The Dream On Library

Early morning thoughts in lyric form...

Tue, 08 Dec 2009 05:09:34 GMT

"I've a hole in my heart,
in the shape of her.
I don't want to spend another hour,
another mintue, another heartbeat,
Lost and missing you."

Star Wars Saga

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 10:01:18 GMT

Encrypted File: Current Journal Entry:

Have finally purchased Koyia's slave contract. She now belongs to me. Well... legally anyway.

If she wished to leave, she could. She's free, as far as I'm concerned. But the cover that she's my slave will keep her safe from pirates and the Empire.

Meanwhile she can be my ears and... heh... eyes on the street.

I need a ship and a crew. There is much to be done, and I'll need all the help I can get.

I hope Koyia understands the danger. If I am caught, all around me will suffer.

Thus why I must not be caught.

Entry end.

Maylanda Kamar

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 09:54:38 GMT

Acompa’s Travel Log: Number Four

Or

Anyone Order some Sixes?

Or

OMG, Carnivorous Zebras, WTF BBQ!!!!

Or

Real Ewoks of Genius

Entry 1

Well, I got some slept. Only a couple of days, but it seems a lot longer. Though I slept, I don’t really feel… rested. We’re flying somewhere again on Joon’s bird. I can’t shake this… ill feeling. Kyee’s probably still angry with me for some reason. I don’t smell Saji around anywhere near either. He usually doesn’t hunt with us… but… I dunno. I don’t feel right leaving him right now. I wish he was here. It’d at least give me someone to talk to.

I managed to get to Joon to understand me… a little. I had to draw him some pictures, but he seems to kinda understand. Apparently where ever we’re going now has trees. That’s good. I need to commune with the Great Spirit.

That, and I need a bath. They keep trying to point me to some “refresher” thing, but I won’t fall for it. I’m certain that it’s an evil tool of the metal demons.

Entry 2

This “beige” planet is not as forested as I had hoped, but at least it is a natural world with animals and growing things and narry a metal demon to be found. I’ve moved away from Kyee’s hunting party, to a crop of trees out on a nearby plain to camp and hunt.

There are animals here that remind me of home…. sorta… kinda. There are white and black stripped horses here, much like back home. Though I don’t remember those creatures having fangs. Or eating meat. But they can’t climb trees. I took one down with an arrow, easy enough. I took it back to the hunting party so Kyee and Joon and the others would have something to eat, but quickly headed back to camp.

I’ve set myself to communing with the Great Spirit once more. I must thank the Spirit and the spirits of my ancestors for giving me the strength to survive in these places, and to climb the great cave. I must pray for guidance, as I am uncertain of my direction. And I pray my wokling Saji finds protection in these uncertain times.

Entry 3

I awoke on the third day with a great sense of… something. I think the Great Spirit has found my prayers pleasing. I feel… more certain of myself. Stronger. Capable of anything I set my mind to. So I set my attention… to Saji’s magic wand. I took it from his room to make sure the metal demons didn’t steal it, and I’m anxious to give it back to him.

But… while I have it…

I’ve seen the Jeb-bi use these things a lot. I know which end the magic comes out of… I think. Saji almost never uses his. I’m not even sure what color his magic is.

So I set the magic wand on a log… and carefully pushed the button on the side, quickly diving away.

Sure enough, the magic flared up, a brilliant shade of blue. The magic disappeared very quickly though, for some reason. However, the fact that the magic is blue seems a good omen from the spirits.

After a little while of practice, I found the magic only appears while the button is pressed, and disappears when it is not. Interesting. So for the next few days, I set to practicing with it. I try to mimic what I have seen Kyee and Vareen and the other Jeb-bi do with their. It’s not exactly spear style, but something similar. I have to drip the wand with both hands. It’ll take some getting used to, I’m sure, but I’m willing to take the time to learn.

I found a way to hide it in my hood, however. I don’t wish Kyee or Vareen to take it until I can give it back to Saji.

It is an interesting weapon, these light wands. On day six of my practice with it, I found out just how effectively painful these things are. I over swung, and clipped the side of my leg with it. Easy mistake. With a regular rock weapon, not such a big deal. With this? Holy spirits. Fur disappeared. Burning pain! Yipe!

Magic wands are to be treated with respect. I must learn to be more careful.

Entry 4

I must get back to Kyee and the others. I’ve been awoken by a vision.

A great black bird, wrapped in clothing like the Jeb-bi’s, swooping down upon my camp sight, out of a storm and lightning filled sky. In one talon, it held a gold bead. With the other talon, it stomped out my camp fire, to which I awoke. The sky was clear… but it wouldn’t stay so for long. I could smell the storm coming.

This is a warning sent by the Great Spirit. I must let Kyee know.

Entry 5

Well… good news. Kyee has assured me she is not angry with me, for which I am glad.

She was, however, very concerned about my vision.

Oh… by the way… apparently the Great Spirit has seen fit to grant me a way to communicate. If I want, I can hear Kyee’s thoughts, and she apparently can hear mine. We still can’t understand each others words, but we can communicate with pictures and feelings. So I showed her my vision. She didn’t seem to know what it meant either, but she to seemed to think it was a warning about… something.

She regathered her hunting party on Joon’s bird. Though outside, some people were gathering. I dunno who they were, but some of them had pikes and torches and things. They seemed to want to talk to Joon about… something, however, apparently Joon decided that the hunt was more important, because he flew the bird of… fast.

Weird.

Entry 6

Joon took us to some place, I never really caught where or what this had to do with the dark bird, but I’m sure Joon knows what he’s doing. When he landed, he walked off with some green thing with no nose, while we waited on the bird.

A bunch of metal demons showed up, but Kyee told me not to blast them… which was odd. They look exactly like the demons we always fight when we go out hunting. They poked around in the bird for awhile. One of them took my rocks! The pretty glowing red ones I found.

Stupid metal demons.

But Kyee said not to fight them, so I didn’t.

After a few hours though, while Kyee and myself were meditating, Kyee’s talking box started squawking. I tried to sense were Joon was… but then suddenly felt… pain. And a lot of it. Joon was in trouble. Apparently Kyee felt it too, because seconds later… we started fighting with the metal demons.

Why we just didn’t do that in the first place, I’ll never know.

Oh, and there was a lot of fire. It hurt my ears, and tossed Vareen across the room. I dunno what the heck happened, but I’m almost sure it was that Snider guy’s fault.

But anyway, me and Kyee sneaked off to find Joon. And we found him, with one of those horrible probe machines that the devil men used on me when I first left home. Well I zapped the crap out of it, and we took Joon back to his bird, cause he looked really hurt.

Anyway, after a lot of flying, we flew off again.

I’m still not sure what we accomplished with that.

Entry 7

We’re somewhere else, while Joon tries to help out his bird, which was apparently hurt by the metal demons.

I still have this lingering bad feeling about… well… everything.

I sit and think of Saji. And suddenly… I know. I’m not sure how, but I just do. He’s in danger. I pray to the Great Spirit, or any spirit that will hear. To to Saji! Tell him to run! NOW! Please be safe. Run. Hide.

It’s hard to focus. I hate this helpless feeling. I want to go to Saji, right now. I try to tell Kyee this. And I get this feeling that she’s agrees… yet… we don’t go.

And I don’t understand why.

Entry 8

Bad. Something bad. I still smell the storm, only it feels so much closer now. It feels like we’re being stalked by some beast, or a gang of Duloks. We’re in danger. I just don’t know from what.

And I HATE that.

Joon’s bird flies away with us again… but the storm smells even close, even when we fly fast. Finally we stop. Kyee and Vareen seem to… know something. They’re waiting… for something.

Outside… I feel it. Something’s out there, and it’s found us.

Joon’s bird stops… and along side it, another bird flies. The two birds hover together. Kyee and Vareen go to the door, and I follow.

We go from Joon’s bird, to the other. But while Joon’s bird has light inside, it’s as black as night inside the other. Which is fine. I hunt at night. I sniff around, but I only smell one living thing inside the dark bird. When I point Kyee to it… I suddenly smell something else.

Metal demons.

I shot first. I’ll admit it. But not by much. One shot, one metal demon fell. But it’s brothers had us surrounded already. Vareen attacked another… charging away from Kyee. Leaving her alone, when fighting as group would have been much more effective, I would think, Especially since all the demons were shooting their evil magic at her. I stayed by her though, for all the good it would do. I’m to short to be much of a shield for her. But… I tried.

Anyway, as quick as the fight began, it ended. Darkness turned light, so we could see inside the bird… the metal demons suddenly retreating.

And the living thing inside the bird? Was… another bird.

It was like a people bird. Black, dressed in robes. It had a magic wand, like the Jeb-bi’s. A golden one.

Kyee and Vareen spoke with the bird, though I didn’t understand what they were saying. It didn’t matter though, I was to distracted. The storm, this… great feeling of dread… it was al around us. And whatever they were saying… wasn’t as important as the storm. I wanted to do… something. Anything. Fight it. Run from it. SOMETHING.

But the storm caught us, just the same.

Entry 9

Saji is dead. I think. Or maybe not. I can’t… feel him any more. He might be alive, but there’s nothing I can do to help him. I must trust that I have taught him enough that he might survive what has happened. I must trust the Great Spirit to watch over him.

I hate this feeling of helplessness. But I must trust in the spirits. And do what I can.

Something has happened. I can’t understand the words, but I understand enough. The storm has and is killing the Jeb-bi. They are disappearing, one by one.

The hunting party is splitting up. It’s the best way. Scatter. The predators can’t catch us all that way.

I can’t save Saji. But I can save Kyee.

I’m taking her home. Back to the other Ewoks.

I realize how big a risk that is. That the metal demons might follow us back to home.

But I can’t leave her alone. She’ll die if I do. Joon seems to agree.

So we’re going home.

Despite it all… I look forward to it.

At long last… I’m going home.

This will be the last entry in my travel log for awhile. Or perhaps… forever.

But still… home Here I come.

Fin.

P.S. I wonder how to explain what Kyee is to my father and the rest of the Ewok tribe. Maybe I’ll try to pass her off as some sort of mate or something. Hmm…

Star Wars Saga: May

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 02:53:12 GMT

“Good night, May. Sleep well,” the fair haired woman said softly, with a kiss upon the forehead.

“Good night, Mother,” the dark haired little girl replied. Settling into her lush pillow, curling up in her silken sheets. Silent, as the woman turned the lights out, and quietly left the room.

All was quiet for many minutes, before the small astrometrics droid lightly chimed. At the sound, the little girl sat up, “Thank you, M7.” Her little bare feet touched the floor as she walked to the center of the darkened room. The small purple droid rolled to meet her, giving a questioning chime. “No, we won’t have to wait long. I sense she’s already here.”

“I see you are getting better at that, young one.” A woman stepped out from behind the curtains near the rooms balcony window. The woman was tall, slender, with pure white skin decorated with blue runic tattoos. There was a faint point to her ears, when not hidden beneath her long white hair. She regarded the little girl. The child could be not much more than ten. Perfect skin and hair, in silken bed cloths of a nobleman’s child. The child was beautiful, perfect… save for the bandages that covered her eyes. Or… to be more correct… where her eyes should be. “What of your other assignments?”

The little girl nodded, turning towards the droid. With a slight hiss, a compartment opened upon it’s metallic surface, and out slid a metallic rod. The base… of a light saber. “They always check me, but they can’t detect it on M7. No one found it,” the little girl said calmly, turning to the woman in white, “And you, teacher, are an Arkanian offshoot.”

The woman chuckled, “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Mother keeps lots of records on the races father does business with. Records mother doesn’t think I can read,” May said with a sigh. “She’s not my real mother, you know.”

There was a coldness in the woman’s tone, “My mother tried to kill me when I was 4, for picking up a toy without touching it. So you would do well to respect a mother that cars, whether she birthed you or not.” The woman took a moment to control herself, before she nodded, “However, you are correct, Maylanda. That is my race. You have done well.”

Maylanda was unsure how to express how she felt, after a scolding and then praise. So she softly nodded, “Thank you teacher. Are we going to practice now?”

There was a soft hum as the woman in white lit her own light saber, considering it’s blue glow. “We are. Learn well, we won’t be having to many more of these lessons.”

The child looked panicked, as she lit her own light saber, “Why? Do you need more credits? I can pay you more.”

The teacher shook her head, “Money isn’t the issue. The Jedi Counsel is deciding what to do about we of the 200. Soon I will be hunted along with the rest whom stepped away from the Order. This planet will not be safe for me.”

May sighed quietly, but then nodded, “I will miss you when you go, Teacher.”

“Be mindful of such attachments, child. They cloud you’re connection to the living Force.” There was a pause before, “But I will miss you as well, May. Now, show me what you’ve learned.”

And thus, in the darkness of the child room, the two crossed sabers. The woman attacking, while the child defended. May focused on deflecting many strikes from her much taller, more experienced teacher. Till at last she hissed in pain, struck by and over head blow. Thankfully these were just practice, stun sabers.

“May,” her teacher spoke, “You must concentrate. I know I push you hard, but in saber combat, you can make no mistakes. The slightest hit from your opponent will cost you an arm, or a leg, or a life. Now, defend. Again.”

The teacher struck, again with the exact same over head attack. And, as before, the child was unable to block it. “Again.” Same results. “Again.” The same. “Again!”

When saber touched flesh, the child gave a choked sound, falling to her knees, clutching her head. The teacher blinked, kneeling down beside the child, even as the droid rolled towards the door to see if any had heard the sound. For a moment, the woman was white was confused, the stun sabers should not have hurt that much. Then… she felt it. She felt ripples in the Force, and she knew. “What do you see, child?”

May had broken out into a cold sweat, though no tears fell from where eyes should have been. Her voice was weak, haunted, but she spoke… “I see death. I see myself… other children… in robes… we’re at… the temple… I think. I see a man in black… no… a machine… no… he’s both… he’s… he’s killing us. All of the children. Just… killing… for no reason. Make him stop. Please…” May curled up, sobbing. The woman in white held her, softly rocking her… till the fit at last passed. “What…”

“Shhh, child,” her teacher softly spoke, “A warning from the Force. A vision. I will teach you how to control such things, if I can.”

“Can… I stop it from happening?”

Her teacher was quiet for a moment, “Force willing, maybe. Do not dwell on it though, heed the warning, but be mindful of the now. If you let such visions consume you, you will be easy prey for the Dark Side.” The teacher softly stood, “That’s enough practice for tonight, you should rest, young one.”

May shakily picked up her saber, and shook her head, “No.” The child stood up, shaking her black hair out of her face. “I pay you for the full night.”

The woman in white softly blinked, then chuckled, “So bet it, May. So be it. Again.”

WoD: S.C.

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 06:42:47 GMT

http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j23/Dream_OnS/Art%20Gallery/swSC.jpg

~You want to know my story? What an odd thing to ask, but sure. Whatever. It’s not much of a story. Actually, all the little stories that go around mine are waaay more interesting, but not by a great deal. But hey. It’s your dime, I’ll talk. S’been awhile since I’ve had anyone to talk to anyway.~

~Let’s see, where to start. I’m from a crap little Appalachian town, called Spencer. You probably haven’t heard of it. It’s about 50 miles from Jack, and 50 more miles from Squat. Yeah, didn’t think ya’d heard of it. It’s not much of a town. The interstate passed it by back in the seventies. Heck, the buses don’t even run through there anymore. It’s a good place to get away from everything if you’re not from there. If you are, gets a good place to get away from, if you can. You know little towns. S’hard to get away. They cling tight to their guns and churches and kids.~

~Anyway, if you actually have heard of the place, it’s probably in relation to the big shoot out they had back in ‘78. A bunch of… well no one really knows who… had a ruckus with… well no one really knows that either. Went down in the town hospital though. Yeah, the town is big enough to have one of those. Lotta people got shot in the cross fire. They say the whole town went crazy and that was like the end of the fight or whatever. I don’t remember it though, which is about right cause I was only like a week old when it happened. Lucky me, I didn’t get squished in the fight. It never made it to the maternity ward.~

~So yeah, that’s the most interesting thing that’s ever happened in that town, apparently. Hey, I said stories around me were interesting, not mine. You asked.~

~I had a pretty ok child hood. As good as you can get in a crappy redneck town. My dad was pretty awesome. He taught me to read, taught me to draw. When I was tall enough, he used to take me to the range and teach me to shoot. I’m not a huge fan of guns, I like swords. Sword fights in the old Robin Hood movies always fascinated me. Dad too, really. He always used to say sword play was a more honorable practice. But it wasn’t an honorable world, not anymore, so he taught me to shoot. I never went out hunting with him though, as he did with his dad. My dad gave up hunting back in the mid seventies. He said there were just to many mean critters in the woods, and he just lost his taste for it.~

~I always thought it was odd that he would say something like that. The meanest things in this neck of the woods would be bears (of which there aren’t that many left) and wolves. And all the wolves died out in the way early eighties. Some disease or some such. The government tried to bring in some coyotes for some reason back in the nineties, but I dunno if they made it here or not.~

~Where was I? I rambled. Oh yeah.~

~So yeah, dad was pretty awesome. Till he got sick. Mom… mom was ok to, for awhile. I’ll… get to that part shortly.~

~Growing up, I always tried to figure out what I wanted to be when I was an adult. At first, I wanted to be a Thundercat. Yeah, I’m a child of the eighties. Annnnyywaay. Then I wanted to be an astronaut. And then I wanted to draw comic books for a living. For awhile there, I had a real keen hope to be a veterinarian. Ya know, animal doctor. I used to try to figure out how.~

~There was a lot of stray cats in my town. Most went feral, ran around as they pleased. One was this really pretty black and white tabby. I used to call her Figero. She’d almost let me get close to her if I stayed real still, but wouldn’t let me pet her for the longest time. Well, one day I found her hurt. Must have gotten scratched up in a fight with another cat or something. I got my dad’s first aid kid and convinced her to let me patch her up. After that, she let me pet her a few times. Which made me happy. Last time she even let me pick her up and hold her. Something must have spooked her though, cause she jumped. She accidentally scratched me with her back paw when she did. I still got the scar on my left arm. See? It‘s ok. She didn‘t mean it.~

~So… ok ok, mom. Mom was wonderful growing up. She was a stay at home mom, so we spent lots of time together when I was small. She went back to work when I got bigger though, which left me a lot of time by myself (time to figure out how to patch up stray cats, you will note). As the years went on, mom got more and more… distant. Sullen. Stressed. And after awhile, I figured out why. Her mom. My grandma.~

~Now, there was nothing overly huge out of the ordinary here. Grandma’s not like some sort of super villain or something. She’s just an old lady who… well… got old. Her mind slowly went, I guess. She’d never had a job, or much talent, for anything… but guilt. Anything she could think of to manipulate the people around her with guilt, she’d do it. I dunno why. For the attention I guess. The control. Grandpa was a nice man, a devoted husband for 60 some years. And she accused him of everything under the sun. Of stealing things. Of having an affair. (And let me tell you, if my 87 year old grandpa can get a girlfriend and I can’t, there is something wrong with this world). Grandma would keep him at the house all the time, cause if he left her sight, she’d accuse him of something else dumb. She’d throw a fit whenever mom wouldn’t come to visit her every day. She’d accuse mom of things to.~

~And you know the old saying. Shit runs down hill. After awhile, crazy rubs off I guess. Cause mom would start doing the same thing to dad. And me.~

~I’m not going into much detail. I really don’t want to think about it that much. So I’m just going to skip to the end.~

~Dad got sick. He was getting on in age, it happens. One night, he collapsed. Heart failure. While we were at the hospital, apparently grandma said something to grandpa. And grandpa… finally snapped. Mom found their bodies at their house, cause she was worried when they didn’t answer the phone. Apparently it wasn’t pretty.~

~Hmm? Dad? Nah. He didn’t make it either. God rest his soul.~

~Anyway, that pretty well just left me and mom. And… well… mom just got worse from there.~

~After I graduated from high school… I left. It… wasn’t the right thing to do. However… I don’t think there was a right thing to do in that situation. Stay and end up like grandpa, or go and be a bad son. It’s a lose no matter what. Plus, she told me to.~

~Hmm? Oh, not mom. My angel. Don’t look at me like that, I know it’s not a real angel. It’s a dream I sometimes have. About this girl, with pale white skin and jet black hair. She told me… well… told isn’t the right word… encouraged me to go. In a dream. Several dreams, actually. And one day, after an argument with mom… I did. I even saw Figero on my way out of town. I like to think she was wishing me well, but she was probably just wondering why I hadn‘t fed her that day.~

~I tried to call mom a few months later. Tell her I was ok n’stuff. Turns out she snapped to. No… no I’m not proud of that. There’s not a lot I can do to fix it though.~

~So… now I’m out here. On the road. Looking for a new home. And let me tell you, as bad as my town was… it’s way worse out here. I’ve seen shit you wouldn’t believe. Like what? Nuh-uh. You wouldn’t believe it. You’d probably just think I need locked up or something. I tell you though, it’s real and it’s friggin’ scary.~

~Would I go back? Well… now that you ask…. No. No I really wouldn’t.~

~Funny ol’world, is it not?~

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 05:50:19 GMT

She had barely lifted her hand to knock, before the door opened. And there, the two faced each other once more. There was always that tense moment between them, where it was ever uncertain whether they would embrace as friends, or clash weapons in deadly combat. That moment soon faded, however, as Spencer softly smiled. “Good day, dear sister,” he greeted her warmly.

Sheryl gave him a sour look, and pushed passed him, “Don’t ‘dear sister me. Don’t you feel that?”

Spencer closed the door behind her and nodded, “Of course I do.”

She blinked, spinning around on him with an incredulous look, “And?”

“And… what?”

She blinked again, starting to stay something, then stopping. Until finally, “Since when did ~I~ become the responsible one, and you become the lazy git?”

Spencer chuckled, “Probably around the time we retired. You look good, Sheryl. You should come over more, though. You need the company, you know that.”

“Oh please, this is not the time for that,” she waved him off, crossing her eyes with a huff. “We need to…”

“We need to what?” he interrupted her. “We’re not the Travelers anymore, Sheryl. We can’t go looking for whatever you think you’re feeling. We don’t have a…”

“A key?” she interrupted him, this time. From out of her coat, she produced a small skeleton key. It’s loop shimmering gold, it’s length ivory white.

Spencer blinked, “Where did you get that?”

Sheryl shrugged, “It appeared outside my door. Not very subtle, but I think it was hurt.,“ holding the key out for him to examine. “See look… those are dragon fang marks, if I ever saw them. And I have.”

Spencer tugged a pair of reading glasses from his coat and looked over the key as she held it. He was, however, careful not to touch it. “Well huh.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Sheryl sighed, puffing a lock of hair out of her eyes as she thought. “Heath and Kath have been going on about a new Traveler, on some world named Tyrra. They hadn’t found him or her yet though. And seeing as we know where the other three keys on, I’d have to assume…”

“That this key has to belong to whoever the new Traveler is… or will be,” Spencer finished for her. “I’ve heard of this Tyrra. It’s a mad house. It’s nearly been over run by the Abyss multiple times, it has portals all over, both natural and un-natural. Heath said he thought it was on the verge of dragon war. A Traveler would almost have to be there full time to keep it from exploding.”

Sheryl shrugged, “Well, there’s no Traveler there now, not while we have this. So… what do we do?”

Spencer was quiet, then finally sighed, “Obviously this key wants to take us somewhere. Not just you or me, but both of us. So… I guess we let it.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that. So… take it and let’s friggin’ get this over with.”

A moment hung between them, before Spencer reached out, and placed his hand over her own, the key clasp between them

And then… they were elsewhere.

They appeared in a long hallway, which stretched, seemingly, endlessly in both directions. And along each wall of the corridor, were walls. Hundreds, thousands, millions. This was a place the two of them had been many times before. The space between words.

A door slammed behind them, and Spencer spun towards the sound, to find Sheryl already looking that direction. “What was that?” he whispered.

Sheryl merely chuckled, “Lizzie, I think.”

Spencer blinked, “And why do I smell smoke?”

Sheryl again chuckled, “Because he skirt was on fire.”

Spencer was at a loss for words for a long time, before finally, “Are we sure Lizzie isn’t Logan’s long lost daughter or something?”

Sheryl looked at him and grinned viciously, “Just as sure as I am that I’m not your twin sister, dear brother mine.” With that, she began walking.

Spencer watched her, then sighed with a laugh, “Yeah yeah,” as he followed her.

They walked for a long time in silence. In truth, it didn’t really matter which direction they went. The key would either guide them to where they were need, or fate would. It’s pretty much the way it had always worked.

“There,” Sheryl whispered, pointing to a door, half open.

And there, on the floor in the doorframe, was slumped a body.

Spencer thought for a moment it was a child, but as they drew closer he decided that was not the case. Though the person was the size of a child, he knew that particular race didn’t grow much bigger. The body was male, dressed in red and gold. This person wore no shoes and his brown hair pulled up into a sort of pony tail, but on top of his head, rather than in the back. “A halfling?” Spencer inquired, as Sheryl knelt down beside the door.

There was a moment of quiet, before Sheryl hissed, “Not a halfing. A kender. What the bloody nine hells is a kender doing here?!”

Spencer looked at her blankly, “What’s a kender?”

Sheryl looked at him and scowled, “They’re like halflings, only a thousand times worse.”

Spencer wondered why that was a bad thing, he’d always liked halfings. However he knew not to argue with Sheryl when she got in a mood. “So… what does that mean?”

Sheryl shrugged, “I dunno. He’s still alive. Doesn’t look hurt, just out. And look there, pinned to his shirt. That’s a gold dragon scale, if I’m not mistaken.”

Spencer quirked a grin, “And you never are.”

Sheryl ignored that, “Either way, dunno what we’re supposed to do with him. The key brought us to… oops.”

Sheryl fumbled the key in her, apparently. Really, more accurately, the key jumped from her hand. Landing on the chest of the small man. And there it rested… and began to glow a soft golden light.

Sheryl blinked, backing away. Then she began to speak, in a rough language Spencer knew to be dwarvish. He’d heard her swear in it more than a few times. “No no no, I refuse. This is a joke,” she swore.

“What?” Spencer asked, still not sure of the problem.

“We can NOT make a kender the new Traveler. No no. I won’t have any part of it.”

Spencer blinked, then began to laugh, “Sheryl? We don’t get a say in the matter. It looks as if the key has made it’s choice. Joke or not, we have to make the best of it.” He moved passed her, kneeling down. Softly, he touched the key, and began to peer through the door. Staring for a long time, before he shook his head, standing. “Yep. That’s Tyrra.”

Sheryl, still not pleased, looked. “How bad is it?”

Spencer shrugged, “Not terrible, but not good either. With the possibility of getting very bad, very quickly. The veil between life and death is getting crossed over, like… a lot. More over, this dragon war is coming soon. And all it needs is the right dragon to cast the wrong spell, and it all comes crashing down.”

Sheryl sighed, spreading her fingers helplessly, “So? What do we do. Train this one? It’ll take forever to teach him everything he needs to know to fix it.”

Spencer shook his head, “We don’t have forever. Time passes differently here than there, of course. One month here is only a day there. The problem is, this little guy can’t be gone for more than a few days. Three would be pushing it.”

Sheryl stared at him. “You’re kidding. We have three months… to teach a kender… how to be a Traveler.” Letting that soak in. “How in the bloody hell to you propose we do that?”

Spencer, thought, for a long time. Before he looked to her, a grim look on his face. “That’s simple, dear sister. We must take him… to Sigil.”

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 05:33:00 GMT

~I can still remember… if I try hard enough. When I was a child…. centuries ago.~

~I remember my father… teaching my brother and I. My brother was never one for the bow, he preferred the sword. While I? Once I had that bow in my hand… I knew I’d never be whole without it.~

~If I think hard enough, I can remember all the lessons father taught us. My brother and I. About the forest. The plants. The animals. The world. I remember the call of the wild, and the warmth of the Sun.~

~If I try hard enough… I can almost remember my name. Though something in me always says it’s a Lie.~

***

~I remember, before the war. Life in the forest. So free. I had… companions. Friends. Animals of the forest. Father gave me Lucy. She was so beautiful and sleek, with her red gold wing and lithe body.~

~Together, we hunted. Together we found Fang, the mighty white furred lion.~

~The three of us… hunted far… into the crater. There we found King. The four of us were a force of the elvish people. We were defenders of the forests. We were a family.~

***

~Then death came for the first time.~

***

~After the War, I remember… hunger. Needing. An empty ache that nothing could fill. We were alone, Lucy, Fang, King and I. For all I knew, I could be the last living high elf on the world. And it hurt… so… very bad.~

~The forest preserved me, however. Gave me strength. Taught me to feed myself again. And we settled into this new world. Again we fought. New enemies. New powers. Trying to keep the forests safe. But they kept coming. Goblins and orcs and humans and dwarves… seeking to cut down trees. Seeking to mine ore. For their industry. For their alliances. For their purposes.~

~I moved my family, across the sea. To new forests. To the call of nature. And for a time, things were ok. I met other elves, but they were not like me. They were not like father or brother. They were a darker breed. They shunned me. But that was ok. My bow was keener than theirs. They could not stop me.~

~Someone told me my people had allied themselves with the orcs and minataurs. Strange… but if it kept the forests safe… who was I to argue.~

***

~And then death came for the second time. And this time, I could not survive his wraith.~

***

~I awoke at his feet. The first thing I noticed, to my vanity, was my hair. That which was once as black as night, was now as white as the fallen snow. The second thing I noticed, was the cold. My leathers and bow were gone, and my body was encased in this… black… plate… armor. It chilled me to my very core.~

~What I noticed last, strangely, was perhaps the most important thing. My heart… it beat no more.~

~I awoke at death’s feet, and he told me I served him now. That’s when the whispers came. Inside my head. Inside my very soul, perhaps. I heard so many of them. He had done something to me, and now I was not alone.~

~I heard the whispers. Speaking to me. I heard a mother sob, I heard a baby giggle. I heard a man speak of magic. I’d never studied such a thing, but now the whispers would teach me how to draw the most complex of summoning circles, if I wanted. I heard them all. Dozens. Hundreds. Voices inside me. All whispering at once. I want to scream them into silence, but I can not.~

~I can only rise, and serve him. He who had killed my people. He who had killed me. For I heard his voice in my head, loudest of all. And I was nothing against his will. I could only nod, and obey.~

***

~I killed. I killed in his name. So many people. Some innocent, some not. I killed them all, with the sword he had given me.~

~The blood flowed, all around me. So much death. So much blood. And still the voices whispered to me. Some cheering my actions. Some damning me. Some offered advice. None offered comfort.~

~I was killing his enemies. He had given me one of his great skeletal creatures to ride upon. I remember thinking it must have been beautiful, when it was alive. This great dragon. But now I was only bone and magic. And death.~

~I used the creature, to rain death upon his enemies. Until something went wrong. Arrows few from the ground below. Up over, and back down upon myself. I remember falling. I remember wanting to scream… but I can’t remember if I did.~

***

~I don’t really know if I died again. Perhaps so. Part of me did, anyway.~

***

~When I woke, the sound of the ocean and the voices inside me greeted me, in their own way. All the voices… save one. His. He was silent. He was gone. I… we were alone.~

~No, we weren’t alone. We were surrounded.~

“Get up, bitch.” ~A man in red armor snarled, yanking me to my feet by my hair. I hissed in pain, as other men in red surrounded us. They were his enemies. The ones I’d been killing for him. And now they had me.~

~They began to hurt me. First with fists, then with sword, then with magic. They took turns. They… hurt me. And one by one, the voices inside me began to agree… one by one. They all agreed at last… we had to save ourselves.~

“What do you have to say for yourself, whore knight.” ~one man in red laughed.~ “Anything to say before we send you to hell?”

~There was a moment of silence… and then we spoke.~ “Nomen mihi Legio est, quia multi sumus.” ~We whispered.~

“IN PROPER LIGHT’S COMMON, SCUM!” ~The man roared.~

~Another moment of silence, as we pushed ourselves to our feet. We felt power all around us. And we called out to it. The very ground began to rumble at our words.~ “My name is Legion… for we… are MANY.”

~From there… there were screams. Screams of the men in red. Screams of our enemies. And blood. And darkness.~

***

~We awoke… in blood. Pools of it. None of it ours, all if it our enemies. All dead. All. Torn limb from limb. Disemboweled. Destroyed, by the armies we could now call upon.~

~We awoke in blood. We were free of him. Free of death. But not of each other.~

~We heard the ocean, and we turned to it. We remember them… I remember… Lucy… Fang… King… they might still live. But so far away.~

~We step out, and the water freezes beneath our footstep. We look down, and smile.~

~It will be a long walk, across the ocean. But we now have nothing but time.~

~We walk. Alone, with our thoughts.~

***

~We can still remember, if I try hard enough.~

The Call

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 07:06:17 GMT

(Aside: What follows is a series of small veniet short stories, surrounding a centeral idea. Even if that idea is only apparent to me. These stories are to give light to some of my old games, give connection to some of my new, and to keep my mind active. A nod to those spirits inside my imagination. Of those who still heed... the Call.)

The World of Pokemon:

A young, sandy haired boy sat upon a grassy hillside, overlooking a vast forest. He sat in silence, watching the sun set below the horizon before him. He sat, his mind lost in thought. Finally, he sighed. “You feel it too, don’t you Chrome?”

Near him, a silvery sphere, about the size of a soccer ball, floated towards him. Held aloft, apparently, by the force of two magnets on either side of it, the metal creature regarded the boy with its one lens like eye and buzzed softly.

The boy tilted his head, then nodded. “Yeah. Something is about to happen. Something bad… maybe. There’s someone… or something out there calling to us. They want us to help.”

The metal sphere buzzed again, in a questioning tone.

The boy stood up, dusting the grass off his pants. He paused, looking at the metal creature, as he considered. “Well yeah. We’re gonna go. If we can help out… we gotta try, ya know? But your right. We can’t go it alone.”

The boy turned to walk down the hill, the metal sphere following him. From his pocket, the boy pulled out a small, hand held computer, softly typing in information. “We’re defiantly going to need a full team. Hmm.” The boy stopped, turning to watch the last few rays of sun disappear, and night fall. Before he smiled.

“Come on, Chrome. Let’s go catch us some new friends.”

Star Wars Saga

Sat, 18 Jul 2009 04:10:35 GMT

~She heard the servants speaking, as she descended the stairs.~ At least the young mistress is spared the sight. ~They said.~

~That wasn’t quite true, but why add to the trauma of what already was.~

~House Kamar, meaning the building not the family, was a beautiful place. It’s architecture was a throw back to simpler, more graceful times on Coruscant. Smooth blue marble, open air breezeways, and beautiful flowering plants from all over the galaxy, dotting each niche and room. The building was a sight to behold, though few knew she could see it. She was savoring being here. For she knew it would be the last time she’d walk these halls.~

So terrible. ~The servants below whispered.~ Xaran and Alanda, traitors to the Empire. It just can’t be so. The young mistress, orphaned again so young. It just can’t be.

~But it was. Her parents were guilty of acts against the Empire… just not the acts they had jus been tried and executed for.~

Now what shall we do? ~Was the murmur among all within the house.~

~Save one. She chose this time to enter the room, where all the servants of the house had gathered. It took them all a few moments, to notice the young girl, but there were quick shushes when they did.~ Young mistress? ~one started to stay, but she lifted a hand to still them.~

I know, many of you are uncertain as to what will happen next. It is my task, sadly, to inform you that House Kamar is officially being disbanded. As of now, this noble house is no more.

~There was a quick sounding of outrage among the servants. She let the sound start to settle, before she lifted her hand again.~ Each of you will be taken care of. I have written letters of recommendation for each of you. Houses Halcyon and House Horn have agreed to take you on… if you chose to take them up on the offer.

~Again, a murmur. Some pleased, some not. Until finally.~ But mistress… where will you go?

~Maylanda Kamar slowly turned away. A wisp of a sigh heard.~ Away from here.

* * *

~She awoke to darkness. And the scent of metal and smoke and sweat.~ M7, are you there? ~she whispered. And was answered by a series of beeps very near to her. Quietly she smiled.~ Good boy.

~It had been nearly 14 years since the fateful day she disbanded House Kamar and left Coruscant for the Mid and Outter rims. And her faithful R2-M7 had been by her side every step of the way. The last few years had found them here, on the StarForge Station. She’d been posing as a droid and ship mechanic. The pay was ok, as if she needed the credits. Most importantly, however, it offered her anonymity. No one knew who she was here. More importantly, no one cared.~

~Quietly, she stretched her small form out over her bed, and sighed. Feeling around, till she found her blindfold, she bound her hair, then her “eyes”, then set to getting dressed.~ The problem with living on a space station, M7, is you never totally feel clean. What I wouldn’t give for a full on luxury refresher.

~The small droid beeped it’s agreement, occasionally moving to nudge her this way or that. With no plant life or other living things, other than herself, in this room she truly was as blind as many people thought she was.~

~She was startled from her thoughts by a pounding on the door~ Hey, little tramp. Get out here and get to work!

~For a moment, her temper began to rise, but with a few breaths she calmed her mind.~ Yes, Vuhlg. Coming. Terribly sorry, sir. ~She waited till she heard the thumping of feet moving away from the door. Oh how she hated that squid faced Quarren slime. When she thought of all the things she could hire someone to do to him… or she could do to herself…~

~M7 made a soft soothing beep, distracting her from her mental rant. She sighed, nodding~ Your right, your right. I know. Bleh. Let’s go to work.

~Out on the street, where living things were, the world came into focus once more. She was never quite certain how her sight differed from what other race’s vision looked like, as she had nothing to compare it to really, but she seemed to do ok. The trick was seeing everything… while pretending not to be able to. It was a trick she had many years of practice in.~

~She had to keep her hood up, however, while she worked. Many would question a human working on the inner mechanics of their ship with a blind fold on. Usually, however, she could find a spot where she was out of sight, but still close enough to living things to be able to see. Where she could work in peace. It was usually repairing minor (or sometimes major) things with the ships that passed by here. Worn transistors, leaky tubes, and so on. It was hard work, but she rather enjoyed it. It was, usually, soothing.~

~Though it wasn’t as soothing as it had been in days passed. She was restless. It was hard to keep her mind on her work. Things were so mundanely simple, lately. While it had been what she was seeking, she was slowly beginning to resent it. She had this vast urge to be somewhere else… to be doing something else. However, she wasn’t quite sure what.~

~Though, really, she did.~

~At the end of the day, her pale slender form was near filthy. Smudged with soot from the arc welders. She glistened with sweat from the heat of the work. Heh. If her parents, and the other noble houses of Coruscant, could see her now.~

~Her body was pleasantly numb, as she took the glass of water M7 brought to her. She quietly followed the droid through the streets of the space station. She could go shopping in the bazaar, she supposed, but she didn’t really need anything. Well… she did, but nothing that wouldn’t attract a lot of attention.~

~M7 lead her to her usual bar on the outskirts of the station. And soon she was settled in a booth in the far corner. She sought to ignore the scent of smoke and spice on the air, as she simply tried to sooth herself.~

Hey baby. Here for the usual? ~A soft, musical voice touched her ears, as she looked up.~

But of course, Koyia. That would be very welcome. ~Koyia was a beautiful, purple skinned twi’lek dancer. She had once been fairly down on her luck, but had gained some level of success since coming to this station. Though not near enough for her level of talent, in Maylanda’s opinion.~

~Koyia had brought her her usual drink, and then settled into her dance routine. It was, in part, just for show. In a way. Not to say that Maylanda didn’t enjoy the lithe twi’lek’s dances. While she danced, however, the two would speak. Koyia picked up all sorts of information in her “line of work”. And for a few extra credits, and a bit of friendship, she would relate to them to Maylanda. It’s how she kept informed on what was going on in the galaxy. Really informed.~ So no one knows what the Empire is building?

~Koyia shook her head.~ No. But it’s got to be something big. The demand for supplies and metal and weapons is unheard of. It’s got the rebels kind of spooked. Both sides are making a mad rush for weapons. The demand is huge.

~Maylanda sat and considered quietly. And then faintly, her pale lips smiled.~ Perfect. Koyia, someday I’m going to buy you. ~her smile widening~

~Koyia, of course, took it as a joking pipe dream, but none the less smiled~ Of course you are, baby. You got a plan in mind, I take it?

~Maylanda nodded~ It’s a long shot, but it’s worth the chance.

~May tipped the girl a quite a bit extra this time, heading out of the bar. M7 beeped curiously as they headed back onto the streets.~ We’re going to start rebuilding, M7. But first, we need a ship and a crew.

~It was time to make a few calls, call in a few favors. Surely there was someone with the right stuff to help her out. She just had to find out who.~

Maylanda and R2-M7
http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j23/Dream_OnS/yesimanoble.jpg

Koyia the dancer
http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j23/Dream_OnS/koyia.jpg

Sat, 04 Apr 2009 05:34:25 GMT

I dreamt of her again.

Today on the street. Last night under my sheets. Tomorrow in my mind.

I dreamt of her again. I have, I am, I will dream.

Of her.

She once was real. At least, I think she was. I remember that she might have once been mine.

Once, long ago.

She is but a dream now. Not real, but mine.

She is made of memories. Assembled by thoughts of those I have lost.

She is made of hopes, of someone I might find someday.

She is made of tears, of the despair that she is not by my side in this moment.

I remember her. She is soft in my arms.

I remember her. Her scent is sweet.

I remember her. The soft taste of her kiss on my lips.

She looks at me. With eyes so green.

No… so brown… so blue.

Her hair is of gold…. Or as black as night.

I can’t remember.

I know her so perfectly. Every inch, every breath… of she who is not there.

I miss her.

I love her.

I dreamt of her again.

Wed, 01 Apr 2009 01:37:41 GMT

Journal of Sir Perego “Mordan” Kibosh,
Son of Iris Traptinker
First Knight of Coopra

Kibosh Journal
Entry - January 12th, 609
Hi hi!So… I’ve decided I need a journal. I need it to help keep track of what I need to do. And I need it to lay out my thoughts. And I need it to remind myself who I am and what I believe in.
Why? Cause I’ve bent way to much in the last year. I’ve compromised what I believe. And I realize now, that’s not what I want to do. This idea of the “Greater Good” makes no sense to me. Good is good. If you do good things, good things will happen. If you do bad things, bad things will happen. It’s simple.
So I must make amends. Never again will I ask a life elemental, or anyone else, to sacrifice themselves to cover for our mistakes. Never again will I let someone kill something I know to be good, just because of the law or convenience. Never again will I stand by and let Sir Brock or anyone else torture someone for information. It’s wrong, and I won’t allow it.

Kibosh Journal
Entry - February 14th, 609
Did you know that slow burning fuse and fast burning fuse look exactly the same when not in their respective boxes? I didn’t.
~this page is very scorched around the edges~

Kibosh Journal
Entry - March 30th, 609
So, am back from the Ashton Market day. It was kind of… well… yeah.
I’ve got so many different thoughts floating around in my head, I want to try to get them down and separated.
I met up with Charlie and Dozy again. It’s good to see them, but… it brings up a feeling I get when I’m around them. It’s a feeling I sometimes get when I’m back at the Hobling Village. Charlie chastised me, again, for being “brave.” Then we got into an argument about how things are done. He wanted to Love 9 a barbarian to stop a barbarian fight, and I didn’t think that was… ya know… right. He told me as long as the fighting stops, who cares how it was done? I’ve noticed a lot of the other hoblings are like that to. However, to me, it makes no sense. Doing something evil in order to accomplish something good just seems completely backwards. You can’t make good out of evil deeds. You just can’t.
At least… that’s what I believe. That’s how my momma taught me. It just seems very few, if any other hoblings, believe that way. It makes me feel… different from the other hoblings. Apart from them. Alone. And that makes me kinda sad.
It other news, Elle is having a baby! I dunno how or why, but she is! It makes her slow and tired, but that’s ok. I stuck around to keep her safe. And promise, on my knightly honor, to continue to do so whenever possible. I’ll do my best to make sure her and her baby are ok.
In knightly news, Tordex died. No one came to find me when Sir Alrion came to visit. I’m a little grumpy about both those notes, but I’ll get over it.
I’m making myself new armor for when I go a knighting. I think it’ll be helpful for when I have to fight on the front lines, like I had to versus the yetis and ice elementals. I had decided not to fight the dragon at the top of Frost Herald’s mountain, cause I didn’t know how Coopra would take it. The last thing I need is to start some sort of friggin’ dragon war on accident.

Kibosh Journal
Entry - April 1st, 609
Yay! Happy birthday to meeee. Happy birthday to meeee. Happy birthday to meeeeee!
Am off to my mom’s house for cake. Huzzah!

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 05:08:00 GMT

Acompa’s Travel Log: Number Three

Or

Something Worse than Metal Demons

Or

Night of the Living Clones

Entry 1

Things have been rather quiet in the Jeb-bi Cave since we returned. Things have settled into an odd sort of routine. The Jeb-bi seem to rush around here and there, with their warriors in white. I thought the Warriors in White were demons at first, but it turns out they only wear the skins of them. They and the Jeb-bi mostly ignore me, so I am left to my own studies and teachings.

I continue to hold great hope for my young apprentice, Saji. His grasp of my language is amazingly quick… but not completely infallible. He seems to continue to announce to me that he is a female, however I am almost certain he is male of his species. None the less, it is communication, and thus very helpful. However, his grasp of the bow and arrow leaves… something to be desired. I fear, however, this is my fault. He has more fingers than I do, and thus it is hard to show him exactly how it is done. I shall work on this, and strive to be a better teacher to him.

All in all, things are quiet here. Still… I have this lingering doubt. It’s hard to explain, it’s just a feeling. Like before a storm comes in. You can’t see it, but you know it is on it’s way. I am unable to ask the Jeb-bi if they feel it to, though all of them seem… edgier than usual. I don’t quite know what that means though. They are a high strung group, for the most part. This may be normal.

The only acceptation is the small green shaman. He seems… sad. I have sought to follow him around a little, in case he needed protection. I have even gone so far to ask Kyee if I should follow him closer. He might need the support, after all. She seemed not to want me to do this, however. I feel off about leaving the poor old shaman alone, but I will respect Kyee’s wishes… for now.

Entry 2

The ill feeling I have been getting is stronger than ever. It’s almost impossible to ignore now. I was about to go out hunting for what is giving me this feeling, when the Jeb-bi’s cave began making squawking alarm noises. Kyee came to find me, and gestured for me to bring my weapons. We went to the central part of the cave, where almost every single Jeb-bi had assembled. Was this a huge hunting party?

Suddenly a metal bird appeared in the sky and landed in the cave. From out it, I saw the apparent source of my ill feelings. A man. Tall, old. A feeling of bad mojo about him. He had grey fur upon his face, and dressed in brown robes. I didn’t like the look of him at all. Apparently neither did any of the Jeb-bi.

I motioned to Kyee if she wished me to launch an arrow at him, but she waved me down. So I waited.

The little green shaman and the Wow-du follow took the man in brown to their chambers, and there they stayed for quite awhile.

I listened to the other Jeb-bi for awhile, but nothing really seemed to happen. I managed to catch the name of the man in brown. They were calling him Count Du-cow.

I grew bored waiting, and retreated into the caves. After awhile, the feeling of bad mojo faded, and things got back to normal.

Though the Jeb-bi seemed to go on being more agitated than before, if that’s possible.

Entry 3

A day or two after, Kyee gathered her hunting party together, and into Joon’s metal bird we went. Once more, off we flew to… well somewhere.

Where we landed was not a great place, but it was a hundred times better than Coruscant or Narshana. Where ever we were, it must have been winter. It was dark and snowy everywhere. Show was up to my chest. I’m trained to survive such harsh climates though, by my father. Even so, the cloaks and items that the Jeb-bi had given me helped ward off the cold as well.

Kyee seemed to be looking for something, so I scouted around. I could smell an animal on the wind, but I could not smell blood. Thus I was uncertain if it was a predator or not. Apparently the rest of the party’s noses aren’t so keen, because none of them seemed to notice it. So while they were rummaging around some rocks, I went out in search of it.

I found it. It was some grey creature, that had short arms, but stood on two legs. It seemed calm for a moment, but then it lowered it’s head and roared at me. It had the high ground, so I made a hasty retreat back to Joon’s bird. Apparently the others had found something too, because they were doing the same thing, and the metal bird took off very quickly once we were aboard.

We didn’t go very far, because we landed soon, near a cave. All of us, except Joon, went out of the bird into said cave, but it wasn’t a cave when we got in. It was all metal. It smelled old, musky, but wasn’t nearly as dusty as it should have been. I found some metal demon tracks, as well as some hu-mon tracks, going down two different tunnels, so the hunting party split up and went down both tunnels.

I went with the one called Thon. He and I rarely work together. It is harder for me to understand him, than it is with the others. I am uncertain what he even does, however, we were together now so I was determined to make the best of it.

We rounded a dark corner, and down the hallway, we found a group of three of the Warriors in White. I’m not certain why they were there. Thon made a greeting sound to them… and the Warriors… lifted their magic wands and fired at us!

Quickly I shot back with my magic wand, but it didn’t seem to harm them at all. It was then I noticed Thon’s magic wand. His was much bigger than mine. In fact, the hole thing was almost as big as my whole body. He aimed it and fired it down the hall at the Warriors. It made such a huge boom, and it’s magic bolt struck one of the Warriors square in the chest, leaving a HUGE gaping hole. A wound that should have killed anything.

And yet… the Warrior merely stood there, and began shambling towards us, firing at us again.

It was then that Thon and I truly began to communicate. We looked at each other, looked at the Warrior that should be dead but isn’t…. looked at each other… and decided to retreat as quickly as possible.

After getting away, we regrouped with the others, who had apparently found what they were looking for. Varan had cut a hole in the floor with his light stick, and was picking up a man who looked very sick. It smelled very bad, and the man was covered in this green… goo.

We returned to Joon’s bird… but for some reason he would not let us inside the bird. He let us all in side one room of it. The “air look” room. Where we all had to say. I’m can’t say I enjoyed this mode of travel very well, as Varin gives me a bad feeling sometimes, but I settled into meditation to wait it out.

Entry 4

We finally landed back on Coruscant, but not at the Jeb-bi cave. Where Warriors in White separated us all. I, having just been attacked by said Warriors, wasn’t about to be taken down without a fight. I managed to stab one with my spear, but the rest all fired upon me with their magic wands. And I fell unconscious.

-------

I awoke some time later, though I’m not sure how long. I was alone in a room. They had tied my hands together again, but I have learned from all the other times they have done this to me. After much wiggling, I freed myself. And when the Warriors in White were not watching, I snuck away.

Which leaves me alone, on Corusant. Without any friends, or any of my gear. As I said, however. I’m a hunter. A survivor. Taught by my father, the chief of our tribe. I can get by, if I need.

After obtaining a magic wand off the hip of a passer by, I followed the sun. After nearly half a day, I found myself outside the Jeb-bi cave.

And I was at a loss for what I found. As it was entirely surrounded by metal demons and Warriors in White. They were not letting anyone in, and I could not tell if there was anyone inside.

It was then I felt Kyee’s presence in my mind. She wanted to know where I was, so I showed her. After some odd feeling of shock from her, I questioned if she wanted me to go inside. She only said “Danger”. So I settled to wait.

I circled the cave, several times, pondering what to do. Saji and the old green shaman might be inside and in danger. At last, I found the best way to get inside.

And the best way… wasn’t very good at all.

The Jeb-bi cave is actually the inside of a mountain sort of thing. It is smooth and straight and very very tall. Taller than many of the mountains of my homeland. One side of said mountain, is where the metal birds land at the top. No metal demons or Warriors in White were watching that side. Why would they? It’d be madness to climb up it.

It was the only shot I had though. I have heard stories of my ancestors climbing such mountains on personal journeys. Or to save a loved one from Duloks. If I had the blessings of my ancestors to do this, as well as the strength of the Great Spirit… I might be able to do this. Maybe.

I can not fear it though. Fear is the trail to the corruption of the warriors heart. There is no fail. There is no try. Only victory.

So after an hour of meditation and pray to the spirits… I began my accent.

Not looking down, not looking up, I made my way up. After awhile, the winds of the planet began to buffet me, and I had to dig my claws in not to get blown off the mountain. A few times my hand slipped. Once or twice I thought my arms would give out. My mind was growing numb from the strain of it all. Once, I dared glance up… and I could see the top.

Which was when the wind picked up in a huge gust, and I almost fell. Almost.

At long last, I pulled my self up. I was in the nest of the metal birds, at the top of the Jeb-bi cave. I’d made it.

I hid myself to rest for awhile. I called out to Kyee, to tell her of my deeds. To question what she wished me to do once I was in her enemy besieged home.

But she only seemed angry with me.

So I was on my own.

First, I snuck down to my tree and obtained what belongings I had stashed there. Then I snuck to Saji’s room. I did not find him, so I collected some of his things, his scrolls and his light stick, and moved on.

I found people in the great learning chamber of the Jeb-bi, but they were not friends. I watched them for awhile, then moved on.

I went to the room where the elders sometimes stay, but did not find the old green shaman or any of his other elders. I allowed myself a moment of bravado, however, and sat in Wow-do’s chair for awhile. Then I got board and moved on.

With my mind, I sent Joon a message. I waited for him where the birds land. And after awhile, his bird came by and picked me up.

I hugged his leg in thanks, ate something, and then went to rest.

So very tired.

I am uncertain what to do now. I don’t trust the metal demons nor the Warriors in White. Kyee and the others, except for Joon, seem angry with me, which is distressing. Saji is no where to be found. We are flying towards somewhere. Joon tells me there are trees there.

I shall go to the trees and meditate. Give thanks to the Great Spirit. And perhaps, I will practice with Saji’s light stick. It might be good to know how to use, in our future hunts. Especially if I am left alone again.

For now, however, I am so very tired. And must sleep.

Sun, 08 Feb 2009 00:04:03 GMT

Epilogue

January 1st, 2009
Happy Fuckin’ New Year. Another year, another bar. Same… old… crap. Here I am, your good buddy, Rob “Stalker Gangrel” Hopper. Slouched in a booth in some bar, an untouched mug of beer sitting in front of me. I got a good buzz going, despite the glass. Fed off a drunk earlier, and I’m in a nice hazy, none the less surly mood.

I sit here, like I usually do, and I’m wondering what the fuck to do with my unlife… as usual.

Shit, things were never simple, but it was never this fucked up. I dunno where to go or what to do. I’m in someone else’s nicely fenced off back yard everywhere I go. This Prince is pissed off at that Prince. This elder wants me to do that lame job. They all want me to sit up and be good, like a nice hunting dog.

Fuck that. I’m on no body’s leash. Not hers. Not anyone’s!

So I’m, like… a third of the way through that rant, when I realize I have company. I dunno how he got there, how I missed, him, but there he was. Some blond haired little boy. Couldn’t be but ten years old or so. Sitting in the both at me, looking at me. I dunno what a kid is doing in a bar, but this is creepy. Even for me.

So this kid, just ups and starts a conversation with me, outta no wheres. Now I’m a little drunk, but I know I’m probably not talkin’ to just any normal kid. But he don’t smell like any kindred I ever smelled, so I don’t know what to make of him. Not one of us, not one of them. So… bah. Whatever.

He starts askin’ me all these questions. Not like… about what I am or anything, so we’re not in breach of that damn masquerade thing or what have you. He starts asking me about wanting things. New Years resolutions n’stuff. That if you want something, how should you go about getting it?

Well.. Those are some odd questions. I about tell him to shove off… but his questions get me to rememberin’ something.

A rose in the trash.

Ya know? I’ve been all wrong headed about things lately. Sittin’ in this bar ain’t gonna get me anywhere. I used to take what I want. I used to fight for what I believed in. So I tell the kid as much. “If ya want something’, kid, ya gotta shake off anything tryin’ to stop you. Do everything you can to get it.” And with that, I left the kid there. Dunno if that’s what the kid wanted to hear or not, but it’s what I needed to say.

I’m heading out west. I’m gonna see the Pacific Ocean again. I’m gonna find that big guy again and either make a friend or finish our fight. I’m gonna go find my shire and kick her teeth in… or fuck her silly. Or both!

I’m gonna go see that horizon. Hit me with your best shot, world. Ol’Rob can take it.

Diary of Ukall Sabian - January 15th
This winter just sucks. It’s like it’s sucked all the life out of this town. Not like it had much to begin with.

I look around, not really seeing much around to make me happy. Endless attacks from the sewer spirits have made the clubs almost unbearable. If that hasn’t killed the club scene, the snow and ice sure have.

Momma asked me a question the other night., while we were discussing finding a pack. “Is there anyone in this town you really trust?” She asked me… and I really had to stop and think about that. In truth? I couldn’t really think of a single name. Not one. That’s kind of sad.

Momma and Vera seem to think so to. So… after a long talk, we’re moving. Out west some where, I think. Someplace warmer. I haven’t yet conned Vera into saying we’re going all the way to California, but I’m going to keep trying. Vera doesn’t seem to like the idea of California, but she won’t really say why. I just think it would be neat to see the ocean. San Francisco, I think. That would be most neat.

So, this will be my last diary entry in Columbus. I’ll write again from our new home, wherever Rose and Vera decide to make it.

Farther from our old pack. Farther from the monsters. Farther from that bridge. Farther from everything.

A new start. It’s very exciting. And kind of scary too.

Hugs and kisses,
Ukall

Wiki-man: Encrypted Journal Entry #349
I’m at a loss lately. I think I’ve outsmarted myself. Or been duped. Or, more likely, both.

When I look around without eyes hazed by magicks, I see so many possibilities. So many maybes. So many possible threats. So many possible slights. So many mistakes. Regrets. Sometimes I feel like the world is mine. And sometimes I feel like I’m assailed with the slings and arrows of what might be. I just can’t figure out what is true and what is not. What is real and what is just made up in my own paranoid mind.

When I add mana vision to my sight, it only makes it that much worse.

I broke my own code. I knew it would happen, but they asked me to but I did. For the “greater good.” I know better. I’m a student of Greek Mythology, for crying out loud. I know the myths of Cassandra and the prophets by heart. Whenever you look into the future, you cause your own downfall. It happens every time.

Yet they asked me to, for “the good of the city” and I caved in, cause I’m a good little boy scout. Some scarred little kid hoping for the approval of the popular crowd. So I did it for a good cause. And then I was tempted to do it for my own causes.

I wanted to know if me and…. her ever really had a chance? If we had a future. You know, together. However, apparently I lost that future somewhere last year. I have no idea what I did to loose that chance, but I’ve little doubt it’s my fault.

So how about Nightshade? What does she look like in 6 years when she’s legal? I peeked. And God, she’ll be so beautiful. So goth and glorious.

And she and I have no future either. At least that’s what my visions tell me.

I see my self. At age 90. Alone. No wife. No children. Alone in some home some where. Slowly losing my mind and my memories. That’s what fate and time have in store for me, as things go. Not something I really look forward to. However, the alternative is much more scary.

So here I am. Wondering what to do with my life now. I’ve no friend or ally among the Mages. I’ve no contact among other supernaturals. And I’ll never be one of the “regular folk”. Not anymore. But I can pretend I am. I can put away these cards and these books and never spend another drop of mana. I can pretend I’m not a mage, and never cast a spell ever again. Maybe then, my life will conform… and I can be a regular person again.

Maybe.

Though… I wonder. K.I.P. Please look up any information you can find on…. Banishers.

The Columbus Dispatch: Headline - March 1st, 2009
OSU Dorm Site of Disturbing Murder

Columbus police were called to Siebert Hall, dormitory on OSU campus Saturday night. What they found when they arrived defies rational explanation.

22 year old, track star and OSU student, Ben Rodgers, was found dead on arrival, the apparent victim of a brutal stabbing in his own dorm room. The killer? Still in the room, sitting on the victims own bed, trying on the victim’s clothing.

Even more disturbing? The murderer appears to be a 10 year old child.

Columbus police could not be contacted for comment, but several OSU students witnessed the police taking the unidentified minor away. Multiple witnesses state they were able to hear the child giggling the phrase “Tomorrow is my birthday, I got what I want.”

More details of this tragic scene as they become available.

Fae Nights: Colby

Wed, 04 Feb 2009 22:52:15 GMT

Hi! My name is Colby Moorebright. And I want to tell you about something awesome in my world.

Well… first I guess I should tell you about me. Then you can understand why the something awesome is so very awesome. Where should I start? Hmm. Well… my name is Colby. I said that already, didn’t I? Well good. We’ve at least been introduced.

I’m about 18. Which is legal! I have tannish hair, and I’m very small. I’m not like a midget or anything, but I’m still small. Kinda skinny. Always have been. Momma said it was cause I was born to early. She always seemed rather apologetic about that, though I’m not overly sure why. It’s not her fault or anything. Things just happen. Even if it was her fault, I forgive her. Cause she’s my momma and I love her anyway.

She’s not with me anymore, though. She died, or passed away. Whatever you want to call it. It’s ok, you don’t have to be sad, it was awhile ago. When I was about eight. My uncle, her brother, said she “fell off the wagon.” I’m not overly sure what that means, but I know what really happened. She OD’ed on some drugs. I’m sure she didn’t mean to do that, and I forgive her of that too.

Where was I? Oh yes! The awesome something in my world. Not yet though.

Not long after momma left, something special happened. I popped. See, I was very sad about momma, but while I was in the hospital while she was sick, I found some other kids whose mothers and fathers were sick, or some of them were sick to. I tried to cheer them up, went and made friends. I found that trying to cheer other people up, made me feel not so sad too. Apparently that’s a good thing to know, because while do thing, I remembered, I used to be fae. Because of that, I became fae again.

See, we fae live lots of lives. We reincarnate through the years. Centuries even. Sometimes we remember stuff about our past lives, sometimes not. I do a little. I remember being a noble, once. Lord Moorebright, I think. See, I’m even different from most other fae, as I always reincarnate into my own family line. So I’m like my own great great grandfather a couple of times. Which is weird. I wonder if that’s why I’m so small. But anyway.

We’re almost to the awesome something part. Just a little more.

I’m a type of fae called a satyr. We have goat horns and hoofed feet. And we like to dance and make music. That’s when I’m happiest, when there’s lots of music and dancing all around me. That’s why I like this club downtown that I found. It’s an awesome place (but it’s not the awesome something I was talking about). It has so much rocking glow, about it. The music is fast and loud, and everyone seems to have a good time there. Everyone is very friendly. Well… almost everyone. Sometimes one of the drunk frat house from the college down the street shows up. They are a very rough crowd. They have a very angry dance about them, and are prone to hurt anyone that gets in the middle of them. Without realizing it, sometimes I end up in the middle of them, and it’s very easy for them to really hurt someone as small as me.

Yep! This is where the awesome something shows up.

See the awesome something is a person. A girl in fact. Her name is Mercedes, but I call her Mercy. She’s a troll, which means she’s fae to, but a different type of fae than me. She’s huge! She’s like… three of me tall. Her skin is the most glorious shade of icy blue. She has pretty blonde hair she usually keeps in a really long braid. So long I could almost climb up her back with it (not that I’d really try.) Mercy’s big and so very, very strong. She must work out, but I don’t know what gym she goes to yet.

Anyway, when those frat guys roughed me up in the middle of the dance floor… Mercy came wading through the crowd, and picked me out of the trouble. She picked me up like I weighed nothing, but her hands were so soft and gentle. She saved me. And that’s when, I think, I fell in love with her.

See, Mercy uber strong. She could easily break someone in half. But she won’t. She’s got these soft grey eyes, and she almost never smiles. I began watching her after that, and I discovered why. She’s so worried at all times she’s gonna hurt someone, she’s so big and strong. I mean, she’s the bouncer of the club, so she’s here to protect us all, but it seems what she’s really trying to protect us from is her.

Which is silly, but I haven’t convinced her of that yet.

She’s so sweet and tender, but she keeps trying to hide that fact. She can’t from me though. I once caught her stopping a whole dance just so she could pick up a little mouse before it got stepped on and shoo it out the door. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless she’s mad. Which was why she was in such a panic when she through that one frat guy out a window.

See, he had this girl pinned down, and was probably gonna do something bad. Mercy stopped him, and flying out the window he went. Then she was so panicked she’d hurt him, no matter how much the guy deserved it. He was ok, though, but he never came back. Which is fine by me.

Mercy felt so bad about it though. I tried to cheer her up about it. Still am.

Mercy’s so awesome. Maybe I can make her smile for me someday. I keep trying to tug her out on the dance floor to dance with me, but she hasn’t yet. She seems always in a tizzy that she’s so big she’ll hurt me, but I know she won’t. My Mercy’s to tender for that.

So that’s my awesome something. She’s over there right now, watching out for us all. I think I’ll go ask her to dance again. She’ll probably say no, but that’s ok. Just being around her makes me happy. Maybe I can make her happy to.

So… lata! Thanks for listening.

Acompa‘s Travel Log: Part Deux

Mon, 02 Feb 2009 21:54:59 GMT

Acompa‘s Travel Log: Part Deux

Or

The Strike Back of the Droid Menace Wars

Or

You Stabbed Him WHERE?!?!

Entry 1

So I have set up a temporary home in a grove of Soul Trees, the only such grove I’ve yet to find on this retched place called Coruscant. It is in the giant cave that serves as the village of the Jeb-by people, whom Key seems to belong to. It seems to be a village of war chiefs and shamans, with very few hunters or care givers. It is a wonder they get anything done this way, but it seems impolite to question their methods.

One of their smaller shamans has taken a liking to me, for whatever reason. He calls himself Saji.
He is a friendly sort, if not exceedingly jittery. I like him, but he talks over much. The other shamans seem to ignore him, so I’ve taken him under my wing and began to teach him the ways of the world, like hunting. He is much like a tall, furless wokling, after all. If he trains well, I shall give him his hunter’s hood.

Speaking of the hunter’s hood, I’ve had to remake mine. My old one was burned by an attack by the evil metal demons. However the Jeb-by have replaced my hunting weaponry, given me one of their smaller magic wands, and some other “things”. So after making sure none of these things were cursed by the metal demons, I fashioned one of what Saji called a cloak into a new hunter’s hood. It won’t blend very well in real forest terrain, but it seems to do well enough in these metal demon worlds.

Key comes to visit me every so often. She seems to continue to try to communicate with me, but just doesn’t seem to grasp what I’m saying yet. I hold out hope for her, however. She seems a tad more clever than the rest. I’ve decided she will be my war chief while I am here.

So for now, I will continue to guard these Soul Trees, and wait for Key’s next hunt.

Entry 2

Key has gathered her hunters, and we have all gathered in the metal bird that June seems to control. I have once again taken up position in my next up in the metal branches inside the bird, and watch the group work. We’ve added another shaman to the group, but he seems to ignore me, much like the rest. Which is just as well, he seems part metal demon himself.

As we traveled, we were again attacked by other metal demons. And as before, the hunting group seems to do things with the bird to fend off the attack. This time, however, Key came and took me to a spot in the bird to watch what they were doing, trying to show me how to do something. I watched and listened as best I could. Finally, I decided that she wanted me to press one of the brightly colored buttons on the table ahead of me. I did so, and there was much commotion and yelling. Unsure of whether it was good or not, this hunting group is always yelling about something or other, I decided to head back to my nest for a nap.

Entry 3

We have landed on a place that is much like Coruscant, only smells MUCH worse. This “Narshana”, as June calls it, smells awful. Like worse than the worst Dulok village I’ve ever been in. Great Spirits the smell.

Anyway, the party spoke with another party, and things seemed fine. When they left, Key became agitated, and followed after them. I followed her and the new shaman followed as well. So apparently these are what we hunted… though not the whole hunting party. Which seems to defeat the purpose of a hunting party, but whatever.

So we hunted the other hunting party, and cornered them in a cave. They were turning over a box to their metal demon masters, so a fight broke out. The new magic wand the Jeb-by gave me made quick work of the metal demons, I took one out with no assistance from the others. One of the ones we were hunting, a strangely dressed man with a lot of magic wands (even one that sprouted from his arm), tried to get passed me, however I stabbed up at him with my spear and defeated him with one blow. These “bounty hunters” are not very tough.

While I was pulling the head from the fallen metal demon I had killed as a battle trophy, Key and the new shaman investgated something in the back of the cave. However, apparently the new shaman angred some sort of large metal demon, and the back of the cave exploded. Key seemed ok though, and I had my battle trophy, so we returned to June’s metal bird.

Entry 4

Great Spirit, Heesh and Flitchee!! There’s a giant slug monster outside June’s Bird!

I refuse to go outside till it goes away. Re-fuse.

Entry 5

Unexpected success!! A break-thru even!

Key apparently can do the things Old Shaman Callatar was teaching me to do. Though her methods are… curious.

She took me aside for meditation, and then began showing me pictures of some distant land. A land, I got the impression from her, was her home. I have had mind visions before with the Old Shaman, but Key can apparently cause them without use of tribal totems or sweat lodge. I’m not sure what this means, but it does help me communicate with her better.

After some thought, I showed her in my mind my home. The forests and the village. Though I hid the sky from her. I don’t wish her metal demon masters to somehow learn of this and follow her visions back to my homeland. However, she seemed pleased with these revelations, so all seems well.

I am seeking to try to learn more about her shaman magics. Callatar once told me I had potential as a shaman. Perhaps I can learn from Key, since I’m so very far from the shaman teachers of home.

Entry 6

Key’s hunt has taken us to the den of the slug monster. However June and Key and the others seem to be conversing with it. Perhaps it’s a diplomatic mission between our tribe and the slug monster’s tribe. So I let them do the talking.

However, in the slug monster’s den, I found another Ewok!

She was a strange one, however. She was nearly 4 times as tall as me, and I could not quite understand her accent. She had a very pleasing smell, however. We conversed on weaponry for awhile. I showed her my bow and magic wand. While she showed me something very interesting. She had, somehow, combined both her bow and her magic wand into one big magic hunting bow. I must see if I can find one for myself.

However, Key’s hunt takes us elsewhere, so I bid farewell to my new friend, and continued on our journey.

Entry 7

Once again, Key’s hunt has lead us to an underground cave full of metal demons. I didn’t get to see the above ground, but June said something about a “dry radiation”, so I just concentrated on the hunt.

However, in a box, I found some pretty glowing red crystals. I took a sample for my trophy collection. It will look just fine between my defeated demon heads.

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 02:30:38 GMT

Acompa‘s Travel Log

Or

A Small Hunter’s Guide to the Galaxy

Or

I’m In Your Trilogy, Ruinin’ Your Franchises

Entry 1

My new hut is finally completed; I put the last branches upon the roof last night. I thank my ancestors for allowing its completion and for allowing my hunt to begin in earnest, for the betterment of the tribe.

I am a full two suns walk from the village. As yet, none of the girls have come to visit, or leave me gifts. This could mean non from our village miss my presence. Which I find distressing. However, it could also mean the village is busy bringing in stores for the coming winter, and none have yet had the chance. I hope that is so. I fret to think no one would miss me, nor appreciate my hunt. Either way, though, the hunt goes on.

Tomorrow I plan to venture out further than before, to see the limits of my hunting territory. I have my spear and my bow, and some other tools. This should be a grand adventure. I might, perhaps, venture out farther than any other Ewok from my village has yet gone yet.

Entry 2

On my travels, I have encountered a very large bird. It is nearly the size of a village! It sits very still on the ground, however, and has not moved in some time. I plan to investigate.

…

Upon closer inspection, it turns out it is not a bird at all, but some very large cart. It is made of some sort of very shiny rock, or perhaps even metal. Though I have never seen that much metal in one place before. There seems to be some sort of door on the underbelly of this “metal cart bird.” Perhaps whoever dwells within can enlighten me upon this creature.

Entry 3

While I was investigating inside the bird, it began to fly! I hid amongst some square eggs inside the bird, while it flew. I grew hungry, and dared crack some of the eggs for food, but found none inside. There were some things that smelled like food, but were not. As well as some metal wands. Perhaps these people are shamans. Once this bird stops flying, I will go outside and try to contact them.

I hope it does not fly too far.

Entry 4

Something is terribly wrong. When the bird landed and I went outside, everything was all… different. The trees and hills were completely unfamiliar. Even the stars were arranged all wrong.

I tried to contact the shamans of the ship, but to little avail. Before I could get much more information, the bird flew away!

After a bit of traveling, I found another “metal bird”. Perhaps this one will take me home.

Entry 5

I met tall, horned people today. I thought them friendly… but they have done… terrible things.

These tall people are savages. Perhaps worse than any Dulok I have ever fought.

I… don’t wish to speak of it any more.

Entry 6

The horned savages left me somewhere, and again everything was all wrong. Stars and all. This was a more jungle area, however, so it wasn’t hard for me to find food and shelter. I am still so very far from home.

With the stars and mountains unfamiliar, I have found myself in the need to practice the ways of the shaman. Old shaman Callatar taught me, in the lessons I paid attention to, how to “feel” the world around me. How to open myself up to the voices of the Great Spirit, and the life forces of things around me. I’m finding myself having to rely upon that sense, more and more, to find my way around.

These senses, and blind luck, have led me to yet another metal bird. I am reluctant to try again, but these birds may be my only way to return home, so I must risk it.

Entry 7

Attempts to create a camp fire inside this metal bird were…. Thwarted. But I met two new savages. These two did not have horns, but the female has a pair of tails… on the back of her head?! The two appear to be mates, of some sort. They seem very jittery, but without fur, I can only assume they are cold all the time. So that explains that.

The female, who I’ve learned calls herself “Key”, seems to be in charge. The male, “June”, is more of her servant, and by some trick, mine. He will get me food whenever I ask. These two savages seem friendly enough, though attempts to communicate with them have thus far failed.

Nice, but not to bright.

Entry 8

Day 3 of my captivity. Key and June have taken me to a horrible place. There are no trees ore plants or mountains or water anywhere! This whole place is dead! I do not believe Key and June meant for this to happen. I was taken from them by metal demons!

Horrible things with no faces. Made of metal. They walk around and chirp bird noises. All the tall people around here seem to worship them. Or perhaps they are their slaves. Perhaps they tricked Key and June into this. Or they were fooled by a tall male, with no fur and dark skin. This “Wowdo” destroyed my family bow with one swing of some sort of violet magic wand. They have taken me away and placed me in a small room.

Attempts to communicate thus far have been sketchy at best. I refuse to speak with these metal demons. I will not allow them to taint me with their lies.

Entry 9

I have been allowed to return to Key and June. They have apparently formed some sort of hunting party, and I was allowed to join it. After another trip on the metal bird, I found what we were hunting. Metal demons.

Strange that metal demons should sent us to fight other metal demons. Perhaps the metal demon tribes are at war over something. Key’s hunting party is very strange, but so far so good.

I’m having difficulty hunting the metal demons properly. I obtained one of the smaller metal magic wands from one of the furless savages. So far, it has been fairly effective against the metal demons, but not completely so. I must train to hunt them better.

Entry 10

After several hunts, we have returned to this

After several hunts, we have returned to this evil place, this “Coruscant”. The savages seemed to have sacrificed all plant and animal life here to their metal demons. Except for a few small places. I have made a temporary home at the top of a tree in one such place. It is near where the ones called Key and June apparently stay.

I have learned that there are apparently two chiefs. This Wowdu, and a fur faced male named Oh-bi-un. Neither of them seem to smart. They have a shaman that is shorter than I am. And green, like some sort of frog. He seems nice enough, but is very old and weak. If I find he is an ally, I will have to keep him safe. He seems helpless on his own.

I continue to attempt communication with these savages. Not all of them are bad, I believe. However, my must be weary. I long for the skies and forests of home, but I must not lead these savages back there. They must not bring their wars or their metal demons back to Endor. I must do all I can to keep that from happening.

Even if that means I might never go home again.

If so, I will continue the hunt, seek new trophies, and continue to honor the land and my ancestors and the Great Spirit. I hope they can hear me, even so far from my life tree.

So for now, I say the hunt goes on. And long live freedom.

Ashton: Phrases that Payes

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 23:59:16 GMT

“Monsters are people too.”

“So rare, it’s a god damn super power.”

“Where’s Hedgehog?”
“I… don’t… care!”

"He's going to point Vivi out the window and squeeze... like a pee pistol! Phrase that Pays has come full circle!!"

Travels

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 04:36:59 GMT

Twilight.

The sun dipping below the distant horizon sends the sky awash with prismatic beauty. Soon to fade from blue to black, with each little star peaking through the darkness one by one.

Twinkling stars that were mirrored among the tree tops. A tiny shape, no more than a hand high, buzzes its way through the forest. It trails behind it a shimmering line of sparkles, winking in and out as the shape deftly flies its way among the branches and leaves. A closer look would note the shape is, in fact, a little girl. Small and lithe, with long white hair, striped with black, like a tiger. A pair of shimmering pink wings holding her aloft as she moves. Her small feline tail, waving lazily behind her.

Her silver eyes were intent on her destination. Tonight, Kath Felinesound had somewhere to be.

Up ahead was a small farming town, surrounded by a protective, stone wall. At the south gate, a teenage boy sits atop the wall, watching out over the forest. He is a slender boy, with sandy blond hair. To pass the time, he twirls a metallic staff between his fingers, occasionally tossing it up in the air, only to easy catch it once more. This stops, however, when he notes the line of sparkles moving towards him.

Heath Hammerhand holds his hand out, for the little fae-line to land upon. “Good evening, Kath,” he said softly, but with a warm smile. “How was your flight?”

The little silver eyed girl grins, tucking her wind swept hair back behind a pointed ear. “It was good. A pair of hawks thought they’d found a nice meal, but I scared them off.” She giggled merrily, but soon she turned serious. “Do you sense it?”

Heath sat back and sighed thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. I sense something. It’s like how I can tell where you are… but… it’s not you.” He was silent for a moment, and then he tilted his head and looked at her. “It’s almost like…”

“Another Traveler,” she finished for him. Both fell silent, looking up at the stars. “Do you think Uncle Spencer and Aunt Sheryl sense it too?”

Heath shrugged a little. Moving to set the little pixie girl down so he could rest his arm. “Maybe. Just because they don’t have their keys anymore, doesn’t mean they can’t tell what’s going on. They’re both fairly quick. Always have been.”

Kath nodded. “We should investigate. I don’t think whoever it is has fully realized what he or she has yet. Like they’re just waking up.”

Heath nodded in agreement. “Should we take Sheryl and Spencer with us?”

Kath bit her lower lip and hesitated. “No. I… I don’t think so. Spencer is still grieving. With what happened to Auntie Storm…” She trailed off, her eyes glancing down sadly.

Heath sighed, “And Sheryl rarely comes out of her mountains anymore.”

Kath stood, dusting off her small red dress, as he looked up to him. “No, they left this in our hands. We need to take care of it, our way.”

“I guess so,” Heath chuckled. “We should be careful though. We’ll go find this… whoever it is, and watch. We don’t want to interfere unless we have to.” Heath looked up at the rising moon, thoughtful. “Wow. Think of it, Kath. A third Traveler. One of us hasn’t awoken in… what…”

“Almost a decade. It’s just been you and me.” Kath’s wings buzzed softly, lifting her up to eye level with the boy. “I’m so curious! Let’s go see!”

Heath had to laugh, as he nodded. He gathered up his pack and his staff, as he hopped down from the high wall. The little sparkle of the fae-line followed him as his feet touch the dusty road. “Let’s go see our new brother or sister.”

The two started down the road together… and in a few steps… they were gone. Slipped between the spaces between worlds. Between universes.

The Travelers were on the move again. On their way… to a place called Tyrra.

Quickie Stories: What if we were heroes...

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 05:22:08 GMT

A clear sky of blue and white High above the dusty river town of Wheeling, West Virginia. Up in the fluffy clouds of a warm spring day.

“Was in the spring, then spring became the summer, who’da believed you’d come along…”

A slim streak of violet and yellow makes it’s way across the skyline, skimming the clouds, riding the gentle breeze. This city only has two heroes of it’s own, and he is one. Neo-Star. Wingless wonder of the skies. A suite of purple and silver, emblazed with a golden star upon his slender chest. A long amber pilot’s scarf flutters as he flies, his face hidden in a faceless mask. The gleam of his amber goggles catches the sun as he watches the world below for trouble. Flying without a sound… save for a song.

“Haaanndd… touching hands, reaching out… holding meee… holding yoooouu… Sweeet Ca.. *~TZZTTT~*”

“Gah!” The slender hero skids to a stop, hovering in the air, as he shakes his head at the static cutting into his ear radio. “Ow. Anyway, yeah ‘T’, what’s up?”

There is a soft giggle across the radio. “You are.”

Neo-star taps his foot in the air and chuckles, “I know that, what’cha need?”

“There’s a possible scaffolding collapse near the coal plant. No one hurt, but lots of workers stuck up on a ledge. Seems like up your ally.”

“On it, ‘T’” As the young hero switches directions and begins to fly south, following the river line below him.

“After that,” the voice continues, “Come back to base, dinner’s almost ready.”

“Rodger that. Do you have enough food? Remember The Bear is coming over to night.”

“Yeah yeah, I remembered. I think I got enough. If not, you can fly out for pizza again.”

He chuckled behind his mask, “True enough. Will be home soon.” There is a short pause as he begins his descent downward through the clouds. “Love ya, babe.”

He could almost here the voice on the radio smile. “Back at’cha, fly boy. Be careful. Come home safe.”

Neo-star turned the radio off, spotting the coal plant about a half a mile ahead. Time to focus. There were people who needed help. Days to be saved.

A city always finds work, for a hero.

WoD: Forsaken - Ukall

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 20:21:32 GMT

~* One night, and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so…. He tastes like you, only sweeter. *~

Shiny, light-blue, pleather pants… check.

Loose, fish-net over-shirt… check.

Black leather sandals… check.

Long, red hair brushed out a 100 strokes with a stiff toothed brush… check.

A bit of glitter at the corners of those big, green eyes… perfect!

It was around 10:30 by the time he made it to the dance hall. Drawn by the rhythmic thump, thump, thump of the techno music blasting inside. Drawn by the heat of body’s dancing inside. Drawn by the call of music and humanity and the moment.

On the dance floor, Ukall was finally at home.

The sight of the inside of the club is always dazzling. The flashing lights, puling from one color to the next. Red then blue, then together for purple. Yellow mixed, flashing green. The eerie yet alluring color of eyes made to glow by blacklight.

And the movement, the vibration, he could feel it in the very floor. The music thumped, shaking the packed house. But all the more, the feel of feet, of body’s, pulsing upon the wooden dance floor. The rhythm of them, all in time, all in sync. With the beat, and with each other. Even the smell was intoxicating, sweat and smoke and perfume and desire. All wrapped up into one neat little package called a club.

This is where I should be. This is where I always should be. This is the only place on earth were anything makes sense.

I take a moment to savor it, before moving forward. It’s much like plunging yourself into a pool… or a river. But instead of water and ice, you hit heat and music. There isn’t any thought to it. There is only movement. The dance.

I dance with her, because she’s soft and full of laughter.

I dance with him, because he’s warm and his arms are strong.

I dance with them, because them cause they are filled with joy.

These are my family, every one of them, even though I don’t know most of their names, and probably never will.

Mamma always said music was a part of us, and we a part of a great song. Vera always said home is where your heart is. Both are true of right here, and right now.

And before I know it, hours have slipped by like nothing. I used to dance till I was near exhaustion. Now, since things… changed, it’s much harder to do. I can dance for ever so much longer, but the world demands sleep eventually, and last call, last song, always comes.

I savor the last dance as well as I can. I linger a few kisses on a few willing lips. Then, I go. The echoes of the speakers still reverberating in my ears and in my mind, I leave this warm home, and hit the cold streets once more.

I shiver, as a snowflake falls, touching my cheek. Winter’s finally here, and I’m more than happy to see snow… but when I look to the sky, I see something else.

The moon.

Oh how I hate her. She, who claims to be my mother. But she’s not. She’s a monster, that made me into a monster. How I hate what she’s done.

Laughter though, laughter shakes me from thoughts of the hated moon, pulls me back to here, and now. To what matters. I watch a group of friends leave the club, giggling about some joke or story or another… and I smile again.

The clubs of Columbus have a wolf in their number, but that is ok. If a wolf makes a good shepard, who’s any to argue, hmm?

Besides… were else would this lonely, red head call home?

~* Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories. *~

Mystic Wood Elf Scribe

Thu, 29 Nov 2007 05:56:33 GMT

Frost was forming in the window, clouding up the smooth panes of glass. Icy crystals beginning to obscure his view of the outside world. Delayed for whatever reason, Winter was finally falling over the land. Nasim knew this winter would be quite long. And quite lonely.

He looked away from the frosty window, regarding the parchment before him. Comforting himself in the soft scratch, scratch, scratch sound of quill and ink. The last bit of paperwork for the night. A missive to a knight in a distant land. Business and personal inquiry. Nothing that would shake the course of a kingdom. He just wanted to know if one of the few friends he had left were still ok.

Nasim sighed, setting the quill aside, turning away from the desk. The desk she’d had made specially for him.

It’d a year and a month now. Since he lost her. Lost them. Failed them. It still hurt. Right in the pit of his heart.

He turned away and sighed again, reaching to tuck an errand bit of blond hair behind his right horn, back behind his delicately pointed ear. Looking around the dimly lit room, pondering what to do next. He’d cleaned, he’d straightened, he’d organized everything in the house… three times over, and it was only December. He’d need far more to occupy his mind this Winter. Lest he go mad.

Or perhaps more mad. He wondered sometimes. His thoughts frightened him sometimes. His dreams confused him. They were dreams that were not his own. They belong to someone else. Other people. Other times. Other places. They swirled at him in the night, begging to be recorded. Remembered.

He’d begun writing them down when he could remember them clear enough. Few made any sense to him, but that wasn’t the point. These stories needed to be remembered. As all stories did. They mattered. Especially now.

The world was growing dimmer. Darker. Colder. Those few strong enough to be called heroes were falling into darkness, one by one. To be replaced by no one. No souls of quality filled those shoes now. Nothing faced the oncoming rush of a cold future with any sort of pride and determination. Not now. That Age was over.

Perhaps it was a futile gesture, but Nasim continued to write these stories down. If what he feared was upon them was the truth, no one would ever read them. But again, that was not the point. To write them down, did honor to the stories, and those they were about. To remember them, even for a touch longer… made up a little bit for his own failures. Repaid the debt he owed… even just a little.

It kept him here. Kept him working. When in the darkest of nights, his heart screamed to end it all. His mind, numb from to much pain, sometimes simply wanted to be… not. No more. Go into that dying of the light. He refused, however. Not just yet.

It wouldn’t matter anyway. He wouldn’t see her again, even if he did. There was no Long Road waiting. At least not for him. There was no color to this world right now, but there was nothing but void on the other side of death. That’s what he believed, anyway. He’d once believed otherwise, but now…

He lifted his head, hearing a thump in the next room. And muffled laughter. The others must be back. That was good.

He looked back to the desk, the desk she’d had made for him. One more story done, one more for the rapidly growing stack of stories. He could write another… but not right now.

He spent a few moments cleaning the desk, straightening his quills, wiping up any spilled ink. It just wanting in him to leave an untidy desk. Till at last, he turned the light out, and headed into the next room.

He was glad he didn’t have to spend this Winter all alone. But even a hundred friends could not take the place of those he had failed.

He wouldn’t forget them. But nor, would he ever forgive himself for their passing.

This Winter would be long… and lonely.

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 07:14:50 GMT

Fear…

I feel it. It’s deep within me. It washes over me in an instant, welling up from my belly and over my mind.

So many things spark it. A show, a movie, a stray thought, a picture, a memory. Such tiny things, yet so many of them. So many of them lately. They aren’t the cause, more like an irritant that flairs up and already infected wound. Causes pain. Causes fear.

I pace the floor. Left… right. Frantically, like I want to run. I look around, I know my eyes must hold a hint of madness I can’t see. Hopefully no one else will see it either. No one’s around now. I don’t want anyone to see me, not like this. I’m looking for an exit. An escape. Some where, some direction to run. To flee this wretched feeling. But the feeling is within me, and I carry it with me where ever I go.

I want to scream, but I don’t want anyone to hear. I don’t want anyone to know… and yet I do. I want to go to someone… anyone. A warm hand, a warm embrace… something! I want to go and cry and weep and have them make it all better. But I won’t, I’ve no one to go to. And they can’t make it better.

Death. It’s coming. I know it. And I fear it. Not in the next moment, perhaps not soon, perhaps not till years, decades from now. But it’s coming. And the mere thought of it terrifies me.

What’s next? What happens? What’s after? What’s on the other side? On the great over there? I don’t know. No one knows. No one can answer. No one can stop it. And the fear of it drives me mad.

I pace. I want to run. But there is no where to run to. There. One moment past. One moment closer to it. There, another instant. Just an bit closer to it still. And endless flow of moments, drawing me closer to death. I can’t stop it. No matter how much I pace and scream and fear.

Perhaps when I’m older, when I’ve lived, it won’t seem so scary. Perhaps when I’m old, I will understand. But even that frightens me. Growing old. To know someday I might accept this thing that terrifies me to insanity now. To be someone else. To grow into some other person entirely. I fear that to.

I’m me. Despite my faults, I am comfortable with me. And to know I’ll change. And then one day… not exist at all. Never again. Blinked out to void. Nothing. I can’t stand it. Can’t stand the thought. And it starts all over again.

And there, another instant more closer to it. I can’t stand it. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to deal with this. This idea that some god some where is laughing. That this life is a joke, to be snuffed out at some time. That nothing I can do can stop it. Nothing. Nothing at all. Drawn ever closer to it by a force that can’t even be felt, much less understood.

Over and over again, the madness of this terror takes me. I tremble and I scream. But it won’t do any good. And that frightens me all the more. That nothing I do can change it. And that’s the biggest joke of all.

Fear of death is killing me.

And then it just starts all over again.

Fear…

WoD: Trifle

Wed, 17 Oct 2007 05:51:22 GMT

~~*~~~*~~
In a town in the woods at the top of a hill,
There’s a house where no one lives.
So you take a big bag of your big city money there and buy it.
Then at night when you’re all alone,
And the house is dark there’s a noise upstairs,
At the top of the stairs there’s a door so you take a deep breath and try it.
~~*~~~*~~

A movie theater, deep in the heart of the city, shortly before sundown. Perhaps not a haunted mansion on the hill, but more than a few monsters lurk here. Ghosts of the past, beasts of the present, hidden in the best hiding spot in the universe. Plain sight.

He stands there, off to the side. Barely given a second glance. A child. A boy, perhaps about ten years old, give or take. Short, mussy blond hair. Big blue eyes. The child glances around, as patrons enter and leave the theater. Occasionally he glances up to the marquee, reading the names of the movies. Tis so very odd to him. Things seem so familiar. “Transformers.“ “Nancy Drew.” “Underdog.” These were TV shows he sat and watched, not just yesterday.

Well.. It seemed like yesterday. He knew, bitterly, it was much longer than that. But it felt like yesterday. Damnit.

~~*~~~*~~
And the flashlight shines on something moving just inside the door,
There’s a tattered dress and a feeling that you’ve felt somewhere before .
~~*~~~*~~

The child shook his head and glanced at the people about him. They couldn’t see it. It was hidden from them. What he really was. His large blue eyes, almost always staring in expressionless calmness. The violet color that doted his cheeks. His skin of soft velvet. All hidden reminders of his stolen humanity. He was merely a doll, a lost toy. A forgotten Trifle.

Trifle. She’d named him Trifle, the first time she’d played with him. When she made him… like this.

To think of her, made the child shiver. He tried to push his mind away from such thoughts. Quickly. Something else to do. He needed a mark… and oh look. There’s one.

~~*~~~*~~
And there’s the creepy doll,
That always follows you.
It’s got a ruined eye,
That’s always open .
~~*~~~*~~

They made it always so easy. He merely stepped in line behind a tall man in a suite. The boy was so short, few really noticed him. And all he had to do was reach out his mitten like hand… and slide the man’s wallet out of his back pocket… and step out of line. Easy.

The blond haired boy smiled a touch as he riffled through the wallet. One… two… four.. five twenties. A hundred dollars. Good score and…

The boy sighed, finding a photograph. The man had a wife and three kids. They looked happy. Happy children, with loving parents. A moment, before the boy quietly cursed. Sliding only one twenty out of the wallet. Quickly writing something, then returning to the line and the man in the suite.

Later on in the night, the man would find himself short twenty dollars. However, he’d also find a note tucked away in his pocket. “Keep your wallet in your front pocket next time. Harder to nick.”

~~*~~~*~~
So you scream and you close the door,
And you tell yourself it was just a dream.
~~*~~~*~~

Trifle quietly cursed himself. He was getting soft. As soft as his plush form. And he hated that comparison. He quickly looked around for another mark… until his blue eyes fell upon… someone else.

And the boy just stopped breathing for a time.

He stared at a teen that had just walked out of the movie theater, with two pretty girls on his arms. The teen was probably about 19 or so, fresh out of high school. College awaiting him, no doubt. The teen had long blond hair, and bright blue eyes. One ear sporting a ring. A letter jacket, probably from achievements in high school track, adorned his shoulders like some great trophy.

The little boy stared at the teen… and hated him. Hated him with all his little heart and soul. Hate that almost appeared in his expressionless blue eyes…. Almost.

~~*~~~*~~
And there’s a creepy doll,
That always follows you.
It’s got a pretty mouth,
To swallow you whole.
~~*~~~*~~

Ben. That was the teen’s name. But it wasn’t. It was the boy’s name. The teen was just using it, but it wasn’t his. That life wasn’t his. It belonged to the boy. It was his… it used to be… it had once been. But now…

Trifle. She’d named him Trifle the first time she’d played with him. She’d taken that other name. And given it to this other person.

It made no sense. It wouldn’t make any sense. Not to him… or anyone else. The doll faced boy, however… hated.

~~*~~~*~~
And when you come home late, the doll is waiting up for you.
And when you fix a snack, the doll says it would like one too.
The doll is in your house and in your room and in your bed.
The doll is in your eyes and in your arms and in your head and you are crazy.
~~*~~~*~~

It would be so very easy. All the boy would have to do is slide one of his daggers out of his shoe. Just one. One dagger. One movement. It would fly through the air, and sink ever so nicely into the teen’s chest. And then maybe he’d be Ben again. And that jacket would be his. That life would be his.

It would be just so easy.

But then no one else would see it that way. They would only see a murder committed in a public place. See a small boy no one knew kill a teen everyone loved. And no matter how much he might protest that he was Ben, he would still be just a Trifle. No one would believe him.

Truly… he didn’t believe himself. The little blue eyed boy hadn’t been Ben so very long. Perhaps this teen was real… and this doll was really just that… a doll. And nothing more.

But still… it would be so very easy…

~~*~~~*~~
And there’s a creepy doll,
That always follows you.
~~*~~~*~~

“Hey there, little boy. Where’s your, mamma?”

Trifle was shaken from his dark thoughts by a deep voice. He lifted his little hand and brushed his blond hair from his eyes, looking up. The voice came from a man. Dark, dirty cloths. Slick hair. A nice enough smile, but eyes… that were trying to be pleasant… but were hiding something else. Hunger.

The boy tilted his head, then shrugged. He’d play this game. “Home. My brother’s in there, getting us tickets.” He spoke with his soft, small voice.

“Ohhh..” The man said, speculating. “Well, it’s dangerous out here. There are bad people about. Tell you what though. You could come to my car and wait with me. I’ve got candy.” The man smiled ever brighter.

Trifle forced a cheery sort of smile at the temptation. Making his eyes seem oh so quickly excepting of this offer. “Ok mister! That sounds like a great idea.” He held out his little hand.

The man took it, thinking he had a good grip. Leading the boy away, down a dark alley to the parking lot. Trifle, of course, could slip away at any time. However, he knew what was most likely about to happen. What the man really wanted.

Half way down the ally, the man lit a cheap looking cigarette. Puffing on it, quickly. Perhaps a congratulatory smoke for well played hunt? Who knows.

Trifle merely smiled though, cause the man was just making it easy. Inside his mind, he spoke the to the smoke as it wafted through the air. "Hello, Lord Smoke. I need a favor.”

“Oh?” Smokes hazy voice replied in the child’s mind. “I know you. What do you need?”

“This man? He sees to much. I need you to make it dark for him when I ask.”

“Hmm.. A simple task. Have you paid?”

“I have.”

“Fair enough. Speak when you wish it, I shall do so.”

“Thank you, Lord Smoke. Ever an honor.”

The man tossed the cigarette aside as they reached what must have been his car. A beat up old junker. Trifle would be surprised if the thing even ran. However, the car running was not what the man needed it for. “Now then, for some candy.” The man chuckled. His eyes leered as he picked the boy up, setting him the back seat.

“Now.” Trifle said quietly, watching with calm blue eyes.

“Wha..” The man began to blink rapidly. Smoke from no where, moving against the very evening breeze, fell upon him. Laying upon the man’s eyes, clouding his eyes, leaving him in darkness. Thus blinded, it was easy for Trifle to slip from the car, and trip the man. Who fell cursing in the back seat, struggling in panic to see.

Trifle glanced around, seeing one of the car’s rear view mirrors was unbroken. “Sir Mirror. This reflection is not what I need at this moment, could you help me?” the child spoke in his mind.

A yawn in the back of his mind was his reply. “Hmm? Ah, you. You must pay.”

“Take what you wish.”

“Done.”

~~*~~~*~~
Now it’s late and you head downstairs
Cause you just can’t sleep and you make some tea
And the doll disapprovingly asks if you really need that much honey
You decide that you’ve had enough.
And you lock the doll in the wooden box,
You put the box in the fireplace next to your bag of big city money.
~~*~~~*~~

The man continued to struggle, his movements becoming that much more frantic. Curses of fright quickly become shouts of pain. Trifle’s small hands, fingers now long and sharp like claws, dug into the man’s flesh about his neck. “I’d stop moving, if you don’t want me to rip your throat out.” Trifle told him quietly.

The man’s struggled slowed to near nothing. Confusion and fear filling his voice. “Who… what are…”

Trifle’s fingers dug in further, blood beginning to flow from beneath his claws. “Tsk tsk, I talk now. You wanted to give a kid some candy, hmm? I should really just kill you know. One less pedophile on the street.”

“No…” The man gasp, starting to struggle again but the sharp pain at his throat stilled him quickly. “I wasn’t.. I… didn’t mean… Was just gonna be a little… You want money? We can make a deal. We could…”

Trifle squeezed again, causing the man to yelp. He honestly should just kill the man. How many children had this one raped thus far? And how many might he later. Hmm…

Then the blond boy noticed the lights. Red, blue, red, blue… hmm.. Someone must have noticed the strange man walking of with a boy and called the cops. Well what do you know, there are a few good people left after all. “Looks like your lucky day.” Trifle reached for the seat belt, snapping the man in. In his blinded, panicked state, it’s doubtful the man would be able to get out in time.

With that, the boy raked his claws over the man’s face. Ignoring the yells as he hopped out of the car, pausing only enough to slip the man‘s wallet out of his pocket. Well, at least this one would be scar marked and quite a bit poorer. Doubtful few children would follow him into alley’s now.

~~*~~~*~~
As the smoke fills up your tiny room there’s nothing you can do,
And far too late you see the one inside the box is you.
~~*~~~*~~

He made sure the police saw him, covering his little face, as if crying, as he ran away from the car. Ducking into an alleyway.

“Lord Smoke? I need another favor.” The boy thought. Trifle a touch of magic fade out of him, as the darkness surrounded him. The police could look for hours and never find him now. They would find a bloody man screaming in the back of a car, however. Once they ran his plates, they’d find a convicted child molester, out on bond. Hopefully this time they will keep him in jail, but it’s doubtful.

Trifle looked around. The teen was gone, and it was getting to dark for a lone child to be in public without people asking questions.

Not the most productive of nights, but at least he’d gotten to play a little.

Trifle faded back in the darkness… walking alone for home.

Trifle. She’d named him Trifle. The first time she’d played with him.

~~*~~~*~~
And there’s the creepy doll,
That always follows you.
It’s got a ruined eye,
That’s always open.
~~*~~~*~~

http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j23/Dream_OnS/Art%20Gallery/Triffle.jpg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTSkWnKs9rM

Shadow Chronicles: Home

Wed, 01 Aug 2007 23:50:54 GMT

It was all very fascinating, in it’s own sort of way. She was thought of very little… except in those times when there was no one better to say what must be said. When emotion boiled over and could find no other outlet, save the whispers and writing’s of one pale little girl.

It has been a long journey since then. Sometimes happy, other times painful. However, even the painful times were far desirable than what existed now. A limbo. A silent nothing. A void. Filled only with lost hopes, forgotten dreams, discarded wants. There was only a long aching need, and the bitter knowledge that that need would never be filled. Not in the way that was wanted.

She passed, silently, like a wraith. In this place, but not a part of it. Not anymore. She remembered, each time. Each thing of value. Each place where the good times had happened. Every detail. Where the meercat’s band had played, where the jack rabbit had worked. Where the eshu had parked his 16 wheeler. Where the knockers had built cars. And then… the apartment.

It had once been there sanctuary, as she quietly passed through it. Her pale hand trailing along the wall, ever so lightly. The wall marked with the faint outlines of a pair of feminine bodies. Pink… then blue… pink… then blue. This place had been created by a pair of women. So gloriously beautiful was each. In form and in soul. With limitless wells of hopes and dreams and well wishes.

They were gone now. Gone on to better things. They were happy, just as they should be. There was nothing her that would dare call them back. Yet… those who knew them… those who remembered… wept for their absence. They were but memories to them.

For her kind, Rhea knew memories were enough. Sluagh were the caretakers of memories. It’s what they lived for. It was enough to sustain them. Rhea would, perhaps, echo those words. Parrot that ideal… but she didn’t truly believe it. It wasn’t enough. Not for her.

And neither for Seth.

She walked out onto the apartment rooftop. He was there, she hadn’t expected him not to be. She’d dared hope a little, but he was still there. His legs pulled up to his chest, his arms hugging them. His wide eyes starring out towards the horizon. His wings listless behind him. Ragged. Unkempt. It’d been a long time since he’d dare fly.

“I’m going.” Rhea whispered.

There was a long pause, before Seth nodded. “Good. You need to.”

“Come with me?”

Seth’s gaze never wavered, towards the horizon, as if… waiting. But he shook his head. “Gotta stay. Someone might paint over the walls. I can’t let that happen. They might come back.”

Rhea could argue with him, but she knew it would do no good. His mind was made up. “Peace be with you, Seth.” She whispered as she turned to go.

“Maybe someday,” he whispered in reply.

It’s a sad moment, when you realize you’ve no where to turn to. That every pillar that could have, should have, had once been what kept your life stable… had crumbled. When you could not turn to your parents, for they reject you. When you can not turn to friends, for they have changed. People who you once trusted… now look at you with strange eyes. As if you are doing something terribly wrong. Perhaps you are, there is always that possibility. Not knowing what that terrible thing you are doing is, however, makes it very hard to change. Hard to change indeed.

It’s like seeking a door in a hallway without light. Traveling blind. Seeking the right door. At one point you knew there was a right door somewhere… but now you’re not so sure. Yet, there is no alternative but to keep trying doors until you find the right one. The one home is behind.

Even if there is no home to be found. No one to turn to. No shoulder to cry on. No soul to trust.

She was not the last, but she might as well be. The others hid in their tower. Sheltered away within there rooms and their mirrors. They had much to say, but no words to say it.

Which only left her.

Something within her wanted to scream. Scream at that which hurt her. Demand they wake up and pay attention. She had not the voice for such things, nor the will to do it. If the whole world turned their back on her, that was their right. She could not change their minds. No one could.

Perhaps she had done something wrong, but she knew she hadn’t. This was simply how things were now.

Now, it was time to go.

Her dark eyes cast once more, over the city. Then, she to, turned away.

Rhea turned, and walked away. Left the city of Miami, and all the memories it held.

No more, did the smallest of sluagh linger. Without a sound, she left Caer Flamingo.

Alone. Without friend. Without shelter. Without home.

And without knowing where the next part of the story would take place.

Or even if there was any more story to be told.

WoD: Rob

Wed, 20 Jun 2007 22:40:23 GMT

I found a rose in the trash today. A red one.

It was wilted. In the trash was where it belonged after all. It served no purpose after it’s death. After it’s beauty had faded. It made sense to throw it away.

It’d only cost me a buck, after all. I didn’t put my name on it when I sent it to her. Just a passing idea. What word would she use? A passing “fancy.”

Thus it’s in the trash now. It had no purpose, after it’s life ended.

Heh. Same as me, I guess.

When I was born, others had a purpose for me. My parents wanted something from me. Knew exactly what I “should become.” What purpose I would serve in their designs.

I didn’t agree. And I left.

I met someone else. Gods, I remember those eyes. Those sweet honey gold eyes. I remember booze and trash and country folk all around, but there. Those honey gold eyes stared at me. And I knew I found my place.

At least I thought I had.

She had designs for me to. She made me into something else. She had a plan for me. She knew what I “should become.”

There was no leaving, no running from that though. Her power made her designs real. So thus I was.

This time I didn’t leave. She did. Simple as that.

Years went by. Maybe I served a purpose then, but I doubt it. If I did, it was this. I saw America. At it’s pure and truest. It was ugly in spots, but it was free. The horses ran where they wanted. The wind blew in and out of towns. And so did I.

Then someone told me I needed permission. A license. A name. Registration. I had to fit in the system. That was the new design. Public safety. Public records. The wind was no longer free… and neither was I.

If I had a purpose, if I do now, it was to remember that small time of freedom.

Then I met others. Carthians. They said they were like me. That they’d change the world. I had high hopes for them, for once. That they’d change the world back to the way when it was free. Back to the way I remember it.

Over the years, my hopes for them faded. Still though, their talk was the best offer I could find. So I stuck around.

Then she came along. And times were good again. I had a purpose. I cause. Keep her safe, and she’d change things. Maybe not the way things exactly were supposed to be in my view… but it had to be better than this.

She doesn’t need me right now though. I doubt she really ever did. I just fooled myself into thinking I fit in her design.

So now, like the red rose in the trash, I find myself without purpose again.

No, that’s not exactly true. I’ve never had purpose. Just what others wanted me to fit into. Suits that don’t quite sit right on my shoulders. Visions I can’t quite share in.

But in my silent heart, I know why I keep trying. Cause without a purpose, I’ll revert. An animal. A monster. Just a simple force for death and pain. I know for all the purposes I could have had, that is the one I want the least. I won’t become that. I can’t.

I’d rather die. Again.

So what am I now? What do I have to my name? Not much. This mind. These fists. In truth, I know little more than the mortals as to how things really are. I don’t know what their real names are. But I know things are out there. Horrible things. Evil things.

I don’t style myself a hero or a protector. I style myself a force. A weapon. And if I were to aim myself at these evil things, maybe some good will result from it. For someone. Who knows? Who cares?

Whatever.

I aim to pick a fight.

And if I win, good. And if I die, well that’s fine too.

Either will fit in my purpose.