Monday, December 27, 2004

D & D !

I've been reading my new DM's guide, and I'm putting together my first campaign. It's gonna be awesome. It's about transdimensional pirates. Well, actually, it's about regular pirates who will end up trapped on another plane - one entirely of my own design. They adventure with go through several planes - some modified from existing D & D cosmology, and some entirely new. WIth new planes you literally get to change all the rules - time, the laws of physics, it's all mutable. Plus a little thing called Wild Magic...
It's sort of like D & D meets Sliders - probably a lot like that, since both change casts several times throughout their run. Anyway, I've got lots of ideas. All I need is a good group - either my current one when we finish Paul's campaign or a new group of people.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Revival - Chapter 6: Digesting the information.

My initial reaction was just sort of a numb shock. I didn't say anything. I just kind of stared at the picture, wishing it wasn't there. At first it was just the shock of discovering that my Mother was a criminal. Then I realized it also meant she was probably alive. It hadn't yet sunk in that if my mother had dragon blood, I, by extension, also had it. I was taking it one step at a time.
"You ok?" asked Mora.
"Fine," I said, "I'm fine," I didn't want it to get out that my mother was in prison, or that she was a Draconic - they weren't exactly loved by the public right now, what with DOMA and all. Still, I wanted a closer look.
"Can I have a copy of this?" I asked.
"Sure," she answered, "I can get another. I saved it all on to a disc. Why do you want one?"
I am terrible at impromptu lying. I tried to think of a convincing reason, but my imagination failed me. So I told a modified version of the truth.
"She looks familiar," I said, "We might be related, I'd like to find out,"
"If you're related, that'd make you part dragon, wouldn't it?" Mora said, "That'd be sweet!"
That's when it hit me. I was part dragon. If this got out, it could ruin me. Being a white male, I didn't have much experience being discriminated against, and I wasn't eager for that to change. People don't like Draconics. It could keep me out of colleges, work places, any government job... it was just a terrifying prospect to me at the time.
"What do you mean sweet?" I asked. "People hating you, not letting you do things because of something you have no control over, why would that be cool?!"
"Because," answered Mora, "You'd be able to shape change and burn people's houses down if they mistreated you. Despite what some baptist's say, gay people can't do that,"
"Only if I actually go Draconic!" I answered.
"And why wouldn't you?" she asked, "I mean, if you were gonna get the bad part anyway, why not get the benefit's too?"
"Because they put you in Jail!" I answered, "Yes, being a half-dragon sucks, but all they can do is discriminate against you in small places. If you go Draconic, you don't even need to commit a crime. You have no rights,"
"You don't think being able to fly and breathe fire is worth the persecution?" She asked.
"Not really," I answered truthfully.
"Well, all I know is liking women gets me what half-dragons get - all the discrimination with none of the super-powers - and it's not worth it. If I had a choice, I'd take being a Draconic any day,"
"It doesn't matter," I lied. "We're probably not related anyway,"
"Too bad," she answered.
I went back to looking at he paper. There wasn't a huge amount of information on my mother. Her classification was listed as silver. Height: 5' 8 (human); 6'6 (draconic), Weight: 140.
Member of the influential Brimmer family. Married, two children. Suspected leader of the Northern regional cell of the MFA. Has been involved in at least two robberies and one assasination. Currently being held at the Camelot facility.
I desperately wanted to be able to click on that link. My mother, a cell leader for the MFA? Why had this been kept from me? I wanted to find out. I thought about asking my father, but I didn't know how he'd react. There was really only one person I could trust with this, and I decided to try and get in touch with her when I got home.
Just then Zhong approached us, having somehow escaped her side of the cafeteria. That was good. I needed a distraction.
"Zhong!" I called. She looked startled, then saw me and wandered over.
"We need to use your house for plotting," I said, "Is that cool?"
"Tonight?" she asked, "No. My parents are entertaining guests. Some of my dad's investors, very important. Tomorrow good?"
"It'll do," I answered.
"Is that your mother?" asked Zhong, pointing to the papers.
Zhong had been to my house enough times to have seen the pictures, and she had a notoriously photographic memory. So much for keeping this secret. I had to try though.
"No, the resemblance is striking, though, isn't it?" I lied.
"Yes," answered Zhong sarcastically, taking the paper, "And with the same name, too. How unlikely is that?"
"Wait a minute," said Mora, "Your mother? So we weren't talking hypotheticals a minute ago! You're actually a -"
"Shut up!" I said. I lowered my voice, "Guys, seriously, we have to keep this low profile. If it get's out, it could ruin my chances of getting into a good college or getting a good job. I could end up in prison. This isn't a joke,"
"Your secret's safe with me," said Mora, "But I would so start trying to develop your powers,"
"No," I said.
"What a waste," she answered.
"Is this what we're plotting about?" asked Zhong.
"No. It's just something silly. But I'd prefer you not tell anyone about this - even Jason and Fay. Is that alright?" I asked hopefully.
"Don't worry," said Zhong, "I'm good at keeping secrets. I've been holding on to some for years now,"
"Good," I answered, "I need time to figure this out. It might not even be real,"
"Ok," answered Zhong. "I'll see you tomorrow then, no?"
"Yeah," I answered, "See you then."
The bell rang, and we got up to leave. All the way home I went over all this in my head - what I'd do when they came for me, why they hadn't already - I mean they had have my name in a book somewhere, didn't they? I wonderted if I could really trust Mora. And I wondered if my mother really was still alive in some cell somewhere. I didn't know where the answers to these questions were, but I knew where I was going to start looking. I decided to put it out of my head for a while and think about stealing a motorcycle.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Revival - Chapter 5: A familiar face

The first step of planning the heist was, of course, planning how to plan the heist. Jason and Fay's house, our favored spot for scheming, was also the home of those against whom we were scheming, and therefore unusable. My house was a terrible scheming spot, namely due to a lack of good food. Scheming just isn't the same with out Root Beer and Cheetos. We resolved to ask Zhong about it next time one of us saw her, shrimp chips being an acceptable ethnic alternative to the Cheetos. That was really all we had time to resolve before the lunch bell rang.
My next period was study hall with Mora. Zhong was confined to the other side of the cafeteria by evil Nazi woman, but occasionally managed to wander over on false pretenses. Today Mora was pouring over a rather large document she'd printed off the internet.
"What's that?" I asked, with the sort of half- interest I reserved for my dealings with Mora.
"My friend hacked these from the FBI site," she answered. She was probably lying, but I thought I'd indulge her. "They're records of all the known Draconics and half-dragons with ties to the twin cities area," She looked at it for a minute. "A through I," she added.
"Cool," I said.
"Yeah, theres a lot more than you'd think. Let's see..." she started reading, "Name: Thadius Hawkins. Status: Missing, presumed dead. Last seen October 23rd, 2002. Classification: Blue. You know how these work?"
"How what work?"
"Classifications. See, there are a bunch of different kinds of Draconics, each with different powers and skills. It's all super classified but I've figured out some stuff. Black is the least dangerous. The most dangerous is either gold or silver, I think. You generally don't want to cross any that are metallic sounding, though,"
"What's the difference?" I asked. I was actually somewhat interested at this point.
"Oh, you know," she answered. "Size, power, if they can fly, if they can breath fire or anything, that kinda stuff. Some types also tend to folow weird codes,"
"Like what?" I asked.
"Well, the Asian ones follow some kinda code of honor, and the European ones don't have anything like that. They think of themselves like Samurai or something. I don't know much about it,"
"Samurai are Japanese," I said. "Dragons are Chinese,"
"Whatever," she answered, then went back to reading.
She read in silence for a while, then looked up.
"Hey," she said, "Brimmer. Any relation?"
She held up the picture. The last time I'd seen that face in person I was three months old, but I'd memorized the picture. The text confirmed it. Name: Lisa Brimmer. Status: Captured, January 13th, 1989.

Saturday, December 18, 2004

Revival - Chapter 4: Harvey

Ok, perhaps I should explain about Harvey. Jason and Fay's grandparents, Samuel and Samantha Anderson (people called them Sammy & Sammy), were a little bit crazy. When they were in their late sixties, about eleven years ago, Sam found out he had a brain tumor and was going to die in a few months. So he decided, since he had nothing to lose, he would go on a motorcycle trip zig-zagging across the entire U.S., visiting every state along the way. Sammy decided she would go with him - it would be like a second honey moon. So they went off for their last hurrah. Along the way they sent fifty post cards to their grandkids - Fay keeps them all in a little box. I've read them. They're very funny. Sam was quite the character. In them he refers to the motorcycle as "Harvey" - Harvey the Harley.
He died two days after he got home. About two years ago, Sammy died. In her will she left "Harvey" to Jason and Fay. They were thrilled to hear this - their parents were less enthusiastic. They said the thing was a death trap, and neither of their children was getting on it. After months of convincing, they finally conceded to let Jason take classes and get a motorcycle license. For a while he drove Harvey around and he was happy. Then one day he very nearly got in a fatal accident. His parents locked up Harvey and forbid him to ride it again until he was eighteen.
Jason had talked about stealing Harvey many times since then, but he had never worked up the guts to actually do it. I figured this time would be the same. I was wrong.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Revival - Chapter 3: All's fair in Love and War

As close as they were, Jason and Fay were about as different as a brother and sister can be. Jason was a few inches taller than me and fairly well-built, but liked to make himself as small as possible. Fay, a diminutive 4'10", filled the room with her personality. She flirted incessantly with everyone, but had no desire for a boyfriend (or a girlfriend for that matter, though people did talk). I've never met anyone more confident in their own attractiveness - which made her all the more attractive. I never really felt that way about her, but I can't say I never thought about it.
Jason, on the other hand, had until a few months ago had trouble talking to anyone he didn't know. He seemed to have gotten over that and was now hopelessly trying to romance a very attractive young woman with whom he had no chance whatsoever. What was amusing was the zeal he put into it. It was as if instead of creeping out of his shell like most shy people do, he had done a complete one-eighty into being a vibrant dynamic personality. He had lost all inhibitions and no longer cared what anyone thought about him. So far in his quest to win her heart had had tried everything from making her a new origami animal every day for a month to writing a song in four part harmony and mustering a quartet to sing outside her window. The girl, her name was Marissa, was either incredibly dense or just had a cruel sense of humor- she appeared to be totally oblivious.
Anyway, Fay and Jason were already sitting at the lunch table when I got my tray. Jason was looking, as always, across the table to where Marissa was sitting talking to her friends.
"How's it going?" I asked him
He sighed plaintively. "Nothing's working," he said eventually, "I've tried gifts, singing, quoting the Bard... even baking cookies. No luck,"
"Everything short of, you know, asking her out," answered his sister.
"Not my style," he answered, "I mean, eventually, of course, but first I have to win her over. She'd never say yes now,"
"How do you know if you haven't tried?" I asked.
"If I try and she says no," he explained, "I'll have to try again later, and asking for a second date after you've been rejected is just pathetic,"
"And following her down the hallway reading sonnets isn't?" asked Fay.
"I should go on a quest for her," said Jason suddenly, ignoring his sister, "Too bad there's no more dragons to slay,"
"Half-Dragons?" I suggested.
"Look," Fay cut in, "Jason, here's your problem. Well, one of many problems. Every attempt you've made has been anywhere from a few decades to a few centuries out of date. If you want a quest that will impress her, you need something modern,"
"That's it!" cried Jason suddenly, as if an idea had coming flying from the sky like a meteor and hit him in the back of the head, "I'm going to steal Harvey!"

Physical and mental models

When I write, I like to be able to envision things as they happen. To do that, I usually have to have a clear idea of what a character looks like. So when I invent a character, I like to have to models for him or her - a physical model and a mental model. They have nothing to do with each other. For instance, Jason and Fay Anderson, characters you're going to meet soon, are physically modeled off of Marten and Lara (with some minor changes, like red hair). Their personalities, however, are a mix of Paul and Marten, but mostly Tyler for Jason and a mix of Katie O'brien and Catie Phillabaum for Fay. Skyler has curly hair, but looks sort of like me otherwise. His personality is mostly mine, since he is the narrator. Mora is modeled off of Amanda Turner in some ways, but her personality isn't coming out how I wanted. The rest of the key characters are still abstract and will likely remain so for some time. This is in lieu of an update - I won't publish it until it's good enough, and this one clearly needs something, so bear with me. In a couple of days maybe.

Friday, December 03, 2004

Revival - Chapter 2: My Life Before

Aside from a few isolated events that were lost on me at the time, the trouble really started when I was 16. The year was 2004, and President Chaparral had just been reelected. Most Americans pointed to DOMA, the Dissipation of Magic Act, as the main reason they elected him. With the Republicans pushing to amend the constitution to allow them to lock up suspected part-dragons and other semi-magical creatures, as well as cutting off government funding to arcane research, anti-magic sentiment was polarizing the nation.
I personally didn't care much either way. As far as I knew I didn't know any part-humans, and there were so few left I thought the whole thing was blown way out of proportion. We needed to have elected a president based on bigger issues, like the brewing war in China. But really politics weren't much more than a hobby for me then, I was just trying to get through school and learn to drive.
My constant companions throughout high school were Jason Anderson and his little sister, Fay. Jason was my age, Fay was a year younger, and the three of us were inseperable. I probably spent as much if not more time at the Anderson home as I did at my own. The fourth member of our little quartet was Fay's best friend, Zhong Hua. Her parents had moved here from China before the first war. I had acquaintances besides these three, but none were close friends, with one possible exception who I'll get to in a minute. For the most part I was happy, though I struggled a little with the things all teenagers do - schoolwork, relationships, stuff that seems important at the time - until you find out what important really means.
The only other person I spent any amount of time with was a girl by the name of Mora Bridges. We met because we were seated in study hall together, the seating arrangments being alphabetical. Mora was the ultimate non-conformist, which made her an interesting person to be around. At first glance she looked like the classic, angsty lesbian goth girl. But beyond that first impression was a much deeper personality, something I discovered as we had plenty of time to talk in study hall. She was interested in various occult things - on a purely scholarly level, of course, I doubt she really believed all of it, though it was hard to say sometimes. But she'd show me things in books, and through her I learned a lot of seemingly useless trivia about the Arcane age.
Now as most of you probably know, there's a huge amount of controversy over the historical accuracy of accounts of the Arcane age. Scores of Christians have tried to revise history to eliminate magic altogether, with some degree of success. Lots of respectable people believe Elves were nothing more than exagerations of stories told by aristocracies to inspire respect and awe, or that Orcs were an earlier stage of human evolution. Mora believed that both sides were revising history - that Elves, rather than the imposing overlords history made them out to be, had been an enlightened, benevolent race who had helped humans get to where they were today, and that Conner Macer was a mass-murderer rather than the savior of the human race, and that he meant for the Vampires to go bad. I didn't believe a word of it - I mean how could anyone? - but arguing with Mora was thoroughly pointless, so I mostly just nodded and listened to her far-flung conspiracy theories with feigned interest. If I known what I know now, I probably would have paid more attention.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Revival - Chapter 1: Skyler Woods Brimmer

Where does a story begin? Aside from the creation narrative in the Bible, no story really starts where the narrative does - they tend to have at least a little background. Even if a story begins with the birth of the main character, there are still older characters whose early life and background will be alluded to, and thus an earlier part of the story remains untold. My story begins more than ten thousand years before I was born - but I'm a little sketchy on the details of that part. So I'm going to start at the earliest part where I can have some degree of accuracy, about a hundred and seventy years ago.
In 1856 in the town of Riverview, Indiana, population two hundred some, a stranger showed up. His name was Skyler Woods Brimmer. Skyler had no parents, and no family history to speak of - he said he was found by his mother on her doorstep when he was a baby. The woman who had raised him, he maintained, had lived alone, and she had just died, so he had come to Riverview to seek his fortune. Of course, none of this was true, but they had no reason to doubt it, so they all believed him. Hoosiers are simple folk, not used to deception, and ready to accept anyone who's willing to work hard and support themselves.
Skyler was well-liked by all of his neighbors, and set about making a life for himself. Four or five years later he got married. His wife was pregnant with his first son when the war broke out. Most of the men in the town signed up to fight on one side or the other, but Skyler had no desire to fight. Pressured by his friends, though, he eventually gave in. He fought with distinction but was put on the front lines at the battle of Shiloh. As his body was never recovered, he was proclaimed MIA, but his wife pretty much gave up hope when she heard the news. She named the boy Skyler Woods Brimmer Jr.
The second Skyler Woods Brimmer lived a fairly normal life, had two sons and three daughters, though what befell his daughters is information I've been unable to acquire. His second son died in a fire at the age of fourteen, His first son he named Skyler Woods Brimmer III, and the name has been passed down ever since. Interestingly enough, only one male heir from each generation has survived - any boys not named Skyler Woods tended to perish at an early age. In 1955, Skyler Woods Brimmer V gave birth to a daughter, Lisa Brimmer, my mother. Number five had the unfortunate distinction of being the first not to bear a son to carry on the name, though he did have three daughters. He was rather distraught about this fact most of his life, and it was his dying wish that Lisa name her son Skyler Woods Brimmer.
In 1983 Lisa married Wallace Tamsworth, a funeral parlor owner from Minnesota. When she married him, she insisted that their first son be named after her father, to honor his wishes. He found her obsession a little eccentric, but he was in love with her, so he agreed. They first gave birth to a daughter, my sister Katherine Tamsworth, and then 3 years later to me, Skyler Woods Brimmer VI. Three months later my mother disappeared. My father remarried a few years later, but it left me in the difficult position of being the only member of my family with my last name. Even more difficult when I learned the import of that name.
Skyler Woods Brimmer the first was no ordinary man. He passed on certain... talents to his descendants, and with them a name both famous and infamous in circles most people don't even know exist. I would discover all this eventually. But at the time, all it was was a long, cumbersome name, inherited from a woman I never got a chance to meet. I was an ordinary kid, with an ordinary life. But all that was about to change.

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

The Muse Strikes Back

Funny about muses - they don't care about schedules. Mine is especially inconsiderate - she waits until I have two papers, a Physics study guide, a virtual fieldtrip, and armfuls of music to learn for choir, not to mention two half-way decent stories already going, to drop what may prove the greatest story idea I ever get in my lap. It's horribly complex, drawn from such diverse influences as D & D, Harry Potter, X-men, and Buffy. But it's so good. And it's evolving very quickly. So just a warning - I'm probably going to drop the pixie story for a little while to pick this up. After that I'll try and run the two concurrently for a while. I think the setting and pacing of this story is sufficiently different from that one that it will work.
The idea is difficult to put into just a few words, but the best word to describe it is epic. It's a bizarre take on magic and a number of fantasy ideas, set in what's basically the here and now, only... different. Sort of like the world of Jasper Fforde in the Thursday Next series, just in as much as it's our world, if- (insert hypotheticals here). But everything else is in tact. Basically, just real enough that people can relate to it, while being out there enough that people go "wow, this is really different," I don't know how to better explain it. The hypothetical in question involves half-dragons. This story will possibly start this weekend, and will jump right into the narrative with minimal exposition, probably less than I usually have.

P.S. I already have a working title!

Friday, November 26, 2004

I suck at titles

As he flew off in search of their quarry, Brazik was thinking about the happenings of the morning. He was horribly confused by Simile's behavior. He wasn't in love with her, not by any stretch of the word. In fact he'd been thinking about breaking it off with her the previous night. But no girl had ever given up an opportunity to spend more time with him before, and because it had never happened, he had assumed it to be impossible. He was going over what, in his mind, seemed to be the two options - Simile was crazy, or she was a lesbian. He'd been trying to reconcile one of these options with what he knew of her when the squid incident took place. That's when a new idea came to him (a rare event in the life of someone like Brazik). Maybe he wasn't being manly enough. After all, he didn't step in and try to tackle the squid. He'd just been too startled to think about it. This, he reasoned, must be why Simile would want to spend less time with me. I must show her how tough I am. The fact that the supposed cause came after the supposed effect did not matter to Brazik. When present with a problem, he tended to choose the situation with the simplest solution, even if it had obvious logical flaws. This is what was going through Brazik's mind when Poji alerted the others to his discovery.
"D-D-D-Down there!" he let out.
"Found one?" asked Brazik.
"N-n-no, b-b-but, l-l-l-look,"He pointed down. Four creatures were marching, carrying something between them. A fifth rode in front, on some sort of giant cat. They looked sort of like a cross between a man and an Armidillo. They were heavily armored with long tails ending in spike-balls. They were carrying pikes, and had swords at their sides.
"Orks?" asked Brazik
"Orks are more reptilian," answered Tether, "And they're too tall to be goblinoids. I can't recall ever studying a creature like that,"
(Tether had never been outside the colony any more than the others, but he was an avid reader and had amassed far more knowledge of the world than most pixie's his age)
"Who cares?" asked Isa, "They're not our problem,"
Simile was staring at what they were carrying between them. Lying on a make-shift litter, still unconscious, was the little girl.
"No," she answered, "It's mine,"
And with that she dove down towards them.

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

War on Love

Screw the war on terror. Someone needs to start a war on love. It's a powerful, destructive force that needs to be stopped. It's kind of like a drug. Sure, it makes you happy while you're on it, but then you get withdrawal symptoms and you go crazy. I got addicted to Ashley. I haven't had her for three months and I think I'm going to go crazy.
I need help. I don't need Amy to be out of town for a week. Seeing her keeps me from spiraling into madness. And God help William if I complete that spiral, because right now a huge part of me wants to make him suffer for this, and I'm afraid of that part winning over.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Regaining sanity

I kinda flew off the handle there. Just to make it clear to everyone, I am not going to abandon Amy and go on a hopeless quest to win back Ashley, nor am I going to stalk anyone. I still don't know what I am going to do, but it definately won't be that. Just wanted to put that in writing so ya'll could hold me to it.
Amy is really a remarkable girl, and I'm going to stick with her through this. Anything less would just make things worse.

Monday, November 22, 2004

Now I'm upset again. I was kinda hoping she was worried about me. I worried about her when she was crying over me. It killed me to see her like that. Now I'm there, and she's fine with it. That kinda pisses me off.

Sunday, November 21, 2004

Well, cleaning my room to get mind off things was a monumentily stupid idea. Every object I picked up had some memory associated with it. I couldn't stand it. It'll have to get done another time.

Saturday, November 20, 2004


This'll be my fifth post in two days, but I can only hope it comes at the end of it all, as a sort of an after thought. Feelings are like a river. If you just let them flow, they might flood every so often but it'll be slow and you'll be able to handle it. But if you try to damn them up, then eventually the pressure will become so great the damn breaks, and water comes gushing in. Last night the damn burst. The damage was extensive. Today I tried my best to clean it up. All I can say is I've learned something very valuable from all this, and I'm not likely to forget it anytime soon.
You know what I said about that one ray of hope? Well, she's gone too now. It's all darkness. I've screwed up my life so completely there is no redemption, and everyone is now injured by my stupidity. I'm running out of friends.

Friday, November 19, 2004

Explanatory rant

Why am I depressed? Nothing else is going wrong; everything is going great. I just had a great show. And I didn't even have an hour to be happy before she had to step in and shove reality in my face. Why the hell can't I just LET HER GO?!!!

I've got to have the worst timing of anyone. I could have felt this way before we broke up, or during the weeks she was crying over me, or anytime between then and when she started dating William, and it actually would have done some good. Now, it's just useless emotion drivng me slowly insane. And I can't do a thing about it. And I can't even get into another relationship for fear of this happening again. I don't need this right now. I'm such an idiot!

I need to cuss.


Somehow I don't feel any better.

Love sucks

Happy happy happy! happy happy happy! sad.

hellfire and damnation.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Almost got a title..really

For a time, no one moved. Everyone just stared in silence at the spot where the squid had been. After a while, Brazik decided to end it. Having no idea what had just happened, he chose to ignore it.
"Well," he said, "I think we're short a tent. It'll be tight, all five of us sharing one, but we can make do. Let's gather up the fabric and the rest of the provision's and get going,"
Most of the others seemed to come out of the trance-like state and started moving about, following his instructions. Isa, however, just sat there.
"What about breakfast?" asked Poji after a while. The others agreed and they sat down to eat before they left. Isa slowly stood up and walked over to join them. The shock of being attacked had not yet worn off of her. They ate in silence for a while. This made Brazik uncomfortable, so he decided to say something.
"You know what our objective looks like," he said. "We agreed that a squirrel or a badger, though powerful, would be too easy. As you all know, we've decided to go after a Phidgeon*,"
"We know all this," said Tether. "The question is where to find one. We've seen no sign of them since the flock we past yesterday afternoon. Many have already migrated south. I fear we may have waited too long."
"Nonsense," answered Simile, "It's barely Arkatz.** It's not nearly cold enough to have driven them away,"
"I'm confident we'll find one," assured the leader, "But when we do, we'll have to act fast to restrain it. Tether will attempt to get a harness onto it it, while Simile, Isa, and Poji try to rope it's feet. I will have the most dangerous job, attempting to clamp shut it's beak so it cant burn us,"
"My hero," intoned Simile sarcastically.
They finished their fruit and lifted off through the canopy.
*A mere nuisance to the larger races, these large birds, cousins of the Pheonix, often try to roost in pixie colonies, starting dangerous fires in the process.
**The 6th month of the 8 month pixie year.

Thursday, November 11, 2004

Pixie rescaling

For story purpusoses, I'm making an adjustment to my background information. The Pixies are being rescaled slightly. The base height is now about 9 centimeters. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Bonus pixie update! The story finally gets interesting!

As Simile approached the camp, two things about the girl at the orchard still bothered her. The mystery of her appearance and attire rested heavily on her mind, along with a mix of guilt and anxiety for leaving her unconscious in the forest. She was mulling over this as Brazik flew up to meet her.
"Good morning, sweetheart" he said in his deep, husky voice. His unusually large wings were beating furiously to keep his Bulky, muscular body in the air. He moved forward to try to kiss her, but she darted backwards, then up and over his hear, turning around as she passed him, then flying backwards towards the ground. When he got done being confused, he turned around towards her.
"What was that for, baby?" he asked
"You're getting a little to comfortable with me," she answered, "I'm cutting you off,"
He looked stunned.
"Not forever," she continued, "Just till we finish the ceremony. Consider it an incentive," she turned around to make her landing, then looked over her shoulder at him.
"And the gentlemanly thing," she finished, "Would've been to offer to help with the bags. After all, I did get us breakfast,"
She turned and walked toward the camp, and Brazik walked behind her. Poji was already sitting out side the other tent, and Tether exited it just as they approached.
"Rashez*, Simile!" he said as he saw them.
"He smiles indeed," she answered traditionally.
"What's for breakfast?" asked Poji
"Crab-apples," answered the young woman. "Why aren't the tent's up?" she asked.
"Folding the tent with Isa inside would probably be a bad idea," answered Tether
"Well why isn't she up? She's had her chance to sleep in already," she set down the bag of apples and marched into the tent.
Isa was inside, braiding her hair and humming softly to herself.
"Isa!" said Simile as she entered. "We're not going to a party, we're going hunting. I'm sure the rodents will forgive you if you don't look your prettiest. Get out of the tent now,"
"Well aren't we the bossy one today?" asked Isa. "Someone didn't get enough sleep today. Or did you have a fight with your Omatzi?"
"I'm not kidding Isa. We have a lot of work to do, and I, for one, am looking forward to the initiation. Your hair can wait,"
"You're just jealous cause you don't have any," she said. Simile's turquoise hair was close cropped, growing out only slightly in the back,"
"I like it that way," she answered. "It doesn't get in the way, and unlike yours, it's ready to go when I wake up. Get moving now if you want breakfast," she walked out.
"Tether," she said, "I've been thinking about your idea, and I've decided I like it,"
"What?" asked the other.
Simile bent down and put her hand on one of the tent stakes, motioning the others to do the same. Tether immediately got it. The other two puzzled for a while, then bent down. Simile counted on her fingers. 1...2...3
They pulled up their stakes. The tent collapsed. At the same moment, beam of purple light shot out of Simile's forehead into the tent. Isa screamed.
There were two lumps in the fabric of the tent. One was pixie shaped, definitely Isa. The other appeared to have tentacles and a very large head, and soon ripped through the fabric of the tent. The tentacles had blades on them. It looked like a squid with scimitars. It raised one over Isa's cowering form.
"No!" yelled Simile. To her amazement, the creature stopped, and lowered it's blade, then turned to look at her. The others were staring in amazement.
for a long time, nothing happened.
Simile looked at the squid.
The Squid looked at Simile.
Everyone else looked at the scene with disbelief.
And then the squid vanished.

*Ancient pixie greeting, shortened form of Rashez smile on you. Rashez was either a diety or a great king, no one really knows.

**deragatory term for a lover.

Monday, November 08, 2004

The untitled first Doom pixie story, part iii (of part I)

No novel means time to work on pixies. That's a good thing for you.

Back at the camp, Tether was just waking up. Having taken first watch, he had gotten to bed pretty late, and he considered it acceptable to sleep in a little, especially since Simile had volunteered for breakfast duty. Expecting to see his rotund friend, Poji, on the other side of the tent, he was pleased, if a bit confused, to see Isa lying there instead. She had shuffled her blanket down to her feet and was lying on her side facing him, snoring softly, with a gentle contented look. A red-orange night shirt-like garment hung loosely around her sleeping blue form, and her luxuriant dark green hair fell over her shoulders. She was not quite as shapely as Simile, Tether mused, but she was very beautiful in her own right. At least, while she was asleep.
His ponderance was interupted by Poji entering the tent.
"What are you doing up?" asked Tether, "I thought she had third watch"
"I thought so too," said the boy.
"Well,, why didn't you wake her then?" asked the other
"I was.. " Poji began. He stopped, unable to think of a convincing excuse. "H-h-how is it m-m-my fault?" he asked eventually. "Sh-She should have been up,"
"Then wake her," said Tether. He turned to leave.
"W-why don't you?" asked Poji.
"You had the last watch, you wake her,"
By this time, Isa has started to stir. she turned overand stretched then slowly sat up.
'What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"J-j-just after sunup-p," said Poji, angrily "L-longg past you're w-watch,"
"I'm sorry," she said sweetly, "I must have overslept. I need my beauty sleep every so often. Thank you for taking my watch for me,"
Her sweet voices, pitched like a child's, melted the look of rage from Poji's face. "I-it was n-no problem," he said.
Isa stood up and took her hunting clothes off of the rack. "Would you too mind waiting outside? A girl needs her privacy,"
"O-of course," said Poji. He left back through the tent flap.
"May I equip myself first?" asked Tether, " I have a feeling we'll be moving out pretty quick after breakfast,"
"You can stay," said Isa, "I really just needed to get rid of Poji. I don't enjoy being gawked at,"
But you have to admit," pointed out Tether, " His attraction to you has it's advantages. You probably got more sleep last night than anyone else. I'm worried he can only work double shifts for so long, though"
"You think I did that on purpose?" asked the girl
"I didn't say that,"
"I'm not trying to take advantage of the poor boy," she responded.
"Good" said Tether. He collected the rest of his things and headed out the door.

That's four out of five main characters somewhat developed, and we're almost ready to start a plot. Please tell me what you think.

Sunday, November 07, 2004

I'm better now. Still not great, but better. I've taken a breather and I'm gonna be ok. I thank most of you for your support.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

I hate November

Not much else to say. It's easily the worst months of the year, and this one is particularly bad. Less than a week into it I've gotten enough sleep one day out of those five, our nation re-eleected one of it's worst presidents ever, I've had more homework than I can remember having ever, and I realized that I still have feelings for Ashley, which I'm trying to get over for William's sake. And I'm taking it all out on Evan, which really probably isn't fair, but I can't really help it and it's sort of his own fault. Today I screwed up a lab in physics and Mrs. Dingman yelled at me in Chamber, because I was unfocused, because I'm not getting enough sleep. I clearly don't have time to write a novel.
The one ray of hope in this nightmare of a week has been Amy. And even she I'm a little uncertain about. I'm thinking about quiting Chamber choir.
And yes Evie, I'm comfortable posting all this here because I'm 90% certain you're the only one still reading it.

Sunday, October 31, 2004

Scent of a woman

It's the smell, dammit.

Sight's and sounds can evoke memories of events. Only smells can evoke memories of feelings. Not real feelings, but memories vivid enough that they feel real. Ashley's house has a very distinctive smell. It's probably the smell of all the animals carrying out their lives, but to me, it's the smell of everything I've had with her. It's the smell I can't stand. If it weren't for that smell, there wouldn't be a problem. As it is, it was like, the most akward party ever. All because of the smell of a relationship. It's interesting, really. You don't think of smells like that normally.

Best CD ever

I've just burned the best CD ever. It's called Broadway Lover's Pizza, and it contains:

1. I Need to Know - from Jekyll and Hyde
2. God Save the People - from Godspell
3. Man of La Mancha - from Man of La Mancha
4. Prayer - from Scarlett Pimpernel
5. Heaven on their Minds - from Jesus Christ Superstar
6. Falcon in the Dive - from Scarlett Pimpernel
7.As Good as You - from Jane Eyre
8. Confrontation - from Les Miserables
9. The World Has Gone Insane - from Jekyll and Hyde
10. Defying Gravity - from Wicked
11. Alas for You - from Godspell
12. She Cries - from Songs for a New World
13. To Each his Dulcinea - from Man of La Mancha
14. No Good Deed - from Wicked
15. Aldonza - from Man of La Mancha
16. Farewell Good Angel - From Jane Eyre
17. Flying Home - from Songs for a New World
18. Gethsemane - from Jesus Christ Superstar
19. Javert's Suicide - from Les Miserables
20. Empty Chairs at Empty Tables - from Les Miserables
21. The Impossible Dream - from Man of La Mancha

Yes Man of La Mancha has about a 4th of the songs. That's because it's quite possibly the best musical ever. I almost put Knight of the Woeful Countenance on there too. Awesomest CD yet.

Friday, October 29, 2004

Pimpin' my brother's site

Hey y'all. Read What Kind of Life Has it Been? . It's really insightful and funny.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

New alphabet

The current alphabet makes no sense, so it's high time we made some changes. First off, C is useless - all it's sounds can be madeby s or k, so out it goes. And don't say "What about ch?". Obviously that will be it's own letter, as will th and sh. We also need to scrap x - we can replace it with ks or z whenever it's needed. If we don't just replace q with kw, we should at least make qu one letter, since q never appears by itself. Finally, the new alphabet should be arranged by usage, and all words respelled.
Changes should begin immediatly, begining with the elimination of that troublesome c. I apologize if you have one of the offending letters in your name, as I know this will be diffikult for you. We'll do what we kan to help out.

Sunday, October 17, 2004

still title-less part I continues

Above the top layer of leaves, Simile began to get her bearings. The mountain was just to the west of her, so it would be easy enough for her to retrace the path they'd taken before. She was looking for a grove of fruit trees they'd passed the previous day. A few crab apples would be a good enough breakfast to get them started today. Once she's worked out the way they'd gone, she zoomed off in search of the trees. She spotted them a few minutes later and headed back down through the foliage.
Below, however, was a bit of a complication. A young girl was standing at the foot of the tree trying to scramble up it. As a rule, Doom pixies were to avoid contact with the big people unless it was necessary. Simile puzzled over this for a while and decided just to wait until she left. Hiding behind a leaf, she watched the young girl struggle with the tree.
She couldn't have been more than eight years old. As with many young children, it was hard to tell if she was human or elfish, but since the elf population was so small in this area, Simile assumed the former. One thing was certain though; she was not attired for tree climbing. She was wearing an ornately patterned green dress with silver trim, identifying her as nobility. This came as a bit of a shock to Simile since, in her understanding the humans who lived nearby had no aristocracy. The only elves in the forest were wood elves, who would never wear such a costume; they detested gold and silver, and found dresses far too restricting. Thus what a girl so attired would be doing in this forest was a bit of a mystery.
She was having quite the time of it, trying to climb the tree in that dress. Eventually, she succeeded in getting to the lowest branch. Standing on it, she reached for one of the few ripe apples on the tree, but it was too far away and she nearly fell. So she struggled up to the next highest branch, but now the apple was out of her grasp. This was taking longer than Simile had expected, and realizing the girl's intentions, she decided to speed things up a bit. She spotted a ripe apple on one of the highest branches and moved towards it. Grabbing it at the stem, she succeeded in yanking it off of the tree. It was heavy, but she could manage it. With the apple, nearly her size, in her arms, she flew to wear she was directly above the girl and dropped it. The girl reached out for the falling apple, lost her balance, and tumbled out of the tree.
She was unconscious when she hit the ground. Simile flew towards her, horrified. She breathed a sigh of relief as she realized the girl was still breathing. She'd probably wake up with nothing more then a nasty headache. Simile certainly hoped so. She felt kind of bad for the girl, but she was a big person, even if she was only a child. She'd be alright. Since there was nothing else she could do, Simile picked her crab apples and headed back towards camp.

Saturday, October 16, 2004

If any of you by some chance read my last post and are wondering why I deleted it, suffice it to say that the person reffered to in it unexpectedly started reading this blog. if you didn't see said post, don't trouble yourself about it.

Friday, October 15, 2004

What a lot of people would refer to as love (It's not love, but I'm not sure what to call it) has one peculiar consequence. It can be eleven o'clock at night and I can have no hope of getting my homework done, and it will ruin my GPA, and I honestly don't care, because the intervening time I spent with that person was so incredible, and because I know I'll see her again tomorrow. This sudden sense of apathy maybe seems like a bad thing because of what you're left with when it ends, but from where I'm standing, it just seems like a good deal all around. Cause if it weren't for her, I'd be really really miserable right now. And despite all my reasons to be miserable, I'm still ecstatic. I should also note that I'm horribly sleep-deprived, ,which tends to heighten such feelings, and I will probably regret posting this for some reason, but it's that uncontainable sort of exitement that I'm talking about. I know she doesn't read my blog, and if she does, well, I don't mind her seeing this. If nothing else it'll be a huge self-esteem boost. You can call me childish, rash, or immature, but I'm happier now than I've been in a long time.

Sunday, October 10, 2004

The Doom Pixie Chronicles: Part I

Ok, here goes. No title for this story yet, cause I haven't thought of a good one. I feel kinda weird posting these stories in segments since each one is a chapter in and of itself, so it's kinda of like posting a chapter of a chapter, but I figure my readers (if I have any) would just as so have something as wait another couple months. Wow, that was a long sentence. Anyway, when this story is over, I'll probably archive it as one post for people reading back. With some changes and, of course, a title. Consider this the beginning of a rough draft.

Dawn was just breaking over the forest as Simile opened her eyes. She looked over and saw Brazik next to her, snoring softly. Quietly, so as not to wake him, she slipped out of bed, and pulled on a clean moccra* and one of her generic hunting skirts. Then she grabbed one of her bags, folded it up, and stepped out of the tent.
She looked around at the camp, past the leaf-tents and the small fire-pit. Her eyes settled on a sleeping turquoise figure. She walked towards him, stepping carefully around a fallen leaf so as not to crinkle it. When she stood above the sleeping figure, she kicked it rather forcefully in the side. The pixie stirred, looked around dazedly, then sat bolt upright.
"I'm so sorry," he began, "P-p-p-p-please don't tell Brazik! I was just s-so tired, from last night, and Isa didn't show up to take her shift and I thought, I'll just rest my eyes a moment and then-" he looked up and into Simile's ice-cold stare and stopped. Her stare tended to have that effect on people. It felt like a laser sight on your forehead.
"P-p-please don't kill me?" suggested the terrified pixie.
Simile's face melted into slightly mischievous laughter. She smiled. "Fortunately for you, Poji, sleeping on guard duty is hardly a capital offense. And Isa's as much at fault as you - the girl's probably sleeping in. I'm not gonna tell Brazik. Don't worry,"
"Thank you so much," said Poji, incredibly relieved, "I was just so scared when I woke up and saw you, I mean his mistress of all people, and then you started staring at me and -"
"You should talk less," interrupted the other. "And I'm not his mistress. We're ....Close friends, that's all,"
"I saw you being friendly with him at the party last night," answered Poji.
"How dare you accuse me of monogamy? With Brazik of all people. Me, a daughter of the royal house**, with that obnoxious -"
"Alright, get ahold of yourself. I just figured, you spend enough time together..."
"Well, you figured wrong. Now, I'm going out to get us all some breakfast. Wake Isa then go in and sleep for two hours. We've got a big day ahead of us,"
With that, she spread her wings to shake off the dew that had accumulated that night and began beating them furiously. She rose into the air, dipped a little, then zoomed up through the canopy.
*A one-piece garment for Pixie women designed to be easily slipped on without damaging the wings. It is not immodest to wear one alone, but a skirt is usually worn with it.
**Doom pixies haven't had nobility in hundreds of years, but back when it did, they had purple skin. Anyone with purple skin is now said to be of the royal house, and many look at it with a sense of pride.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

The Universal Soul Theory

Ok, so here it is. We start with the idea of reincarnation, of the sort where you get progressively better each time. The catch is, the cycle isn't connected to linear time. So you can be reincarnated before you were born, or even at the same time. That means there can be more than one copy of your soul. So, next twist, what if everyone has the same soul? Everyone who ever lived or ever will live is a reincarnation of the same person, each other getting incrementally better. Ok, final twist. What if the last incarnation is first chronologically, and it's God. God creates the cycle, but God is also the culmination of it. That's the universal soul theory. We are all the same person, and we're all god.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Descendant worship - or turnabout is fair play

Tons of societies worship their ancestors. It's common as dirt when it comes to belief systems. Most others still build in some kind of respect for those that came before. But when you think about it, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I mean, you're better than your ancestors. More advanced, smarter, why should you worship them? In something that I right soon, I'm going to explore the idea of a society that worships their descendants - specifically, the culmination of the human race to which they will eventually give birth. Rather than worship a creator, they worship a creation that will eventually come to pass.
An interesting variation on this is the idea of a circular god. It states that this end point of creation will eventually go back and create the universe in the first place. In short, we are the product of our own ingenuity. Eventually, we will evolve to the point where we can create ourselves. It ensures that life goes on indefinitely - in a way.
Jonah deserves some credit for this random train of thought, since it was my pondering of his incredibly bizarre universal soul theory that led me to come up with it. I will post that intriguing theory here if he says its ok.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Concerning Doom Pixies, pt. II

On their warfare, family structure, and life-cycle.
Doom Pixie warfare is unique among all the peoples of the world. Because doom pixies are so small, for them to use the conventional tactics would be absurd. Instead, the have three major tactics they use in combat - Sabotage, Sorcery, and Sight-seizure.
The first tactic is sabotage. If the pixies have some grievance with a group of people, they will send warriors to break things, steal food, move objects from one side of a house to another, and cause general mischief. They are also fond of stealing one half of a pair of socks, and hiding all the writing utensils so you never have one when you need it. If this fails to get results, however, they move on the something a little more dangerous.
The next tactic is sorcery. This involves getting the most powerful of the Ojeki to get together and wreak havoc on the enemy, by summoning up a storm or some kind of monster under their control. This is sufficient to get all but the most stubborn enemies to back down.
If an enemy won't back down at this point, they'll generally decide to fight back by finding and attacking the pixie colonies. This is when pixies resort to their final tactic. If a mob is approaching a pixie colony, the Ojeki will make a general announcement giving the assailants one last chance to turn back. Then he lets out his cry of "Carpe Occulum!" and swarms of pixies will surround each member of the mob and gouge their eyes out with toothpick sized spears. The mob members often strike out in a blind rage and end up impaling each other. This is a deterrent to most mobs.
If it doesn't work, pixies consider themselves defeated and move on to form a new colony elsewhere. These migrations are very dangerous, and it can be years before a colony finds a new home.
In part one, the unusual family structure of the Doom pixies was alluded to, but I think it would be a good idea to elaborate somewhat. For the most part, Doom pixies do not mate for life. The dominant religion among the Doom pixies, in fact, encourages promiscuity, and since children are raised by the entire colony anyway, pregnancy is seldom a concern. Most Doom pixies, therefore, take part in a free love sort of philosophy, living alone or with close friends of either gender.
In recent years, however, Christianity has been growing among the pixies of many colonies. Christian pixies prefer to couple permanently, which authorities frown upon, but generally don't mind. More of a problem is the desire of some pixies to raise their own children exclusively.
In pixie culture, children are generally left to themselves to wonder the colony freely and discover the world for themselves. It is the responsibility of every pixie not only to care for the young and protect them from harm, but to take an interest in them and make them feel loved. On the rare occasion parents wish to raise their own children, they are seen with a mixture of scorn and pity. "Seperation anxiety" is seen as a disease of the mind, and such people must be kept away from babies until they get over it.
An interesting side-effect of this is Doom pixies names. Generally, as the colony gets to know a pixie child, a nickname sort of naturally emerges, based either on some physical trait, a personality trait, or something amusing that happened to them once. These names, like Eriswalneth (Triangular ears), Gunalae (Curios one) , or Tumtakolesthemwallock(kept trying to climb the walls until he broke his leg), generally stick with the child until the child grows his or her second set of wings. When a Doom pixie is able to fly (usually around 15 or 16 for girls, 17 or 18 for boys), he or she is considered an adult and allowed to choose a name which better describes them.
This is also the age where a young Doom pixies decides if he or she wants to be a sorceror or an artisan, in which case they are apprenticed, or just be a warrior/drone, in which case they go out into the wilderness with other young people and try to catch some local animal. The tradition varies based on what wild life is available, but the fundamentals are the same. Until the creature is caught and tamed, the group will be considered children. They will not be called by their chosen names, allowed to work in adult jobs, or do any adult things. They are also denied the priviledges of children. Because of this severe punishment, most groups return with a tame rodent of some sort, which is used as a hunting, herding or pack animal.
What you've just gotten is a basic overview of Doom pixie culture. It should be enough for you to better understand the stories which are to come.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

Monday, September 20, 2004

Concerning Doom Pixies

In an effort to be more like my brother, I'm close to starting my first story feature, the Doom pixie Saga. Before we do, you'll need to know some things about the background. I wrote this introduction in Study Hall today. Hope you enjoy it.

Concerning Doom Pixies, pt. I
The piece you are about to read deals rather heavily with Doom pixies. The author, therefore, has thought it prudent to include in this short segment some basic information about Doom pixies, their culture, and how they differ from regular pixies.
The thousands of creatures which inhabit our world range from the three and a half kilometer Leviathan of Mograb to the diminuitive angel, twenty-three of which can dance on the head of a single pin (unless they're swing dancing. That takes more space.) The temptation, when dealing with such creatures, is to assume the largest to be the most dangerous. This is, in fact, seldom the case. The aforementioned Leviathan, for instance, is completely harmless to most lifeforms because it moves so slowly that it takes sixty or seventy years to blink. Contrast with ten centimeter pixies, who could the traverse the Leviathan in a matter of hours. (Unimpressive as it may seem, it's comparable to one of us encircling the globe in an hour.)
As well as being fast, pixies are incredibly strong, capable of hauling up to one hundred times their body weight. Even a colony of regular pixies is not something to be trifled with.
Doom pixies are far worse . While normal pixies have some inborn magical qualilties, most notably, the production of valuable pixie dust, these pale in comparison to the powers of the doom pixie. Doom pixies have been known to perform higher-level wizard spells without books at the age of twenty-five. (It's worth noting that this is closer to twelve in pixie year. Pixies live fast, but they don't die young. While they mature at the age of twenty-five, they can live up to two-hundred and fifty years.) Unlike wizards, however, few Doom pixies can control this talent, so spell-casting is usually pretty random and inefficient.
Doom pixie is, in fact, something of a misnomer, as they are not especially prone to evil or violence. They call themselves the Ojeki-milunn, which means 'Pixies with better magic' in their language. The name doom pixies comes to us through one Sir Edgar Flemmington, who, mistaking them for regular pixies, attempted to extract some of their dust for a potion. When one frightened pixie accidently summoned an enormous demon which ate four of Flemmington's men, he wrote the following in his famous Journal:
"While most pixies be of a
friendly nature, and of a
generally good humour,
these be pixies of a highly
irregular sort. Yeah, verily
these be the pixies of doom,"
The journal was wildly popular, and the name stuck. We have called them Doom pixies ever since.
Besides the obvious magical advantage, Doom pixies resemble normal pixies in most ways. They are slightly taller, averaging ten to twelve centimeters for males and eight to eleven for females. Their skin has a light blue or purple coloration, and their wings are tinted in the same color. Their hair tends to be blonde, green, or occasianally turquoise, with yellow-green being overwhelmingly the most common. Their eyes are bright red.
Most Doom pixies live in large colonies, in chambered hives which they carve out of rock. They are amazingly resilient, thriving wherever there is adequate rock for hive-building. They can eat almost anything, but require massive amounts of food. Doom pixie colonies have minimal division of labor. All pixies in a given colony can be hunters, warriors, miners, farmers, or scavengers, as the need arrises. There are two exceptions - the few artisans, who strive night and day to produce high quality clothing and tools for the whole colony, and the Ojeki, or sorcerors. Each colony generally has one, the Ojek prime, who rules the colony. Under him are the rest of the Ojeki. Since Ojeki are by nature ambitious, they are always suspicious of each other. An old saying goes the only one who can't trust an Ojeki is the next one up, as they resort to any means to advance. This is odd, because most Doom pixies are incredibly honest and industrious.
Doom pixie children are raised by the entire colony. Most grow up with no knowledge of their parentage. Children who show exceptional paranoia, decietfulness, or ambition are trained as sorcerors. Magical aptitude is seldom a factor. Those who are especially clever or hard-working tend to become artisans. Most become workers, and are generally happy.
Occasionally though, someone doesn't want to share their land with Doom pixies. Maybe their afraid. Maybe a magical misfire destroyed a crop or killed an animal. Maybe someone was trying to steal the pixies' dust. Whatever the reason, sometimes the Doom pixies are forced to go to war.
That's all for now - prt. II will be up next time I get that bored. Thanks for reading.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Now for my first real post: A new TV show idea! Since Stargate: Atlantis stole enough of my most promising idea that it would be plagiarism to use it, I've needed a new one. I really like this one, though. Right now I'm calling it Exodus.

Ok, basically, way in the future, the solar system is controlled by a ruthless theocratic dictatorship. The church controlls everything, and only their twisted religion is allowed. This religion prohibits intersteller travel, and the technique for it has been lost to time.
This all happened because, hundreds of years earlier, humans traveled the galaxy freely. One hapless human angered an extremely powerful alien race, and they responded by devasting human colonies on a drive towards Earth. Earth repelled the attack, but soon after the church came to power, and destroyed all stardrives, and anywhere where knowledge of them was kept, in the interest of protecting the planet.
Anyway, now some other religious groups still survive in secret, but heavily persecuted. They've formed an alliance to help eachother survive. When a Mormon teraformer, surveying a small moon of saturn, discovers a buried stardrive, this alliance prepares a fleet for the next great Exodus.
The pilgrims narrowly escape the Solar System, but outside must contend with hostile aliens as well as internal power struggles in their search for the "promised land".
It was a good idea, but there was to much pressure to get it right. From now on, this is my place. It will have no order. Sometimes it will contain your typical blogging fare, but I reserve the right to post anything I want to. The purpose of this blog is not to entertain anyone but myself, but if it does, I won't complain. If it doesn't, however, you should not complain. When I get settlewd in, there will probably be short stories and everntually I may attempt a novella. These you may critique at your leisure. everything else you may disagree with, but you may not complain. That is, feel free to make comments critiquing my opinions, but not my presentation of said opinions. So to reiterate - this blog, mine. It is not for your personal entertainment, so don't complain about it to me. When a section is intended for your entertainment, you will know.

Have a nice day.

Friday, May 28, 2004

It's a good idea. It's a great idea. But I think I'll start it in a new blog and use this one as my private blog. A place not meant for the entertainment of others. Somewhere where I can say whatever I want and not care about how it's percieved at all. I won't even use psuedonomes. The only people who would really object to anything I'd say (A.) would never find this or (B.)I trust not to read this if I tell them not too. I believe in complete honesty. I have nothing to hide. If I did, you can bet I wouldn't put it on the internet. So this is my space. I honestly don't care if anyone reads it.

Thursday, May 06, 2004

And last night it hit me what this blog should be. If I see my life as a TV series, why not review it like one? In a little while I'll post abrief recap of seasons one and two and a cast list. Then I'll review each "episode" as I see fit. I think the show is gonna be a success. I've got all the elements; a loving but slightly dysfunctional family, quirky friends and teachers, complicated romances, and even cute animals. So join us next week.

Wednesday, May 05, 2004

Welcome to my new blog. If you're reading this, you probably know me. If you don't, I'll fix that in a few posts. I'm starting this now because I just figured out the source of all my major problems, and I'm amazed I didn't see it sooner. I have a flair for the dramatic. An incurable one. That's why my temper goes off, why I get obsessed with a girl for three years after knowing her a week, why I can't be wrong and why I'm such a good actor. I see my life as a play. All the worlds a stage, and all the men and women but players in it. Actually it's probably closer to a soap opera. I hate soap operas.