Title: N/A (this was a writing experiment)
A/N: I wanted to experiment with writing things that didn't make sense, which is what happened here. I have no idea what was happening, I literally wrote the first thing that popped into my head. I also wanted to include description in such a way that nobody would really notice and go 'oh, chunk of description.' because that's what usually happens to me *sigh*
P.S. If this means anything to you at all, please tell me.
He was running through the forest, under the eaves of darkness. The trees were invisible, blending neatly into the darkness of the night sky. The leaves rustled so evenly that it became a part of the background: droning on and unheeded by the human senses. There were no stars in the sky--it was a cloudy night--but even if there was, the man couldn't see them. They were blocked by the thick canopy above.
There didn't seem to be anyone--or anything--behind him, but the man kept running. He had to get out, he had to get somewhere else, somewhere that wasn't so...
He shook his head, then suddenly burst into a clearing, and he could just see the dawn of a new day as the sun shed its light onto the clouds. There was a river, there were children laughing, unaware of the hidden danger that lurked. There were women sitting outside their houses on a hot summer's day, exchanging stories. There were men newly returned from the hunt, dragging carcasses behind them.
The man watching hesitated for the slightest second, and turned almost as if to go back into the forest. But there was no longer a forest. It was a dirt road, neatly made, stretching on for miles on end and leading towards the sun. He couldn't raise his eyes and stare at the ball of fire. Instead, he kept his eyes on his feet, and began to walk.
Then, slowly, the village behind him faded from sight. There was no one else. Only him.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Feeding Time [Original Fiction]
Title: Feeding Time
Fandom: Alternate
Character(s): Vaidryn Benitez Leal and his pet tiger
Other: I'm lazy today, so this will be very very short.
When Damian and Laik had left, Vaidryn spoke to Quillenn briefly on the phone. Five hundred soldiers should be more than enough to subdue two elusive outlaws. Of course, there was the possibility of escaping back to their own universe, but that chance wasn't high at all.
Was it?
No, it was impossible. They didn't know that the portal couldn't be moved. He most certainly had the upper hand.
Vaidryn's eyes slid over to the tiger, now awake once more and pacing expectantly. He wanted food, and he wanted it now. Sighing, Vaidryn opened the door and walked out then, moments later, returned with a huge raw steak. He threw it into the cage, and watched as the tiger ripped it up.
"Good boy," he told the tiger, smiling.
Fandom: Alternate
Character(s): Vaidryn Benitez Leal and his pet tiger
Other: I'm lazy today, so this will be very very short.
When Damian and Laik had left, Vaidryn spoke to Quillenn briefly on the phone. Five hundred soldiers should be more than enough to subdue two elusive outlaws. Of course, there was the possibility of escaping back to their own universe, but that chance wasn't high at all.
Was it?
No, it was impossible. They didn't know that the portal couldn't be moved. He most certainly had the upper hand.
Vaidryn's eyes slid over to the tiger, now awake once more and pacing expectantly. He wanted food, and he wanted it now. Sighing, Vaidryn opened the door and walked out then, moments later, returned with a huge raw steak. He threw it into the cage, and watched as the tiger ripped it up.
"Good boy," he told the tiger, smiling.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
I will come back [Silmarillion]
Title: I will come back
Fandom: The Silmarillion
Character(s): Ereinion Gil-galad, Fingon
Warning: Spoilers for character deaths (and the Battle of Unnumbered Tears...)
Based on: A picture on deviantArt by kittykatkanie titled 'I will come back for you'. It's so cute and sad D:
I looked up at atar, then at the bearded stranger behind me. Then back at atar, who was smiling. He was High King now--his crown did nothing but make him the more beautiful, skin glowing like a pale flame, and stunning midnight black hair. It was an awe-inspiring sight.
"Ereinion," Atar said to me, "for the next few years, Cirdan will look after you. Is that okay?"
I shook my head. No, it wasn't okay at all. Where was atar going? Isn't atar coming to live with us? What about amil? But I didn't say anything. To be completely honest, I didn't want to know.
Atar sighed, and knelt down so that he was my height. "Ereinion," he said again, looking me in the eye, "you are still young. You do not understand. Out there is war, and pain, and suffering. People are dying every day. I do not want you to be one of them."
I shook my head again, vision blurring with tears. "But what about you, atar? Why don't you come with me? I don't want you to die, too."
He smiled at me, but it was a sad smile. "My people need a leader," he said, and I could tell that he was proud to lead the Noldor. "I will guide them. I am High King now, I have a responsibility. So please, Ereinion..." He picked me up and stood up, hugging me. I latched my hands behind his neck. My tears fell, unhindered, as I sobbed into his shoulder.
"Don't leave...atar..."
"I will come back for you, Ereinion."
He set me down and left, just like that.
I never saw atar again, though I still remember what he looks like. How my hand ran through his soft hair. How he outshone even Arien in his brightness. How his eyes glinted with pride, and yet were darkened with sorrow. And those who escaped from the Nírnaeth Arnoediad tell me that he fought proudly, to the end, and enemies fled before him, and none could match his prowess.
And I wept as Cirdan set the crown of the High King on my head.
Fandom: The Silmarillion
Character(s): Ereinion Gil-galad, Fingon
Warning: Spoilers for character deaths (and the Battle of Unnumbered Tears...)
Based on: A picture on deviantArt by kittykatkanie titled 'I will come back for you'. It's so cute and sad D:
I looked up at atar, then at the bearded stranger behind me. Then back at atar, who was smiling. He was High King now--his crown did nothing but make him the more beautiful, skin glowing like a pale flame, and stunning midnight black hair. It was an awe-inspiring sight.
"Ereinion," Atar said to me, "for the next few years, Cirdan will look after you. Is that okay?"
I shook my head. No, it wasn't okay at all. Where was atar going? Isn't atar coming to live with us? What about amil? But I didn't say anything. To be completely honest, I didn't want to know.
Atar sighed, and knelt down so that he was my height. "Ereinion," he said again, looking me in the eye, "you are still young. You do not understand. Out there is war, and pain, and suffering. People are dying every day. I do not want you to be one of them."
I shook my head again, vision blurring with tears. "But what about you, atar? Why don't you come with me? I don't want you to die, too."
He smiled at me, but it was a sad smile. "My people need a leader," he said, and I could tell that he was proud to lead the Noldor. "I will guide them. I am High King now, I have a responsibility. So please, Ereinion..." He picked me up and stood up, hugging me. I latched my hands behind his neck. My tears fell, unhindered, as I sobbed into his shoulder.
"Don't leave...atar..."
"I will come back for you, Ereinion."
He set me down and left, just like that.
I never saw atar again, though I still remember what he looks like. How my hand ran through his soft hair. How he outshone even Arien in his brightness. How his eyes glinted with pride, and yet were darkened with sorrow. And those who escaped from the Nírnaeth Arnoediad tell me that he fought proudly, to the end, and enemies fled before him, and none could match his prowess.
And I wept as Cirdan set the crown of the High King on my head.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The Chase [Original Fiction]
Title: The Chase [begins]
Fandom: Alternate (Original fiction)
Character(s): Echo Nightingale, Vaidryn Benitez. [Mentioned: Laik Campbell, Damian Farrow]
Other: To celebrate Damian completing his mission--that is, finding the Key (but he still has to get out alive >.>), I have decided to write Echo/Vaidryn's reactions. Haha, what a fail celebration. Yeah, this won't make any sense to anyone except me 8D
Echo Nightingale stumbled into the private elevator prepared for her, and collapsed onto the couch. Vaidryn was going to kill her. She was so, so dead.
How was she supposed to know that they weren't caught? That they knew what was going on? The control room... Yes, that was guarded, but they must have knocked out the guards.
White hot anger shot through her. Those idiots just came in and ruined her life. They were not going to escape!
The elevator doors opened. Vaidryn turned around and smiled her. Opposite him, Laik was helping himself to some dried apricots.
"Did you find it, Echo?" asked Vaidryn, though there was really only one answer. Or so he thought.
"Uh..." Echo paused for a second. "We did find it, my lord, but..." She hesitated, and Vaidryn's patience disappeared. He looked into her mind; into the events that had just taken place. His eyes hardened with anger, but that was the only reaction.
"That's okay, Echo," he said. "You can take a break. Damian and Laik will handle the rest."
Fandom: Alternate (Original fiction)
Character(s): Echo Nightingale, Vaidryn Benitez. [Mentioned: Laik Campbell, Damian Farrow]
Other: To celebrate Damian completing his mission--that is, finding the Key (but he still has to get out alive >.>), I have decided to write Echo/Vaidryn's reactions. Haha, what a fail celebration. Yeah, this won't make any sense to anyone except me 8D
Echo Nightingale stumbled into the private elevator prepared for her, and collapsed onto the couch. Vaidryn was going to kill her. She was so, so dead.
How was she supposed to know that they weren't caught? That they knew what was going on? The control room... Yes, that was guarded, but they must have knocked out the guards.
White hot anger shot through her. Those idiots just came in and ruined her life. They were not going to escape!
The elevator doors opened. Vaidryn turned around and smiled her. Opposite him, Laik was helping himself to some dried apricots.
"Did you find it, Echo?" asked Vaidryn, though there was really only one answer. Or so he thought.
"Uh..." Echo paused for a second. "We did find it, my lord, but..." She hesitated, and Vaidryn's patience disappeared. He looked into her mind; into the events that had just taken place. His eyes hardened with anger, but that was the only reaction.
"That's okay, Echo," he said. "You can take a break. Damian and Laik will handle the rest."
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Rant - Anthony Horowitz
I am currently high on Scorpia Rising, but there will be no spoilers in this (except names).
I will now rant about the awesome that is Anthony Horowitz, and how awesome he is, and more about his awesomeness, and his way to give-us-background-info (aka pad) without making it seem like background info, and lots of other stuff.
I guess I should say I started reading his Alex Rider series in year 5, and loved it immediately. I still love it now. Scorpia Rising was amazing. I think the characters of Yassen Gregorovich and Julius Grief will have a special place in my heart ^-^ Anyway, back to what I was saying.
AH was one of the first people who influenced my writing style. If I didn't know how to write the next part, I'd try to copy how he wrote it. And I'm still doing that *fails*. He taught me the one-line paragraph, and my habit of adding 'and' to the start of a sentence comes from there too. With dialogue, not so much, I developed my own style on that. Description is a mixture of Harry Potter and LOTR (weirdest mixture ever, which is why my description fails).
Um, let's see. Oh, yes! I also end a lot of my chapters with a single short paragraph (often a one-liner), which he does a lot of the time.
I really admire how he doesn't change scenes! Gahhhh, it's killing me. My scenes change like, once every 500 words, and I tend to want to change POVs an awful lot. AH just keeps writing and improving the scene and making it more interesting, and I have no idea how he does that. Amazing.
Not to mention the amount of research put into it. Just researching how guns work is making my head spin, and I don't have that much time anyway. One minute spent researching is one minute spent on not writing.
Also, I love how he writes villains. Just saying. (I especially especially love the start of Scorpia Rising...Prisoner 7 and Over the Edge are two awesome chapters.)
Sometimes, AH characters are awesome and realistic (read: Yassen), but about the character of Sabina Pleasure. Gahhh. She is just so...pointless. I don't hate her, but I don't like her either. Oh right, I was talking about writing styles.
His foreshadowing is awesome, even if I can tell sometimes that it's foreshadowing. The detail he puts into characters, settings, equipment, organisations, everything is so detailed. And I would not want to research how Invisible Sword works, it sounds complicated. (Actually, they all sound complicated, but give Scorpia some credit!)
So yeah, I think this rant has been long enough, and I think you get my general point that Anthony Horowitz is awesome. I can't wait for Yassen and AH's new Sherlock Holmes novel! 8D
I will now rant about the awesome that is Anthony Horowitz, and how awesome he is, and more about his awesomeness, and his way to give-us-background-info (aka pad) without making it seem like background info, and lots of other stuff.
I guess I should say I started reading his Alex Rider series in year 5, and loved it immediately. I still love it now. Scorpia Rising was amazing. I think the characters of Yassen Gregorovich and Julius Grief will have a special place in my heart ^-^ Anyway, back to what I was saying.
AH was one of the first people who influenced my writing style. If I didn't know how to write the next part, I'd try to copy how he wrote it. And I'm still doing that *fails*. He taught me the one-line paragraph, and my habit of adding 'and' to the start of a sentence comes from there too. With dialogue, not so much, I developed my own style on that. Description is a mixture of Harry Potter and LOTR (weirdest mixture ever, which is why my description fails).
Um, let's see. Oh, yes! I also end a lot of my chapters with a single short paragraph (often a one-liner), which he does a lot of the time.
I really admire how he doesn't change scenes! Gahhhh, it's killing me. My scenes change like, once every 500 words, and I tend to want to change POVs an awful lot. AH just keeps writing and improving the scene and making it more interesting, and I have no idea how he does that. Amazing.
Not to mention the amount of research put into it. Just researching how guns work is making my head spin, and I don't have that much time anyway. One minute spent researching is one minute spent on not writing.
Also, I love how he writes villains. Just saying. (I especially especially love the start of Scorpia Rising...Prisoner 7 and Over the Edge are two awesome chapters.)
Sometimes, AH characters are awesome and realistic (read: Yassen), but about the character of Sabina Pleasure. Gahhh. She is just so...pointless. I don't hate her, but I don't like her either. Oh right, I was talking about writing styles.
His foreshadowing is awesome, even if I can tell sometimes that it's foreshadowing. The detail he puts into characters, settings, equipment, organisations, everything is so detailed. And I would not want to research how Invisible Sword works, it sounds complicated. (Actually, they all sound complicated, but give Scorpia some credit!)
So yeah, I think this rant has been long enough, and I think you get my general point that Anthony Horowitz is awesome. I can't wait for Yassen and AH's new Sherlock Holmes novel! 8D
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Rain [Original fiction]
Title: Rain
Fandom: N/A; Original fiction
Inspired by: Listen to the Rain by Evanescence (it's an amazing song)
She sat by the window, half-watching her reflection in the glass. The small droplets outside continued to rain from the sky, splattering noiselessly onto the pavement. The sky was overcast; the clouds dark and threatening. Lightning crackled in the sky. Then, a few seconds later, there was an explosion of thunder.
She watched, entranced, as the rain hit the ground, and rolled into the gutters. Cars traveling past were barely visible through the curtain. The rain grew heavier, the noise grew louder, and lightning flashed more frequently. The storm was getting closer.
The girl left her position next to the window and opened the door to her house. She took one step outside, then another, then slowly stepped into her front yard. Within seconds, she was drenched--the rain pounded on her head and soaked her clothes. Her wet hair clung to her scalp.
The wind blew. The lightning flashed. The thunder roared. The storm raged.
And the girl smiled up into the sky.
Fandom: N/A; Original fiction
Inspired by: Listen to the Rain by Evanescence (it's an amazing song)
She sat by the window, half-watching her reflection in the glass. The small droplets outside continued to rain from the sky, splattering noiselessly onto the pavement. The sky was overcast; the clouds dark and threatening. Lightning crackled in the sky. Then, a few seconds later, there was an explosion of thunder.
She watched, entranced, as the rain hit the ground, and rolled into the gutters. Cars traveling past were barely visible through the curtain. The rain grew heavier, the noise grew louder, and lightning flashed more frequently. The storm was getting closer.
The girl left her position next to the window and opened the door to her house. She took one step outside, then another, then slowly stepped into her front yard. Within seconds, she was drenched--the rain pounded on her head and soaked her clothes. Her wet hair clung to her scalp.
The wind blew. The lightning flashed. The thunder roared. The storm raged.
And the girl smiled up into the sky.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Escape [Original Fiction]
Title: Escape
Fandom: Alternate (original fiction)
Character(s): Vaidryn Benitez Leal
Other: This seemed like an interesting part of Vaidryn's past, so I'm expanding on it...there probably will be more later.
He slammed the door behind him and ran. His footsteps rang loudly on the marble floor, but that was the last thing on Vaidryn's mind. He flung himself up the stairs, biting his lip hard and concentrating, so that those tears in his eyes would not fall. They could not fall. Not now, not ever.
He reached the fourth floor, panting, but didn't stop. He rushed past the doors, past the people wondering how he had just materialised from thin air. He reached the room.
Vaidryn didn't remember deciding to leave, so his things were still there, scattered. But the choice seems to have been decided for him.
He grabbed his savings for the last 3 years, a jacket, and a box full of his most treasured possessions, then turned heel and left the room.
Everything else--his clothes, his toys, his precious items of worth--was left there, never to be touched by him again.
Out the door, through the corridors, down the stairs and outside. The sun was partially obscured by cloud, and it was a humid day, but he didn't dare take his jacket off. Night would plunge temperatures down to freezing.
He set of running, hugging his box of possessions, and not looking back even as the first yells went up in the Headquarters. 'Vaidryn has escaped', they would say. 'He has ran away'. But that wasn't true.
Vaidryn Benitez was free. Finally.
Two kilometers from Headquarters, he stopped and looked around. He was in the middle of the market, and there was a stall buying gold. Ah, problem solved. Striding up confidently to the stall-owner, Vaidryn opened the box and tipped the contents out. There were music players, game consoles, antique rings, books and CDs spilled out onto the table.
"How much," asked Vaidryn, "for all of it?"
His eyes caught something--a glint of gold. It was a bracelet; his mother's, one of the last things she gave to him before she left. He quickly snatched it up. "Except that."
The owner looked greedily at the items. "50 dollars," he said.
"No. That DS is worth $100 at least. That mp3, $30. I want $200 for all of it."
The man hesitated--it was a good deal but he could usually get better. But the boy was desperate. Why not do one act of kindness? "Fine. Here's four 50s."
Vaidryn nodded. "Thank you."
Fandom: Alternate (original fiction)
Character(s): Vaidryn Benitez Leal
Other: This seemed like an interesting part of Vaidryn's past, so I'm expanding on it...there probably will be more later.
He slammed the door behind him and ran. His footsteps rang loudly on the marble floor, but that was the last thing on Vaidryn's mind. He flung himself up the stairs, biting his lip hard and concentrating, so that those tears in his eyes would not fall. They could not fall. Not now, not ever.
He reached the fourth floor, panting, but didn't stop. He rushed past the doors, past the people wondering how he had just materialised from thin air. He reached the room.
Vaidryn didn't remember deciding to leave, so his things were still there, scattered. But the choice seems to have been decided for him.
He grabbed his savings for the last 3 years, a jacket, and a box full of his most treasured possessions, then turned heel and left the room.
Everything else--his clothes, his toys, his precious items of worth--was left there, never to be touched by him again.
Out the door, through the corridors, down the stairs and outside. The sun was partially obscured by cloud, and it was a humid day, but he didn't dare take his jacket off. Night would plunge temperatures down to freezing.
He set of running, hugging his box of possessions, and not looking back even as the first yells went up in the Headquarters. 'Vaidryn has escaped', they would say. 'He has ran away'. But that wasn't true.
Vaidryn Benitez was free. Finally.
Two kilometers from Headquarters, he stopped and looked around. He was in the middle of the market, and there was a stall buying gold. Ah, problem solved. Striding up confidently to the stall-owner, Vaidryn opened the box and tipped the contents out. There were music players, game consoles, antique rings, books and CDs spilled out onto the table.
"How much," asked Vaidryn, "for all of it?"
His eyes caught something--a glint of gold. It was a bracelet; his mother's, one of the last things she gave to him before she left. He quickly snatched it up. "Except that."
The owner looked greedily at the items. "50 dollars," he said.
"No. That DS is worth $100 at least. That mp3, $30. I want $200 for all of it."
The man hesitated--it was a good deal but he could usually get better. But the boy was desperate. Why not do one act of kindness? "Fine. Here's four 50s."
Vaidryn nodded. "Thank you."
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Fading [Silmarillion]
Title: Fading
Fandom: The Silmarillion/The Lord of the Rings
Spoilers: The Silmarillion (a few deaths of the Noldor)
Characters: Maglor. Mentioned in brief in order: Finarfin, Fingolfin, Fingon, Finrod, Galadriel, Celeborn, Celebrian, Elrond
Other: I am not at all pleased with how this turned out, but whatever. I use Quenya names because I like them better, and Maglor probably still thinks in Quenya.
Maglor looked down at his hand, and was surprised to find that he could still see it perfectly. It had not faded at all in a thousand years--ah, but of course it has. It was his own eyesight alone which could still see himself. No one else could spot him in the trees.
Fading really wasn't so bad. It gave him a lot of time to think. He couldn't change the past--he tried not to think about the past at all. Instead, he wondered towards the future. Not for himself.
The last of the Elves had set sailed for Valinor. Arafinwe probably still ruled Tirion, unless Nolofinwe has demanded Kingship. And by now, his cousins would have been let out of Mandos. Findekano, always Nelyo's best friend, would be reunited with his son. Findarato would walk with his father. Artanis and Teleporno would have found Celebrian. And Elrond...
Maglor shook his head. He tried not to think much about Elrond either.
He took a few steps and knelt down beside the Anduin, the mighty river which once bordered Lorien. The men have begun building their domain. Lorien is silent, Imladris is silent, but Minas Tirith stands, taller and prouder than ever.
There is no place for Canafinwe Macalaure. But then again, there never was.
Fandom: The Silmarillion/The Lord of the Rings
Spoilers: The Silmarillion (a few deaths of the Noldor)
Characters: Maglor. Mentioned in brief in order: Finarfin, Fingolfin, Fingon, Finrod, Galadriel, Celeborn, Celebrian, Elrond
Other: I am not at all pleased with how this turned out, but whatever. I use Quenya names because I like them better, and Maglor probably still thinks in Quenya.
Maglor looked down at his hand, and was surprised to find that he could still see it perfectly. It had not faded at all in a thousand years--ah, but of course it has. It was his own eyesight alone which could still see himself. No one else could spot him in the trees.
Fading really wasn't so bad. It gave him a lot of time to think. He couldn't change the past--he tried not to think about the past at all. Instead, he wondered towards the future. Not for himself.
The last of the Elves had set sailed for Valinor. Arafinwe probably still ruled Tirion, unless Nolofinwe has demanded Kingship. And by now, his cousins would have been let out of Mandos. Findekano, always Nelyo's best friend, would be reunited with his son. Findarato would walk with his father. Artanis and Teleporno would have found Celebrian. And Elrond...
Maglor shook his head. He tried not to think much about Elrond either.
He took a few steps and knelt down beside the Anduin, the mighty river which once bordered Lorien. The men have begun building their domain. Lorien is silent, Imladris is silent, but Minas Tirith stands, taller and prouder than ever.
There is no place for Canafinwe Macalaure. But then again, there never was.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Guest speaker [Original fiction]
Title: Guest Speaker
Fandom: N/A (original fiction)
Character(s): Vico Veneto, you.
Warnings: Half-crack
Vico beamed at you, and the countless other people who are behind you (even if there aren't any).
"Hi," he said dramatically. He was sitting on a couch, on the stage with a giant 'VICO' banner behind him. The spotlights were trained on the teen, who had brown hair with streaks of violet in it. He was wearing baggy pants and a hoodie which wrote 'Vy-oh, not Vee-oh', an inside joke which may or may not be explained later.
"Anyway," said Vico, adjusting the microphone near his mouth, "I am here to introduce myself. As you can see--" he gestured towards the banner behind him "--my name is Vico. I came from my Author's imagination in some very strange daydreams, I'd prefer you not ask.
"The first thing you need to know about me is that I like cake. Also, my original name was Vio, which was short for Violet, of all things! However, the author wanted it changed to Italian and so chose Vico, which is not pronounced Vye-ko and more like Vee-ko, which is horrible because Vio is pronounced Vi-oh and I know you're all very interested in my name."
"Boooooo!" said the audience (including you).
Vico pouted. "Well the thing is!" he shouted over the boo-ing, "Author couldn't think of anything to write today. She ran out of muse really quickly. So I'm here. I'm like the guest, I'm so awesome."
Meanwhile, backstage, the Author checked the traffic of her blog. It went from normal to zero within a matter of seconds. Vico was so getting fired.
Fandom: N/A (original fiction)
Character(s): Vico Veneto, you.
Warnings: Half-crack
Vico beamed at you, and the countless other people who are behind you (even if there aren't any).
"Hi," he said dramatically. He was sitting on a couch, on the stage with a giant 'VICO' banner behind him. The spotlights were trained on the teen, who had brown hair with streaks of violet in it. He was wearing baggy pants and a hoodie which wrote 'Vy-oh, not Vee-oh', an inside joke which may or may not be explained later.
"Anyway," said Vico, adjusting the microphone near his mouth, "I am here to introduce myself. As you can see--" he gestured towards the banner behind him "--my name is Vico. I came from my Author's imagination in some very strange daydreams, I'd prefer you not ask.
"The first thing you need to know about me is that I like cake. Also, my original name was Vio, which was short for Violet, of all things! However, the author wanted it changed to Italian and so chose Vico, which is not pronounced Vye-ko and more like Vee-ko, which is horrible because Vio is pronounced Vi-oh and I know you're all very interested in my name."
"Boooooo!" said the audience (including you).
Vico pouted. "Well the thing is!" he shouted over the boo-ing, "Author couldn't think of anything to write today. She ran out of muse really quickly. So I'm here. I'm like the guest, I'm so awesome."
Meanwhile, backstage, the Author checked the traffic of her blog. It went from normal to zero within a matter of seconds. Vico was so getting fired.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Too much caps [Original Fiction]
Title: Too much caps (courtesy of Damian Farrow)
Fandom: Alternate (Original fiction)
Character(s): Damian Farrow, Author (me)
Warning: Crack!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything SMH related. This contest is real, feel free to enter.
"Chaiiiiinnnn!" screamed a 15-year-old girl hysterically as she ran around in circles. "Chaaaaiiinnn!"
Her Main Character, known as Damian Farrow, was sitting in the corner trying not to crack up or go insane. He was also trying to ignore her. He was failing. "What chain?" he finally asked.
His authoress ignored him. "CHAAAAAAIIIINNNNN--"
"What chain?" he asked again, in a considerably worsened mood.
The girl, who will now be known as Author, stopped screaming temporarily and turned around. "I need a chain!"
Needless to say, at this time Damian was beginning to get quite annoyed. Not only was his creator completely and utterly insane, but she had to go around screaming her head off in his ear. Just wonderful. "Why do you need a chain?"
"Because I need a chaaaiiiiinnnnnnnn!" she cried hysterically.
"SHUT UP!" Damian shouted over her. "Why do you need the damn chain?"
Author whimpered and said something about a top-secret competition. Damian rolled his eyes. "What sort of competition is this?"
"I'M NOT TELLING!" shouted Author dramatically. "If I say anything, more people will join and I'll have more competition!"
Damian headbashed. "Does it involve killing someone with a chain?"
"If you want it to involve that, yes," said Author helpfully.
"Does it have to involve a chain?" asked Damian. "I mean, can it be killing someone with a gun?"
"NO!" shouted Author. "IT MUST BE A CHAIN! CHAIN, I AM YOUR FATHER!"
Damian cracked up, but quickly recomposed himself. "It must be a writing contest," he thought.
"HOW'D YOU KNOW?"
"I guessed."
"Oh." There was a ridiculously quiet moment. Then: "I NEED A CHAIN!"
"THERE'S TOO MUCH CAPS!" yelled Damian, hypocritically. "You have to write about a chain?"
"Yes!"
"Is this that Sydney Morning Herald thing?"
Author blinked. "Yes, how'd you--I MEAN NO! OF COURSE NOT! YOU'RE NOT TAKING MY PRIZE AWAY FROM ME!"
"Migraine!" snapped Damian. "Shut up!"
"Sorry," said Author, in a considerably quieter tone. "Can you think of something for chain?"
"Why don't you kill someone with it?" Damian suggested.
"THAT'S STUPID--Sorry, I mean: that's stupid," she said in a hushed whisper.
Damian rolled his eyes. His head was already hurting. This wasn't helping matters. "How about," he said reasonably, "we ignore this post and come back to it when your muse is here?"
"Good idea," said Author, "but what do we call this story?"
Damian Farrow grinned a rare, evil grin. "We'll call it...THERE'S TOO MUCH CAPS!"
"Let's cut the 'there's'," Author grumbled.
Fandom: Alternate (Original fiction)
Character(s): Damian Farrow, Author (me)
Warning: Crack!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything SMH related. This contest is real, feel free to enter.
"Chaiiiiinnnn!" screamed a 15-year-old girl hysterically as she ran around in circles. "Chaaaaiiinnn!"
Her Main Character, known as Damian Farrow, was sitting in the corner trying not to crack up or go insane. He was also trying to ignore her. He was failing. "What chain?" he finally asked.
His authoress ignored him. "CHAAAAAAIIIINNNNN--"
"What chain?" he asked again, in a considerably worsened mood.
The girl, who will now be known as Author, stopped screaming temporarily and turned around. "I need a chain!"
Needless to say, at this time Damian was beginning to get quite annoyed. Not only was his creator completely and utterly insane, but she had to go around screaming her head off in his ear. Just wonderful. "Why do you need a chain?"
"Because I need a chaaaiiiiinnnnnnnn!" she cried hysterically.
"SHUT UP!" Damian shouted over her. "Why do you need the damn chain?"
Author whimpered and said something about a top-secret competition. Damian rolled his eyes. "What sort of competition is this?"
"I'M NOT TELLING!" shouted Author dramatically. "If I say anything, more people will join and I'll have more competition!"
Damian headbashed. "Does it involve killing someone with a chain?"
"If you want it to involve that, yes," said Author helpfully.
"Does it have to involve a chain?" asked Damian. "I mean, can it be killing someone with a gun?"
"NO!" shouted Author. "IT MUST BE A CHAIN! CHAIN, I AM YOUR FATHER!"
Damian cracked up, but quickly recomposed himself. "It must be a writing contest," he thought.
"HOW'D YOU KNOW?"
"I guessed."
"Oh." There was a ridiculously quiet moment. Then: "I NEED A CHAIN!"
"THERE'S TOO MUCH CAPS!" yelled Damian, hypocritically. "You have to write about a chain?"
"Yes!"
"Is this that Sydney Morning Herald thing?"
Author blinked. "Yes, how'd you--I MEAN NO! OF COURSE NOT! YOU'RE NOT TAKING MY PRIZE AWAY FROM ME!"
"Migraine!" snapped Damian. "Shut up!"
"Sorry," said Author, in a considerably quieter tone. "Can you think of something for chain?"
"Why don't you kill someone with it?" Damian suggested.
"THAT'S STUPID--Sorry, I mean: that's stupid," she said in a hushed whisper.
Damian rolled his eyes. His head was already hurting. This wasn't helping matters. "How about," he said reasonably, "we ignore this post and come back to it when your muse is here?"
"Good idea," said Author, "but what do we call this story?"
Damian Farrow grinned a rare, evil grin. "We'll call it...THERE'S TOO MUCH CAPS!"
"Let's cut the 'there's'," Author grumbled.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
To be Understood [Original fiction]
Title: To be Understood
Fandom: Alternate* (Original fiction)
* Technically not a fandom at all. It's my novel. But one day, oh yes...8D
Character(s): Echo Nightingale (mentions Vaidryn Benitez)
N.B.: This takes place in a half-fantasy setting. Echo is turning 11, Vaidryn is 23 turning 24. In the to-be book, Echo betrays the 'good' side to join the 'evil' side, which Vaidryn commands.
They told her she was a genius; they told her she was perfect. They told her that in the next few years, she would rise to become one of the most successful commanders in their battle against Vaidryn Benitez. People who passed her in the corridors stopped just long enough to tell her how amazing she was, just long enough to ask her to demonstrate an illusion or two.
There was really just one problem.
She wanted fame, and not within the next few years. She wanted it now.
Not to mention there was something strangely alluring about joining the side of darkness. No cookies, nothing of that sort. She was just sick of being so...used. Every day, it felt like she was nothing but a tool for the Seniym to win. It felt like she wasn't really needed if she couldn't fight, or if she couldn't gather information, and that everyone would just forget about her if she fell sick, or died, because nobody really cared.
Those people in the corridors didn't like her. They were only awed by her, and though that was fine, she wanted to be loved. Loved by someone who truly knew her, not just some strangers who happened to pass her by.
And then one day, the letter came. It wasn't signed, and it mentioned nothing of importance, but she knew its purpose immediately. It was from someone who wanted her abilities and personality and actually appreciated who she was as a person. It was from someone who wanted to know her personally and to give her everything she had now, and much, much more.
It was from Vaidryn Benitez, but she wasn't about to tell anyone.
The letters kept coming, and suddenly, there was an outright question. Will she give her life up here, to join and gain so much more on the other side?
Echo Nightingale smiled, and began packing her bags.
Fandom: Alternate* (Original fiction)
* Technically not a fandom at all. It's my novel. But one day, oh yes...8D
Character(s): Echo Nightingale (mentions Vaidryn Benitez)
N.B.: This takes place in a half-fantasy setting. Echo is turning 11, Vaidryn is 23 turning 24. In the to-be book, Echo betrays the 'good' side to join the 'evil' side, which Vaidryn commands.
They told her she was a genius; they told her she was perfect. They told her that in the next few years, she would rise to become one of the most successful commanders in their battle against Vaidryn Benitez. People who passed her in the corridors stopped just long enough to tell her how amazing she was, just long enough to ask her to demonstrate an illusion or two.
There was really just one problem.
She wanted fame, and not within the next few years. She wanted it now.
Not to mention there was something strangely alluring about joining the side of darkness. No cookies, nothing of that sort. She was just sick of being so...used. Every day, it felt like she was nothing but a tool for the Seniym to win. It felt like she wasn't really needed if she couldn't fight, or if she couldn't gather information, and that everyone would just forget about her if she fell sick, or died, because nobody really cared.
Those people in the corridors didn't like her. They were only awed by her, and though that was fine, she wanted to be loved. Loved by someone who truly knew her, not just some strangers who happened to pass her by.
And then one day, the letter came. It wasn't signed, and it mentioned nothing of importance, but she knew its purpose immediately. It was from someone who wanted her abilities and personality and actually appreciated who she was as a person. It was from someone who wanted to know her personally and to give her everything she had now, and much, much more.
It was from Vaidryn Benitez, but she wasn't about to tell anyone.
The letters kept coming, and suddenly, there was an outright question. Will she give her life up here, to join and gain so much more on the other side?
Echo Nightingale smiled, and began packing her bags.
Only Human [Alex Rider]
Fandom: Alex Rider
Spoilers: Scorpia Rising (spoiler for character name only)
---
Title: Only Human
Character(s): Julius Grief, Hugo Grief
Disclaimer: Alex Rider does not belong to me and I do not make any money out of this.
He stares at himself in the mirror for a whole minute. They told him that it would take a while to get used to it, but he didn't think he ever will.
That shape of those eyes. The sharpness of the nose. His entire face shape has been changed by a simple few hours of operation and months of recuperation under bandages. He isn't himself anymore; he never will be.
He has to act like someone else now. He has to look and act and think like someone he has never met, someone he has never knew, but someone he has watched for weeks. He has to imitate their every movement, imitate their speech patterns and little quirks and by the end of it all, Julius Grief knows that he could never do it.
He is too human. He is too himself.
But of course his father doesn't accept failure. His father don't accept anything less than perfection. So at 7 o'clock that evening, Julius walks out of his room, walks the way he has been practicing for the last days weeks, still with the bandages on his face from plastic surgery. He goes to meet his father in the dining room.
"How are you finding yourself adjusting?" asks Hugo Grief.
"Fine," says Julius, though he is lying. "I practiced walking the way he does it. I used the same shampoo and wore the same brand of clothes and ate the same thing he liked."
"There is nothing wrong, then?" There is a slight, menacing tone in his voice, as if the slightest thing wrong could completely derail their plans. But that is true, and Julius knows it.
Which is why he replies: "No, everything is fine."
"Are you sure? You seem distracted. Don't lie to me, Julius."
"I'm not lying," says Julius, but he isn't telling the truth either. "I'm not hungry, I'm going back to my room."
But what Hugo doesn't know is that, in the middle of the night, a boy who's face is wrapped in bandages sneaks out from his room and runs to the kitchens, and orders a feast fit for a king.
Months later, when Julius Grief re-examines himself in the mirror, with those brown eyes, fair hair, and hideous burn marks, he thinks back to those moment. And somehow, deep inside, he knows that the plan would never have worked.
After all, he is only human.
He cannot live a lie.
Spoilers: Scorpia Rising (spoiler for character name only)
---
Title: Only Human
Character(s): Julius Grief, Hugo Grief
Disclaimer: Alex Rider does not belong to me and I do not make any money out of this.
He stares at himself in the mirror for a whole minute. They told him that it would take a while to get used to it, but he didn't think he ever will.
That shape of those eyes. The sharpness of the nose. His entire face shape has been changed by a simple few hours of operation and months of recuperation under bandages. He isn't himself anymore; he never will be.
He has to act like someone else now. He has to look and act and think like someone he has never met, someone he has never knew, but someone he has watched for weeks. He has to imitate their every movement, imitate their speech patterns and little quirks and by the end of it all, Julius Grief knows that he could never do it.
He is too human. He is too himself.
But of course his father doesn't accept failure. His father don't accept anything less than perfection. So at 7 o'clock that evening, Julius walks out of his room, walks the way he has been practicing for the last days weeks, still with the bandages on his face from plastic surgery. He goes to meet his father in the dining room.
"How are you finding yourself adjusting?" asks Hugo Grief.
"Fine," says Julius, though he is lying. "I practiced walking the way he does it. I used the same shampoo and wore the same brand of clothes and ate the same thing he liked."
"There is nothing wrong, then?" There is a slight, menacing tone in his voice, as if the slightest thing wrong could completely derail their plans. But that is true, and Julius knows it.
Which is why he replies: "No, everything is fine."
"Are you sure? You seem distracted. Don't lie to me, Julius."
"I'm not lying," says Julius, but he isn't telling the truth either. "I'm not hungry, I'm going back to my room."
But what Hugo doesn't know is that, in the middle of the night, a boy who's face is wrapped in bandages sneaks out from his room and runs to the kitchens, and orders a feast fit for a king.
Months later, when Julius Grief re-examines himself in the mirror, with those brown eyes, fair hair, and hideous burn marks, he thinks back to those moment. And somehow, deep inside, he knows that the plan would never have worked.
After all, he is only human.
He cannot live a lie.
Introduction
Hello people~
So, as you probably won't know, I've decided to convert this blog into a written exercise for myself. So basically my goal is to write a short piece of fiction (preferably) per day. This may only be about 200 words or so and is supposed to be a writing exercise. Please note that I might not have time to do this every day and some entries may be a little dodgy, but I will try my best!
Also on that note, please understand that these stories are written 'in the moment' and are not edited at all, so do expect mistakes here and three. Feel free to point them out and provide feedback, I value everyone's thoughts ^^
Introduction time! You can call me CC. I'm 14, female, and live in Australia. I have a Fanfiction account here and a fictionpress account here, both under the name of Crimson Cupcake. (Please note my Fanfiction account has many more stories.)
As I often write fanfiction, it is inevitable that some of my stories here will be fanfiction-related. My fandoms include:
- Bleach
- Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
- Death Note
- Harry Potter
- Alex Rider
- Lord of the Rings and the Silmarillion [5.7.11 New current hype]
- Keys to the Kingdom
So now that I've decided for myself the basic rules, let's begin and see how long I can keep this for ^-^
So, as you probably won't know, I've decided to convert this blog into a written exercise for myself. So basically my goal is to write a short piece of fiction (preferably) per day. This may only be about 200 words or so and is supposed to be a writing exercise. Please note that I might not have time to do this every day and some entries may be a little dodgy, but I will try my best!
Also on that note, please understand that these stories are written 'in the moment' and are not edited at all, so do expect mistakes here and three. Feel free to point them out and provide feedback, I value everyone's thoughts ^^
Introduction time! You can call me CC. I'm 14, female, and live in Australia. I have a Fanfiction account here and a fictionpress account here, both under the name of Crimson Cupcake. (Please note my Fanfiction account has many more stories.)
As I often write fanfiction, it is inevitable that some of my stories here will be fanfiction-related. My fandoms include:
- Bleach
- Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
- Death Note
- Harry Potter
- Alex Rider
- Lord of the Rings and the Silmarillion [5.7.11 New current hype]
- Keys to the Kingdom
So now that I've decided for myself the basic rules, let's begin and see how long I can keep this for ^-^
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