Status

Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
They say it's about the journey, not the destination. This is true of many things. Pizza delivery is not one of them.
4 likes
3 yrs ago
TFW you know what you want to happen but the words aren't cooperating. Why is plot suddenly so much harder to write?
8 likes
3 yrs ago
You can't fix a blank page ~ Neil Gaiman
3 likes
3 yrs ago
Neil Gaiman on Friday. Neil Gaiman on Friday. NeilGaimanonFriday NEilGaimanonFridaYNEILGAIMANONFRIDAY NEILGAIMANAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
2 likes
3 yrs ago
So ded. Cannot brain. Just one massive poorly coordinated and balance-lacking headache. But don't send help. I don't want to people either. X.x
4 likes

Bio

I am an adult, though I don't usually act like it. I'm a voracious reader, and not overly picky about books. I am artistic in a variety of areas, including music, drawing, writing, and sculpting. I have a minor obsession with dragons, and love the color violet. Fantasy is my preferred genre, be it past, future, urban...as long as it has a fantasy flavor to it. I also like scifi, mystery, and some horror. I am crazy, and I like tormenting my characters. But I don't bite...much. ^.~


Color Sergeant in Bot Killer Squad

Most Recent Posts

Ziotea finished checking over her armor and got to her feet. The dusk sky to the west reminded her a bit of the trees she'd seen in Idden-Mar, all oranges and reds, but that wasn't what interested her at the moment. She turned to look eastward, at the paired glaciers pointing the way to the Narrow Gates. Somewhere ahead of them lay three damaged ships, and an unknown enemy. The thought was both exciting and worrisome.

She glanced around at the others of their little expeditionary force, wondering in passing what was going through their minds. Overhead the thin, shimmering barrier of Ragnar's aegis kept out the worst of the cold and the wind. Ziotea looked around for Ragnar himself, spotting him on the upper deck. She made her way in that direction, but Galahad arrived before she did by quite a bit. She would have joined them, but from the look of it the two were arguing. Not my affair, she thought to herself, giving the pair space to sort it out. It was odd for them to fight, but she supposed any relationship had rocky portions.

Instead she turned eastward again, regarding the reflected gold of the glaciers, taking the time to appreciate the view. The colors were odd but Ziotea found they were growing on her, much like the sunset behind her. She stayed that way for a few minutes, just fixing the image in her mind. Somewhere ahead ether sparked, and she wondered if it was from their destination. After a moment, though, she realized it couldn't be, for it was getting closer at an alarming rate.

"Ragnar, everyone, be ready. We have incoming," she shouted. "Some sort of powerful magic attack, it'll be on us in a moment--" She could see it by then, a massive ball of white ether speeding toward the Sword of Dawn. "Ragnar, it's up to you to protect us!"
"A bored murderer?" Alys said. "Just what we need. Someone who kills people because he doesn't have anything better to do with his time." She sighed. "That will only lead to more killings, I think. Best if we stop him quickly."

Finny brought up a possible connection between phases of the moon and the murders themselves, and Alyssana gave the idea due consideration. "I suppose it's possible," she said at last. "Do we have a timeline of the various murders and an almanac? We could compare the two sets of data."
"Hmm." Alyssana finally took a seat, settling gracefully the chair next to Finnegan. He'd brought up a good point, that the melody to Twinkle Twinkle was in fact shared by several other songs set to the same tune. "'Ah vous dirais-je, Maman' is not a particularly shy tune. The ABCs are mostly factual. As for 'Baa Baa Black Sheep'," she paused. "I suppose sheep might be seen as shy, but there's no particular reason to think so." She sighed. "Of all these things, I'd think the moon would be the most shy, actually. After all, it's the only one that hides its face regularly -- so to speak. Perhaps a location with 'moon' in the name...but that's still terribly vague."
Alyssana took the proffered paper and looked it over. The paper itself lacked a watermark, and the hand seemed to be a lady's -- probably the mentioned Madam Sophronia. The rhyme was the only notable thing she could discern, and she said as much. "It's based on Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," she added, smoothing the creases from the paper, "which brings to mind an observatory or somewhere with a good view of the sky, but the changes seem to indicate music and dancing. As a clue, it probably refers to a location." Alyssana frowned, passing the paper back. "There's really not much to go on here. It could be referring to the monarch butterflies and their yearly migration, for all the indication it gives." She looked at Finnegan. "What about you, Finny, what do you make of it?"
Valentine of Luxième


Anastasiy had similar problems? Valentine found that hard to believe, and yet something about his manner, his lack of confidence in sharing, told her that maybe she was wrong. Other people had problems too, even royalty. She had to remember that.

"It's a pleasure to meet both of you," she said, finding enough courage to give them a small smile. Her own accent was light, just a gentle shaping of vowels and the occasional consonant, a result of learning English as a young girl and using it often online. "Ah...I'm here on my own...so would it be alright if I joined you two for the day, or at least part of it?" Valentine wanted to get to know the pair better, especially Arseniy. If she was to marry the man, she wanted to know more about him and what he was like. And perhaps, if his brother had issues with crowds as well, her first impression wasn't as disastrous as she felt it to be. "I've never been to a big park like this before...."
Maxwell Thomas
morning
cafeteria


"Replace 'tiresome' with just 'tired' and I'll agree," Maxwell told Jason, taking a deep drink of his coffee despite the temperature. "I was up late studying. Almost skipped my morning jog, but doing that once only leads to doing it again and before you know it you've stopped jogging altogether."

Max looked across the table at Felix when prompted, but just shrugged. "I'm a physician not a psychiatrist, but I'd say from the sound of it he's not really interested in talking. Nothing wrong with that. Sometimes a man just wants to enjoy his breakfast in peace, y'know?"

The fourth guy at the table -- had he said his name was Luke? -- went and made some ridiculous comment that had the table feeling tense. Maxwell didn't understand what the big deal was. From the sound of what Felix had said, Luke was intruding where he wasn't wanted and now the guy was making a fuss about being verbally fended off?

Oh and now he was talking to Max, asking for a name. "I didn't give it, but I'm Maxwell," he replied mildly, before taking another drink of his coffee. There were a lot of things he could have said to Luke, but in the end he just let the man's ridiculous behavior go. It was too early in the morning for drama.
Rhiannon of Wales


Rhia checked her makeup one last time in the mirror, and ran a hand over her blue-jean clad hips. She'd gone with minimial jewelry, and her plastic studs matched the floral accents on her yellow tunic top. A similarly colored floral scarf served as a headband, and sneakers rounded out her wardrobe for the day. A casual outfit, but still stylish.

Rhia rode with Lea and Ivy to the park, happy to spend some time with her cousins, but as soon as she was out of the car she bid the girls farewell for the moment and headed for Chris and Leo. "Hey you two~" she called, catching up easily. "Ready to hit the rides?" Rhia grinned wide at her friends, hoping they both were game. "Sorry I missed the first event, but I had this negotiation I had to be a part of -- you know how it goes. I'm here now, though, and ready to have fun. I know my way around the park, but I've got a map too, in case there's anything specific you guys wanna hit." She held up a worn brochure, probably from her last visit to the amusement park.
Valentine of Luxième


Someone was talking to her. A tall man, dressed in black and gold. Anastasiy of Glavnya, her brain supplied after a long moment. It was busy freaking out that someone had approached -- was bearing witness to her inadequacy. Valentine had to say something, some sort of reply. She gathered her nerve and took a deep breath -- and was promptly interrupted by a second person.

Arseniy, her brain supplied, this time much more quickly. Then it unhelpfully added, The man you have to marry. Val blanched. She wasn't ready to be married, wasn't ready to think about marriage. It's this or Anton, she reminded herself firmly, trying to find a thread of calm in what was rapidly approaching panic.

"I-I--" The sentence got stuck in her throat. Valentine took a deep, deliberate breath and tried again. "I n-need to sit down." It came out squeaky with tension, but at least she'd said it. The three of them made their way over to a clear park bench. It was reassuring, in a way, being flanked by two concerned individuals. They served as a barrier between her and the tides of humanity attending the park.

Once seated, Val pushed out another sentence. "Give me a minute, p-please?" Taking another deep breath, Val focused on a grounding exercise. Four things she could see -- well there was a ferris wheel, and the flags at the gate, and the two men next to her, and the cars in the lot. Three things she could hear? People talking, the music from hidden speakers, and screams from people on a roller coaster nearby. Two things she could feel was easy. The bench was firm beneath her, and the texture of her bag's strap was familiar. One thing she could smell was a little harder, but she thought she could catch a whiff of popcorn and fried foods from inside the park.

Having gone through all that, Val felt a lot calmer, calm enough to make conversation. It would still be an effort, but she owed the two Glavnyans an explanation. "I'm sorry," she started, looking down at her lap. Crowds are hard, sometimes." With a bit more effort she looked at their faces, first Anastasiy, and then Arseniy. "Thank you for keeping me company. I'm Valentine." She didn't need introductions from them, but the routine of it would be reassuring.
Maxwell Thomas
morning
cafeteria


It had been an early morning as usual for Maxwell, who'd gotten up to jog his daily mile before breakfast. The track was mostly clear, just a few other early-morning joggers, not enough to be considered a crowd. That was fine with Maxwell, who didn't care to talk much until he'd gotten his mile done. Then it was back to the dorms for a shower and to get ready for the day.

In the cafeteria Max looked around for folks he knew. His gaze landed on Jason Pierce, the so-called "delinquent", but actually a pretty nice guy. Maxwell threaded his way across the room to Jason's table and slid into an open seat. Two others were there, apparently having a conversation about a breakup, so Max politely focused on his friend.

"Jason, how's it going? ...Is that mashed potato on your collar? What happened this time?" Maxwell hoped it wasn't another fight. The two had met when Jason was in a fight. Max had tried to intervene, but ended up making things worse and needing protecting himself.
Valentine

Val looked out of the car at the mass of people near the park entrance. She wished desperately that Anton had come -- that would make her feel safer. But she could do this. She had to.

"Are you alright, Valentine?" Ianos asked her. He'd driven her from the Amerian palace but wouldn't be coming in the park with her.

"I'll manage," the young woman told him, praying that she would, in fact, manage. Reluctantly she got out of the car, adjusting the crossbody bag that held her cheaper camera, a water bottle, and other essentials. She'd applied sunscreen back at the palace and a ball cap kept the sun from her eyes as she looked around. She knew all of the royals by sight, having studied names and faces before her arrival, but she didn't really know any of them, with one or two exceptions.

She took a few steps away from the car, and then it hit her. Just how many people there were. How alone she was. The breath caught in her throat and a vague buzzing filled her ears. No, not an anxiety attack. Not now, not in front of all these people. Breathe, Val! she ordered herself. Focus on breathing. You can do that. If she just got past this, the rest of the day would be easy in comparison.
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