Must get... Guild Wars...
Assuming my pc will play it, I will need to raise 50$.
Current monetary standing: All debts paid off, >15$.
So, I'm getting there. ^^. Now that Mrs. Desloge uses me again instead of her everyday babysitter, Im getting filthy rich. Nyahahaha.
May 23, 2005
May 15, 2005
May is Insane
Yesterday I woke up from a sleepover, worked a garage sale, attended my sisters confirmation, went out to eat at her congratulatory dinner, drove to my grandmothers house, went to my cousins congratulatory dinner for graduating college, and then crashed on a tiny cot. We were even planning to drive back home yesterday night so that I could teach sunday school this morning, but we ditched that plan, and wisely! Now Ill be up all night doing my Spanish Homework.
May 09, 2005
Charecter Ideas
Im thinking about several different possible charectors...
All sort of adventurers, people on the fronteir types.
Highwayman? Sailor?
There were a couple of others I was considering.
Like I was inspired by this song where they say - "I killed a man in (memphis?). Just to watch him die."
It has also come to me that Ive never done a minstrel/bard.
Hmmm... :D
All sort of adventurers, people on the fronteir types.
Highwayman? Sailor?
There were a couple of others I was considering.
Like I was inspired by this song where they say - "I killed a man in (memphis?). Just to watch him die."
It has also come to me that Ive never done a minstrel/bard.
Hmmm... :D
May 05, 2005
The Larks were in the Lemons
I have some work done on the first chapter of a story... as always I have the start slow and distinctively normal approach. Whether thats good or bad is irrelavent :P. Its all very rough, but overall Im pleased with it. I still might scrap the whole thing, but its still a good charector excersize, no?
Kyra, you might notice the conversation with the little boy is similar to the one we had with Jeffrey. Good times ^^. You don't mind, do you? The charectors still a little too much like me, but you need to have the most of yourself in your main charector, right? Besides, there are differences, too...
8:24 PM 5/5/2005
The larks were in the lemons, the swallows in the plums. The ground was soft from recent rain and varied as a tapastry, as a miniature map of the miniature world it was. Moist earthy soil showed between the patchy wet grass, and the roots of all the trees stood out pale and dry as living rocks scattered across the path. Everywhere were the raspberries; bruised, broken, and bleeding, fallen upon the soil as if the earth itself was wounded.The quails lay hidden in the tall grass on the hills, the grapevines were alive with songbirds; flashing bright and blue and red between long dark leaves. Under the willows, by the lake, were the common birds; the thrushes and pheasants, pecking at the seeds the trees had dropped and the bread the children had left.
The wood of the wide porch was golden in the sun shining in from the meadow, filtered through the trees. Mara sat near the edge of it, near the steps that led beyond, shaded by the giant oak, with the suns rays poking through to aid her in her reading. In the center, one of the larger tables were filled with the Leis ladies; Pallas with her newest daughter in gentle tow, Namara with her greying hair in a strict bun and her smiling eyes sagging, cousin Alondra; newly included in the woman circle, and feircely proud of it; all the rest. Their quiet murmuring mixed with birdsong in the backdrop of Maryas mind, more natural than sound of roaring wind or rippling brook. All her life had been filled with voices, and they were a comfort to her, to have just beyond range of distinguishing, to her her aunts and great aunts and cousins gossip as the lazy summer days passed.
Mara turned a page, delighting in the crisp movement of the yellowed old paper, and looked up suddenly as the chattering momentarily stopped. Sure enough, they wanted something; Alondra was calling her over. She gave a half sigh as she began to flip the book over, thought better of her treatment of the antique spine, and bent the corner of the page over, smiling to see that her crease would not be new - the book had likely been in her family for generations, and each generation had lovingly pawed through it and left their marks. She half skipped over to the table, tucking her aubern hair behind her ear in a late and most likely vain attempt to look halfway presentable. Alondra quickly scanned her in what she must have hoped was a nondescript manner, decided it wasnt important for whatever chore she had in mind, and then continued.
"Wrens out playing," she said, her tone making it obvious what she thought of the childrens war games, "and I need her to spend some extra time washing up before supper. Her fathers mothers coming down from Levethe to see the family, and I want her looking presentable. You may tell her that."
Mara didnt mind running errands - it let her get up and stretch her legs, and the children adored her, but the way Alondra assumed her responsabilities had bugged her since she had made the circle. No matter, she thought - Alondra was condescending to everyone, even Mara, who was only younger by a year and a half. Her mother was a little different; she had never really felt comfortable within the circle, and tended to spend her afternoons roaming, or worse; with the men. Alondra had henceforth assumed the responsibility of raising her sister Wren to be proper. Wren, who took after her mother, hated it.
Going through the garden, she trusted the birds to guide her. She turned when she heard a short, familiar note, and saw a muddy face between the rows. It wasnt Wren, but Mara knew this girl too. An eighth year, and one of Wrens classmates. They were most likely on the same team. Mara bent down and crawled into the small space, explaining the situation to the girl.
"Alder Alondra?" she asked with a groan.
"You think everyone over the age of ten is ancient, do you?" Mara answered, her words hurt but her tone laughing. "If Alondras Alder that makes me your mothers mother."
"But she acts like it..." started the little one, before she seemed to realise that Mara already understood. "Wren should be in limes. I think they have a base in the third row." Mara nodded her thanks and backed out, brushing the dirt off her knees once she stood. Limes was nearby, which made sense; a team had to stay close together. She sprinted the remaining distance, keeping low. The games mattered to the chidren, and she didnt want to spoil their fun by giving away a location. After a small bit of searching, she found the described base and bent down to peer inside. She quickly came nose to nose with a fourth year, just old enough to have started the game. He narrowed his eyes in an approximation of a glare, and began interrogating her.
"Can't play the game." he said, "Too old." Mara laughed.
"Im not too old," she said, "Im fourth year, like you. Let me in." The little ones face wrinkled in confusion. He was at that age where he still accepted bigger peoples words as truth, but was beginning to develop his own, somewhat faulty, sense of logic. Finally he smiled.
"Nuh uh. Youre not three. Youre too big." Mara sighed as if he had figured her out.
"How old am I, then?" she returned He scooted closer and measured her with his hand.
"Youre... ten." he said.
"Ten?" Mara pouted. "Im not ten, Im four" Another face appeared behind the boy. "Mara?" asked a girl with dusty hair to her ears. It was Wren. She was pleased; these games were amusing, but hard on the knees, and she had a book to finish.
And a random excerpt from later that ties into the book allusion thingy above.
Someday the book would be filled; every page completed, with no room for her childrens stories, nor for those that came after.
Kyra, you might notice the conversation with the little boy is similar to the one we had with Jeffrey. Good times ^^. You don't mind, do you? The charectors still a little too much like me, but you need to have the most of yourself in your main charector, right? Besides, there are differences, too...
8:24 PM 5/5/2005
The larks were in the lemons, the swallows in the plums. The ground was soft from recent rain and varied as a tapastry, as a miniature map of the miniature world it was. Moist earthy soil showed between the patchy wet grass, and the roots of all the trees stood out pale and dry as living rocks scattered across the path. Everywhere were the raspberries; bruised, broken, and bleeding, fallen upon the soil as if the earth itself was wounded.The quails lay hidden in the tall grass on the hills, the grapevines were alive with songbirds; flashing bright and blue and red between long dark leaves. Under the willows, by the lake, were the common birds; the thrushes and pheasants, pecking at the seeds the trees had dropped and the bread the children had left.
The wood of the wide porch was golden in the sun shining in from the meadow, filtered through the trees. Mara sat near the edge of it, near the steps that led beyond, shaded by the giant oak, with the suns rays poking through to aid her in her reading. In the center, one of the larger tables were filled with the Leis ladies; Pallas with her newest daughter in gentle tow, Namara with her greying hair in a strict bun and her smiling eyes sagging, cousin Alondra; newly included in the woman circle, and feircely proud of it; all the rest. Their quiet murmuring mixed with birdsong in the backdrop of Maryas mind, more natural than sound of roaring wind or rippling brook. All her life had been filled with voices, and they were a comfort to her, to have just beyond range of distinguishing, to her her aunts and great aunts and cousins gossip as the lazy summer days passed.
Mara turned a page, delighting in the crisp movement of the yellowed old paper, and looked up suddenly as the chattering momentarily stopped. Sure enough, they wanted something; Alondra was calling her over. She gave a half sigh as she began to flip the book over, thought better of her treatment of the antique spine, and bent the corner of the page over, smiling to see that her crease would not be new - the book had likely been in her family for generations, and each generation had lovingly pawed through it and left their marks. She half skipped over to the table, tucking her aubern hair behind her ear in a late and most likely vain attempt to look halfway presentable. Alondra quickly scanned her in what she must have hoped was a nondescript manner, decided it wasnt important for whatever chore she had in mind, and then continued.
"Wrens out playing," she said, her tone making it obvious what she thought of the childrens war games, "and I need her to spend some extra time washing up before supper. Her fathers mothers coming down from Levethe to see the family, and I want her looking presentable. You may tell her that."
Mara didnt mind running errands - it let her get up and stretch her legs, and the children adored her, but the way Alondra assumed her responsabilities had bugged her since she had made the circle. No matter, she thought - Alondra was condescending to everyone, even Mara, who was only younger by a year and a half. Her mother was a little different; she had never really felt comfortable within the circle, and tended to spend her afternoons roaming, or worse; with the men. Alondra had henceforth assumed the responsibility of raising her sister Wren to be proper. Wren, who took after her mother, hated it.
Going through the garden, she trusted the birds to guide her. She turned when she heard a short, familiar note, and saw a muddy face between the rows. It wasnt Wren, but Mara knew this girl too. An eighth year, and one of Wrens classmates. They were most likely on the same team. Mara bent down and crawled into the small space, explaining the situation to the girl.
"Alder Alondra?" she asked with a groan.
"You think everyone over the age of ten is ancient, do you?" Mara answered, her words hurt but her tone laughing. "If Alondras Alder that makes me your mothers mother."
"But she acts like it..." started the little one, before she seemed to realise that Mara already understood. "Wren should be in limes. I think they have a base in the third row." Mara nodded her thanks and backed out, brushing the dirt off her knees once she stood. Limes was nearby, which made sense; a team had to stay close together. She sprinted the remaining distance, keeping low. The games mattered to the chidren, and she didnt want to spoil their fun by giving away a location. After a small bit of searching, she found the described base and bent down to peer inside. She quickly came nose to nose with a fourth year, just old enough to have started the game. He narrowed his eyes in an approximation of a glare, and began interrogating her.
"Can't play the game." he said, "Too old." Mara laughed.
"Im not too old," she said, "Im fourth year, like you. Let me in." The little ones face wrinkled in confusion. He was at that age where he still accepted bigger peoples words as truth, but was beginning to develop his own, somewhat faulty, sense of logic. Finally he smiled.
"Nuh uh. Youre not three. Youre too big." Mara sighed as if he had figured her out.
"How old am I, then?" she returned He scooted closer and measured her with his hand.
"Youre... ten." he said.
"Ten?" Mara pouted. "Im not ten, Im four" Another face appeared behind the boy. "Mara?" asked a girl with dusty hair to her ears. It was Wren. She was pleased; these games were amusing, but hard on the knees, and she had a book to finish.
And a random excerpt from later that ties into the book allusion thingy above.
Someday the book would be filled; every page completed, with no room for her childrens stories, nor for those that came after.
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