Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Creative Non-Fiction Fun


My (hopefully humorous) take on what marriage is like at my school. 

Marriage
            Affection spreads at the rate of zombie viruses in movies at BYU. In class, chances are someone within arm’s length has a wedding band on. Keep in mind, this is only the married students I’m talking about here. Add in the engaged and the seriously dating and it skyrockets to epidemic levels of infection. Over twenty thousand lost souls: the size of a small city.
            The symptoms include cuddling in open spaces, blushing, random grinning for no apparent reason, constant talking about a member of the opposite sex, filled in weekends, bags under the eyes from texting to two in the morning, and the list continues. If exhibiting more than one of these, don’t panic. Endure the incubation period with a brave face. Just try to remain quarantined so as not to infect others.
            Winter is the safest time of year. The love zombies are generally kept indoors and the unpredictable weather makes it more difficult for them to plan outings to entrap the rest of us with ‘group dates’ and saved seats at firesides. Do not be fooled. Their only goal is to make everyone else like them until the entire campus is filled to the brim. Spring is the worst, even the plants pair off. Avoid it if possible. If unavoidable… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry but you might as well give in. It’ll be easier that way. 

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Old Spice Crossover

I bet if Old Spice got Tom Hiddleston as their spokesman, they’d sell a lot more…

Just picture it:

Tom(as Loki): “Hello, ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using ladies scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on Stark Tower with the god your man could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s the tesseract with the power to make the mortals kneel. Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. Loki’d!”



I think it would be fun. Anyways! School is officially back in session and hopefully, I'll have a few more posts up. Later ya'll <3

Friday, August 17, 2012

Another Video !

Loki tribute! Woooo~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMJi-YrrbG4&feature=youtu.be

Yeah, I know, I know, it's not writing. But it is creative!

I haven't been doing much writing this past month because I've had the chance to work as an editor. (Yay, money!)
So to include some writing (because that's what my blog is all about), here's tips from from published authors:

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed"
-- Ernest Hemingway

"If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it."
-- Elmore Leonard

"Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass"
-- Anton Chekhov

and to round it off with George Orwell:
1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
2. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
6. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Fractured Chronicles part 2 - Marrok

“Long live the King!” Marrok said,
throwing knife in hand. He stared at the wolf carved into the opposite wall.
The stained oak was heavily splintered from years of repeated target practice. In
the dim light of the tavern, the animal almost seemed to wink at him.
“Come on, Marrok.” Jack prompted. The
chance of losing a bet always made him anxious. Marrok ignored him, slowing
down his breathing as he focused in on the wolf’s eye. He flipped the blade so
the sharp tip balanced in between his fingertips.
“You never… rush…” Marrok took a
final deep breath before letting the knife fly. The sweet thud quieted the
entire room. “genius.”
Jack started to cheer.
“Not so fast,” Aiden Foster said. He
scowled his way over to the board, portly frame wobbling slightly as he moved.
“Well?” Humphrey Cole asked through
a mouthful of mince pie. “Did he do it?”
Julia, Jack’s younger sister,
scurried after the large man. She pushed against Aiden’s leg until he made room
for her.
“Dead center!” She had to stretch on her
tiptoes to reach the knife’s hilt. “He got the tip right in the pupil.” With a
sharp tug, the weapon wrenched free. She staggered back right into the
innkeeper. “Sorry, Master Peep.”
Julia ducked away, bringing Marrok back
his father’s knife. He tucked the dagger back into his belt. Taking his mother’s
gold scarf from the table, he wrapped it around Julia’s shoulders. She beamed.
“Can I use this to play Red Hood with
the others?” She pointed to a group of young children forming a ring around a
boy with a strip of cloth covering his eyes.
“It’s the wrong color.”
Her lower lip slid out in a pleading
pout.
Marrok chuckled. “Of course you can use
it. Just bring it back when you’re done.”
Julia wrapped her thin arms around his
waist before scampering off.
“Here’s your two-silver piece.” Jack
said. Behind him sat a very disgruntled Mr. Cole.
“I don’t see why we’re splitting this
evenly.” Marrok said, noting a silver coin in Jack’s hand. “I was the only one
risking anything.”
“If you’d lost, I would’ve stolen the
scarf back for you.”
The pair shared a grin.
Marrok glanced to the counter. A large
group of drunken townsmen hiccupped their way through an old shanty as their
wives gabbled throughout the room. Behind them, Beau Peep smoothly evaded their
grabbing hands, making sure each patron paid in full. She had beautiful long
blonde hair and warm brown eyes. Young and fresh, he happily watched her soft
frame swaying back and forth as she wiped the counter clean.
“If you ogle much longer,” Jack said,
“I’ll step in and take her off your hands.”
Marrok jabbed him in the side.
“Seriously though,” Jack continued,
“it’s like she’s turning you into her.” He grabbed a piece of Marrok’s black
hair. “You’ll have longer hair than her pretty soon. And the way you dress; a
man doesn’t need to wash his clothes every single day.”
Marrok rolled his eyes, “And you wonder
why you haven’t got a girl.” He slapped Jack’s hand away as he got to his feet.
“Don’t place any more bets without telling me first.”
“Aye, aye.” Jack gave a mock salute.
Marrok pushed past Aiden Foster when he
tried to protest for his money and strode right up to the bar. “I’ll have two
pints of your heavenly cider, Miss Peep.”
“What’s the second one for?”
“For you, of course.” Marrok took her
hand and kissed the back.
Beau flushed. She let her hand stay
in his for a moment before disappearing through the door to the kitchen. Marrok
grinned, looking back over to Jack and Julia. Julia stood at the center of the
children. His mother’s scarf was draped over her head and her eyes were
covered.
“Cloaked
in her crimson riding hood,” Jack said as he spun her around, “a girl skipped
carefree through the wood. And when she saw me standing near—” Jack jumped out
of the way as Julia ripped the cloth from her eyes.
“She
laughed and shot me in the rear.” The other children chimed in. Julia, wobbling
slightly on her feet, jumped the boy nearest her, tackling him to the ground.
“Not
fair!” Tom Avery protested as he squirmed under Julia’s hold. “I never last to
the end.” He was forced to the corner as the circle reformed without him and rhyme
began again.
“Marrok?”
He turned around. Beau held out a
tankard of fresh cider.
“A single copper for the two
ciders.” She said, leaning across the counter.
“Can I pay in kind?”
“With what?”
Marrok checked to ensure her father
wasn’t watching before he leaned in and kissed her. His hand moved up to the
back of her neck and she smiled against his lips.
“Now that’s how you kiss a girl.” One of the nearby men jeered to
another.
“Shut up, Angus.”
Marrok laughed and pulled away with
a wink. “Daniel’s got more kids than you do, Angus” he kept his eyes on Beau as
he spoke, “I’m sure he’s doing something right.”
The ensuing brag war between the two
men took the focus off of him and Beau.
“That was enough for one,” she said,
“but not both.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh as he
fished a half-copper from the pouch at his waist. Marrok took a deep drink from
the nutmeg infused cider.
“Sweet as always, Miss Peep.”
She looked pleased. “It’s all thanks
to the apples.”
“Indeed. I wonder where such
delicious apples came from. Surely, a very great and handsome man must’ve
hand-picked and inspected each and every one.”
“I hear he’s quite average,
actually.” Beau sipped her drink. “Homely, even, with hair like a girl. Hardly
ever leaves his uncle’s farm.”
Marrok wasn’t quite sure if he
should scowl or pout. His face must’ve been trapped halfway between the two
because she laughed.
“You always bring us the best
apples.” She kissed his cheek and his mood lightened. A door opened at the
front of the tavern, over Marrok’s left shoulder.
“I was thinking that tonight, we
could…” Marrok trailed off when Beau’s posture stiffened. All of the chattering
quieted to a simmer. Mothers gathered up the children from their game and from
the corner of his eye, Marrok saw Jack ushering Julia into a darker corner.
Marrok kept his back to the new
guests, hands wrapped tight enough around the tankard, he thought it might
break.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Mr. Peep
said as he appraoched the newest guests. “Did you come here for a drink?”





(the first 1,000 words of Marrok's first chapter :) Long live the King!)

Monday, July 30, 2012

Crimson Order

Cloaked in her favorite riding hood
A girl skipped carefree through the wood
Coming with bright crimson flash
Trailed behind her paths of ash
And when she saw me standing near
She laughed and shot me in the rear
-- (upcoming) Fractured Chronicles, chapter 1
So, what do you think? ;)

Long legends or short poems?

I'm ready Patrick Rothfuss' "The Name of the Wind" and I've noticed that he likes his backstories. A lot. He, and many other fantasy writers, enjoy exploring the history of the world they've created while other summarize or sneak it in through dialogue.
Rich surroundings is what lends fantasy life. But at the same time, too much information overwhelms the reader and can even make them put the book down. So what's your opinion on the matter? Is a bit of length alright if it proves a point and supplies detail or would rather have it all thrown out (or at least shortened).

Friday, June 15, 2012

Fractured Fairytale Part 1 (redone)

CASSANDRA

             Cassandra walked through the barren throne room. Her footsteps echoed against the stone walls as she approached the King’s seat; a grand chair carved from a single piece of white marble. The room shifted out of focus as the vision changed. Faceless guards filed in from the doors and another throne carved from ebony and lined with pale wolf fur appeared besides the King’s. Everything grew still. Cassandra weaved her way through the chain-mailed men. Only a raised pedestal separated her from the throne. 

            She turned back to look at them all and the room shifted back into sharp focus. Maliel rose up through the cracks of the stone like mercury, three swords strapped to his hips. Grey streaked through his black hair and his hunching shoulder betrayed his age. He took his place in the marble chair. Cassandra’s vision grew hazy for a moment as a woman entered the dream. Snow joined her father. Her blood red lips were split in a smile as she sat beside the King. She leaned in. Her wordless whispers filled the hall with noise.

            Even as Cassandra watched, Maliel greyed, his green eyes fading. Cassandra stumbled as the floor jumbled beneath her feet. Metal grew out of the armed men, encasing them into soldiers. Warriors carved from rocks out of the shattered cliffs lined the decorated walls. Maliel unsheathed two of his swords. Tapestries that bore the black wolf sigil of the king burst into flames. An angry snarling drowned out Snow’s whispers and for the first time, the princess looked up.

            At the opposite end of the hall, a shadowy wolf with piercing gold eyes prowled through the smoke of the burning fabric. The fire spread, licking its way up to the oaken beams of the roof. The King gave a sharp command and his soldiers rushed towards the creature. Flame engulfed the group, forcing Cassandra to look away from the brightness. When the fire began to die down, the wolf re-emerged. The tips of its fur smoldered as it stalked the King. More soldiers attacked but the fires claimed them all.

            The wolf stopped in front of the King, dropping down to his hind quarters as he waited. Cassandra moved to stand beside the animal as the rest of the hall burned to cinders. Maliel’s face continued to grow more gaunt until only his skeleton remained. Snow took the crown from her father’s head. The creature leapt up the pedestal but before he could reach the princess, she vanished, crown still in hand.

            Cassandra looked around at the hall. Stones cracked and walls crumbled. Tapestries turned to ash and the timbers supporting the roof gave way, falling down in massive chunks around her and the wolf. He shoved the skeleton Maliel out of the throne, climbing into the vacant seat to claim his prize. The crimson flames that tore through the throne room gave his fur a demonic glow.  Its gold eyes turned on her.



            Cassandra jolted out of the dream. The chains linking her to the wall rattled as she crawled over to her mirror. Her reflection blurred away as the vision replayed. She smiled when Maliel and Snow fell to the wolf.

“Long live the King.”





(this is my second draft of the story, it's going to be much better XD)

Monday, May 14, 2012

Quarantine Chapter 2

Chapter 2


            Nira scrubbed the metallic floor until she could see her smudged face reflected in the surface.  Soft vibrations traveled up her fingers. She looked up to see six grey Guards clad stomping their way across the floor she’d just cleaned. They were larger than average and at least twice Nira’s size. Clean shaven and cropped hair, they each carried a thick metal club strapped to their hips. Frustration clawed its way up her throat as they dirtied the gleaming floor. She took a deep breath and looked back down at her mirrored face, trying to keep her temper in check. Flecks of mud splattered across her reflection when they marched past. The last set of muddied boots stopped just beside her fingertips.

            “I think you missed a few spots, Dispo.” A boot nudged her in the side.

            Nira only lowered her head, knuckles turning white as she gripped her brush tighter.

            “Did you hear me?”

            He nudged her again, harder this time. She kept silent. The third blow was a full on kick. She sucked in air against the pain that erupted between her fourth and fifth ribs. The man jerked her up to face him. She held the brush like a sword.

            “Of course, sir,” Nira said, anger bubbling over at his laughing face, “Let me get that for you.” She smacked the brush against his right cheek, scrubbing it as though it were a stubborn stain. “You’re right. That looks much better, sir.”

            His companions laughed as grey water dripped off his cleft chin.

            “You think this is funny?” He snapped on them and the laughter cut short. The Guard reached out and yanked back on Nira’s ponytail. She bit her lip, refusing to show any weakness in front of them. He threw her up against the wall, pinning one of her shoulders in place. Her brush clattered to the floor.

            “Just let it go, Erin.” One of other Guards said. He was young, in his upper teens.

            “Not today,” Eric said. He pressed Nira up tighter. “Apologize.”

            Nira kept her lips sealed shut. Her mouth went dry as he slipped the bludgeon from his hip and pressed the rounded tip up against her cheek.

            “I have no problems with hitting a woman”

            The young Guard tried to intervene again, “We’re already late. She’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” He looked around at his comrades but they ignored him. Eric shoved him back.

            Nira tried to form the words but they lodged in her throat. “I’m…” her voice trailed off. Sorry? Of course she wasn’t sorry. She would’ve dumped the entire bucket onto his face if it had been within reach.

            “You’re what?” Soft taps with the bludgeon end.

            “I regret nothing.” She tried to straighten her back but the pain in her side limited to a half hunched stance.

            His arm drew back. Nira clenched her eyes and turned her face away.

            “Stop!” The command came from the other end of the hall. Footsteps echoed off the metal floor. Eric’s grip slackened and Nira fell to her feet. Her legs, unprepared to bear her weight, wobbled before collapsing under her.  She looked up at the approaching man and smiled. Derek. “I didn’t realize that hitting women was part of your duties.”

            Shorter than any of the Guards and barely over twenty, Derek’s white suit made the other men back away with lowered heads. Eric was the only one to stand his ground, his brown eyes wide. Derek’s slender fingers closed around his wrist.

            “But she—“

            She was doing her job before you interrupted her.” Derek said, “Don’t you have a job of your own to get to?” He let go and positioned himself between Nira and the weapon. “Go on.”

            Eric’s grip tightened around the handle. Nira wondered if the man would really dare attack an Asset. The younger Guard tugged at the man’s arm until he relented. “Yes, sir.” Eric muttered as he was pushed by his friends from the hall.

            Derek turned, taking Nira’s hand. “Didn’t think I’d cut it so close.” He helped her back to her feet and Nira pressed her hand against her aching side. “Is it bad?”

            She moved from side to side, testing it out. “I’ve had worse.” There’d be an enormous bruise tomorrow but her ribs were intact. “You really liked playing the hero, didn’t you?”

            Derek puffed out his chest in a mock pose, “Don’t I look the part?”

            Nira kept one around wrapped around her side. “Hmmm,” she tapped her chin in a speculative manner, “No. You’re too short.”

            His entire body sagged.

            Nira laughed and reclaimed her brush, tossing it into the grey-water bucket. He smiled and laughed but he kept glancing over his shoulder and his left hand remained tucked away in one of his pockets as though he were holding something.

            “Your message said you had something for me?”

            “Yes!” Derek’s shoulders relaxed. He lifted up the flap of his overcoat and pulled out a small wrapped package. He held it out “A snack.”

            Nira turned Derek’s gift over in her hands. The thin plastic crinkled under her fingers as she traced the faded images on the front. The red letters were too scratched up and worn for her to read but a strange alien creature wearing a wide-brimmed hat made her question the contents.  The two yellow blobs inside leaked white and her stomach clenched at the idea of ingesting such a thing. “Are you sure that this is supposed to be food?”

            “Try it,” Derek said, “you’ll like it.”

            She hesitated.

            “Go on.”

            Not one to waste food, even if it was at the high end on the questionable scale, Nira tugged at the plastic ends. The package opened with a soft pop and an overwhelming smell of sweetness coated the insides of her nose. It tickled down her throat and made her cough. She’d never seen Derek grin so wide before. Despite her better judgment, her mouth began to water and curiosity tempted her fingers into the little bag. The yellow log compressed between her fingers and more whiteness beaded up on the bottom. Its texture reminded her of the sponges she often used, only dry and squishy. Nira looked back up at him.

            Derek stood there, all patience and smiles.

            With a sigh, she bit down. The whiteness melted across her tongue and sent sparks up her spine. The spongey yellow turned to sweet mush before dissolving along with the cream.

            “Well?” asked Derek. He moved closer, looking anxious for her approval. 

            “It’s very strong.” Nira said. The tips of her fingers began to tingle and there was a slight buzz in the front of her head, “Where did you get it?”

            “Parson had a few of them lying around. He called it a ‘Twinkie’. People used to eat it all the time.”

            Nira found it hard to believe but nodded anyways. Sticking the rest of the cake back into its covering, she tucked the cakes away in her water canteen along with Avin’s meat. “Thank you, Derek.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. A bit of the white filling must’ve been on her lips because it smudged across his cheek, making her smile. “And thank you, for the rescue.”

            “I had to do something. You would’ve beaten him into a pulp if I hadn’t stepped in.” Derek’s hand came up to her cheek. He used his thumb to wipe off a smudge. “I wish you would be more careful. You give the Guards too many excuses to hurt you.”

“But it’s so much fun to watch them turn red.”  Nira chuckled. Her ribs protested against the movement with a ripple of pain. “Then again, maybe you have a point.” Her smile faded when he looked down to the hallway end again. “What is it?”

“I found something that I don’t think I was supposed to see.”

“What?”

Derek opened his mouth. He paused and shook his head. “I’ll tell you later when I’m sure I’m right.” The echo of a soft thunk made his head jerk up. She could see the pulse in his neck quicken. “Can you keep something secret for me?”

            “Of course.” 

            He pulled the left hand out of his pocket. Balled up, he unclenched his fist one finger at a time. Inside his palm rested a thin strip of metal the length of her finger with an ornate number 4 etched into the bottom half.

            “You?!” Nira closed his hand back around it. “Why would you take it?

            “It was only on accident at first.” Derek said, “Yesterday, I took my father’s coat by mistake and the key I was inside. In the main observation room where Doctor Parson works, there are slots where the key might fit. I just wanted to see what it would do.” He grabbed her hand and forced her to take the key. “If I keep it, my father would find it eventually. Please.” He stopped and took a step back when a pair of old men in black shuffled by. The Dispos didn’t give Nira or Derek a second glance. Nira could see small beads of sweat forming on Derek’s forehead. When the old men turned the corner, Derek continued, “You can bring it back to me later tonight. Just keep it safe for me for a little while. Please?”

            Nira stared down at her clenched fist. The metal inside felt hot against her skin. “I only have to keep it till tonight?”

            “Yes.”

            “And you’ll tell me what you found that’s making you so nervous?”

            He nodded.

            “Fine.” She said. Reaching into her dirty water, she shook out the brush and wedged the piece of metal between the thick bristles. No one would go searching in there. “After I bring Avin his dinner, I’ll come by and bring this back.”

            “I’ll be there.” Derek took her hand again, “I owe for this.”  He leaned in to kiss her when someone cleared their throat. At the end of the hall, a near copy of Derek stood in white with his hands behind his back. Only the faint traces of wrinkles around his eyes and the splash of silver on the side of his trimmed black hair revealed his age.

            “Asset Wrin.” Nira dropped to her knees before the man as he approached. She had never seen Derek’s father before but it made her wonder if Derek inherited his kind nature from his mother.

            “Don’t presume to address me directly.” His voice was ice. The sharp sound of a slap made her wince. Derek said nothing against the punishment. “Another Dispo whore that you’ve decided to take pity on?”

            Nira watched them from the safety of her bangs. Derek’s father yanked him by the collar and marched him out of the passageway. She looked back at her bucket of cleaning water. She could keep something safe for a few hours, couldn’t she?


---------------

Sorry I've stopped doing the short 15 minute prompts. I've been working on my stories instead and I'm actually really excited on all the changes that I've made.
Thanks for reading :)

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

One word prompt: Scales

Went on to a word generator and the word of the day is: scales.
Tying it in a little with my dragon urban fantasy I got planned ;D
Ten minutes.
Go!


Alex clenched her fists against the pain as the the marks on her back spread onto the rest of her skin. The room filled with the smell of burning flesh and sweat dripped to the floor. Breaking the host body into the transformation was always the hardest part.
Her body trembled as the skin shriveled into dust, red scales growing to cover the exposed muscle and sinew. She could feel her body growing larger, her neck extending out. She shifted onto all fours, tail jutting out the back. Her fingernails grew long and curved until they dug into the wooden floors that creaked beneath her weight. The host's mind remained as silent as it was the first day Alex had taken over.
Stalking over to the mirror, she squatted down, carefully looking herself over. The face was the last to change. Even as she watched, the brown hair burned away and the round human pupils elongated to slits. Her scales reflected back the florescent light overhead, giving her a kind of glow.
Alex turned to the man with round eyes. "Is this what you wanted to see?"



(blaaaaghghgahgsuiegh. Sorry I haven't posted anything in the last few days, life's been busy :)  )
Thanks for reading! And as always, if you have a prompt to share, leave a comment about it ^__^

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Sherlock... again

I haven't posted in a couple days and this is because I was working on a music video idea. Here it is!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmTZF9C1-qU&feature=youtu.be

Never really made anything like that before so I was super proud just to have finished it in the first place.
And because this is a writing blog, I think I might have found another piece to the Reichenbach puzzle. Moffat keeps saying that people are missing a clue. Well, while editing my video (admittedly frame-by-frame) I noticed something strange about Sherlock's ear. The picture's not the best but if you look close, it appears to be some sort of pull away skin suggesting that this is either a masked cadaver or perhaps a dummy alltogether. Or.... maybe I'm just reading into clever misleads that the genius Moffat planted. Either way, what's your theory on how Sherlock survived?


Look at his ear!

Sunday, April 22, 2012

4/22 - How Sherlock Surived the Reichenbach Fall (with Doctor Who)

I know I did one of these a long time ago but I love these two storylines too darn much to leave them alone! And so, how Sherlock survived his fall.

----
The Doctor scowled as he tossed a towel over to the dark-haired man. "First River, now you! I'm not going to be catch all of you every time you decide to jump off a building."
"Have you prepared the Teselecta?" Sherlock asked as he pulled himeslf out of the library swimming pool.
"They want to scan you again to make sure they've got the angles of your face right."
"And you're sure no one watching will be able to tell?"
"If they so much as blink, they'll miss it." He smiled as though enjoying a private joke and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
Tossing his soaked coat aside, the consulting detective approached the near copy of himself. "Captain Carter," he looked the robot in the eye where he assumed the man sat, "Once you're inside, a woman named Molly Hooper pull you aside. She knows what's going on. Are you ready?"
Inside the Teselecta, Carter nodded. "We've got some blood pre-loaded into the right side of the skull to burst open on impact. Your Miss Hooper will need to make sure it matches your records."
The Doctor stepped in between the two Sherlocks waving his hand impatiently, "Yes, yes, let's get this over with. You," he pointed to the Sherlock on his right, "Strap yourself in!" Rubbing his hands together in a maniacal manner, the Doctor rushed to the main console as the Teselecta-Sherlock positioned itself in front of the TARDIS doors.
"Come on, Sexy!" He yelled as the TARDIS turned itself over in mid-air till the doors pointed down. "I'm about to turn off the gravity."
The Teselecta braced itself against the doorframe and Sherlock buckled into one of the seats. "Do it!"
The Doctor flipped a set of switches and the lights inside the TARDIS burned red. The doors slid open of their own accord and the Teselecta dangled out above the street.
"I'll be seeing you, Doctor" Captain Carter said before the crew of the justice vehicle plummeted to the sidewalk below.
Sherlock felt a strange curiosity as he saw his own head smash against the pavement. The drop was too short to cause any real damage to the machine but as he watched he could see the robot's head shifting to mimic the injury. Her stomach twisted as he saw John stagger over. "Shut the doors." He turned away.
The Doctor gave the dark-haired man a sympathetic smile before transporting to the rooftop above. "Are you alright?"
"Fine." With the gravity restored, Sherlock freed himself from the restraints.
"When will you tell him?"
"When I'm sure it's safe." Sherlock said, face straight and stubbornly free of emotion "You're one to talk. You didn't tell your friends you were alive either."
The Doctor shrugged in his tweed. His favorite defensive gesture. "I knew River would do it for me." The Time Lord frowned when Sherlock reclaimed the phone he'd tossed aside earlier.
"Didn't want to get it wet." Sherlock explained as he walked over to Moriarty's body. He looked back at the Doctor and saw him frown, "Oh, perhaps I should mention, I'm not the one who shot him."
"Didn't say you were." The Doctor joined his side, "What are you going to do?"
"My coffin will need a body and I can't let his friends know he's dead yet." Sherlock ruffled through the consulting criminal's clothes until he found the man's phone. "I have to make sure that no one will ever threaten John or the others again."

------

Yep, Imma leave it there :)

Saturday, April 21, 2012

4/21 Twilight crossed with the Hunger Games?

I've seen a meme recently that said, "What if we took all the characters from Twilight and put them in the Hunger Games?" Well.... THAT SOUNDS LIKE AN AWESOME IDEA TO ME! :D
Since this is one of my mini writing excersizes, I won't do a full cast swap. Just seeing how long Bella would last..... >:3



Bella pressed her sweating palms up against the thick glass. Edward would come. Alice would've seen what these people were about to put her through. She'd tell Edward and he would save her. He always saved her.

Bella jumped when the platform began to rise. A sprawling grass field stretched out with the cornucopia sitting squarely in the middle of it all, a temptation for early departure. Bella shivered as she looked around at the other twenty three tributes. Several of them were looking her way. She wrapped her arms around herself in shivered. Somewhere above it all, a deep voice started to count down.

Ten... Nine...

"Edward!"

The others snickered. Bella sunk down so that she sat in place. Knees tucked up underneath her chin, she wrapped her arms around her legs. He'd find her. No matter how hard the Capitol tried to keep them apart, he'd find a way to get to her.

Eight... Seven...

"Bella."

Her head whipped around at the sound of her name. Just out of arm's reach, Edward stood in the middle of the field. Bella's smile faded when she saw straight through him to the trees beyond. Another one of those pesky visions.

Six... Five...

"Bella, get to your feet."

She obeyed.

"When the countdown finishes, run as fast as you can towards the trees."

Four... Three...

 "I'm scared, Edward." Bella said. She shuffled to the edge of the platform. Leaning over to get closer, her right foot slipped out from under her and she tumbled forward.

Claudius shook his head when the cannon sounded. "I don't think we've had a Tribute get off early since the sixty-eighth Hunger Games."

"Can't say I'm surprised." Caesar said, "You could tell the pressure was getting to her and she had the lowest ranking out of all the Tributes."


(I tried my best to write Bella seriously but I don't think it worked out....
It wasn't as good as I hoped but oh well XD)

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Quarantine Chapter 1

Remember how I said I wasn't going to post sections of my story on here? HAHAHAHA!!! Let's be honest, no one's really reading this anyways. And I've been working on this all day and don't really want to do a little prompt. WoohoOoOOoOOOoo! I've submitted the Prologue already so if you didn't check it out yet, DO IT! It is super intense and awesome!



Chapter 1



            The loud screech of the morning alarm barely made Nira stir. Grumbling, she flipped over on her thin mattress, stuffing the off-white pillow into her ears to try and block out the noise. It didn’t work.

“Are you going to sleep all day?”

Nira’s head lulled up from the safety of her dreams to look at the small screen beside the door. Green eyes set in a grey disapproving face stared back at her. His middle aged scowl always accompanied the wakeup call these days.

“Good morning to you too, Avin.” Nira rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes, “Did you sleep well?”

He ignored the question. “Ever since you got close to that boy, you’ve let yourself slip in your work. If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up getting caught.”

Nira nodded as though she were hanging on every syllable, but in reality his words became nothing more than a jumble of sound as he prattled on about the consequences of mixing classes. She walked over to the chipped mirror beside the monitor. The smudges on her cheeks remained defiant, surviving a harsh hand scrubbing.   

            “Yes, Avin.” She pulled her brown hair back into a tight ponytail, “Anything you say.”

            An unappreciative grunt was the only response to her sarcasm.

Nira chuckled, walking over to the screen. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you your breakfast right away. Same as usual, right?” Without waiting for a response, she switched the monitor off. Aching muscles stretched as she pulled out her black jumpsuit. Soft lavender bruises just beginning to turn yellow dotted her arms and legs. Pacing around the cramped living quarters in tight circles to get her blood flowing, she flipped several yellow switches above the pull-out toilet.

A crackling sound fizzed through the room before a young man’s voice bled through, “Good morning, citizen. This is day—” the voice turned mechanically female “—Three eight seven nine two—” the man’s voice returned “—of Quarantine. Sectors one and two are having difficulties with their water recycling so all the Dispo water rations will be cut in half until their stations can be returned to working capacity.”

Nira felt her stomach curl in on itself as though it were taking a preemptive strike against starvation. She went to switch off the depressing broadcast but Doctor Parson hadn’t quite finished.

“I am dismayed to announce that an Asset in sector four—” Nira glanced to the faded black four over her own doorframe “—has misplaced his key. I would advise anyone who has seen it to quickly inform the nearest Guard. I cannot fully express my dismay over this unfortunate loss. The keys have always stood as a symbol for what can be grown out of nothing but hard work. Until tomorrow, may God have mercy on our souls.” 

The transmission fizzled out to a monotonous drone and Nira switched it off before it could gnaw into her allotted patience for the day. Parson’s message was thinly veiled. An Asset losing a key was like her misplacing her own arms after work. The white-dressed uppities guarded those keys with their pride. Whoever was stupid enough to steal it wouldn’t be able to hide for long.

Nira rubbed the back of her neck as she checked through her messages. She ignored the text about the water rationing, going straight for the private messages: two from her advisor, Carolynn, one from Mac, which she promptly deleted, and one from Derek, the only decent Asset in the entire compound. She smiled at Derek’s name, opening the video file.

Derek’s young, pale pixilated face grinned at her wide enough to make the skin around his blue eyes crinkle. “Sorry I’ve been away so long. I—” Something clanked in the background and his head spun around. His body grew tense as he turned back to the screen. He tugged at his white collar. “I didn’t mean to be. I have something for you.” His smile returned but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve reserved a spot for you in the hall outside the plant fields. I’ll meet you there later today.”

            He reached towards the screen and the image switched off. She checked the data again and saw that the message recorded only a few moments before. She’d barely missed him. Tugging her black jumpsuit into a more comfortable layout on her body, she stuck her left hand into a slot beside the door. A lever clamped it down into place and she could hear the faint buzzing of a scanner.

“Disposable number two six eight eight nine three,” said the same mechanical female voice from the announcement, “your work time quota has been raised from fourteen to sixteen hours. Have a healthy day.”

The machine inside unclamped her hand. The faded brown door gave a soft hiss before swinging wide enough for her to squeeze through. Nira joined the shuffling of the other black-clad Dispos as they trudged through cement corridors towards the serving hall. Their barely concealed scowls and tears, and their drooping shoulders said they’d all had their shifts increased, or maybe it was the lowering of the water rations. She licked her lips at the thought.

“Nira!” A young man shouted somewhere behind her. Mac.

Her insides twisted and she tried to slip through the mass of bodies before the owner of the voice could catch up with her. Why couldn’t he just ever leave her alone?

“Nira, wait for me.”

She was almost to the entrance of the serving hall when a hand clamped around her upper arm. She tried to shrivel away from the touch but the panting teen kept her in place.

“Didn’t you hear me calling for you?” he asked. His flaming red hair and bright blue eyes made him look deceptively innocent. If it wasn’t for the intense body order that accompanied him, he would’ve been quite nice to look at. “You know that I always wait for you in the mornings.”

“I’m busy, Mac.” Nira said, “What do you want?”

His freckled smile drooped but she refused to acknowledge the twinge of guilt. She’d learned not to show weakness in front of him. His grip tightened on her shoulder. She couldn’t hold back the wince when she felt his fingertips digging into her arm.  

“Sorry,” Mac said, letting her go. His smile returned, “See you again soon.”

Nira shuddered, glancing through the mass of grey and black bodies against the dull brown walls. Though the white Assets rarely mingled with the Guards and Dispos, Derek’s message replayed in the back of her mind. He’d looked, almost, scared. With a sigh, she pushed her way through the clamoring crowd up to the counter. She set her left hand in another scanner. Even with the vents that kept the air circulating, the amount of bodies in the tiny space made her start to sweat.

The female dressed in black behind the counter didn’t even look in Nira’s direction. She was tall and blonde, perhaps nineteen. Nira’s nose curled when the older woman pulled out a plate of odd, lumpy green-beige sludge. It looked like all the scraps over the past week had become sentient and formed together to do battle with her stomach lining.

“The water?”

The blonde set down a small canteen that sloshed when it moved.

“Where’s the rest?”

“That’s it. Take it and go.”

The machine let go of Nira’s hand but she kept it in place, refusing to leave. With her free hand, she reached over the counter, grabbing the other woman. Though Nira was shorter, she leverage her weight to pull the blonde over. “What about the food for my Monitor?”

“What?” Blondie blinked.

“Monitor Avin. I’ve been assigned to him for three years now.” Nira’s voice began to turn into a snarl and shoved the older Dispo back, “Or did you not check your scan properly?”

The machine re-clamped her hand and Nira watched the Dispo’s eyes scanning through a screen on the other side of the wall. “I-I didn’t notice.” She cleared her throat, disappearing for a moment before coming back out with a tray. In place of the bubbling goop that Nira received, genuine bread, freshly picked vegetables, and a slim strip of meat sat there in the open. The other Dispo let it sit in front of Nira for a moment, mouthwatering smells wafting up.

 “Guess you better hurry,” blondie said, almost slamming a tray on top of the food, cutting off the pleasant scent. “Go on then.”

Nira scowled at the woman’s triumphant look. Shoveling down her own greased up goop and rationed water, she took the tray before her will could break to not eat it herself. Nira could feel several sets of eyes following the plate in her hands as she walked to the door. She weaved in between the Guards, knowing that no one would dare to steal the food while being watched. It wasn’t worth the punishment.

By now, most of the Dispos were already at work. She passed a few in the halls, scrubbing away until the metal floors were spotless. She knew it was futile. They all knew in a few hours, the floors would be washed again, and again. But she kept on walking up grated stairs, through enclosed hallways. The whole system stretched out like a maze until she came to the main elevators. Again, her left hand was clamped in place as the chip inside was scanned. The red light overhead flashed green and the steel door slid open in silence. The moment she stepped back in, the doors closed in on her, sealing her in. Off to the right, she pushed the button labeled B23.

Alone at last. Nira lifted the tray and inhaled. Her stomach gurgled in savory anticipation. She could nearly taste the food on the tip of her tongue if she tried hard enough. She let the smell fill her, eyes rolling pleasantly into the back of her head. She knew better than to be jealous about the food, however good it looked. The price Avid paid for it simply wasn’t worth it.

Too soon, the doors opened. More Dispos scrubbed the floors and walls as she passed through another set of halls. Greying door after door passed by, small numbers carved into the door frames. Her pace slowed as she glanced between the digits. Even after serving Avin for four years, she could still get lost if she didn’t pay enough attention.

217682. Nira’s hand came up to knock the door but it swung open before she could even touch the metal.

“I hate it when you do that.”

Avin chuckled, clearing the doorway for her to walk inside. “It’s the only fun that I get to have.”

“You must’ve done something right.” Nira said, setting the tray down beside his keyboard. “They even included some meat with your meal.”

He scoffed as he sat down in front of his wall of screens. White, grey and black dots drifted around dark blue schematic lines. A number floated alongside each dot. In the lower right corner, around a dozen red dots glowed together. Avin had never told her what they were for.

“Would you like to win it from me?”

“Win it?” Nira’s stomach grumbled when she looked pale pink sitting on the tray so innocently.

Avin chuckled. “I’ll make you a deal. You get half if you answer something for it.”

“That’s it?” Her suspicions rose. Avin had a generous nature often shared his water rations but meat was precious.  

“That’s it,” he said. “No tricks, I promise. But you have to answer it honestly.” He took the strip of meat, bacon, she guessed, and dangled it in front of her. “Limited time offer.”

Her stomach growled. “I’m listening.”

Avin set the meat back down. The humor drained from his eyes. “This morning, the announcement about the key: did you have anything to do with it?”

“No.”

His stern look made her continue.

“I’m not idiotic enough to get myself mixed up in something like that. I know how ridiculous the Assets get over their little toys.” She opened her right hand, staring down at the faded scar that slashed across the palm. She’d once cut herself on a piece of metal ‘artwork’ at an Asset’s home. For getting blood on it, food privileges were reduced for a whole week. She was ten.  

“You’re right,” Avin said. “I’m sorry.” Silence passed between them. Avin stood, putting his hands on her shoulders. Unlike Mac, his hold on her was gentle and welcome. “I just don’t want to see you get on the wrong side of things.” He ruffled her hair in an affectionate gesture, messing up her ponytail.

Nira laughed and shooed him off. “Either way, it’s not like I could do anything with it. I’ve never even seen a lock for those keys to fit into and no one would be willing to pay for something so useless.”

Seeming satisfied, Avin tore the strip of meat in half, giving her the bigger portion. She ripped off a corner, popping it into her mouth. She let it sit there, the rich flavor spreading across her tongue. She only swallowed once all the flavored was sucked out.

“Save the rest for later,” Avin said when she went to take another piece. He returned to his seat in front of a wall of blue monitors. The dots continued to move like blood flowing through a body. Nira took her empty water canteen, tucking the bacon inside.

“Is there anything you need before lunch?” Nira asked. She stood waiting there for an answer but Avin was already glued to the monitors, eyes darting about. She shrugged it off as she walked back to the door.

“Nira, one more thing.”

She turned back to face him.

“About Derek,” Avin started but she cut him off.

“No more lectures about it, please. He and I—we—there’s nothing going on so you can stop worrying about it. Okay?”

“If there’s nothing going on then why are you with him so often?” He tapped a white dot inching its way across one of the screens. “You should give Mac another chance. He’s healthier for you.”

“If following me everything and being I’ll-kill-you-in-your-sleep creepy is healthy, sure.” She rubbed her arm. It still ached from Mac’s crippling grip.

“He’s just shy.” Avin said, “He doesn’t know how to act around such a pretty girl.”

Nira smiled despite herself. “Flattery won’t get you what you want.”

“It was worth a try.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “You should start your shift soon. You’ll be lucky to get anything half decent this late.”

“I have a spot saved for me.” Nira opened the door, stepping out into the hall. Avin asked who but the metal door slid shut before she could answer.



(You're not the prettiest but I like you just the way you. You don't have to be prettiest to be loved just the way you are. Some people tell you you have to be shiny and new. But I will tell you, you just-- you just have to be you. [Oh!] You're not the prettiest but I like you just the way you. You don't have to be prettiest to be loved just the way you are. Don't you worry about the people who don't understand. You will be happy when you find the right pair of hands. [Oh!] You're not the prettiest but I like you just the way you. You don't have to be prettiest to be loved just the way you are. Just like my guitar) <-- A song I found on YouTube by NicePeter. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjF4aMv_6eY&list=FLRX6ton0ZLoS-2N9s3td__g&index=1&feature=plpp_video You should really check it out because it's beautiful and makes me smile :)
To anyone reading, I love you and have a happy healthy day.

Quaratine prologue draft 2

            Black clothes itch my pock-marked skin as two marines dressed in grey stack me on top of the piled cart. The man beneath me feels cold. No heartbeat. Masked doctors all in white flock about the sterile room, peering onto one another’s clipboards. None of them ever look in my direction. Another limp body is placed on top. My lungs compress under the weight and they gasp. The person above me is boiling. Sweat bleeds through the black fabric. I try to call for help but my lips won’t move to form the words. I want to scream. They have to know I’m not dead. This is all a terrible mistake. A sharp clack sounds somewhere above my head and I pray it’s an order to stop. Doctor Parson’s aged voice is slow, his words deliberate. 

New York, London and Tokyo are repeating near zero populations.

A buzz-cut man with combat boots and military grey looms over me. Most of his face is covered by the same mask the doctors wear. His eyes hold something close to pity and when his gloved hands reach out to me, the light from above gives him a halo.

So far, we have been able to keep ahead of the virus with a marginal number of casualties.

He traces the scar along my left hand before removing the wedding band from my finger. Brushing the hair from my face, he checks my ears before moving on to the bodies below me. Muttered words from the doctors and he retreats to the muted browns of the side wall.

Every precaution is being taken. Everything that can be done is being done.

I struggle as the white ones wheel me over to a latched metal door. Only my shoulders obey. One of the doctors opens the gate and the added heat radiating from the chamber makes my head spin. Help. Please. For pity’s sake, someone help me.

To ensure the best chance of survival, we are placing ourselves under quarantine

The military man returns with a wide broom. He disappears into the chamber for a moment. Mounds of bone fragments and small bits of metal come sweeping out in front of him. I try to scream as the cart wheels towards the oven. The cart jerks forward and we all go toppling in. The weight of them all crushes me.

Let the record state that November 16th, 2018 is quarantine day one.

Moans echo throughout the chamber. How many of us are still alive? A fine layer of the sandpaper ash clogs my throat but my lungs are too weak to cough. Muffled tears on my back. A small hand fists up my shirt. The door swings shut. A soft metallic click is all it takes to plunge us into dark silence. Into hell. We are meant to be here.

            Incineration in three… two… one…

May God have mercy on our souls.


(So proud of this! Wooo! I'm putting this up because it all started with a prompt from my teacher. She told us to try and write in-scene details with a lot of emotion in only two pages. Voila!)

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

4/18 - Sherlock rambling

Sherlock timez! I just adore the BBC Sherlock series and because I want to write something every day, today I'm going to to just write a bit of fan-fic! wooo! Again, start out with ten minutes on the clock, go!


Sherlock watched John walk away from his tombstone. He stepped forward, lips parting to call out to his friend.
"Not yet." A hand wrapped around his arm and he looked back at Molly Hooper. He'd asked for her help to keep him focused. It was a good thing too, he'd never imagined it would be so hard to keep himself hidden away from John and Mrs. Hudson.
"I saw what you posted on your blog," Sherlock said, "thank you. It couldn't have been easy to write that."
She smiled. "I just imagined I was writing about Jim."
"Moriarty."
"R-right." She let go of his arm and took a step back. "We should go."
Sherlock nodded, flipping the collar of his coat up against the chill breeze. He turned and walked away from Molly, mind already working on the problem at hand. His friends wouldn't be safe until the assassins were tracked down a dealt with. Pulling out his new cell phone, he called up an old friend. "Irene, it's time for you to repay your debts."


Yeah... that wasn't very good XD

For Molly Hooper's blog, check it out:
http://www.mollyhooper.co.uk/
A lot of the characters have comments and blogs of their own and I found it quite fun to read through everything :)

Brandon Sanderson

This last semester, I had the extremely good fortune of being able to take Brandon Sanderson's class at my college. During our classtimes, everything was filmed and put on-line. So far, only three of thirteen (maybe only twelve?) of the lectures have been posted but I know that the guy who filmed them is intending to put them all up. They are DEFINITELY worth listening to! Not only is Sanderson brilliant at writing but he also talked about the business side of writing that people rarely delve into.
Another note to any other aspiring authors, Sanderson is also involved in a Podcast called "Writing Excuses" with several other best-selling authors. Check it out! Not only is it really helpful but it's absolutely hilarious to listen to.

Lectures:
http://www.writeaboutdragons.com/home/brandon_w2012/

Writing Excuses:
http://www.writingexcuses.com/


Have an amazing day! :D

4/17 prompt

Found a prompt yesterday that I liked:
Jane Austen's novel, Pride and Prejudice, opens with the line: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."
Start your story about something completely different with a sentence that follows the same format, filling in the blanks with your own ideals: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a _____ in possession of a _____, must be in want of a _____."



It is a truth universally ackowledged, that a pirate in possession of a ship, must be in want of an adventure. Ellana Smith was such a pirate. Following in the steps of her hero, Guybrush Threepwood, Ellana dared to sail off the coasts of the American colonies, preying off merchant ships that dared to cross her path.
At least, that's what she told herself in her dreams.
In truth, young Ellana was a personal maid aboard the Salander, the finest of Lord Fairfax's ships. Ellana's mistress, Lady Fairfax, had given her over to the ship's Captain during the voyage to ease the workload. Instead of the cutluss and pistol she craved, Ellana had a brush and a couldron with potato peelings cooked on the bottom. Trapped in the closet of a room, she stared out of the small port window to the greying skies beyond.
"You haven't finished yet?!"
Ella jumped as the ship's cook bustled in on her daydreams. The man's skin was taughtly stretched across his bulbous frame.
"No, sir." Ellana said, lowering her face. The sharp slap to her back was almost painless.


... and that's it XD
As for the prompt, what would you fill in the blanks with?



Other random ideas:

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a college student in possession of a college loan, must be in want of a job.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a blue dog in possession of a law degree, must be in want of a client.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a child in possession of a dream, must be in want of nothing.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that any average intelligence individual in possession of a televison, must be in want of something half decent to watch on Saturday nights.

Have fun!