Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Creative Writing ~ The Gypsy Game

I (Trinity) will admit, Creative Writing posts are really easy. They're already all written out and ready to go. It's like InstaPost: Just add an introduction.
Now, I will say a little more about how I do creative writing assignments. Technically, you're supposed to aim for fifteen minutes of writing but... I dislike leaving the story wide open or halfway through when I planned to reveal something about a particular character or throw a twist in, so I go over just to try and wrap things up a little bit. Or sometimes it just goes on and on. Anyway, here it is:

The Gypsy Game




On one side of the table sat a very large man. He sat in a very large and sturdy chair, but even then, his sides seemed ready to bust through the arm-rests. He was wearing many rings on each hand and was dressed most opulently Anyone could see that he was bald as his wig was quite disheveled and crooked, a consequence of his tugging at it in deep thought. Even though it was a mild fall afternoon, his handkerchief was soaked from mopping his brow.

Across from him, the young woman watched him with amusement. She perched atop a stool, swinging her bare feet carelessly, her anklets jingling. She was dressed oddly, for though her clothing was ragged and patched in places, the cloth was brilliant colors of the rainbow. Around her slim wrists, she carried a large collection of bangles, and in her ears were two large gold hoops. Her wild brown hair seemed to float all around, restrained only by a large handkerchief tied over it.

"Have you made your move, my lord?" She asked the man, her dark eyes sparkling in amusement.

He coughed nervously, then said, "Yes. Yes, I have."

"Most excellent." The woman reached forward and moved one of the colorful balls on the board between them. Then she deftly plucked three other of the balls off and dropped them in a pouch at her waist.
The man shifted, trying to find a comfortable position in the chair, and frowned at the board, trying to figure out how she had done it. Abruptly, he looked up and glared at her with beady eyes. "You aren't using magic, are you gypsy?"

The gypsy smiled winningly. "Of course not, my lord. That would be ruin the point of the game. Skill against skill alone."

The nobleman scowled, barely comprehending her subtle jab at his skill. It had been a mistake, he decided, to challenge the gypsy woman to her own game. Naturally, she had refused until he made it a wager. And a very substantial one at that. Two thousand crowns out of his treasury went to her if she won, and if he won, she would enter his service as a maid for the next year with no pay.

The nobleman couldn't afford to lose two thousand crowns, and the gypsy abhorred the idea of being kept in one place for a whole year, especially while serving such a pompous nobleman.

Leaning forward as best he could, the nobleman picked up a ball between his meaty fingers and moved it diagonally on the board, then picked up one of her balls. The gypsy smiled. Humming a strange tune, she moved one of her balls four, five, six times. Then she scooped up the rest of the nobleman's balls.

"I believe that finishes the game." She said lightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

The nobleman nodded grudgingly. "Very well. Two hundred crowns, was it?"
"Two thousand, actually." She corrected him, putting the game away. "But there's no need for you to bother with it."

"I beg your pardon?" He rumbled.
"I have no need of your money." The gypsy replied. "I'd gladly exchange the two thousand crowns for room and board whenever I come this way again."
"Eh? Oh, yes. Yes, of course!" The nobleman agreed eagerly, relieved. "Consider it done."
As he left, the gypsy smiled to herself, quite pleased with her work for the day.


The End. These are kind of short sometimes. I particularly enjoyed writing this one for some reason, and I think I'd enjoy writing something with the gypsy girl character again. Come to think of it, it kind of reminds me of the book Gypsy Rizka, which was a fun read. Not real high on the intricate plot scale, but a good book to read in an afternoon to amuse yourself. We might ought to have a page for book recommendations. 
Oh, and leave a comment if you caught the Princess Bride reference! 

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!
-Trinity

Monday, January 28, 2013

Character Group Rules - Dragons

This is not a scheduled post today. While Trinity has long had her posts for this week already written, I am marginally more... lazy. And I didn't get a post scheduled and written and ready, so I'm kind of rushing to get this up.
It's Hannah.
Anyway, today is not going to be a creative writing post, although that would be much easier.
So I guess I'll do a Character Rules Post.
Dragons Of Eyra.
Yessssss.

While you're reading, go ahead and listen to this lovely song, if you can read and listen to music at the same time (which I find hard, personally).






Dragons


Now, I have very definitive rules on what dragons are like, what dragons do and how they do it. Where to start, where to start...

Dragons are intelligent animals, more so than dolphins or poodles, in that they can talk, for instance. They are like people, in a way, different than one another in personality, and each unique in appearance (like a fingerprint, no one dragon is exactly alike).
Of course, like people, some dragons may be more unpleasant, more excitable, or more charming than others. There are good dragons and bad dragons and young dragons and old dragons. Some very young or old. 
The first dragon that I introduced was a four-month-old female Sea Dragon named Aquamarine.




Now. There are three different classifications of dragons (so far). Sea, Fire, and Flying, aka Flight or Air. They are sorted according to physical attributes.




Flight Dragons can always fly, naturally. They are often less bulky and more streamlined, and always have wings. (I think it necessary to mention at this point that my books only concern the Western Dragon, not the Eastern.) Flying Dragons can also usually breathe fire, but are most skilled at flying.
Commonly seen as graceful and calm, though sometimes assumed to be more light-headed than other dragons.





Sea Dragons work best in water. They can swim like a fish, and are often mistaken for sea serpents. The scales of a Sea Dragon are often a shade of blue or green.
Some Sea Dragons can fly, and a handful can breathe fire. Of the fliers, some have camouflaged wings (Aquamarine, for example) and their wings often serve as fins. As for the fire breathers, their fire is often differently colored, and weaker than the flame of a fire dragon. 






Fire Dragons are arguably the most fearsome of their kind. They always have a powerful flame, and enjoy roosting in volcanoes or deep in the crevices or the earth. These dragons are often colored black or red, and can be bulkier than the other two breeds. A Fire Dragon can usually fly, and sometimes takes that as a license to dive-bomb towns and villages. The Council of Dragons is working to prevent this.  
Fire Dragons can often be seen as hot-headed and bad-tempered, though that is not the case with every dragon.






Secondly, Aquamarine is a Maiden's Dragon.

Maiden's Dragon -

A dragon raised or trained to be a personal guard of a female human or elf, and in rare cases, a dwarf. To dictate which female is chosen as a Maiden, the typical course of action is to strategically place a object of interest, most commonly a ring or other piece of jewelry, in a place that a person will find it and pick it up. In the event that a male finds the object, the dragon is called a Knight's Dragon. The dragon will typically inhabit the object and wait until they are discovered. (The inhabiting thing is still being worked out). Once the object is discovered, the Maiden or Knight must keep it with them at all times (which is why it helps if the object is a piece of jewelry.) This establishes a link between the dragon and their keeper, and enables the keeper to call for help when necessary.

The dragon, upon being found, becomes bound to their keeper, to protect with life and limb, until the keeper dies or officially releases them. In the case of a 'release', the dragon may either move on to another keeper, or go on to do what they wish.

Like a genie or a butler that can fry bad guys.

Now, all dragons have abilities, skills, that are not widely known. Each dragon has the potential, but it has to be trained and honed to be used efficiently

Transportation - The dragon's ability to teleport themselves or something else (size depends on concentration and training) to another dimension, to the Void, or to another location in the same dimension. http://quillinherquiver.blogspot.com/2012/12/location-post-seventh-dimension-aka.html

Size Change - There is a typical, natural size to a dragon, but a dragon, with skill, can shrink or grow to suit their accommodations. This ability can be trained into a dragon by their elders, or, on some occasions, come across on accident. The size to which the dragon can shrink or grow depends on training, concentration, and age.

Invisibility - The art of, in technical terms, teleporting one's appearance to another dimension or location. The strength, potency and presence of the dragon remains, but they cannot be seen. A very well-trained dragon can sometimes also turn their keeper invisible, which is much more difficult.

Okey-dokey-lokey. I think that's all for now. I'll probably have to put up a second post in the future to further elaborate or to cover anything I have forgotten.
If you have a question, go ahead and ask in the comments. 

Oh, one more thing. There is no magic concerning the dragons. Each of their abilities is only part of their natural tendencies. It's not strange for a human to walk on two legs. Not every animal can do that, but it's typical for people, even if it's something they have to learn.

So, that's the end of this really late post (it was supposed to be on by 7 this morning). Ciao!




Friday, January 25, 2013

Character Post - Haemon, Son of Carl

"His name was Haemon, Son of Carl, and he was the Chief of Kazimir Tribe."

Okay, I am going to finish this post. It's only been in draft form for a few months. I tried to just write about Haemon just freestyle, and it didn't work out so well. (Thus the reason it's been stuck in development hell.) '
So, I will be using a Beautiful People Questionnaire (The Evil Edition) as developed by Sky and Georgie Penn.

But first, a little background, because I did put some effort into this and I don't want it to go to waste.

Haemon was based off of the above picture, but with a few changes. My original description of him is a little stilted (in my own opinion) and I risked doing the grocery list type of description, but here it is:

"He was tall, and heavily muscled. His face was rough and weathered, but surprisingly pale. However, it was his attire that attracted your attention first. His jerkin, leggings and boots were darkest black, but his belt and scabbard, which was not empty, were purest white. Over all these he wore a long, finely tailored coat, red as blood on the outside and as white as his belt on the inside. Finally, those who dared, or were allowed to approach him were drawn to the fact that his hair was an unnatural white and his stunningly green eyes were always completely bloodshot. 
All in all, he cut a commanding, if not terrifying figure."

I can't add much more to that, as it's summed up pretty well there, but that might not be a good thing. I'm thinking in a future revision it'll be spread out a little more.

Haemon is my antagonist. He's the villain. He has two types of tempers. One is flash-in-the-pan, and that's the one he keeps most visible. He enjoys having people treading lightly around him, because he enjoys being feared.
The other is his deep, simmering temper. This one is much less obvious, and only identifiable by the fact that his little explosions pale in comparison to his volcanic explosions, often directed at someone who does not fear him, or at the very least, doesn't profess to fear him.
Those types of explosions are the ones that he's lain awake at night, brooding over how he can inflict the most humiliation and pain.

Okay. Moving onto the questions.

1. What is his motive?
Greed. Gain. He wants to have a life of ease like his grandparents had before the quake, and he believes the key to getting it is in the Old Cities.

2. What is he prepared to do to get what they want?
If I had to choose one word to describe Haemon it would probably be ruthless. Followed closely by calloused. He honestly doesn't care. 
He's a lot like a child. He wants what he wants and he's going to get what he wants any way possible.

3. Is he evil to the core, or simply misunderstood?
Originally, he was just curious, but curiosity became an obsession and now he's pretty much evil to the core.

4. What was his past like? What about his childhood? Was there one defining moment that made him embrace his evil ways?
In the beginning he had a fairly normal childhood. His father was the chief of his tribe, and he had a loving mother and a cute little sister. Now, I'm not exactly sure when in the timeline, but when he was a bit older, perhaps nineteen or twenty, his tribe was attacked and basically wiped out. His parents were killed and soon after he and his sister parted ways (not on great terms). 
He went on to investigate the Old Cities and then kind of took over and expanded another tribe with the ultimate goal being to repopulate the cities, but... he kind of started plundering other tribes along the way (since it worked so well the first time). And now he kind of has a life of ease because he's constantly being served, but of course, he's not satisfied... Anyhow, I think he is particularly vicious about attacking other tribes because he somehow equates it with getting revenge for the attack on his tribe.

5. Now that he's evil, have they turned their back on everyone, or is there still someone in their life that he cares for? (Brother? Daughter? Love interest? Mother? Someone who is just as evil as they are?)
Hmmm... He runs into his sister every once in a while and they fight like Titans, but if he were every to go easy on anyone, it would probably be her. He already kind of goes easy on her by not shooting her when she shows up. But that's about as far as it goes.

6. Does he like hugs?
Only if it's for the purpose of slipping a knife between your ribs. Otherwise, he's not real touchy.

7. Is he plagued by something? (Nightmares, terrible thoughts?)
He would say he's plagued by the stupidity of his tribe. If he's plagued by anything else, I haven't discovered/decided what it is yet.

8. Who is he more similar to: Gollum or Maleficent?
Maleficent, definitely. Shocking similarities. Very close in character.

9. If your villain could have his choice of transportation what would it be?In his situation, a jet black stallion. He wouldn't want a litter because he'd have to depend on his carriers. In this age and era, he'd likely have a black limo or sedan with two burly bodyguards to accompany him everywhere and a little hyperventilating secretary.

10. If you met your villain in the street, how afraid would you be? Is he evil enough to kill his creator?
Yes, he's evil enough to kill his creator. Without a second thought. Cleaning up loose ends.
How afraid would I be? Um, if we had met before, I'd be a touch terrified, because he may not just kill me. He may want to practice torture methods on me.
If he couldn't recognize me, I duck my head and get out of the way. Try and keep off his radar.
(Hint: If you run into Haemon, either cower and grovel so he lets you live, or start trying to appeal to his better nature so he kills you quickly.)

Welp, that's all the questions. So he's definitely not a nice person. Very much a self-absorbed dictator type. Just keep in mind that he's still development.
All questions (and any criticism for that matter) are very very welcome! (There's nothing quite like discovering someone's commented!)

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!
-Trinity

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Creative Writing - Introducing Pert

Ahhhh... another day, another post. It's Hannah again.

In my experience in a big family, copycats are common. Younger siblings look up to older siblings. They spend so much time together, they begin to pick up characteristics from each other. It's not unusual for a younger child to be interested in what their big sister does as a hobby, or for siblings to want to do the same things. You copy people you spend time around and people you look up to.

That, my dears, is my excuse for stealing Trinity's idea and putting up another Creative Writing. I really shouldn't. I've been thinking that I should do another Character Post or something. But this isn't just a Creative Writing to me, it's likely the longest CW stretch I've ever done, surpassing even my 8-page mini story based on a single picture. And now that I've been reading over it again, I thought I'd bring it up.

Allow me to introduce Pert. The name "Pert" is a nickname that refers to how impertinent she is, even if she'd like to think otherwise. She's a private detective. The other man is Cowar (I haven't given him a first name yet). Cowar is a retired FBI agent turned cop, if I recall correctly. After the death of Pert's parents, he'd taken her under his wing, if only from a distance. He's a Lestrade/Commissioner Gordan type man, the kind who would (and probably already did) bail her out when she gets arrested for whatever shenigans she had most recently been involved in, but he'd also give her an hour-long lecture on why there are, in fact, rules for conduct on the road. He's also the one she depends on to link her to most of her clients.

Understand that when I was writing this, we'd probably just finished watching BBC's Sherlock, for the, I don't know, first, second, third time. So my mind was temporarily obsessed with detectives and mysteries and maniacal villains. When I saw the assigned picture, the story just started flowing. I love when that happens, it's so magical. I probably spent over half the allotted time on this installment alone.

This here is the recently edited copy of the first chapter (be warned, it's a bit long, and I'm no expert on detectives and the assorted rules, regulations and procedures of law enforcement, so this was the best I could do).




Winipertia Jane Apago is my full name. Winipertia. I wonder if I was named after an insane relative, but I’ll never get the chance to ask, I suppose. My parents died - or were murdered - when I was about eleven, and not quite able to appreciate the absurdness of my name. While I understand that some people may adore their names, even brag about them, I personally dislike mine, which is why I prefer everyone to call me Pert instead. Pert means, according to dictionary,

1. bold and lively in a pleasant or amusing way
2. jaunty and stylish in design
3. Small, well-shaped, and pretty

I personally think all these could describe me, except perhaps pretty, which I’m not sure about yet. I like to think of myself as jaunty, bold and stylish. As for the third entry in the dictionary, I’m definitely pretty small. Concerning the other two, however, the best I can say to well-shaped and pretty is that I’m not mutated or ugly. I have an unfortunate amount of frizzy, brown-blond hair that tangles easily, green eyes (which I guess I don’t mind so much), and, as I mentioned before, I’m not exactly tall. But I can also be relatively stealthy and observant. Pretty good things for a private detective to be, which I am.
 
I sat in my office, twiddling my thumbs. I had been there for three hours, gone through all the files on my laptop, deleted everything that government agents could use against me, erased all evidence of anything I had done on the Internet, and was still bored.
In the past week I had solved two murders, three pick pocketing cases, and one identity theft. Now, being suddenly derived of practically anything interesting to do, I felt like my brain was going to explode.

Ring, ring!

I scrambled for the phone. Briefly checking the caller ID (it said something about a CC agency), I answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hello. I wonder if you would please take some time to take a survey– ”

“Goodbye,” I said impatiently and slammed the phone back onto the desk. Boring.

Ring, ring!

I grabbed the phone again, pressed the ‘talk’ button, and yelled, “I don’t a survey! I don’t want to buy
anything! I don’t want credit cards and I don’t have kids! You got that?!”

“Hey, Pert, calm down, I’m not selling credit cards,” said a definitely male voice in a much more civil tone than I had just used.

I exhaled slowly. “Sorry, Cowar, just had a call. Do you have something for me?”

“Yup. Police case. They can’t take it.”

I grinned somewhat evilly. I don’t know why I like it so much when the cops are pathetic. Unless it’s the fact that they hand the case off to me.

“What is it?” I asked, feeling a thrill of eagerness.

“Drugstore robbery.”

I frowned. “Cowar, you know I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, I know, except it was in Yew Town, and it was the hotshot himself,” said Cowar.

I looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “Cowar, I know so many “hotshots”, really, which one are you talking about?”

“Cameron Truetor. You know, Senator.”

“Oh, that hotshot. Why on Earth can’t the police take it?”

“This is politics, not local.”

“Boring,” I said hotly. “State troopers, militia, pick someone else to do your brunt work.”

I could practically hear Cowar’s eye roll through the phone. “Grunt work. And it's not only that. I called because I thought you’d take it, but if you don’t even want to hear what happened…”

No one could see me, so I slouched very low in my chair until my head was about level with the armrests.
“Fine, then, go ahead.”


Cowar took a breath as he dived into the story. “From what I'm getting, Truetor wanted to go out, get a night by himself. He’s always being followed by paparazzi and such, so he can’t go anywhere in peace. He ditched his service guys somehow. Unfortunately, he was recognized and practically mobbed in the street, so he tried to escape into a small drugstore off the square. Equally unfortunately, a stick-up was happening right then.”

“That sounds terrible. And staged.”

“Yeah, I wish. The cops had already been called by the drugstore keeper’s daughter, the service guys were everywhere, trying to find Truetor, but the thugs just panicked. They shot at him, but it went over his head. The cops got there just as the crooks got out the door, but they started shooting everywhere. “The police did next to nothing. Ethics or something. The crooks had guns and the officers wouldn’t shoot unless they warned the men that they were going to fire, and they didn’t get the chance. Gretta got shot in the shoulder and some guy who was on the street got killed. Then the thugs turned down an alley, and when the police followed on foot, they couldn’t find them anywhere. One man swears that they disappeared in front of his eyes. We think an unauthorized helicopter was in the area, but there was only one sighting in the whole crowded street. The service guys are having conniptions, and Truetor’s gone without a trace. ”

“Wait a minute, is Gretta okay?”

“First things first, huh? She’s fine. That’s not the issue, though.”

“Well, what’s the issue, then? You just called to tell me Truetor’s missing? I got better things to do that save his sorry– ”

“Yeah, I know,” Cowar snapped. “But tell me you don’t see something fishy in all of this.”

I don’t like to lie. At least to Cowar. He can always tell. “Fine, it seems weird. But what’s the point?
Again, why can’t you guys handle this?”

There was a long silence. I listened, then checked my phone to make sure it was still working. Cowar’s voice finally came through the speaker.

“I have a small suspicion.”

“As to why the police are inept?” I asked.

“As to the person who arranged this.”

“Not much to arrange.”

“Cornwall.”

“Hmm?”


And that was all I could say. My brain seemed to have had a fuel malfunction and shut down, and I could swear that my heart made a little sputtering sound as it skipped three consecutive beats.

Cornwall.

To be perfectly honest, the name itself literally made goose bumps come out on my arms, and not in a good way. Like Al Capone, or Billy the Kid, if you’d ever met them and come away alive. Alexander Cornwall had a reputation as an insane, brilliant man who was suspected of murder on several dozen cases.

I had had a few encounters with him, and they’d never ended up well.


Finally, I got control of my faculties. “Seriously? Cornwall?” I scoffed to cover up my hesitation. “What you’re talking about sounds nothing like him. It sounds like incompetent thugs who accidentally got lucky.”

“That’s ridiculous, and you know it,” Cowar said in a low voice. “The one day the senator decides to take a day off, he runs into a drugstore stick-up with idiots with guns. Then he’s gone.”

“And you got Cornwall out of this.”

“I got Cornwall out of the fingerprints that one of his established lackeys left.”

“It’s a kidnapping. Cornwall, in my experience, prefers death.”

Cowar cleared his throat. “Well, fingerprints don’t lie. If you don’t want to take it, say so. I’ve got three other privates lined up for a call.”

That was a lie. At least, I hoped it was. I was silent for a long while. I didn’t want to show him I was desperate, even though I was. Finally I sighed and said, “Okay, let me check my files on him.”

That wasn’t enough for Cowar. “If you’re taking it, Pert, I want you to get down here. If you want first-hand evidence you’ve got an hour.”

Blast it, blast it, blast it. Of course I did, I was just hoping he’d give me a larger window of time.

“Alright,” I said. “Fine. I’ll be down there in twenty minutes.”


And that's it for now. I wasn't sure whether to list this among my stories that I'm currently working on. I have four other chapters among my files, but Trinity has mentioned that it's hard to understand the characters sometimes. For instance, the first time she read this, I had completely forgotten to mention that Cowar was male. And, in my last post, she was confused as to the gender of Arsha Beacon. If you have any confusion or would like to point out a mistake in my post, please do, because I want to make sure that I fix it.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Creative Writing ~ Star Wars

(Trinity here!)
I explained about creative writing before, but I'll do it again real briefly.
A creative writing assignment is when you're given a picture and you have to write about it for fifteen minutes (Approximately. If you really get into it, sometimes it can stretch out to a half-hour.) It's something my mom came up with for our school.
I found this one while I was combing through my 30GB external hard drive for all my old files about Aouthentica.
So, without further ado, CW Number One! (It's kind of fan fiction. And short.)



Kael Teilk bit her lip, trying to focus on the task before her. Impatiently  she brushed aside the single long braid that hung down the side of her face, but had an annoying habit of getting in her eyes. All padawans had to wear them, but in it's original conception, it had been placed so that one could tuck it behind their ear. Kael was unfortunately void of such a feature.
Her head-tails twitched as she tried to concentrate. Making a smoothing motion with her hand, she began to use the force to untwist a short trident. These particular tridents had four prongs instead of three, and could only be found in her master's home quadrant.
Master Yoda. Why of all the padawans to tutor, why had he picked a Twi'lek? And a female at that? Besides the fact that a greater portion of all Jedi were males, Master Yoda seemed to spend much of his time concerned with humans.
"Kael." Master Yoda's deep, scratchy voice brought her back to her task. "Finished yet, you are not."
"I'm sorry, Master." Kael closed her eyes, and with a surge of willpower, straightened out the last two prongs of the trident. Opening her eyes, she studied the trident. "Master, how are these used?"
Yoda chuckled. "With great skill are they used. Years of training one must have..."
He paused and shuffled over to the weapon. "...before one can use a Reepir."
Setting aside his walking stick, he leaned over and pick up one of the reepirs. It was only a few tregametrics taller than him. He held it straight out in front of him, parallel to the ground. Then with one smooth motion, he turned, set the prongs in the ground, and swung around the other side of it. Using his momentum, he pulled it out of the ground, bringing it around quickly to stab an invisible enemy. He sped up, performing many other astounding maneuvers  Kael watched in fascination. Then, in the blink of an eye, Yoda was before her, again an aged Jedi Master, setting the reepir back in it's place in the line.
"Master, you are truly powerful with the force!" Kael said in awe.
Yoda didn't answer for a moment, gazing at the reepirs. Then he said quietly, "Use the force, I did not."
Kael felt curiosity bubbling up inside her, but something about Yoda's solemn demeanor silenced her questions. Yoda let out a sigh, then picked up his walking stick. Turning, he faced the reepirs and waved his hand over them. They crumpled and twisted in seemingly impossible ways.
"Begin again." Yoda commanded, resting his hands on his staff.

And that's it. Obviously I didn't do a whole lot of research, since Twi'leks do seem to have a sort of ear thingy, but that's okay. Like NaNoWriMo, the point was just to write, not to make sure all your facts were correct. Actually, in a lot of ways, the creative writing assignments are a lot like mini-NaNoWriMo's. Or NaNoWriMo is like a month long creative writing. However you like to look at it.


Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!
-Trinity



Friday, January 18, 2013

Snippets and Nonsense

It'sa Hannah.

How are all ya'll?

On a normal day it takes about, oh, a hour to write a post, at the least. I don’t know, am I slow? I usually write a bunch of little talkity things while I decide what the subject is going to be. Sometimes the subject I want to write about is pretty clear, sometimes not so much. So now I’m just going jump into a river of pretty nonsensical nonsense. (Nonsensical nonsense makes more sense than nonsensical sense. Or maybe it makes less sense. Fewer senses? I don’t know.)

By the way, thanks for the encouragement about Orphna’s Tale. I suddenly got super excited about it and began writing again. And it’s been spectacular fun! Creativity, I know, comes from restrictions, but there is also a lot of fun in writing without so many boundaries on everything. Like my characters from the Eyra Chronicles. They are (at least to me) a world apart from the Orphna characters. For instance, Armen (an elf who I have not gotten around to telling you all about), he’s serious. Almost all the time. He doesn’t usually make jokes, but when he does they are pretty subtle. Not recommended for idiots.
But then I started working on Xren! Wooooowwww… that is so fun. He is a fun, talkative, playful guy… and I’ve only written, at most, four pages with him! There is a big difference. When looking at Pinterest for picture inspiration, I see a picture of this guy and girl chatting. I think, “Oh, that could be Armen and Lina, they’re good friends… but no, wait, the guy is slouching. Nothing like Armen. He’s very proper.
“But wait! Xren doesn’t care! Yay! I can use this!” And I do a little happy dance in my writing chair.
I know, it’s weird to get happy over things like that. But to me, my characters are just so fabulous! I love the little differences between characters, it just makes it seem more real to me, as opposed to having a bunch of clone-like people all acting the same way.


So anyway, a little section of my more recent try:





The banging on the castle doors was muffled now that they were in the upper rooms, but it still echoed ominously in the distance.

The queen pulled her counsel into a side room, and decided to get right to it, talking quickly.
“I don’t believe they can be made to see sense. It’s gone too far; it’s dangerous now.”
Five pairs of eyes met her gaze. “What are you trying to say?” Arsha asked with a frown.
“I’m not going to let you be killed for my sake,” the queen said in a low voice.
“It would only be an honor, Your Majesty,” Xren, the soldier, said quietly.
“No!” argued Losila tightly. “I would rather have you live and fight than sacrifice yourself. I am leaving, with what is left of my entourage. You all have a choice.”
The counsel members exchanged glances, then regarded their queen with guarded interest.
“There is a back way,” she said softly. “Arsha knows where it is. I would have you all go now, escape into the woods, and stay there until the uprising dies down, or until you are forgotten.”
“You’d have us run,” objected Mylenda Linley.
“Yes, I would,” said Losila. “Take your families and leave.”
“What about you?” asked Kiake anxiously.
“I will be fine. Though I will need a companion on my own journey.”
“I’ll go, Your Highness,” said Arsha automatically.
“No.” The queen set a hand on her shoulder. “You need to be a leader.”
Arsha frowned, looking almost hurt. Undiro stepped forward. “I will go, Your Majesty.”
“You have a family, Undiro, you can’t leave them.”
“If Your Majesty says the word
“I don’t. Stay.”
Mylenda straightened. “Then I will go.”
Losila looked at Mylenda, concern furrowing her brow, but she sighed. “All right. You may.”


Shouts came from the below levels, along with a resounding boom as the palace doors gave way.
Kiake ran to the window and called, “The courtyard is emptying. They’re inside!”
“Go, now,” Queen Losila shouted, and she and Mylenda disappeared through a side door.
The remaining counsel members looked at each other.
“My wife and daughter,” said Undiro.
Arsha snapped to reality. “Go, then, get them. Kiake, go with him.” Undiro was already out the door, in spite of his age, and Kiake nodded acknowledgement and bounded after him.
“Don’t take anything but the absolute necessary!” Arsha called after them, then turned to Xren. “Get my sword.”
“Are you going to run in a dress?” he asked, retrieving the weapon from a nearby drawer.
“I guess so,” she said flatly, slipping something from a shelf into her pocket.
“What was that?” asked Xren.
“Hush,” said Arsha. “Head for the second counsel room, and see if you can’t get Kiake and Undiro on the way.” She took her sword from him and went out the door.


Arsha reached the staircase and stopped as she saw the foot of the flight crowded with torch-bearing men. “Xren, change of plans. Get over here.”
He appeared at her shoulder. “Blast,” he cursed.
“They’re just local people. Should we try to force our way through?”
“Let’s not turn this into a debate,” suggested Xren, turning and running nimbly down the opposite staircase, which was less crowded. As a man approached with a pitchfork, Xren batted him away with the hilt of his sword and glanced up to see if Arsha was coming.
Arsha gritted her teeth, and throwing a glance over her shoulder, hiked up her skirts and followed, sword in hand. A peasant dove at her with a crude scythe of some sort, and she deflected the blade, stepping to the side and bringing the sword down on the man’s back. It slid through his body easily.
She swallowed to resist gagging, and dispatched the next man, making her way towards Xren.
“Come on,” the counsel-man said. He had done a neat job in clearing the staircase, but more locals were moving around toward them.
“Second counsel room,” Arsha reminded. “You go, I’ll hold them off.”
“Not going to happen,” Xren said calmly.
She threw him a glare. “Make sure that Kiake and the Meriweathers get out.”
“That’s not going to happen,” repeated Xren. “Only you know where the exit is.”
Arsha growled and ducked into the corridor. He followed, right on her heels. 


Okay, yeah, that wasn’t a little section, it was kind of a big one. And to clarify. This may not be the same with you guys, but our parents don’t want us to write romance stories. So people in our books might like each other, but we’re not going to get all into that. As a basic rule, it’s probably safer to assume that a guy-girl couple in our books are just friends, unless otherwise indicated.
Please go ahead and tell me if this is corny, I can take it. If there is a problem in… oh, grammar, spelling, plot, believability, feedback is welcome.

Oh, one more thing. What did you think of that cover up there? That's the original. The black background is my 10-year-old work with pastels, and the rest of it is courtesy of Trinity's 12-year-old Photoshop skills. Pretty good, considering. But for this post, I decided to revamp it.



And no, I don't own any of the pictures in this cover. In fact, I have no idea who they belong to. Some kinks will have to be worked out if I ever want to publish the book with this cover.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

A History of Aouthentica

Hannah and I (Trinity) are working to schedule posts now, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, alternating between the two of us, and this is my first scheduled post! :)

Now, I want to let loose on Aouthentica.

The lion is the national animal of Aouthentica,
as the Arions have ruled it for several hundred years,
and "Ari" means "Lion" (e.g. Ariel means "God's Lioness")


I started it back in October of 2007, I believe. I had the exact date at one point, but unfortunately I lost it. So, 2007, which would put me at about 12 years old.

I called it Village of Milliayn, and it was about (shocker!) the village of Milliayn. Here's a brief synopsis from the very beginning of it, which, as any most writers know, is a terrible and lazy way of writing.

"The village of Milliayn is filled with people with a common gift, the gift of technology. 
      They live in a land called Aothentica. They were the pioneers of technology. That is until someone else came to rule. 
      As a young child Villen was expected to be a prodigy in technology, like the other children of Aothentica. From Kindergarten through College, Villen could never remember what the difference was between a hard drive and a floppy drive. 
Villen vowed to rid Aothentica of technology, and what better way to do that then become the Emperor of Aothentica?"

First of all, the resulting plot line was very flawed. Especially as the good guys were equipped with flying motorcycles, and laser guns. Oh, and incineration beams.
Why were they holed up in one little corner of the country if they had superior weaponry? 
No clue. 
Why was Rienna previously a fashion designer? 
Probably because I thought it sounded cool at the time. 
Why didn't Jrew just lead them on an attack and kill the evil king (Villen)?
He did. In 14 pages the storyline began and ended.

I kind of left it for a while, then came back and began adding on. By page 15 I had decided to jump it ahead a year. Kind of a little in-story reboot. The writing quality jumps visibly. 
Jrew was suddenly, randomly, coincidentally discovered to be the nephew of the previous king (Tomeas, whose current incarnation is Avigdor). 
And guess who figured it out? Arron. Who is still Arron now. But he's only mentioned by name twice. I kept going on the story for another 123 pages, but it was difficult to keep the story going as I had to make all sorts of little changes and leaps in logic, and it just wasn't working very well.
The villain (King Villen) would've had to go against the convictions that made him take over in the first place in order to try to defeat the good guys. Swords really don't work very well against incineration guns. So he had these things called hoodies which were

"The best computer experts he [Villen] can find and they wear those odd costumes to scare people off". 

The hoodies, of course, wore hoods. But there's another fallacy in the plot. Where did Villen find all these computer experts if he's had them outlawed?
Oh! And there was the Filt metal.

“Filt metal. It absorbs lasers of all known types, including incinerators.” 

Jrew explains to his enemy in the middle of a fight. *facepalm* Of course, immediately after, there was this little gem:

The hoodie flicked his wrist. Suddenly the scimitar glowed red. “Allow me to demonstrate.” He said, and jumped off the cart. Swinging the scimitar he sliced the shafts completely off.  “We call it a lightning rod. It too is made of filt. Only engrained in it are bare electric wires. It has several different uses, Most of which I intend to use very soon!”

He pointed it at Ashley and pressed a button on the handle. The lightning rod zapped and a large lightning ball shot from the sword toward her. Ashley managed to flip out of the way in time. The hoodie laughed maniacally.


Because, of course, evil people do things maniacally. Even evil people with glowing swords that shoot lightning balls. 

Eventually I realized that the base of the story was flawed pretty badly. A guy hates technology so he takes over a country. It could be interesting, but I gave it a shot and I couldn't pull it off.
So I wiped it out and started over. Three or four times in a row.
See, I have this affliction where I can't write a story (or at least this story) without a complete plot line first and I'm not very good at getting my plot lines completed. I get halfway through, then get so excited with my characters and the story that I start writing, but I run into plot holes, so I try to go back to the plot line, but it's boring now, so I lose interest and leave it for a few months (or years). Then when I come back I swear to myself that I will write out the entire plot line now and the whole process repeats.
My biggest problem right now is that I don't know what the climax will be. I know how I want it to end (or at least I have a vague idea), but I'm not sure how they're going to get to the end. I would estimate that I've got about 80-85% of the plot worked out in my head or on paper. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less.

Anyway. After  several  lots of starts, restarts and false starts, I began the version (on 8/6/10) that I called The Final Book, because I was tired of rewriting everything so often and I declared that this would be the very last incarnation!
The Final Book was/is much much closer to what I have now than the original. In it, Jrew and the reader know from the beginning that he is the nephew of the last king and the only surviving heir to the Aouthentican throne. I think this was also the first book where I started spelling Aouthentica with a "u" instead of my original spelling "Aothentica". (The pronunciation is supposed to be Ow-thent-ika , not Aw-thent-ika).
And I backed off a bit on the mythical technology so there were no more flying motorcycles or incinerations. But they did still have laser rifles and some other pretty advanced stuff that has since been cut.
Also, in this one, Milliayn was still part of Aouthentica, instead of being in the country next door. But it was too difficult to make that work. Why wouldn't the villain king (Now Talman Perdant) just bomb them into oblivion or send a strike force in to rid himself of the bothersome heir? Or maybe he didn't know about them. Which didn't make much sense either. So that went out.
Strangely enough, of all the things I've cut out, moving Milliayn to Bairek and getting rid of the laser guns top the list of most difficult things to remove. Mostly because it had been that way since the beginning, and to change it rocked my fictional world. After that would probably be any name changes, since when you're reading a book you really see a character through their name. Imagine if it were Henry Potter and the Socerer's stone. Even for people who haven't read the books, that's got to just seem wrong. Harry's name is Harry and it always will be and if it were anything else, it might've been a very different book.

A couple name changes:
Ondray to Cam
Kourtnye to Cara
Rhyan to Ryan
Zamuel to Samuel to Luke to Luc
Tomeas to ??? to Avigdor
Rienna Ninya to Rienna Lee
Grennid to Triennia (City in Aouthentica)
Villen to Talman Perdant to Talman Arion

A couple other places got their names changed, but that wasn't as traumatizing to me as changing character names. Unfortunately, I think there might have to be a few more name changes before I finally finish (I'm kind of dreading finishing, as that will mean my characters will have a definite story and I won't be able to play around with them in my head anymore. Writing can be like playing dolls or house for me.). Aouthentica may eventually be completely renamed, which I'm having trouble making myself consider, again because that's the way it's always been. And Cerra (Sarah). She might have to have her name changed. Which is a horrible concept to me, but if it's too weird, it may have to be done. (Check out the poll on the sidebar to help me decide).
Well, I've got to wrap this up, even though I think I could keep talking about Aouthentica for hours and hours. I hope this conveys how much I absolutely love this story, because of all the novels I've started, this one is my favorite.

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass! 
-Trinity 

(Picture attribute: Longai.devianart

Monday, January 14, 2013

Back To Orphna





Hannah here.
This is really a difficult post for me. Trinity recommended that I write about, as she put it, "The land of the giant possums."
That's Orphna.
I'll explain the giant possums in a minute.

Orphna is both a fictional land and a nickname for my first book. My first book, which was actually, interestingly, inspired by a series of tape recordings I ad-libbed with two of my sisters. It had no plot, which is common with my earlier stories. The basic idea was that the main character, Arsha (no last name), had a secret that some bad guys wanted. The bad guys were just bad guys, for no reason, and they were chasing her constantly to get the secret. That was the recording "plot". The recording is lost now. But as I started writing, the story evolved a bit, into something a little bit better.

To begin with, I never finished Orphna. I didn't get farther than ten pages into it when I stopped. My family was really encouraging, and I loved writing it, but now that I'm going back over it... as Trinity said in her previous post, about the eye-clawing... I can relate. It was so clichéd. It was... very not good.

For example (and a little piece of me is dying as I post this):

Arsha ran down the slightly worn path, her soft shoes hitting the dirt.
“Just give up, Arsha! You have no choice!” A voice called out behind her.
Arsha sighed,
“No way, Jorph, I’m not going to tell you! Find out on your own!”
“Charge!” Jorph shouted. She glanced behind herself and gulped when she realized a large group of trained soldiers were now being commanded by Jorph. “That’s not...what I meant.”


So here was the basic slap-together story-line: There is a queen in "an island far in the Indian Ocean, in the large empty space between Madagascar and Australia, though not really empty." I somehow felt a need to put Orphna in the real world, so I just went to the map on the wall and picked a blank section of ocean.

So anyway, Queen Losila did something that the people of Orphna didn't like. In this case, she took their... bees away. The majority of the population were beekeepers, and she, for unknown reasons, outlawed bees. Naturally, one would assume, the people were not happy with that. So they revolted.
Secondly, the main characters. They were the advisors to the queen. So when the people went after the queen, the advisors were next. So Losila sent them into hiding for their own safety. A fine story on it's own... but not the way I wrote it. Anyways, the main characters are these: Arsha, Kiake, Denna, Mylenda, Jenza, and Xren.
Arsha is the lead character. Kiake and Xren are her best friends. Xren is the only man in the group. Denna, a mother whose husband was killed by the yezben (giant possums). She has a 4-year-old daughter, Jenza. And Mylenda was an advisor who had already been caught and assumedly killed by the Cerchin (that's what the core of the revolters call themselves).
The advisers, also known as the Vinzine, have been hiding in a forest hut for a few years, all five of the remaining members. But they still have to get food, so every week or so one of the members will travel in disguise to the nearest market and get supplies before heading back to the woods. In this case, Arsha had gone to the market and was discovered by Jorph, the active leader of the Cerchin. The Cerchin are trying to find the Vinzine's hideout, so they chase Arsha, hoping she'll lead them to the fort, which she does. She thinks she outruns them and heads to the fort, but they follow, so the story starts with the entire team being chased out of their hideout.

While reading through this again, I can actually tell that I was basing it, perhaps subconsciously, on the Inheritance Cycle books. For example, the Vinzine, a classic good-guy band with a title, like Varden, both starting with V. If it worked for Christopher Paolini...
I've also worked out the time I was writing it - back in 2008, so when I was 10. The dates are messed up on my computer since we have wiped the system twice since I started writing, so I had to take a guess. One telling point was the big bad guy's name: Barama, which, in the little pronunciation guide (also inspired by the Inheritance books), I note that it rhymes with Obama. Our family is ultra-Conservative, so at age 10, basically all I knew about the elections was that McCain and Palin were good and Obama was bad. My naming skills needed work.
After writing this, I'm considering starting on the story again. But I'll have to change a lot of things. Like the bee-farm-banning thing.

Feedback is welcome and appreciated. We're going to start scheduling posts, so, Lord willing, we'll be able to get a post up on a regular basis, probably every other day, except on weekends.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Aouthentica - Synopsis Part 1

Ever since I (Trinity) last posted, I've been working on my synopsis of Aouthentica. It's taken a lot longer and has become a lot more detailed than I thought it would be. It's helped me find and patch plot holes (no one can find plot holes in my story like I can), and to remember what's going on, since I hadn't worked on it for a couple months and the details were starting to slip my mind. 
So here's the first part, and I do apologize if it's a little too detailed, but I was really just trying to get everything out so I'd remember it in the future. 
Um, first, a quick list of names for reference (in case they get confusing): 

Avigdor Arion - Jrew's uncle, king of Aouthentica 
Anai Arion - Avigdor's brother, Rayla's husband, Jrew's father, prince of Aouthentica
Rayla Arion - Princess of Aouthentica, Anai's wife, Jrew's mother, Avigdor's sister-in-law

Talman Arion - Second cousin to Avigdor, Captain of the Guard
Falk Halcone - Right-hand man to Talman, ambassador, in charge of Triennia
Keyla Bardon - In charge of Triennia under Falk, Eyrik's peer, Falk's assistant

Arron Vitez - Avigdor's right-hand man, Jrew's surrogate father
Liza Vulken - Previous agent for Avigdor, Rienna's surrogate mother

Anjrew "Jrew" Arion - True heir to Aouthentica's throne, best friend of Rienna, son of Anai and Rayla
Rienna Lee - Best friend and agent for Jrew Arion
Kisha Garreth - Agent for Jrew, nurse, cousin of Cerra
Cerra Samerest - Agent for Jrew, cousin of Kisha
Cam and Cara Rodriguez - Twin brother and sister, agent for Jrew.
Ashley Hale - Agent for Jrew, best friends with Lydia
Lydia Mening - Agent for Jrew, best friends with Ashley
Daven Cortel - Agent for Jrew, kind of new

Lord Anson - Previously adviser to Avigdor, advises Jrew now
Lord Carter - Previously adviser to Avigdor, advises Jrew now
Lord Dominick - Previously adviser to Avigdor, advises Jrew now

Luc Walker - Director of Gillam
Eyrik Duell - Captain of the Commandos in Gillam
Jesse Stoiker - Commando, best friend of Eyrik

King Domhan - King of Bairek, associate of Avigdor
Queen Lurra - Wife of Domhan, deceased
Queen Terra - New queen of Bairek
Prince Erde - Younger brother of Terra

Aouthentica - Country ruled by the Arions for hundred of years
Aryeh - Aouthentica's capitol
Triennia - City in Aouthentica
Gillam - Town in Aouthentica

Bairek - Neighboring country to Aouthentica
Cordyne - Bairek's capitol
Milliayn - Town in Bairek

Okay, and here's part one of the actual synopsis on this ever-so-long post:

The kingdom of Aouthentica has been ruled by the Arions for over two hundred years. The current ruler, Avigdor Arion, has no wife and no heir. However, his beloved brother, Prince Anai, and sister-in-law, Princess Rayla, have a son, Anjrew Arion, who he is perfectly content to leave the throne to.
Unfortunately, the brother's second cousin, Talman Arion, finally puts his crusade for the throne into action, using his position as captain of the guard as an opportunity to turn the Aouthentican military against their own king.
His coupe, culminating with an attack on the palace itself, is successful: The king is killed, as well as Anai and Rayla. His loyal subjects are scattered and driven from Aouthentica. His right-hand man, Arron Vitez manages to escape with the two-year-old prince to the neighboring country of Bairek, along with a few other palace occupants.
Arron goes to the King of Bairek and requests refuge for the true heir. Seeing a valuable bargaining chip to use against the new king of Aouthentica, the king of Bairek agrees, and gives the refugees Milliayn, a half-built town. A few more Aouthentican refugees trickle in and are redirected to Milliayn, but soon they stop coming due to Talman locking down the borders.

Nineteen years pass with little to no political activity in Bairek or, presumably, Aouthentica, which has become a very closed, secretive country under Talman's rule. However, all reports convey that the people are happy and prospering.
Then the king of Bairek dies, leaving the country in the hands of his daughter, Terra, who is not known for her wisdom or discernment.
Doubt and worry falls over the minds of the Millianites concerning their future. Jrew Arion is now 21 and the people miss their homeland. With Arron's guidance, and three lord's (from Avigdor's old counsel) advice, he decideds the time to take action has come.
First, he goes to speak with the new queen in person, along with Arron, Daven Cortel, Cerra Samerest, and the Lord Dominick.
Second, he sends his best friend and right hand, Rienna Lee, her surrogate mother Liza Vulken, and Kisha Garreth in one team to "investigate" the state of Aouthentica.
Almost as soon as Liza's team enters Aouthentica she is recognized and arrested. Barely escaping, Rienna and Kisha flee farther down into Aouthentica. They tell Jrew what's happened and he sends Ashley Hale and Lydia Mening to rescue Liza.
While travelling back roads and through the woods to avoid the Central Police, Rienna and Kisha come across a large cement compound, with walls too high to see over. They stop to investigate, but before they can they are captured by an unknown group.
Meanwhile, Jrew is having his own troubles with Queen Terra. Talman has sent ambassadors to influence her against Milliayn, and she is very hostile toward them, trying Jrew's patience. After a particularly frustrating meeting, Terra's younger, but more mature, brother, Prince Erde, offers his encouragement and a little secret assistance as he feels it would be better for Bairek if Jrew were on the throne. However, how much assistance Erde can offer greatly depends on convincing Terra of their side of the argument; While Terra holds the throne of Bairek, Erde holds their hearts, a fact she is well aware of. If she decided against backing Jrew's claim to the throne, Erde could be committing treason; Or worse, if she decided to back Talman's claim to the throne, Erde could start a civil war, something he is not willing to risk.
Unbeknownst to everyone at the meeting Daven is recording it to give to Talman's ambassador, Falk Halcone, who's greatest delight would be to start a civil war, as that would weaken Bairek enough that Aouthentica (Or more specifically, Talman) could take over the country they were once equal to.

Rienna and Kisha find themselves in separate prison cells, guarded by surprisingly courteous jailers. Rienna finds a way to make a break for it, but is confronted by Captain Eyrik Duell, and (to her shock) is defeated in hand-to-hand combat and taken to the mysterious Director. The Director turns out to be an older gentleman named Luc who politely interrogates her and eventually reveals that she is in Gillam: the place all of the other Aouthenticans who wanted to leave fled to after Talman closed the borders down. Rienna mentions the concrete walls and he quickly corrects her. The compound she saw before was not Gillam, but an invention of Talman's. The entire country is now run by blackmail. There is a member of almost every family in Aouthentica in a compound somewhere. Talman has the compoundees working for him and simultaneously uses them as leverage to enlarge his army and prevent uprisings.
Rienna believes him, but only reveals half her story. In exchange, Luc only gives her half her freedom: she may explore Gillam to confirm the validity of his story, but she will be accompanied at all times by a Commando (Gillam's peacekeepers), and she must return to her cell at nightfall. Rienna agrees to this, and, to her disgust, she is assigned Eyrik Duell as her watchman.
She meets up with Kisha, who is assigned Jesse Stoiker, and the two compare stories. They are relieved that they both chose the same course of action in only sharing the barebones of their mission in Aouthentica. During the course of the day they learn that Luc was indeed telling the truth and they agree to share the rest of their mission with Luc, who releases them from Gillam's custody.

Back in Milliayn, the Lords Anson and Carter are alerted that Queen Terra will be sending representatives to inspect Milliayn's structures in comparison with Bairek's building codes since the town was only half built when Domhan let them move in.
Unfortunately, the ongoing construction of Milliayn was and always has been a haphazard affair, each citizen building on as they saw fit, without a thought toward building codes.
The Lords, along with Cam and Cara Rodriguez, must think of a way to immediately improve almost every structure in Milliayn, and quickly, because they're beginning to garner public attention, and the inspection itself is no doubt a ploy by the Queen to further discredit and disgrace Jrew.
|••| With no other solution the Lords muster the Milliaynites and begin repairing and rebuilding Milliayn as quickly as possible. Cam and Cara are assigned to learn the building codes as quickly as possible. |••|

Upon getting their possesions back, Rienna recieves a call from Ashley and Lydia, informing her that they cannot locate Liza in Aryeh, but they heard a rumor that she was sent to Hospitality Center. Rienna directs them to come to Gillam to regroup, and relays the message to Luc and the Commandos. Luc tells her that the politically correct term for the compounds is a Hospitality Center, as the occupants are now "enjoying" Talman's hospitality and Eyrik may be able to help locate Liza.
He explains that Eyrik lives a double life, spending half his time in Triennia, undercover as an officer directly under Falk Halcone, who runs Triennia when he is not running errands for Talman. He has only one peer, Keyla Bardon, as he is above everyone else.
His high status allows him to visit regularly, and to warn and protect Gillam.
Eyrik vehemently opposes the idea, especially when Rienna decides to go along. She lays out her plan: Eyrik will take her into Triennia under the pretense of just making a pit stop after having captured her and being under orders to personally take her to join Liza.
Luc likes and agrees to the plan, but he must give Eyrik a direct order to carry it out.

In Cordyne (Bairek's capitol) Jrew's troubles are mounting. Terra has found out about Erde and Jrew's secret meeting, and is absolutely furious, accusing them both of plotting against her. Erde angrily confronts Jrew, demanding to know why he told Terra. Jrew assures him that he wasn't the one to tell Terra, and the two princes conclude that someone from their meeting must have betrayed them, though neither is willing to suspect their own men. Finally, they agree to quietly investigate their own group.
Jrew tells Arron of the development, and Arron promises to help him investigate Lord Dominick, Daven, and Cerra. Jrew continues to struggle with the idea that one of them could be a traitor.

Remember, I'm still working on it, and that's not the end (for those who complain about my "bloody cliffhangers"). This will be going on my "Trinity's Works" page when it's completed.
Also, since I'm a geek about my own stories, I may do a post where I share all the nitty-gritty details about Aouthentica's past, which is very long and (IMHO) very interesting. 
And, if you're very very very lucky, I may post part of my original Milliayn story, which makes me want to sink into the floor, curl up in a ball, and claw my eyes out all at once when I read it. So, ya'll will probably think it's hilarious. 

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!
-Trinity

P.s.
This little thing: |••| doesn't mean anything except to me. It's just a note to remind me that the stuff between is new, and so I can find it quickly.

Monday, January 7, 2013

New Year's Almost-Resolution


"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.
"What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Gandalf. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off."
"Not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Let me see, I don't think I know your name."
"Yes, yes, my dear sir - and you do know my name, though you don't rmember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I sould have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"

Well, I am Hannah, and Hannah means me. And my New Year's Almost-Resolution is a tough one. Well, there are two, and they are both tough, but the second one is tougher and that's the main point of this post. At least for the moment. I wouldn't be surprised if I wander a bit toward the end.

Number one is doing the 30-Day Shred all the way through. 30 days. I've already been slacking, but I started again today and I think I might be able to get it done.
Number two is finish a book.

I seriously want to get at least one book done this year. My head is making more books than I can keep up with. I was sketching a picture the other day, and my sister automatically guessed that it was a character from one of my books.

Sarah: "Who is Xavier?" (I didn't put a name on the picture, but she had seen a sketch of Xavier a few weeks earlier)
Me: "Who?"
Sarah: "What is this guy's name?"
Me: "Xavier. Why?"
Sarah: "Is Xavier in your Padarath book?"
Me: "No..." 
Sarah: "Which one is he in?"
Me: "My elf series."
Sarah: "Which book?"
Me: "Umm......" (counting) "Seven and Eight."
Sarah: "And how many of these do you have so far?"
Me: "One?"

So I really, really want to get a move on, for two reasons. Maybe three. Or four. 

One: I want to write a lot of stuff before the books in my head crowd out everything else and I am finally committed to an insane asylum. Once I get the books on paper, I can resort to thinking about them only occasionally, usually to bemoan over terrible writing, instead of being inwardly obsessed with every detail of every thing in a whole world in a whole dimension all the time.

Two: It almost always seems like the book I'm on currently isn't the most exciting one. I'm constantly hankering after another book that  have in my head, either to flesh out more of the characters, or to get into some action I'm missing. (Yes, I did say hankering.)

Three: I want people, at least my siblings and close friends, to read what's happening to these poor tortured characters! Plus, I've had people waiting for the next installment since 2009.

Four: Because I'm never absolutely sure what's going on until I'm done. I want to know what happens too!

In fact, there's a whole list of reasons for me to write. I've pinned several of them on Pinterest, but here are the basics, the reasons for me to write, not necessarily as a New Year's Resolution.

Why I Write:



Keep in mind that this is an Almost-Resolution. That means I don't trust myself enough to make a promise I might break later (I don't care if Peter Parker does think those are the best kind). I don't know if will be able to do this, time-wise, schedule-wise or discipline-wise. But that's what I'm trying to do, and y'all are my guilt monkeys. So please do me a favor and make me feel guilty. Especially since I just spent all this time browsing Pinterest for these pictures when I should have been writing.

Now, Trinity said a little something about things that happened to her this year. Mostly, I've been involved with all of the same projects she has, besides numbers 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 13, 19, 20, 22, 23, and 25. Which makes it seem that all the exciting things in her life don't include me? Basically, fun things happened and we didn't die yet. So it was a good year. There were few life-changing events concerning moi. I didn't get my hair cut, or get my driver's license, both of which are fine with me for the moment. No new siblings this year, which is okay-ish, I guess. Would like a new sister though. At least girls look a bit different, as opposed to my five carbon-copy brothers. But I'm very thankful for the siblings I have.

On a different note, I am interested to know about the things you have all been doing over New Year's, concerning celebrations and resolutions and what-not. We roasted a pig; what did you eat?  

So that's all I have to say for now. Thank you very much for listening to my weary talk. I appreciate that people care to look at this, and I love it when we get feedback. It makes both of us so excited, I know.

"Merry is May-time!" said Bilbo, as the rain beat into his face. "But our back is to legends and we are coming home. I suppose this is the first taste of it."
"There is a long road yet," said Gandalf.
"But it is the last road," said Bilbo.