Character Group Rules - Giant Snakes

Hi, Hannah here. A very merry Un-Thursday to you!

I know my calendar said that the twenty-sixth of February was Tuesday. But it wasn't Tuesday, really, it was Monday, if you can believe my internal calendar. Either that or Wednesday. My internal calendar is confused. After the super-long break between posts, my idea of time concerning blogs gave up and retreated. So Monday was actually Tardeday. Nothing to do with Doctor Who, it's referring to my retardedness when it comes to the days of the week. Tardeday is the extra day that is inserted when a week goes either too slow or too fast. It's either the day you missed, or the one that apparently made it an eight-day slug week when you weren't looking.

In any case, sorry for postponing my post (hee hee, post-poning). I'm working on ideas for today's. My ten-year-old sister suggested that I say something about the giant snakes in Darby's Quest, and since I don't know much about them yet, I thought I'd better get on that.

So this is a Character Group Rules Post. Concerning... snakes.

Giant Snakes

From carloscara.deviantart.com

Yeah, this is basically what they look like. I think at one point I described them to be around twenty feet tall (when rearing up), and if you put your arms out with the fingertips together like you're reaching around a tree... they're about twice that thick. The total length of an adult snake is probably around fifty feet long. I'm just judging by my nine-foot ceiling. If you don't think twenty feet tall is very big, try taking a measuring tape outside and put a twenty-foot length straight up in the air, against a tree or something. I just went and stretched a twenty-foot length out on the ground in my kitchen, and I didn't even bother to go up to fifty feet. My measuring tape isn't that long.

Now, if you spread your arms out as wide as you can, that's about how wide the mouth of a giant snake is. So yeah, being an elastic-intestiney snake, I bet one could swallow a dragon.

The main breeding grounds for the giant snakes (which I really need to think of a name for) is in Darkvale. I mentioned Darkvale in this post here: http://quillinherquiver.blogspot.com/2012/12/location-post-eyra.html .

If you've ever seen Harry Potter and the Chamber Of Secrets, imagine the basilisk.

Except more reptilian.

Every once in a while, one of these enormous serpents will leave their hunting/breeding grounds and begin to prey on the Elvish cities nearby. In the event of this happening, the Elves of the city will gather some volunteers and go out to get rid of the scourge. Some of the Elves would think of it as a sport, like boar hunting in olden times. Dangerous, but a long-awaited challenge.
Some have lobbied to get the entire race extinguished, but the problem has not yet been breached by the Elvish council.

The giant snakes are slightly intelligent. They can't talk like dragons can (their tongues would get in the way anyhow), but they can understand some intelligent speech. This caused them to be persuaded/brainwashed to join the Superior's ranks, partly out of a desire to rid Eyra of dragons.

Oh, two things. First, the Superior is my nickname for the villain in Darby's Quest. You are the first to be introduced to them! Second, the snakes really hate light. That's why they like to live in Darkvale. And they hate dragons mostly because of their love to breathe fire, which creates the hated light and warmth. Yes, I did just make that up, how did you guess?


I think that's all I have on the giant snakes so far. A large part of my brain has been taken up by a new story idea that has been growing like mold. Not a lovely simile, but anyway. Sofie and Colter are stuck in the woods until I finish this post, fix my Orphna cover (well, how was I supposed to know the chick that I used was Lara Croft? I've never played Tomb Raider), and maybe storyboard that music video that is "due" on March 4th. Then there's the birthday party. My sister's birthday was yesterday, Mama's birthday is tomorrow, my brother's is the day after that, Sarah's is the 10th, Darby's the 11th, and Darby's sister's birthday was two days ago, so the upcoming "Big Birthday Bash" is taking up most of our time.
Oh, yeah, and I have to work on my slowly-assembling art blog, http://www.sistersketches.blogspot.com/, that I'm co-operating with Sarah (my younger sister).

Um, I was planning not to make any excuses. We might not be able to get a post up until around the 5th, though.

Feedback is very welcome. Basically, one of my biggest problems is getting an idea for a post, so if there's anything you'd like to know about, from either Trinity or I, asking is not a problem.

Hmm, I'm thinking I need a signature to finish off my posts, something like what Trinity has. 

Oh well.

Explanations, Not Excuses

It's been a really long time since we've written a post. It's kind of my fault. I dropped the ball first and both Hannah and I just kind of sat down and watched it roll away. I dont't really have an excuse, but I do have a bit of an explanation. I've been spending almost all of my spare time studying to take the GED test so I can graduate this year, as well as preparing for an ice storm that came through, and trying to get some stuff sold online, and (sort of) maintaining a clean room, and assisting my mother with her at-home business, plus now that it's (supposed to be) getting warmer the family plant/nursery business is starting to get into swing again. Busy, busy, busy. And of course, we go to the library once a week, and I can't resist getting books, even if I know I hardly have time to read them.

(On a totally-mostly unrelated topic, I'm keeping a log of all the books I read this year, which should make for an interesting year-end post. So far I'm up to 21 finished books.)

However, I did recently read through my Tribes Of The Earth manuscript, such as it is, and I'm eager to keep writing on it now. The only problems are A: Finding enough time, and B: Remembering what in the world I was planning to do with the characters and plot, because I've almost completely forgotten.

Hmm... Oh. I've got two or three drafts saved and half finished for posting, so some of them might pop up pretty soon, including a Beautiful People post on the best character ever, Rienna Lee. And I think there's a book review post in there too.

So, a little update for the readers. (I found out recently that most of our views, as in, 96% of them, are from spam URLs and not real views at all. Is that depressing or what? Out of 100 "views" four of them were from actual people. And I have a suspicion that those people came on accident and left immediately.)

Anyway, that's what's up. More posts should be on the way soon, though!

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!
-Trinity

Book Recommendations - Artemis Fowl

 The first in a series of book recommendations/reviews by Trinity and myself. The today's subject shall be the Artemis Fowl series. Don't worry, no spoilers.

Artemis Fowl

by Eoin Colfer

This is one of my main fan-girling series. It consists of eight books: Artemis Fowl, The Arctic Incident, The Eternity Code, The Opal Deception, The Lost Colony, The Time Paradox, The Atlantian Complex, and The Last Guardian.

This particular series was first "discovered" by Trinity (which is common). And while she mentioned quite a few funny things that were said and done, the subject did not sound very interesting. "It's about an Irish boy who finds fairies," she said.

Mm. Fascinating.

But that doesn't do it justice at all.

Artemis Fowl is a twelve-year-old Irish boy, yes. But he's also a millionaire, a genius, and, most importantly, a criminal mastermind. After some research, he believes he has confirmed the existance of fairies, and, with the help of his bodyguard, Butler, kidnaps one. 

But this is no sappy, bedtime-story Tinker Bell fairy - this is Captain Holly Short of LEPrecon, the recon division of the LEP, and a fairy elf. And Artemis Fowl gets a lot more that he bargained for.

This is just the first book. The saga continues throughout eight books, the last of which came out just last year. The series has been compared to Harry Potter, which is apt in part. The Artemis Fowl series, in my opinion, is mostly character-centered, though the plots are clever - at times I might even go so far to say ingenious. There is a lot of humor and witty jokes throughout the books, along with pretty lovable characters.

Also, as a little nerdy bonus feature, on the bottom edge of the pages in almost all of the books, there is a code that is mentioned in the story. If you crack the code, there is a little page-long message for the reader. Just an interesting little tidbit.

As a warning, this series is not strictly Christian. Some of the books have demon characters, briefly mention evolution, have minor expletives, and all of them involve magic. Read at your own discretion.

If I win, I'm a prodigy.

If I lose, then I'm mad.

That's the way history is written.

- Artemis Fowl

Blurbs: Red River

Trinity here. Yes, this post is a day late. Moving right along.

I don't remember what originally inspired this, and I wrote it just a couple months ago. But it's a different genre from what I usually write (fantasy/dystopian and the like) because it's a western. Again, I've completely forgotten where this came from, but I think out of all my other stories, I have the most personal experience with this type of environment because I actually live in the south.

Anyhow, this is the beginning of the story of Lacey Agnes McClain, (the daughter of Aidan McClain) a social butterfly in her eastern town. She has no mother (for as yet undecided reasons), but her father owns several stores, so they're relatively wealthy. She and her father are very close, so she's devastated when he's killed in an accident. She's almost equally horrified when she finds out she has to leave the busy city, and move to the tiny western town of Red River to live with her father's old friend, Jesse Chase, and his son William on their ranch, as she has no living family elsewhere.

(Note: There are a lot of animals on the Chase Ranch, and naming them all falls to Will, who has very little imagination when it comes to animals. Thus, the horse's name is Shoulders (because he has big shoulders) and the milk cow's name is Spots (because she's got spots). No animal other than Shoulders makes an appearance in this snippet, but I just thought I'd explain why he has such a lame name.)


Will sat back on the wagon seat and tipped his hat forward to cover his eyes. The train wasn't supposed to arrive for another twenty minutes, so he figured he might as well catch a few winks. Naps were a rare treat in his line of work; there just wasn't enough time in the day.

The sun shone down brightly, warming the little town of Red River. A gentle breeze rolled over the water of the town's namesake and lazily wound it's way around the buildings and through the streets. Will's horse, Shoulders, shifted his weight and flicked his tail at a fly, perfectly content to wait.

What seemed like mere moments later, a long low whistle sounded in the distance. Will lifted his hat with one thumb and peeked at the town clock.

"Twenty minutes already." He mumbled.

Shoulders' ears swiveled back toward Will, waiting for a command. Will climbed down from the wagon and Shoulders went back to contemplating whatever it is horses contemplate.

Will walked over to the train depot, hands stuffed in his pockets, and stepped up on the platform, leaning against one of the pillars nonchalantly. No expression whatsoever crossed his face as the train squealed to a halt, then blew it's whistle one more time. The one passenger bound for Red River stepped off and looked around curiously.

With a groan of dismay, Will removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair.

She was wearing a frilly dress the color of pink lemonade, and a large white bow was tied around her tiny waist. Underneath her flowery bonnet, blonde curls peeked out. She was pretty, that was for sure, but she wouldn't last long in Red River. She'd be on the next train out of here, Will was certain.

Putting his hat back on, he stepped forward and said, "Miss Lacey?"

She flashed him a dazzling smile. "That's me. Are you William Chase?"

He winced, and offered his hand, "Call me Will, ma'am."

She hesitated, then gingerly shook his hand. He realized that probably wasn't the way gentlemen greeted ladies back east. After a moment of thought, he decided he didn't care. He didn't have time to pander to her fancy ways. She'd either get used to the Red River style of living or she'd go back to where she came from.

"So, Will," She said sweetly, as the porter set her trunk down, "Where's your carriage?"

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "The wagon's just 'round the corner."

"Wag-" She clamped her mouth shut and walked around the corner.

Will hoisted her trunk onto his shoulder and followed her. She stood staring at Shoulders and his wagonload 

of lumber.

"Oh," She said vaguely, "A wagon."

He decided to have a little fun with her. "Do you call them somethin' else back east?"

"No..." She answered uncertainly, "We just have other purposes for them."

Will kept a completely straight face as he put her trunk in the back and asked, "People don't ride in them no more?"

"Not as a primary form of conveyance."

He shot her a look of disdain.

"That means we usually use a different way to get from place to place." She explained kindly.

He frowned and climbed up onto the wagon seat. "I know what it means."

"Oh." She blushed very prettily. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you weren't-"

He let out a loud sigh of exasperation. "Miss Lacey, if you'd be so kind as to get in, we could be on our way."

She blushed more fiercely and eyed the side of the wagon. It wasn't real high, but it'd be a bit of a challenge for a young lady dressed as she was. With a glint of determination in her blue eyes, she gathered her skirt up in one hand and began clambering up into the wagon.

Will stuck to his guns. He would not go easy on her. Any other Red River woman could and would climb in and out of wagons several times a day without his help; She could learn to do it too.

She put her left foot up on the wagon floor and began pulling herself up with her right hand. But when she tried to put her other foot up, her patent leather boots slipped on the worn wood of the wagon. She let out a most unlady-like whoop and tumbled head-over-heels into the dirt.

Will looked away to give her some privacy as she got up and rearranged her skirts, as well as to hide his grin.

When she was standing next to the wagon again she asked meekly, "I don't suppose I could ask for your assistance, Mr. William?"

Will leaned over and held his hand out to her. She took it, planted her right boot firmly against the edge of the wagon floor and pulled herself up. After several moments of spinning around and rearranging her skirts, during which time Will had to bat the big white bow out of his face more than once, she finally settled herself on the wagon bench.

"Can we move on now?" He asked wryly.

I really like describing Lacey's wardrobe, since it's colorful and interesting, but also ridiculous. It also shows that she has no idea what Red River is going to be like.
So, I made some dress up dolls of what I think she'd look like when she first gets to Red River, and what she'd look like after she's been in Red River awhile and has all her chores and stuff to do around the ranch.

 

(I made these at http://azaleasdolls.com/ which is strangely addicting and a lot of fun. It's... a lot of fun. Plus you can create a likeness of almost any female character you've ever come up with (the guys aren't so great in my opinion). Even if/Especially if it's a fantasy character. Like a mermaid with wings.)

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!
-Trinity

Character Post - Arsha Garyn

It's Hannah again. It has taken a long, long time to get this up. At one point I had to leave and just take an afternoon nap so that my brain could rest.
Thank you Trinity and Darby for helping me get this all sorted out.
Introducing Arsha Garyn (formerly Arsha Beacon).

Arsha Garyn
Queen's Council

Ah, yes, Arsha. She just got a last name... um, today. But still, she's one of my oldest characters. Likely the oldest.

Arsha Garyn is a council-woman of Queen Losila's court. She isn't the oldest, but has been there the longest. Queen Losila trusts her completely.

When she has to escape from the mob trying to impeach and probably hang the Queen, she does so calmly and in control of the situation. She's a fair hand with a saber, and usually has a knife concealed in the folds of her skirt.
Once Arsha and her fellow council members have to survive in the forest outside of Orphna's borders, however, she has to trade in her noblewoman gowns for a more functional tunic and leggings.

Arsha's closest friends, apart from the Queen herself, are Xren Chauncey and Kiake Sennett. Xren, a seasoned though young soldier, and Kiake, a bright and bubbly young lady who unsurprisingly specializes in public relations. When trying to escape the enraged civilians of Orphna, the three of them have to depend on each others' skills to survive.

[After this point in writing, I got stuck. Trinity suggested I do a Beautiful People Questionnaire as developed by Sky and Georgie Penn. The first edition.]

1. What is their full name?

Arsha Rainnania Garyn. Often she keeps her middle name a secret. There are only six living people who know what it is, the Queen, Xren and Kiake included.

2. Does his or her name have a special meaning?
Yes, it does. The initials represent the trouble we had picking a name. ARG! Also, Darby picked out the name Rainnania.

3. Does your character have a methodical or disorganized personality?
Methodical. One of her most valuable attributes is that she can stay calm during crises.

4. Does he or she think inside themselves more than they talk out loud to their friends? (more importantly, does he or she actually have friends?)
She thinks in her own mind, most of the time. It wouldn’t do for the others to find out that she’s inwardly panicking or about to lose her cool. As for the friends, yes, she does have two, Xren and Kiake. Xren's experience and Kiake's playful spirit help balance her out.

5. Is there something he or she is afraid of?
Disappointing the Queen or her friends. She tries the hardest to stay in control of herself at all time.

6. Does he or she write, dream, dance, sing, or photograph?
She dreams, but she doesn't tell anyone her dreams, nighttime or future-related. Arsha prefers to be seen as a firm, down-to-earth person. She can dance quite gracefully, being a lady of the court. And she can sing, but does that rarely. In her opinion, there are more important things to be done.

7. What is his or her favorite book? (or genre of books)
Ironically, early romance novels.

8. Who is his or her favorite author and/or someone that inspires him or her?
Arsha has few role models. Her mother died when she was young, and she isn't very close to her father, sadly. The queen is like a mother or an older sister to her. Queen Losila's serious, calm, wise demeanor inspires Arsha to imitate her.

9. Favorite flavor of ice cream?
I'm sure Arsha's never tasted ice cream, but if she had, her favorite flavor would be mint.

10. Favorite season of the year?
Fall. It’s calm and cool, and relaxing. She doesn’t mind the nippy breeze, because she enjoys the cool and revels in the gorgeous colors of the fallen leaves.


That's about it. Thank you, Darby and Trinity, for helping me get the ball rolling, so I can finally get this post up, despite it being late. About nine hours late.
Feedback is very helpful. In my case, mostly for making a final decision. Trinity is often annoyed at my indecisiveness, so if you have something that you would like to read about, it would make the process of getting a post up faster and easier. Toodle-pip!

Blurbs: Young Liza

http://dahliart.jp/

So I was thinking I wanted to do a sort of creative writing thing (which is surprisingly difficult when you have to assign yourself pictures), and then I came across this picture which reminded me of one of my characters from Aouthentica, Liza Vulken, though a bit younger.

Liza worked for the previous king when she was about Rienna's age (nineteen), and over the years (she's nearing forty now) she's become a very silent, withdrawn, strict person, like this. It's very rare to see her smile. But I imagine that when she was younger she was more innocent and easy-going, though not nearly as easy-going as Rienna is. It's kind of fascinating me right now, imagining her younger, so I'm gonna write a little blurb about her.

Liza closed her eyes and steadily counted to three. On three, she dropped to the floor as a wooden beam flashed out at the place where her head had been seconds before. She rolled over and drew her gun, firing at the red target three times and the blue one five times. Each shot went through the same hole in the exact center. Then she shot the steel plate that trigger the second phase of the exercise. 

She scrambled to her feet and the ground beneath her dropped down, taking her with it. She took the brief respite to switch mags, then she was on the second floor. 

There were four hallways on each side of her. A dummy popped out at the end of the hall in front of her and sped toward her on a track. Liza fired at it several times, but failed to hit the stop target, which was in the head, not the torso. 

She quickly corrected herself, but before she could get off another shot, something slammed into her from behind: The second dummy, which she had completely forgotten about. 

She found herself on the floor a few feet away, staring up at the ceiling and gasping for breath. A voice came through her headset.

"This is a recurring problem, Ms. Vulken, and it could affect your grade."

Liza pushed herself up and croaked, "I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't realize the stop targets had been moved."

"You failed to scan your surroundings." Captain Nahtey said sternly. "That is always the first step. Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. Not Orient, Act."

"I know the OODA loop sequence." Liza replied through gritted teeth, getting to her feet and holstering her gun. 

"Then follow it!" The captain snapped. "If I graduated you now you'd be a dead woman walking."

Liza knew enough not to say anything other than, "Yes, ma'am."

There was silence over the radio for a few moments, and she began to wonder if the phase had been reset. 

Then the captain said in a very formal tone, "There's someone here to see you, Ms. Vulken."

Liza closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. She knew who it was. And she could only hope he hadn't seen her mistake. 

"I'll be there in a moment." 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Liza stopped in front of the door to the training observation room and ran her fingers through her hair, hoping it wasn't too messed up. Then she took a deep breath and entered the room. It was rather gloomy, the only light coming from twenty or thirty television screens on the wall. She realized that they were all playing back various clips of her training exercises from her last year at Imea House. Captain Nahtey was sitting at her desk, silhouetted by the screens, and next to her was just the man Liza didn't want to see.

He turned and grinned at her. "That was quite a hit you took."

Liza didn't answer, trying not to glare at him.

Captain Nahtey turned and stood. "Ms. Vulken, this is Arron Vitez, personal assistant to the King."

"A pleasure, I'm sure." Liza said tightly, shaking his hand.

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine." He gave her an impudent, too-familiar wink.

Liza shook her head slightly to warn him off.

"I'm here to find another recruit for the king's personal task force." Arron said, gesturing to the screens. "Captain Nahtey was kind enough to help me review your training sessions, and I think you might be the one."

She met and held his gaze for a long minute, then said, "I don't want the position."

Arron just smiled.

"Ms. Vulken, this position would take you above and beyond anything we can teach here at Imea." The captain advised. "I highly recommend that you accept it."

"I don't want it." She repeated firmly. "Now, may I be dismissed?"

"No." Arron looked entirely too amused. "This isn't an option. You've been recruited."

Liza stared at him in disbelief, then let out a frustrated sigh. 

Arron looked to the captain. "If I might have a moment to speak with... Ms. Vulken?"

The captain nodded and stepped around them, letting in a flood of light as she went through the door. As soon as it shut again, Liza whirled on Arron.

"Why are you doing this to me?!"

He frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "The captain's right. Working for the king will take farther than anything Imea House has to offer. You should be glad you were chosen."

Liza clenched her fists. "Why was I chosen? I'm not the top of my class. I'm not even near the top."

Arron glanced down at the floor, then looked her in the eye. "We need people we can trust. And I trust you."

"Well, I don't trust you." She shot back.

He groaned. "You're still upset about the prank I played on you?"

"I nearly drowned!" Liza shouted. "Just because you were about to graduate and I was a freshman didn't mean you could use me like a lab rat!" 

"Alright, I made some miscalculations." He admitted. "But you survived."

"No thanks to you. Find someone else to be your recruit. I won't do it." 

"You don't have a choice." Arron pulled a card out of his pocket and gave it to her. "That's my I.D. It says I work directly for the king. That makes you my subordinate and as such, you're required to follow my orders."

Liza glowered at the card for a long moment. "I'll get to keep training?"

"You'll get better training." He promised.

She sighed heavily, then flicked the card back at him. "Fine. I still don't trust you though."

Arron leaned over and picked the card up. "You'll have to sooner or later." 

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a warning." He tucked his I.D. into his back pocket. "Look, Liza. I realize you consider me to be..."

"Brash?"

"Yes, and maybe a little..."

"Cocky?"

"Okay, yeah, but I was thinking more..."

"Reckless? Thoughtless? Arrogant? Hotheaded?"

Arron raised an eyebrow. "Are you finished?"

"No, but I'll stop anyway."

"I realize you consider me to be your nemesis, but it looks like we're going to be working together quite a bit and unless we trust each other someone's going to get hurt." He offered his hand. "Truce?"

After a moment's thought, she nodded and took his hand. "Truce."

"Excellent." His roguish grin was back immediately, and he pulled out a small invitation, which he handed her. "You'll be expected in Aryeh tomorrow morning. General Talman Perdant will be visiting and the king's throwing another one of his dinner dance things. The times are on your invitation. You'll be presented and introduced to him there. See you then."

As he turned to go, she asked, "I'll be presented to the General?"

"No, the king." Arron frowned and said seriously, "You'll be directly under me, and I'm directly under him. In no way whatsoever will you be under the General's command." 

"I understand." She nodded again. 

"And one last thing. It's a formal ball, and you'll be going as my consort, so uh... see if you can't dress yourself up a little." 

Liza's cheeks flushed. "I'll see what I can do."

That's it for now. I might add some more later if I get some ideas.

Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!
-Trinity

Creative Writing and Character Post - Armen Uilleam

So, it's me again, your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Hannah.

Guess what movie we watched last night?

That's right! Batman.

I've had a lot of trouble writing today. And in the past week. Chronic writer's block - not great.
I was going to start off February with a Character Post, but that didn't work out. I realized that I needed to work on Arsha's background and personality a lot more. I could only squeeze out four paragraphs to cover her entire character.
I can't do a Creative Writing today, although that would be fantastic.

I am kid-sitting this morning as Trinity drives my mom to her doctor's appointment for the fourth time this week. I tried to work on this post last night in my less-than-fifteen-minutes of writing time. But a Character Post takes longer than that. So I'm going to do exactly what I shouldn't and put up a Creative Writing.

Not a normal Creative Writing, though. (I said that with the last CW, didn't I? I guess I'm just an unconventional writer.)

This is a little blurb reminiscent of Dr. Seuss's work, or so I'm told. Based on this picture:

Now with this picture, along with others, I try to be... well, creative. I try to think of what it seems to be, and then think of the most unique thing I could make out of it. Then I write it.

What is this picture of? Well, one could assume that this man here is tossing food to this hippopotamus. But this could be from the point of view of the hippo, or of the man, or of the person watching the scene, and so on. Or maybe the man isn't tossing food to the hippopotamus at all. Maybe the hippo is a shape-shifter who actually has telekinesis and the man and the hippo are currently locked in a tug-of-war battle over... maybe it's money, or a rare medicine.

Just something I came up with off of the top of my head.

Observation: All the people in the village are dying of starvation.
Conclusion: If all of the people die of starvation, there be no more people.
Problem: It would be sad to have no more people.
Solution: Install People Feeder!

Yes, indeed, a People Feeder! They are remarkably efficient. Simply build an enormous robot of a dangerous creature (to keep it from getting attacked by other creatures, and big enough to hold lots of food), and send it out somewhere that there is lots of food. Then, once it’s completely full, it will return to the village. When someone wants food, they come to the People Feeder hut (yes, the People Feeder has it’s own special hut), and the People Feeder, like a fountain of nutritional sustenance, will spew out a meal’s worth of food into the villager’s hand! Well, in theory. You get more food if you have better reflexes.

Observation: The People Feeder is having mechanical problems. It runs on bamboo juice, but there is no bamboo to be juiced in the swamps in which it lives. The person who made the People Feeder doesn’t want to go into the swamps to fix it because wet socks make them sneeze.
Conclusion: If the People Feeder Fixer won’t fix the People Feeder, the People Feeder will continue to have mechanical problems because of lack of bamboo juice.
Problem: If the People Feeder has problems, it won’t feed the people.
Solution: Install People Feeder Feeder!

Yes, indeed, a Feeder to Feed a Feeder! A People Feeder Feeder! It is built in the form of a swift animal, such as an antelope, deer, or ostrich. The People Feeder Feeder feeds on bamboo, mashes it up into juice, then Feeds the People Feeder! Ingenious, I know. Once a Feeder Feeder’s fed with Feeder food, it feeds the Feeder til the Feeder’s fed with feed. Then the Feeder Feeder therefore Feeds the people through the People Feeder.

Observation: The Feeder Feeder’s fed up with feeding. The Feeder Feeder won’t feed the Feeder for lack of feed. The Feeder Feeder eats human hair.
Conclusion: The Feeder Feeder must be fed to feed the Feeder.
Problem: If the Feeder Feeder isn’t fed, the Feeder Feeder won’t feed the Feeder!
Solution: All the people in the village line up to feed the Feeder Feeder with their hair (the Feeder Feeder will gently graze their scalps), and will then go to the Feeder’s hut to get their food.

Yes, indeed! Simply sacrifice your hair for food, and you will live well on a Feeder’s food! There are many people in the village, and the hair ought to last long enough.

Observation: All the people in the village are bald.
Conclusion: There is no hair left to feed the Feeder Feeder.
Problem: If the Feeder Feeder isn’t fed, it will not feed the Feeder to feed people to grow the hair to feed the Feeder Feeder food.
Solution: Get all the people to quit being so lazy and get their own food!

It's interesting. I can hardly ever write a Creative Writing without humor in it. It's nearly impossible. My mom once had me try to do a sad one. It was probably the hardest one I've ever done. But when I am writing my usual story (with the elves and such), it is so easy for me to write really personally depressing scenes. Maybe because I have trouble torturing characters that I only know for a fifteen-minute time span.

I have realized that that was a pretty short CW. And I do have about a half an hour before I and my siblings have to be ready to leave. So maybe I'll be able to get around to that Character Post. Not Arsha, though, maybe someone else.

Preferably someone that I know well.

Sigh...

I have been putting off Armen's Character Post for a long time now...

Okay, fine, I'll try my hand at writing about him, then.

Armen Uilleam

Good pictures of Armen are very hard to find. I haven't actually come across a perfect one yet. When I do, rest assured I will explode several times and then post it on here. For the time being, these two pictures come the closest.

Armen is my favorite character, for many reasons. He is almost my oldest character, and definitely the one with the most thorough background.

Here are the interestingest things about Armen (in my opinion).

1. He has an accent - a British accent, in fact. I call him a British Elf, though he has never been to England as far as I know.

2. His eyes change colors. Really, it's fascinating to me. I have a cousin whose grey eyes would change to black when she was angry, and I think that's what I based it off of, but Armen has a much wider array of colors. His eyes, typically, are grey (with an E, always with an E).

Dark blue - sad
Light blue - also sad
Grey - happy/calm
Maroon/Red - angry
Brown - sympathetic
Yellow - frightened (not common)
Green - jealous or worried
Violet - passionate lying (or trying to trick you; it has to do with blood pressure, not the actual wording of the lie)
Orange - confused (also not common)
Black - enraged
White - stunned (and creepy)

3. Armen is a gentleman. His uncle, the one who raised him, made sure to train him correctly. Armen will always be the one to hold the door open for a lady, and he always dresses neatly and properly. Just in habit. Plus he has short hair. No wanna-be Beiber elves.

4. He has skills. And awesomeness. If you haven't seen the parkour video on this post: http://quillinherquiver.blogspot.com/2012/12/character-group-rules-elves.html , you should. Also, with all of his awesomeness and strength and athletic abilities, he also has knives like Legolas'.

And he can use them like nobody's business.

5. Ironically, even with all his super-coolness, Armen is short. He's 5' 4". Taller than me (sigh), but shorter than nearly every other elf he comes into contact with regularly. Even petite Dyani, my sister Sarah's favorite, beats him by a half an inch. He only passes the youngest of Aiken's Gang by one inch.


I do have to do a sequel of this soon, but I seriously gots to go. That's it, then. Ta-ta!