and a dagger. Pixie, Rouge, and the Dread Pirate Roberts all go speak to Zog. The Dread Pirate Roberts speaks to him alone, which is strange as they don't know each other. I have no interest in an escort, but I was curious to know if they were still have trouble with the bandit king. I go to find the captain of the guard, only to learn that he was killed a few days ago outside of the Wailing Griffin.
I let the others do as they please and go to the tavern to see if anyone knows anything. The barmaid says she remembers someone matching the Bandit King's description. She tells me he didn't order a single drink but simply sat in the tavern and spoke with a gorgeous blonde wizard (her words not mine). She says the Bandit King stayed the night the evening the captain was killed but left early the next morning, before she'd even set out breakfast. She even helpfully points out the wizard the Bandit King spoke to. I recognize him as Russel. Garr spoke to him earlier about being a member of our guard but was suspicious about him being evil and turned him down in the end.
I sit down across from Russel, prepared to question him. Imagine my surprise when he calls me Riley. Very few things startle me, but a complete stranger knowing a name I share with no one will do it. I momentarily forget that I'm there to ask him about the Bandit King as he tells me he knows who I am. Russel explains he knows my father Pireal. He says Pireal is a high level Demon Prince and rules a lust level of the abyss. He also casually mentions that Pireal has another child, a boy named Raven. I have a brother. Eventually I remember my mission and Russel informs me that the Bandit King was simply looking for his weapons.
I leave the tavern with many thoughts racing through my head. I have my father's name now, and more than that I have a sibling. A whole new world has opened up to me, one where I might have family again. I'm still in a daze as we head out with Zog and Oog. I'm happy for the two day walk, as it will give me time to think about what I've discovered.
*************
Until tomorrow.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
BEDAugust 8
In case you forgot between yesterday and today I'm simply catching up on my Dungeons and Dragons campaign journal. Enjoy.
**************************
I figure there's no point in turning back now, so I begin to march over the next bridge towards the stalactite. Death is coming for everyone, and I might as well meet it in the jaws of a dragon. It would make a better story. I don't bother to hide my approach, the dragon likely already knows I'm there anyway. Everyone trails behind me, I'm not sure if they want to come, but I've discovered that when I make the decision to go the rest of the party often follows. I imagine it's because I carry the biggest weapon. As we're walking Rouge trips over something and hits the ground hard, sending and echo through the cavern.
A low buzzing starts up somewhere in the cavern, and I ready my great axe, figuring whatever it is will be coming for us. The buzzing gets louder and louder and a large black cloud begins moving towards us. As the cloud gets closer we can discern that the cloud is made up of black reptilian insects which Shallahai identifies immediately as stirges. The stirges surround us and we begin to hack and slash our way through them. There numbers seem almost endless, and I'm not entirely sure we're going to get any farther, certainly not this way. That's when Ariella decided to take matters into her own hands. She launches a series of fireballs that take out the majority of the stirges. Of course she also hits Garr and the Dread Pirate Roberts, but seeing as the other option was getting devoured by reptilian insects neither of them seem to mind. We make short work of the remaining creatures and continue across the bridge.
Even before we reach the stalactite I can smell the metallic scent of blood. The air is thick with it, and it's not blood newly spilt, it's the scent of old blood, the blood of the long dead. The scent only gets stronger as we enter the stalactite and make our way up the stairs towards the flickering fire. At the top of the stairs is a large open room, like a cathedral, and sprawled across the flood is the body of a giant red dragon. The dragon has been dead for awhile, and blood pools around it. There are more stirges covering the body and the blood pools. They are feasting on the creature and drinking the blood.
As we enter the room I feel a strange sadness to see such a magnificent creature of fire lying dead and decaying. That's when I notice that the carcass is moving, as if there is something feasting on it from the inside. I move boldly closer, ready to face more stirges, but what raises from the red dragon's body is not a stirge. A large snakelike dragon with scales of black pearl raises it's head and stares me down. The Dread Pirate Roberts speaks to it in a language I vaguely recognize as draconic. I wonder at him knowing such a language, and make a note to look into him a bit more later. The dragon, however, isn't as interested and merely returns to devouring the carcass.
With the dragon intent on it's meal I take a better look around the room. Across the way I can see a large door, which I recognize as leading to the treasure room. I know I must get to it if our mission is to be completed and Kough healed. I search the room for anything that could prove useful and that's when I noticed them. Tucked behind the carcass of the red dragon, a nest of black pearl dragon eggs. Well shit.
****************************
Until tomorrow.
**************************
I figure there's no point in turning back now, so I begin to march over the next bridge towards the stalactite. Death is coming for everyone, and I might as well meet it in the jaws of a dragon. It would make a better story. I don't bother to hide my approach, the dragon likely already knows I'm there anyway. Everyone trails behind me, I'm not sure if they want to come, but I've discovered that when I make the decision to go the rest of the party often follows. I imagine it's because I carry the biggest weapon. As we're walking Rouge trips over something and hits the ground hard, sending and echo through the cavern.
A low buzzing starts up somewhere in the cavern, and I ready my great axe, figuring whatever it is will be coming for us. The buzzing gets louder and louder and a large black cloud begins moving towards us. As the cloud gets closer we can discern that the cloud is made up of black reptilian insects which Shallahai identifies immediately as stirges. The stirges surround us and we begin to hack and slash our way through them. There numbers seem almost endless, and I'm not entirely sure we're going to get any farther, certainly not this way. That's when Ariella decided to take matters into her own hands. She launches a series of fireballs that take out the majority of the stirges. Of course she also hits Garr and the Dread Pirate Roberts, but seeing as the other option was getting devoured by reptilian insects neither of them seem to mind. We make short work of the remaining creatures and continue across the bridge.
Even before we reach the stalactite I can smell the metallic scent of blood. The air is thick with it, and it's not blood newly spilt, it's the scent of old blood, the blood of the long dead. The scent only gets stronger as we enter the stalactite and make our way up the stairs towards the flickering fire. At the top of the stairs is a large open room, like a cathedral, and sprawled across the flood is the body of a giant red dragon. The dragon has been dead for awhile, and blood pools around it. There are more stirges covering the body and the blood pools. They are feasting on the creature and drinking the blood.
As we enter the room I feel a strange sadness to see such a magnificent creature of fire lying dead and decaying. That's when I notice that the carcass is moving, as if there is something feasting on it from the inside. I move boldly closer, ready to face more stirges, but what raises from the red dragon's body is not a stirge. A large snakelike dragon with scales of black pearl raises it's head and stares me down. The Dread Pirate Roberts speaks to it in a language I vaguely recognize as draconic. I wonder at him knowing such a language, and make a note to look into him a bit more later. The dragon, however, isn't as interested and merely returns to devouring the carcass.
With the dragon intent on it's meal I take a better look around the room. Across the way I can see a large door, which I recognize as leading to the treasure room. I know I must get to it if our mission is to be completed and Kough healed. I search the room for anything that could prove useful and that's when I noticed them. Tucked behind the carcass of the red dragon, a nest of black pearl dragon eggs. Well shit.
****************************
Until tomorrow.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
BEDAugust 7
So...I've been failing at this, but I HAVE been writing my Dungeons and Dragons journal. I've been debating about going back and writing my old Tuesday's to make sure I'm caught up with the journal or to just write the next journal entry here and maybe write two or three a week to catch up. The first choice means making a back log that you won't read, but I'll have on the correct date. The second option makes sure I have things to write, but results in me being weeks behind...actually, a third option has just occurred to me. I could always just write the next one today and dedicated this entire next week to Dungeons and Dragons journals, which should get me caught up by next week. In fact, that's what I'm going to do, decision made. Prepare for a week of Riley's adventures!
***********************
When the morning finally dawns I'm ready and waiting for the rest of the party. I left the inn early, couldn't sleep anyway, and gathered the promised horses. Zog even laid a spell allowing the horses to move much faster and easier over the terrain we must travel. Eventually everyone else stumbles from their beds and we are able to set a course for the mountains.
Eight eerily uneventful hours later we arrive at the foothills of the mountains. Set in the mountainside is a huge set of oaken doors, sturdy and spelled shut. The first thing that crosses my mind is no dwarf would ever need a door that big, they're just show offs. Of course standing in front of the door is a twelve foot tall stone statue of a dwarf who would absolutely need a door that size. Flanking him are regular sized dwarf statues. Each of the statues sports a line of dwarven runes, and knowing dwarves it's some sort of riddle or spell we have to solve. Garr, Foxface, and the Dread Pirate Roberts start investigating the large statue and determine that the runes say "Speak My Name and Enter." Then they begin looking at the runes on the smaller statues for clues. I get bored and start sharpening my axe, I don't speak dwarven, they can sort it out.
As I work I think about arena fighting and the possible monsters we might encounter inside the dwarven city. I'm excited to wield my axe against some solid enemies, to do some good, to get my mind off the fact that my father is a chaos born Demon Prince. I'm so lost in my own thoughts I don't even notice the group has decided to speak a name, until the giant statue stirs.
"A dwarf must speak for you." The stone figure rumbles moving to fully block the door and looking down on the party. I wait for someone to say "oh well, we tried" but everyone seems intent on finishing the quest. Ariella is the one who comes up with a plan. She casts the illusion of a dwarf around Milk's body, allowing him to speak for us. The statue apparently doesn't have enough intelligence to discern and illusion because it simply pushes aside the door and bids us to enter. I notice Rouge and Foxface hang back, but as they catch up shortly after we walk through the door I don't think twice about it. I glance back as the doors shut and see the statue return to it's normal posistion.
The hall we walk in is vast, obviously an entryway of some sort. The stone is worked smooth and the vaulted ceiling is held up by row after row of columns. The place is beautiful, but it gives me the creeps. This is supposed to be a dwarven city, yet there are no signs of life or death. The place is silent, deserted, and just a bit dusty. I go with my gut and begin watching for signs of death or a struggle. That's how I notice the claw marks. Caked with dust they line the floor and some of the columns, like the creature was dragging itself along. I study them and come to the decision that this creature has two three toed feet, making it most likely a dragon. I'd been carrying my axe casually, like I always do, but after I identify the marks I switch to attack mode. I voice my concerns to the rest of the party and Shallahai determines the claw marks are from a male red dragon and are likely about a month old. My senses are on high alert, but I don't bother trying to be sneaky, if there is a dragon it will already know we are here.
Eventually the hallway ends and I see that it was simply and entryway. It opens up to a huge cavern, which appears to be an entire hollowed out mountain. Around the sides of the cavern are other entryways and carved doorways and terraces. A series of stone bridges connects the sides of the cavern to a gigantic stalactite that is hanging from the cavern's roof. The stalactite is vast and covered in doors and windows. It seems likely it was the town center, the temple or city hall. The view of it takes my breath away, but what really makes my heart beat isn't the cavern, it's the flames I can seee flickering from the stalactites doors and windows.
******************
Until tomorrow.
***********************
When the morning finally dawns I'm ready and waiting for the rest of the party. I left the inn early, couldn't sleep anyway, and gathered the promised horses. Zog even laid a spell allowing the horses to move much faster and easier over the terrain we must travel. Eventually everyone else stumbles from their beds and we are able to set a course for the mountains.
Eight eerily uneventful hours later we arrive at the foothills of the mountains. Set in the mountainside is a huge set of oaken doors, sturdy and spelled shut. The first thing that crosses my mind is no dwarf would ever need a door that big, they're just show offs. Of course standing in front of the door is a twelve foot tall stone statue of a dwarf who would absolutely need a door that size. Flanking him are regular sized dwarf statues. Each of the statues sports a line of dwarven runes, and knowing dwarves it's some sort of riddle or spell we have to solve. Garr, Foxface, and the Dread Pirate Roberts start investigating the large statue and determine that the runes say "Speak My Name and Enter." Then they begin looking at the runes on the smaller statues for clues. I get bored and start sharpening my axe, I don't speak dwarven, they can sort it out.
As I work I think about arena fighting and the possible monsters we might encounter inside the dwarven city. I'm excited to wield my axe against some solid enemies, to do some good, to get my mind off the fact that my father is a chaos born Demon Prince. I'm so lost in my own thoughts I don't even notice the group has decided to speak a name, until the giant statue stirs.
"A dwarf must speak for you." The stone figure rumbles moving to fully block the door and looking down on the party. I wait for someone to say "oh well, we tried" but everyone seems intent on finishing the quest. Ariella is the one who comes up with a plan. She casts the illusion of a dwarf around Milk's body, allowing him to speak for us. The statue apparently doesn't have enough intelligence to discern and illusion because it simply pushes aside the door and bids us to enter. I notice Rouge and Foxface hang back, but as they catch up shortly after we walk through the door I don't think twice about it. I glance back as the doors shut and see the statue return to it's normal posistion.
The hall we walk in is vast, obviously an entryway of some sort. The stone is worked smooth and the vaulted ceiling is held up by row after row of columns. The place is beautiful, but it gives me the creeps. This is supposed to be a dwarven city, yet there are no signs of life or death. The place is silent, deserted, and just a bit dusty. I go with my gut and begin watching for signs of death or a struggle. That's how I notice the claw marks. Caked with dust they line the floor and some of the columns, like the creature was dragging itself along. I study them and come to the decision that this creature has two three toed feet, making it most likely a dragon. I'd been carrying my axe casually, like I always do, but after I identify the marks I switch to attack mode. I voice my concerns to the rest of the party and Shallahai determines the claw marks are from a male red dragon and are likely about a month old. My senses are on high alert, but I don't bother trying to be sneaky, if there is a dragon it will already know we are here.
Eventually the hallway ends and I see that it was simply and entryway. It opens up to a huge cavern, which appears to be an entire hollowed out mountain. Around the sides of the cavern are other entryways and carved doorways and terraces. A series of stone bridges connects the sides of the cavern to a gigantic stalactite that is hanging from the cavern's roof. The stalactite is vast and covered in doors and windows. It seems likely it was the town center, the temple or city hall. The view of it takes my breath away, but what really makes my heart beat isn't the cavern, it's the flames I can seee flickering from the stalactites doors and windows.
******************
Until tomorrow.
Monday, August 6, 2012
BEDAugust 6
All I want to do is go to sleep. It's been a REALLY long day and I have an equally long day ahead of me. Yet, instead of drifting happily off to dreamland I'm here, writing words. Why, you ask? Why do I subject myself to such torture? Because I vowed to do BEDA, and I don't give up on my goals very easily.
It's funny, cause earlier today I had a great idea for this miscellaneous Monday, but whatever that idea was has completely slipped from my mind. It's probably off playing with all the ideas I had for those stories I never bothered to finish. They're all having a jolly time running around and laughing at my idea-less existence. If only I could wrangle them up and put them to work. I imagine this blog would be much more interesting for everyone involved if I could do that. Of course I can't, so I'm going to settle for some simple blogging instead.
Today I went to Universal with Amber and Lauren. It was an interesting experience for me. As I walked around with them I realized how commonplace the entire resort had become to me. I knew where to go without looking, I could avoid the crowds instinctively, and I knew what rides to hit when to make sure we could get as much done as possible. I also noticed that I didn't pay as much attention to the little things anymore. I didn't read the things in line like I used to, been there, done that. I also got frustrated by 30 minute waits, being there in slow season spoiled me. Seeing it through their eyes reminded me of all of the things I'd forgotten were so amazing. I was able to recapture a bit of that wonder.
I started to think about why I'd lost it in the first place. It wasn't like I was tired of the park, I still choose to go there on my days off. I didn't think any of it was dumb or boring, it was just...home. It's like how you never notice the things on the shelves in your house cause they've always been there. Sure, they mean something to you, but you don't study them and think about those things everyday. That's how I feel about Universal. The park is wonderful and it means something to me, but in the day to day I don't pay too much attention to what's on the shelf. I use the shelf for the things I need and move on. I live there, it's home, and nothing about home is terribly exciting.
For Amber and Lauren, however, everything was new. The park was filled with shiny objects and they were excited to explore every single one. The knick knacks that had been sitting on my shelf forever (metaphorically speaking) where sparkling and new and exciting to them. The best part is that the excitement is contageous. Once they got excited I would also get excited. I let their energy feed me until I could pretend that I was experiencing everything for the first time as well. With that attitude a fun day in the park became and amazing day with friends.
Until tomorrow.
It's funny, cause earlier today I had a great idea for this miscellaneous Monday, but whatever that idea was has completely slipped from my mind. It's probably off playing with all the ideas I had for those stories I never bothered to finish. They're all having a jolly time running around and laughing at my idea-less existence. If only I could wrangle them up and put them to work. I imagine this blog would be much more interesting for everyone involved if I could do that. Of course I can't, so I'm going to settle for some simple blogging instead.
Today I went to Universal with Amber and Lauren. It was an interesting experience for me. As I walked around with them I realized how commonplace the entire resort had become to me. I knew where to go without looking, I could avoid the crowds instinctively, and I knew what rides to hit when to make sure we could get as much done as possible. I also noticed that I didn't pay as much attention to the little things anymore. I didn't read the things in line like I used to, been there, done that. I also got frustrated by 30 minute waits, being there in slow season spoiled me. Seeing it through their eyes reminded me of all of the things I'd forgotten were so amazing. I was able to recapture a bit of that wonder.
I started to think about why I'd lost it in the first place. It wasn't like I was tired of the park, I still choose to go there on my days off. I didn't think any of it was dumb or boring, it was just...home. It's like how you never notice the things on the shelves in your house cause they've always been there. Sure, they mean something to you, but you don't study them and think about those things everyday. That's how I feel about Universal. The park is wonderful and it means something to me, but in the day to day I don't pay too much attention to what's on the shelf. I use the shelf for the things I need and move on. I live there, it's home, and nothing about home is terribly exciting.
For Amber and Lauren, however, everything was new. The park was filled with shiny objects and they were excited to explore every single one. The knick knacks that had been sitting on my shelf forever (metaphorically speaking) where sparkling and new and exciting to them. The best part is that the excitement is contageous. Once they got excited I would also get excited. I let their energy feed me until I could pretend that I was experiencing everything for the first time as well. With that attitude a fun day in the park became and amazing day with friends.
Until tomorrow.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
BEDAugust 5
It's day five of BEDA/VEDA and I've already fallen into a routine. I film, edit, and post my videos in the morning, then I go to work, then I come home and write a blog. It's not the best plan (partially cause of the lack of sleep that results), but it's working for me so far, and if it ain't broke, don't fix it. So I'll just throw out some flash fiction.
Today's piece is based off of this Figment Daily Theme
Write a story in which a false rumor spreads about a character. While the speculation isn't flattering to this person, he or she decides to embrace the story anyway and to pretend that it's true.
"Yep, it's all true." Melody spoke casually and Annie's mouth dropped open.
"Seriously? All of it?" Annie and the other girls gathered in the locker room shared surprised looks.
"Every single word." Melody shrugged, pretending as if it was nothing.
"You mean to tell me..." Bethany began.
"I spent the summer in rehab. I was an alcoholic, and I got so trashed at a field hockey party that I slept with Andy the water boy, made out with Hannah the team captain, and jumped off the roof, breaking my arm. All true." Melody relayed the list of transgressions like a robot, having memorized them just this morning.
"I heard that you even got drunk at rehab and they had to lock you in solitary." Candace almost whispered. Melody blinked in surprise, that was a new one, and shrugged.
"Not really worth mentioning, but also true." Melody made a mental note to add solitary to the notebook. She turned back to the sink to finish pulling up her hair, hoping the other girls would move on. She watched in the mirror as they whispered to each other, comparing rumors and stories. She saw Diane open her mouth to speak, but the bell rang. The girls immediately stopped speaking and left.
Melody lingered in the bathroom for a few moments. She had five minutes to make it to homeroom across the hall, and Mr. Frost wouldn't care if she was late anyway. Melody pulled the notebook from her bag and added "drunk at rehab and locked in solitary-Candace" to the growing list of things she'd been up to this summer. The truth was she'd spent it in California with her aunt and uncle, looking at colleges, playing with her cousins, reading, and writing in the sun.
She had been to that field hockey party, it was the last thing she'd done before flying out to Cali, but she hadn't even had so much as a beer. There had been no drunken sex, making out with girls, or jumping from roofs, or rehab. There hadn't even been a broken arm. Yet, when Melody had arrived back at school last week the whispers had been hard to ignore. People kept looking at her with a mix of awe and disgust. Her friends stated asking questions and it didn't take long for Melody to piece it all together. That's when she made the list.
When she figured she had a good enough grasp on everything she supposedly did this summer, she started hinting that it was all true. Conveniently, Andy had graduated and moved to New York for college, Hannah was well known for kissing girls and had been so drunk at the party she remembered nothing, and everyone who was there that night seemed to remember someone jumping off the roof. Melody remembered Keith and Michael tossing off a blow up doll. It was shocking how easily even her friends started to believe it was true. They somehow found it easier to accept that her stories of going to Cali were a cover up for rehab than that rehab was just a rumor. Melody was hurt by this at first, that her friends could think so little of her, but she rapidly realized that it didn't really matter anyway.
Melody embraced the lies and even started embellishing on the original rumor. Every time someone added a new tidbit she accepted it and molded it into the story of her summer. She begged her parents not to say anything, and even took the pictures of her summer in California off Facebook, pretending they had been fakes anyway. She slowly came to realize that people were more amazed by this tale than disturbed by it. They asked her what it was like, and everyone wanted to hear her harrowing tale of struggling with alcoholism and coming back from the edge. They ate up the idea of a rehab romance and soon Melody was the girl who survived so much, rather than the girl who partied to hard she had started the year as.
It was almost two months into the school year when Melody finally figured out who had started the first awful rumors about her. Melody had been standing at her locker when Amanda came over with her little entourage. Amanda had disliked Melody from the moment Melody took over as editor for the school newspaper, and their rivalry had only grown.
"I know you didn't go to rehab this summer." Amanda said.
"Really? What makes you think that? I remember it very clearly, do you know something I don't?" Melody raised her voice, admittedly trying to draw attention.
"You know exactly what I mean." Amanda insisted, paying close attention to the eyes watching them argue. "You didn't do any of those things you say you did."
"Well, I'll admit I wasn't planning to tell anyone." Melody said, "But when I got to school everyone seemed to already know, so their wasn't any point in denying it."
A large crowd had gathered to watch by now, and Melody smiled, knowing Amanda was stuck. She would either have to admit she made up the stories, and ruin her reputation, or pretend they were true and let Melody reap the benefits of her knew fame. Melody enjoyed watching the emotions play across Amanda's face while she made her decision. Melody saw a flash of anger that might have scared her once, but that old Melody hadn't been through rehab.
"I heard you sucked off one of the orderlies to get him to bring you booze." Amanda said finally, her eyes triumphant, figuring Melody wouldn't own up to that. Melody looked at the floor.
"I was sick and desperate," she said quietly, but still loud enough for the crowd to hear, "I'm not proud of what I did, but there's no point in lying about it." Melody heard the crowd gasp as one.
"She's so brave. I can't believe she went through all that. Melody is such a role model. She's gone through so much. I feel bad for her. I'm going to stop drinking too." The crowd whispered back and forth. Melody watched as Amanda's face grew redder and redder, but she didn't open her mouth. Instead, she slammed her locker, turned on her heel and marched away.
"Score one for the little guy." Melody whispered as she watched Amanda disappear down the hall.
********
Let me know what you thought of the story. Until tomorrow.
Today's piece is based off of this Figment Daily Theme
Write a story in which a false rumor spreads about a character. While the speculation isn't flattering to this person, he or she decides to embrace the story anyway and to pretend that it's true.
"Yep, it's all true." Melody spoke casually and Annie's mouth dropped open.
"Seriously? All of it?" Annie and the other girls gathered in the locker room shared surprised looks.
"Every single word." Melody shrugged, pretending as if it was nothing.
"You mean to tell me..." Bethany began.
"I spent the summer in rehab. I was an alcoholic, and I got so trashed at a field hockey party that I slept with Andy the water boy, made out with Hannah the team captain, and jumped off the roof, breaking my arm. All true." Melody relayed the list of transgressions like a robot, having memorized them just this morning.
"I heard that you even got drunk at rehab and they had to lock you in solitary." Candace almost whispered. Melody blinked in surprise, that was a new one, and shrugged.
"Not really worth mentioning, but also true." Melody made a mental note to add solitary to the notebook. She turned back to the sink to finish pulling up her hair, hoping the other girls would move on. She watched in the mirror as they whispered to each other, comparing rumors and stories. She saw Diane open her mouth to speak, but the bell rang. The girls immediately stopped speaking and left.
Melody lingered in the bathroom for a few moments. She had five minutes to make it to homeroom across the hall, and Mr. Frost wouldn't care if she was late anyway. Melody pulled the notebook from her bag and added "drunk at rehab and locked in solitary-Candace" to the growing list of things she'd been up to this summer. The truth was she'd spent it in California with her aunt and uncle, looking at colleges, playing with her cousins, reading, and writing in the sun.
She had been to that field hockey party, it was the last thing she'd done before flying out to Cali, but she hadn't even had so much as a beer. There had been no drunken sex, making out with girls, or jumping from roofs, or rehab. There hadn't even been a broken arm. Yet, when Melody had arrived back at school last week the whispers had been hard to ignore. People kept looking at her with a mix of awe and disgust. Her friends stated asking questions and it didn't take long for Melody to piece it all together. That's when she made the list.
When she figured she had a good enough grasp on everything she supposedly did this summer, she started hinting that it was all true. Conveniently, Andy had graduated and moved to New York for college, Hannah was well known for kissing girls and had been so drunk at the party she remembered nothing, and everyone who was there that night seemed to remember someone jumping off the roof. Melody remembered Keith and Michael tossing off a blow up doll. It was shocking how easily even her friends started to believe it was true. They somehow found it easier to accept that her stories of going to Cali were a cover up for rehab than that rehab was just a rumor. Melody was hurt by this at first, that her friends could think so little of her, but she rapidly realized that it didn't really matter anyway.
Melody embraced the lies and even started embellishing on the original rumor. Every time someone added a new tidbit she accepted it and molded it into the story of her summer. She begged her parents not to say anything, and even took the pictures of her summer in California off Facebook, pretending they had been fakes anyway. She slowly came to realize that people were more amazed by this tale than disturbed by it. They asked her what it was like, and everyone wanted to hear her harrowing tale of struggling with alcoholism and coming back from the edge. They ate up the idea of a rehab romance and soon Melody was the girl who survived so much, rather than the girl who partied to hard she had started the year as.
It was almost two months into the school year when Melody finally figured out who had started the first awful rumors about her. Melody had been standing at her locker when Amanda came over with her little entourage. Amanda had disliked Melody from the moment Melody took over as editor for the school newspaper, and their rivalry had only grown.
"I know you didn't go to rehab this summer." Amanda said.
"Really? What makes you think that? I remember it very clearly, do you know something I don't?" Melody raised her voice, admittedly trying to draw attention.
"You know exactly what I mean." Amanda insisted, paying close attention to the eyes watching them argue. "You didn't do any of those things you say you did."
"Well, I'll admit I wasn't planning to tell anyone." Melody said, "But when I got to school everyone seemed to already know, so their wasn't any point in denying it."
A large crowd had gathered to watch by now, and Melody smiled, knowing Amanda was stuck. She would either have to admit she made up the stories, and ruin her reputation, or pretend they were true and let Melody reap the benefits of her knew fame. Melody enjoyed watching the emotions play across Amanda's face while she made her decision. Melody saw a flash of anger that might have scared her once, but that old Melody hadn't been through rehab.
"I heard you sucked off one of the orderlies to get him to bring you booze." Amanda said finally, her eyes triumphant, figuring Melody wouldn't own up to that. Melody looked at the floor.
"I was sick and desperate," she said quietly, but still loud enough for the crowd to hear, "I'm not proud of what I did, but there's no point in lying about it." Melody heard the crowd gasp as one.
"She's so brave. I can't believe she went through all that. Melody is such a role model. She's gone through so much. I feel bad for her. I'm going to stop drinking too." The crowd whispered back and forth. Melody watched as Amanda's face grew redder and redder, but she didn't open her mouth. Instead, she slammed her locker, turned on her heel and marched away.
"Score one for the little guy." Melody whispered as she watched Amanda disappear down the hall.
********
Let me know what you thought of the story. Until tomorrow.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
BEDAugust 4
It's Saturday! Time for me to rant and rave about anything I want. Of course the problem is that I have no idea what to rant or rave about. Seriously, I've tried to start this blog at least ten times tonight and I still can't think of a damned thing I want to rant or rave about. Does this mean I'm just having a mediocre day? Nothing especially bad or good that stands out enough for me to talk about. Work went well tonight, I love the group I close with. I visited briefly with Jill and Meg. Earlier I made a VEDA video and caught up on my HPA emails. Really there's not much else I should be doing. Except making the HPA video shot list...which I just left and did. For you reading this no time has past, but for me it was an almost 20 minute adventure to write something I should have done days ago.
Now, back on track with my rants and raves. I guess I can spend just a little time raving about a project I'm involved in, My Hogwarts. My Hogwarts is basically a virtual social networking platform exclusively for Harry Potter fans. I've been involved with this project almost from the beginning. Keith, the man in charge and Headmaster of My Hogwarts, is a dear friend of mine. He asked me to come on as a Beta staffer, just answering questions and reporting bugs, and I was hooked. I'm now proud to be an official staff member.
My Hogwarts is made up of six main parts, and each of them is a unique way for Harry Potter fans to interact and meet each other. The Library is a collection of fanfiction and fictional textbooks and literary studies that encourage creativity and discussion among the fans. There's a great set of stories to be found and the textbooks inspire all sorts of dialogues, not to mention a potential for fake classes. The Auditorium is a place for fans to watch streams of fanfilms or live streams of Quidditch or Wrock or any other note worthy Potter event. It's also equipped with a chat room allowing everyone to socialize while watching the screen. Wizard Cities is a way to get Potter fans connected with the locals, and expand your fan life from the computer to the real world. You can become a member of the city you live in and from there add events and chat with each other and make new friends. Wrockbox is the streaming Wizard Rock station, which is full of all kinds of incredible music. It's a great way to get to know new Wrock bands, and is always streaming. There's a huge discussion board that allows you to talk with others about any subject you want. This opens up the door for intense academic discussions as well as socializing over common interests. The best part of My Hogwarts for me is that you choose your house and then you're placed in a dorm with other students. It's like real Hogwarts where you may not know these people well, but you're bound to become friends.
Overall My Hogwarts is an incredible site to be a part of. It has it's glitches like anything else, but it's leaps and bounds beyond anything I thought it was going to be. Keith keeps adding new features and there are things like the My Hogwarts Virtual Choir and Chocolate Frog Cards still in the works and on their way out. If you're a Harry Potter fan this site really is something you should look into. I'm so happy with the way everything has turned out and I can't wait to see where it goes. There's an awesome staff behind it and half the fun in my life is hanging with them in our virtual staff room.
Until tomorrow.
Now, back on track with my rants and raves. I guess I can spend just a little time raving about a project I'm involved in, My Hogwarts. My Hogwarts is basically a virtual social networking platform exclusively for Harry Potter fans. I've been involved with this project almost from the beginning. Keith, the man in charge and Headmaster of My Hogwarts, is a dear friend of mine. He asked me to come on as a Beta staffer, just answering questions and reporting bugs, and I was hooked. I'm now proud to be an official staff member.
My Hogwarts is made up of six main parts, and each of them is a unique way for Harry Potter fans to interact and meet each other. The Library is a collection of fanfiction and fictional textbooks and literary studies that encourage creativity and discussion among the fans. There's a great set of stories to be found and the textbooks inspire all sorts of dialogues, not to mention a potential for fake classes. The Auditorium is a place for fans to watch streams of fanfilms or live streams of Quidditch or Wrock or any other note worthy Potter event. It's also equipped with a chat room allowing everyone to socialize while watching the screen. Wizard Cities is a way to get Potter fans connected with the locals, and expand your fan life from the computer to the real world. You can become a member of the city you live in and from there add events and chat with each other and make new friends. Wrockbox is the streaming Wizard Rock station, which is full of all kinds of incredible music. It's a great way to get to know new Wrock bands, and is always streaming. There's a huge discussion board that allows you to talk with others about any subject you want. This opens up the door for intense academic discussions as well as socializing over common interests. The best part of My Hogwarts for me is that you choose your house and then you're placed in a dorm with other students. It's like real Hogwarts where you may not know these people well, but you're bound to become friends.
Overall My Hogwarts is an incredible site to be a part of. It has it's glitches like anything else, but it's leaps and bounds beyond anything I thought it was going to be. Keith keeps adding new features and there are things like the My Hogwarts Virtual Choir and Chocolate Frog Cards still in the works and on their way out. If you're a Harry Potter fan this site really is something you should look into. I'm so happy with the way everything has turned out and I can't wait to see where it goes. There's an awesome staff behind it and half the fun in my life is hanging with them in our virtual staff room.
Until tomorrow.
Friday, August 3, 2012
BEDAugust 3
Fridays are supposed to be reviews, so I guess I should try and think of something to review...um...give me a minute to think of something...oh! Oh! Oh! I've got it! Let's talk about zombies.
Zombies have become quite a phenomenon in pop culture. The Walking Dead has become so hugely popular that it's even the theme for Halloween Horror Nights, which is the park wide month long Halloween event at Universal Studios (both Orlando and Hollywood, which is rare). The movies keep coming, zombie walks are spreading from city to city, zombie bar crawls are a college campus staple, and let's not forget the very real situation in Miami. Shows, video games, movies, comics, books, websites, costumes, the list is almost endless.
I'm completely willing to admit I jumped on the zombie bandwagon without a backward glance. I've dressed up as a zombie on more than one occasion. I've read the survival guides, watched the movies, played my fair share of plants vs zombies, and participated in a couple of zombie flash mobs. I think the idea and the science can be almost as fascinating as the fiction. Of course I still prefer the fiction.
That's why I want to talk about this book, Can You Survive the Zombie Apocalypse? by Max Brallier. Meg purchased this book for me at a comic book shop and I LOVE it. It's a choose your own adventure book about the zombie apocalypse in New York City. This combines two of my favorite things, zombies and choose your own adventure, how could I not fall in love.
The book is witty and catchy, with the perfect mix of nerdy jokes and zombie killing action to keep me intrigued. I appreciated the biting commentary that popped in, and felt it added to the story. I also loved that there were almost 100 different endings to choose from (I post-it tabbed all of them so I could make sure I read every single one). Unlike most choose your own adventure books it was beefy, with lots of action and choices that weren't easily anticipated. It was written from the PoV of a man, which bothered me a few times (I would never chase a hot chick bartender), but most of the time I was able to forget that and enjoy the story.
I found that each new ending was better than the one before. I didn't know anything about New York City, and I thought at first that might be a problem, but it ended up working out for the better. I learned a bit about NYC geography and a bit more about surviving the zombie apocalypse. I got to chill in a Barnes and Noble, fight with Hell's Angels, swim to Liberty Island, and fight zombies with the nerds at NY Comicon. Each arch of the story was well developed and there was a great mix of positive and negative endings. The best part was that while most endings read "An End" there was one that read "The End". It wasn't any more final than the others, but it gave background to the story, answers to the zombie mystery, and I liked that added element.
If you like zombies read this book, if you like choose your own adventures read this book, and if you like both, BUY THIS BOOK NOW. I thouroughly enjoyed it and I have faith that you will too.
Until tomorrow.
Zombies have become quite a phenomenon in pop culture. The Walking Dead has become so hugely popular that it's even the theme for Halloween Horror Nights, which is the park wide month long Halloween event at Universal Studios (both Orlando and Hollywood, which is rare). The movies keep coming, zombie walks are spreading from city to city, zombie bar crawls are a college campus staple, and let's not forget the very real situation in Miami. Shows, video games, movies, comics, books, websites, costumes, the list is almost endless.
I'm completely willing to admit I jumped on the zombie bandwagon without a backward glance. I've dressed up as a zombie on more than one occasion. I've read the survival guides, watched the movies, played my fair share of plants vs zombies, and participated in a couple of zombie flash mobs. I think the idea and the science can be almost as fascinating as the fiction. Of course I still prefer the fiction.
That's why I want to talk about this book, Can You Survive the Zombie Apocalypse? by Max Brallier. Meg purchased this book for me at a comic book shop and I LOVE it. It's a choose your own adventure book about the zombie apocalypse in New York City. This combines two of my favorite things, zombies and choose your own adventure, how could I not fall in love.
The book is witty and catchy, with the perfect mix of nerdy jokes and zombie killing action to keep me intrigued. I appreciated the biting commentary that popped in, and felt it added to the story. I also loved that there were almost 100 different endings to choose from (I post-it tabbed all of them so I could make sure I read every single one). Unlike most choose your own adventure books it was beefy, with lots of action and choices that weren't easily anticipated. It was written from the PoV of a man, which bothered me a few times (I would never chase a hot chick bartender), but most of the time I was able to forget that and enjoy the story.
I found that each new ending was better than the one before. I didn't know anything about New York City, and I thought at first that might be a problem, but it ended up working out for the better. I learned a bit about NYC geography and a bit more about surviving the zombie apocalypse. I got to chill in a Barnes and Noble, fight with Hell's Angels, swim to Liberty Island, and fight zombies with the nerds at NY Comicon. Each arch of the story was well developed and there was a great mix of positive and negative endings. The best part was that while most endings read "An End" there was one that read "The End". It wasn't any more final than the others, but it gave background to the story, answers to the zombie mystery, and I liked that added element.
If you like zombies read this book, if you like choose your own adventures read this book, and if you like both, BUY THIS BOOK NOW. I thouroughly enjoyed it and I have faith that you will too.
Until tomorrow.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
BEDAugust 2
Two days and thus far I've managed the video AND the blog. We'll see if it's something I can get to continue. I'm sticking with the themes I used to have even though I haven't been writing them in almost a month. I feel bad that June and July went south so quickly, but that's a price you have to pay sometimes. Anyway, today is Thursday which makes it a finish a story or expand a dream day. I'm going to go look for something to finish.
I couldn't find anything on my computer and since there are currently people asleep in my room where my notebooks full of unfinished pieces are stored I'll just have to go with writing a random but of fiction from a Figment prompt instead. It occurs to me that BEDA is likely supposed to be about me blogging my life, but since I'm hesitant to talk too much about my job and I honestly don't do too much outside work, my life doesn't fill a blog very well. Thus I turn to writing fiction, which is infinitely more thrilling.
Figment.com prompt
Create an imperfect villain – one with a rich history that explains the events that shaped your antagonist – the painful or traumatic events that created the character your readers will love to hate.
Kaylynn used to be happy, at least that's what she tells herself at night when she wants to jump off the bow of her ship. She tells herself that she used to be happy, and that means she could be happy again. Of course there's always a small part of her brain reminding her that it's a lie, what she remembers as happy was really just young and naive. She believed in things that didn't exist and was tricked into being happy. Yet, despite that small insistent voice, Kaylynn has kept her feet on the deck of the ship for twelve years now.
Kaylynn could vividly remember growing up with her father. The Kings Aerial Navy had never seen a better captain, and Kaylynn had basically grown up on an airship. Her mother had died before she could remember, but it never seemed to matter. She never felt lacking with the skies laid out in front of her, the wind in her hair, and her father at her side. By the time Kaylynn was six she could steer an airship on her own, knew how to navigate the skies, and could fire the cannons and rifles better than most of the soldiers on board her father's ship. By ten Kaylynn worked on the ship, learning how to operate each piece, and by twelve she was the unofficial pilot, trusted by the crew but unsanctioned by the crown. The only thought in Kaylynn's mind was how long it was taking to reach 18, when she could become a soldier herself.
That dream was stolen from her the summer after she turned 13. Kaylynn was on the airship when her father was called on a mission in enemy air. His superior ordered him to trim down his crew to only essential personell and fly into Grater territory. The mission was supposed to be simple; fly in, take some photos of bases, fly out. Flying in went just fine but when they emerged from cloud cover to take the pictures they found the Grater base stocked to the brim with anti-airship cannons, all already cocked and aimed. It was as if they knew the ship was coming. The airship was damaged beyond repair and crashed to the ground. Kaylynn survived only because her father threw her off the crashing ship with a parachute. She was the only lucky one, everyone else perished.
Kaylynn found herself stuck in Grater territory with nothing but her skills and a worn out pilots uniform to her name. She managed to find a town, and it was there she learned something that would change the course of her life forever. Kaylynn had planned to find her way out of the Grater's land and back the the Crown and her father's superiors. That was until she saw one of her father's superiors at the town marketplace. At first Kaylynn believed she'd somehow managed to make it out of Grater land, but as she listened it became clear the sergeant had come in instead. The more he spoke to the locals the more suspicious Kaylynn became, and when he admitted to tipping off the base to the arrival of her father's ship Kaylynn saw red.
She remembers very little about what happened that night, but the next morning the sergeant was dead, she was covered in blood, and she held a signed letter explaining that the Crown had set her father up to die. The sergeant had told her that people were losing faith in the Crown and the war, they didn't believe it was necessary anymore. The Crown decided they needed a way to make the people pay attention. Kaylynn's father was well known and well loved, his death would upset the world, sparking them into action, so the Crown arranged to have the Grater's kill him.
Kaylynn looks from the sky over the bow of her ship to the blood on her hands. They met a Crown ship tonight, thirty soldiers on board, now all dead. Yet it wasn't enough, it would never be enough. Kaylynn would tear about the Crown's forces piece by piece but she knew it would never be enough, not until she'd ripped the crown from the King's cold dead hands. He needed to pay for what he'd done, and he was going to. Kaylynn looked out of the bow of her ship again. The royal palace was peeking out just above the horizon, shining like a beacon, beckoning Kaylynn to come and test her mettle.
****************************
Until tomorrow.
I couldn't find anything on my computer and since there are currently people asleep in my room where my notebooks full of unfinished pieces are stored I'll just have to go with writing a random but of fiction from a Figment prompt instead. It occurs to me that BEDA is likely supposed to be about me blogging my life, but since I'm hesitant to talk too much about my job and I honestly don't do too much outside work, my life doesn't fill a blog very well. Thus I turn to writing fiction, which is infinitely more thrilling.
Figment.com prompt
Create an imperfect villain – one with a rich history that explains the events that shaped your antagonist – the painful or traumatic events that created the character your readers will love to hate.
Kaylynn used to be happy, at least that's what she tells herself at night when she wants to jump off the bow of her ship. She tells herself that she used to be happy, and that means she could be happy again. Of course there's always a small part of her brain reminding her that it's a lie, what she remembers as happy was really just young and naive. She believed in things that didn't exist and was tricked into being happy. Yet, despite that small insistent voice, Kaylynn has kept her feet on the deck of the ship for twelve years now.
Kaylynn could vividly remember growing up with her father. The Kings Aerial Navy had never seen a better captain, and Kaylynn had basically grown up on an airship. Her mother had died before she could remember, but it never seemed to matter. She never felt lacking with the skies laid out in front of her, the wind in her hair, and her father at her side. By the time Kaylynn was six she could steer an airship on her own, knew how to navigate the skies, and could fire the cannons and rifles better than most of the soldiers on board her father's ship. By ten Kaylynn worked on the ship, learning how to operate each piece, and by twelve she was the unofficial pilot, trusted by the crew but unsanctioned by the crown. The only thought in Kaylynn's mind was how long it was taking to reach 18, when she could become a soldier herself.
That dream was stolen from her the summer after she turned 13. Kaylynn was on the airship when her father was called on a mission in enemy air. His superior ordered him to trim down his crew to only essential personell and fly into Grater territory. The mission was supposed to be simple; fly in, take some photos of bases, fly out. Flying in went just fine but when they emerged from cloud cover to take the pictures they found the Grater base stocked to the brim with anti-airship cannons, all already cocked and aimed. It was as if they knew the ship was coming. The airship was damaged beyond repair and crashed to the ground. Kaylynn survived only because her father threw her off the crashing ship with a parachute. She was the only lucky one, everyone else perished.
Kaylynn found herself stuck in Grater territory with nothing but her skills and a worn out pilots uniform to her name. She managed to find a town, and it was there she learned something that would change the course of her life forever. Kaylynn had planned to find her way out of the Grater's land and back the the Crown and her father's superiors. That was until she saw one of her father's superiors at the town marketplace. At first Kaylynn believed she'd somehow managed to make it out of Grater land, but as she listened it became clear the sergeant had come in instead. The more he spoke to the locals the more suspicious Kaylynn became, and when he admitted to tipping off the base to the arrival of her father's ship Kaylynn saw red.
She remembers very little about what happened that night, but the next morning the sergeant was dead, she was covered in blood, and she held a signed letter explaining that the Crown had set her father up to die. The sergeant had told her that people were losing faith in the Crown and the war, they didn't believe it was necessary anymore. The Crown decided they needed a way to make the people pay attention. Kaylynn's father was well known and well loved, his death would upset the world, sparking them into action, so the Crown arranged to have the Grater's kill him.
Kaylynn looks from the sky over the bow of her ship to the blood on her hands. They met a Crown ship tonight, thirty soldiers on board, now all dead. Yet it wasn't enough, it would never be enough. Kaylynn would tear about the Crown's forces piece by piece but she knew it would never be enough, not until she'd ripped the crown from the King's cold dead hands. He needed to pay for what he'd done, and he was going to. Kaylynn looked out of the bow of her ship again. The royal palace was peeking out just above the horizon, shining like a beacon, beckoning Kaylynn to come and test her mettle.
****************************
Until tomorrow.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
BEDAugust 1
So I decided on a whim to do VEDA this month, and since I was going to do that already I figured why not throw BEDA in the mix as well. Obviously I didn't do so well at some of my past months, but those are in the past, and this month will be different. I plan to send live the old posts I have. I'll do some backlog on my Dungeons and Dragons journal, but everything else will just be a clean start from here on out.
Luckily for my even if I was to stick to my old schedule today is still plain blogging day. I'm not sure I have that much to discuss despite the fact I haven't written anything here in almost a month. I'm finally going to be moving into a three bedroom apartment. My fourth roomie arrives tomorrow night. Ascendio happened, it was awesome, and I'm proud. I floundered for awhile but have now got plenty of new projects to work on.
I got recruited for the Harry Potter Alliane (thehpalliance.org) and I'm excited to be working on projects for them. I'm sure there will be much more to share on that front in the near future. For now it's safe to say I'm working on a fascinating campaign and I'm very excited to see where this takes me. I was incredibly flattered to be asked to be a part of staff and even more flattered with what was said to entice me. Sometimes it's just nice to know people appreciate the effort you put into things. The group I'm working with is creative and inventive and I'm already have a ton of fun. It's going to keep me busy, and everyone knows I love nothing more than being busy.
I'm also starting to write a web series with my friend Ginger. I don't want to give too much away because I'm afraid I'll jinx the project if I talk about it. Let's just say it's an idea that has my creativity flowing like mad and I can't wait to see what becomes of it. Keep and eye out, big things are coming.
Really that's all that's changed in my life. I'm still working, I'm still interneting, I'm still not sleeping even half as much as I should. I'm considering doing more fiction writing, in fact if I can get gmail to work I'll look at the figment prompt and round this post out with some micro fiction. I lied, gmail won't load. We've been fighting the past couple of days, gmail is currently winning. Mostly because when gmail refuses to open there is nothing I can do except accept defeat. It will be fixed though, I have faith.
Until tomorrow.
Luckily for my even if I was to stick to my old schedule today is still plain blogging day. I'm not sure I have that much to discuss despite the fact I haven't written anything here in almost a month. I'm finally going to be moving into a three bedroom apartment. My fourth roomie arrives tomorrow night. Ascendio happened, it was awesome, and I'm proud. I floundered for awhile but have now got plenty of new projects to work on.
I got recruited for the Harry Potter Alliane (thehpalliance.org) and I'm excited to be working on projects for them. I'm sure there will be much more to share on that front in the near future. For now it's safe to say I'm working on a fascinating campaign and I'm very excited to see where this takes me. I was incredibly flattered to be asked to be a part of staff and even more flattered with what was said to entice me. Sometimes it's just nice to know people appreciate the effort you put into things. The group I'm working with is creative and inventive and I'm already have a ton of fun. It's going to keep me busy, and everyone knows I love nothing more than being busy.
I'm also starting to write a web series with my friend Ginger. I don't want to give too much away because I'm afraid I'll jinx the project if I talk about it. Let's just say it's an idea that has my creativity flowing like mad and I can't wait to see what becomes of it. Keep and eye out, big things are coming.
Really that's all that's changed in my life. I'm still working, I'm still interneting, I'm still not sleeping even half as much as I should. I'm considering doing more fiction writing, in fact if I can get gmail to work I'll look at the figment prompt and round this post out with some micro fiction. I lied, gmail won't load. We've been fighting the past couple of days, gmail is currently winning. Mostly because when gmail refuses to open there is nothing I can do except accept defeat. It will be fixed though, I have faith.
Until tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
July 4th
Today is the Fourth of July! It's funny to realize that, because it hasn't exactly felt like the Fourth of July. For most of my life the Fourth of July has been a huge pillar of my summer, the event to look forward to, the time when family comes to visit, a day full of friends, fun, and funnel cakes.
Until tomorrow.
Ever since I moved to Iowa the Fourth of July has actually begun just after dark on July third. My family, and whatever cousins or friends were visiting, would pile into the truck (and other vehicles as needed) and head out to a neighbor's farm. There we would begin the very Midwestern ritual of frog hunting. For those of you who don't come from a small farming town, frog hunting is exactly what it sounds like. We go in groups out to the local ponds, armed with flashlights, nets, and five gallon buckets, to catch ourselves some good jumping frogs. The art of frog hunting is 99% holding patiently still and 1% lightening fast frog grabbing action. The time tested procedure is a three man operation, and for us it was always the same. Man one is the catcher, this is the person with quick hands and steady legs. It's their job to wade into the water and wait for the frogs to surface. Man two is the lighting expert, this person needs to have steady hands and good eye sight. It's their job to spot the frogs and then shine the flashlight into the frogs eyes. This blinds the frogs temporarily, allowing the catcher a better chance of retrieving them. Man three is the bucket guard, this person needs to be strong and watchful. It's their job to carry the bucket full of pond water and frogs around the pond, open it for the catcher to deposit their frogs, and keep the already caught frogs from escaping. By the end of the night, which usually falls shortly after midnight so that we have ample time to wish everyone a "Happy Fourth of July!", we would have a bucket filled with frogs that we prayed would jump as well in the morning as they did when we tried to catch them that night.
Despite the late night out, the Fourth of July always began bright and early. The pancake breakfast started at 6am, but we usually didn't roll in until 7:30 or 8. Then it was off to register for the Firecracker Frog Jump, the reason for our night time escapades. The Frog Jump was always one of my favorite activities, and it was something wonderfully small town Iowa that I loved to share with visiting relatives. It involves place the frog you recently caught into a hula hoop in the center of the ring. Then, without touching the frog, you have to get it to jump twice. The judge then measures the distance from the center of the hoop to where your frog landed, and whichever frog jumped the farthest in each age category is declared the winner. Sounds simple enough, but I assure you that there is an art to it. You have to know which frog to pick, where to set them, and how to encourage them to make life risking long jumps. I won a few times over the years, but my family had a reputation for always bringing a winning outsider. It's often said that those who can't do teach, and I was apparently one hell of a teacher.
After the Frog Jump the day really began. The Quilt Show and Flower Show open, with their lovely displays, then it's time for the car, tractor, and engine show. Then there's the big wheels race and a Haystack Money Hunt for the younger kids (which is exactly what it sounds like, kids digging through haystacks for money). Then there's lunch at the Presbyterian church, which is always homemade and delicious. Once you've had your fill of delicious food it's time to find a spot on the sidewalk to watch the parade! Our parade always had a theme, and floats and cars and people came from all over Iowa to participate and see our parade. When I was little the parade meant crowding on the sidewalk and catching all the candy, or perhaps building a float or a costume to try and win one of the parade categories. For the last five years or so though, it has meant setting up a speaker system, collecting out of order cards, and announcing the parade. It's always a lot of work announcing the parade, but it's fun to be part of something like that.
Once the parade is over it's time to head over to the park. That's where they have carnival games, a petting zoo, carnival rides, carnival food, and of course plenty of places to buy glowsticks and poppers and all other manner of celebration paraphernalia. After you've had a good run around dinner is served at the school, complete with homemade pie and ice cream (which beats store bought by miles). Once you feel full to bursting the best part of the evening begins. Everyone grabs a lawn chair or a blanket and sets it out in the football field by the school. There's a DJ playing music, you buy buttons or tickets for raffle prizes, they give out the prizes which range from gas cards to a brand new outdoor grille, then just before dusk the skydivers jump down carrying the American Flag. But the true magic, the reason that people have gathered in my tiny town from all across the neighboring area, begins shortly after dark. That's when the little town I grew up in sets off the largest fireworks display in SE Iowa. Nothing compares to being just a few hundred feet away from where the fireworks are launched. Lying in the grass and looking straight up as they burst will always be one of my favorite things about summer.
Eventually the fireworks end, usually with a truly fantastic finale, and when the last spark goes out the night ends as well. The crowd swells with applause and then, almost as one, everyone stands, gathers their things, finds their cars, and goes home. It's funny that the day can build up so much and then just end like that. Knowing what my Fourth of July is usually like, you can see that one spent seeing a couple of movies and working at Universal may seem a little dull. I feel like I didn't actually celebrate the holiday, but I was thinking of my friends and family back home enjoying the small town celebration that I'm only just now realizing is a big deal. Happy Independence Day!
Until tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
July 3rd
Today there was no D&D game, which means that you get an interlude with Riley instead of a full out campaign journal.
*****************
"Get up! How do you expect to survive in the arena if you can't make it through one training session?" The half-orc loomed over me. I resisted the urge to smile up at him from where I was lying in the dirt. He thought he'd bested me, and I was perfectly happy to let him think that...for a few more seconds. He raised his mace high in the air and brought it crashing down, right where my head had been. I rolled to the side and sprang up quickly. I kicked out with my left foot and knocked the mace to the ground while bringing my clasped fists down hard on the half-orc's back, making sure he followed the mace to the dirt. In one practiced fluid motion I kicked the mace out of reach, flipped the hal-orc over, knelt on his chest, and brought the dagger I'd grabbed from my boot firmly to rest on his throat.
"I expect idiots like you to continue to underestimate me." I said, pressing the dagger into his neck. A slow clap echoed through the pit where we were fighting.
"Well played half-elf, I think you've proven yourself." The Duke walked into the pit, his red satin doublet and shiny boots out of place in the rust colored dirt that covered the arena and it's gladiators. I quickly removed the dagger from the half-orcs throat, slipping it into my boot as I stood. I took a step back and picked up my great axe from where it had fallen. Still keeping half of my attention on my enemy I faced the Duke. The Duke kicked at the half-orc, but I noted that he didn't allow his boots to come into contact with the creature. That simple gesture spoke volumes to me. I watched as the half-orc rolled to his feet and picked up his own mace. He stood at attention, ever the good little soldier.
"Few have ever bested Fargore, and certainly not a nobody who's never been in the arena. Where did you learn to fight like that?" I studied the Duke's face and considered my answer. Bet it would really bend his mind if I told him I learned from the Elven King's best knights, but I knew better than that.
"I've been to a lot of tournaments." I didn't elaborate, tell him that I competed in and won every tournament I'd even been to, that wasn't important. The Duke studied me in a way I'd become familiar with over the past few weeks. I'd fought in twelve pits since I arrived in Derishka, each one sponsored by a different noble, and each of them looked at me the same. I stood comfortably still, my great axe held casually but ready in my arms as he circled me. He lifted my hair, bits of my armor, the cloth of my shirt. He ran his hands over my calves, my shoulders, my arms. He squeezed my muscles and noted the daggers hidden in my boots, along my forearm, and strapped to my thigh. Like every noble before him he stopped when he reached the birthmark on my arm. He yanked down my bracer to see the brand clearly, tracing the shape with a finger. They all paused when they saw it, and up until now ever single one had then sent me away without a word. The Duke simply walked back a few paces and looked at me again. He held out a hand.
"Your axe." I almost laughed, almost. I don't know who he thought he was, but he had to realize there was no way I was handing over my weapon. I shook my head. His eyes hardened. "If you want me to sponsor you in the arena then I need to know the quality of your weapon. I will not have my gladiator fighting with an axe made for show and not battle." He indicated the gold inlay and scroll work on my blade. He didn't trust that I could fight with this weapon, but he would learn soon enough. I returned his cold stare.
In a smooth motion I shifted down into a crouch and pivoted to face the half-orc. I swung the great axe in a arc once, twice, thrice, and then returned to my original position. As I stopped moving the leather armor Fargore had been wearing fell in ribbons to his feet, leaving him standing naked in the pit. The Duke recovered quickly, but I saw his eyes widen for a moment.
"I'll keep my axe, thank you." There was a hard edge to my voice and I saw the Duke's pride bristle when he heard it. To his credit he managed to swallow that down, taking a hit to his pride for a gain to his coin purse.
"You're in the arena tomorrow. I'll get you my colors to wear. A servant will show you to your quarters." The Duke turned to leave and then looked back over his shoulder. "What shall we call you?"
"Battle Axe."
*****************
"Get up! How do you expect to survive in the arena if you can't make it through one training session?" The half-orc loomed over me. I resisted the urge to smile up at him from where I was lying in the dirt. He thought he'd bested me, and I was perfectly happy to let him think that...for a few more seconds. He raised his mace high in the air and brought it crashing down, right where my head had been. I rolled to the side and sprang up quickly. I kicked out with my left foot and knocked the mace to the ground while bringing my clasped fists down hard on the half-orc's back, making sure he followed the mace to the dirt. In one practiced fluid motion I kicked the mace out of reach, flipped the hal-orc over, knelt on his chest, and brought the dagger I'd grabbed from my boot firmly to rest on his throat.
"I expect idiots like you to continue to underestimate me." I said, pressing the dagger into his neck. A slow clap echoed through the pit where we were fighting.
"Well played half-elf, I think you've proven yourself." The Duke walked into the pit, his red satin doublet and shiny boots out of place in the rust colored dirt that covered the arena and it's gladiators. I quickly removed the dagger from the half-orcs throat, slipping it into my boot as I stood. I took a step back and picked up my great axe from where it had fallen. Still keeping half of my attention on my enemy I faced the Duke. The Duke kicked at the half-orc, but I noted that he didn't allow his boots to come into contact with the creature. That simple gesture spoke volumes to me. I watched as the half-orc rolled to his feet and picked up his own mace. He stood at attention, ever the good little soldier.
"Few have ever bested Fargore, and certainly not a nobody who's never been in the arena. Where did you learn to fight like that?" I studied the Duke's face and considered my answer. Bet it would really bend his mind if I told him I learned from the Elven King's best knights, but I knew better than that.
"I've been to a lot of tournaments." I didn't elaborate, tell him that I competed in and won every tournament I'd even been to, that wasn't important. The Duke studied me in a way I'd become familiar with over the past few weeks. I'd fought in twelve pits since I arrived in Derishka, each one sponsored by a different noble, and each of them looked at me the same. I stood comfortably still, my great axe held casually but ready in my arms as he circled me. He lifted my hair, bits of my armor, the cloth of my shirt. He ran his hands over my calves, my shoulders, my arms. He squeezed my muscles and noted the daggers hidden in my boots, along my forearm, and strapped to my thigh. Like every noble before him he stopped when he reached the birthmark on my arm. He yanked down my bracer to see the brand clearly, tracing the shape with a finger. They all paused when they saw it, and up until now ever single one had then sent me away without a word. The Duke simply walked back a few paces and looked at me again. He held out a hand.
"Your axe." I almost laughed, almost. I don't know who he thought he was, but he had to realize there was no way I was handing over my weapon. I shook my head. His eyes hardened. "If you want me to sponsor you in the arena then I need to know the quality of your weapon. I will not have my gladiator fighting with an axe made for show and not battle." He indicated the gold inlay and scroll work on my blade. He didn't trust that I could fight with this weapon, but he would learn soon enough. I returned his cold stare.
In a smooth motion I shifted down into a crouch and pivoted to face the half-orc. I swung the great axe in a arc once, twice, thrice, and then returned to my original position. As I stopped moving the leather armor Fargore had been wearing fell in ribbons to his feet, leaving him standing naked in the pit. The Duke recovered quickly, but I saw his eyes widen for a moment.
"I'll keep my axe, thank you." There was a hard edge to my voice and I saw the Duke's pride bristle when he heard it. To his credit he managed to swallow that down, taking a hit to his pride for a gain to his coin purse.
"You're in the arena tomorrow. I'll get you my colors to wear. A servant will show you to your quarters." The Duke turned to leave and then looked back over his shoulder. "What shall we call you?"
"Battle Axe."
Monday, July 2, 2012
July 2nd
Since yesterday was taking up by some flash fiction I decided to spend today going over June goals and July goals. Maybe I'll do some other discussions and talking and random chatting, one can never be sure with me can they? But, we'll start with goals.
June Goals
1) Write 750 words (check)
2) Post one video on each channel (just barely, check)
3) Save $200 (failure, but I'm not being too hard on myself, there was stuff)
4) Make one music video shot list (oops)
5) Figure out living situation (It was a bit rocky, but I've got a place now)
6) Read a book (A long fanfiction AND a choose your own adventure book)
7) Figure out Ascendio AV (all set and locked away)
8) Make everything ready for Ascendio (Everything I have to do is locked and loaded)
9) Spend less than $400 on credit card (hahahahahahaha, pipe dream)
10) Keep up with YouTube/Hulu/Magazines (check)
June total 7/10. Not too shabby, but some of those have been on there for months and I really ought to be a little farther along I think. Of course the month is over so there's no use beating myself up about any of it now. Gotta move on to bigger and better and more exciting things.
July Goals
1) Post one video on each channel
2) Write 750 words a day
3) Completely set up my living space (have NOTHING boxed)
4) Vacuum at least once every other week
5) Spend less than $500 on credit card and save $200
6) Figure out costume for Celebration VI
7) Post one piece of writing on Figment for public consumption
8) Shot list two music videos
9) Shoot Fall In Love Tonight Video
10) Write out story arc for Heroes and Sidekicks Institute
I also want to mention something else that's going to change for July. Since I got involved in Figment (like a week ago), I discovered they do something called Daily Themes, these are basically writing prompts that get your creativity flowing. I'm not going to use all of them, but when I find on that strikes my interest I'll use it that day. That means that little snippets of fiction might invade my other daily post themes. Generally I'll be sticking to the schedule we've come to know and love, but I just wanted to prepare you for the possibility of changes.
Now that the business stuff is out of the way I want to talk a little bit about my life, which is my right on the lovely Miscellaneous Mondays. Getting a new apartment in July has been a bit of an adventure (that's putting it nicely), and the place and time and people have flipped and flopped, but now we're finally settled. Well, at least I hope we are because I paid them money and I don't want that to be for nothing. We're still moving to a three bedroom, my friend Amber is still moving in with us, it's just the time of the move and the place we're moving to that's changing. Now we're moving to a closer building, to the second floor, and not until July 15th. This is a bit of a bummer cause it's sorta during Ascendio, but I'm dealing with it. I'm sure I'll be plenty happy once we actually move, but getting there is a bit frustrating.
Lena arrives tomorrow, and I'm incredibly excited! I'd hoped to have a new place and a room for her, but I think we'll be fine the way things are. I've missed her and I can't wait to have her hanging around. It's a bit of a bummer that I'll be spending most (if not all) of my not at Ascendio time working like a crazy person, but that's the price to be paid. Lena's graciously agreed to help me with a couple of short silly projects, so hopefully YouTube will see the fruits of that labor sometime this month. Lena also has a lot on her plate so I imagine that most of our crazy adventures will be post Ascendio. I'm cool with that though, cause honestly I don't have enough time in my life to do anything before Ascendio.
I feel that I should mention something else that I know you're probably sick of hearing, but since I'll never get sick of telling it, I LOVE MY JOB! The simple truth is that, while I may not get paid much, I can survive on what I get paid, I enjoy what I do, and I adore the people I work with. That's right, I actually enjoy people coming and complaining to me. I like it when people come in pissed and leave smiling, I like that I made them that way, and I'm utterly fascinated by what people complain about. I could spend my entire life just watching people and studying the way they react to things. I never get tired of it. Plus, and this is the best part, I learn a lot of names. Everyone who's been around when I write knows I hate naming characters, so I've been stocking up on the interesting names I hear at work. Mixing and matching first and last names, and mentioning to guests that I like their names and might use it for a character. I swear I'll have dedicate all my books to Guests At Universal Orlando. Life is good.
Until tomorrow.
June Goals
1) Write 750 words (check)
2) Post one video on each channel (just barely, check)
3) Save $200 (failure, but I'm not being too hard on myself, there was stuff)
4) Make one music video shot list (oops)
5) Figure out living situation (It was a bit rocky, but I've got a place now)
6) Read a book (A long fanfiction AND a choose your own adventure book)
7) Figure out Ascendio AV (all set and locked away)
8) Make everything ready for Ascendio (Everything I have to do is locked and loaded)
9) Spend less than $400 on credit card (hahahahahahaha, pipe dream)
10) Keep up with YouTube/Hulu/Magazines (check)
June total 7/10. Not too shabby, but some of those have been on there for months and I really ought to be a little farther along I think. Of course the month is over so there's no use beating myself up about any of it now. Gotta move on to bigger and better and more exciting things.
July Goals
1) Post one video on each channel
2) Write 750 words a day
3) Completely set up my living space (have NOTHING boxed)
4) Vacuum at least once every other week
5) Spend less than $500 on credit card and save $200
6) Figure out costume for Celebration VI
7) Post one piece of writing on Figment for public consumption
8) Shot list two music videos
9) Shoot Fall In Love Tonight Video
10) Write out story arc for Heroes and Sidekicks Institute
I also want to mention something else that's going to change for July. Since I got involved in Figment (like a week ago), I discovered they do something called Daily Themes, these are basically writing prompts that get your creativity flowing. I'm not going to use all of them, but when I find on that strikes my interest I'll use it that day. That means that little snippets of fiction might invade my other daily post themes. Generally I'll be sticking to the schedule we've come to know and love, but I just wanted to prepare you for the possibility of changes.
Now that the business stuff is out of the way I want to talk a little bit about my life, which is my right on the lovely Miscellaneous Mondays. Getting a new apartment in July has been a bit of an adventure (that's putting it nicely), and the place and time and people have flipped and flopped, but now we're finally settled. Well, at least I hope we are because I paid them money and I don't want that to be for nothing. We're still moving to a three bedroom, my friend Amber is still moving in with us, it's just the time of the move and the place we're moving to that's changing. Now we're moving to a closer building, to the second floor, and not until July 15th. This is a bit of a bummer cause it's sorta during Ascendio, but I'm dealing with it. I'm sure I'll be plenty happy once we actually move, but getting there is a bit frustrating.
Lena arrives tomorrow, and I'm incredibly excited! I'd hoped to have a new place and a room for her, but I think we'll be fine the way things are. I've missed her and I can't wait to have her hanging around. It's a bit of a bummer that I'll be spending most (if not all) of my not at Ascendio time working like a crazy person, but that's the price to be paid. Lena's graciously agreed to help me with a couple of short silly projects, so hopefully YouTube will see the fruits of that labor sometime this month. Lena also has a lot on her plate so I imagine that most of our crazy adventures will be post Ascendio. I'm cool with that though, cause honestly I don't have enough time in my life to do anything before Ascendio.
I feel that I should mention something else that I know you're probably sick of hearing, but since I'll never get sick of telling it, I LOVE MY JOB! The simple truth is that, while I may not get paid much, I can survive on what I get paid, I enjoy what I do, and I adore the people I work with. That's right, I actually enjoy people coming and complaining to me. I like it when people come in pissed and leave smiling, I like that I made them that way, and I'm utterly fascinated by what people complain about. I could spend my entire life just watching people and studying the way they react to things. I never get tired of it. Plus, and this is the best part, I learn a lot of names. Everyone who's been around when I write knows I hate naming characters, so I've been stocking up on the interesting names I hear at work. Mixing and matching first and last names, and mentioning to guests that I like their names and might use it for a character. I swear I'll have dedicate all my books to Guests At Universal Orlando. Life is good.
Until tomorrow.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
July 1st
Go, enjoy your summer break, let loose, nothing
can go wrong. That's the last time I listen to Ashley about anything.
Which is not to say I haven't enjoyed this last two weeks, I have, who
wouldn't enjoy two weeks in the sun, at a luxury resort, with roller
coasters minutes from your bed, but nothing can go wrong? I beg to
differ.
It started out glorious, I was so happy to get away from college and my parent's divorce, and just have some time to myself. I couldn't thank Kade enough for inviting me along when his sister bailed on their summer trip. He knew what I was going through, we've been friends for ages, and he thought a trip to Florida was just what I needed. We arrived at a swanky hotel, got adjoining rooms with queen beds and jacuzzi bathtubs. I spent that first night just wandering the resort taking in the three pools, spa, restaurants, and beautiful gardens and gazebos. It was in one of those gardens that I first ran into Jackson. He was lounging on a bench reading a book, and I'll admit I admired him from afar for quite awhile before building up the courage to speak. He was sexy, in a very nerdy way, with thick brown hair, square glasses, a tall lanky frame, and a shirt that read "Keep Calm and Don't Blink", and I was smitten. Eventually I made my way to stand over his bench.
"What are you reading?" I tried to sound casual, but I could feel my hands shaking. He looked up from the pages and I saw his bright blue eyes for the first time. I tried to remember to breath.
"Nothing much, it's a choose your own adventure book about the zombie apocalypse." He slipped in a piece of paper and held the book out to me. I flipped through the pages, trying to keep my hands still, and noticed the post-it tabs marking each ending.
"I do that too," I said without thinking, "mark all the endings so I know I don't miss any." Then my mind caught up with my mouth and I clamped it shut, what was I thinking talking to this strange boy I'd only just met. He didn't seem to notice, just nodded and took the book back when I offered. He studied me for a long moment and I was painfully aware that I was sweaty from running around and hadn't brushed my hair after the eight hour car ride. I resisted the urge to pull the tangles with my fingers, not wanting to draw more attention to my disheveled appearance.
"I'm just getting ready to start at the beginning again." He sat up as he spoke. "Want to help me survive the zombie apocalypse?" I must have given some reply, but I honestly don't remember. What I do remember is suddenly realizing it was getting too dark to read and that I had somehow ended up snuggled into the boy's side. We died for what must have been the dozenth time, and he closed the book. "It's too dark to read now, guess I'll have to save the zombie killing for another day."
I sat up straight and looked everywhere but at him. I couldn't believe I'd spent hours with a stranger, snuggled up to him even, and I didn't even know his name. "Well, that was fun," I said, still avoiding his eyes. "It was nice meeting you." I turned and walked quickly back towards my room, but a hand on my arm stopped me. I turned to look at his face.
"Hey, I just realized I didn't get your name, I'm Jackson." His voice was calm and cool, like he snuggled with strange girls every night, for all I knew he probably did. When he got back to his friends I'd be nothing but Sunday July 1st, another notch in his snuggling with strangers belt. I realized I was staring and shook my head.
"My name's Taryn." I managed, and then I turned and walked away. I waited until I was sure he could no longer see me and I sprinted back to my hotel room. I collapsed into bed, but even my dreams were invaded by a pair of bright blue eyes and zombies.
"You were out late last night." Kade commented as we walked to the park the next day. I felt my face flush and turned away.
"I got caught up reading in one of the gardens." Alright, so it wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either.
"That's good, I'm glad to see you relaxing instead of worrying." Kade gave me one of his wide smiles and lead the way through the turnstiles.
I hadn't been to a theme park in almost five years, not since my parents started fighting and family vacations ceased to exist. I was thrilled to be riding roller coasters and eating funnel cakes and corn dogs. Kade worked hard to make things fun, buying me silly souvenirs and joshing me into riding the kids rides and seeing the shows. I raced around as excited as any of the little children, laughing and smiling and delighting in every little thing. I happily went along when Kade grabbed my hand to pull me towards yet another ride, and when he didn't let go all the way through the line or even during the twists and turns of the coaster, I didn't give it a second thought. I was so happy to be having fun without my parents fighting or school stress weighing down my mind that I didn't even notice when he went from holding my hand to holding my waist. I was still riding the oblivious high when we sat down for dinner and Kade placed our haul in one bench and scooted in to sit next to me while we ate.
I finally noticed when we got back to the hotel and collapsed side my side on my bed. I noticed Kade was tracing patterns up and down my arm and it was like I suddenly awoke from a dream. This was Kade, my best friend, the boy who used to let me paint his nails and put lipstick on his face, my partner in crime when someone needed to be taught a lesson, the one who listened to all my boy troubles and offered sound advice in every situation. This was not the person I had a summer fling with. Not the person I ruined a friendship with for a pointless make out session. I bounced up from the bed.
"Well, I'd say we had a pretty full day. I'm gonna take a walk and then head to bed. Thanks for all the fun. Night, Kade." I spoke in a rush and left before Kade could even begin to protest. I wandered out across the resort gardens, needing to clear my head. It wasn't that Kade was unattractive, and his hand had certainly felt nice in mine, but I didn't have the best track record when it came to relationships, and I didn't want to add Kade to that list. I tried to convince myself that he was only being friendly, having fun, but I knew that was a lie. I sat down on the grass trying to think of a way out of this whole mess.
"Taryn, fancy meeting you here. Up for another round of zombie fighting?" Jackson's shadow appeared in the grass at my feet. Well, I'd already made a mess of this day, might as well go the whole nine yards.
"Sure, escaping into fiction sounds like a blast." I muttered. If Jackson heard what I said he made no comment, just settled on the grass next to me and pulled out the book. I forced Kade out of my mind as I focused on the best way to kill a zombie with a Nintendo 64. Soon enough Jackson and I were lying on the grass side by side and I was reaching over his arm to point out a particularly important sentence. When he placed his hand on mine I didn't shrug away and I found myself leaning in to his touch as he brushed my hair behind my ear when it fell onto the pages. When the light faded neither of us made a move to leave. We turned to our backs and he held my hand and we watched the sky as we talked. We talked about my parents' divorce, his father pressuring him to be a lawyer, my worries about school, his parents shipping him off to this resort and that hotel every summer because they were too busy to spend time with him, our shared love for Doctor Who and zombie books. Talking to Jackson was easy and no subject was off the table. Hours passed and yet still neither of us stopped talking. Then at some point Jackson was leaning over me, the moon shining a halo around his head, and then he was kissing me, and I was kissing him back.
Kissing Jackson was just as easy as talking to him. There were no worries, no guilt eating away at my stomach, just a happy little warmth in my gut. His lips were warm against mine and I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation. He came up for breath, but I didn't let that last long before I curled my fingers in his hair and pulled him back down.
"Taryn?" Kade's voice hit me like ice water and Jackson rolled away as I sprung up. I didn't know how long Kade had been standing there, but a look at his face told me it'd been long enough. I opened my mouth, not sure what I was going to say, but I never got the chance. Kade turned and ran.
"Well shit."
It started out glorious, I was so happy to get away from college and my parent's divorce, and just have some time to myself. I couldn't thank Kade enough for inviting me along when his sister bailed on their summer trip. He knew what I was going through, we've been friends for ages, and he thought a trip to Florida was just what I needed. We arrived at a swanky hotel, got adjoining rooms with queen beds and jacuzzi bathtubs. I spent that first night just wandering the resort taking in the three pools, spa, restaurants, and beautiful gardens and gazebos. It was in one of those gardens that I first ran into Jackson. He was lounging on a bench reading a book, and I'll admit I admired him from afar for quite awhile before building up the courage to speak. He was sexy, in a very nerdy way, with thick brown hair, square glasses, a tall lanky frame, and a shirt that read "Keep Calm and Don't Blink", and I was smitten. Eventually I made my way to stand over his bench.
"What are you reading?" I tried to sound casual, but I could feel my hands shaking. He looked up from the pages and I saw his bright blue eyes for the first time. I tried to remember to breath.
"Nothing much, it's a choose your own adventure book about the zombie apocalypse." He slipped in a piece of paper and held the book out to me. I flipped through the pages, trying to keep my hands still, and noticed the post-it tabs marking each ending.
"I do that too," I said without thinking, "mark all the endings so I know I don't miss any." Then my mind caught up with my mouth and I clamped it shut, what was I thinking talking to this strange boy I'd only just met. He didn't seem to notice, just nodded and took the book back when I offered. He studied me for a long moment and I was painfully aware that I was sweaty from running around and hadn't brushed my hair after the eight hour car ride. I resisted the urge to pull the tangles with my fingers, not wanting to draw more attention to my disheveled appearance.
"I'm just getting ready to start at the beginning again." He sat up as he spoke. "Want to help me survive the zombie apocalypse?" I must have given some reply, but I honestly don't remember. What I do remember is suddenly realizing it was getting too dark to read and that I had somehow ended up snuggled into the boy's side. We died for what must have been the dozenth time, and he closed the book. "It's too dark to read now, guess I'll have to save the zombie killing for another day."
I sat up straight and looked everywhere but at him. I couldn't believe I'd spent hours with a stranger, snuggled up to him even, and I didn't even know his name. "Well, that was fun," I said, still avoiding his eyes. "It was nice meeting you." I turned and walked quickly back towards my room, but a hand on my arm stopped me. I turned to look at his face.
"Hey, I just realized I didn't get your name, I'm Jackson." His voice was calm and cool, like he snuggled with strange girls every night, for all I knew he probably did. When he got back to his friends I'd be nothing but Sunday July 1st, another notch in his snuggling with strangers belt. I realized I was staring and shook my head.
"My name's Taryn." I managed, and then I turned and walked away. I waited until I was sure he could no longer see me and I sprinted back to my hotel room. I collapsed into bed, but even my dreams were invaded by a pair of bright blue eyes and zombies.
"You were out late last night." Kade commented as we walked to the park the next day. I felt my face flush and turned away.
"I got caught up reading in one of the gardens." Alright, so it wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either.
"That's good, I'm glad to see you relaxing instead of worrying." Kade gave me one of his wide smiles and lead the way through the turnstiles.
I hadn't been to a theme park in almost five years, not since my parents started fighting and family vacations ceased to exist. I was thrilled to be riding roller coasters and eating funnel cakes and corn dogs. Kade worked hard to make things fun, buying me silly souvenirs and joshing me into riding the kids rides and seeing the shows. I raced around as excited as any of the little children, laughing and smiling and delighting in every little thing. I happily went along when Kade grabbed my hand to pull me towards yet another ride, and when he didn't let go all the way through the line or even during the twists and turns of the coaster, I didn't give it a second thought. I was so happy to be having fun without my parents fighting or school stress weighing down my mind that I didn't even notice when he went from holding my hand to holding my waist. I was still riding the oblivious high when we sat down for dinner and Kade placed our haul in one bench and scooted in to sit next to me while we ate.
I finally noticed when we got back to the hotel and collapsed side my side on my bed. I noticed Kade was tracing patterns up and down my arm and it was like I suddenly awoke from a dream. This was Kade, my best friend, the boy who used to let me paint his nails and put lipstick on his face, my partner in crime when someone needed to be taught a lesson, the one who listened to all my boy troubles and offered sound advice in every situation. This was not the person I had a summer fling with. Not the person I ruined a friendship with for a pointless make out session. I bounced up from the bed.
"Well, I'd say we had a pretty full day. I'm gonna take a walk and then head to bed. Thanks for all the fun. Night, Kade." I spoke in a rush and left before Kade could even begin to protest. I wandered out across the resort gardens, needing to clear my head. It wasn't that Kade was unattractive, and his hand had certainly felt nice in mine, but I didn't have the best track record when it came to relationships, and I didn't want to add Kade to that list. I tried to convince myself that he was only being friendly, having fun, but I knew that was a lie. I sat down on the grass trying to think of a way out of this whole mess.
"Taryn, fancy meeting you here. Up for another round of zombie fighting?" Jackson's shadow appeared in the grass at my feet. Well, I'd already made a mess of this day, might as well go the whole nine yards.
"Sure, escaping into fiction sounds like a blast." I muttered. If Jackson heard what I said he made no comment, just settled on the grass next to me and pulled out the book. I forced Kade out of my mind as I focused on the best way to kill a zombie with a Nintendo 64. Soon enough Jackson and I were lying on the grass side by side and I was reaching over his arm to point out a particularly important sentence. When he placed his hand on mine I didn't shrug away and I found myself leaning in to his touch as he brushed my hair behind my ear when it fell onto the pages. When the light faded neither of us made a move to leave. We turned to our backs and he held my hand and we watched the sky as we talked. We talked about my parents' divorce, his father pressuring him to be a lawyer, my worries about school, his parents shipping him off to this resort and that hotel every summer because they were too busy to spend time with him, our shared love for Doctor Who and zombie books. Talking to Jackson was easy and no subject was off the table. Hours passed and yet still neither of us stopped talking. Then at some point Jackson was leaning over me, the moon shining a halo around his head, and then he was kissing me, and I was kissing him back.
Kissing Jackson was just as easy as talking to him. There were no worries, no guilt eating away at my stomach, just a happy little warmth in my gut. His lips were warm against mine and I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation. He came up for breath, but I didn't let that last long before I curled my fingers in his hair and pulled him back down.
"Taryn?" Kade's voice hit me like ice water and Jackson rolled away as I sprung up. I didn't know how long Kade had been standing there, but a look at his face told me it'd been long enough. I opened my mouth, not sure what I was going to say, but I never got the chance. Kade turned and ran.
"Well shit."
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
June 13th
So, it's Wednesday, the day I discuss actual life. Of course that doesn't mean that this post will actually contain real content, cause that's just a silly idea. If you've been with me for any length of time you are well aware that I value quantity over quality in these posts. It's about getting my words out there.
This week was my first non training week at Guest Services. I've only worked two days, but so far so good. I ask a lot of questions, but I think that's a good thing. So far it seems like my comments are meeting with approval from the powers that be. Had my first encounter with an IT issue today, which lead to the writing of much more comments, so that was fun. I'm sort of finding my groove with keeping the lines short and getting my comments done, which is good. It took me WAY less time to bank out today than it did on Sunday, and I think that's a sign I'm improving. Everyone I work with has been amazingly helpful and even when I ask what turns out to be a stupid question, they're willing to lend me a hand. All in all work is going along quite well, and I'm excited to go back tomorrow. I do miss Mummy (read the people at Mummy) a bit, but I think I might pick up a shift there next week, so I can get my fix.
Life with the married couple has actually been quite lovely. Our apartment is slowly turning from the "wedding war zone" back into a mildly habitable environment. I actually came home from work today to find Chris cleaning and then he went on to clean the dishes as well. It made me incredibly happy. The permanent addition of Chris has also brought other lovely things to our home; movies, shelves, regularly cooked meals, and a cardboard Boba Fett. I love our Boba Fett. He rests in the corner of the living room and I'll admit that he startles and scares me at least once a day. It usually goes something like this...
Mallory wanders into the living room, casually. She glances around that room and SEES A TALL SHADOWY FIGURE STANDING IN THE CORNER WHOISTHATIAMTERRFIEDAHHHHHHHHH! Mallory gasps, or on some occasions yelps, and then realizes that it's only Boba Fett. It's only Boba Fett. We have a freaking Boba Fett! We're SO cool!
Lather, rinse repeat.
We're also working on (perhaps) moving into a three bedroom. Nothing is set in stone, or even scribbled on paper, but I'm keeping my hopes up. I honestly don't care much at this point if we move apartments or just switch rooms, but Sara would like to move. We do have the issue of not having apartmate number four anymore, so we're going to have to do interviews for one. The way I imagine these interviews going in my head is probably hugely inaccurate, but until they happen in real life I'll stick with the awesome fantasy. We know that all potentials need to like Harry Potter and be alright with cats. The rest of the criteria is a little more flexible, but we've agreed that we all need to approve of them. I think this will make us happier in the end. Due to this vague possibility that my habitat will change, I've been trying a super clean of my room. You'll remember that I started this in May, but now I'm really getting to it. Today I went through my closet and made a HUGE pile of stuff to take to Salvation Army. I realized that I've lived here for almost a year, and if I haven't touched that stuff in that time, it's probably not going to change. I'll be continuing this tend, going from drawer to drawer, until I feel that I've lightened my possessions enough to pack things for a move.
I've been making good on my vow to keep up with YouTube despite the insane number of channels I'm subscribed to. Sometimes I think that I watch too much, but then I realize that everyone has their vices, and mine could be gambling, or cocaine, so I think a little daily YouTube watching it totally alright. I've also been reading a bit too much fanfiction, but I did finish a book (that I technically started in May) and I have another book ready to go. Meg got me a choose your own adventure zombie apocalypse book, and I already know it's gonna be awesome. Seems like something I might need, what with that man in Miami who ate another guys face. The zombies are coming, are you prepared?
Until tomorrow.
This week was my first non training week at Guest Services. I've only worked two days, but so far so good. I ask a lot of questions, but I think that's a good thing. So far it seems like my comments are meeting with approval from the powers that be. Had my first encounter with an IT issue today, which lead to the writing of much more comments, so that was fun. I'm sort of finding my groove with keeping the lines short and getting my comments done, which is good. It took me WAY less time to bank out today than it did on Sunday, and I think that's a sign I'm improving. Everyone I work with has been amazingly helpful and even when I ask what turns out to be a stupid question, they're willing to lend me a hand. All in all work is going along quite well, and I'm excited to go back tomorrow. I do miss Mummy (read the people at Mummy) a bit, but I think I might pick up a shift there next week, so I can get my fix.
Life with the married couple has actually been quite lovely. Our apartment is slowly turning from the "wedding war zone" back into a mildly habitable environment. I actually came home from work today to find Chris cleaning and then he went on to clean the dishes as well. It made me incredibly happy. The permanent addition of Chris has also brought other lovely things to our home; movies, shelves, regularly cooked meals, and a cardboard Boba Fett. I love our Boba Fett. He rests in the corner of the living room and I'll admit that he startles and scares me at least once a day. It usually goes something like this...
Mallory wanders into the living room, casually. She glances around that room and SEES A TALL SHADOWY FIGURE STANDING IN THE CORNER WHOISTHATIAMTERRFIEDAHHHHHHHHH! Mallory gasps, or on some occasions yelps, and then realizes that it's only Boba Fett. It's only Boba Fett. We have a freaking Boba Fett! We're SO cool!
Lather, rinse repeat.
We're also working on (perhaps) moving into a three bedroom. Nothing is set in stone, or even scribbled on paper, but I'm keeping my hopes up. I honestly don't care much at this point if we move apartments or just switch rooms, but Sara would like to move. We do have the issue of not having apartmate number four anymore, so we're going to have to do interviews for one. The way I imagine these interviews going in my head is probably hugely inaccurate, but until they happen in real life I'll stick with the awesome fantasy. We know that all potentials need to like Harry Potter and be alright with cats. The rest of the criteria is a little more flexible, but we've agreed that we all need to approve of them. I think this will make us happier in the end. Due to this vague possibility that my habitat will change, I've been trying a super clean of my room. You'll remember that I started this in May, but now I'm really getting to it. Today I went through my closet and made a HUGE pile of stuff to take to Salvation Army. I realized that I've lived here for almost a year, and if I haven't touched that stuff in that time, it's probably not going to change. I'll be continuing this tend, going from drawer to drawer, until I feel that I've lightened my possessions enough to pack things for a move.
I've been making good on my vow to keep up with YouTube despite the insane number of channels I'm subscribed to. Sometimes I think that I watch too much, but then I realize that everyone has their vices, and mine could be gambling, or cocaine, so I think a little daily YouTube watching it totally alright. I've also been reading a bit too much fanfiction, but I did finish a book (that I technically started in May) and I have another book ready to go. Meg got me a choose your own adventure zombie apocalypse book, and I already know it's gonna be awesome. Seems like something I might need, what with that man in Miami who ate another guys face. The zombies are coming, are you prepared?
Until tomorrow.
Monday, June 11, 2012
June 11th
I've been debating between writing about Sylvia more or perhaps more flash fiction. You'd figure I would have made this decision before I sat down to type, but that would just make sense, and I'm not really one for making sense. I still have a bunch of 750 words to catch up on, but I'll deal with that at another time. For now I'll just worry about the words for today. I'll just pick another picture and write a story.
Every time they look at me I can feel what they're thinking. They edge away from me, take the long way so they don't have to cross my path. Every single one of them is terrified of me. Worried that what I am, what I can do, is contagious. Mother's pull away their children and more than once a restaurant or store has turned down my money. Even the churches, supposedly places of peace and solace, have refused me entry. I wish I cared as little as I tell people I do. I wish that it didn't burn a hole in my chest each time someone who used to be my friend makes a quick excuse not to see me, or avoids my phone calls, or turns the other way on the street.
They say I bring half of it on myself, dressing the way that I do. They say that if I didn't look like some vampiric princess; all black dresses and red lips, that people might actually get over all the rest. They forget, or want me to, that when this all started I didn't dress this way. When it all began two years ago, I wore jeans and t-shirts like everyone else. I didn't change my clothes until the whispers began, until best friends were suddenly always busy, until the first day "Witch" was spray painted on my locker. That's when I figured that I might as well look the part, since people were going to treat me that way regardless. At first I relished in the way they looked at me, the little spark of fear in their eyes, it served them right for turning their backs on me. Now, I'm just too tired to care. Even Mother barely speaks to me, and when she does she refuses to acknowledge the existence of all the rest. She pretends that I'm just a normal teenage girl, acting out by wearing Gothic clothing, even though we both know I'm anything but normal.
When Stacy died I thought my heart would never mend. It didn't matter to me that I was adopted, that we weren't sisters by blood, I loved her more than anything. At first I was angry that she left me with Mother, who looked at me strangely even back then, but as the days went by anger faded into sadness. I didn't move from my bed for weeks, couldn't even go to the funeral. I refused to accept that Stacy was really gone. I'd spend my nights dreaming that I went to that party with her, that I drove home when she got drunk, that we made it safely to our beds, that she awoke the next morning with nothing more serious than a hangover. When I finally reached the point that I could accept that Stacy was gone, she came to me.
The first time it happened I was in my room. It was late at night and the glimpse of her I got in the mirror was obviously my mind playing tricks on me. I didn't think much of it until the trick repeated the next morning. When she was staring me down, pale and winged, in the middle of the school playground, I finally had to acknowledge that what I was seeing was real. I was thrilled beyond belief, so thrilled that I made the worst mistake of my life; I told someone. I was so happy to have Stacy back that I didn't think twice about sharing what I'd found, and once I acknowledged Stacy, they all started coming. Soon I met more of the dead while walking to school than I did the living.
I can feel Stacy's arms around my shoulders right now. She's telling me that I'm doing good, that I'm helping those who are dead. I try to believe that, and a part of me does believe that, but another part of me fights it. That part of me remembers what life was like before I saw them, the happiness I had, and misses it. The price for keeping Stacy has been the lose of every living friend I ever had. Yet, as I look at her face, and the happy faces of those around her, I realize it's a price I'm willing to pay. After all, these are friends I'll have for eternity.
******************
Until tomorrow.
They say I bring half of it on myself, dressing the way that I do. They say that if I didn't look like some vampiric princess; all black dresses and red lips, that people might actually get over all the rest. They forget, or want me to, that when this all started I didn't dress this way. When it all began two years ago, I wore jeans and t-shirts like everyone else. I didn't change my clothes until the whispers began, until best friends were suddenly always busy, until the first day "Witch" was spray painted on my locker. That's when I figured that I might as well look the part, since people were going to treat me that way regardless. At first I relished in the way they looked at me, the little spark of fear in their eyes, it served them right for turning their backs on me. Now, I'm just too tired to care. Even Mother barely speaks to me, and when she does she refuses to acknowledge the existence of all the rest. She pretends that I'm just a normal teenage girl, acting out by wearing Gothic clothing, even though we both know I'm anything but normal.
When Stacy died I thought my heart would never mend. It didn't matter to me that I was adopted, that we weren't sisters by blood, I loved her more than anything. At first I was angry that she left me with Mother, who looked at me strangely even back then, but as the days went by anger faded into sadness. I didn't move from my bed for weeks, couldn't even go to the funeral. I refused to accept that Stacy was really gone. I'd spend my nights dreaming that I went to that party with her, that I drove home when she got drunk, that we made it safely to our beds, that she awoke the next morning with nothing more serious than a hangover. When I finally reached the point that I could accept that Stacy was gone, she came to me.
The first time it happened I was in my room. It was late at night and the glimpse of her I got in the mirror was obviously my mind playing tricks on me. I didn't think much of it until the trick repeated the next morning. When she was staring me down, pale and winged, in the middle of the school playground, I finally had to acknowledge that what I was seeing was real. I was thrilled beyond belief, so thrilled that I made the worst mistake of my life; I told someone. I was so happy to have Stacy back that I didn't think twice about sharing what I'd found, and once I acknowledged Stacy, they all started coming. Soon I met more of the dead while walking to school than I did the living.
I can feel Stacy's arms around my shoulders right now. She's telling me that I'm doing good, that I'm helping those who are dead. I try to believe that, and a part of me does believe that, but another part of me fights it. That part of me remembers what life was like before I saw them, the happiness I had, and misses it. The price for keeping Stacy has been the lose of every living friend I ever had. Yet, as I look at her face, and the happy faces of those around her, I realize it's a price I'm willing to pay. After all, these are friends I'll have for eternity.
******************
Until tomorrow.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
June 10th
I decided to base a story off of this image.
The autumn leaves fell around her as she stood amid the trees. She
stared down at the white flowing dress and was once again struck by the
insanity of what was happening. What sort of life was she living? She
just wanted to run away, to escape back to the abandoned castle where
she'd last felt safe. Before she could get her body to obey her heart a
strong hand ringed her wrist.
"Thinking of running darling?" The man's voice was even larger than his hands. "You can try if you want, but that will only make it worse." A deep laugh escaped the cage of his yellowing teeth and thick black beard. She fought down the bile that rose in her throat. She knew what she had to do, even if she hated it.
"Of course not." She managed to choke out. "I was merely imagining how wonderful my life is going to be. The excitement got to me." She tried to smile, she knew it looked fake, but it seemed to please the man. He loosened his grip on her wrist from painful to merely restrictive.
"The Prince will be pleased to hear that. He is also excited for this day." The man was grinning now, and a few of the other men (her honor guard) joined in. She fought hard to keep the tears from her eyes. Once again she considered escape, but the pressure on her wrist and the five other men surrounding her reminded her that it was a foolish notion. Instead she used her free hand to fiddle with the long flowing dress, and gently ran her fingers over the slim dagger hidden at her thigh. She had been lucky that the Prince had forbidden his men to watch her dress, or she doubted she'd have even this small comfort.
The man pulled her along as they continued their march through the shadows of the forest, and she found the crunch of dead leaves under her feet rather fitting for a day like this. Ahead she could see the small gazebo and the rows and rows of chairs laid out in front of it. Hundreds of people looked to her as she walked, but not a single one was a familiar face. At the gazebo stood the Prince, dressed in a beautiful dark blue suit, looking deceptively dashing. She had to admit that from the outside he seemed like a dream, beautiful, strong, and rich, but she knew better. She'd known from the second she met him.
The way he'd held her face, roughly, and turned her head this way and that. He'd touched her hair, her face, her body, like she was a statue and not a person. He never spoke to her, just at her, calling her "the girl". She tried to speak to him early on, to understand what was happening, but he'd only laughed at her as one would a pet. In fact, since she'd met him, she'd often felt like a pet. He dressed her up and lead her around wherever he went. He never spoke to her, and neither did his subjects, they treated her like a beautiful bird. They complimented the Prince on how beautiful "the girl" was and hands were constantly running over her body and through her hair. She imagined that this is what life as a cat was like, but while cats seemed to enjoy it, she did not. But she learned early on not to complain.
She'd been with the Prince for barely two days when she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't handle being petted and ignored like a dog. In the middle of dinner she demanded that somebody tell her what was going on, and that the Prince show some respect, she wasn't an animal. The Prince had politely excused himself, explaining to the court that "the girl" was having a rough time adjusting to court life. She still remembered his bruising grip on her arm and the vein that stood out on his neck as he lead her from the hall. She didn't return to meals in the hall for five days, which is how long it took the bruises on her face and body to fade. When she did return she sat in calm silence, allowing the conversation to flow around her, and meekly submitting to the caresses of the Prince and his court.
Now, three weeks later, she was dressed in white, and walking down the aisle towards the one person she hated most in the world. The bruises on her back, badges from her escape attempt yesterday, were hidden by layers of fabric, but she felt them as she walked. In a daze she repeated the words when prompted and accepted the Prince's rough and possessive kiss without reaction. Before she knew it she was being swept through the applauding crowd. There was food and dancing and everyone stepped forward to congratulate the Prince and caress her face or hair. The evening seemed to go on forever and it was well after midnight before the Prince took her back to his chambers. Nothing the Prince did was gentle, but she endured silently until he finally fell into satisfied slumber.
When his breath deepened she slipped from the bed. As there were no other clothes in the Prince's room, she pulled on the white dress once more, checking to make sure the dagger was still hidden in the folds. She gently pushed open the door and was delighted to find the hallway empty. The Prince's men were likely taking part in their own late night celebrations. She crept down the hall silent as a ghost and made her way out of the castle. The guards at the gate were distracted by a pitcher of wine and a group of young serving girls. Everyone so focused on celebration that they never thought to turn their eyes to the forest.
As soon as she entered the trees she began to run. The leaves crumbled under her feet and tangled in her dress. Branches pulled at her hair, but she didn't dare slow her pace. She made it to the ruins just as the sun was beginning to rise. She crept through the eroded rooms until she came to the place it all began. She stared through the circular window at the rising son. This was the place she'd fallen asleep, it had seemed so comforting then. When she awoke, to a rough possessive kiss from the Prince, it had been anything but. Her home nothing but ruins, everyone she knew long gone and forgotten. Nothing left for her but a Prince who didn't love her and a court that saw her as nothing but a pretty creature. Since the moment she'd been awoken she'd wanted nothing more than to return to her slumber, to her family and friends. Now she had the chance. She climbed onto the bed under the window and laid down. As the alarm bells rang through the trees, announcing her escape from the castle, she slipped the dagger from her skirt, slid it smoothly through her skin into her heart, and closed her eyes; ready to dream.
"Thinking of running darling?" The man's voice was even larger than his hands. "You can try if you want, but that will only make it worse." A deep laugh escaped the cage of his yellowing teeth and thick black beard. She fought down the bile that rose in her throat. She knew what she had to do, even if she hated it.
"Of course not." She managed to choke out. "I was merely imagining how wonderful my life is going to be. The excitement got to me." She tried to smile, she knew it looked fake, but it seemed to please the man. He loosened his grip on her wrist from painful to merely restrictive.
"The Prince will be pleased to hear that. He is also excited for this day." The man was grinning now, and a few of the other men (her honor guard) joined in. She fought hard to keep the tears from her eyes. Once again she considered escape, but the pressure on her wrist and the five other men surrounding her reminded her that it was a foolish notion. Instead she used her free hand to fiddle with the long flowing dress, and gently ran her fingers over the slim dagger hidden at her thigh. She had been lucky that the Prince had forbidden his men to watch her dress, or she doubted she'd have even this small comfort.
The man pulled her along as they continued their march through the shadows of the forest, and she found the crunch of dead leaves under her feet rather fitting for a day like this. Ahead she could see the small gazebo and the rows and rows of chairs laid out in front of it. Hundreds of people looked to her as she walked, but not a single one was a familiar face. At the gazebo stood the Prince, dressed in a beautiful dark blue suit, looking deceptively dashing. She had to admit that from the outside he seemed like a dream, beautiful, strong, and rich, but she knew better. She'd known from the second she met him.
The way he'd held her face, roughly, and turned her head this way and that. He'd touched her hair, her face, her body, like she was a statue and not a person. He never spoke to her, just at her, calling her "the girl". She tried to speak to him early on, to understand what was happening, but he'd only laughed at her as one would a pet. In fact, since she'd met him, she'd often felt like a pet. He dressed her up and lead her around wherever he went. He never spoke to her, and neither did his subjects, they treated her like a beautiful bird. They complimented the Prince on how beautiful "the girl" was and hands were constantly running over her body and through her hair. She imagined that this is what life as a cat was like, but while cats seemed to enjoy it, she did not. But she learned early on not to complain.
She'd been with the Prince for barely two days when she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't handle being petted and ignored like a dog. In the middle of dinner she demanded that somebody tell her what was going on, and that the Prince show some respect, she wasn't an animal. The Prince had politely excused himself, explaining to the court that "the girl" was having a rough time adjusting to court life. She still remembered his bruising grip on her arm and the vein that stood out on his neck as he lead her from the hall. She didn't return to meals in the hall for five days, which is how long it took the bruises on her face and body to fade. When she did return she sat in calm silence, allowing the conversation to flow around her, and meekly submitting to the caresses of the Prince and his court.
Now, three weeks later, she was dressed in white, and walking down the aisle towards the one person she hated most in the world. The bruises on her back, badges from her escape attempt yesterday, were hidden by layers of fabric, but she felt them as she walked. In a daze she repeated the words when prompted and accepted the Prince's rough and possessive kiss without reaction. Before she knew it she was being swept through the applauding crowd. There was food and dancing and everyone stepped forward to congratulate the Prince and caress her face or hair. The evening seemed to go on forever and it was well after midnight before the Prince took her back to his chambers. Nothing the Prince did was gentle, but she endured silently until he finally fell into satisfied slumber.
When his breath deepened she slipped from the bed. As there were no other clothes in the Prince's room, she pulled on the white dress once more, checking to make sure the dagger was still hidden in the folds. She gently pushed open the door and was delighted to find the hallway empty. The Prince's men were likely taking part in their own late night celebrations. She crept down the hall silent as a ghost and made her way out of the castle. The guards at the gate were distracted by a pitcher of wine and a group of young serving girls. Everyone so focused on celebration that they never thought to turn their eyes to the forest.
As soon as she entered the trees she began to run. The leaves crumbled under her feet and tangled in her dress. Branches pulled at her hair, but she didn't dare slow her pace. She made it to the ruins just as the sun was beginning to rise. She crept through the eroded rooms until she came to the place it all began. She stared through the circular window at the rising son. This was the place she'd fallen asleep, it had seemed so comforting then. When she awoke, to a rough possessive kiss from the Prince, it had been anything but. Her home nothing but ruins, everyone she knew long gone and forgotten. Nothing left for her but a Prince who didn't love her and a court that saw her as nothing but a pretty creature. Since the moment she'd been awoken she'd wanted nothing more than to return to her slumber, to her family and friends. Now she had the chance. She climbed onto the bed under the window and laid down. As the alarm bells rang through the trees, announcing her escape from the castle, she slipped the dagger from her skirt, slid it smoothly through her skin into her heart, and closed her eyes; ready to dream.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
June 9th
I spent most of today with Meg, and we had a ton of fun so I feel like today is another day for a list of wonderful things.
Munchkin- The entire point of this game is to destroy monsters and cheat, and I love it. I've never played a bad game of Munchkin. As long as everyone comes in expecting to have a blast, that is what is gonna happen.
Magic the Gathering- I'm just starting to play this card game, but I already like it quite a bit. I play only for fun, and that means no stress, and lots of laughter.
Reorganizing- I don't necessarily like to vacuum or wash things, but I LOVE reorganizing my space. Since we're considering the moving thing, I've been doing a lot of that.
Star Wars- I feel like I've said this before, but another day at Star Wars weekends has solidified this in my brain. Despite my love for Harry Potter, there is still something special and different about everything Star Wars. I think it's just been with me so long that it holds a special place in my heart.
Chocolate- I just ate a chocolate bar, and the plain creamy milk chocolate, is still the best. I don't need anything fancy, the plain chocolate is just fine by me.
Frozen Vegetables- I buy them cheap, they last forever, and I can just throw them in the pot with my Ramen noodles. I'll never claim to eat healthy, but I don't do too bad.
Sharpies- I love sharpies, in all different colors. They draw on anything, and make a great tool for temporary tattoos.
Pokemon- I grew up playing those games, and I still like playing them to blow of steam to this day. Besides, I still haven't managed to catch them all, but someday I will.
Sushi- This is probably my current favorite food, and I would eat sushi for every single meal if I had that kind of money. Instead I settle for eating it about once a month, often less. My favorite sushi roll is salmon tempura rolls, but most places don't have them. Pretty much every single restaurant carries California rolls, and I like those too.
Writing- Despite the fact that sometimes I'm writing these 750 words late at night and without a single idea, I find that I actually enjoy it. I've also found that I feel a lot more like writing fiction, and look forward to my fiction days. Writing is fun for me, and I like to bring out those characters in my head and let them run around a little.
Milk- Everyone has their drink of choice for when you need to cool down, and mine is milk. I find it super refreshing and it has a little more going for it than just plain water. Plus less sugar than soda. Better for me and delicious, I really can't go wrong.
Converse shoes- I love the way they look and feel and just wearing a pair makes me feel so happy. I think that's largely because I associate them very strongly with Wizard Rock and all my Potter friends. So even thought I might be miles away from all those people, wearing converse makes me feel connected to them.
The Sims- I haven't played a lot of video games lately, there's been a lot of other things on my plate, but I will always love the Sims. My favorite part of most games is creating a character and writing their story (can you tell I like to write yet), and the Sims is basically only making a character and writing their story. It's everything I want and doesn't include all of the things, like shooting enemies, that I'm notoriously terrible at.
Doctor Who- I can't get enough of a ton of British TV shows, but Doctor Who tops that list for sure. From characters to plot to dialogue, I'm always impressed with each episode, and I find myself falling more and more in love with the show each time I watch. Who wouldn't want to learn more about a man who traveling through space and time in a police box.
Temporary tattoos- I do have a single real tattoo on my foot, and I'm considering a couple other ideas, but I will still use temporary tattoos. There's just something great about being able to cover myself in art that I know will come right off in a day. Plus there's the sparkle factor. There are TONS of glittery metallic temporary tattoos, but I have yet to ever see a sparkly actual tattoo.
Until tomorrow.
Munchkin- The entire point of this game is to destroy monsters and cheat, and I love it. I've never played a bad game of Munchkin. As long as everyone comes in expecting to have a blast, that is what is gonna happen.
Magic the Gathering- I'm just starting to play this card game, but I already like it quite a bit. I play only for fun, and that means no stress, and lots of laughter.
Reorganizing- I don't necessarily like to vacuum or wash things, but I LOVE reorganizing my space. Since we're considering the moving thing, I've been doing a lot of that.
Star Wars- I feel like I've said this before, but another day at Star Wars weekends has solidified this in my brain. Despite my love for Harry Potter, there is still something special and different about everything Star Wars. I think it's just been with me so long that it holds a special place in my heart.
Chocolate- I just ate a chocolate bar, and the plain creamy milk chocolate, is still the best. I don't need anything fancy, the plain chocolate is just fine by me.
Frozen Vegetables- I buy them cheap, they last forever, and I can just throw them in the pot with my Ramen noodles. I'll never claim to eat healthy, but I don't do too bad.
Sharpies- I love sharpies, in all different colors. They draw on anything, and make a great tool for temporary tattoos.
Pokemon- I grew up playing those games, and I still like playing them to blow of steam to this day. Besides, I still haven't managed to catch them all, but someday I will.
Sushi- This is probably my current favorite food, and I would eat sushi for every single meal if I had that kind of money. Instead I settle for eating it about once a month, often less. My favorite sushi roll is salmon tempura rolls, but most places don't have them. Pretty much every single restaurant carries California rolls, and I like those too.
Writing- Despite the fact that sometimes I'm writing these 750 words late at night and without a single idea, I find that I actually enjoy it. I've also found that I feel a lot more like writing fiction, and look forward to my fiction days. Writing is fun for me, and I like to bring out those characters in my head and let them run around a little.
Milk- Everyone has their drink of choice for when you need to cool down, and mine is milk. I find it super refreshing and it has a little more going for it than just plain water. Plus less sugar than soda. Better for me and delicious, I really can't go wrong.
Converse shoes- I love the way they look and feel and just wearing a pair makes me feel so happy. I think that's largely because I associate them very strongly with Wizard Rock and all my Potter friends. So even thought I might be miles away from all those people, wearing converse makes me feel connected to them.
The Sims- I haven't played a lot of video games lately, there's been a lot of other things on my plate, but I will always love the Sims. My favorite part of most games is creating a character and writing their story (can you tell I like to write yet), and the Sims is basically only making a character and writing their story. It's everything I want and doesn't include all of the things, like shooting enemies, that I'm notoriously terrible at.
Doctor Who- I can't get enough of a ton of British TV shows, but Doctor Who tops that list for sure. From characters to plot to dialogue, I'm always impressed with each episode, and I find myself falling more and more in love with the show each time I watch. Who wouldn't want to learn more about a man who traveling through space and time in a police box.
Temporary tattoos- I do have a single real tattoo on my foot, and I'm considering a couple other ideas, but I will still use temporary tattoos. There's just something great about being able to cover myself in art that I know will come right off in a day. Plus there's the sparkle factor. There are TONS of glittery metallic temporary tattoos, but I have yet to ever see a sparkly actual tattoo.
Until tomorrow.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
June 7th
My eyes close and my mind wanders. Slowly, I begin to forget where I am, but soon an announcement comes over the intercom or I turn ever so slightly and catch a whiff of industrial cleaner, then it all comes flooding back. The sounds of the hospital fill my ears. The cries and grunts of expecting mothers and the worrisome shifting of feet by the fathers. The yelling fights at the nurse's station over insurance, and the ragged breathing of the injured. The continuous crying of the people in the waiting room, but whether because they are happy or sad I have no idea. Luckily with my eyes closed I can still ignore the reason I'm here. Yet, I still smell the much to lemony industrial cleaner, the sour disinfectant, and the salty stench of blood. Tears fill my still closed eyes.
****************************
I fight them down, try to think of something else, anything to avoid thinking about what I am doing in a hospital. Someone stumbles into my leg, but I refuse to open my eyes, and let them continue on their way. I know that if I open my eyes now, everything is lost, I will no longer be able to ignore the truth. I focus my mind on the past, on happier times, happier days. My thoughts immediately travel to the day I met Jessie.
I'd been working outside in the hot sun, building a shed for my father, when he walked up to me. He said he'd been walking down the street when he noticed a young girl doing work that was obviously meant for two. He reached over my shoulder and held up a board so I could nail it in. He offered his help, and I accepted. It quickly became clear that he wasn't really of any use as a carpenter, but he was pleasant to talk to, and even more pleasant to look at, especially when he took off his shirt. When I finally finished building the shed I invited Jessie in for a cold drink and a snack. He spoke just as easily to my father as he had to me, and when he finished his drink I invited him to help me paint the shed the next day. I was sixteen then.
"Dr. Matson, please report to OR 7, Dr. Matson, please report to OR 7." A woman's voice fizzles through the intercom. My eyes flash open, only for a second, but that's long enough. The fluorescent light burns my eyes, but the momentary blindness fades quickly, and the waiting room comes into sharp focus. I shut my eyes almost instantly, but the vision of the room is seared onto the back of my eyelids. I can see the nurse behind the counter shaking her head at the man argueing with her. I can see the bloddy bandaged arm of the man sitting next to me. I can see the little girl hugging her mother's legs and crying. I can see the forms in my hands, the ones I've been writing on...no I can't think of them. Think of anything else.
Jessie planned a completely insane eighteenth birthday for me. He said he wanted my initiation into adulthood to be unforgettable. I asked him if he actually wanted me to grow up considered that the celebration consisted of finger painting, play doh, roller skating, and watching lots of children's movies. Still, it was the most fun I'd had in a long time, the most fun I'd had since my mother died. When the night ended in a pillow fight and a not quite so innocent sleep over I knew it would be my best birthday ever. It was also the first time I told Jessie I loved him.
"Ms. Harrison, Melody?" says a voice above me. Reluctantly I open my eyes and look up at the nurse. She gives me a sad smile. "Have you finished the paperwork?" I glance down at the forms, only half finished, and shake my head.
"I'm sorry...it's just...I can't" I stutter to a stop. I'm not sure how to explain what I'm thinking to the nurse, but she simply smiles and lays her hand over mine.
"It's quite alright, there will be time for that later. Right now they are ready for you." She stands and I follow without really thinking about it or paying attention to where I'm going. She leads me down the hall to a small room. There is a doctor there and she offers me the same sad smile. I try not to look around, not to see the bed, but I can't help myself. Jessie lies there, his face barely recognizable, half his body covered in casts. Beeping and pulsing machines surround his body, tubes run into him from every side. When I can't bear the sight of it anymore I turn to the doctor.
"We've done everything we could, but I'm afraid the injuries were too severe. He likely won't make it another hour. I'm surprised he's managed to hang on this long. I'm so sorry." I hear the doctor's words, but I can't accept them, they can't be true.
"But, he's only nineteen, we're supposed to get married next week. We have an entire life to live." I say, feeling the tears start to flow down my cheeks. The nurse squeezes my hand, but I shake her off and go to Jessie. "You can't be dying, I won't allow it. You promised me vanilla cake and a honeymoon I would never forget. You can't leave me now."
I grab Jessie's hand and hold tight, but he doesn't squeeze back. I sit there, crying and begging him not to leave as the heart monitor begins to blip slower and slower. Then I lean down and kiss him until I hear nothing but the long steady beep that tells me my best friend is gone forever.
****************************
I fight them down, try to think of something else, anything to avoid thinking about what I am doing in a hospital. Someone stumbles into my leg, but I refuse to open my eyes, and let them continue on their way. I know that if I open my eyes now, everything is lost, I will no longer be able to ignore the truth. I focus my mind on the past, on happier times, happier days. My thoughts immediately travel to the day I met Jessie.
I'd been working outside in the hot sun, building a shed for my father, when he walked up to me. He said he'd been walking down the street when he noticed a young girl doing work that was obviously meant for two. He reached over my shoulder and held up a board so I could nail it in. He offered his help, and I accepted. It quickly became clear that he wasn't really of any use as a carpenter, but he was pleasant to talk to, and even more pleasant to look at, especially when he took off his shirt. When I finally finished building the shed I invited Jessie in for a cold drink and a snack. He spoke just as easily to my father as he had to me, and when he finished his drink I invited him to help me paint the shed the next day. I was sixteen then.
"Dr. Matson, please report to OR 7, Dr. Matson, please report to OR 7." A woman's voice fizzles through the intercom. My eyes flash open, only for a second, but that's long enough. The fluorescent light burns my eyes, but the momentary blindness fades quickly, and the waiting room comes into sharp focus. I shut my eyes almost instantly, but the vision of the room is seared onto the back of my eyelids. I can see the nurse behind the counter shaking her head at the man argueing with her. I can see the bloddy bandaged arm of the man sitting next to me. I can see the little girl hugging her mother's legs and crying. I can see the forms in my hands, the ones I've been writing on...no I can't think of them. Think of anything else.
Jessie planned a completely insane eighteenth birthday for me. He said he wanted my initiation into adulthood to be unforgettable. I asked him if he actually wanted me to grow up considered that the celebration consisted of finger painting, play doh, roller skating, and watching lots of children's movies. Still, it was the most fun I'd had in a long time, the most fun I'd had since my mother died. When the night ended in a pillow fight and a not quite so innocent sleep over I knew it would be my best birthday ever. It was also the first time I told Jessie I loved him.
"Ms. Harrison, Melody?" says a voice above me. Reluctantly I open my eyes and look up at the nurse. She gives me a sad smile. "Have you finished the paperwork?" I glance down at the forms, only half finished, and shake my head.
"I'm sorry...it's just...I can't" I stutter to a stop. I'm not sure how to explain what I'm thinking to the nurse, but she simply smiles and lays her hand over mine.
"It's quite alright, there will be time for that later. Right now they are ready for you." She stands and I follow without really thinking about it or paying attention to where I'm going. She leads me down the hall to a small room. There is a doctor there and she offers me the same sad smile. I try not to look around, not to see the bed, but I can't help myself. Jessie lies there, his face barely recognizable, half his body covered in casts. Beeping and pulsing machines surround his body, tubes run into him from every side. When I can't bear the sight of it anymore I turn to the doctor.
"We've done everything we could, but I'm afraid the injuries were too severe. He likely won't make it another hour. I'm surprised he's managed to hang on this long. I'm so sorry." I hear the doctor's words, but I can't accept them, they can't be true.
"But, he's only nineteen, we're supposed to get married next week. We have an entire life to live." I say, feeling the tears start to flow down my cheeks. The nurse squeezes my hand, but I shake her off and go to Jessie. "You can't be dying, I won't allow it. You promised me vanilla cake and a honeymoon I would never forget. You can't leave me now."
I grab Jessie's hand and hold tight, but he doesn't squeeze back. I sit there, crying and begging him not to leave as the heart monitor begins to blip slower and slower. Then I lean down and kiss him until I hear nothing but the long steady beep that tells me my best friend is gone forever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)