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[10 Jul 2006|08:04pm]

writing_dreamer
I posted here a while ago about a work in progress, Staves. It is still a work in progress, of course, but I've completed the introduction and tried to clarify a few things. I've also written a little more and included a soundtrack. (Yes, a soundtrack. I kept listening to music and thinking, "Oh! This captures _______ about/in Staves!" So I compiled them and am offering them up for download should anyone be curious (but only for seven days, since it's yousendit.))

Sample:

To find the beginning of this story, one would have to go to the very beginning of a life, which would lead to the beginning of a relationship, which would lead to the beginning of the world, which would in turn lead to another beginning (the world had to come from somewhere, after all), so on and so forth, until before long the relevant story is lost beneath a recapping of history.

With this in mind, an effort shall be undertaken to shorten the length of this work and choose a specific beginning. I briefly mention a war that has been going on since before man noticed the stars, a war greater than any other war conceived. And in this world dropped a small girl, smaller in importance than a hobbit in Middle Earth (pre-Ring); her significance, in the long run, was the same as almost anyone’s– Insubstantial. She was, to be frank, less important than a drop in the ocean.

Her name, as it is customary to give the names of characters, was Madison Hadley. Children delighted in calling her Mad Hadder. They thought themselves witty.

(link)
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[21 Jun 2006|04:34pm]

writing_dreamer
Working on the beginning of a story and want to get opinions on whether or not it has potential.

Working Title: Staves
Genre: Fantasy
Premise: A ritual must be done to renew the world and keep it from dying. Two bands of people are in a battle over whether or not to complete the ritual or let the world die. Into the cracks falls a mortal girl who happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Link.

Input is very much appreciated.
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Good Morning! [15 Jun 2006|01:15pm]

eternal_jazz
Oooh-

I was immediately attracted to this community. Mostly because of the name. *grins* I wanted to introduce me-self since it seems that you could use a post of some type.

Hi - My name is Rachel and I'm a writer.

In other news I'm also a roleplayer and a haunter of hack-n-slash MMORPGS where I attempt to roleplay anyways.

But yes, anyways, it's time to pimp my writing journal : morningglorious. I write sci-fi and fantasy and dark fiction in any genre. I've also just finish a play that's way-the-heck too long to post anywhere on the intarweb.

I am really looking forwards to being a part of this community. ^_^
3 comments|post comment

[17 Apr 2006|11:01pm]

writing_dreamer
I'm not sure if this is allowed; if not, please feel free to delete it, or inform me, and I'll delete it.

I figure everyone here is interested in writing, and some people, presumably, are interested in writers. Well, there are RPs on livejournal, and one of them is negability, where people pretend to be authors born before 1900, reincarnated and attending present-day high school. One of the best parts is seeing how the authors might have developed, like if Wilde hadn't been persecuted for his homosexuality, or if T.E. Lawrence and William Blake stole H.G. Wells' time machine. If anyone is interested, please check it out.

Active members are on the main page; pretty much everyone else is up for grabs.
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[02 Mar 2006|06:18pm]

bdouglas
first off i desire to address that i am not an avid writer, secondly i am not fond of adhering  to the typically mechanics of written english... mostly because i think that they are annoying to comply with... mostly the grammar, and i am not fond of capital letters, nor contractions.  but then i have this thing where i cannot really write well (i do not mean type, i mean with a pen and paper)... it is similar to being dyslexic but it i refer to it as being disgraphic... which has long contributed to my misspellings, since elementary school. i plan to mostly watch this group until i understand it. then perhaps post...

oh and before i forget i stumbled onto this group from a friends ruffian_wind in one of her post she titled, w3.livejournal.com/update?=true so i decided to see ware that took me, and well i am here... this is a nice group...

and if i become to annoying just delete me, or tell em to shut up
1 comment|post comment

[03 Nov 2005|05:06pm]

kiandra_fire
Out of curiosity, how many w3 members are participating in Nanowrimo this year?
3 comments|post comment

Writing at work [07 Sep 2005|10:16am]

zair
Heh, this place isn't seeing much activity..
I want to apologise for my lack of reviewing concerning other people's work... I don't have much time to myself these days. I had a random idea at work the other day for an opening to a story, so I stopped working to type for 15 minutes. It's the only writing I've done all year I think, please take a look at it (though I might not even deserve to ask for it) and tell me what you think (grammatically or concept)

The beginningCollapse )
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[16 May 2005|08:49pm]

writing_dreamer
So is anybody else having difficulty writing anything? I can't access the main story on my computer because I don't have the word program it needs.

But in the meantime, who RPs and how (through IM, so on)?
1 comment|post comment

More Poems- Oh Noes! [17 Feb 2005|08:40am]

kiandra_fire
Hello all! I redid "Wasted." I think it's better now, but I'd like to know what you guys think. And maybe if you could tell me one of the lines you like the most (if there are any)? That would be great... And then I wrote another last night that I'm not quite so sure about. I plan on submitting these tomorrow, so any help would... er... help. Thank you!

Sorry for putting them up here again, Alan, but I'm not quite sure I understand what I remember of what you told me. (*woke up early*)

WastedCollapse )


Scar TissueCollapse )
1 comment|post comment

Poem [13 Feb 2005|09:38pm]

kiandra_fire
Should I submit this to the Auburn Circle? And if so, what tweaks do you guys recommend?

WastedCollapse )
1 comment|post comment

Ongoing RPG... [28 Jan 2005|12:29am]

zair
[ mood | annoyed ]

Tobias had been up for nearly an hour when his master, Alara (Keman when in male form) bid him to wake up the two guests at mid-morning.

So the charge took some tea and biscuits - a typical mid-morning snack - and knocked on the door of their guest's sleeping quarters. "Wake-up you two, you've had enough sleep." He grumbled.

Ryan pulled the door open; the only thing that prevented the door from coming off its hinges was that Ryan hadn't considered pulling it off the hinges.

"Hello, Tobias," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "My sister is still asleep. Might you have any idea why?"

"Because nobody's waken her up yet....?" Tobias shrugged, "You want something to eat?" He held up the tray. As he did, he realised something in the tone of Ryan's voice that suggested he was angry with something.

"We usually get up shortly before dawn," Ryan said, his voice musing but cold. He took the tray.

Verala caught the scent of the food and stirred, soon lifting her head. Her curls blocked her face from view from a moment before she brushed them away. "Is that breakfast? I'm famished!"

"Yes," Ryan said, setting the tray down within her reach. She quickly poured herself some tea and grabbed a biscuit. "Hunger is a side-effect of being drugged." She looked stricken, a biscuit halfway in her mouth. His voice rose. "Isn't that right, Tobias?"

A cold shock flashed through Tobias' body, but he managed to keep his composure, "Uh, sometimes it is. But you two were travelling all day yesterday, and you're not really used to it." He pointed out quickly.
"Are you talking about the tubers..?" He asked quickly, rubbing the back of his neck absently. If he could convince Ryan that it was something in the soil here that affected the tubers...

"But we've been travelling for days. We didn't even get caught be bandits or use our Gifts yesterday," Verala pointed out reasonably.

Ryan was not quite so reasonable. "And why, of all the things you served at dinner, do you mention the tubers?"

Tobias sighed as if he knew what he was talking about, "The tubers soak up something in the soil here. You must realise that there's consiquences to my master's magic, right? Well, when she needs to ground herself, it goes into the earth here. The tubers soak up some of that, and sometimes produce a drug-like effect." Tobias explained, "Uh, sorry about not warning you about it, we're kinda used to it. Master.. Keman it immune to.. his own magic, and I've just developed an immunity to the tubers. Heh." He sighed as he laughed.

Just down the hall Keman listen in her male form and snickered to herself, 'as if that foolboy would ever become immune to MY magic..' she thought.

Ryan didn't respond, looking stonily at his food.

Verala took it upon herself to speak. "Is there anything in the breakfast we should be made aware?" she asked.

Her brother stood. "We're leaving immediately after this anyway. Drugged or not, we're leaving."

"Don't worry about breakfast," Tobias told Verala quickly, and looked back and Ryan, trying to be as sincere as he could without looking fake, "You're welcome to come along with me still, I was just stopping here to get more instruction from my master."
In the back of his mind he thought how he might not mind letting them go off on their own if his master, Alara, hadn't asked that he have them with him.

"I suppose that would be nice," Verala said just as Ryan said, "We'd much rather not."

They paused to look at each other. Ryan looked away first.

"Where will you be going?" she asked.

Tobias raised an eyebrow in Ryan's general direction as he looked away, "I - will be going to Hartlend to pay homage to the hunter god, Faramin." Tobias told them, "I am to see each of the god's artifacts to see and understand the significance of objects of power or some dribble, er, something imporant like that." He then explained, twirling at the air with his index finger.

"Is Hartlend farther away from Marsburg?" Verala asked hopefully.

(OOC: I've forgotten what/where Marsburg is, so I can't really answer)

OOC: They're the children of a baron in Marsburg, whom they're running from. Tobias might not even have heard of it. And should we start a new thread? This one is getting kinda tight.

OOC: OK, refer to the comment on this for my post.

15 comments|post comment

War of Weatherby [15 Jan 2005|11:34pm]

kiandra_fire
Just so we have a post on here (things have gotten awfully quiet around here lately)...

http://www.fictionpress.com/read.php?storyid=1808799

It's the War of Weatherby story I've been working on. I'm rather proud of this part!
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Not lately [05 May 2004|01:07pm]

zair
[ mood | apathetic ]

I've noticed the lack of posts in this community, not that I'm helping solve that problem. I'm not in a creative mood lately for reading or writing either, but, rest assured, I'll post here when I am.
I hope you all will too...

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Hello! [05 May 2004|10:29am]

eponinechakra
I'm helen, I was in w3 a long time ago but for some reason or another that I can't remember (I suspect it was one of those times my internet got cut off at school,) I left, but I found it again here and since I'm a serious lj addict, I'm going to join back up.

some poetryCollapse )
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Copyrighted 2004 [22 Mar 2004|10:54pm]

kiandra_fire
Her life is on a jet to nowhere
She can only think it isn't fair
But ghosts of dreams whisper
You're almost there. Follow your vesper
Straight to Hesper, let your body sink
Till you disappear in a space of ink
She screams and shrinks as the voices grow
Always tomorrow, she reasons, and then I'll show
The hopes of old that time is left.

But Time has stolen back Its possessions and fled
Jumped the reft, so to speak
Time has people and places to see
And can't waste Itself going nowhere.
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A Patch of Clover [03 Mar 2004|10:26pm]

kiandra_fire
Opinions? Critique?

It is a cloudy day on which the tang of oak leaves mixes with pine straw to nibble at cotton pullovers and knit scarves. From the fourth floor of the library, Samford Hall can be seen across a manicured piece of land and recently paved, neatly painted street. The grass is brown, with patches of bright green clover. Even the azalea bushes seem ill somehow, sporting a faint yellow tinge, but less so than the other carefully-chosen plants. In one of the manicured oases, four trees stand, bushes guarding their trunks. It is mystifying that the bushes could do anything at all; most of their leaves have been stripped, the greener bushes lying along the street where they can be seen more easily and block their sulking kin.

A man hovers on the sidewalk, dressed in an Englishman's cap and tan trench coat. He holds a piece of paper in his hand and waits for some cars to pass before he crosses the street.

All the trees stand tall and gray, four of the five straight, the fifth leaning as if it has dropped a contact lens. Branches wag in the wind though all but one of its limbs save one is devoid of leaves. These are brown, curled inward. They cling to their twigs, shaking like acrophobes.

The man stands, intent on his paper as a girl jogs past, periwinkle earmuffs stuck on firmly, purple shorts giving her otherwise uncovered legs a bit more color. Crystallized air spills from her mouth and nose in dreamy plumes. The man doesn't notice. He checks his paper again, turns to view his surroundings. From the set of his shoulders and his glances in either direction, he is embarrassed. He crosses the street again.

There is only one limb among all five trees that has leaves, as if someone glued them all as a joke and watched the others fall, chuckling over it to himself and telling no one else. The other trees are barren. They hold their chins up high, but their shoulders droop.

The man has crossed the street again. He walks twenty paces this way, twenty paces that. It is a ballet of sorts. He will go along his way, and the dance will be taken elsewhere. The street is empty, save for him, passing this way and that.
1 comment|post comment

Copyrighted material, of course. [22 Feb 2004|06:52pm]

kiandra_fire
Here's something I could use some help with. Opinions, critique, all that good stuff:

The water was still. But thoughts. Thoughts were flying through my head. So many. So quickly. There seemed to be millions of them. Electrifying neurons with the speed of light. But through all the confusion, it formed. It was a list, muddled. Yet at the same time somehow clear. As if it were true. As if its virtue was truth. That made it clear despite the befuddlement. It was a list of people.

My mom.

She had just laughed at me. I had called her from the phone. The only one we could use. Were allowed to use. Stupid YMCA.

"Mom? Come pick me up."

"Why, honey?"

"Nicole and Adrienne are beating me up."

And she had laughed. Laughed. I could still hear her. Her laughter echoing in my head. Laughing like it was amusing. Was it amusing? Truly? I didn't understand. But I wasn't amused.

Nicole had come up behind me. I was paralyzed. Listening to my mother laugh. Mother. I'd never called her that before. The phone sat in my hand. Creeping away from my ear. I couldn't control my muscles. The laughter. The abrasive laughter, shaking my nerves. Nicole had hung up the phone. Mother was still laughing. I looked at Nicole. She looked at me. Gray eyes. The color of- what? I'd- Never thought someone would kill another. Could kill another. Had heard about it. I'd never believed it. And then I'd seen her eyes. And I had believed. And it hadn't surprised me. I had just run. Run away so quickly. Jumped and swam hard. Swam for my life. If I could reach the far side. Before them, anyway, I- But no. Adrienne and Christina walked beside the pool. Watching me and waiting. Ready for me.

No, mom wouldn't miss me. She'd laughed. When I had told her, she'd laughed.

My dad.

Dad? Daddy? He was at work so often. He was a journalist. Did I want to be a journalist? That's what people asked me. All the time. That's what they asked me.

I run down the hallway and bump into someone. I bounce off and look up, rubbing my nose. He was tall by my standards; I don't realize till later that he is actually rather short. He has a round face, good-natured. He was present at my birth. At my birthday parties. But I don't recognize him.

And then something clicks. "Hi, Daddy," I say. And then I move aside and go into my room to get- what is it? I can't remember now. I only remember running into him
and not recognizing him.

I hadn't recognized him then. I hardly saw him now. He loved his job. His job was important. I knew it was important. He had to be responsible.We hardly saw each other. Didn't know each other at all. He wouldn't miss me.

I'd reached the other side. Pulled myself out with arms that shook. For so long, I'd fought. Every time they'd found me. I couldn't stay still too long. They might find me hiding. And I didn't want to be trapped. Not when they found me. Not when they beat me.

Adrienne blocked my way. She was my age. Nine. She was my size. Maybe an inch smaller. We had used to be friends. I didn't understand.

My friends.

What friends? Not in my neighborhood. No, not my neighborhood. Not anymore. I'd moved out. Gotten away. Away from Nicole. Away from Adrienne. Turns out I hadn't. Not that I had friends now. They were all richer than me. They knew it. Kids my own age knew it. They weren't friends. They were so mean.

But the kids at school were worse. So much worse. Never talked to me. Unless they wanted to poke fun. Knew my name only for insults. Oh, the insults. Scathing. Ugly girl. Stupid girl. Reader. Bookworm. Wimp. Wuss. Stupid. And I'd thought it would be different. The friends I'd had. But no. I must have gone wrong somewhere. I must have. Even my friends were mean. The ones who called themselves my friends. Last best friend I had? Jason Kopp. Second grade. Samantha Short before that. Hadn't seen them in years.

No, they won't miss me. They never even liked me.

They won't miss me.

Nicole pulled me back into the pool. My scalp screamed. She'd used my hair. She tightened her grip. Did it every time I squirmed. Stand on her head, she said.

The girl looked at her. The girl was younger than us. I'd never met her before today. Didn't know her name. What?

Stand on her head, Nicole repeated.

I watched the girl's eyes. She glanced at me. Once. Couldn't meet my eyes again. She looked away. She slowly realized this was no game. I could see it in her eyes. She realized what she had done. No, she said.

Do it, Nicole told her. And then I disappeared, pulled under the water.

Opa.

Opa? He can't miss me. He's dead. He died. March. He died in March. Early morning. A heart attack. I knew, too. I had a dream.

I stand on a chair as a young girl. A very young girl. My hair is still soft, curling naturally in large ringlets. I have my hands on the table, fingers curling over the edge as I support myself. I am leaning over the cake, but I can't quite see what is on it except for candles, their light dancing in my hair and warmly illuminating my face.

It's a snapshot of sorts. I don't move. I can't seem to move, but I'm only a spectator and it causes me no pain. Perhaps there is a slight flicker of the candles, but if there is, I fail to notice. All I can see is what is reflected in the glow of the candlelight. My face, my curls, a bit of my dress. It is my right side. Everything else is black. Black as miner's coal, as Chinaman's ink, as an absence that stretches on forever.

The picture starts large. I'd been dreaming of something else, and then everything had goes black as if my dream had been shown in a silver platter and the darkness had oozed up, sliding and thickening until it drowned all else out.

The darkness waits for a few moments. Then with an inaudible slam that today takes the breath from my lungs and interrupts the constant beat from my heart, the picture appears. It hangs there in the darkness, suspended by nothing. It does not waver, the lines do not blur. But slowly it begins moving, as a whole, toward the upper left-hand corner, getting smaller as it goes.

Oh. I see what you're getting at. He's dead. I'm about to be. I could see him again. Yes, I'd like to see him. It's only summer, isn't it? But it seems so much longer.

He won't miss me. I won't miss him. I'll see him soon.

And you know what? Everyone else will die, too. I could see them. All of them. All of us could see each other. It would just take time. That's nice.

I come up for air only once. Nicole pulls me up. I only have time for two gasps. Christina leans against the wall, bored. Adrienne flirts with a lifeguard. Whenever he looks up, she talks again. I can only see the girl's ankles. The second lifeguard looks away. And I'm pulled under again.

Oma.

Oma's dead too, isn't she? I hear she was a lovely lady. I never met her myself. She died a long time ago. Before Mom and Dad started dating. Opa loved her very much, didn't he? Refused to marry afterwards. So romantic. She was a nurse in WWII. She saved lives. Didn't save her own, though. She smoked. She smoked a lot. And then she got cancer. Uncle Andy was only in second grade. I hadn't been born yet. Like I said, I never knew her.

But she knows me, doesn't she? She's watched from heaven. That's what people in heaven do. They watch out for others. People they're related to. Friends they've left. And she watches out for me.

I can meet her, after this. I'll bet she smiles. I can see her smile now. It's pretty. Toothy. She's pretty. Even with tanned and toughened skin. Bet she hugs me.

So I guess I can leave. Those kids were mean anyway. Mom doesn't love me. She wouldn't have laughed otherwise. Dad doesn't either. Or else he'd be around more.

It's awfully peaceful now, isn't it? Calming. I suppose it's because I'm not thinking so much. I don't have to worry anymore. Shedding this life like a snake's skin. Wow, listen to that! You can hear so much! The kids all the way in the shallow end. I passed them when I jumped in. They're playing Marco Polo. I can hear them. "Marco! Marco!" And someone's underwater saying, "Polo! Polo!" How funny. I used to do that.

To my left, someone just dove in off the diving board. The lifeguard who monitored that part of the pool, who Adrienne is flirting with, yelled at me earlier when I tried to dive. I was running and jumping into the pool when I wasn't supposed to be. Didn't think Nicole would be waiting when I came out. It seems so pointless now. Why run? This is nice. See? You can hear the bubbles. They're breaking the surface one by one. Pop pep poppity bip. Everything seems so pointless, like a dream you'll forget when you wake up, only remembering bits and pieces that no longer make sense.

Myself

Hmm?

Something's- Something's happening. My arm moved by itself. Knocked her off my head. But Nicole's still holding my hair. I can't breathe. I'd forgotten. I can't breathe! But now I remember. The burning. The awful burning. I'm desperate for air.

But then my hand is on hers. Wrapping around. It's so wet here. Full of chlorine and slimy. My nail. Her wrist. I think I cut through the skin. I can feel skin under my nail.

Don't come up for air. Swim into the wall and push off. Head for the shallow end.

I swim. My head hits the wall. I bounce off with a thud. I give my head a brief rub. Then I realize my lungs are burning. Burning so badly. Feels as if they'll collapse. Or will they explode? It's hard to tell. I turn and put my feet on the wall. I kick off, swimming. I make it nearly halfway across. I have to come up for air. I'm gasping. Nicole is so close. Right behind me and to the left. She must be an Olympic swimmer. I swim on my back, still gasping. Not going fast enough. I turn over. I swim underwater. I make better time.

I reach the shallow end. We interrupt the game of Marco Polo. I'm apologizing for it. I'll never forget the game that day. And they'll never realize it. Today they probably only remember me. If they remember me at all. And they think, "Rude girl!" They'll never know.

There's still chasing to be done. The worst, though, is over. I feel triumphant. I should have died. No, I could have. But for some reason I didn't. Why? Why not?

Maybe, just maybe . . .
3 comments|post comment

The most recent segment of an AIM RPing session with Eve [11 Feb 2004|11:14am]

zair
[ mood | anxious ]

Zair773 (8:04:43 PM):
Keman decided to try the wine first, and did so, raising his glass roofwards and nodding, then taking a sip.
Evil Lifegiver (8:05:45 PM):
The twins each took verry small sips of their wine, each time merely to wash their palates. Mostly they stuck to the tea, though.
Zair773 (8:08:03 PM):
Soon after, Keman dug into his meal, and ate with zest.
Tobias followed his example.
Evil Lifegiver (8:10:52 PM):
Ryan and Verala were slower in following their examples, but eventually they did get through their meals, leaving just enough behind as they deemed polite. Afterwards, Ryan stood. "If you don't mind, sir, Tobias, I think I'm ready for bed now."
"Oh, yes," Verala said. "I'm ready as well. I suppose the road was more tiring today than I'd thought."
Zair773 (8:14:01 PM):
"Yes, yes, of course, Tobias would you show them to their rooms." Keman recited politely.
Tobias nodded, "It is actually later than it seems," He pointed out a window, dark with dusk. He got up and motioned for them to follow him through the hall that lead to his own room, anticipating the additional quarters Alara had created a short while ago.
Evil Lifegiver (8:15:40 PM):
They followed. At the door to her room, Verala kissed him on the cheek quickly. "Good night, Tobias," she said before breaking off into a large yawn and disappearing inside.
Ryan scratched his head. "Don't expect the same treatment from me," he said dryly.
Zair773 (8:17:38 PM):
"Uh.." Was all Tobias could muster from his mouth, and left them at their room, which was separated by a thin wall in the middle for privacy, a bed on each side.
Evil Lifegiver (8:18:10 PM):
Ryan grinned, shook his head, and went in.
Zair773 (8:21:53 PM):
Attempting to ignore what just happened, Tobias returned to his master.
"I appreciate you acquiring the Lyre Tobias, the silver-inked pens were a good choice for your first independant project." Alara/Keman commented him, now back to herself, "But I have yet to see the purpose that you acquired the two tag-alongs for." She added.
"It wasn't intentional.." Tobias began.
"That much is obvious." Alara sighed, thankful Tobias had drugged the siblings. They were obviously alive with magic, and he had given them a sufficiently powerful dose of the stuff.
Zair773 (8:24:15 PM):
Tobias sighed, "The girl, Verala, was in need of help, since her brother was captured when I met her. And i was in the position to assist her, as I saw the bandits beforehand.."
He continues to explain their little journey..
"I see." Alara nods when he finishes, "But I don't like them going along with you for no reason other than they have nothing better to do." Alara informed him.
Zair773 (8:28:48 PM):
Tobias nodded, "It is strange, but they've run away, and have no clue what they're doing."
Alara nodded, "Then, on Keoke's other tail, it might be good for you." Alara started, having an idea, "Find some way for them to assist you on the next quest, that is your additional challenge."
"Yes, master Alara." Tobias bowed his head respectfully.
"You already know what your next destination is?" Alara asked.
"The bowstring of Faramin's bow, at the hunter god's temple in Hartlend." Tobias nodded. (makes up random names, whilst taking others from books)
Zair773 (8:30:27 PM):
"Good, finish the chores, then retire for the night." Alara ordered told him.
Tobias nodded, then did as he was told.
Evil Lifegiver (8:37:18 PM):
Ryan was the first of the twins to wake the next morning. Looking around, he noticed that it was almost mid-morning. He leaned around the sheet that separated their beds and looked at Verala; she hadn't even gotten her shoes off before collapsing.
He frowned and sat on the edge of the bed. Drugged. That was the only explanation. They shouldn't have been so tired. And there was only one person who could have drugged them. But why?

15 comments|post comment

A story I've been working on... [08 Feb 2004|12:08am]

jayiin
[ mood | contemplative ]

This is just a scene that I wrote awhile back and have been tweaking every since...let me know what you think!

Thanks!






PSIGIRL
BY

ALAN M ROGERS


Footsteps scuffed across the rough stone, marring the tranquility of the small glade. The kneeling girl sighed, and closed her eyes.

Why don't they ever leave me alone?

The footsteps came closer and closer, each sound echoing in Shay's ears, artificial leather scraping over artificial rock painted in marble patterns to fool the human eye. She knew the boots weren't real leather anymore than the path was real stone, or her own clothes were real satin - very little in her world was real. It was a world of synthetics manufactured through the miracles of modern chemistry, raw material processed, broken down and re-constituted into the same molecular structure of whatever someone wanted it to be.


Too bad they can't do the same to me.

Her eyes opened again, knowing the other woman was seconds away, and would, as always, interrupt her with questions and curiosity, wanting to know what she was thinking and why.

What am I to them anymore but a simple curiosity? A fluke, a freak that proves their precious theories wrong?

Shay stared into the calm pool, watching the clear water sit, imperceptibly moving. She breathed in slowly, inhaling the fragrance of soil and plants and nearly-fresh air that reminded her of the barrage of scents she could almost remember from her childhood.

She knew she could perceive the water moving if she wanted to - as easily as the woman walking up could see her, kneeling there in the rock garden, staring at the water, watching the ripples play over the marbled bottom of the pool.

"I knew I would find you here."

Shay resisted the urge to sigh. Without looking back, without moving anything but her mouth, the girl answered.

"Everyone does."


Alexis sat down on the wooden bench behind her, put there for the purpose of watching the pool and the rock garden. Shay had outgrown the bench a long time ago; she felt the need to be closer to the pool, closer enough to smell the water, to feel the artificial sand underneath her bare feet. To taste the air, so different so close to the mirage of earth and water.

"Don't you ever get tired of sitting there, staring at water move?"

Don't you ever get tired of poking and prodding me?

"No."

The scientist breathed out slowly, gathering her patience and bracing herself for the unavoidable discussion. It had been more than a decade since Shay had volunteered information, or made it easy for Alexis to learn anything useful from simple questions. Breathing exercises had become a must for the good doctor - there were some who claimed she was approaching sainthood with the patience she had shown Shay.

"What do you see when you look there, Shay?"

The girl shrugged. It was strange; it had been five years since Alexis had asked her a question Shay wanted to answer, but now that she had, Shay had no idea how to answer.

"Nothing. Everything. Connections and confusion. Questions - but only one that makes any real sense."

Alexis slid off the bench to kneel next to Shay, her once-brown hair hanging lank around her face.

"What question is that?"

Shay reached down next to her and picked up a pebble from the center of the ripples in the sand the gardeners had painstakingly created.

"What the difference between this," Shay tossed the rock into the pool, watching it break the surface of the water with a soft splash, sinking to touch the bottom with an inaudible sound that Shay could feel, ripples spreading outward from the point of impact, causing the tiny waves to lap at the edges of the rock garden "and this?"

Shay stared at the water, and the air seemed to shudder just outside of sight or sensation.

The water rippled just as if another stone had been thrown as Shay's mind reached out and touched the water, a tiny ball of telekinesis being tossed in much the same as the stone.

"Why does that matter, Shay?"

Alexis cocked her head, curious and strangely innocent blue eyes staring at the girl who had been her charge for fourteen years with sincere interest.

"Because it's the same difference that's between me and humans. Any human can toss a rock. I can toss air."

Alexis nodded slowly. "I can see that. But I don't understand what you mean. The difference between you and humans?"

Shay smiled bitterly; it was a cold, razor-sharp expression that came from the irony of that question that her keeper wouldn't dare allow herself to see.

"I've been...different since I was seven. I don't think I'm human anymore."

Even if I was, it wouldn't matter, because I lost my humanity when you trapped me here, floating in space, where you could study and test me and hide me away from everyone just in case I don't fit in the world the normal people want to build.

Shay stared up at the clear dome pretending to be the sky and watched the stars burn cold and bright, unblinking and un-twinkling. Within hours, the station would face the sun again, and the glass would polarize with each varying degree of light in a reasonable façade of a terrestrial sky, adding to the masquerade of home that the previous government had spent billions of taxpayer credits on.

"So what did you find?"

Alexis dusted off her white lab pants and sighed. "You were right. All your readings are changing again, but I can't pinpoint why."

Shay's smile changed to one of wry amusement. "I'm not sure if you're excited or upset."

Alexis shrugged. "A little of both, I suppose. This development proves my theories about you wrong, but it also proves that whatever happened to cause you to manifest the abilities you do isn't random - at least in that it follows patterns."

Shay bit her lower lip. "You know, Alexis, I'm not all that unusual."

"Oh, really?" Alexis leaned down to hear her subject a little better. This was the first time Shay had ventured a comment about her condition that was remotely positive - or possibly constructive.

"Clerics of all creeds and callings scour the universe over for people with abilities like mine - only that science claims the people they find are nothing but fakes: hysterics, delusional psychotics, and raving lunatic fringe fanatics. And yet, here I am. I exist. I exhibit all the same signs and symptoms clerics and mystics look for...and you say nothing, except that I shouldn't exist."

"I would have hoped," Alexis rose with a disappointed sigh, "that with everything you've seen here and learned from me, you would know better than to put your faith in mysticism."

Shrugging, the girl ducked her head and ran her fingertips through the water, marveling at the chill it sent up her arm. "I find it odd. Those mystics seem to have the answers your science can't provide."

"And are answers the point?" Alexis asked softly.

Shay stood, shaking her head. "Not for you. For you, the search and what you learn from it are as important as the answers you might find." She met Alexis' eyes. "But for me, those answers will tell me who and what I am and who and what I'm going to be…and those answers might force you to give me my life back."

Alexis steeled herself - this was an all too familiar conversation, even if Shay's tactic was new.

"The sooner you come back with me to the lab, the sooner we can find your answers."

"Right. I should have known the lab was the only place this would lead."

The doctor sighed. "Shay, I am a scientist. I use logic and reason to analyze data and draw conclusions - conclusions that just might be those answers you are so desperate for. But without data - data only gathered in my lab - I can't."

The younger girl's haunted eyes looked washed out and hollow. "And what shall you do to me today? Which machines will invade me and leave me feeling cold and violated?"

Drawing on every shred of patience and self-control she had, Alexis massaged the bridge of her nose.

"Please don't make me force you."

Shay smiled coldly as the thin veneer of friendship was stripped away. She was property, not a person, and they both knew it.

"The only way you'll get me in there is if you force me, doctor."

Alexis turned away, unable to meet Shay's eyes. She gestured to two armed and uniformed men waiting by the door to the arboretum.

"Please take Shay to the lab."

Nodding grimly, the guard stepped towards the girl. She turned and watched as they reached out for her.

The younger of the two, recently assigned to the station blanched under her cool regard. His hand clasped around her upper arm, his grip gentle, but firm.

"Please come with us."

Shay smiled slightly and dipped into a mock-curtsy. "Of course. I'm impressed, guardsman, that you bother with such courtesy. Soon enough you'll learn my place."

The other guard - an older man who had been assigned to the station before Shay had even arrived -- snorted, and grabbed her roughly by the back of her neck.

"Come on, girl. I got no time for your games today."

The younger man looked pained as his partner hauled her towards the door.

"I'm sorry." He mouthed the words and hung his head. Shay only looked up at Alexis and smiled.

How many more are you going to break in the name of science?


The End

Alan M Rogers
© 2004






[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<a [...] rogers</a>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

This is just a scene that I wrote awhile back and have been tweaking every since...let me know what you think!

Thanks!

<hr>
<div align="center">
<table border="0" width="100%" cellspacing="5" cellpadding="5" style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: 10pt; color:#000000" link="#000000" vlink="#808080" alink="#C0C0C0" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" id="psigirl">

<tr>
<td bgcolor="#C0C0C0">
<center>
<B>PSIGIRL
BY
<a style="text-decoration: none; color: #000000" href="mailto:masterofwords@sbcglobal.net">
ALAN M ROGERS</A></B></center>
</td>
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<td>
Footsteps scuffed across the rough stone, marring the tranquility of the small glade. The kneeling girl sighed, and closed her eyes.

<I>Why don't they ever leave me alone?</I>

The footsteps came closer and closer, each sound echoing in Shay's ears, artificial leather scraping over artificial rock painted in marble patterns to fool the human eye. She knew the boots weren't real leather anymore than the path was real stone, or her own clothes were real satin - very little in her world was real. It was a world of synthetics manufactured through the miracles of modern chemistry, raw material processed, broken down and re-constituted into the same molecular structure of whatever someone wanted it to be.


<I>Too bad they can't do the same to me.</I>

Her eyes opened again, knowing the other woman was seconds away, and would, as always, interrupt her with questions and curiosity, wanting to know what she was thinking and why.

<I>What am I to them anymore but a simple curiosity? A fluke, a freak that proves their precious theories wrong?</I>

Shay stared into the calm pool, watching the clear water sit, imperceptibly moving. She breathed in slowly, inhaling the fragrance of soil and plants and nearly-fresh air that reminded her of the barrage of scents she could almost remember from her childhood.

She knew she could perceive the water moving if she wanted to - as easily as the woman walking up could see her, kneeling there in the rock garden, staring at the water, watching the ripples play over the marbled bottom of the pool.

"I knew I would find you here."

Shay resisted the urge to sigh. Without looking back, without moving anything but her mouth, the girl answered.

"Everyone does."


Alexis sat down on the wooden bench behind her, put there for the purpose of watching the pool and the rock garden. Shay had outgrown the bench a long time ago; she felt the need to be closer to the pool, closer enough to smell the water, to feel the artificial sand underneath her bare feet. To taste the air, so different so close to the mirage of earth and water.

"Don't you ever get tired of sitting there, staring at water move?"

<I>Don't you ever get tired of poking and prodding me?</I>

"No."

The scientist breathed out slowly, gathering her patience and bracing herself for the unavoidable discussion. It had been more than a decade since Shay had volunteered information, or made it easy for Alexis to learn anything useful from simple questions. Breathing exercises had become a must for the good doctor - there were some who claimed she was approaching sainthood with the patience she had shown Shay.

"What do you see when you look there, Shay?"

The girl shrugged. It was strange; it had been five years since Alexis had asked her a question Shay wanted to answer, but now that she had, Shay had no idea how to answer.

"Nothing. Everything. Connections and confusion. Questions - but only one that makes any real sense."

Alexis slid off the bench to kneel next to Shay, her once-brown hair hanging lank around her face.

"What question is that?"

Shay reached down next to her and picked up a pebble from the center of the ripples in the sand the gardeners had painstakingly created.

"What the difference between this," Shay tossed the rock into the pool, watching it break the surface of the water with a soft splash, sinking to touch the bottom with an inaudible sound that Shay could feel, ripples spreading outward from the point of impact, causing the tiny waves to lap at the edges of the rock garden "and this?"

Shay stared at the water, and the air seemed to shudder just outside of sight or sensation.

The water rippled just as if another stone had been thrown as Shay's mind reached out and touched the water, a tiny ball of telekinesis being tossed in much the same as the stone.

"Why does that matter, Shay?"

Alexis cocked her head, curious and strangely innocent blue eyes staring at the girl who had been her charge for fourteen years with sincere interest.

"Because it's the same difference that's between me and humans. Any human can toss a rock. I can toss air."

Alexis nodded slowly. "I can see that. But I don't understand what you mean. The difference between you and humans?"

Shay smiled bitterly; it was a cold, razor-sharp expression that came from the irony of that question that her keeper wouldn't dare allow herself to see.

"I've been...different since I was seven. I don't think I'm human anymore."

Even if I was, it wouldn't matter, because I lost my humanity when you trapped me here, floating in space, where you could study and test me and hide me away from everyone just in case I don't fit in the world the normal people want to build.

Shay stared up at the clear dome pretending to be the sky and watched the stars burn cold and bright, unblinking and un-twinkling. Within hours, the station would face the sun again, and the glass would polarize with each varying degree of light in a reasonable façade of a terrestrial sky, adding to the masquerade of home that the previous government had spent billions of taxpayer credits on.

"So what did you find?"

Alexis dusted off her white lab pants and sighed. "You were right. All your readings are changing again, but I can't pinpoint why."

Shay's smile changed to one of wry amusement. "I'm not sure if you're excited or upset."

Alexis shrugged. "A little of both, I suppose. This development proves my theories about you wrong, but it also proves that whatever happened to cause you to manifest the abilities you do isn't random - at least in that it follows patterns."

Shay bit her lower lip. "You know, Alexis, I'm not all that unusual."

"Oh, really?" Alexis leaned down to hear her subject a little better. This was the first time Shay had ventured a comment about her condition that was remotely positive - or possibly constructive.

"Clerics of all creeds and callings scour the universe over for people with abilities like mine - only that science claims the people they find are nothing but fakes: hysterics, delusional psychotics, and raving lunatic fringe fanatics. And yet, here I am. I exist. I exhibit all the same signs and symptoms clerics and mystics look for...and you say nothing, except that I shouldn't exist."

"I would have hoped," Alexis rose with a disappointed sigh, "that with everything you've seen here and learned from me, you would know better than to put your faith in mysticism."

Shrugging, the girl ducked her head and ran her fingertips through the water, marveling at the chill it sent up her arm. "I find it odd. Those mystics seem to have the answers your science can't provide."

"And are answers the point?" Alexis asked softly.

Shay stood, shaking her head. "Not for you. For you, the search and what you learn from it are as important as the answers you might find." She met Alexis' eyes. "But for me, those answers will tell me who and what I am and who and what I'm going to be…and those answers might force you to give me my life back."

Alexis steeled herself - this was an all too familiar conversation, even if Shay's tactic was new.

"The sooner you come back with me to the lab, the sooner we can find your answers."

"Right. I should have known the lab was the only place this would lead."

The doctor sighed. "Shay, I am a scientist. I use logic and reason to analyze data and draw conclusions - conclusions that just might be those answers you are so desperate for. But without data - data only gathered in my lab - I can't."

The younger girl's haunted eyes looked washed out and hollow. "And what shall you do to me today? Which machines will invade me and leave me feeling cold and violated?"

Drawing on every shred of patience and self-control she had, Alexis massaged the bridge of her nose.

"Please don't make me force you."

Shay smiled coldly as the thin veneer of friendship was stripped away. She was property, not a person, and they both knew it.

"The only way you'll get me in there is if you force me, doctor."

Alexis turned away, unable to meet Shay's eyes. She gestured to two armed and uniformed men waiting by the door to the arboretum.

"Please take Shay to the lab."

Nodding grimly, the guard stepped towards the girl. She turned and watched as they reached out for her.

The younger of the two, recently assigned to the station blanched under her cool regard. His hand clasped around her upper arm, his grip gentle, but firm.

"Please come with us."

Shay smiled slightly and dipped into a mock-curtsy. "Of course. I'm impressed, guardsman, that you bother with such courtesy. Soon enough you'll learn my place."

The other guard - an older man who had been assigned to the station before Shay had even arrived -- snorted, and grabbed her roughly by the back of her neck.

"Come on, girl. I got no time for your games today."

The younger man looked pained as his partner hauled her towards the door.

"I'm sorry." He mouthed the words and hung his head. Shay only looked up at Alexis and smiled.

<I>How many more are you going to break in the name of science?</I>
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The End
<a style="text-decoration: none; color: #000000" href="mailto:masterofwords@sbcglobal.net">
Alan M Rogers</A>© 2004
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