At the Piano Bar

Max twirled his glass in a gloved hand. He didn't know what he had expected, to be honest, but he shouldn't have been disappointed. It was stupid. Of course the pianist wouldn't know it. When the floor was opened for requests, most would ask for a ballad, a jazzy tune, or maybe even a classic love song. Something to color the mood while couples looked at each other over their glass. Most wouldn't ask for the theme song of Lester's Possum Farm.

He didn't know if such a song could even be translated for the piano. It was too folksy, from what he remembered. A lot of banjo, maybe a harmonica. It was a little fuzzy. Unfortunately the awkward exchange with the pianist was still all too clear.

Gulping down the last of his drink, Max signaled the bartender. A fresh glass slid over to him and was promptly ingested in one fluid motion. Grimacing, Max asked for another. If the bartender judged him he didn't show it, simply reached for the bottle again.

It had come all at once, the memories of that summer years ago; when his father had stolen him away for a father-son fishing trip. Max had made the first half of that trip a nightmare for his dad. Well, no, that wasn't quite true. While Max had behaved like a brat the whole way, Goofy had spent the beginning of the trip excited as ever. And even when Goofy realized how miserable Max was after the possum fiasco, he never stopped trying to turn it around and bond with his son.

That's right...

That's all Goofy had wanted: To bond with his son.

And Max had fought him at every turn all because of a stupid, juvenile crush that wouldn't even survive his next year in high school. What was her name again? Anne-something? He scoffed. He couldn't even remember her name.

But he did remember the way his father pronounced "sassafras" -- "sassyfras" -- as he hung upside-down with possums. And the sound of his yodeling as he happily clapped along to the theme song...
Max's hand gripped the refilled glass and cleared his throat to mask the sniffle that slipped. That summer had ended well for them both, thankfully. The PowerLine concert still held the spot for his favorite memory with his dad. But they never did make it to Lake Destiny...

He didn't know why he was so focused on that detail. Their relationship had improved leaps and bounds over the years (despite the hiccup when they went to college together) as Max learned how to focus less on the sometimes embarrassing antics his father would perform and more on the compassionate motivation underneath. For his part, Goofy learned how to give Max the appropriate amount of space (and when, that was important) and how to be affectionate without being smothering.

Max coughed to cover another sniffle. That wasn't fair. Sylvia never found Goofy smothering, in fact she relished in his affections and behavior. But of course she did, Max thought with a chuckle. She's as goofy as he is.

Was.

His hand clenched the glass again, his throat suddenly sandpaper. A familiar sensation burned at the backs of his eyes. Throwing his head back, he gulped down his drink, but the liquor did nothing to push down what was coming. The thought echoed in his mind louder and louder and Max shut his eyes tight in attempt to will the memory away before it could replay the events from last week. It was no use though. As much as he drank, he couldn't drink enough to forget.

Forget the carnival.

Forget the look on Sylvia's face when she came back from the snack stand, the tray of caramel apples falling from her hands.

Forget the way she sobbed and rocked him, trying to soothe the screams he hadn't realized were coming from him.

Forget the sight of his father's body lying so still on the ground--

Something shattered against the shelves across from him. 

"'EY!" someone roared from his right. It was only as the bartender stomped over that Max noticed his now empty hand in the air and put the pieces together. "That's going on your tab, buddy," the bartender growled. "Now settle up and get out!"

A delicate hand rests on his shoulder before Max could speak. "I'll take care of that." The voice was as soft as the touch, with notes of exhaustion trickling beneath the affection.

Max turned towards the sound, his hazy mind knowing he should recognize it, but not quite making the connection until he saw Sylvia's face. Immediately he wished he hadn't. Her normally sparkling eyes were hollow and cloudy, the dark rings underneath still noticeable despite the dim lighting, and her nose was scarlet and rubbed bare at the sides. She was still in her black dress suit from that morning, but had undone her bun so her hair rested on her shoulders. The once-shiny red locks had dulled over the years and now bore the musky color of oxidized metal. The same color as the rust on the safety harnesses on the ride that--

An image flashed in his mind and Max tore his gaze away, grinding his teeth to push back the sound that threatened to escape him. Whether it was a cry or a growl, he wasn't sure.

The bartender looked at Sylvia's face, then to their matching black attire, and sighed. The animosity was gone from his voice as he recited the total to Sylvia and she reached for her purse.

Max knew he shouldn't allow her to do this. Shouldn't accept any monetary gesture. Not now. Especially not now. But when she pulled her left hand from his shoulder all sense of propriety left him as his eyes caught the glint of her wedding rings beside her mood ring.

Goofy had once told Max about his first date with Sylvia and how their mood rings had shone with a brilliant light when their hands touched.

"Maxxy, right then, I just knew..."

The tears flowed freely then. Max stared with unseeing eyes as Sylvia placed her wallet back into her purse, the transaction completed. His focus was brought back with a start when he felt fingers wiping the tears from his cheeks. His eyes met Sylvia's. A sad frown marred her features.

"Oh, Max," she sighed, and he felt more than heard the sorrow in her voice. She reached into her purse again and pulled out a travel-sized tissue packet. There was only one left and he was crying pretty profusely, but she tried to clean him up all the same. "Come on, let's get you home."

He didn't know whose home she meant, but stood anyway. He couldn't deny her anything -- not anymore. Keeping her hands on his arm to steady him, Sylvia gently led Max towards the exit and out of the piano bar. For a time the only sounds between them were the clicks of her heels as they headed for the parking lot.

"He was always okay." Max's voice is raw with suppressed emotion and hours of drinking, and seems to catch her by surprise. He hadn't planned to say anything, but now he had to explain. "He was always getting thrown by things or crashing into stuff, but he... he was always okay... after..." His lip quivered and he shut his eyes tight, but more tears still slip down. Sylvia's hand immediately goes to his hair.

"I know, Max. I know..." She continues to stroke his hair soothingly as he presses his mouth into a firm line. "Goofy--" Her voice breaks and there's the sound of a breath before she continues. "Sometimes things happen that we just can't explain."

It's said with a surprising lack of bitterness, Max thought, because no one could explain how a popular ride had gone without routine check-ups for so long. How a man who had never had more than a sprained ankle, despite being prone to extreme stunts, had met his end on a children's ride while others walked away shaken, but otherwise unscathed. It was becoming quite the controversy, actually, with several news channels discussing the carnival's public endangerment. But the more they discussed it, the less interested Max became in the company's answers. Nothing they said excused their negligence. And nothing the public learned would change what happened, would retrieve what he lost...

A quiet beep pulled him back to his surroundings as Sylvia's green beetle blinked its lights. With her left arm still linked through his, Sylvia opened the passenger door with her right and helped him climb inside. Max tried not to look at her rings.

The inside of the car was clean, as usual, save for the small plastic bag on the floor by his feet. Its translucence betrayed the contents inside: It was filled with used tissues. Dimly, he remembered the bar and the single tissue Sylvia had to offer. Dragging his knowing gaze away from the bag, Max caught sight of the car's cigarette lighter. Immediately, his thoughts went back to that summer. Back to an image of a can of soup balanced atop a car cigarette lighter on the dashboard.

"Well, it's nice to know this thing's good for somethin'."

The driver's side door closed with a quiet thunk. Max turned toward Sylvia to find the keys in the ignition but her eyes on him, an expression he couldn't read on her face. She studied him, her hands in her lap, as if waiting for a sign he was ready to go.

Max swallowed. He didn't know what to say, how to explain the thoughts that consumed him. And before his mind could catch up, his mouth moved. "We never went to Lake Destiny. Dad wanted to fish. He-He liked to fish..." Again her hand found his hair. Over the years she'd come to show affection for him in soothing ways like this. It was almost maternal. Somehow that made it harder to breathe, and the rest came out with a gasp, quiet and strained. "I-I should have let him take me--"

The words had barely left him when Sylvia's arms wrapped around his shoulders and crashed him to her in a tight embrace.

"He knew you loved him." Her voice was firm now; the sorrow replaced with a certainty that told him she understood. "He never doubted that."

He collapsed against her, fisting her jacket and pressing his face into her shoulder as sobs racked his body. She continued her ministrations on his hair and back, whispering in his ear in attempts to comfort him, but he soon felt his shoulder grow wet.

She was crying, too.






= = = = = =
Obligatory disclaimer: All characters belong to Disney, the only thing I own is this story idea. This was written for entertainment purposes and I do not plan to (nor will I) receive any compensation for it.

This was a two-month-long beast. There are things I still wish I could have done better, KNOW would have been done better years ago, but I'm still proud of this. It's done. And it's mine. And after the years I've had and the struggles with writing, it feels incredible to finally finish something cohesive again.

The idea came from a prompt in one of my christmas gifts. The prompt was "A strange request at a piano bar" and I had to include the following in the story: carnival, sprained, mask, oxidation, awkward, apple, juvenile, controversy, twirl, sassafras.

Fun facts:
-- The reason I immediately decided the story was going to involve Max and Goofy was because Goofy was the only source in my LIFE that I heard use the term "sassafras." The plot developed from there.
-- I was pulling my hair out for over a week trying to find a way to use "oxidized" without it sounding like a vocab drop. I had a bunch of flash backs of similar school assignments where I had to use certain terms and it was always so painfully obvious when something was dropped in just so that it was there. I am praying desperately that I used it well enough that it fit naturally into the narrative. Let me know.
-- The only way I finally calmed and figured out how to use all ten terms in a way that would make sense was to allow myself to use different forms (tenses) of the words. There were no instructions in the book of writing prompts (only the phrase "include the following in your story") so I allowed myself to cheat a little.

I really hope you enjoyed this, those few of you that haven't completely abandoned this place even though it's been barren for years. Please leave me your thoughts, feedback, or suggestions below. If you don't have a blogger account (you automatically do if you have a gmail) I DO allow anonymous comments.

See you next time.

10 Random Words

gems: Carnivorous Goliath-like bipeds characterized by their immense height, weight, and strength. They are as dark as burned tree bark, with large, thick arms and legs, and their bodies are barren of all hair. Their eyes run a gauntlet through yellow, red, and green, and shine like fires in the dark.

battle: The sound of quick, panicked movement through an underbrush. Usually in reference to small creatures scurrying between branches as they seek shelter from storms.

whisper: A person or creature that hunts or preys on small, winged fairies. Most human whispers use poisons and netting as their tools of capture while animal whispers excrete pheromones that stun or drug the fairies.

doll: A breed of canine characterized by its pitch-black fur, large size, and sickly thin bodies. Doll cubs (or "dollies") are as large as an adult tiger, and grow to be thrice that size by adulthood.

aroma: A mythical, glowing blue stone that is said to grant the magical properties of greek sirens to whomever wields it.

estimate: Weather characterized by severe winds and damaging rains, similar to a hurricane.

childish: A red fruit known for its blue seeds and pink leaves -- its juices are commonly used in most herbal remedies to diminish pain.

feelings: Botanic quadrupeds indigenous to rain forests with the ability to mask themselves into their environment by entwining their vines with the plant life.

lurker: The last shadow cast by an object or organism in a day.

crawler: A person who spends an unhealthy or unseemly amount of time on the computer or internet.


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Disclaimer: If you're a student and you've stumbled upon this page during a vocabulary assignment, DO NOT use these definitions. Your sentences will make zero sense and your grade will suffer.

I knew this was going to be hard, but damn. This is my entry for "Day 12" of the 30 'Day' Writing Challenge wherein I had to find ten random words and invent my own definitions for them. I took this to mean that the definitions I invented had to be wholly unrelated to what the word actually meant. So when I googled a word generator and it gave me "gems" I figured I had to exclude anything dealing with rocks or stones from my definition and anything dealing with fighting for "battle," and so on.

Gotta tell you, most of these were NOT easy to find new meanings for. When I found the generator I was hoping for some words I didn't see often or even know, but instead it gave me these basic words and I had to keep stopping myself from thinking of what they were and forcing myself to think of something new (which was the point, I know). It was worth the struggle, though, because in the end I got to envision some pretty cool creatures in my head... :)

Day 2: Write a FanFiction.
Day 16: Go to iTunes, put your music on random. Write a story about the first song that comes up. (250 words or less)
Day 22: Write a story based on a dream you had.
Day 12: Find 10 random words and create your own definitions.

"Inhale"

We started the evening at our favorite restaurant. It was our third anniversary and Jason reserved the same table where we had our first date. He did this every year but it never failed to make me smile. There was a single red rose at the center of the table, the same kind he surprised me with when he picked me up at home not an hour before. They were in full bloom and I had never smelled any as strong and sweet as those. Well, no, wait, that wasn't true. I remember a particularly stunning bouquet of a dozen roses that smelled so strongly it filled the whole room. It was back when I dated Tyler-- But that was long ago. Strange that it came to mind at all.

The dinner was exquisite. When it was over, I stood and turned toward the exit of the restaurant that led down toward the shops. I had assumed we would go on our usual walk through the marketplace and admire the lights, but Jason gently grabbed my hand and said, "I have a surprise for you." His light brown eyes shone with excitement and...something else. Was he nervous?

He led me back to the car and drove to the park where we first met. It's strange, it was actually the park Tyler took me to on a surprise picnic; I had returned to it one day, years after we broke up, not sure of what I was looking for, when I bumped into Jason. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. All these flashbacks were probably the work of that strange dream I had the other night. But it was nothing, not even worth mentioning to Jason. The dream was innocent enough, if only random, since it involved a coffee shop and I don't drink coffee; so I didn't spend much time on it. Or at least I wouldn't if the flashbacks would stop.

Jason circled the car and opened my door, offering his hand. I smiled like a smitten schoolgirl: His chivalry always made my heart melt. We walked towards the lake together, my heels clicking softly on the sidewalk. The air was a little chilly, and there was just enough of a breeze to make my dress dance around my ankles, but thankfully not enough to pose a risk of a wardrobe malfunction. He wore a new suit for the occasion, I realized. It was black, but flattered his body well, and the green tie brought out the browns of his eyes, even in the night. 

"You look really handsome tonight," I said aloud.

He stopped walking and beamed down at me. Guiding me gently by the hand, he twirled me around in a spin. "And you look absolutely beautiful."

I giggled and looked away, fighting a blush, but he cupped my cheek and led me back into a kiss. It was soft, and as we resumed our walking I no longer felt the cold. Still, I couldn't help but realize that every one of our kisses had always been tender. In three years neither one of us had ever let go and lost ourselves in a passionate, heated kiss. It wasn't like that with Tyler... But who was to say that was a bad thing? It only meant we were in more control of ourselves, right? After all, Jason and I were knocking on thirty -- far from the whimsical years of our early twenties when it was easy to give into our hormones. 

I lost my train of thought as I noticed something flickering up ahead. We were almost at the lake now and something was casting patterns onto the water. As we took the first steps down toward the shore, I saw it all:

Candles. Dozens of them. Positioned in a wide half-circle around a single chair. The sight was breath-taking, but left my mind reeling with questions. Why was there only one chair? Who had arranged all the candles? Was someone else there with us? Did Jason plan all of this or were we about to intrude on someone else's evening?

My last question was answered when Jason walked me to the chair and guided me to sit. He handed me a single rose -- it must have been laying on the ground beside the chair -- and spoke my name as delicately as I held the flower. His eyes flickered in the candlelight, but I could see he was no longer nervous.

He knelt on one knee, and I found myself inhaling sharply as he pulled out a small box from his jacket pocket. He held it out to me, still closed, while I covered my mouth with one hand and tried desperately not to cry. He spoke my name again.

"From the moment I met you, I knew I had found something that would change my life forever. And every moment I've spent with you since has proven to me that it is something I cannot go back to living without. You are my missing piece, my better half. And if you'll let me, I'd like to spend the rest of my life trying to be the same for you..."

He opened the box. The stone was stunning and sparkled more than the water behind him; and the band of silver swirled around it like a wave, reflecting the candlelight so that it almost looked like fire.

"...Will you marry me?"

It was all so perfect. Our special place, candlelight, words that left me hopelessly crying, and a man who was looking at me with all the love I could ever need. It was all like I imagined it would be. I placed the rose in my lap and wiped at my eyes, unable to control the grin that had spread from ear to ear. I reopened my eyes to meet his, expecting to sink into the deep blue pools that reminded me so much of the open water--

When I realized I was thinking of the wrong face. Jason had brown eyes, not blue. It was Jason that was kneeling before me, waiting for an answer. Jason who had planned a perfect evening and perfect proposal...

Jason, whose smile had faltered because mine had fallen.

Everything was perfect...

And then I said no.

----

This is my submission for "Day 22" of the 30 Day Writing Challenge: Write a story based on a dream you had, which I've decided to title "Inhale." This was actually difficult to write for a number of reasons: One being the massive writer's block I've been battling for months (which I think is probably evident in this piece); another being that (as the challenge says) this was a real dream I had had earlier this week -- no doubt inspired by my romantic troubles -- and so it took a bit of a tug on the heartstrings to relive it in order to recall the general essence and vibe of the evening (not to mention trying to create enough details to fill the holes since the dream was only of the last scene). But there was a third reason, too, which stems from the second reason. 

There is an almost crippling fear that accompanies any writing that involves revealing something personal because you are essentially stripping away all the covers and bearing your mind, heart, and soul naked for all to see. While it might sound brave to do so, the fact remains that it involves a lot of risk because it not only opens you up to judgement, but also creates the possibility of someone else being offended, angry, or hurt (etc.) by what is written. I keep a tell-all personal blog that runs this risk every time I write in it, which, on the one hand, gives me good practice on writing despite fears, but on the other hand I purposefully don't give the url out to just anybody because I'm so afraid. (Don't bother checking the sidebar, the link to it has never been there.) So this particular challenge was frightening because I'm essentially admitting that I'm terrified that years from now someone would be proposing to me and I'll realize I'm not over someone else. No real names were used here, obviously, and poor "Jason" didn't even have a name in the dream, but from what I recalled he seemed like someone who would have a "J" name.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this piece and the small glimpse of my personal life that it gave. I am truly sorry for the horribly slow speed of updates, but I promise you it wasn't for lack of trying. As always, please feel free to comment your thoughts and/or criticisms. And as a reminder to those of you who may not have a google/blogger account, I always leave my posts open to anonymous comments (although please feel free to leave an initial or name somewhere in the comment so that I know you're human :P).

Day 2: Write a FanFiction.

Day 16: Go to iTunes, put your music on random. Write a story about the first song that comes up. (250 words or less)

Day 22: Write a story based on a dream you had.

"Coffee Break"

I'm two cups into my coffee break and still struggling to keep my eyes open. I don't quite remember how I even got to this café. My phone rings again. There's two voicemails, four text messages, and now five missed calls that I haven't returned, but I shut off my phone instead. I just need a little time. I'm so tired and haven't made even a dent in all the things that are due this week. Our group project still has to be edited and rendered, I still have to finish sixty pages for my film script, I promised to cover a double tomorrow at work, my play isn't finished either, and--
Breathe. Breathe...
Mom would say I'm over-committing myself again, and Dad would probably say something like, "That's life. It'll be good for you."
I haven't seen them since September. Back then moving to a different city on my own seemed like a good idea. But it's hard to keep up with how fast things move here. I'm sleeping so little these days; I think--
My watch beeps to inform me I'm now done with my coffee break. My wallet's empty so I fumble some change out of my pocket and drop it onto the table. I hope the server understands. I'm still trying to, myself.
I turn and walk back towards campus.

I guess this is growing up.


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This here is my submission for "Day 16" in the 30 Day Writing Challenge: "Go to iTunes, put your music on random. Write a story about the first song that comes up. (250 words or less)." Mine turned out to be 230 words, in case anyone was curious. Fun fact: The first draft was ~270.
I expected to get a ridiculous song choice (like from a musical, a "summer hit" pop song that's mostly chorus, or something heavy metal/rock) since my library is pretty darn random, but was happily surprised with the mellow, somehow soothing song, "Coffee Break" by Forever the Sickest Kids. As you can see, I named the excerpt after the song. **Disclaimer: Do not own the song rights (only the song file, lol) and am in no way affiliated with the band or their representation company.**
It's been a while since I've listened to FSK (I am aware it's "FTSK" online but we English students get it drilled into our heads that "the" doesn't get included in acronyms/other such abbreviations :P) so it actually led to a pretty great session of ideas. I kept working at it but the more I did the more I took out that related to the song (the mother bit used to be in there and got lost completely) so that it would flow more naturally. Rather, so that it'd flow the way a stressed out college or grad student would think on no sleep (in my experience). :P The end result hopefully matches the tone of the song and the general sentiment the speaker had about their life.
So you could say it's more inspired by the song rather than about it, but, hey, that still counts, right? :) Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. And as always, feel free to comment your thoughts.

Day 2: Write a FanFiction
Day 16: Go to iTunes, put your music on random. Write a story about the first song that comes up. (250 words or less)

Mirror Stolen From the Wall

The Wicked Queen laughed triumphantly as she left the cottage, knowing her plan was complete. No matter how much the dwarves fussed, no matter how many pathetic forest creatures rushed to the princess' side, nothing could be done: Snow White was dead. The Sleeping Death poison had worked its dark magic instantly -- it only took one bite. And when the dwarves find her laying on the floor, seemingly dead, Snow White would be buried 'alive.'

The Wicked Queen let out another toothless laugh as she neared her castle. Her disguise of an old woman had fooled the naive princess with little effort. "Who's the fool now!" she cackled, thinking back to the hunter's belief that a pig's heart would keep her from knowing the truth. Admittedly, the trick had worked for a short time, but the enchanted mirror soon told all to the queen.

She smiled wide, revealing nothing but gums, relishing in her success. The mirror couldn't deny it now, she thought. Now with the girl dead, she was the fairest in the land! The Wicked Queen ran a hand through her long, raggy-gray locks as if they were her slick, black strands. The potion that gave her this disguise would not wear off for several more hours, but she couldn't wait -- as soon as she arrived at the castle, the queen ran up the steps to her tower, looking for the mirror. She burst into the room, the question already forming at her lips, only to be stopped short by a gasp.

The mirror!

It was gone!

The queen looked around the room frantically. It had to be here! It wasn't possible for it to go missing: No one was allowed in her quarters. It had to be here!

She turned over tables, couldrons, her armoire, but with no success. The enchanted mirror was gone. Stolen from under her very nose!

She brought a wrinkled hand up to her large, disfigured nose. A disguise so hideous and for what end? The poison? Snow White's death? Without the mirror everything was for not. Snow White's death means nothing if the Wicked Queen could not enjoy her prize, her title. She wanted her rightful reputation of fairest in the land and the mirror was the only one who could confirm it for her. Without the princess to steal the queen's title, she had to be sure there was no one else to -- she gasped. The dwarves! They must have known of her plot and, knowing they could not hope to defeat her, must have broken into her castle and taken what she wanted. But how could they have known of her actions? And how could they have possibly done the theft so quickly?

The hunter!

She had been so focused on the princess that she had forgotten to kill the hunter that dared to deceive her. He must have returned to assure the princess' safety and discovered the mirror in the process. And if he had the mirror, he will know the secret to the princess' salvation. The dwarves may not have stolen the mirror, but if the hunter returns to them with it...

No! She will not let this be! Already she was running down the steps. She had to get to the dwarves before they heard how to break the spell.

Her legs were still frail, her gait still limped, but she hastened out of her palace and towards the woods as fast as her withered bones could take her. She had to stop them. Everything would be undone. She didn't even stop to consider what she would do once she was there -- she hadn't prepared any other potions or spells, and her current state would hardly seem threatening to a group of seven (possibly eight if the hunter was there), even if they were only dwarves. She only knew that she had to get there quick.

After what felt like hours, at last, the cottage was in sight. There was a scramble of animals surrounding it, and just as her eyes were able to make out the door, it opened. The dwarves were furious and looking for blood. She stopped, she would never be able to get close to the cottage now. Perhaps if she hid within the trees and waited for an opportunity--

But she was spotted. All at once the dwarves charged at her, pick-axes raised high into the air. Terrified, she ran, paying no mind to the direction her legs chose. The old-woman body was much too exhausted from covering so much ground, and the Evil Queen was not prepared to face all seven of the dwarves at once -- much less armed.

She found herself at a cliff. How did she lose her way? She turned to double-back, to find another route, but they were coming for her. She could hear their screams and soon, she saw them make the bend.

She reached behind her for something, anything, but mistakenly grabbed a weakened branch, which snapped under her bony grasp. Her balance faltered, and she slipped. She screamed in pure terror as everything rushed past her -- the dwarves' loathing faces, peering at her from over the edge, being the last image she could see before everything went black.





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Required disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Snow White, all of which (in this case) belong to Disney. I did not write this for any financial gain; this was purely for fun and creative purposes.

OKAY, now that the disclaimer is out of the way: Hello! This is my submission for the second challenge in the 30 'Day' Writing Challenge: "Write a Fanfiction." This is what they call a "one-shot," meaning it's a short story between one page to one chapter long that has no sequels or room for continuing. Just a flash, one event, a story drive-by if you will. Once it's done, it's done. So this is my one-shot titled (as you can see) "Mirror Stolen From the Wall." I didn't think it counted as a rewrite of a fairy tale since I didn't change anything about Snow White's story or the general ending (Queen still dies), so I figured it counted for "Day Two."

Day 2: Write a fanfiction.

:) Please comment your thoughts. Hope you all enjoyed it!

30 "Day" Writing Challenge

So there is this writing challenge where you're supposed to complete a certain fictional task every day. Now that my writer's block may finally be breaking, this could be the wrecking ball I need to get the show back on the road.

Now, as you'll soon read, I don't think I'll be cranking out a challenge EVERY DAY like the instructions encourage. Let's be realistic here, a LOT of these challenges are gonna take a LOT of time to complete -- I mean, one of them is "write a fanfiction" for crying out loud!! xD But, whatever the schedule turns out to be, I do aim to complete all 30 challenges. Oh! And I don't plan on doing them in order. Just whichever jumps out at me in the moment.

Okay, enough ramble. The challenges are:

1. Re-write a classic fairy tale
2. Write a fanfiction
3. A story that takes place pre-1950
4. A poem using the words "blue, mistrust, half, twang"
5. A story revolving around an object in your room
6. Start your story with "He glanced at his watch impatiently..."
7. Create a superhero. Have he/she save the day.
8. Write a prequel to that superhero. Pre-superhero life. Maybe their childhood.
9. A story in 250 words or less about your favorite city.
10. Start story with "She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled..."
11. A story where the characters go without power for a day.
12. Find 10 random words and create your own definitions.
13. Begin with "I thought I saw..."
14. Randomly find someone in your yearbook. Create a story about their life today.
15. Write about a stranger you see. Either their back-story or what they are thinking in the moment you see them.
16. Go to iTunes, put your music on random. Write a story about the first song that comes up. (250 words or less)
17. Use time travel in a story.
18. A story set in a ghost town.
19. Write an obituary for a historical figure.
20. Use these words in a story: Grandfather, photo album, post office, and folder.
21. He or she sees their crush in a library. Describe the incident.
22. Write a story based on a dream you had.
23. Describe/fictionalize a childhood memory.
24. Write a story that takes place 100 years in the future.
25. Write a story about a mythical creature.
26. Write about the 30th picture on your phone or computer. Write about the story behind it, or make up the story behind it.
27. Story taking place during a sporting event (any sport).
28. Story on a ship. Past, present, or future.
29. Story about space.
30. Story or poem about ice.

Alrighty. There they are. I'll post each of the challenges on here as I complete them. :) I'd appreciate it if you would read them and comment your thoughts. (I will tag them all with the same "30 Day Writing Challenge" label that I'll attach to this post). And remember, you don't need a Gmail account or BlogSpot Blogger account to leave a comment on my page. I've allowed anonymous commenting. :) Thanks in advance, and wish me luck!

"In a Tree"

Some girls fantasize about their crushes. Some chronicle their fantasies and unrequited feelings into their private blogs or those furry little notebooks with that totally secure lock that no one could pick open with a pen or paperclip, ever. Many of these entries are quite poetic, too. As though having a crush on a guy that doesn't know you exist -- or worse, does know you exist but is completely unimpressed -- gives you this new superpower where everything you write sounds like it'd earn a Publitzer. Pulitzer? Whatever, the literary version of a Nobel Prize.

Me?

I fantasize, sure. But not in a hack-able blog or 'hidden' diary -- seriously, who ever thought under the bed or mattress was the perfect hiding spot for the records of private musings? You know where's really private? IN YOUR HEAD. Yup, I take a much more secure approach.

Perched on a tree staring at him as he plays soccer, all the while narrating my thoughts back to myself in my head like JD from 'Scrubs.'

Oh, God, I just heard it...

How creepy is that from one to restraining order?

And I ask this as if anyone is going to answer in my own head. Although I suppose the fact that no one does answer is a good sign. Like there's still hope for me yet, right? I really need to stop asking myself non-rhetorical questions.

Ooh, leg cramp. God, that hurts. How do I climb down again? Let's see, was it this branch that I...?

"WAAAHHH!"

OWW! SON OF A-- DAMMIT. God... Okay. Well, at least I got down.

....

Just in time for the entire team to see me and stare.  Heh, heh... "H-Hi, guys... Great practice?" Oh, God, this is mortifying. They look so creeped out. No, wait, one of them is smiling. Okay, so maybe it's not so...

Wait.

Oh, no.

And now they're all laughing. Hysterically. Yup. I think this would be the best time to RUN.

OWW!! Since when is there a rock there?! Oh, God, did my pants rip? Oh, Jesus-- Oh, okay. Whew, no they didn't...

Although now I'm the girl who checked out her own butt.

Ugh. Kill me.

....

Okay, I don't see them anymore so I think I'm far enough away now. That was humiliating. And I think I sprained my ankle.

Sigh. Why couldn't I just buy a diary?





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A/N:
:) Okay, guys, I know this excerpt must seem totally random and bizarre, but you have NO IDEA how happy I am that it came out from my fingertips!! A lot of things have been happening -- none of it interesting or eventful, it's been mostly psychological stress/breakdowns and emotional/personal drama -- which have created this MONUMENTAL WRITER'S BLOCK that literally left me unable to complete a SENTENCE of anything for months. Now this excerpt might not be that great, I don't know, I've never written anything from this kind of point of view before, but my point stands that THIS is THE FIRST THING I've been able to get out since graduation!! Sad? A little. But I'm choosing to look at it as a beacon of hope that the huge brick wall on my brain may finally be deconstructing itself.

Cross your fingers for me guys. You have no idea how much I've been losing it at the idea that I might not be able to do this.

Oh, side note: The above character is named Marley. And contrary to (possibly) your first thought, her parents didn't name her after Bob Marley, they named her after the DOG, Marley.

Her life is just that kind.

A Looming Return

Hey there! Remember me? Ah, it feels good to write in here again. Let me start with an apology: I'm deeply sorry for the neglect this place has suffered for...quite some time. ^^;; I just finished updating the links and profile photo on the side (pretty photo of Rei, isn't it?) so everything should be current. I deleted the link for my myspace page because I can't remember the last time I logged into that thing, and when I finally did I had a strong dislike for the new layout and controls there, SO I don't expect to use that place again, ever. :P I'm considering adding my Facebook on there, but don't know if that's necessary yet. Thoughts?
Also, in case ya'll haven't noticed, I also added a new "gadget" to the side: LABELS!! :P When I was cleaning the place up I realized there was no way to search for topics, so one would have to just wait until the next time I labeled something with that topic or manually go through all the pages here until they found one. There was an option to include a search bar, but it was my understanding that it would not only search my site, but google as well. I decided it'd be best to go with the "cloud" option instead. :) I think it works well. I made sure to select the "main" labels/subjects to include since most of my labels include names or titles.

Anyway, back to the apology. I'm so sorry I haven't taken care of this place the way I should. At the time I was buried under homework, finals, papers, etc. BUT I have some awesome news! :) I am now...A COLLEGE GRADUATE!! That's right! I graduated with my Bachelors last December so now -- other than my job and working on story/novel ideas -- I will no longer have anything tying me up from contributing to this place on a more regular basis. :) And... yes, you read right. I graduated last December. ^^;; So I guess there's another apology in order for not writing/updating until now. What can I say? I was enjoying being a couch potato. xD It HAS been so long...

SO. Here is my promise to you, my readers: I will bring this site back and submit something on a semi-regular basis. I may start with movie reviews again as a way to bring on habitual posting, but there will be more excerpts, character backgrounds, and other such writing fun. :) There'll also be more book reviews (once I finish reading one, lol) and manga reviews and... Well, you get the idea. ^^;;

So thank you, those of you who are reading this and are still with me. Thanks for taking the time to visit this place. I hope you all continue to do so and enjoy your visits. :) Oh, and do feel free to hound me if I take too long between posts again. ;D Ah, sounds good, yes?

Alright! I shall see you all again soon. For now, goodnight!

Journal

I wish some things were different. Not all things, just a few. Like, I wish my mother hadn't moved to California, for instance. I miss her. I still need her from time to time. Dad tries, but... There's only so much a grown man can handle or understand of the mind of a teenaged woman. I don't blame him for that. It's just natural.

I wish Jason never went on his missionary trip for Haiti all those years ago. There was no way to know there was something wrong with the plane, I know, so it would have been selfish of me to ask him to stay. But if he hadn't gone... He'd still be with me.

He used to give me daisies every month, and laugh when the scent made me wiggle my nose. He used to take me to the park where my parents met and watch me dance in the sun. He would brush my hair out of my eyes and tell me something that he loved about me -- and each time it would be something different...

I used to trace his fingers with mine... Feeling amazed at how they could be calloused from work yet soft at the same time...
I used to lie beside him in the grass and listen to all the things he'd do someday...
I remember how the gold in his eyes would flicker with emotion when he talked about his ambitions...
It would also flicker every time he looked at me...

Not all of my wishes deal with me, though. I wish some things were different for my friends, too.

I wish Anna's fiance never cheated on her. She had gone through so much already... I'll never forget the way she looked at me when she found out. I'd never seen her so broken...

I wish Aaron could have found his mom before she died. He had wanted nothing but to meet the woman who loved him enough to give him a chance at life... despite the circumstances of his conception.

I don't want everything to be different, though. There are some things I'm glad are different. For instance, because Mom left, Dad quit drinking. He smiles more now, and laughs more now. I love our Thursday night card games... We never had that when Mom was here... There was only fighting.

I'm grateful Jason's sister found a way to cope through her paintings. The images and blends of colors that come from her have made her name famous throughout the world -- with every painting showing another piece of the love she had for her brother.

I'm happy that Aaron and Anna found each other. They were just what the other needed to go through their respective heartaches. It's like magic, seeing them together.

I'm grateful that not everything is different.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I intended to write a personal blog entry into my Xanga but wrote this instead. I guess someone else needed to vent more than I did. I hope I can flesh out her character and find out who she is someday...

Please comment :)

Creative Writing Assignment 02

Hello, one and all. Sorry for the long hiatus; my homework-load turned out to be twice as heavy as I thought it would be so I've had literally NO TIME to blog--personal or otherwise. Today I found myself with some down time so I'm going to post the second of my Creative Writing Assignments =)

For this assignment, Prof. Kesler asked us to write a two-to-three page scene where the majority of the story relied on dialogue. He explained that SOME narration obviously had to take place ((otherwise everyone would be lost)) but that more than half had to be dialogue. So here is my scene, again I won't give it a special title. I've had a lot of positive feedback from this piece but if anything seems off don't hesitate to say so ^_^ Enjoy and please share your thoughts!!

CRW Assignment 02 -- Emphasis on Dialogue

Amy took a cautious step forward and placed her hand on the car-door handle. "Are you sure I'm ready for this? I mean, I did run over a lot of cones during practice..."

Dismissing her comment with a wave of his hand, Amy's father, Noah, climbed into the passenger seat. "You'll be fine! We'll just avoid parallel parking today."

"Still," she said while climbing into the driver's seat, "you really think I'm ready to drive out on the road?"

"Well you've got to learn sometime," he said with a lighthearted chuckle. "Relax! I'll be right here if anything goes wrong. Now buckle up, and tell me, what's the first thing you do?"

"Check my mirrors." Amy examined the rearview mirrors and made the necessary adjustments for her height. She started the ignition and slowly pulled out of the driveway. Amy had never driven anywhere outside of her school's parking lot and the thought of driving onto the public roads (with real traffic) was, she will admit, a little frightening.

As they neared the exit of the complex, Amy gave her father a quick glance. "Did you want me to take Maple or Orange?"

"Take Maple, we'll stop by the supermarket and pick up some groceries. I thought you might enjoy a home-cooked meal tonight instead of frozen pizza again." The smile on his face eased Amy's nerves. "Merge left here, we're going to turn at the next light."

As she merged safely into the next lane, Amy returned to the original subject. "Yeah, we really are hopeless whenever Mom goes on her business trips." She let out a small laugh as one particular occasion came to mind. "Remember that time we tried to bake a chicken but forgot to defrost it first?"

Noah made a sound of disapproval. "It took hours to cook and still didn't taste right." He watched as Amy waved at another driver, signaling that they could merge in. The sound of her laugh made his next statement difficult to say. "Listen, Amy, about your mother--careful that car is turning."

Amy sighed as she adjusted her speed to let the car through. "I wish more people would use their signal, I mean it doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"But you're doing great. See? I told you it'd be fine."

"Thanks, Dad," she sent him a quick smile before turning her attention back to the road. "What about Mom?"

He looked for a way to approach the subject. "She... She decided to extend her business trip a few more days."

"How come? I thought she was coming back Monday?"

He took a deep breath before answering. "She's been upset with me and needs the time away."

Amy sent her father a puzzled look. "What do you mean? You've had your arguments--a lot of them actually--but you always get through it."

"Amy... this time it's not the same..."

"What do you mean?"

There was a short pause. "We're getting a divorce."

"You're WHAT?" In her shock Amy spun the wheel and the car swerved into the next lane. She screamed as the cars honked and swerved to avoid her, only half noticing her father reach over and grab the wheel.

"Jesus, Amy!" Noah swerved the car away from traffic and into the grass where Amy slammed the brakes. "Amy! You can't just--"

"You and Mom are doing what?" She yelled. Her heart was beating at a painful rate, her body was shaking from fear, and her face had turned sickly pale--but it had nothing to do with the car accident she almost caused. "A divor--A divorce?"

He held out a hand, motioning her to calm down. "We tried to make this work, we did. We even went to counseling if you remember. It's just not working."

"What do you mean it's not working? Everything was fine! Everybody fights, Dad, it doesn't mean you just quit! You work it out! You and Mom are supposed to work it out!"

"I'm sorry, Amy, but it's just not happening. We're tired of kidding ourselves--"

"Kidding yourselves?" Amy noticed her father's wince, but didn't lower her voice. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Amy, your mother and I grew apart long ago, but we stayed together for your sake. But it's time we both moved on with our lives and now that you're old enough--"

"I don't believe this!" Amy ran her hands over her face, wiping away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. "I can't believe this is happening!"

Noah reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a box of tissues. "I'm sorry, Amy..." He sighed as he watched the tissue box fumble in his daughter's trembling hands. He tried again, "Your mother and I just can't do this anymore."

"I can't believe this," Amy repeated quietly over and over. "I can't--"

"It'll be alright, sweetheart," Noah said as he pulled his daughter into an awkward embrace.

"No it won't, Dad. It won't be all right."

Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and comment.

Creative Writing Assignment 01

**EDITED: OCTOBER 28TH 2009!! Thanks everyone for your feedback!! Since the main issue everyone found with this was the overwhelming amount of times I wrote "Janira" [[which I didn't even realize I did until I reread it afterward]] I finally got around to editing it and fixing it. It SHOULD be better now... Thanks again!!**


As some of you may know, I'm currently attending college with the intent of earning a BA in Creative Writing. Right now I'm only in my Sophomore year but I've finally made it past the general credit classes: Now comes the fun stuff. Currently I'm taking a course specifically for English Majors.

Creative Writing ^__^ Yes.

In this class we're given writing assignments due weekly. It's two weeks into the school year, thus two writing assignments have gone by.

This is the first. We were assigned to write a non-fiction scene were we included ourselves as the main character. The scene had to be in third person -- which was awkward because I hate saying my own name -- and it had to be at a length where we could read it aloud in under two minutes.

I'm going to be posting every assignment we're given, but I won't assign any special titles to them other than what the assignment was. So this one will be titled after it's time limit.

Please comment your thoughts =) And I hope you enjoy.

CRW Assignment 01 -- Two Minute Scene

Janira looked over her note cards again for what must have been the seventh time in the past ten minutes. It was the day of her first speech presentation and her nerves were getting the better of her. She looked around the room and spotted the other five students that would also be presenting that day, identifying them by their formal attire. She couldn't help but notice that none of them looked as nervous as she was. Turning back to her note cards, she noticed her hands were shaking slightly so she slowed her breathing in an effort to calm her nerves.

Three students came and went, but their gracious and impressive performances only intensified her fears. It would be her turn next. As the previous presenter took her seat, Janira stood on shaky knees and walked to the front of the room. There were only twenty students in the classroom but there may as well have been a hundred. She could feel the weight of her fellow classmates' stares as she plugged in her flash drive and opened her Power Point file.

Once everything was prepared, Janira directed her eyes to the back of the room where the instructor, Mrs. Bledsoe, was writing down her comments of the previous speaker. She took this opportunity to take a few deep breaths, trying not to focus on the forty eyes that were staring right at her. "You can do this," she mentally coached herself, "it's just for five minutes then it'll be over." At the instructor's nod, she took one last breath before beginning her presentation--the small beep of the stopwatch not going unnoticed.

The slow breathing failed to help as she felt her anxiety grow. She began to shift her weight from one foot to the other in attempt to keep them from knocking. She grasped the note cards with both hands hoping that no one would notice them shaking, and she cleared her throat after every other sentence in hopes that her voice would stay even. The sympathetic looks from her classmates only horrified her more. It was at that point Janira realized she had lost her place; with a mumbled apology she consulted her note cards, her face growing hot. When she finally resumed her speech she couldn't hide the quiver in her voice. There was no kidding herself now; this was a disaster.

When her presentation was finally done, she thanked the audience quietly before collecting her things and returning to her seat. She exhaled sharply, feeling her heart pound against her ribs. Someone gently touched her shoulder and she looked up. The girl that sat directly beside her smiled gently and said, "You did great."

All Janira could do was nod and smile graciously before turning back to the front of the room. This was going to be a long semester.

There you have it. My first writing assignment. It's not as descriptive as I wanted it to be but that's because of the time limit I had so if it seems a lacking in that aspect, that's why.

Thanks, share your thoughts.

the Beauty of Ink and the Love of Words...

Last night I saw the film, Doubt. It affected me so strongly I wrote a Xanga entry, but this is something I want to share with more than just the audience that reads my journal. The following is what I wrote into Xanga at 12:26AM this morning...

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I just saw the film, Doubt, and my thoughts are rambling out of me faster than I can type them.
It is nothing short of incredible what writing does to me.
The film was magnificent. Powerful. Beautiful. Provoking.

I hardly know how to describe it.

My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.
My hand kept falling to my stomach because it was literally in knots.
My shoulders tensed and I felt genuinely uncomfortable at the conversations.
My hands covered my mouth and nose, frightened at the intensity much like a child would be at a murder film.

It's such an incredible feeling...

The excitement and fear sets my veins afire with inspiration and awe.
I'm left with my mind reeling at the possibilities, the accusations, the explanations, and the consequences of the lives of complete (and fictional) strangers.

This is why I want to be a writer.

This is what I want to be able to do.

Writing moves me in ways I cannot describe.
It sends my heart fluttering much like it would a crush to a schoolgirl.
I can see her now sitting in the playground playing with her braids, eyeing the boy who has so fascinated her.

That is what writing does to me.

It paralyzes me and makes me study it, fascinated by it's effect on me.

Oh, and the weather...

Plays do the most beautiful thing with weather...

With every emotion, every word, every moment the character experiences -- the weather mirrors.
It isn't done with the cliche way movies do it. It doesn't start to rain just because the heroine is sad. It doesn't suddenly become sunny and blissful when the boy wins his love.

No.

Plays do it much differently.

They use sound...
Electricity...
Wind...
Lights...
Water...

They use it all and mold them like clay into the story itself.

So when it happens you don't take notice of it, because it doesn't stand out on it's own.
It blends with the characters themselves so that you feel you are experiencing them in more ways than you thought possible.

It's overwhelming...

It's an art...

And I am in love with that art.

When I see something so perfectly written I can't help but become obsessed.
I imagine it must be what pilots feel when they first take flight...
How musicians feel when they hear that one chord that has been missing from their song...
How artists feel when they find that one last stroke of the brush that sets their masterpiece to completion...

It overwhelms me...

Thrills me...

It even changes how I speak...

This is why I want to be a writer.

I want to learn how to wield this craft.

How to turn letters, symbols, ink, and paper into something so extraordinary that the reader, viewer, and listener cannot disconnect from it.

I want to learn how make changes to how a person thinks, feels, and speaks...



I want to know how to make people fall in love with a world not their own...


I want to know how to perform this art that has stood the test of Time...


I want to know how to connect everyone...

To one common emotion..


I want to be a writer...

Because I want the world to feel...

as I feel...

Faellynn's Quest Log 48.4

Faellynn's Profile

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QUEST LOG 48.4

My stay here in Stranglethorn Vale is coming close to an end. I have fought countless of trolls who have sided with the Alliance and have taken many remains and stolen treasures back to Grom'gol camp. These poor trolls... to have their own kin betray them in such ways is heartbreaking. They tell me there is not much else I can do, and they thank me for giving so much. I pray they see better days after this.

           Algar's training is troubling. He doesn't seem to really strive in his battles as Mayne does. After facing so many enemies, he still hasn't grown much in strength or skill; he is growing increasingly reluctant to do much of anything, really. I have been trying to push him a little harder because while I have always been there to save him whenever he was overpowered, I cannot guarentee I will always be able to. I need to be able to trust that he can stand on his own if things got too serious. His actions grow reckless to the point where he rushes after an enemy we never needed (or weren't ready to) face.

           I love Algar, he has a strong spirit and is a very wise creature; but if he refuses to learn how to survive against the Alliance with me then I will be forced to return him to Thousand Needles and leave him in his old nesting grounds. At least there he would be safe and I would never have to worry about him. I hope it doesn't come to that... I would love for him to stay.

           While on one of my quests, I came across a fascinating creature. It was a female Bangalash Tiger, a truly rare breed. Soon as I was able, I returned Algar to the stables at Grom'gol and returned to where I saw the feline prowling. I confronted her and tamed her, and now she seems willing to be my companion along with Mayne and Algar. I have decided to name her Rana, which means "eye catching." I find the name suits her perfectly because when she is stalking a target she has the ability fade into her sorroundings so well that you could swear she just disappeared before your eyes. She has such power in her claws that I suspect she may be even more powerful than Mayne. I trust she will do amazingly in any danger we face.

           After my last task here, I will move on to a new area known as the Hinterlands. I have been told more trolls reside in a village there, and that they are in desperate need of assistance. It sounds like the perfect place to begin Rana's training. 

---Faellynn

"Criticism Wanted"

This is a piece I wrote back in 2006 and posted into my LiveJournal. I was skimming the old 'Journal recently and came across it. I never named it and the title of the entry was simply "Criticism Wanted", but the truth is: I don't think I've written anything that tops this yet. (Which is sad when you think about it. I'm supposed to get better with time)

I thought I'd repost it here since even I think it's awesome. Might skim old entries of my Xanga to find stories there and do the same. 

Enjoy.

= = = = = = 

I kept my eyes open for her. The hall was flooded with people but I knew she was here somewhere.
There. She was sitting at the table alone, everyone else must've gone to dance.
I headed for her, but someone else stood in my way. It was the brunette from my sixth period.
"C'mon let's dance! I love this song!"
"Actually I was--" but I was already being dragged to the dance floor. The song was fast enough so I decided to humor her.
Wasn't long until I regretted it.
She was dancing way too close and 'wild' for my taste. It seemed pretty clear she wanted all my attention on her. 
The song ended and I gratefully left the dance floor while she was placing in a request.
She was still sitting there. Her fork idly playing with the napkin. She looked up at me as I sat beside her. She quickly directed her gaze back at her fork. "Hey."
"Hey.." I had never seen her in a dress before. The black gown wrapped around her perfectly, her hair down well past her shoulders. She never wore any make-up, which I had always loved since it left her face unmasked, allowing her natural beauty to shine through. Her skin was smooth and clear, and her full lips were a little rosy, she must've been bitting them recently. I could see the flames from the center-piece candles reflected in her dark eyes. "You look beautiful."
She rolled her eyes, her grip on her fork tightening.
"You do."
Her eyes narrowed at me. "Stop it."
I sighed. She never believed any compliment I gave her. She had started playing with her fork again. "We need to talk--"
"Here comes your little friend."
I turn my head to see the brunette heading towards me. She latched onto my arm. "C'mon they're playing my favorite next!" 
"Have fun." She dropped her fork and stood, quickly making her way outside to the balcony.
"Wait!" I shake the brunette off my arm, then rush after her.
She was leaning against the railing, her back turned to me. I stopped a few feet behind her.
"It's not what you think. She just asked me to dance, I'm not--"
"Oh I'm sure that's all it was."
"That is all it was! I got away as fast as I could."
"Oh, I'm sure you did. It's not like you ever had trouble turning away from attractive girls."
My shoulders fell with the weight of her words. I had to swallow hard before I could speak again. "I know I screwed up...but I promise I won't ever make that mistake again...."
She turned with a fierce look in her eyes."You promised never to make it in the first place! How can you be so sure you wouldn't make it again?"
"Do you really think I'd do that again after knowing how much it hurt to lose you?!"
"Oh, I'm sure it hurt alot, what with your ability to endure pain. If you dislocated a shoulder you'd just pop it back in without a single wince!"
"It's not the same thing and you know it!"
"Just do me a favor and spare me the stories." She walked passed me but I grabbed her wrist before she could get away. 
"Would you just listen to me, I--" I must've pulled harder than I thought because she was suddenly against my chest and my arms were around her. She had stiffened, but didn't move. I could smell her shampoo in her hair, and I found myself pulling her closer. She was warm despite the slight chill outside. I hadn't held her in so long... Her soft voice broke through my thoughts.
"You..what?"
I realized I had forgotten what I was going to say. I tried to remember, but I couldn't concentrate on anything but the feeling of her body against mine, the feeling of my arms around her waist. "I don't remember..."
"Oh..." She was slowly relaxing, and soon I felt her arms wrap around me tightly. I felt relief flood my senses as I tightened my hold on her. God how I've missed her touch...
"I love you..." I hugged her as tight as I could. "I love you so much.." I felt my shirt grow wet and I reluctantly pulled back a little. I placed a hand under her chin and gently lifted her face. Her cheeks and nose were pink, and wet from her tears. I wiped her eyes with my thumb as she bit her lip, most likely to fight back more tears.
"I love you too..." Her voice was so quiet I almost didn't hear it. Before I could stop myself I lowered my head and kissed her. It was quick, but it was enough to send my mind spiraling through every moment I had with her... Everything I had lost.
I felt her pull me close and I kissed her again, and this time she responded.
God I had forgotten how soft her lips were. 
She held me tight as we stood there, our lips meeting again and again. I couldn't believe this was happening. That she was here with me after so long.
We pulled away, and I was drawn to those dark eyes I had always lost myself in. She seemed to be as lost in the past as I was.
Suddenly, something sparked in those dark pupils, and she stiffened.
No...No not now.. Please don't remember...
She pulled away, her gaze turned away from mine. Please, no..
"I have to go."
"Wait-" I reached for her hand but missed, and she rushed back through the doors. I went after her, but the doors had closed, blocking my view of her. I threw them open, the noise of thundering music and laughter ripped through the once quiet balcony. No one has had their fill of the night and the hall was filled with hundreds of bodies.
I looked around frantically trying to catch a glipse of her among the masses. I hadn't seen which direction she had gone and felt a sense of panic. I had to find her before--
There! She was closing in on the exit doors at the far end of the hall. I called out to her but my voice was drawn out by the music. My blood ran cold as she opened the doors and ran out. 
I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd, trying to get to her as fast as I could. Then finally I bolted through the doors, my eyes frantically searching the parking lot for her car. She had to have reached it by now.
I kept calling for her, hoping, praying that she'd wait.
To my far right I heard a car roar to life. I ran towards the row of cars where the sound originated, I could see her blue Toyota pulling out of a spot. "Stop!!"
She was accelerating, I called out her name again but she was soon out of my reach. I stood there, breathing hard, as she drove out of the lot.
My chest clenched. I let out a yell and punched the trunk of the nearest car. The car alarm went off, its loud whines ringing through the air, making my heart pound against my ribs. I ran both my hands over my face. 
I lost her... I lost her all over again...

Faellynn's Quest Log 46.3

Faellynn's Profile

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QUEST LOG 46.3

Stranglethorn Vale is such a beautiful place! It looks as if I've stepped onto a forgotten island. Mayne loves the area, but when we arrived she was clearly in need of rest. After accompanying me on quest after quest with barely any rest, then to take a zeppelin such a long way down to Stranglethorn, she was exhausted. The ride itself was peaceful enough for me, but Mayne is very anxious of heights. It's strange that a misbat of all creatures would be afraid, but she has never been more than a few feet off the ground so the altitude frightens her a bit.

          So I spoke with the local Stable Master and fortunately he had enough room for her and little Noah, an orphan blizzard bear cub I found in Undercity. I decided to take him with me, as he didn't seem to enjoy the company of the Undead. I decided to keep him stabled with Mayne, as he is still much too young to accompany me on quests. In a stable he will at least stay safe from any harm, and every moment I can I shall take him out to exercise.
          Mayne was grateful for a rest, and she seemed amused by the small cub's antics. They've grown quite fond of each other through these past few weeks. Meanwhile, I took Algar with me on my adventures in order to train and hone his skills further.
          The trolls here had asked for my assistance against certain groups of their kin that have sided with the Alliance (a fact that they, understandably, seemed very upset to share). The battles have proven to be most profitable for Algar and I. He's grown in strength, not as fast as Mayne, but at his own pace. However, he still has much to learn before he can handle the opponents Mayne can. 

---Faellynn

Faellynn's Quest Log 43.2

Faellynn's Profile

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QUEST LOG 43.2

Today was a fine day. Mayne and I have grown stronger over the past few nights, and so I led us into Stromgarde to find Prince Galen Trollbane and retrieve the last Sigil we needed. The prince was well protected as I imagined, but they could no longer intimidate us. I sent Mayne after the soldiers and syndicates while I took on Galen. It wasn't long at all before they fell before us, and the Sigil was ours. 

          We returned to Hammerfall and delivered our prize to Zengu, who then fused all four sigils into one. He told us we were now ready to open the tomb. Mayne and I hurried back to where the Prince once stood, and followed the path to the tomb. More soldiers stood guard, but they were weaker than the Prince and so our battles did not last long.

          I am happy to report that Mayne and I did indeed enter the tomb, and we retrieved the sword Trol'Kalar successfully. Zengu was overjoyed that the weapon that once slew so many of his kin, would know be the means to avenge them. I was honored that Mayne and I were of aid. 

          I'm also pleased to announce that I have finally heard back from Holku. He has decided to come and stay here at Hammerfall and do what he can to help the trolls as well. Once he arrived I took him about the Highlands so that he may be more familiarized with Arathi. His pet, Doomsday, has grown much stronger since the last time I'd seen him and I believe he will be a fine companion to Holku as Mayne is to me.

          It feels strange to leave, but I said my goodbyes to all of the trolls here. Tonight Mayne and I will travel back to Undercity, and tomorrow we shall board the zeppelin and travel to a new land called Stranglethorn Vale. I have been told I would find Ogres, Trolls, and other Blood Elves there that could use my assistance, and now that Holku can aid those in Hammerfall, I must continue my journey to help all that I can against the Alliance.

---Faellynn

School, WoW, and Writing

I'm supposed to be doing my History Writing assignment but I find myself procrastinating and distracting myself a LOT. ^^;; I'll get to it eventually. I've come to find that no one really reads this place other than maybe Jaunae and Dafne. Based on his reaction to Eagle Eye it seemed pretty clear that Yancy may have never read my review on here. Oh well. It was discouraging at first but I've decided that even if I am the only one reading this thing I'll still keep up with it. If anything it's a way to help me flex my creative writing muscles. I mean, sure, it would be great if I had a fraction of Yancy's traffic and feedback so that I could improve but that's alright. I'll just have to keep at it and self teach myself... or something.

Most of my procrastination was thanks to World of Warcraft. I've leveled up my Blood Elf, Faellynn, up to level 37-almost-38 with her pet Mayne following suit. And I'm happy to say that I think I'll be ready to write her first Quest Log in here very soon. ^_^ I've decided to title it Faellynn's Quest Log appropriately and then number it depending on her

 level. So the very first log I'll write will be numbered like this: Faellynn's Quest Log 37.1 where the first number is her level and the number after the decimal point will be the number of the entry. What I haven't decided on yet is that as she levels should I keep the second number increasing [[37.1, 37.2, 38.3]] or if I should start over [[37.1, 37.2, 38.1]]. So if anyone reads this just give me a heads up as to what will be less confusing and easier to follow. Keep in mind that I will always, of course, attach the appropriate labels to each post listing the game and character name.

I hope to get those WoW Logs up and running soon and on a semi-regular basis. Another thing I hope to be writing soon is the re-write for Mina; I'm starting to have doubts about whether she should discover her powers through a traumatic experience. Discovering powers will be hard enough but to have her deal with something that would scar anyone for life may be too much. Plus, since it might turn out to be my fist story, I don't want to bite off more than I can chew. So her discovery-story may be changing. I haven't decided yet. I'm also in the works of creating a new character to that series. I'm most excited to find a discovery-story for her because, so far, her power is my favorite. ^___^ Her name shall be Seraiah. But sadly, I have to get back to my school work. Classes end early December, so I can't slack off now.