indigo melodies

nanowrimo '09 update #whatever

2009-11-17T19:21:44Z

Hello again~ It's been a fairly stressful week, I'm only at 14,777 >_> But I'm still trying!! I've got time, right?! *cough* anyway, here's a few more excerpts - Ch 4 is my first attempt at writing second person! They're pretty much stand-alone (and not very long, either), so I'm not going to post Ch 3 (which actually goes right before the "interlude"). Hope you like!

..Interlude
He was somewhere dark, the blackness so complete that when he experimentally waved a hand in front of his face, there wasn't even the slightest flicker of color or light. He fought against the instinct to flail around and somehow find the light and let his illogical side take over. Instead he stood very still, closed his eyes - really only for effect, since it was just as dark either way - and quested out with his other senses, craning his ears for any sound, trying to see if there was anything he could smell. Perhaps that was an unlikely thought, but, on the other hand, he was almost sure he could hear something far off in the distance... What was that sound? Not quite like waves on the seashore, but more of a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh, fluctuating loud and soft and seemingly coming closer every minute or so. He opened his eyes instinctively and flinched back; there was a pinpoint of blindingly bright light coming directly towards him. Within seconds it had filled his entire field of vision, and he shut his eyes, but the light was white-hot, burning through his eyelids, consuming everything and only getting hotter and hotter and —
He was floating. Was this a dream? Or had he just died? Perhaps this was what happened after you'd died and gone to hell. Was he in hell? If he was, then wouldn't it be a good idea to take a look around while he was still conscious, at the least? He attempted to crack open an eyelid and then paused. If he was dead and in hell, would he still be conscious like this, and have eyelids? And for that matter... He attempted to lift an arm; yes, that was still there too... How odd, he seemed to have all his body parts functional again. Now just to —
"Open your eyes."
He flinched back. The voice came again, smooth and gentle and echoing just a bit with power.
"Don't be afraid. Open your eyes and look upon me, my darling."
The endearment startled him, but the tone was reassuring, so he obeyed. Several minutes passed while his eyes adjusted to the light, and he could only blink at the indistinct figure before him. He got a vague impression of longish black hair and a strong-featured face, but somehow his vision didn't quite clear even after the light wasn't making his eyes water anymore.
A hand came up to stroke the side of his face with butterfly-light touches, somehow both comforting and frightening at the same time. "Wh-Who are you?" he wavered.
A low chuckle and the hand changed its course, sliding down over his neck and collarbone before coming to a rest on his chest. He really must not be dead, since his heart was pounding like a kickdrum beating in his chest.
"Oh, I think you know very well who I am," and he thought he could hear the hint of a smirk in the voice. It tugged on a memory that he couldn't quite pull from the crevices of his mind... "In any case, perhaps this will serve to remind you?"
The hand crept back up to cup his chin, a callused yet soft thumb tracing over his mouth. He stiffened and a chill ran down his spine. The next instant a mouth covered his, sending heat pulsing through his body, and everything went black yet again.

..Chapter 4

You sit on a stool beside a hospital bed, gripping a cold hand between both of your own. The medics rush around the room, carrying this piece of equipment in and that sample out. But you pay no attention; all your concentration is focused squarely on the person lying in the bed, pale and struggling just to breathe. You will her to persevere, clasping her hand ever tighter and trying to channel your own energy down your linked hands, no matter how impossible that might be. You would do anything to save her, but what is there left to do that hasn't already been tried?
A beeping comes from the monitor next to the bed, getting louder and louder with every passing second. Four medics run in, yelling incomprehensibly to each other; they grab the hospital bed, release the brakes, and wheel it off at top speed. You want to go with them, but they rush off in such a hurry that her hand slips out of yours. You stare after them from the doorway, only catching a glimpse of the bed rounding the corner.

The crematorium is a large, boxy glass-and-steel building. It looks cold and impersonal, as well it might; there is a strict no-talking rule inside, and even the personnel that work inside are mutes. They are also the poorest of the poor, with no familial ties to interfere with their work. You have never been inside the crematorium, and you especially didn't want - or expect - your first time to be for this occasion.
You follow the line of citizens, similarly dressed in stark white, through the front door. The inside is bright, silent, and empty, and the negative temperatures are a shock after the pleasant late-summer climate outside. You are guided by sign language to one of the round rooms surrounding the inner gallery - there are no printed signs allowed within the premises, either - where rows of chairs are arranged around the room's circumference on either side of the door. Not a few chairs are already filled, and although the people look up when you enter, none of them appear to recognize you. You hadn't expected them to in any case, so you are not offended - although with in the state you're in now, you couldn't be expected to feel much of any emotion.
Centered in front of the entrance is a long, rectangular steel pedestal - slightly longer than the height of an average person. You take a seat directly in front of it and drop your head into your hands, waiting and trying not to think or allow any emotion to claim you.
At least ten minutes have passed - it is hard to tell in the eerie silence punctuated by the occasional rustling of cloth. A gong rings somewhere in the distance, but the sound echoes and is somehow amplified off the curved walls of the room. Everyone goes instantly silent, looking around nervously. And then a whirring noise comes from the pedestal.
The top of the pedestal splits lengthwise, folding over onto the outside, and a narrow rectangular box comes up from inside. It is pitch-dark, featureless, and you recognize the material instantly as carbon fiber. After it has been raised all the way up, the whirring stops and complete, pin-drop silence falls over the room.
Everyone is staring expectantly at the casket, for it is painfully evident that that is what the black box is. You force yourself not to look away, almost not blinking - you don't want to miss a moment of this. And you are very careful to keep a tight rein on your emotions, which is perhaps harder for you than for any of the others in the room.
From the front row, you can see that there are spirals of heating coils under the casket, and they are slowly turning red-orange. The color transfers even more slowly to the dark box, and you can feel the increasing waves of heat pouring off the pedestal. Gradually the casket turns red-hot, practically pulsing with the heat, which your detached mind rates at over 400 degrees - Celsius, of course. But you force yourself not to move a muscle, blinking away the sweat dripping into your eyes. After the casket has been as hot as possible for about seven minutes, the heating coils abruptly shut off. The casket whirs down into the pedestal again, and a silent sigh of relief passes through the room's occupants. You find that you are gripping the edge of your chair with white-knuckled hands.
After three minutes of staring at the pedestal, what comes up now is not the casket again, but a small cube also of carbon fiber, perhaps less than a tenth of the size of the casket. It sits there on the top of the pedestal, and there is a collective rustle of clothing through the room. But before anyone can move, you jump to your feet and pick up the cube. It fits snugly into the palm of your hand and you close your hand around it, taking comfort from the pain of its sharp corners digging into your flesh.
Several of the other people in the room have risen to their feet as well; you look around at them, but don't recognize a single one, and it is evident that they don't know you either. But something in your face must explain, since they fall back a step or two. Without any acknowledgement of their surrender, you leave the room with your spine straight and head held high.

You know what it is that you must do; recent events have left no doubt in your mind that all is not well and good with the world, as it may seem to the other citizens of Zaexopolis. And now you can no longer afford to sit back and watch events unfold with no stake in any outcome. No, now it has become a personal matter. You will find out who is responsible, and you will make them pay.

nanowrimo update #2? #3? whatever.

2009-11-08T04:43:22Z

Here you go, chapter 2, not that anyone really wants to read it. I just feel like posting it. I'm in the middle of chapter 3, at 8,870 words - as you can see by the widget in the sidebar that actually works now!!

..Chapter 2
[Same Day]

It was early evening now and the hoverlights were coming on one by one, illuminating the roads with a softly iridescent glow from where they hung above. When she was little, Kyndra had always thought that the hoverlights were really just giant soap-bubbles somehow made solid and levitated into the air. Her parents used to take her out for long walks at night, telling her about the stars that you used to be able to see in the night sky, and how there'd been legends and myths about them. She'd loved those stories so much, especially the sad story of the 'star-crossed' lovers Hikoboshi and Orihime, the stars Altair and Vega, who were separated by the Milky Way for all but one day a year, the Seventh Day of the Month of Lucky Happenings. She'd asked her father to tell her that one over and over again, and even now, at times when she felt as nostalgic as she did now, she could hear his voice reciting the Tanabata story.
Kyndra hadn't seen her parents for several months now, nor would she for at least the four years she would be studying at the Repository. In Zaexopolis, once you were ready to attend the Repository, you left your parents' house for the last time and moved to the Repository's dorms. After four years, you would hopefully get a job or move on to further studies, and then you would have your own home. Some people never saw their parents or other family again after those four years. Kyndra wasn't yet sure what she wanted, but it did seem a little depressing to live with someone for eighteen years and then never see them again.
She supposed it was lucky, in a way, that all of Jaida's children were grown and hadn't been home since passing out of the Repository. They'd still mourn her, of course, but it wouldn't be as sharp a grief as if it had been Kyndra's mother who'd died. Perhaps things were better this way after all; the old didn't need to cause everyone pain when they passed - putting aside the fact that Jaida hadn't been old at all, really. Jaida's husband, though - Kyndra wondered if perhaps she should call him to 'express her regrets', as her mother would say. Yes, that was probably the polite thing to do, and why not now? It wasn't too late, and she still had a bit of a walk until she reached her dorm.
Projection activated, she paused. Where was she supposed to find Jaida's husband's recipient ID? After all, she'd never had a reason to speak with him - she'd never even heard his name from Jaida. Jaida hadn't really spoken too much about her family...or spoken to Kyndra that much in general. But perhaps Officer Kyne would have their contact information? She swiped the redial area of the projection, and waited for the call to connect.
It took at least a minute before Officer Kyne's face popped up; he looked rather harried. "Yes, Citizen, what is it?" he asked brusquely.
"Hello, Officer Kyne, I was just wondering if you had the recipient ID for Jaida's husband, or anyone else in her family that I could contact? I'd just like to express my regrets to them, and besides, there's the matter of all the personal belongings she left behind in our dorm..."
Officer Kyne hesitated. "Well, generally we're not allowed to give sensitive information of that nature out to the public, but I suppose you're somewhat involved in this case as well... Give me a few moments while I find it for you." He put the call on hold and disappeared from the projection.
Kyndra ambled down the street a total of four intersections before her bracelet vibrated again. "Yes?" she answered.
"Citizen Spectre? I'm sorry to say there's been an unforeseen complication and I won't be able to give you that information after all. In fact -" There was a loud commotion from off-camera and Officer Kyne's eyebrows shot up as he turned to speak to whoever was next to him. He disappeared from view for a few minutes and then reappeared, looking slightly grim.
"I've been cleared to give you this news - Citizen Clifford Fallvor, husband to Citizen Jaida Fallvor, has just been confirmed dead in the Ward #64 Hospital. He was significantly older than Citizen Jaida and died from natural causes, namely the effects of advanced age."
Kyndra raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Jaida had only been 45 or 50 at the most - how much older could her husband have been? She somehow doubted he was 128, the current average death age. But stranger things had been known to happen, she supposed.
"In any case, Citizen Spectre, Jaida's belongings in the room you shared are free for you to do with as you choose. Anything you can't make use of can be donated to the City Council for a small tax rebate. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to contact me." His words seemed forced, and his eyes were flickering around something 'behind' Kyndra. He was obviously in a hurry to get off the line, so Kyndra thanked him for all his 'help' and disconnected the call.
Kyndra had a lot to think about as she headed home, more purposefully this time. She didn't know why, but she was itching to find out exactly what had happened to Jaida, and whether it was at all connected to her husband's death just a day later.

She tried to focus on homework once she got back that night, but it was fruitless - her mind kept going back to what she had learned that day, but she didn't have enough details to figure out anything further. Finally, she decided that an early night would probably be more helpful - perhaps she would dream something that would give her a memory of Jaida's behavior the past week, or some other clue.

In the middle of the night, she was woken by the same ear-piercing noise she had heard that morning. She woke instantly and shot into a seated position, eyes wide and heart pounding. The second time in a day - she couldn't really have dreamed it both times, could she have? She pressed the blind-retracting button and peered down onto the dimly-lit street below. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust, and then she could make out... Was that a hovercar parked in front of her building? Those were so rare and expensive, only the richest of the upper class owned them. Whenever you saw one cruising overhead on the aerial equivalent of the Great Concourse, all pedestrian traffic below came to a standstill as everyone craned their necks to have a look and guess who was in it this time.
So... Why would anyone rich enough to own a hovercar be visiting a first-year Repository dorm? Half the occupants had probably never even seen a hovercar, much less one like this, which - as far as she could make out - was painted a garish shade of violet with yellow trim. As she stared at the hovercar, perturbed, the rear door slid open mechanically and a dark figure stepped gracefully out, walking up the path and into the dorm's front entrance.
She blinked. This couldn't have anything to do with that strange noise....could it?
There was a knock on the door.
Kyndra panicked. Here?! The mysterious figure had chosen HER dorm room out of all the others that could have been picked from this building? What was going on? Had she done something wrong? Could it be a special government agent come to dispose of her just as Jaida had been disposed of?? Wait, Jaida hadn't been murdered, had she?
There was a second knock.
Kyndra jumped out of bed, quickly finger-combing her short hair and making sure she didn't look completely awful in the mirror on the wall. It would take too long to change out of her pajamas, so she just jumped onto the platform-elevator and rushed to open the front door.
A draft of cold air rushed in, making her flinch for a moment before she could take in her visitor - her very strange visitor. The tall, pale man was dressed all in black, a collared button-down tucked into elegantly tailored trousers, under a fitted waistcoat, and on top, a black....cape? It swept the floor behind him, and was lined in a silky, off-white material patterned with orange-and-blue paisley. There was no hood to the cape; instead, on his head, he wore a rather unusual top hat which sported rabbit ears at least two feet in length, also black, and wrapped around his bird-like neck. To complete the outfit, he carried a cane, which he very obviously had no need of despite the fact that she had no way of telling how old he was.
The man swept inside without waiting to be invited. Although he was very tall, he somehow wasn't awkward at all - on the contrary, his every movement was elegant and the wealthiness poured off him in waves. "Hello, hello," he said in a much too cheerful voice for the middle of the night, looking utterly out of place standing in the middle of the kitchen. "How do you do? I am VON VOLKINBURG, and you must be Citizen Kyndra Spectre, no?" He had a very faint accent that she couldn't place, and she must have imagined the way his voice got all deep and echo-y when he said 'VON VOLKINBURG'...
"Um...er, yes, that's right, but... Who exactly are you again?"
He swept around to look at her with narrowed eyes; she quickly busied herself with shutting the door. "You don't know of the Von Volkinburg? Such a travesty! Honestly, what they teach our young ones these days... le sigh." He started muttering to himself, complete with expansive hand gestures.
After a few moments, Kyndra had to interfere to bring the conversation back on track. "Erm, excuse me? Could you possibly explain what you're doing here? And what's going on? Does this have anything to do with the noise I heard just now and also yesterday morning?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then threw his cane on the dining table. "Yes, yes, you come with me and we explain. But first, some better clothes are needed, no?" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the elevator platform; once on the second floor, he made for the round dressing cubicle and popped in and out in seconds flat. Then he pushed her in. "You get dressed, then we go. Quickly!"
Kyndra looked at the pulsing wall-panel, baffled. It looked like Von Volkinburg had already picked out clothes for her, since a drawer in the back slid open just then. She held them up dubiously; a bright, flower-patterned skirt in blue and green and a dark blue shirt the color of her eyes, paired with long boots. Not what she would have chosen, but it wasn't the worst. There were several impatient taps on the door, and she hurriedly finished getting dressed.

Von Volkinburg had pulled her along with him, out of her dorm and into his hovercar, not giving her time for any questions or protests. He was clearly a person used to getting his own way, that was for sure. Kyndra eventually gave up and just sat back in her seat, admiring the inside of the hovercar, which was somehow both sleek and comfortable at the same time. She couldn't even imagine how much one of these would cost, and she should try to enjoy what was probably her first and last ride in a hovercar.
Von Volkinburg, of course, had a chauffeur, a thin, nondescript-looking man with gray hair (why wasn't it dyed, she wondered? People with naturally gray hair were so rare these days.). He didn't speak but only nodded when Von Volkinburg ordered him to go to "you-know-where". Kyndra almost laughed at the ridiculous way he bent in close to the chauffeur and stage-whispered the destination, but she refrained - it might offend him, after all. He was such a strange character that she had no idea how to behave around him.
The hovercar launched itself slowly and vertically into the air, and Kyndra settled back into her seat. They were twenty feet or more above the tops of the city's highest buildings in just a few minutes, and the view was amazing. Sections of the city were lit up, evidently the late-night entertainment districts, while the residential areas like the one they had just left were pitch black. The car headed south and then south-east, speeding easily through the empty skyways. They passed over a huge, modern-styled building that Kyndra recognized as the Repository after a few moments of staring - it looked completely different from up in the air; in fact, it looked much better this way. Whoever had built it evidently hadn't considered how their design would look off-paper.
Just after they'd crossed the Repository, the car banked tightly to the south; they were now over the southeastern-most corner of the city. This was the government sector, where the City Council had its building, not to mention all the other departments that controlled Zaexopolis. Some rich businessmen also live in the same area - Kyndra wondered if perhaps Von Volkinburg's estate was here, too?
Just as she was wondering that, the hovercar slowed down short of the Council Chambers and went into a spiraling downward descent. Barely half a minute later, it had landed on a strange platform on the very top of a domed building. There were no rails to speak of around the platform's edge, and as Von Volkinburg ushered her out, Kyndra was afraid she'd fall and roll down the slope of the dome any minute.
Before she could get her bearings, she was whisked to the side of the platform, where there was an opening for...was that a slide? She peered down into it, but it curved away almost immediately. Von Volkinburg motioned her towards it, but she backed away. No way was she going down a mysterious slide FIRST.
He sniffed impatiently. "Hmph, no bravery? Le sigh. Then, you follow me after a little bit, yes?" Without hesitating, he jumped into the opening and flew out of sight. Kyndra debated not going down at all, but the chauffeur was behind her, so she had no choice. Taking a deep breath, she swung herself in...
...and zoomed around several dizzily tight turns in a row without a chance to catch her breath. Then the slide smoothed into a straighter section, and the tubing went transparent. She was going around the inside perimeter of the huge dome she had just been on top of, and within a few seconds she had reached the widest section and slowed down a bit. The ceiling was painted with various brightly-colored murals that looked almost as if they were trying to tell a story, so she relaxed and settled back to watch the sections of wall she was passing by. She couldn't make head not tail of the illustrations, but she did have to admit they were well-done.
She was getting lower and lower now, approaching what must be the top floor of the house, just under the dome. From what she could see, a gigantic ring-shaped table was set in the center of the floor, surrounded by many comfy-looking chairs that gradiated through the colors of the rainbow. When she'd been higher up, the chair-colors had all bled together to look like a giant circular rainbow, but now she could see more details. There were a lot of people around the table too, some seated and some talking in small groups. Kyndra wondered who they all were, and what exactly she was doing here - not to mention what this place was?
The end of the slide was approaching. Kyndra pushed against the sides of the tube to slow herself down, and succeeded in coming to a stop just before the end, so she was able to step out fairly gracefully, although slightly dizzy. She dusted herself off and looked around for some clue as to what she should do next.
The decision was taken out of her hands the next moment, when a woman cloaked from head to toe in various shades of gray came up and took her elbow with an icy hand. She was hooded, too, a shadow falling over her face so that only her bright eyes could be seen staring out of the darkness. Kyndra jumped and tried to jerk back, but the woman's pale fingers, startling against her own dark skin, only tightened. She brought her eyes up to the woman's face, slightly panicked, only to catch a flash of white in what she hoped was a smile.
"Why hello dearie, nothing to worry about! We're all friends here, you know. Kyndra, is it?" Her voice was surprisingly low and melodious, sounding rather younger than Kyndra had assumed she was - not that she couldn't be using a voicebox or something. But then, her bearing was quite youthful as well; she stood straight and tall, not hunched over or anything. Kyndra pushed away her wandering thoughts and tried to figure out exactly what was going on.
"Um...Yes, that's right. Who are you? And why exactly am I here?"
"Not to worry, dearie, everything will be explained in due course! My name is Vanmoriel Traisev, but you can call me VT for short - everyone does, you know. Come along now..." She pulled Kyndra towards the table, steering her into an turquoise chair, then took her own seat in a pure white chair between Kyndra's chair and an empty green one. Von Volkinburg was already seated directly across from 'VT', almost indistinguishable from his black chair; he was in deep conversation with the people seated on either side of him, one in a bright red chair and the other in violet. Kyndra looked around, but couldn't recognize anyone else she knew in the crowd - not that she had been expecting to, but it would have been nice.
Suddenly the noise of a gong reverberated through the room, silencing everyone immediately. Those standing came over to the table and took seats, which seemed to be assigned; Kyndra wondered if there was any significance to the colors, but there wasn't any pattern she could see right away. In a few moments, every chair was filled, and an expectant hush filled the room.
Finally, Von Volkinburg rose from his chair, placing his hands palm-down on the table and looking around at his audience. "Friends," he began, and Kyndra was surprised at how his voice had suddenly changed; the accent was somehow gone, and the tone of amusement had been replaced by formality. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the addition of several members to our august assemblage. Please do rise when I call your name so that I may introduce you to your new compatriots."
He pulled a tablet from the inner pocket of his cloak and began to read from it. "Citizens Eveley and Ashynne Faulkier, sisters, from the 4th District." Two girls rose, one short with long black hair, and the other tall and blonde. They looked nothing alike. "Citizen Eveley is a second-year student at the Repository, studying long-distance wireless technology. She lives with her sister, Citizen Ashynne, who is working at the, ah..." He peered down at his notes again. "...ah, yes, the BrilliantJadedBanshee, which is a fairly new bar and nightclub in Sector #61, or so I believe. The Citizens Faulkier will be serving us as undercover agents and informants." There was polite applause from the rest of the circle, and Kyndra hesitantly joined in.
Von Volkinburg continued to read off names, but Kyndra tuned him out. Undercover agents? Informants? What had she gotten herself into? Come to think of it, she hadn't actually DONE anything - so why was she here? She considered trying to sneak out, but there were so many people here, someone would definitely notice - not to mention the fact that she didn't have the slightest idea where she was or how to get out. Her thoughts were getting subsequently less plausible when she was rudely interrupted by a jab in her side. When she jumped and looked up, VT was motioning her to stand, so she awkwardly rose to her feet, wondering what was going on. Then she heard what Von Volkinburg was saying.
"...Citizen Kyndra Spectre is our newest recruit -" What? Since when was she a recruit? She didn't even know what she had been recruited for! "- a first-year student at the Repository and a resident of Repository Dorm #32. She is especially skilled in languages and linguistics, which is why we selected her. As a matter of fact, Citizen Spectre is fluent in Seebell, Klemder, Folmalkin, and even the archaic Shuar tongue. I'm sure she'll be a great asset." All right, so that was actually true - though she'd never actually had anyone to speak Shuar to - but what was this business about her being an asset?
Von Volkinburg said some things further, none of which registered with Kyndra. The next minute, everyone at the table was getting up, stretching, and going their various ways. Kyndra wondered if she should leave, but VT pulled her up by the elbow again.
"Well, dearie, come along now, I'll get you settled in for the night - what's left of it, that is - and in the morning you'll be introduced to your partner, all right? Do make yourself at home, VV wouldn't use his own house for business purposes if he didn't want that!"
"What? Am I staying here tonight? But it's only Fire-day, I've got classes tomorrow, and anyhow, no one really explained what was happening -"
"Oh no, no, you'll be staying here with us for at least a week - you may not be going back to your classes the rest of the term, either, depending on what VV - that's Von Volkinburg, by the way, but don't call him that to his face, he'll be quite miffed - assigns to your team. Come now, this way!"
VT pulled her along through the thinning crowds towards a platform-elevator in the corner, leaving no time to protest. They took it down to the next floor below, marked as Level 4. A long hallway greeted them, identical doors lining either side; it looked rather like a hotel. Kyndra was taken all the way down the hallway to the second-to-last door on the left, shown inside, and then VT left her to her own devices... Well, not without a last reminder that she had to be up and ready by nine the next morning, of course.
The room Kyndra'd been given was plainly furnished in neutral colors, nothing to distinguish it from an actual hotel room. It was a bit strange to be staying the night - and more, if VT could be believed - in some random place, but she was as good as lost. She could probably find her way back to her dorm with the help of the network on her ID bracelet, but they evidently already knew where she lived. No, she was probably better off staying where she was and finding out exactly what was going on. She thought they were in the government district, so chances were that this 'organization' had something to do with the City Council or one of their departments.
Was being government-related really a good thing, though? Recently there'd been a lot of rumors about 'things' happening in the City Council, like Council members from long-established political families being removed from their positions and being replaced with people no one had ever heard of. Some of the previous Council members had been quite vocal in their protests, but shortly afterward several of them had disappeared from society. Everyone kept their suspicions to themselves, but at the same time, everyone knew something fishy was going on. Still, it did no good to speculate; the ordinary citizen never had anything to do with the City Council or any say in their affairs, anyhow. Kyndra had classified herself as an 'ordinary citizen' up til now, but suddenly this mysterious organization showed up. She didn't really know what to think anymore; the only thing to do seemed to be to take things as they came and for now, sleep on it.

nanowrimo update #2

2009-11-03T06:05:21Z

At 3,701 and just finished Chapter 1... it's not very long, but I figured I might as well post it now.

Kyndra walked slowly through the Repository's courtyard gardens, considering whether to grab lunch at that trendy new cafe down on 32nd St - what was it called, ShinyDoom? - or sit in the courtyard and finish her reading for her Early 21st-Century History class. She had just decided that she was too hungry to study when she got a ping on her ID bracelet, which vibrated noiselessly against her wrist. Bringing it up to face level, she activated the projection and was surprised to see that it was a live call, not one of the spam chain letters she usually got. The caller ID didn't seem familiar but she answered it anyway.
"Yes?" she asked the screen, putting down her bag and sitting on a nearby bench. There was a ding and a man's face popped up on the projection - she had just been transferred to a video call. Frowning, she was about to speak when the man - she now noticed he was wearing a security official's hat - interrupted her.
"Am I speaking to Citizen Kyndra Spectre?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"I'm Officer Kyne from the Missing Persons Department. This call is in relation to a Citizen Jaida Fallvor - do you know any such person?" His voice was briskly official, but Kyndra thought she could detect an undertone of nervous stress.
"Well, yes, she's actually my dormmate in Repository Dorm #32, but I haven't seen her for almost a week. Is something the matter?"
There was a pause on the line. "Citizen Spectre, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. You haven't seen Citizen Fallvor for a while because she checked into the Ward #26 Hospital last Tree-Day -"
'Tree-Day,' Kyndra thought, 'Today's Fire-Day, so that's five days ago now? What was so serious that they couldn't fix it in five days?'
"- and she died just this morning. We were unable to determine her identity until after her death because of the Non-Consensual DNA Sample Policy, or we would have contacted you earlier. As it is, I've only just broken the news to her family, who gave me your Recipient ID #."
"But..." Kyndra was having a hard time processing, and she was glad she'd sat down. It wasn't that she'd been close to Jaida - after all, they'd only lived together for a month and a half - but anyone would be shocked to hear that someone they knew personally had died. After all, that sort of thing just didn't happen these days. "She's dead? Jaida's dead? What did she die of, was it a disease, or -"
"Citizen Spectre, I'm afraid that at this time we have not been able to determine the cause of death, and during Citizen Fallvor's stay in the hospital, the physicians were baffled by her condition. She exhibited symptoms of many different diseases all at once, and she never regained enough lucidity to speak to anyone. However, I, along with my colleagues from the Suspicious Occurrences Department and the Curious Deaths Department, will continue to investigate. If we learn anything new, we'll be sure to let you know. Once again, I'm very sorry for your loss. Do have a good day." And with that, Officer Kyne's face flickered off the projection.
Kyndra was left sitting on the bench, staring at her ID bracelet. What a strange turn of events... She'd just assumed that Jaida had gone home to be with her husband for a while, or had perhaps gone on a vacation with him, or gone to visit other relatives, or any of a million other harmless things. But this, this was much worse than she could have imagined. After all, no one she'd known had ever died before. You sometimes heard rumors of deaths in the seedier areas of the city, but no one knew if those were actually true or not. Nowadays, no one died until they were well into their 130s, unless they put in a request to be crytogenically preserved at a certain age...
She had been staring at her wrist for several moments, thoughts wandering, when her bracelet vibrated again, making her jump. She activated it automatically, forgetting to check the caller ID. A black-hooded head popped up in the projection, with only one slit out of which red eyes glared malevolently.
"Citizen, have you been enlightened by the ways of the Hereditary Mind of Lys? Lysander's teachings must be followed exactly in order to stave off the imminent collision of our planet with the galaxies beyond. If this message has perturbed you -"
Kyndra slammed her hand down over the bracelet, cutting off the hollowly sepulchral digital voice. She winced, cursing all spam messages - she'd gotten this one at least twice before. Well, at least now she knew Scrivener Ryton must be part of whichever cyber-age cult had sent out that message, what with the 'Hereditary Mind of Lys' and all that nonsense. Everyone knew that Scrivener Ryton wasn't quite right in the head, although he was usually a fairly decent teacher - now she had an idea of just how cracked he was.
Kyndra switched off the projection and got up slowly from the bench. What with the message she'd just gotten, she wasn't in the mood to study or sit through any more classes. She'd probably be better off heading back to her dorm, taking the long route so she could think things over.

NaNoWriMo Post #1

2009-11-02T05:56:22Z

I'm at 2,794 words - not bad for just into Day 2, hopefully I can keep this up... Anyway, here's what I've got so far, for vlad3351 and asphyxiation77's reading pleasure =]. Can't wait to get into the actual plot, though... My descriptions are always awkward, altho I did have fun inventing random gadgets! (Also, my indenting and other formatting from Q10 is gone, sorry about that...)

..Chapter 1
Month of the Eightfold Restrictions 13, Fire-Day, 3643
A loud, shrill noise ripped through the still night air. Kyndra jerked awake, sitting up straight. The noise seemed to echo through not her ears but her head - there was no actual sound she could hear, but the memory of it played over and over until it finally faded into silence. Kyndra reached over to press a button on the wall beside her bed, and the window blinds whirred smoothly up. All was still - only the faintest light of dawn could be seen silhouetting the jagged skyline of Zaexopolis. Nothing seemed to be happening outside, as she would expect of the city's largest residential neighborhood at this time of the morning - but then, all the walls were soundproofed so heavily that if she hadn't dreamed that noise, no one else would have known that anything had even happened.
Now wide awake, Kyndra slid noiselessly out of bed and padded to the large, round cubicle across the room from the two identical single beds. She stepped into the frosted-glass-and-chrome enclosure and the door automatically slid shut behind her, the lights flicking on. Discarding her pajamas, she tossed them into a drawer at the back of the cubicle, which slid shut afterwards, and turned to the illuminated LCD panel in the cubicle's wall. A touch on the screen awakened it, and it pulsed softly with blue light as she considered her options. First she tapped the icon for teeth-brushing/ face-washing and then the one for a shower followed by combination deodorant-and-perfume spray, but hesitated over the clothing choices.
Raising her left wrist, she placed her right index finger over the matching indentation in her platinum ID bracelet. A moment later, the familiar green inverted cone of light flickered to life and she instructed the personal data manager to display her schedule. It looked as if she had a full day of classes ahead of her, so she stashed away her planner and reluctantly pressed the "uniform" icon on the screen.
The panel went dark once she had confirmed her choices, and she stepped to the sink that had come up from a panel in the floor, complete with toothbrush, toothpaste, and a towel hanging underneath. Once she was done, the sink slid back into the floor and a large round showerhead came down from the ceiling.

Fifteen minutes later, Kyndra stepped out of the cubicle, dressed in the requisite uniform for female first-year students at the Repository - a long-sleeved pale gray tunic with a row of black buttons down the pin-tucked front, worn over dark gray leggings and black boots. She ran a hand through her damp auburn hair, cropped to just above the earlobes, and tugged on the silver studs in her ears to make sure they were secure. The round platform set into the floor in the center of the narrow room took her down to the main floor with the touch of a button.
The main floor of Kyndra's dorm was twice the width of the sleeping area, half a kitchen and half a study area. It was to the kitchen she headed now, consulting the LCD panel on the front of the chiller. She was in the mood to cook a little, so she entered the self-cook menu and was presented with step-by-step recipe, the ingredients for which were deposited in the slot below the panel. Kyndra paused before switching on the multi-processor, not wanting to wake Jaida, but then she remembered that Jaida hadn't been back for the past few days.
Jaida was Kyndra's dormmate, a middle-aged mother of three who'd decided to return to the Repository now that her children were grown. She was nice, but Kyndra always felt strange living with someone old enough to be her own mother. It'd been nice having the room to herself for a little while - when she was in it, anyhow - but Jaida'd been gone for nearly a week now, and she hadn't even told Kyndra she would be gone, as she usually did.
But Kyndra pushed the matter from her mind - Jaida's life was her own business, she didn't need to interfere. She finished cooking and eating, and headed out to the Repository despite it being far too early to actually go to her classes.

The temperature outside was pleasantly warm, the humidity of the past weeks having finally disappeared. Black clouds loomed in the sky, threatening rain, but as any good city did, Zaexopolis possessed waterproof barriers installed over even the very tallest building, so that every drop of rainwater was collected and put to use instead of soaking uselessly into the ground. The shortage of clean water from rivers and lakes, or rather the shortage of rivers and lakes themselves, had made this an indispensable necessity for a city the size of Zaexopolis to sustain itself.
It was still fairly early in the morning, so the air-purifiers were still spraying their fine mist into the surroundings. The air-purifiers were twenty-foot long white poles with what looked like horizontal propellers on the top, and all through the night, every night, they sprayed a solution that removed anything malignant from the air - pollution, bacteria, viruses, pollen, any particles or such of that nature. Kyndra sometimes wondered whether the air was too sterile, too devoid of life, but still, she'd grown up with it this way and had nothing to compare it to. Perhaps one day she would visit another city, or just venture outside the city limits, and see what she could see.
By now Kyndra had reached the Great Concourse, which passed through not only Zaexopolis but many other cities, from both north to south and east to west. By law, it was the widest road in the city, and the most frequently used; even at this early hour, it was beginning to become congested. Kyndra headed east on the G-Con - as it was called by the street-kids, mostly - then off on another nearly-as-wide avenue which ended in the Repository of Higher Learning.
The Repository was where every young adult (and not a few other, older citizens, like Jaida) came to study once they'd finished at the lower schools in their various districts. There was a class for almost every interest or skill, and since attendance was mandatory - not that the street-kids cared - there were no fees. Kyndra did enjoy her classes, but it was a drag having to come nearly every day from the dorm they'd assigned her all the way on the other side of the city.
Today her first class was Geography, but there was still plenty of time before, according to her ID bracelet. She decided to head to one of the labs and work on her simulation project for her Civilization class, later in the day.

An hour later, Kyndra left the lab, yawning, and waited for the fourth floor elevator to come down to the basement. It took only seconds, of course, and she hopped on. Just as the platform was about to lift off, a figure came sprinting down the hallway and Kyndra slammed her foot onto the "stop" panel set into the floor.
The figure turned out to be a boy also in the gray first-years' uniform, with longish black hair that was falling into his face. "Thanks," he said softly, panting a little from the run. Kyndra only got a flash of his face before he turned to face the other way, but she could've sworn she saw a spiraling pattern of tiny dark dots all over the pale skin. He seemed determined to face away from her, so she couldn't get another look - but she had probably been hallucinating anyway. Spending an hour staring at a simulation of ancient civilizations could do that to you. Besides, his hands seemed perfectly normal, if a bit pale compared to her own tanned skin.
The platform-elevator came through the glass tube to the fourth floor just as the boy had begun to fidget impatiently, and he dashed out before it had even come to a stop. Kyndra raised her eyebrows after him and stepped out at a far more sedate pace. The Repository was a huge building, but luckily, her Geography classroom was just around the corner from the elevator.
The classroom was nearly full when she entered, and she quickly took a seat at the horseshoe-shaped table. The lecturer, Scrivener Ryton, was already at his podium in the opening of the horseshoe, shuffling around papers. He looked up, checked his ID bracelet, then cleared his throat warningly, the noise magnified by a microscopic microphone set into the podium. The chatter in the classroom faded away almost immediately and Kyndra pulled her tablet out of her satchel, ready to take notes.
"Settle down now, class. Let's get started, shall we? Would someone like to tell me where we left off last week?" There was complete silence for a good few minutes before a girl in the back raised her hand and called out something about 'famous landmarks and their histories'.
Scrivener Ryton pushed up his wire-rimmed glasses - he really only wore them for effect, since everyone nowadays had their vision corrected - and frowned disapprovingly, looking around at the students. "I beg to differ, that's what we will be studying today. Last week we focused on the other large cities in the vicinity of Zaexopolis - I trust you recall their names and significances?"
There was a chorus of "yes"-es and "of course"-es, but they didn't seem to convince Scrivener Ryton. He glared around at them over his large, bird-like nose. Why hadn't he had that corrected, too? "Unfortunately, I haven't got the time today to give you a quiz, but you can look forward to one next week. Please do be ready."
He pressed a button on the podium and a black holoscreen flickered into existence behind him, already displaying a map of Zaexopolis and the surrounding areas in white. Scrivener Ryton pulled out a long silver pointer and began tapping spots on the map; bright green X's appeared wherever he touched.
"Let's start here, shall we?" He tapped the X directly to the east of Zaexopolis, and a name-label appeared under it. "This is the Lofty Monument of the Hereditary Brigands. It's a trio of obelisks, placed in a triangle, and each seems taller than the others from a different angle. In actuality, they're not all the same height, as you might assume. No, these monuments have been studied for a good century but no one has been able to determine the true height of each obelisk. It's a strange paradox that draws many visitors every vacation period, all equipped with protractors, string, levels, sundials, and various other items with which they attempt to calculate the monuments' heights. Incidentally, the famous brigands Bush and Cheney are rumored to be buried in the center of the obelisk-triangle, and some even believe that their spirits are changing the truth so that the heights of the obelisks are impossible to measure. Archaeologists have investigated, however, and the only item that was found amongst the obelisks was some type of antiquated missile. Further tests have yet to be completed...
"Next, the Buried Swamp of the Thousandfold Miracle." The X he tapped this time was just northeast of the previous. "This is not a swamp, contrary to public belief. If one cared to consider the name a bit more carefully, they would realize that a Buried Swamp is not the same as a normal swamp at all." Scrivener Ryton noticed the puzzled looks he was getting from the students. "Ah, yes, I'd forgotten - none of you would know what a swamp is, would you? In fact, I don't believe there are any still in existence. Well, in times past, the low land near a body of water - in this case, the Sympathetic Ocean of Lente's Tears - would regularly become flooded, with no chance to drain, and this area was called a swamp. The Buried Swamp was once an enormous swamp such as those, but about 550 years ago - so the legend goes - the revered Mafia Squirrel of those parts was petitioned to do something about living conditions for the swamp-people. After many, many offerings of swamp-nuts, swamp-honey, and imported rifles, he agreed - and buried the whole swamp under a mountain of sand. The swamp-people initially rejoiced, renaming the area the Buried Swamp of the Thousandfold Miracle, but once they realized their houses and relatives were under a mountain of sand, well... Ah, that's a subject for another class. In any case, the Buried Swamp is now a sort of temperate desert, and only very few people live there.
"Moving on, moving on... Let's see, I do hope you all know this one?" He tsked when nobody jumped to identify the X just north of Zaexopolis. "Come now, you must know the Aqueduct of the Hereditary Mind of Lys! The entire water supply of Zaexopolis comes from these aqueducts! Without them, why, we'd all perish. And don't you ask me about the Hereditary Mind of Lys - if you haven't learned the ways of Lysander yet, you may as well leave this class right now."
It was evident that no one in the class had any idea what he meant, but they didn't want to be kicked out. Some would look it up the instant class was dismissed - most would just hope it never came up again. Kyndra had the vague idea she'd heard the principle before, but had no idea where or when.
Scrivener Ryton paused to take a drink of some strange green substance that was sitting in a glass on the podium, bubbling slightly. The students watching all shuddered simultaneously, but luckily he didn't notice. He smacked his lips as if it was extremely sour, then turned back to the holoscreen as if nothing had broken his flow.
"Well, this next landmark should be familiar to all of you! The Ethereal Academy of the Antique Children is where you'll go if you wish to pursue further education past the Repository's level. There also do research in a variety of subjects, mainly of the sciences - I've heard tell they have a virtual labyrinth of underground labs, restricted access only for the scientists who work there. Perhaps some of you will work there in the future - it's only three blips north of the city, after all. Although the scientists in the restricted labs aren't allowed to leave very often...or at all?
"Now, far, far to the north lies the Forbidden Citadel of the Eternal Amazons - don't go there. You will be killed. We won't be discussing it in class, and if you have a burning desire to learn more, please don't come ask me. I will not answer any questions on the subject. Let's move on - to the southwest of Zaexopolis lie the Classical Caverns of the Ghostly Mind, a popular tourist spot. In fact, many of you must have visited them before. The caverns are a natural wonder, filled with many stalagmite and stalactite formations that resemble some types of ancient sculpture, and the rock inside glows with a rather eerie phosphorescence. Scientists have extensively studied these caves and have come to the conclusion that although they have existed since before humans walked the land, they were only discovered around 2743. There's really not a whole lot to say about the Classical Caverns.
"The last monument we'll cover today is the Gate of the Fallen Vengeance, set astride the Great Concourse directly to the west of Zaexopolis. The Gate was erected as a memorial to a long-ago war that you may have studied in your history classes, the Shuar War, during which one tribe of the Shuar fought with and completely decimated another. However, the last remaining Shuar tribe was wiped out by a malignant strain of the elephant influenza circa 2196. The "eleflu", as it is commonly known, does have a few mild strains which only cause cravings for circus peanuts, and thankfully these are the only ones which remain."
Just then, Scrivener Ryton's ID bracelet chimed for the end of class. He held up a warning hand to stop anyone from leaving immediately, and said "Ah, good, just in time. For homework, please submit one thousand words on two landmarks or monuments we did not cover, and their significances. In addition, I would like five hundred words on a new aspect of one of the landmarks we did discuss. That will be all." There was a collective groan from the class, and then a simultaneous rush for the door.

NaNoWriMo '09!!

2009-10-29T03:58:01Z

Hello hello! It's that time of year again, yes, you all know what I mean. I'm very much looking forward to NaNoWriMo this year, considering I'm in college now and have considerably more free time :D. Anyway, this is just a post to let you know that I'm alive and kicking, although I may not be very active on LJ this year (except perhaps in the lovely nano comms I follow - dcnano, nanoljersand nanowrimo,to name a few) because of twitter and Google Wave (babybluebutterflies@googlewave.com - I've got some more invites lying around, so if you're doing NaNo and would like an invite, drop me a comment). Also, my plot this year is not quite as worked out as in the past, but perhaps that's a good thing? Well, I'm furiously working that out, too. Three days til the insanity!!

(By the way - my genre this year is not fantasy, surprise surprise, but instead a sci-fi/cyberpunk thingamajig. Muahaha.)

SF '09 Update #3!

2009-04-07T01:29:04Z

As you can see, the updates are already trailing off... Well, here, have Scene 5, I just finished it and I'm at 12 pages now (behind, yes, but I could probably catch up - that might happen at work on Wednesday, though).

[[ btw: @libertyr, ohnoes twitter is down how will I live?! Anyway just wanted to say that November Rain just came on shuffle and I thought of you :) Also, you're probably the only one that reads this, so here you go.]]

Go back and read: [Scene 1] [Scenes 2, 3, 4]

EXT. PATH THROUGH FIELD - AFTERNOON, LATER

Aelir rides downhill on a fairly wide path, surrounded by a field of tall grass. Although there is no sign of pursuit from the castle, he urges the horse into a trot.

Time passes; after a while the slope of the hill flattens out, and Aelir can see a forest in the distance. He continues to ride, and after a while comes to a fork in the road. One leads into the forest, while the other follows its edge in the other direction. There is a faded signpost at the fork, but it can no longer be read.

Aelir dismounts and looks thoughtfully at the sign. While he is pondering and racking his memory (or lack thereof) for clues as to which way he should go, he suddenly hears hoofbeats. A rider, dressed all in black, is coming his way from the path alongside the forest. Aelir gets out of the way, moving his horse to the side of the path. As the rider comes nearer, he lifts his hand in a silent wave, and Aelir does the same in return.

The rider stops at the fork where Aelir is standing. He pushes back the wide-brimmed, black-feathered hat he is wearing to reveal a smooth face with a sharp nose and inky-black eyes; this is ILLCARIO. His eyes are expressionless, even as the man offers Aelir a 'friendly' grin.

ILLCARIO

Why hello there, fellow traveler. A fine day, is it not?

AELIR

Oh....yes, yes it is. A good day for traveling, indeed... If I'm not being presumptuous, might I ask which direction you're going?

ILLCARIO

Certainly, of course you may ask. Whether I will answer is another matter altogether.

AELIR

(taken aback)

Ah...

ILLCARIO

(chuckles)

No matter, no matter, just a little joke; I do beg your pardon. As a matter of fact, I'm bound down the eastward path, into the Koki Forest.

He gestures vaguely to the woods, which the other path of the fork disappears into. Aelir hesitates for a moment, though relieved that he is not going to the castle.

AELIR

Another question, if I may be so bold: would you mind terribly if I rode with you? I'm not familiar with this area, and as a matter of fact, I don't really have a destination of my own at the moment.

ILLCARIO

(with another broad smile)

Not at all! I'd be delighted to have some company; journeying alone can become quite monotonous at times. Well then, I suppose I should introduce myself: I am Illcario, the traveling exorcist - and quite widely known, if I do say so myself.

He doffs his hat and makes a half-bow, still mounted. Aelir mounts his horse as well and they make their way towards the forest

AELIR

I would tell you my name as well, but I'm afraid I can't remember it. You see, I seem to have lost my memory; at least, that's what I assume happened, as I can't recall anything that happened before I woke this morning. Nothing, not even my name...

ILLCARIO

(surprised)

Oh my, now that is a pickle indeed. You really can't remember a thing? I must say, I've never met anyone with amnesia before... Quite a predicament you're in.

AELIR

(nods)

It is rather disconcerting. And often something seems familiar, but I am never quite able to figure out why. No one around me this morning seemed to even notice anything wrong, so I left...that place and came along here.

ILLCARIO

Hmm, well, I'm no expert but I've heard there's nothing to do about problems like these but to wait them out. In the meantime, why not give yourself a new name?

AELIR

I never thought of that; I suppose people will need something to call me...

He thinks for a while, and they ride in silence. Illcario begins to fidget after about five minutes, and it is evident that he is a man that likes to always be doing something, and could probably fill any silence with his own chatter.

ILLCARIO

(clears throat; speaks slowly at first but speeds up as he goes on)

Ah, a name is it... I like Cadmus, myself. Or perhaps Damien? I have a cousin named Lucas, perhaps that would suit you...come to think of it, I also have relatives called Tymer, Rolf, and Biorn. Sebastian is another good one - or Deizo, I believe the King of Koki himself is called Deizo -

AELIR

(interrupts)

I think I like the name Aelir, actually. It seems familiar to me, but I can't quite tell why or from where...

ILLCARIO

(somewhat taken aback)

Aelir, is it? A somewhat unusual name, that one... Well, I suppose it suits you and your mysterious past! (laughs)

AELIR

(laughs awkwardly as well)

Yes, perhaps it does...

They continue to ride, entering the forest proper now. The light is greenish, filtering through the thick foliage.

AELIR

I meant to ask - what exactly is an exorcist? You said you were one, correct?

ILLCARIO

(with a superior tone)

Now that, my boy, is quite an explanation you're asking for! But to put it simply, exorcists exorcise - get rid of - spirits and whatnot. You know, sometimes people can just sense some sort of evil presence in their houses, and we're the ones that people hire to come in to get rid of it, of course.

AELIR

(impressed)

How on earth do you do that?

ILLCARIO

Oh, well, it takes a ritual, a bit of persuasion, and not a little magic of your own. (pauses) Look, I'm actually on my way to a house in need right now - why don't you come along and see for yourself? I seem to get the idea that what with the memory loss and all, you haven't got quite so much to do...

AELIR

That sounds interesting; I wouldn't mind coming if you're sure it's all right.

ILLCARIO

Oh, it's fine, we'll just tell them you're my apprentice.

They ride on, and as they round a bend, the path suddenly widens and they can see a fairly large manor house set in a big, grassy clearing. The sun is beginning to dip down a bit (by now it is early afternoon), and its light just hits the mica-flecked stones of the house. Illcario pulls out a card to confirm that this is indeed their destination, and then they ride to the door and dismount. Aelir holds the horses while Illcario knocks on the door and announces them to the the butler. The butler accepts Illcario's card and calls servants to take their horses. Then they are ushered inside and the wooden door shuts behind them.

SF '09 Update #2

2009-04-01T19:53:42Z

Yes, I know, another update already? Here are scenes 2, 3, and 4 (3 and 4 are just short transitions).

[Go back to Scene 1]

int. great hall - midday

A large vaulted hall, with wood-paneled walls/floors and more tapestries, lit by three giant chandeliers. There is a large amount of people gathered in the room, what seems to Aelir to be the entire population of a small kingdom such as he assumes this is (for reasons he does not know/cannot quite recall). Everyone is dressed in their most formal attire, and the overall effect is quite overwhelming. There is a slight buzz of chatter in the room, which stops as the housekeeper pushes Aelir gently into the room.

HOUSEKEEPER

Go on, now. Just down the aisle there and you'll be all set. No need to be nervous! And congratulations again, young master.

Aelir has no idea what he's supposed to be doing, but after looking around hesitantly, he steps into the room. His steps echo loudly in the expectant silence, and he can see many people in the crowd beaming at him fondly. As he takes his next uncertain step down the aisle lined with people, the band/orchestra seated in the balcony overlooking the room begins to play an upbeat tune. From that balcony, there is a staircase that leads down to a dais, upon which stands another man - King DEIZO. He is well-built, an imposing figure even from across the room, blonde and dressed all in a rather strange combination of pale yellow and lilac.

Aelir realizes he has stopped walking and everyone is waiting for him to continue. He walks more quickly now, although still not sure what for, down the aisle and to the dais. He stops before stepping up, looking into the man's eyes. Although his garb is somewhat ridiculous, it does not match his expression at all; although he is smiling slightly, his eyes are sharp and calculating. The man motions him to step up onto the dais, and Aelir does so slowly.

AELIR

(swallows nervously)

Ah...I'm sorry, I don't know...

DEIZO

(smirks slightly)

Greetings, my consort-to-be. I hope you fared the night well?

AELIR

Yes...well, I think I did. I...

DEIZO

Good, good. Well, shall we get on with the ceremony?

AELIR

Ceremony?

DEIZO

(laughs)

Come, come, no jokes. This is far too important a moment for your frivolity.

AELIR

But...well, I don't know what you mean.

DEIZO

(sharply, with an odd glint in his eye)

Must I spell it out? This is our wedding ceremony, of course. What else could it be?

Aelir can feel his eyes going wide with shock; of all the things he has imagined (unspecified), a wedding was never one of them. He backs away slightly, very slowly,

AELIR

A...a wedding? But we're both men, and I don't even know you...

DEIZO

(lowers his voice and speaks bitingly)

You carry this nonsense too far, my intended. For this much I can be lenient and chalk it all up to nerves, but if you dare take it further...

The crowd has now begun to mutter softly among themselves at the delay in the ceremony. The hushed conversation between the two men has them suspicious and wondering what is happening.

Aelir is almost panicking now, not sure what to do, how to get out of this mess. He looks around for some possible outlet, someone to save him. However, everyone in the crowd looks impatient for the wedding to begin. Just as a man in ornate white-and-gold robes begins to come down the grand staircase, carrying an old, heavy book, Aelir's eyes fall on a small side-door behind the stairs, probably a servant's entrance to the room. With one look back at Deizo, whose expression is rather threatening now,he takes another step back and then turns and jumps off the dais, running towards the door.

The crowd begins to exclaim, shouting and yelling in confusion as to why the king's intended is trying to escape. However, none of them react fast enough to catch Aelir before the door closes behind him.

int. castle hallways - IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING

Glimpses of Aelir dashing through the stone hallways, down one set of stairs and around several corners, glancing back for pursuit now and then. However, no one appears to be following him, and he relaxes slightly. Finally, he finds the kitchen and runs through it, through the midst of all the kitchen servants, who are shocked at his appearance but do not seem to recognize him. He runs out the door to the outside, leaving them staring after him.

EXT. CASTLE COURTYARD - immediately following

Aelir emerges into the daylight, blinking slightly in the brightness. The courtyard is deserted, everyone presumably in the great hall or otherwise occupied with the ceremony preparations. After looking around to make sure that it really is empty, he crosses the grassy courtyard to the stables. Disappearing inside for a few minutes, he returns with a saddled brown gelding, unremarkableenough that he hopes no one will notice it is gone until later.

AELIR (V.O.)

I get the feeling that I know how to ride and am good at it, but how, when I can remember nothing else of my past?

He mounts the horse and, with only one backward look, he rides off, through the castle gates and down the straight path leading away from it.

ScriptFrenzy '09 Update #1!

2009-04-01T18:04:10Z

Hello again! it's been a while, hasn't it? And now it's April, and time for ScriptFrenzy! It's going well so far, I'm writing in Celtx this year and it's lovely. (Why did I even try writing a graphic novel script last year? Screenplays are so much easier and much more fun.) Well, here's my first scene, the first 3 pages of my script :).

[Unfortunately all the formatting is sort of gone...]

Int. castle bedroom - morning

A stone-walled bedchamber in a large castle. The walls are richly decorated with tapestries and the mid-morning light is streaming through a tall window with a window-seat. There is a wardrobe in a corner and a large curtained four-poster bed in the center of the room, furnished with a thick mattress and down quilt, under which the shape of a person sleeping can be seen. (The curtains are half-drawn around the bed.)

The shape in the bed stirs slightly, and just then the door to the hall bursts open, admitting what seems like a crowd of servants (mostly young women, in drab gray dresses with aprons) even in the large room. They are chattering happily amongst themselves, clearly excited about something. They are being directed by a large, matronly sort of woman, the HOUSEKEEPER, and soon go about their tasks, some pulling clothes out of the wardrobe and brushing them down, others bringing in buckets of water to pour into the bathtub behind a screen in the corner of the room.

All the noise has woken the figure in the bed, and after tossing and turning for a few moments, AELIR sits up, blinking blearily. His dark brown hair is sticking up in every direction, and he shoves one hand into it, rubbing the back of his head in confusion. (Aelir has lost his memory and cannot remember anything about his past, or even who he is, etc.)

AELIR

(looking around with a furrowed brow)

...huh?

HOUSEKEEPER

(comes over and pulls open the curtains on the bed)

Ah, young master, awake, are you? Just in time, or I'd've had to wake you myself. Had a good sleep? You'll need your energy today, that's for sure. And I hope you're excited; I know all of the staff is abuzz with anticipation, as they've been for the whole week, and that's a fact.

The Housekeeper pauses for a moment to bustle over to the windows, pushing them open to let in the fresh air.

AELIR

Um...what's...who? Who are you?

HOUSEKEEPER

(bustles back over)

Well now, that must've been a right good sleep you had, seems you're a mite confused. No matter, up with you now and we'll have that handsome head of yours clear in no time.

She pulls back the covers on the bed and Aelir swings his legs over the side, still disoriented.

AELIR

Is something important happening today?

HOUSEKEEPER

(chiding)

Now, young master, you know better than to joke about such an occasion as this! It's your day today, and it'll be wonderful, just you wait.

Aelir is still confused, but he allows the woman to chivvy him out of the bed and towards the tub in the corner, where she brusquely pulls off his nightshirt and points him toward the bathtub. (By now, all/most of the other servants have left.)

HOUSEKEEPER

Have a good soak now, and make sure you scrub well. Wouldn't want to have to take the sponge to you myself, now would I?

Embarrassed, Aelir sinks below the foam/bubbles in the white porcelain tub, for the moment just doing as he is told. He cannot recall anything that occurred before he woke up in this room, not even his name.

AELIR (V.o.)

(thinking)

What's going on? I have no idea where I am or what's going on...for that matter, I have no idea who I am. I suppose I must be somewhat important, the way all these servants are in here... But just thinking about it, I can't even remember my own name! My mind is blank - the last thing I can remember is waking up this morning. I wish I knew what was happening...

After finishing his bath, Aelir catches the housekeeper's eye and she comes over with towels and a dressing gown, which he slips into after drying off. She then takes him over to the wardrobe, where the VALET is standing.

HOUSEKEEPER

I don't believe you've met your new valet yet, have you now? Well, here you go, James will get you all handsome and ready.

She bustles off to the other side of the room, and Aelir is left with the valet.

valet

(bows)

My greetings, sir, and please accept my congratulations on this most felicitous occasion.

Aelir nods awkwardly at the valet. Before long he is dressed in an outfit of tan breeches, dark brown boots, and a leaf-green brocade tunic the color of his eyes, under a long tan-and-brown embroidered overtunic/robe.

The valet offers him a full-size mirror, and Aelir peers into it curiously. He is indeed fairly handsome, with a thin face and narrow chin (?), combined with an overall slender build. Even his own face seems unfamiliar to him, and he runs a hand over it wonderingly. The valet silently waits for him to finish, and then takes away the mirror. The housekeeper returns.

HOUSEKEEPER

All ready, are we? Well, and don't you look nice - I'm sure the master will agree with me, too. Now, it's about time, why don't we go down?

AELIR (V.O.)

(thinking, with a feeling of apprehension)

The master?

Aelir can do nothing else but nod in agreement; they leave the room together.

[Go to Scenes 2, 3, and 4]

6 hours!

2008-10-31T22:18:24Z

It's almost time!! I'm very, very unprepared, but I'll live. Now I shall go off to study Japanese, and then maybe work on plot a bit....or, you know, not.

EDIT: Just found an AMAZING site! http://nine.frenchboys.net

NaNo '08 Calendar - let's see if it works.

2008-10-28T02:19:20Z

So I'm working on my plot; it's coming along, but I don't think I'll post it (to keep things mysterious). I do have a setting and MFC that I may post soon, but I have to work on other characters first.
Anyway, I'm really posting to test this - it's my Google calendar with the NaNo daily wordcounts on it.

EDIT: So no, it didn't work. Maybe this link? http://www.google.com/calendar/embed?src=p2vno3kqlbousj6pqbrivl4q6g%40group.calendar.google.com&ctz=America/New_York

Or this:

Prose Poem: Parting

2008-10-08T23:53:16Z

This was inspired by this post over in nanoljers. I didn't really follow the rules (used both pictures), but... ^_^

Wordcount: 187

Parting

"Aren't you coming?"
She dashes away across the bridge, feet light on the wooden planks. I follow her slowly, reluctantly. It is a beautiful almost-summer day, the kind of day that makes one want to break into song. But today my mind is empty. It's not that I'm sad or depressed, because I'm not; I'm just not particularly happy, either. And I can't seem to think of the reason that I'm here, with her, today.
The end of the bridge, and I step off onto an island of emerald-green grass. I spot her running towards an old, gnarled tree, arms spread wide as if flying. She spins once, then flops down in the shade. When I reach her, she seems like a resting fairy - hair like cornsilk framing her face, thick eyelashes casting shadows on her blushing cheeks. She senses me there, and her eyes flutter open, then closed again.
"Kiss me," she whispers.
I stare at her for an infinite moment, a heartbeat. Then I turn and walk away, back onto the bridge, every thudding step the slam of another door closing behind me.

Cross-posted to my writing journal, indigo_melodies.

Pre-Nano '08 Post #1

2008-10-07T03:43:51Z

Well, looks like it's that time of year again -that's right, it's OCTOBER! And right now that's 26(ish?) days to NaNoWriMo!! o_O Sooo, I don't quite have a definite plot yet, but I'm thinking that this year I want to use pictures for inspiration. I write really well from interesting pictures or maybe really abstract poems, but anyway, can anyone reccomend a good stock image gallery? (or maybe I should just use Google)

In other news...well, I think I'm going to use Q10 to write in (with lovely customized colors!), and I'll probably be in the nanowrimo AIM chatroom quite a bit. The great thing is, Fall activites end on November 4 or 6, and I'll be doing evening tech for the musical, which leaves me more time to write (I'm sure I'll need it >_<). And November 1st is a Saturday - wait, hold on, I have SAT IIs!! o_O Oh no, I can't stay up?! (But it's only my Japanese one. Hmmm.) Wellll, anyway, I'll make it work. Somehow. Oh, and I think I want to make a wordcount calendar like the one someone posted on LJ last year...

Time to end this rambling entry.

Original Fiction/Prose Poem: Moments

2008-06-14T17:50:04Z

Just something I wrote the other day...umm, yeah. I'd really like honest comments...oh, and tell me what you think the last paragraph is about!! *grin*

Moments

And there was happiness—yes, in the very air; and joy bubbled through the fountains like liquid laughter.

And shouts of merriment echoed through the corridors, bouncing off the walls and capturing the ears, minds, emotions of all.

And life seemed easy, as ever it were; the days of bright sun, the bountiful harvest of ripe wheat, the wealth of good deeds, good natures, good times.

Yet the microcosm that was the two of us remained forever untouched, unnoticed, unknown. A brief moment—your tawny-gold head thrown back, pure beauty, exhilaration—but then a return, to confusion and helplessness and yearning. One ceaselessly reaching out, hopeful, but just as ceaselessly rejected—not physically but emotionally, mentally. The other constantly in pain, forced to seek solace but filled with self-loathing for that moment that brings comfort. And so, on and on, that never-ending cycle gives pain and pleasure in equal measure, channeling out the course of our lives. Still, there will always be those magical moments, infinite yet fleeting as they are, that bring one and one together to make two, united for an instant as one.

Writer's Block: Where the Cheese Goes // Remus/Sirius Ficlet

2008-06-14T17:21:22Z

What should cheese go on, and what should cheese NOT go on?

View 501 Answers

Remus stared in disbelief as Sirius vigorously shook the shaker of parmesan over his pizza. This was evidently too slow for him, as a moment later he just unscrewed the top and dumped it all over his paper plate.

"Sirius, how can you bear to eat so much cheese?" Remus asked incredulously, taking a bite of his own unaltered slice. "I mean, there's already tons of cheese on that pizza!"

"Easy," Sirius replied, his mouth half-full of pizza.

Remus blinked. "Easy? That's not an answer," he protested.

Sirius just grinned, displaying a mouthful of cheese; Remus groaned in response. "But Moony, don't you know the moon's made of cheese?" Sirius asked after swallowing.

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"Well, you see, being a werewolf and all, maybe if you ate a whole wheel of cheese before the full moon, it wouldn't affect you anymore and you wouldn't transform!" Sirius looked ridiculously proud, as if the theory he had just stated made perfect sense.

Remus stared, tempted to bang his head on the table. "Sirius, that has got to be the most absurd, illogical, idiotic, imbecilic idea you've had yet! And the moon isn't even made of cheese!!"

Sirius' eyes were wide. "What?? Are you SERIOUS?!" The lack of the usual Sirius/serious joke told Remus how shocked Sirius really was.

"Come on, Padfoot, did you Siriusly--I mean, seriously--sleep through every Astronomy class we've ever had? It's just made out of rock!"

"Er...I might have done, yeah..." he admitted, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. After a pause, he looked vaguely defensive. "But cheese would be so much better!"

Remus sighed, head in his hands. Sometimes there was just no reasoning with Sirius. "I should've known..." he muttered to himself. "How did we get into this, anyway?"

With a sudden change of mood, Sirius got up and walked silently around to Remus' side of the table. The shadow bending over him made Remus look up in surprise as Sirius proceeded to snog him thoroughly. And as the strong taste of cheese filled Remus' mouth, he had to admit that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so bad after all.

sf post #4

2008-04-07T05:02:37Z

Current total: eleven pages. Oh look, I'm only nine pages behind...TT_TT Ah well, ganbatte!!

btw, please tell me if you see any typos/mistakes that don't look intentional. Word doesn't seem to catch things when they're in all caps... I also think my paneling is horrible so far--any comments? I'm going to try and draw out the panels for each page tomorrow...

PAGE SEVEN (six panels)

Panel 1: Top right, long rectangle (vertically). A1 is now standing, palms on the bar and slightly bent over closer to the. Her expression is calculating, and she is almost smirking/smiling with (evil? lol, not really) intent (something of that sort).

A1: BUT DIDN’T YOU DO EXACTLY THAT? I’M SURE YOU KNOW A WAY IN…

Panel 2: First row, a long rectangle (horizontally) to the right of Panel 1. The TAVERNMASTER looks alarmed and has backed away a little, with shifty eyes. Only A1’s hands on the bar can be seen, at the edge of the panel (or perhaps not).

TAVERNMASTER: B-BUT…

TAVERNMASTER: AH…I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THAT! REALLY! AND I COULDN’T GO WITH YOU EVEN IF I DID!

Panel 3: Left of Panel 2, small (longer vertically than Panel 2). The TAVERNMASTER is seen shaking his head wildly against a black background, hands held up before him in a “no, not me!” kind of gesture.

Panel 4: Second row, large. The whole tavern; a lot of the customers in the corner are now looking sideways or even staring at the pair speaking at the bar. They all have rather dark/shadowed, dull faces, but their staring gives off a weird aura full of ill intent, just as the whole town does. The corners of the room are dark, as if a spotlight is on the bar.

SFX: SILENCE

Panel 5: Third row. The TAVERNMASTER has noticed everyone staring and gives in. He hurries to the end of the bar and seems to step off of something—when he was standing behind the bar, he appeared to be the same height as A1, but now it is apparent that he is actually quite a bit shorter (not that much, but about half a foot or less). A1 is now standing, having picked up her pack once again.

Panel 6: Left of Panel 5. The TAVERNMASTER stops at a door in the back and motions to A1 to follow him; she does.

PAGE EIGHT (seven panels)

Panel 1: Fairly large. They cross an unkempt yard with broken cobblestones and grass/other weeds growing out of the cracks. A large, gnarled tree with dark bark grows from the bottom left corner, next to an outhouse. It is partially obscuring the small two-room house behind it, which is whitewashed but almost looks like it is about to crumble away. There is some sad-looking ivy growing up the side, over a boarded-up window. This is the TAVERNMASTER’S house. There are dark clouds in the sky and the wind is blowing rather hard; the tree branches are being blown towards the left edge of the panel.

SFX: WIND BLOWS

Panel 2: Left of Panel 1, but less than half the height. The TAVERNMASTER opens the wooden door of his house. Inside only a wooden table can be seen.

Panel 3: Under Panel 2, same size. A1(her back, anyway) is framed in the doorway, her right hand up on the frame. Her left fist is clenched, showing her worry and anxiety about the state of events in *INSERT NAME HERE*. A kind of herringbone-design goes down the spine of her tunic (like a bunch of large arrowheads pointing down).

Panel 4: Second row; The inside of the TAVERNMASTER’S house (view from the door). It is a plain room, with a small bedroom extending off the back. A wooden table sits on the left of the panel and in the top right corner, an old black pot-belly stove. The TAVERNMASTER is sitting at the table and he motions to A1 to do the same (she is standing behind one of the chairs, and he points to it).

TAVERNMASTER: COME, SIT.

Panel 5: Second row; view is now from the corner which the stove is in. The closed door is visible as well. The inside of the house is a good deal more stable-looking than the exterior (and everything seems to be wooden); the TAVERNMASTER obviously takes good care of it. The TAVERNMASTER sits at the head of the table (his right arm is on the table; he is possibly leaning his head on his fist, meanwhile gesturing with his left hand), with A1 on his left.

TAVERNMASTER: GOING TO THE CAPITAL IS FUTILE AND, TO SAY THE LEAST, DANGEROUS. IF YOU MUST GO, THERE’S NOTHING I CAN SAY TO DISSUADE YOU, BUT I SHALL NOT ACCOMPANY YOU FOR ANY PRICE.

SFX: A1 SIGHS

Panel 6: Third row; same setting, but angle is from the left wall of the room (almost directly on A1’s face; a ¾ view of her and a profile of him). A1’s hands are now on the table, palms up—almost as if stretched out entreatingly.

A1: INDEED, I FEEL I MUST GO. IT SEEMS I CANNOT CONVINCE YOU…

A1: ALTHOUGH IT WOULD HAVE DONE ME A SERVICE TO HAVE A GUIDE THAT KNEW THE INS AND OUTS OF THE CITY—ESPECIALLY A WAY INTO THE CITY. STILL, I SUPPOSE IT CAN’T BE HELPED…

Panel 7: Small, end of third row (left of Panel 6). Only the speech bubble on a black background.

A1: OF COURSE, WHO KNOWS WHAT’LL HAPPEN IN THE CAPITAL—OR ON THE WAY THERE, FOR THAT MATTER. A WOMAN TRAVELING ALONE…BUT I’M USED TO IT, AND I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF. NO NEED TO WORRY.

[want the other pages? click the "scriptfrenzy" tag!]

poems!

2008-04-07T04:17:42Z

I have a screnzy update to make in a minute, but first, here are two poems I've been meaning to post. I have a prose poem too, but it's not on this computer... Anyway, I did write these for English class (one of them I actually wrote in my calculus class), but I think they came out pretty well (if I do say so mysef ^^). I've submitted them to Gate [my school's literary magazine, which I'm on the staff for too], but I'm not sure which is going to be in it (I know both won't be).

So, here we go:

Unveiled

Pearl-gray stone
a tower high
Wind-blown hair--
a long-ago sigh.

A curtain of gauze
sheer spider-webbed silk;
Memories remembered
yet still beyond reach.

Red thread tugging closer
a pull gladly answered
A step through the veil
and--

[anyone know the Japanese myth? It's said that a red thread connects people that are destined to be together =]

Dust

Blood-red grass
under a glittering emerald moon
Violet dust carried by the wind
thoughts swirling into runes.

"Why?" they wonder.
"How?" they ask.
And all the while, from the vermillion sky
Dust spirals down.

[somewhat inspired by the His Dark Materials series by Philip Pullman, but ask you can see the colors are different...]

sf post #3

2008-04-05T23:10:13Z

Okay, I don't even know why but I made a (really really bad) screnzy calendar/wallpaper, just because I like to know what day is how many pages...I could have made a much better one, but Photoshop was being weird and not stroking things properly. Anyway, in case anyone wants to see/use it (which I very much doubt) here it is (size is 1024x768, btw, but it's shown as 800x600.) =]: (see lj cut at bottom)

Moving on, here are two more pages of my script. I'm finally getting somewhere, but I'm still behind...(today's quota is 16.5 pages) These pages both went over a page and I'm working on the next one now, so my current total (completed pages) is eight pages. Yay!

PAGE FIVE (four panels)

Panel 1: Top right. Both the TAVERNMASTER and A1 can be seen; the TAVERNMASTER is once again bent close to A1.

A1: NO…

A1: …?

Panel 2: Left of Panel 1; small. A view of the capital, *INSERT NAME HERE*, from far away (but not from the top down, more like a skyline view). It is a grand, obviously wealthy city, and the buildings are opulent, with gilded domes, spires, and curved roofs (this is hard to explain, but if anyone knows the Dulles International Airport near DC…like the roof of that.). If the streets are visible, they are very clean and filled with throngs of (happy) people shopping at the open-air market stalls and such. The sky is blue and clear, maybe a few clouds; a perfect summer’s day (lol).

CAP: THE CITY OF *INSERT NAME HERE*, 3 MONTHS AGO

Panel 3: Center, large establishing shot. The capital as it is currently (or more like when it was being invaded. Now it’s been taken over for a few weeks, maybe a month or so…?)—buildings burning, some broken. At the very front of the panel is the jagged edge of a half-broken dome. Smoke clouds the sky and below, in the streets, citizens flee from the approaching army (screams can be heard). The army, from—*BLANK*—is in tight, grid-like rows and columns, advancing steadily and obviously invading the city. The soldiers are all in full armor, spiked helmets and scaly steel that make them seem inhuman. …etc.

TAVERNMASTER: YOU’VE HEARD OF *BLANK COUNTRY NAME*, OF COURSE? OUR NEIGHBORS TO THE NORTHEAST, WE’VE BEEN ALLIED WITH THEM SINCE A TIME EVEN I DON’T REMEMBER (laughs bitterly).

TAVERNMASTER: BUT ABOUT FOUR MONTHS AGO, THEIR KING DECLARED HIMSELF EMPEROR OF THE *ANOTHER BLANK* EMPIRE, AND THEY BEGAN TAKING OVER THE COUNTRIES TO THEIR EAST.

TAVERNMASTER: THIS WAS SLIGHTLY DISTURBING, BUT NO ONE TOOK MUCH NOTICE—AFTER ALL, WE’D BEEN ALLIES FOR SUCH A LONG TIME. THEY WOULDN’T DO ANYTHING TO US…RIGHT?

Panel 4: Small, below Panel 3, across the entire bottom of the page. View of A1, eyes wide, looking slightly alarmed, and the TAVERNMASTER, looking rather forbidding (almost glaring at her, for no reason).

A1: UH…

TAVERNMASTER: WRONG!!

TAVERNMASTER: THEY INVADED THREE WEEKS AGO, AND TOOK OVER THE CAPITAL IN NO TIME.

TAVERNMASTER: WHOSE STUPID IDEA WAS IT TO BUILD THE CAPITAL SO CLOSE TO THE BORDER, ANYWAY…

PAGE SIX (four panels)

Panel 1: Top right. Black background (or some sort of pattern) with just the speech bubbles on it.

TAVERNMASTER: AFTER TAKING OVER THE CAPITAL, YOU’D THINK THEY’D MOVE ON TO THE REST OF THE COUNTRY, WOULDN’T YOU? BUT INSTEAD THEY’VE JUST STOPPED ANYONE FROM LEAVNG—THOSE WHO ARE STILL ALIVE—OR ENTERING THE CITY SO THAT NO ONE WILL KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING.

A1: HOW DO YOU KNOW ALL THIS, THEN?

TAVERNMASTER: AH…WELL, THAT IS, YOU SEE… (sweatdrop)

Panel 2: Left of Panel 1. A1 stares at the TAVERNMASTER with narrowed eyes, her curiosity piqued. The TAVERNMASTER looks a bit nervous and is rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

TAVERNMASTER: … (more sweatdrops)

TAVERNMASTER: …WELL, YOU SEE…

Panel 3: Second row, larger and all the way across. A tavern in the capital, full of customers being served food and drink. It looks very prosperous—the benches and tables look shiny and almost new, as does the bar. Behind the bar stands the TAVERNMASTER, also looking very well off (a contrast to his current appearance) and no longer cleaning glasses with dirty cloths. He is smiling broadly and calling out to the regulars.

TAVERNMASTER: I USED TO BE THE PROPRIETOR OF A TAVERN AND INN IN *INSERT NAME HERE*. WE HAD GREAT BUSINESS AND THE CITY WAS A GOOD PLACE TO LIVE.

TAVERNMASTER: BUT OF COURSE WHEN THE INVASION BEGAN…

TAVERNMASTER: MANY OF MY CUSTOMERS, ALONG WITH HALF OF THE STAFF, HAD BEEN KILLED. AND THOSE WHO WERE STILL ALIVE DIDN’T DARE TO BE OUT AND ABOUT. BECAUSE BUSINESS WAS SO LOW, I HAD TO LET THE REST OF MY STAFF GO, AND I ENDED UP CLOSING UP SHOP. I LEFT THE CITY AND CAME HERE…

Panel 4: Third row, back to the current tavern (from a different angle, so that it takes up the whole width). The TAVERNMASTER is looking sheepish and obviously hoping that A1 won’t pick up on the discrepancies in his last statement. But she is staring at him with one thin eyebrow raised and a skeptical look on her face.

TAVERNMASTER: UH…

A1: SO EXACTLY HOW DID YOU LEAVE? I THOUGHT YOU SAID THE CITY WAS CLOSED?

TAVERNMASTER: …HEH. LET’S JUST SAY I HAD MY OWN WAYS.

(panel break?)

A1: RIGHT…

A1: IN ANY CASE, NOW THAT YOU’VE TOLD ME ALL THIS…I MUST GET TO THE CITY AND FIND OUT WHAT’S HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY! MY GRANDPARENTS, MY AUNT, AND MY COUSINS ALL LIVE THERE, I HAVE TO KNOW IF THEY’RE ALL RIGHT.

TAVERNMASTER: GIRL, HAVEN’T YOU BEEN LISTENING? NO ONE CAN GET IN OR OUT OF THE CITY!

Calendar/Wallpaper

SF Post #2

2008-04-01T22:07:00Z

I got out of tech early, so I ended up writing a whole two more pages. I'm actually ahead! (kind of) Hopefully I can continue like this =].

PAGE THREE (four panels)

Panel 1: Long, across the top of the page. A1 is seen pushing open the door of the TAVERN. The doro (door xD) is made of grainy wood with a few knotholes still in it. It creaks as if the hinges have not been oiled for a very long time. Perhaps some of the inside of the tavern can be seen past it.

SFX: DOOR CREAKS

Panel 2: Establishing shot—The inside of the TAVERN. It is practically empty, with only a few customers huddled in the shadowy corners. Tables and benches are scattered around the room. There is no apparent light source, but it is very dim and the light seems to center around/come from the bar (which looks like a tree-trunk without bark). The TAVERNMASTER is wiping glasses behind the bar with a rather dubious-looking rag. He looks up slightly in this panel. The TAVERNMASTER is quite old and has a long, thin beard; an apron can be seen underneath the beard. The top of his head is completely bald. Only the top of A1’s head can be seen, silhouetted in the doorway.

TAVERNMASTER: W-WELCOME…

Panel 3: Smaller. A1 walks towards the bar. Only her top half can be seen.

Panel 4: On the left of Panel 3, about the same size or a little larger. A1 starts to sit down on a tree-stump barstool, sliding her pack off her shoulder to the floor.

ADVENTURER #1: HELLO.

A1: DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO EAT?

PAGE FOUR (six panels)

Panel 1: Small. The TAVERNMASTER shakes his head almost violently, saying nothing. He is staring at A1 with rather wide and scared eyes.

Panel 2: Left of Panel 1, wider. View of both the TAVERNMASTER and A1. A1 looks concerned; her brow is furrowed.

A1: IS SOMETHING WRONG?

Panel 3: Entire second row. The TAVERNMASTER looks around furtively, making sure none of the other patrons are listening but only managing to look comical (his beard flies side to side as he looks around).

Panel 4: Third row, larger. The TAVERNMASTER begins to speak in a hushed tone, his head bent lower to the bar. A1 bends her head closer as well to hear what he says, her hair slightly falling over her face.

TAVERNMASTER: WHY ARE YOU HERE??

A1: I’M JUST PASSING THROUGH ON MY WAY TO THE CAPITAL, WHY? I WAS HOPING FOR ROOM AND BOARD FOR THE NIGHT…

TAVERNMASTER: YOU MUST LEAVE AT ONCE! IT IS NOT SAFE FOR OUTSIDERS TO BE HERE AT NIGHT. GO BACK THE WAY YOU CAME.

Panel 5: Fourth row. Same situation as Panel 4, but perhaps from a top view or just a view from farther away.

A1: BACK THE WAY I CAME? BUT I HOPE TO VISIT MY COUSINS IN THE CAPITAL…

Panel 6: Left of Panel 5. Only the TAVERNMASTER can be seen, with a worried look on his face and both hands palm-down on the bar.

TAVERNMASTER: THAT’S NOT POSSIBLE! DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT HAS HAPPENED?

SF Post #1

2008-04-01T05:51:49Z

I've only done two pages and I'm falling asleep so I think I'll post those now and try to catch up a bit later (yeah right). I'm just copy-pasting from MS Word, so I don't know how the formatting will work out. As long as you can read it....

*layout will be RIGHT to LEFT

PAGE ZERO—Title Page (one panel)—OR Title on Panel 1 of PAGEONE

PAGE ONE (two panels)

Panel 1: Establishing shot—Evening. A narrow cobblestone road stretching off into the distance, running through a small town. Some of the stones are worn down and there are potholes here and there. Both sides of the street are lined with odd houses—they are all round or oval, all organic shapes with only curved lines and no corners. The houses bear a strange resemblance to different varieties of mushrooms, and are painted in earth-tones. Many of them are rather dilapidated—the paint is peeling, several windows are boarded up, etc. Several small alleyways and sidestreets branch off from the main road, surprisingly devoid of garbage or any other rubbish. No one is around, and the slightly eerie wind blows dead leaves into the air. It is cool but not uncomfortably cold, an evening at the end of autumn.

SFX: WIND BLOWING

Panel 2: Close up across the bottom of the page—Someone’s boots can be seen against the cobblestones. They are evidently a traveler’s; they are dusty and scuffed; they’ve probably seen better days. However, they are made of good leather and were probably expensive when they were first bought. The boots and the feet in them are small, probably a woman’s. Next to the boots rests a leather knapsack; again, something a traveler might use, but in better condition than the boots. It is about half-full, but still looks very heavy. A water canteen is attached to its side, but it is completely empty. A hand (left) can just be seen (half cut-off, at the top of the panel), holding the pack’s straps. It has slender, dark-skinned fingers, one of which (the middle finger) bears an ornate yet not ostentatious silver ring.

PAGE TWO (four panels)

Panel 1: A small box in the top right-hand corner. The pack had been picked up and is now slung on an unidentifiable shoulder, held by the same hand from Page One Panel 2. Only the straps of the bag can be seen against the woman’s arm, with the top only just showing at the edge of the panel. Perhaps she is just pulling the bag onto her shoulder

Panel 2: A large, borderless panel under all others on the page, slightly off-center (a little to the right). A full-length, three-quarters view of the woman can now be seen. She has half-curly, half-wavy shoulder-length black hair, and bangs that cut across the left side of her face, partially obscuring her left eye. Her eyes are a bit narrowed. She is wearing a knee-length tunic—with a slightly high (Chinese-ish) collar and elbow-length sleeves—that buttons to just above the waist. The tunic appears to be black and the buttons silver, matching the dark gray leggings the woman wears under the tunic. She is, of course, wearing the boots from Page One Panel 2, and her left hand is holding the pack on her left shoulder. She appears to be trying to decide where to go next, looking down the street (she is standing in the middle of the street, which goes off next to the bottom left corner of the page). For the moment, we shall call her ADVENTURER #1 (abbreviated as A1).

Panel 3: Medium-sized, on the left edge of the page. One of the town’s houses/shops bears a large, curved sign with some sort of writing that resembles chicken scratches on it. A smaller sign below bears the words TAVERN upon it.

Panel 4: About the same size as Panel 1, placed under Panel 3 in the bottom left corner. A1’s feet, shown going away from the viewer, down the road to the tavern from Panel 3.

SFX: FOOSTEPS ECHO (should go across page into other panels)

ScriptFrenzy '08!

2008-03-31T23:20:41Z

Hello again! [and wtf is up with the photobucket logo all over my page? I think it's time for a new layout...] I have two poems and a prose poem to post sometime very soon, but first, it's time for my next literary endeavor! Namely...

ScriptFrenzy! 100 page of some sort of script in the month of April. That comes down to 3.3 pages a day, or as I like to think, 3-4 pages a day xD (why is that different? I don't know either.) Despite that I don't really have any plot whatsoever--only a vague fantasy-genre idea and an image of the first page (did I mention I'm doing a graphic novel script?)--I think this could possibly be a whole lot easier than NaNoWriMo to actually finish. But of course we'll see about that...

I'm going to go eat dinner and brainstorm plot at the same time. And, of course, I'll be starting tonight after 12. Good luck to everyone else doing SF!

crap, I just wrote a whole entry and then I lost it.

2007-12-02T05:27:23Z

This is a great example of what can be accomplished in only the last 5 days of NaNoo. It's a really funny choose-your-own-adventure novel by

smeddley. Now I wish I'd done something like it instead of quitting...*sigh*

Anyway, that Answers.com writing thing? I think I'm going to list all the words you have to use (and their meanings) here, just so I don't forget. I really hope I can actually write something for this (I've kind of got an idea...maybe), and then maybe submit it to GATE? Hm.

So, words:
"A lick and a promise" - basically doing something quickly/shabbily now and "promising" to do better later
Ataraxia - perfect peace of mind/detachment
Contraband - illegal goods
Halva - can be a bunch of different things, but they're all sweets made of sesame seeds or honey or semolina etc.
Mantic - prophetic
Praxis - the application/practice of some kind of knowledge
Sapid - flavorful, savory
Semilunar - half-moon/crescent shaped
Zeitgeist - the "spririt of the time", the culture of a time period

So, I can make something out of these by the 21st, right? Right?? *crosses fingers*

nano "update"

2007-11-23T06:43:09Z

I think I'm done.

Not done as in "omfg I reached 50,000 words" but done meaning "I can't do this anymore."
Seriously, it's not working. It's just stressing me out right now, and that's not a good thing with the migraines I've been getting (okay, only two so far, but I don't want another, thanks). Plus I'm not supposed to be on the computer so much in case it gives me one.

Yeah, they really are excuses, but...I just don't want to do it anymore either. So I'm done. The end. I'll try again next year.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of trying this.

because it seemed appropriate....plus I love this song and FFX-2 <3

2007-11-11T22:03:01Z

Oh a thousand words
One thousand embraces
Will cradle you
Making all of your weary days seem far away
They'll hold you forever

Oh a thousand words
Have never been spoken
They'll fly to you
They'll carry you home and back into my arms
Suspended on silver wings

And a thousand words
Call out through the ages
They'll cradle you
Turning all of the lonely years to only days
They'll hold you forever

By the way--THIS is the most awesome word processor ever, especially for NaNo. Always shows current word count, only works in full-screen mode, a timer for word wars that tells you how many words you wrote in the time, you can set a target word count, see how many words you've got for a chapter or since you started writing, and you can also make it autosave however you want. And did I mention TYPEWRITER SOUNDS? Lol. No, seriously, I'm definitely installing it onto my USB drive too (PortableApps). Now I just need to write!

you make me want to be a man

2007-11-10T05:46:32Z

Two random things I like about my novel atm:

1. The random gay couple I just added in. Okay, so it's not obvious in the novel that they're gay YET, but it will be <3.

2. A new character (no, she's not actually in it yet either...>_<"): tall, dark-skinned, silver-gray eyes, a lock of white hair over one eye and the rest of her head shaved and tattooed (yeah, yeah, random, I know... sort of like the viera from FFXII, only they weren't bald). I'm thinking about making the tattoos "special" but I don't want to steal ideas from the Circle books/the Uglies series (<333). And I think she'll be one of the elves.

Hmm, also...more randomness.

I really wanna tell you something
This is just the way I am
I really wanna tell you something, but I can't
You make me want to be a man
Arguments that have no meaning
This is just the way I am
You really wanna tell me something, but you can't
You make me want to be a man
Utada Hikaru--You Make Me Want to be a Man

It's from her English album (Exodus), which is good. This song is kind of catchy, too, but..hmm...I just looked it up and apparently it has to do with robots/androids/something (at least in the music vid). And here I had a totally different idea...

Um, so, completely pointless entry anyone?

ooh look a wordcount meter

2007-11-05T16:51:50Z

3,251 / 50,000
(6.5%)