Fun with Reader Rabbit (original) (raw)

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Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded inRead This' LiveJournal:

Friday, June 9th, 2006
_2:40 am_[xell]	Luna Rising (Chapter 1: Cont) ** ~ * ~ **The second dream was every bit as stunning and bizarre as the first, although it was tinged with an element of realism. Much like the dream had plagued her during waking hours, so now were her dreams littered with the former day’s backlash. She stood on the grounds of the school with her best friend, chattering with words that were too insignificant to recall. The sky thundered in the distance, though she knew it had no danger of reaching them. No other people were around, yet they carried on as if it were just another day. Then, Anna turned to her, looking troubled. Her words were mere whispers, that seemed to carry gracefully on the illusionary air, “Can I tell you a secret?”“Of course. Anything.” Lynn nodded, wondering what she could possibly uncover from a person she had been so close to for two years. Anna smiled, her expression now that of relief. Closing her eyes, bits of sand began to pour from her fingertips, and her hands soon turned to dust as well. The disintegration climbed her arms and delved into her torso, until her entire being collapsed into a heap of dry dirt. Lynn stared in shock as she recoiled, and panic gripped her heart. Before she could think to act, snaking vines climbed from the surreal ground beneath her, wrapping around her frame and escalating until they grew to her neck. Again, the plants were consuming her, but this time she resisted – struggling and kicking against their will. Yet they persisted, numbering more and more with each passing moment. Just as they began to stretch across her face, she made a final gasp for air before they entered her mouth. With that gasp she woke once more, surrounded by the modern day comforts of her room. She was breathing heavily as she looked around, her heart beating faster than it ever had before. ‘Another dream…’ her mind was numb, but the thought dwindled. It was not simply a dream, but another dream, much the same as the one before it. Grumbling, she climbed out of bed, thinking first of school, only to remember that it was Saturday. ‘I have to tell Anna. This is just too weird.’As soon as the hour was decent, she gave her best friend a call, trying to sound natural. “Hey, Anna? What are you doing tonight?”“Nothing much here. Why?” “I was wondering if you wanted to stay over… It’s okay if not, but…” Lynn trailed, deciding against the addition of ‘I’ve been having strange dreams and I want to talk to you about it.’“Cool. I’ll be over later, around five-ish, okay?” Anna knew that Lynn was not big on phone conversation, so she kept it short. “Alright, see you then.” “See you.” A click, and Lynn listened to the blank tone of the phone. She was thinking of her dream, and of the things she should mention to Anna later – if she should mention anything at all. Only the blaring series of beeps that often occurred when phones were left off the hook could bring her out of the thoughtful trance, and that it did. Hanging up at last, she patiently waited, sorting out what to say. Current Mood: tired (Comment on this)
Monday, June 5th, 2006
_10:39 am_[xell]	PrologueThe attendant’s eyes were remorseful as she surveyed the scene – witnessing their beloved leader’s descent. Four other women lowered the violet-haired Chosen, the levers they used making no noise. The casket that contained her was mostly of glass, though it was the strongest made in all the universe. Within that container, the sagely woman slept, just as any mortal would. Her powers were sealed, as was her presence within the cosmos, and here she would be safe. “Rest in peace, Luna.” The eldest amongst the attendants spoke, swallowing her tears. How had it come to this? Why had their leader agreed to such confinement? The war was over, and all had assumed that their leader would continue to guide them. The stars spoke to this Chosen, whispering the future, and telling the sorrows of the past. ‘Perhaps’, thought the attendant, ‘We were too reliant on her abilities…’ A second woman approached the eldest, her features as striking as her voice, “Well, I guess we’ll all be going home, if that’s that.” She even gave a short laugh, shaking her head, “Don’t worry, she’s not dead. Just sleeping. If anything bad happens, we will all meet here, again.” With some nostalgia, the striking brunette turned her eyes to their leader, Luna. “I’ll see you later. You did well. We all did.” With a foreign salute, she turned, signaling to her companions, “Let’s go back. I think Luna has the right idea with what she’s doing. We’ve all earned a break.” A unanimous nod, and they all departed, intending to return to their respective homes. As the brunette turned, the attendant called after her, “Wait!”Stopping, she grinned, “Yes?”“If you all sleep, how will we wake you, if another conflict starts?” Worry slipped into her voice, her hands clutching into a fist. “We’ll know. We knew this time, didn’t we? You survived without us once, and you can do so again.” Despite her words, her voice was not cold, but reassuring. Another nod, and she departed, her footsteps echoing back into the chamber, even as her visage disappeared. Weeping could be heard in the background, for their leader was loved, and would be missed. Many doubted they would live to see the day of her reawakening, and only the most selfish would wish for another Great Crisis before then. -------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter 1: A Lone AntThe young girl stared at her adversary, measuring up the gargantuan beast. It stood one house tall, and was covered in a dark, violet fur. Massive claws curled beneath paw-like feet, and as it snarled, she could see two rows of pointed teeth. Its red eyes stared at the girl, growling as it lashed its fire-tipped tail in the backdrop. Muscles rippled as it swiped at the youth, giving a defiant roar as she sidestepped. She did not remember how she had gotten into this mess, or why she was wearing such strange clothing. Metallic green armor glimmered in the untraceable source of light, though it was mostly made of simple leather. Truth be told, it showed a bit too much of her legs and arms to be considered anything near practical, but these omissions left her nimble. Had the situation been any different, she would have surely felt embarrassed to be caught in such clothing, but the fight was distracting her from such minute thoughts. Lynn was the sort that usually wore clothing that left most things to the imagination, although there was nothing particularly wrong with her appearance. Her frame was more slender than curvaceous, but even that was considered attractive by most boys her age. Her facial features were chiseled-looking, but it was consistent with the rest of her build. In the midst of that defined face was the gaze of two bright green eyes, gorgeous in their natural vividness. Crowning said eyes was a short mess of dirty-blonde hair, the likes of which held a strange, yet subtle, highlight of dull green. When she was little, she was often made fun of for her differences in appearance, but as she grew older, opinions began to change. Around Middle School, people began to think her looks interesting, and the bullying stopped, for the most part. Even still, she resented her differences, wishing she could look normal – like one of the popular girls, who always got the guy, and always made the grade.That world was quite different from what she was experiencing now, in this sensation that felt so real. The air was a bit dusty, even if no palpable ground could be seen. She could feel the distant heat from the monster’s tail, and smell its foul breath as it snorted in her direction. Having no weapon to defend herself, she could only continue to dodge its attacks, hoping that something extraordinary would come to save her. She closed her eyes and wished for something – anything – to spurn her from this repetition of attack and dodge. A stir pulsed through her heart, and her eyes gazed wide, as her hopes were answered. With a hurried rustle, vines emerged from the figurative ground, pulling her into a crosshatch of freshly-sprouted leaves, away from the beast. She could not even allow a yelp before her head was submerged, and her body stiffened.Then, her eyes opened. Dazedly, she looked around her room, viewing it with delayed skepticism. This was an odd thing to do, since the world of her dream was a far more foreign thing, even if it felt astoundingly real. Sighing, she ran a boney hand through her hair, sending the inch-long strands every which way. Throwing off her blankets, she sat up, placing her feet to the carpeted floor. All of her posters and décor slowly seemed less and less surreal. Shaking her head, she looked to the Waterhouse print that hung beside her bed, wondering at the maiden within the image. She looked so simple – nothing like Lynn – and seemed so content. The dream was fading, and she smiled, commenting to the air, “Why can’t I be look like you?”The teen crossed her small bedroom, opening her plain armoire and pulling out clothes for the day. High school did not start for another two hours, and the sun had not even fully emerged. She thought to finish up her Extra Credit before her first class, but dismissed the idea, since her grades were mainly above average. Rather, she stepped downstairs, the stairway merging into what quickly became her kitchen. Rustling through the fridge, she sleepily wondered if this was how raccoons felt when they foraged for food in the night. Chuckling, she retrieved a cup of pudding, and began her very unhealthy breakfast without much thought. She looked out the kitchen window as she ate, watching the sway of the leaves, dipping just beneath the top of the frame. It was calming, and it reminded her of just how much she would prefer to spend the rest of the day in bed. The leaves seemed to dip lower and lower as she stared. One brow shot up as their image seemed to blur, the leaves of the common oak stretching and winding. It spiraled downward, soon fluffing into the soft branches of a weeping willow. Dropping her spoon, she shook her head, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Yet when she looked again, all was normal, and there was no breeze. ‘I must be really tired… I wonder if I’m coming down with something?’ she thought. Getting ready for school was a mechanical process by now, and the time came to depart before she even realized it. She caught the bus, as usual, and met up with her best friend, Anna, upon her arrival. With a tired wave, she half-yawned as she spoke, “Hey, Anna.” “Hey, yourself. What’s up? Did you not sleep well last night?” Her friend of two years asked, grinning. “Were you studying, or passing your time doing something worthwhile?” For as long as she’d known her, Anna was the sort that never studied, but always got good grades. Lynn feared the day that her best friend applied herself to her schoolwork, for she would surely be left in her dust. “Some nightmare woke me up early.” She mumbled in response, shaking her head, switching the subject in the next breath. Their chatter was never about anything in particular, but something about the reel of the conversation seemed to click between them. They genuinely enjoyed each others’ company for, most of the time, it felt as though it were them against the world. While most girls chattered about the latest CD, or gasped about the latest controversial movie, they were debating philosophy. Certainly, Lynn was often teased about her boy trouble by her best friend, but such was always in good fun. Despite their connection, they had only been friends for a year, but had grown close quickly. Just as one of her oldest and dearest of friends moved, Anna swept in to fill Lynn’s lonesome void. Since that first day she approached, Lynn was grateful, and happy to have such a dedicated, steadfast comrade. The day passed – classes happened, and so did recess and lunch. The entire day, Lynn considered her dream, and the strange fatigue-hallucination of the early morning. Yet she said nothing to her best friend, knowing that it would only be laughed off, or written away as some freak coincidence. The best she could hope for was Anna thinking that she was crazy, because then she would at least believe it was as realistic as it had felt. Lynn was sure that everyone had such vivid dreams, and the off days that often followed said escapades. Another night and all would be reset. Night came, and she ate dinner late with her parents, just like each other evening. They always worked until at least nine o’clock, and she simply did not see or speak with them as much these days. Not that it bothered her – as a teen, she liked her space. She politely dismissed herself from the small kitchen table, walking back upstairs to do her homework and return to bed. --------------------------------------Comments: Then another trippy/different dream happens, I think. I'm wondering if that first chapter was too plain, but I wasn't sure about throwing the main character upside down RIGHT off the bat. I thought maybe the intro would be too "quick" if I did that, without enough leading up to it. I hoped to make it a gradual progression over a few days, or weeks, but I'm afraid it will lack the luster it needs to keep a reader's attention. Comments? Suggestions? (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, May 26th, 2006
_5:32 pm_[xell]	Some ideas. I've been thinking about dedicating myself to a project lately, not just in passing. A real project that I will force myself to work on at least once a week, and eventually finish. Which of these ideas sounds most interesting to YOU?Doujinshi Ideas"Land of Goofy Hats": Based in the world of Final Fantasy Tactics, starring the nameless job classes, as they trek around the world of Ivalice. This group was almost chosen to start the chain of events that would eventually start the plot of the actual game, but the two beginning characters (a knight and his squire) were caught in chocobo traffic, and could not make the mission briefing in time. Thus, the Man Who Looks Vaguely Female was chosen, much to their chagrin. But don't worry, they decide to set out on their own quest, picking up all the wrong clues, as well as many other "adventurers". In the end, they do end up saving the world... Or maybe they just end up saving a kitten."The Stones of Man": This one takes place in the world of Fire Emblem: Sacred Stones, starring the cannon cast of the game. I'm half-tempted to make this one into a ridiculous fan-sattire, going completely over-the-top with the same dumb cliches you've seen a million times before. Only this time, it will be more of a "point and laugh" ordeal rather than a "ZOMG feed the fangirl masses!" thing. I can so make Neimi a half-demon-unicorn-vampire princess.Manga Ideas1. A romantic comedy/adventure story starring the interaction of seven Shrine Maidens (and one Illusionist thief). It mainly focuses on the ditz otherwise known as the "Shrine Maiden of Light", who happens to possess the Book of All Universal Knowledge Regarding the Past, Present, and Future. Having access to this treasure is a large responsibility, for she can rewrite or look into any future event, and it is her job to keep track of everything that has ever happened. Her main nemesis is the least important shrine maiden, the "Shrine Maiden of Nature", who is quite spiteful and greedy. Coincidentally, the Maiden of Nature is also the closest of them all to humankind. There are pirates. Eventually, the Maidens will have a much greater threat to worry about than each other. Story Ideas1. The Bloodbringer: A story I've already started and submitted to this community. Basically, it's about a "berserker" who raises a rebellion against an oppressive government. At first, his only companion is a simple girl named Maria, who bitterly hates him at first for *spoiler*spoiler*spoiler*, and an Alchemist. Alchemists, by nature, are fishy business, due to the fact that they inhale so many chemicals, they are all said to be insane in one way or another. Also, the super-controlling government has a knack for killing or recruiting said "mages", so... How did they manage to so easily find one to fall in on their side, who has evaded the law for so long? Well, that ties into his/her connections with one of the three Great Armies that the President (Duke?) uses to control the masses. The main three characters must endure many hardships along their path, although the story is mainly Man Vs. Government. This all came from a dream I once had.2. Luna Risen: A normal girl from Earth finds herself caught up in universal destiny. There had always been strange things about her, but her True Self is unlocked after several confrontations with another girl - one from another world. As it turns out, she is Earth's representative in a great Council of the Planets, and she must now fill her role. A parallel dimension to this universe is threatening to conquer and consume this one, and she must band together with her fellow "Councelors" (Until I think of a better name) to bring and end to it. This is a revision of a story I wrote back in Seventh Grade. And yes, the special chicks all have outstanding powers - "magic" of various forms, and specialized weaknesses. I will also be tying in the Western Zodiac to this story, which will take some research, but should put a more interesting twist on it overall. 3. Er... people keep saying I should finish my Aeternus story... But I think my writing style has depleted since then. Still, if enough people back it, I may very well study my past writing style and push it to the finish. In a nutshell, there is an alternate world called Aeternus (copywrite to five individuals, one of which is me), that is generated by crazy people in a local asylum. Anyone with derangements within this little hamlet called Whitehurst gets sucked into this horrible alternate reality. Main character is a mousey-haired boy named Nigel, who can only escape his house (and his deranged Aunt) by wandering the world of Aeternus. Eventually he'll figure out what makes the alternate world, and put a stop to it. Warning: The ending may be depressing. Current Mood: exhausted (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 25th, 2006
_11:13 pm_[xell]	The Bloodbringer - Chapter 1 (cont.) Without a word, her aunt responded, latching the back of the girl’s dress with dexterous hands. She had always been there to care for the girl, feeling somewhat obligated due to her parents’ absence. Not that it was anyone’s fault that the Union had decided to ship them to the city. Maria still remembered the day they left – waving to them as they looked over their shoulders from the carriage. Her mother’s eyes were tearful, but she was not allowed to cry. Her father stood with a stoic hand on her mother’s shoulder, nodding solemnly to their only child. It was their responsibility as citizens of the Union to go where they were needed, and they were not to make a scene over it. After all, such would give their impressionable child the wrong idea about their government. It was the Union who assigned such well-paying jobs to her parents in the first place, and the Union could just as easily take everything away. “How long before they leave? They always leave at noon, don’t they?” Her brows furrowed as she strained to see the position of the sun, slightly panicked. “You still have an hour, Child, but I’m sure Gerrard would like to speak to you before he leaves. But don’t worry; he’ll be back in three days or so. This is his first time out, but it most certainly won’t be his last. And just imagine – if he does well, he may even be Engraved as a Marksman, not just a Hunter! That would be nice, him being able to do more than one job. He is fairly handy with a bow. Why, when your Uncle was alive, he was Engraved as a Ranger. He worked so many different jobs, back in the day.” “Doesn’t it seem like a strange pairing to be arranged, Auntie - A Hunter and a Seamstress?” She looked at the band she wore, the faded print of ‘Seamstress’ staring back at her. “No more strange than a Ranger and a Cook.” She chuckled, setting her hand to the younger girl’s shoulder. Maria glanced to the Engraving around her Aunt’s wrist, the brand never changing over the years. She smiled to herself, feeling the warmth of her guardian’s reassurance. Before long, she was ready to step out into the late morning sunshine. A stiff, woven hat was the last accessory added before she walked down the stairs and out the front door. Once outside, she took in the fresh air – just as she did nearly every other day. She was thankful for what she had, whether it was given to her by the Union, or by nature, itself. Her very spirit seemed grateful, even though she had been raised under such values as well. She cut across the village, half-sprinting toward Gerrard’s home, her slippers kicking up dust as she went. Somewhat exhausted, she inhaled deeply before knocking on his front door. His younger brother was the one who greeted her, “Oh, hello, Maria! Looking for my brother, or have you decided to go against your Arrangement and court the smarter of us two?” “Don’t joke about that, Marco. Flirting or no, it’s… not safe to talk like that.” Not that she could ever stop the younger from his fun. “I’m looking for Gerrard, of course.”“Yeah, yeah… What, is the Crimson Army going to come storming in because they found out I tried to seduce you?” Despite his words, he was already leading her into the house. One could easily tell that the brothers lived alone, largely due to the stacks of clothing and dishes scattered about. Nothing looked like it had been thoroughly washed or cleaned in months, and even the organized things were haphazardly hung from the ceiling rather than put away. Shoving some clutter out of the way with his foot, he knocked on a plain, wooden door. “Gerrard, grandma’s here to wish you safe travels.”With a sudden swing, the door was thrown open, and the handsome youth known as Gerrard looked ready to scold his brother for another of his taboo sayings. Upon seeing Maria, however, he switched his focus. “Oh… Hello.” His scolding face soon melted into one of shy courtesy. “I’m glad you came. Here, look at this.”---------------------------------------------------I'm trying oh-so-hard to sketch the sort of role the government plays in this world without smacking people over the head with it. I think I need to go back through it and add more details, although I'm not sure where I should. Comments/Suggestions/Criticism welcome! Current Mood: good (Comment on this)
_10:24 pm_[neonodie]	A Little Hope in the Prison It's a little depressing, with a shimmer of hope at the end. Everybody is nameless and there is no direct dialogue for some reason... not sure why. Anyway, the lack of details about the characters is intentional, so don't feel the need to critique that aspect as something I need to work on. Other than that, I'm open to whatever criticism you have. It was a quick, dirty scene for the most part.-----------------------The sky above, so blue and beautiful, seemed as if it went on forever, with limitless possibilities over my head. I felt, looking up into the yonder beyond my sight, that there was nothing in the world that could ever have been wrong. I felt as if wings would sprout from my back and the draft from below would lift me into the heavens where I would learn happiness. I reached up above me, a small smile upon my lips. I wished to take the sun from the sky. I could feel the warmth feeding into my fingers as I came ever closer.That was I felt warmth until my fingers touched the cold, forbidding steel. My sight widened and now no longer did I see the blue sky above me, but rather I saw it through a grate of bars through the top of my cell. My gaze fell slowly to look at the gray stone walls. They were thick, I knew. I'd tested every inch of the walls to find weaknesses--but there were none.Escape... it was just a fading dream.A sigh escaped me. Truly these days my sighs were almost as often as every breath I took--or at least it seemed that way to me. Whenever I stood within my cell, these thoughts consumed me. Escape and the realization that there would be no escape. I was not even sure anymore just why I was here, all the truth be told. Well yes, I do remember my crime, it seemed simple enough. I had stolen from the coffers of the church. Why I had done it is not important, not to the guard who had thrown me in the prison with orders on my punishment. The wealth of the church was not important either, not to the guard who had, with a smile upon his face, ordered my daily torture. But what did matter to me now is why the guard chose not to tell the gaoler how long to keep me.That one matter has haunted me. For four years I have lived with that. I no longer care that I had tried to steal from the church coffers. I do not care that an official "pardon of sin" was sent to me days later. There was no heaven, there was no hell. There was only a long suffering, knowing that if the guard had thought to say for how long I should be punished, that I would be gone from here. Perhaps I would be away from this city, away from this sadness.I moved to sit in the middle of my cell, though I dare not lie despite how badly I wanted to. Should I lay on my back, then the powerful pain in my back would flare. Should I lay on my side, then I fear that my brittle shoulder bones would shatter. Should I lay on my front, a mistake I made only once, a guard might think to play with me. The one time I had made this mistake, a cloth was doused in oil and set aflame to be tossed upon my back. Daily lashes were hell for the next month. No, I sat, the muscles in my middle clenched to keep me up.They fed us once a day. For the first few months, I resisted what they fed us. Even before I was brought here, I ate better than their gruel. I would only eat it when absolutely necessary, though whenever they would feed us broth, I never spared a drop. Sometimes they would give us turning fruit--a rare delicacy. At first when they would give us that, I would eat it, core, rind, whatever it was so that there was not even a crumb left. That's when I learned why they gave us the fruit--to enjoy us devouring it like animals, making no distinction between the edible and inedible. To them, we were pigs at a trough. Now, to preserve what little dignity I had, I would never eat the parts not meant to be eaten. Luckily, they still occasionally gave me fruit.I looked with a grimace as I saw the gruel being pushed towards me through the cell. It did not fail, you did not get accostumed to the gruel. It was terrible.But my thoughts were shaken from me as I heard her--I heard a weeping coming from down the hall. I normally only heard shouts from men down here. Women generally had different punishments around this city when they broke the law, so women in the jail were something of a rarity. With the weeping from this woman, I also heard many catcalls and lewd propositions follow here down the hall. I came to my feet, a wordless pain shooting through my knees as I did so. I came to the bars just as all the other men did, to look at the woman who would be joining or ranks as the forgotten, abused criminals of this city.Her eyes darted frightfully at all the leering men as she went. When she came close, I caught a glimpse of her. She was pretty, yes. And young--barely old enough to be considered a woman. She must have fought her punishment, as she had a bruise upon her right cheek and a trail of dry blood trailing from her nose. From the tears upon her dress, I guessed she failed. Her hair was matted and dirty and knotted terribly with dirty stains in it. I guessed she was caught in an alleyway.For a brief moment, our eyes met and her sobbing was pushed back for a moment. She looked to me, just a man with countless scars, a pair of pants, and haunted eyes. She still looked like she would fight, despite her crying, at least for a little while. They would break her as they had done me, I knew.They stopped just after my cell, to let her into the one that stood just beside mine. After a few rude words of a forboding future for her in this jail for having fought back, she was thrown into her cell with an unceremonious shove and a slam of her cell door. I heard a cry as they walked the opposite way down the hall they came, not past my cell again. I saw arms burst out through the bars as she cried for them to let her out, clinging in vain to the outside of her cell toward the direction they had gone.My heart clenched as I heard her scream and fight. From what I could see, one arm disappearing and the other with a fist. The man to her other side had gripped her wrist and was beginning to pull her, trying to feel whatever he could of this woman. But she fought, it would seem. The struggle soon stopped with a couple yells from the man and a couple light dull thuds. What went on, I was not sure.I heard her scurry to the side of the cell nearest mine. Why I did what I did next, I was not sure. I pushed my chest up against the wall nearest her cell, reached my right arm through the bars, and, around the very short stretch of wall between us, into hers. With my knuckles, I rapped upon the bars to get her attention. After a quick moment, I waved as much as I could using my wrist. I heard her move. Then I felt a finger poke my palm, testing to see if I was trying to grab her. Apparently I had not passed her test as I felt her hand seize my wrist and teeth sink into my hand. With a yelp, I weakly pulled my hand back. Luckily, she was not intent on keeping my hand.After a moment of nursing the line of bleeding puncture wounds, I tried again. After I rapped again, I heard her move again. This time, she let her fingers linger upon my palm. She was still weeping, I could hear. I felt her brush away what I was sure was the blood she had drawn. This time, I felt the brush of hair from her mane as her lips drew close to my hand. This time, I felt gentle lips brushing against where she had bitten me.I guessed that was her way of an apology.She put her tear-stained cheek against my palm. We both moved towards the ground, both sitting next to each other. I sat, with my knees bent, bearing the pain that shot through them, with my chest near the dull, grey wall. I assumed that she sat with her back against the same wall I faced, crying tears that now ran down my hand and mixing into my bloody wound.I no longer felt the pain from the bite. Perhaps it was because I knew she was truly sorry for hurting me. Nobody had ever felt bad about hurting me before, especially here. I felt bad for her, too. I hoped that helped her a little bit. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 11th, 2006
_12:15 am_[xell]	The Bloodbringer - Chapter 1 The dust was listless as it drifted through the sunlit window, its tiny dots showing no pattern in its travels. Nor did it seem interested in landing, for it merely skipped over the form of an awakening girl. As her eyes opened, those tiny forms of freedom were the first things her eyes focused on, and she smiled. Birds sang in the morning sunshine, just outside her second-story window – another good omen. Despite these encouraging factors, she still rolled over, murmuring some protest to the prospect of starting the day. As if on cue, her Aunt Victoria burst into the bedroom, swatting at the air as if emphasizing her urgency, “Maria. Maria, wake up!” The robust woman scurried to the window, fully opening its curtains. As the full sunlight poured down upon her, the younger girl groaned. “Don’t be like that, now. Don’t you know what day it is?”“The day where you let me sleep in, for once?” Maria’s answer was quick, though it was muffled due to her face being half immersed in pillow. “No, Gerrard’s leaving with the other Hunters. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” With a huff, she began plucking out a suitable dress for her niece. At the reminder, she found herself suddenly alert, sitting upright. How could I have let that slip my mind? Even with my Engraving coming up! After her internal chastisement, she gathered the clothing offered by her aunt, tugging it on in a rush. The dress was a simple one, but it was one that suited her features. Maria was a pretty girl, with soft blue eyes and brown hair that looped into ringlets. She was not a striking beauty, but some of her features were quite endearing. Her hands were slender and graceful, and her eyes were large and kind – able to express emotion beyond words. Maria’s frame was average, balancing delicately between slender and curvaceous. The youth was blessed in many ways, even if her nose was small and her lips were thin. “Auntie, could you help me with this?” She asked while turning, indicating a particularly impossible-to-reach series of loops and hooks. Without a word, her aunt responded, latching the back of the girl’s dress with dexterous hands. She had always been there to care for the girl, feeling somewhat obligated due to her parents’ absence. Not that it was anyone’s fault that the Union had decided to ship them to the city. Maria still remembered the day they left – waving to them as they looked over their shoulders from the carriage. Her mother’s eyes were tearful, but she was not allowed to cry. Her father stood with a stoic hand on her mother’s shoulder, nodding solemnly to their only child. It was their responsibility as citizens of the Union to go where they were needed, and they were not to make a scene over it. After all, such would give their impressionable child the wrong idea about their government. It was the Union who assigned such well-paying jobs to her parents in the first place, and the Union could just as easily take everything away. “How long before they leave? They always leave at noon, don’t they?” Her brows furrowed as she strained to see the position of the sun, slightly panicked. “You still have an hour, Child, but I’m sure Gerrard would like to speak to you before he leaves. But don’t worry; he’ll be back in three days or so. This is his first time out, but it most certainly won’t be his last. And just imagine – if he does well, he may even be Engraved as a Marksman, not just a Hunter! That would be nice, him being able to do more than one job. He is fairly handy with a bow. Why, when your Uncle was alive, he was Engraved as a Ranger. He worked so many different jobs, back in the day.” “Doesn’t it seem like a strange pairing to be arranged, Auntie - A Hunter and a Seamstress?” She looked at the band she wore, the faded print of ‘Seamstress’ staring back at her. “No more strange than a Ranger and a Cook.” She chuckled, setting her hand to the younger girl’s shoulder. Maria glanced to the Engraving around her Aunt’s wrist, the brand never changing over the years.--------------------This is as far as I've gotten in the story. This portion has a few more hangups than the last one did... All comments and suggestions welcome! Current Mood: sick (Comment on this)
Saturday, April 8th, 2006
_12:54 am_[xell]	Prologue - The Bloodbringer A long, slender blade exited the mortal wound, making no noise as it was withdrawn from his latest victim. The assaulted gasped, clutching the exposed portion of his chest, his eyes glazing as his skewered heart ceased its pulse. Meanwhile, the wielder of the sword stared at the dying man, his eyes swimming with a mixture of apathy, anger, and a hint of something remorseful. He cleaned the blood off of his blades with mechanical ease, using the edge of his black cloak to polish the once-marred weaponry. With a sudden hiss, the blades retreated back into the sleeves of his jacket, concealed again by an attire of darkness. From a distance, the stains of ichor could not be seen with such a hue, and this was his intent. Despite his habits of cruelty, he was hardly an ignorant man. He could not attribute his rage to an unfortunate childhood, nor to any palpable, reasonable source. From his outlook, he could only explain that his eyes were open, while the rest of humanity’s closed. This idea crawled beneath his skin, heating his blood and sending his nerves to seer. The rage blinded him, his conscious mind hardly aware of what he was doing, as if he were in a dream. Everyone with ‘closed eyes’ fell prey to his blade, and he found his attitude toward their death was disturbingly uncaring. Some odd portion of his mind justified his actions, even if they were mostly uncontrolled. He had to search for a reason, to cling to what sanity remained within his contradicting mind. Perhaps this was his destiny, and he was setting them free. He was convinced that they truly did not wish to live without free choice, so he could call his actions liberation. Even the ones who seemed happy were little more than puppets, feeling the emotion because that was the one assigned to them; Assigned, just as everything else in the world. Yet in his heart, he still did not feel like a killer, despite the fact that his blades felled many. It was as if a hypnotic force overtook him, guiding his hands as his purity sat idle, watching the activities of his body without interjecting. His muscles moved with tension from an unspoken focus, fueled by the anger that overwhelmed his senses. It gripped him like a harpy’s claw, though only for a brief time. When he woke from this trance-like state, he remembered what had transpired, yet not the reason why – never the reason why. He could only blanket his actions with his perspective, reasoning and rationalizing against the odds of his own morality. Sometimes, he even wondered if he played the part of a pawn, set up in some grand, cosmic game. The wielder of his piece must have been a great player, indeed, or perhaps one of madness. Either way, that guiding hand who led him on such paths seemed to care little of his value, throwing him in the midst of whatever opposing throng would resist him. Times were simpler, once, but his old life had long since departed. The transition was as subtle as a shift of sunlight, beaming down over a new spot of canopy where beams had never once tread.--------------------A prologue to a story idea I've had for a long, long time. Comments as to what I did right, and how I could improve are appreciated! Current Mood: indescribable (2 Comments |Comment on this)