Meet Cass

(Just so you know, this is an old picture)

Ladies and gents, meet Cass. He's a Kaleedish snype (aka Egyptian Knight; Kaleed is roughly a mix between Egypt and the romanticized medieval era with a bit of my own flare ;D), and the first in a series of posts on my newest literary endeavor, a story that has yet to be named. Heheh. He is the third main character, and shows up about a third of the way through the book.

Actually, Cass isn't really a snype just yet. He finished all his training a year early because he's so darn dedicated (you would be tried to find a more patriotic Kaleedish subject, that's for sure). That would be a good thing, if it didn't mean he had nothing to do anymore besides hang around the pharaoh's palace. He can't even graduate until he slays and flays a great beast, and since he is still technically a squire, he can't leave his post as a castle guard.

Cass makes the most of it all, of course. Being a squire puts him in a relatively high social status, a fact that he take to its fullest potential. When he isn't practicing with his khopesh (check it out! The black and gold one looks most like how I imagine his: just here ), showing off to his friends, practicing his duties or sneaking a peak at the shows folks put on for the pharaoh (he likes fake magicians best, with mirrors and all kinds of tricks), he's taking care of his appearance, because Cass is girly like that. He keeps his would-be blonde hair cropped to a buzz - since hardly a soul grows out their hair in Kaleed - and wears a long hat like shone above to block out the hot desert sun. He finds duste leftover from magic wielders and brushes his teeth with it, so when he smiles, they sparkle. He's extremely pleased with that effect and likens it to the fake magic shows he adores, even though it's real magic.

Not only Cass is extremely skilled when it comes to fighting, but he truly takes the code of chivalry to heart and follows its rules to the letter, carrying them around in a little papyrus book. Despite his morality, our squire is an inherently power-hungry person. Cass's greed and Cass's wish to be a true hero often play mental battle in the poor guy's head, which can make him freeze on the outside. He isn't the cleverest fellow out there, and his Sordian complexion belies his ties to Kaleed. He's cocky, conceited, overconfident, vain, greedy, and skinny despite his musculature. But beyond it all, Cass truly means the best, he's mean with the sword, the bravest man you'll ever meet (sometimes even to a foolish degree), and a real sweetie, too. Love him, hate him, or something in between - he'll just be glad for the attention ;D

(On a side note, if he were a character from King Arthur, Cass would totally be Kaye)

A Final Follow-up So I Can Shut Up About the PJ Series

(You might want to read this post before reading this one:

http://somewhereinthisgalaxy.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-true-love-isnt-shaky-or.html
)

BEWARE, Percy Jackson and the Olympians SPOILERS LIE AHEAD!

I really really really really really really enjoyed that series. I hated the love triangle (bah. If you could call it that. Rachel Elizabeth Dare never had a chance), but the action was nonstop and the whole thing was really funny. Most the characters didn't seem to have distinct voices in the dialogue, though Mr. Riordan was magically able to give them well defined personalities anyhow. I really really really did like that book, and here are some things that made it rock all the harder:

Relatable villains! Extra brownie points for the bad guys beyond Kronos you could actually get. (Luke, I'm looking at you. Ethan too. Can't forget Prometheus!)

Nonstop action! Things just kept going and going and going like the Energizer Bunny.

Hades! How could people hate such a grouchily lovable god? Poor guy really got the short end of the stick, and I couldn't help but love him. I just wish Mr. Riordan had taken note that out of all the other Greek gods, in mythology he and Persephone are the only ones who don't cheat on each other. I don't think he should have changed that for this story, but I still really enjoyed it. And you gotta love little Nico :D

Tyson! Because he is just the cutest cyclops ever.

Prometheus! Because he is just the awesomest titan ever, and I really do think he was good intentioned at heart.

Percy! Seriously, that kid really impressed me. He focused on the battle at hand and not some silly one-sided love mess. He gave up a chance at immortality to bring some recognition to demigods. He was very much in love with Annabeth throughout. He was brave and bold and wicked clever. He was forgiving and tolerant but drew the line. I think Mr. Riordan did a great job with our lead.

Some things I was disappointed in:

Hera. She isn't so lenient. This is the woman who made a man kill his own family (two little boys. Two children. His wife, too) for daring to be the son of a woman she hated and Hera's husband. She wouldn't let some puny demigod speak up to her like Annabeth did and only leave a few cow messes as punishment.

Hermes. So he was avoiding Luke because of the prophecy? Well, Greek Mythology has proved that you can do whatever the heck you want - but you won't change fate. Why couldn't he be with his son UNTIL all that happened? It would end the same way, that's how it always works in myth.

The spy. Silena? Hmm, I don't know - I was suspicious of Michael Yew. Because he was peeving the Ares cabin, I thought it might have been to keep them out of war. I thought he lied when he said he had given Clarisse the chariot, and that Silena would discover so when she went back to camp. Our daughter of Aphrodite returning with the Ares cabin to fight the draken really rocked, though, so that made up for it :nod: And I guess she made sense, and she surprised me, which was nice, but I'd hoped for a twistier more interesting conclusion to that mess.

And you know how I feel about Annabeth. Seriously, she spent the whole first two books mooning after Luke, but when Percy makes friends with a spunky clever redhead she gets all funny. Which I guess is just silly like all humanity (the race she so vehemently demeaned. Grr), but it still peeved me. I was really happy for her when she got to redesign Olympus, though. That has to be a dream come true for the girl, I know she'll do a great job.

I saw a picture for one the craziest ideas I've ever heard up on dA. Luke/Rachel? REALLY? I can't shake the feeling that it just might work. Especially since EVERYONE loves Luke. Thalia. Annabeth. Now Silena Beauregard. Rachel was only a matter of time ;-)

Check out the picture yourself: http://ribkadory.deviantart.com/art/Luke-n-Rachel-188240963

Because True Love Isn't Shaky or Uncertain, and action packed books rock

(If you want to understand this post better, try reading this one: http://somewhereinthisgalaxy.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-i-have-really-soft-spots.html )

I don’t want to strangle Annabeth. I’ve been thinking about it, and I realized the idea makes me sicker than her comment on mortals did in the first place. I wouldn’t be capable.

What I do want is for that Anna girl to quit calling Percy a coward, to listen to him, to stop picking on Rachel, to worry about other things besides a silly love triangle and work with the guy she cares about to SAVE THE WORLD before it bloody ends.

And I want Percy to stop leading on a girl he doesn’t really care for and get together with the one he does already. I respect Percy, sure, because he is focusing on his mission to save the world and Olympus and all that instead of Rachel vs. Annabeth (which I think is the main reason he’s letting R.E.D. get cozy with him in the first place). But still, he should be clearer. It’s just not fair on either end.

And Rachel! I wish Rachel would tell the guy about her silly visions. Sure, they might just be dreams. But they might not. Better safe than sorry. Or, at least, I’m assuming she’s having visions. It’s hard to tell in stories like this when you’ve just gotten into it.

I’m really loving this book to pieces. Hestia rocks to high heaven. I still wish there wasn’t a silly love triangle, but the humor’s great and the pace fantastic. It’s nice having a story where things just keep on happening.

Because I'm silly and passionate

Gosh darnnit, I’m fed up.

Okay, so there’s this really awesome series. It’s by a guy named Rick Riordan, it’s called Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and you’ve probably heard of it. It’s got modernized Greek Mythology, adventure, humor, excitement, and I love it to pieces. It’s been forever since I’ve touched anything from that series, but, jumping in on that final book, Mr. Riordan does an unbelievable job of catching me up. I could probably just read that one novel without any of the others and still get what’s going on. And it doesn’t feel repetitious even if you do remember what happened, because it’s like fond memories, calling back something you enjoyed a long time ago with a funny, dry twist to it in the narrative.

Anyhow, it’s a great book, it’s a great story, it’s great fun.

WHICH IS WHY THIS WHOLE THING IRKS ME SO MUCH.

There’s this character, who’s been there forever, who’s the romantic interest, who’s totally ending up with Percy no matter how any of us feel (though I’m getting the picture that people like her. I think I liked her too, ages ago. Before THE INCIDENT). Now I feel really weird about this, because I’ve adored the villains of a couple stories. I’ve relished in the messed up antiheroes. I’ve loved flaws that make a person cracked, but still leave them pure and lovely. But I hate Annabeth. I can’t stand her. She’s ruining the series for me, all because of one dumb thing she said when she was hurt and upset.

I wish Mr. Riordan had left romance out all together in this series (but kept the girls, ‘cause girls rock. Isn’t it weird how in general they only include girls in action series for the purpose of romance?). If he had, I wouldn’t be dealing with this trauma. Every second of the story that pretty grey eyed blonde takes up is a second I spend seething in animosity. And it’s not that I like the other girl better, though I guess I do (she introduces herself by her full name! Who does that? Who in the world introduces herself by her full name? Rachel Elizabeth Dare. The only person I know weird enough to do that is ME, which I guess makes me biased. But I want to make it VERY CLEAR that the reason I despise Annabeth has nothing to do with R.E.D.). It’s that Athena’s daughter hit my worst pet-peeve ever in literature, similar to the reason I resent Arya from Inheritance and elves in general in most stories (note I said most).

There’s this point, when Rachel and Percy and Annabeth are traveling together. Percy and Annabeth are demigods, meaning one of their parents was human, and one of them was a Greek God. Rachel’s a human, a mortal, and she likes Percy. Anna knows she likes Percy, and apparently Anna likes Percy too, even though she makes a point to insult and berate him all the time (I guess she’s nice enough otherwise, and the hate/love relationships can be cute when done properly, but really, I’m kind of getting bored when it comes to that). And there’s this point, where Annabeth says – ‘She’s just a mortal’ in this horrible tone, and I quote, “She said ‘mortal’ like it was some kind of disease”.

Excuse me. But last time I checked, I’m mortal, and I’m the one reading this bleeding story. Last time I checked, mortals built the Great Wall of China, and invented airplanes, and rollercoasters, and wrote brilliant stories – oh, wait, were all those folks who did great things demigods too? Because apparently George Washington was, in this series. Sooooo… if you want to be a respectable, responsible, powerful and/or brilliant person you’ve got to have a parent who’s a god? And if that person doesn’t happen to have a parent who’s a god, what does that make this ‘mere mortal’? A pawn, on some great big chess board? A fleeting speck of dust to be flicked away on the wind? An incompetent, uncreative, stagnant, helpless nothing?

Right. They’re just a mortal.

So I’m overreacting. I’m way overreacting. But the thought, that someone’s parentage can make someone ‘better’ or ‘worse’ than someone else makes me feel sick. Whenever I read about Annabeth, whenever she shows up, I get this sour, bitter taste in my mouth and feel sick in my stomach. It’s ruining this brilliant story for me and honestly, honestly infuriating me.

I used to get confused when people went off on moral characters so passionately and vehemently, while sticking up for the rotten ones. Now I think I understand. I guess that moral character just hit that person’s ‘spot’ like Annabeth hit mine. She’s a cool enough character; tough, clever, not at all helpless. A little arrogant, I guess, because all heroes have to have a ‘fatal flaw’ (so hubris is hers), but a cool enough character. I think I remember liking her. It’s such a shame, really. Because I so love this series, but now, reading it, I feel like throwing up.

I want to wrap my fingers around her neck, squeeze, and ask her what she thinks of mortals now. And I don’t even feel guilty about it, which makes me a little worried.

Holidays, Family, and MY AWESOME LIFE

My life rocks, I'm the luckiest girl the world, I could hardly be happier, I love my family so much, blah blah blah, you've heard it a thousand times but I can't stop thinking it, and I won't stop saying it. If I'm going to be a broken record, best to be stuck on these good points, right? (totally leeched that off my father, by the way. I like steeling quotes from my genius family :D)

So today we all went off together on a little walk through of cute itty bitty set ups of fairy tales with Christmas themes, and teddy bears, and pretty lights, and a place to donate cans for people who need food, and Santa Claus at the end. Tons of fun, really. The boys, my dearest little brothers, were absolute DOLLS (which was a pleasant surprise, since they’ve been rather tantrum-prone of late). I remember at the very end, Mrs. Claus came up to Brother2 (who had latched on to Daddy and was hiding in his shoulder, not daring to look up).

"I've got a Candy cane!" she said.

Brother2 snatched that candy in a blur, but he didn’t look up. He must have a sixth candy sense ;-)

Brother1 actually sat on Santa's lap, which surprised us all. He's not really that social when it comes to people he doesn't know very well.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Olde Saint Nick sayeth.

"I already got stuff," Brother1 replied cheerfully.

About then my heart melted. He's so happy, so complete - he doesn't have a single wish for Christmas. How wonderful is that? To know that your little brother is that happy. It just made my day.

I love the holiday spirit, I love the crisp winter air, I love caroling like there's no tomorrow with Dear Sister. I love dressing in thick cozy shirts and soft fluffy sweats. More than anything I love the people I'm with - how I scored such a fantastic family, I'll never know. Sheer dumb luck. And awesome genes, too, I guess. My parents picked well!

It's just amazing, because I admire each and every one of them. They're beautiful, in every way possible, and brilliant. They make my life so very wonderful and I'm so, so, so happy to be blessed with them.

I feel the need to express that in writing every so often. I'm not sure why, but... well, it's important to me. I want them to know how much they've shaped me. How much I love them. I want the world to know how happy I am, how blessed. I am so grateful, to everything there is to be grateful to.

I wish you all the best this holiday season, I'll send some love and some happy thoughts, too *blows a kiss* Expect to hear more from me! I've got a new story idea and will be ranting on it shortly, so be excited or run away screaming. You're pick.

Much love, Merry Christmas!

Do you know what rocks?

I’ll tell you what rocks! Polar bears. I mean, they’re HUGE. They’re like real, live magical monsters. I mean seriously, there should be more books with polar bears in them (besides the Golden Compass; that didn’t really interest me). A werebear would be a heck of a lot cooler than a werewolf, if you asked me.

My case: They’re ten feet tall, they’ve got big claws, they eat a fridge full of seal for just one meal, they have really sharp teeth, they live in a remote area, and they roar. MONSTERS. But they’re furry and cuddly warm creatures too, which means in a story it would be relatively easy to write in a soft side to whatever part they played. They’re perfect writing material if you ask me, and my fingers are just ITCHING to do something with them.

The only problem being: What?

So far, all I could think up was a fellow named Faun, with a personality I’m still building up, but I think it’d be a similar to Theodore Rosefelt’s (another of my characters – you might remember me ranting on him. Yes, he was named in fond remembrance of the United States’ former president of a similar name). He sold his soul (or maybe just half of it; I’m still working on that) to have the ability to shift forms into that of a bear whenever he chooses. I’m still figuring him out, though, and I’ve no clue what story he’s going to take part in. *shrugs helplessly*

Anyhow, I just felt like unloading my fascination and excitement about a beast nearly twice my height. I’d love to hear what you think and know about polar bears – especially in regards to literature – , as nowadays, all you hear about them is how they’re going extinct due to melting ice (which is really a very very sad thing).

More of my drawings because I like to share them so HA

Only one of the characters shown here is actually mine, being the gal. Not the guy that looks like a gal, the actual gal being slung over his shoulder. It's Phoenix Shifter, if you remember her from before. The rest belong to some good friends of mine, so I want to make that very clear.

But I drew these! Yaaay! I'm so proud. And wings are fuuuuuuuun. I love sketching wings.


These are my sad attempt at bat wings. Geier doesn't normally have them; he's just showing off.
These are his babies, his wicked cool swords. Luft (air), Erde (earth), Wasser (water), and Feuer (fire) - one for each element. Later he'll get spirit, but five swords are harder to fit in nicely than four.
This guy's uncle made him wings to prove he could to some other disbelievers. They actually work, but all Lewis wants is to get rid of them.

I'm a Kitten Killer

So, the night before last night, I read about that poor eyeless kitten in Georgia (http://goosestep-lion.livejournal.com/134965.html?view=924981#t924981 - thanks for passing on the word, Sylph). Anyhow, I went to bed, and then I dreamed that Mom and Dad bought me three cute little fuzzy kittens (keep in mind, I would never get a pet in real life, since Dad's allergic to cats and Mommy's got problms with dogs :XD: - so I should have known I was dreaming, but for some silly reason I didn't yet). They were ADORABLE.

Anyhow I was really tired, but one of the kittens needed a bath, so I took the cute little fuzz ball into the bathroom and filled the tub with a few inches of nice warm water. The kitten starts splashing around, having a ball, when I fall asleep because I'm so exhausted. Next thing I know I'm jerking up and there's this tiny black kitten skeleton soaking in the water. A SKELETON.

Now I'm perfectly traumatized and come running out into the living room screaming "I killed it! I killed it!" and yelling that we had to return the other two before I killed them too. I was crying and panicked and confused. And then my parents got divorced (another thing that's never happening; they PROMISED. Even if they hadn't - Mom and Dad love each other SO MUCH. I see that every day, even more every year. They take such good care of one another and they're a team in everything they decide) and I was really irked at them for doing that. And then I went through this weird trial, and there was this drunk guy going through it too (he was a REAL bum and a lowlife and a jerk, too) and then mom and dad were getting remarried, and then it had all been some illusion (except the kitten), but they were having a ceremony anyway, and then the end of time came, and there was cake…

It was a weird dream.

But I don't think I'm ever getting over that poor little kitten. :cry:

To Be or Not to Be

To Be or Not to Be

It’s such a darn famous quote. I can’t count all the times I’ve heard it or a reference to it. Trouble is I don’t even really know what it means. See, it’s not like we have a choice. You’re pretty much stuck ‘being’, as Miss Dorothy Parker pointed out:

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

But back on topic. You’re stuck being. The question isn’t whether or not to continue existing in my opinion, because no matter how horrible the world gets you always have a chance if you are only alive. I’ve nothing against Shakespeare; in fact I rather respect him. He was a great comedian and a good writer in his time. But when it comes to me, the question is not ‘yes or no’, but what. What should you be, that is the question!

Every day, every minute of our lives is a choice. Who am I going to be? What am I going to be? What we are is the choices we make, nothing more, nothing less. I choose to snap at my family, I choose to explain myself and apologize later. I choose to write, to create and to practice my art, because an artist is something I want to become. I choose to try when it comes to my sister, to fight for her, because our relationship means the world to me. I choose to be there for my brothers, even after they throw fits and scream, because they’re gosh darn cute and so very, very sweet. I choose to be who I am, because whatever someone thinks or what they say or how they feel, it’s their actions that define them in the light of history. It’s what they do with themselves that should make you decide whether or not to bother.

Everyone has excuses, and near everyone deserves pity and love for one reason or another. That doesn’t make what they choose to do any better; only more understandable. I’ve had the luck to grow up in a world that loves me, with people who have chosen to devote their lives to myself and my siblings with the best out of their circumstances. I won’t lie and say that hasn’t shaped me in who I am, and I would be a very different person having lived a different life. But even then, there is always a choice. I could choose 'to be' whatever the heck I want, any day, right now. It wouldn’t be easy, and it isn’t, but the more we chose the more those choices shape us, the easier they are to make. That choice is one we all decide every day, every second: Who am I going to be?

My Halloween Costume '10

I was attempting to get all decked up for Halloween as a demon/psycho-ologist/sinister psychologist/Lyla Alden with the devil horns she should have been born with, and I think I came pretty darn close. This costume was a BLAST.

Here's what I was going for:

...And here's what my costume ended up looking like.

I'm rather proud!

Red Lips

I use burny lipstick yesterday, the kind that stings and stains your lips, because it looked just perfect for the character I was playing that Halloween. But it WON'T COME OFF. It's really weird, heheh, because I hardly ever wear makeup at all, and now I'm walking around with these bright red lips and no mascara or anything XD

I promise, pics are coming - pics of Dear Sister, myself, and Brothers 1&2. Before the end of the year at the latest.

Happy Halloween!

EDIT: GAH! Due to blogger craziness, the pictures and the text are totally out of sink. Each bit of text has a description, however, so you should be fine if you read and look carefully. Read on!
----

Yippy! It’s the Day of the Dead, All Hallow’s Eve, that special day where people buy candy just to give it away. It’s like Christmas, only sweets instead of presents, and people give to strangers rather than those they know just to let kids have a good time. I think it’s a touching holiday, and a real fun one too, with all those fabulous costumes. I love picking them out and putting them together; it’s such a blast.

Since this year I won't be doing much for this special day, I thought I should post some dress-up memorabilia. I plan to be a Psycho-Ologist - or a Sinister Psychologist, or Lyla Alden, if you remember me ranting on her - this year, but you probably won't see pics until tomorrow. To tie you over, and for my own nostalgia's sake, here's every other year I ever dressed up:



Halloween, 1999, Dear Sister and I. I think we're supposed to be Barney and a Bumble bee, but who knows? The masks kind of throw me off.




Halloween 2003, Dear Sister as Alice in Wonderland and myself Super Man! Yippy!

A vampress and a mummy. Dear Sister's costume rocked this year, being 2004.

I went as a vampire for the second and last time, Dear Sister as a ghost. Isn't the blood a brilliant touch? And while I love sissy's hood, it's her killer expression that makes me want to drop dead. This is 2005.

Brother1's first time dressing up! At a year old, I believe, this is him as Super Baby. Dear Sister and I had AWESOME costumes this time around (we scared poor little kids on accident, they were so cool); me as a Ghost Bride, and she as a vampire in 2006. We switched our costumes from the last year, if you note.

Though I looked great as Medusa, the monster from Greek Mythology, getting the snakes out of my hair was a brutal, brutal memory I won't ever forget. But isn't Dear Sister just the cutest li'l witch you ever did see? She comes with a bumble bee, too!

You long-time readers should remember this one! My first Halloween on blogger, 2008, when I went as a Harpy (not a blackbird), again from Greek Mythology. Everyone else had chicken pox at the time (though I was soon to follow), so I was the only one who dressed up this time around.

This year ROCKED. Brother1 as Indiana Jones, myself as Anna Bolena, or Anne Boleyn, or Nan Bullen, Queen of England and my personal hero, Daddy as a Man in Black, Mommy as Donna Noble from Doctor Who, and Dear Sister as a Genie. Awesome, eh?

Myself, as Cinderella, last Halloween at 2009. This costume came out beautifully, I think, and that dress is one of my favorites.

That's it, I guess. Thanks for stopping by and reading - happy, happy, Halloween!

More On Drawing

I really don't like sketching glasses on people when I draw. It's not that I don't like glasses - I wear glasses, for those of you who don't know - , but when you add the frames to the face, it blocks out most of the hard work I put into the eyes, and no matter how hard I work to go around my details it always ruins them. You can see my dilemma. *sniffs*

The trouble is there are some characters that just aren't who they are without glasses - Lyla Alden, for instance. She is wearing the same flashy red frames she picked out when she was somewhere between six and eleven years old; they were waaaaaaaay too big but she bought 'em anyway and had the lenses replaced every few years. Lyla without her glasses isn't exactly Lyla, which is something even she would agree to (of course, if you saw Lyla without her makeup, stiletto heels, fake eyelashes, fake nails, glasses, and with her hair down she'd most likely kill you).

Anyhow that's my drawing ramble for today. I'm getting better, I'm having fun, and now I'm coloring some of my sketches on the computer! Check out these quick colored doodles of Phoenix Shifter, the spunky sweet farmgirl, with shorter hair:

Yesterday

Late Night rocks. I mean really rocks. It'd be nice if all the 'bars' were open longer, but hey. It still totally rocks. If I were to sum up yesterday in a couple words, I guess I'd have to say "I played Late Night". That's just about it, heheh - I usually obsess over sims after getting a new EP, at least for a while. But let me think; I know I did a bit more than that.

I did try a magic trick with Brother1. Brother2 wandered around in a Darth Vader costume, and chased after the bigger boy with a pillow. Dear sister and I baked muffins. I practiced piano. We all watched that really cute TV show Raising Hope (which is just adorable, I'll have to post about it sometime). I wanted to get some typing and/or drawing done yesterday, be eh. It didn't happen. I role-played for a wee bit at the end of the day; that was fantastically fun, and I got some practice writing while I was at it. Beyond that I guess I just played with my newest Sims 3 expansion pack, random bits of chatter, observation, and food preparation not included.

It's Magic!

Recently li'l Brother1 has been showing a great interest in the big bin of magic tricks that has been hiding under my bed for the past... three years? Well, something like that. See, eons ago I was part of the 'Magician's Ring!' and performed magic on a regular basis. I practice like mad and knew all the tricks in the books (no, really, I read every single one that I had - in a certain book).

Now, a while later, I still have the mindset to figure those things out nowadays. I love going to a magic show and looked closely, trying to figure out how to do the trick. I'm none to bad at that nowadays.

Anyhow Brother1 stumbled upon my sockpile of quite a few tricks. Maybe I should start relearning them, so I could share with the guy. He's such a sweetheart, and her really does try, but he ends up giving the trick away every single time XD

Gosh, I love that boy.

The Sims 3: Late Night

It’s out! Sims 3 Late Night is out! Yaaaaay! Yaaaaay! Yaaaaay!

I’m really really really really really really really excited about this. I’ve been waiting so long. And for once, I’m going to buy it, which Brother1 is really excited about since that means he can use it more quickly and easily. See, Dear Sister keeps her Sims expansion packs under her loft bed, which is a no-go zone for anyone, and she gets upset if you do trespass on her territory. Which I understand, I guess; it’s her space. But I sure hate it when the only way we can get at sims is if she goes and brings it out for us on her own time.

I’m honestly jittery about this. More body sliders! More traits! Night clubs! More cars! More clothing!

Yippy!

I’ll come back and post a more coherent, more intelligent, more proper post tomorrow. XD

On my stories

I've started writing Kings of Darkness, yaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Yip, you heard right. Yesternight I poured out over 3000 words, which was wonderful. For probably the first time in my life I knew exactly what I was doing and where I was going to go. I am so, so happy for that, and I've gone pretty far too. I decided to try using Phoenix Shifter as the main character; I might change my mind later, but why not give it a go? She'll be Emily in this one (partly from the advice of Dear Sister), though, because it makes her a little more ordinary and I want her to be someone you can really connect with - someone whose eyes you can clearly see the land of Glorsifil through.

The trouble is that K.o.D. is only one of many stories I'm in the middle of writing. To put matters in perspective, here are just a few of the others:

An as of yet unnamed story about a man gone mad, his freaky psychologist, and his desperate attempts to go home and be with his family. The story follows Theodore and the other wards and workers in a mental hospital, exploring the idea of insanity and unraveling the mystery behind his mental illness and his new companions.

Dreams of Eden, a story about six miserable children who start dreaming of one another in a special, perfect place. Soon they learn that there is more to these dreams than meets the eye and set off on a long journey to find one other in their hidden paradise.

Twisted, a retelling of Snow White. Beatrice von Iden is a princess in her own right, and as her beloved step-mother taught her she has both a right and duty to all the privileges and obligations therein. When one day in the Queen's childhood castle, Beatrice - or Snow White, as she is fondly nicknamed - stumbles across the mystic Mirrors from her step mother's Fairies' Tales, her perfect world is slowly ripped apart as the years continue, driving her and the Queen further and further apart and throwing her into the hands of her worst nightmare and ancient enemies, the dwarves.

And those are just the most prominent at the moment. I'm still planning on writing a lot more stories in the world of Arrivia (the setting where my self-published sci-fi Project 6-1-2 takes place), for one thing, or a mystery about this guy and this girl trying to unravel their pasts, or another post-apocalyptic story. As you can see, I'm kind of overloaded. But that's okay, I guess, because yesterday I realized something I'd forgotten for a long, long while: I really, really do love to write. I hope one of these days I can make a career out of it, but I know now that I’ll be typing for the rest of my life.

Sad Endings and Mush

Now, I understand that everyone has different tastes, and that's just fine. It's a good thing, I guess. I mean if everyone in the world wanted to be a journalist and nothing else we'd have some serious problems, wouldn't we? ;-) But I - well, I just really really don't like sad endings.

First off, the whole point of reading or watching anything is to feel good, isn't it? And a sad ending really doesn't leave me feeling good. Besides, if the whole time the movie has been building and building up to 'How are these characters possibly going to get out of this?' Then BAM, they just don't, I feel rather cheated.

I guess a lot of times people are just going for an 'impact' when they kill off your favorite character or make all hope lost. And I suppose that in some cases that makes sense; Romeo and Juliet probably wouldn't be near as famous if they'd both survived, eh? But if the impact is a sad one that leaves you feeling miserable - I just don't see the point. Ugh, and I hate those endings that leave you crying and crying when really nothing could ever have been done differently by most the characters, like in The Phantom of the Opera. *sigh*

ANYHOW I couldn't think of anything else to post about, and since I'm suffering from the dreaded Writer's Block, my fall back ended up book related today. What’s really on my mind is whether or not I should completely switch out May Petersen from Kings of Darkness since she doesn't really have much of a personality, but then someone pointed how it's nice in that kind of an adventure for a character to lack much distinction, just so you could imagine that you were the one going through all this wonder whilst she does. My brain feels like mush and I ended up deciding I'll try switching out main characters and write for a while. I might scrap it later and start from scratch once more, but I might love it, too. We’ll see. Wish me luck, please!

My Favorite Original Characters

You wouldn't believe how many original characters I have floating around, and once I discovered role playing – well, let’s just say that doubled. I love them all with a tender passion like I'd love my own children – even my villains – , but I'm a horrible parent and apparently have favorites:

Lyla Alden, previously known as the Sinister Psychologist. An ex rich girl, she had virtually no social interaction as a little girl– her parents being fairly neglectful since they were really too busy for a child in the first place. She grew up around a few expensive tutors learning French, Math, History, and Science. Lyla passed the time watching people; watching her parents' parties, watching the household servants interact, watching how people gossiped, praised, manipulated, loved, fought, and cried. Unfortunately, as she hadn't actually done any of these things herself, when she finally made what Lyla refers to as her 'debutante appearance' (a twelve year old decked up in mother's makeup waltzing in stiletto heels on her parents' party uninvited) she came out stilted and awkward, and to this day hasn't been able to fix that. Sure, she practiced in front of the mirror for hours saying please and thank you, and if you ever meet a person that can smile wider than Lyla I'll give you a million dollars*, but she gives the impression of a moving Barbie doll dripping with sadism. She's so completely over-the-top polite and statically happy that she achieves exactly the opposite affect for which she was hoping. (As I once wrote in reference to Miss Alden: Her voice was cream floating in coffee, crystals of sugar dancing to the bottom. Her voice slid into your ears and gripped at your mind, twisting you from the inside out.) The affect she does achieve, however, is probably much more suiting. Lyla isn't a 'nice girl'. The human mind fascinates her; she loves the way it works and - even more - loves watching it crumble. But if you need a counselor and don't mind mental trauma along the way to sanity, she's your best bet. Sinister she may be, but she's also one of the best psychologists out there.

Theodore Rosefelt (yes, he was named in mock reference and honest tribute to a famous former president), or Farmer Ted, or the guy rolling his eyes in the corner before getting the job done and acerbically working out whatever argument he was rolling his eyes at. Teddy is a born and bred farmer (an acrobat, too!) and proud of this, but he doesn't act like stereotype would suggest. He isn't jolly or simple or even friendly. In fact he's sardonic, crabby, and a real pain in the neck. He's one of the snappiest average Joe's out there, and frankly kind of scary when you irk him. Despite all this, Theodore is loyal, loving, awfully clever, HORRIBLY witty, and a good person if you cut his chest open and take a good look at the very center of his heart. He had a tendency to feel fatherly towards people and then beat himself up about it, and is a 'family man' despite himself. This really surprised him since it seemed so inconsistent with what he knew about himself so before. But that's Teddy in a word: inconsistent. He's crabby and sardonic, but clipped and polite. He's quiet and observant, but rash and wild. He can lash out madly like a whip and later just sit quietly making a comment or two when he thinks it’s really necessary. Ted is very clever and pretty subtle in his emotions, but when he does feel he becomes completely caught up in the anger or joy and becomes absolutely, positively irrational. He's somewhat bipolar, terrified of death (though he hardly ever brings it up; it's kind of a quiet fear), and a little bit crazy. Theodore would let the world go to flames to keep himself and those he loves safe, but he loves more strongly and completely than could ever be put to words.

Emily Ana “Phoenix” Shifter, the spunky sweet firegirl. Named for her mother, Emily prefers to go by the stage name she uses when she performs with fire. It's one of her favorite things to do – grab a few sticks, rub 'em together with a match or two and dance around flaring with them. She does so for tips and performs at birthdays and parties when she can as she has absolutely no idea what she wants to do with her life – beyond opening a bakery, but the idea of settling down in one place like that rather frightens her, no matter how perfect her Shifterian Chocolate Chip Cookies may be. Phoenix is sharp as a tack, perky, bouncy, witty, open and buoyant. She is everything light and happy, completely optimistic in nature and a great sufferer of wanderlust with a longing for adventure. She's a terribly oblivious romantic at heart, and has a tendency to see the best in everything – sometimes over idealizing what something is to the point of heart break when she learns what is wasn't. Despite that setback, she sees the good in everyone and plays at it, drawing it out and brightening the world (both metaphorically and literally) wherever she goes. Phoenix has a temper she works really hard to keep a handle on, but if someone really pushes her buttons she'll go kind of crazy (word of advice: don't call her cute, don't call her 'Fifi', and don't you dare hurt someone she cares about). She's good at martial arts, knows how to hold a sword and can use it adequately (her father makes replicas of old-time weaponry and she couldn't resist goofing around with them a little. She can actually make sloppy swords if she words hard at it – all the heat and fire appeals to her – and is real good at making simple repairs), plays the flute, and is a bit of an acrobat. On the other side of things, she is one of the worst singings to ever curse the poor helpless Earth, thick crowds make her panic (especially indoors) and she hates being wet or cold. Overall Phoenix is just a kind hearted girl who wants to have a good time and really needs to find herself fast before she grows up and is still stuck performing on the streets. She's actually Theodore's granddaughter in my head - and she has a tendency to act snarky like him when annoyed – , but I doubt it'll ever come up in whatever story she features.

Fredric, or Freddy, or Fred, or the cheerful bloke Dear Sister gets a kick out of. The son of a sailor who is often off on his trips, he cherishes every moment he has with his family together. A bit of a sailor himself on occasion, Fredric loves nothing like the sea - endless and wild and lovely. He's jovial and light, always with a joke (though not always a particularly good one, he certainly seems to find them funny) and a bright smile on hand. Fred locks grief - when he ever feels it, which is rare - underneath his cheer, preferring to pretend everything is exactly the same as it was before and act accordingly. He's loyal and determined, though so easy going it's easy to sway him in his opinions - unless, of course, you're talking about someone he cares for, in which case Fredric is stuck as a boot in mud and no amount of pulling will make him budge. Near impossible to irritate but rather childish when he is such. Fred can get quite cold on occasion, particularly if he feels like someone is prodding underneath the happy-go-lucky exterior which is honestly his heart ninety percent of the time. Not particularly clever or particularly slow – he honestly doesn’t think about thinking most of the time –, he’s an excellent horseback rider and just a pleasant person to be around.

Phew! That took forever, heheh. But hey, I had fun writing it. Anyhow, these are some all-time favorites out of my characters. I hope you enjoyed reading about them as much as I enjoy writing about them.

Kings of Darkness Update

I worked on that book for almost three years, if you include the hours I poured into editing. The trouble was I honestly didn't know where I was going when I started – well, I knew how it was supposed to end and basic plot of the series, but what was the first book supposed to accomplish? What kind of missions would a band of Rebels go off on? I don't know.

What ended up happening were some cheesy, pointless, non-plot furthering scenes (including nympths, a 'Sword of Teer' that I made up COMPLETELY out of the blue, and time travel. No, I'm serious), pointless expeditions, and way too many characters (including a bratty sorceress, NYMPHS, and magical creatures). And then, a long, long while later I started rereading my story. Let's just say I was under impressed. My writing has, apparently, grown immensely since then and I have no intentions of associating my name with a sub-quality book - or rather, a book with which I know beyond doubt that I could do much, much better.

Then we have May Petersen, the main character. If you asked me about her, I would say: "She's an average multitalented girl average at everything she does besides solving mysteries (which she excels at) who gets sucked up into this magical land and has to help save the kingdom of Glorsifil from a tyrant King Ronan who doesn't seem quite - "

"No, no, Galaxy, I want to hear about what kind of person this 'May' is. What's she like?"

"Oh, oh! Well, she's got shoulder length auburn hair, emerald eyes, a square chin - " (I wrote this book before I cut my hair, I swear. Besides, my hair's too dusty to be auburn and my eyes to gray to be emerald. And my chin isn't square)

"No, Galaxy, you're doing it again. Tell me about her personality. Her traits."

Then there would be silence. I'd probably blink a couple times. If you asked me about any of my other original characters I could talk for hours about their personality alone.

"Um, well, she's resilient... nice... quick on her feet... and petrified of horses for the first five chapters while remaining jittery around them throughout the entire thing?"

As you can see, I have quite a few problems. The only thing I could think to do would be to totally rehaul everything - yes, everything - and write Kings of Darkness from scratch. Originally it was going to be four books all together: The Reining Night, A Glimmer of Light, Eclipse, and Dusk or Dawn, but now I'm noticing how I was trying to stretch out the first one in my mad attempts, and maybe if I just collapsed them all together it would make for a better, more action filled, less fluffy story.

I'm still figuring out how I'm going to execute all this, how I'm going to work it out, but I have to try. Because Fredric is in that book (and he's one of my favorites out of all the characters I've ever written), because I poured far too much of my heart and soul into that story to give up now, and because Mommy said abandoning K.o.D. was a "horrible, evil" thing, though she did express how much she doesn't like the fantasy genre.

And I guess that's all there is to it, but I promised an explanation, so there you have one. To do list: Manufacture a new main character, plot out what must be accomplished, feel out how many books it'll take (I'm hoping for only one, maybe two), and start once more. Mwahahahaahahaha.

In the meanwhile, I've got a newly published, very interesting, exciting sci-fi book called Project 6-1-2 with lots of awesome characters that you're absolutely welcome to read, buy, and review at this link here:

http://www.amazon.com/Project-6-1-2-Zoe-M-Alley/dp/1453617884/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1287770164&sr=8-1

It's ANOTHER Drawing!

I'm just so proud of how her clothes came out that I absolutely had to share it. This is Lyla Alden, the scariest psychologist to ever walk the Earth when she was a little older than I am. I'm coloring this on Photoshop now, but I'm not sure if I'm doing so well at it XD

Lemons

I was just remembering way back when every now and then when someone gave us a glass of water with a lemon in it Daddy would feed it to Wee Baby Brother1. I remember how his face just CRINKLED up and went all silly. It was so sweet. And then he'd ask for more. No, I'm not kidding - more.

Babies are brilliant. And then they grow up. And they get even more so! I love my boys, and I love my sis. I'm sure grateful to have'em, and all the beautiful (or just plan silly XD) memories the four of us share.

The Scariest Weapons Ever

Here’s a list of some of the scariest things EVER:


A bastard blob - the melted remains of a bastard sword. Old D&D pals for the game with Miranda, Levindar, Annabelle, and Metro will understand.

Dear Sister's glare - anyone who's felt it will understand.

A cumin spiced stake - those things can do DAMAGE when flying through the air. Just ask Zombie Julian from the Orderly Chaos role play game.

SPOONS - no, I'm not kidding.

Phoenix's Fire - especially after you've dared to TOUCH HER HAIR.

Teeth - I haven't dealt with vampires much. But from what I HAVE, my advice to you is to avoid the teeth. At all costs.

Mechanical pencils - bloody brutal to stab yourself with, if you ask me.

Geier's babies - you don't want to deal with that psycho vamp's swords. ESPECIALLY when he's wielding them. ESPECIALLY when he's irked. Geier belongs to Candyexorcist, by the way.

MP3 players with the sound on high - need more be said? Beyond 'MY EARS! MY EARS! I'M DEAF! GOD HELP ME! OOOOWW! OOOOOOOOW!', of course.

Millions and millions of questions asked one after another without time between to give an answer when you are expected to reply to all of them - kids, anyone? The worst part is it's just wrong to yell at them for this, because they're really actually curious, they don't mean any harm, and they're often really cute when doing so. BUT YOU DARN WELL WANT TO.

Mary's bag that is way too big to ever be called a purse - Dear Sister's fictitious character could deal real hit points with THAT monster.

Writers block - I swear, someone must have DIED from that biological (or would it be psychological?) weapon.

Cass's chemicals - that vampire alchemist sure has a bang. And half the time it involves half the city going up in smoke. Cassandra Larimar belongs to Octironstar.

Lyla's psychological manipulation - this psychologist likes to tear whatever is left of her vic-, er, clients' mental stability apart and then build it back up piece by painful piece. It works. But it hurts. No pain, no gain!

Drawing a comic but being too impatient to finish it when you really want to do so - I feel like screaming when this happens. Sometimes I do.
---

Okay, so maybe all these things aren't exactly weapons. And maybe half of them have to do with some of my RPGs. But they're ALL TRUE, and they’re ALL SCARY.

Old Posts

GAH I was just reading some of my older posts and I cringed. I wish I could go back and rewrite half of them. I feel like my writing has grown immensely since then and I am so glad I decided to start posting on here once more (mostly thanks to Mommy, who suggested I only check the forums I'm addicted to after I post. Hey! I should post about those sometime!), if only so I don't leave my Galaxy with only that to show.

Funny thing is that way back when I thought I was a great writer, so it's a little silly for me to feel so apprehensive about what I wrote now. I used WAAAAAAAAAAAAY too many ellipses so I'm trying to make a point not to use any nowadays if I can help it. Now, however, I'm using a ton of commas and - these really cool dash things - to add emphasis. And lots of italics, heheh.

So, as for new posts, I plan to talk about my latest obsession Orderly Chaos, why I decided to totally rewrite Kings of Darkness, swoon about my new favorite food ever, and moan about how I don't know what I'm going to be for Halloween. Stay tuned!

Monsters vs Aliens

I just watched a really, really cute movie for the second time. It's called Monsters vs Aliens and it was adorable. Eighty percent of the jokes made me grin widely if not laugh out loud and the characters were so endearing. I loved Link, even though he seemed a little useless in the beginning. But NO, he pulled more than his weight at the end, and he was gosh darn fun the whole time, too. I just loved his voice. And the DOC! He was brilliant – literally, too; he made a super computer out of two spray cans, a toaster, and a paper clip. And he laughs evilly. He does the mad scientist laugh. And he’s a good guy. What’s not to love? His voice was perfect for the part, too. Then there was B.O.B. the Blob – what a sweet, confused, brainless pile of gelatiness goop! Again perfect casting. And how could I forget dear Susan? Or, should I say, Ginormica. A sweet hearted, strong spirited, happily mindsetted heroine who I really adored. Must I mention they picked a wonderful voice to play the part once more?

Anyhow, PERFECT CASTING near all around, I think. A fun movie with a fun story and a fun cast of characters leading up to a fun ending. One of my favorite animated films, definitely – up there with WALL-E and How to Train Your Dragon. But I can’t compare it to The Iron Giant. Not yet. I’m not ready for that. (sniffs, tears up, starts getting shaky) I loved The Iron Giant.

I am an ARTIST

See, I would NEVER have dreamed to use the word 'artist' and the word 'me', 'I', or 'Galaxy' in the same sentence without being preceded by a negative. I was horrible. Utterly, completely, horrible.

And theeeeeeeeeeeeen Mr. Teatime, a childish sociopath from the discworld book and movie Hogfather, invaded my mind. Suddenly my brain was singing Draw him! Draw him! Draw him!

And, well, I tried to draw him. I started with anime since that's a pretty simple drawing technique I thought I could understand and catch on to with relative ease. I was never really happy with any of them and I think Brother1 and 2 destroyed all my sad attempts eventually, since I didn't put them anywhere safe (idiotic of me, I know). But I didn't really care.

And then, world be praised, I found devaintART. All these beautiful drawings I could use for reference! A bazillion pictures to search through and adore! A community of artists to share with and get tips from! *sighs* That was the coming of the beginning of the twist*.

Then I just sketched off someone else's Teatime drawing. And then I tried drawing an original character that had been running around in my head singing 'draw me' as well in a similar style. After that I was hooked - Daddy said I was drawing 24/7. And I almost was. If we were watching a movie, I was drawing. If I was lying in bed trying to sleep, I was drawing. If I was sitting in the living room thinking, I was drawing. If I was browsing the internet - I was drawing. You get my drift, I think.

Throughout all this mad artistry, I’ve been slowly developing my own style. And really, I still am. But now my art is rather different from most others. One day I want to draw realistically, in body shots and face works, but that’s going to take me a while – so I’m starting here, with a more cartoony approach. Recently I've been trying a more realistic style with only faces, and that's manifested in the few pictures just below these huge blocks of text. People say that approach suits me, so I'll probably be drawing a lot more of it. It’s also really really fun XD

And NOW. NOW at long last I can call myself an artist. I've worked hard for that. I'm just amazed at how I went from a horrible wannabe who HATED to draw, to an okay beginner who loves it with a passion in only a few months. And, unlike most my other obsessions, this has yet to fade away. I'm glad for that.

And that's my attempt at posting something interesting. I hope it was ;-)

*Sorry. Song line. Had to use it. SUCH A COOL SONG.


Phoenix Shifter, the farmgirl firegirl. I think I posted this pic already.

My attempt at drawing Dear Sister. Her jaw is way too far forwards and she looks much older than she actually does, but I can see the Her in this.



Cassandra Larimar, belonging to one Octironstar. Cass is a discworld original character, vampress, alchemist, and bipolar loony with good intentions and a caring heart.



Another one of those loonies. Lucia von Heidegger, belonging to me and Candyexorcist. She was a queen who went mad with the death of her husband and resorted to abdicating her throne and locking herself in a tower to perform sorcery far away. She is bold, brave, wise, snappy, tempermental, and very regal. Her curls drove me mad.

Does anyone read my blog anymore?

Not that there's anything wrong with NOT reading my blog. I have been on an unannounced hiatus for what feels like forever. But now I'm curious as to whether or not anyone's stopped by and read up on my posts. Please comment and say 'hi' if you have!

On another note, I'm still practicing piano. I really love doing it now. I've even written a couple songs! One is music Dear Sister can sing to (she has a lovely voice) and the other is slowly coming along. I'm not sure what to do after the first few bars. Anyhow, we're working on our band together, and maybe one of these days we'll actually have an album. Yaaaaaaaaaay!

A wish, sleep, and overall NOTHING really interesting

I wish, wish, wish-wish-wish that I could just start waking up at a reasonable hour. That's all I want. To wake up before ten. If I could wake up before ten, I'd be happy. Of course, I'd love to start getting up at 5AM, but that's rather unreasonable to go for when I can't seem to get up before 10AM. It's really really driving me nuts, and upsetting me horribly. I know there are lots of people who'd give anything to be able to sleep in to whenever they want, but I just want more daytime, especially since the sky is slowly darkening. I guess I'll have to work on it, especially since alarms do virtually no good for me (I sleep right through them or hit snooze or turn them off). Ugh.

Family Matters

These are some characters I invented and know very, very well – Phoenix Shifter, the spunky sweet country girl who can spout fire at will, and Theodore Rosefelt, her grandfather the snarky farmer. He's also a vampire (Ted was converted after Phoenix was born, so she isn’t ‘part vampire’ or anything like that) who seems only 25 in appearance, so that leads to confusion. He's also rather childish in a bratty sort of way and half mad due to traumatic events. But oh well. I love them both to death and this is a quick glimpse into their family life before Phoenix grew up (which is when I normally write her). I probably won't ever make a real book about either character, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun, does it now? ;-)

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It is a well known fact that animosity can kindle amongst even the happiest families – especially family by marriage (exempli gratia, the Red Headed Stepchild, the Wicked Stepmother, THE INLAWS(1)). However, when disaster strikes, even those who are less than cordially inclined with one another must band together – because, when it comes right down to it, they are family, and that’s all that really matters. Even when disaster is a lovesick firegirl who doesn’t know better.

“Theodore, I…” Emily curled her lips around her teeth, twisting her tongue and attempting to continue. The elder raised a brow at his daughter-in-law, sitting up on the counter of her(2) tiny kitchenette curiously. The family chef, mentally sighing in relief at the familiar ground and excuse to snap, fumed(3). “Get off the counters – what are you, six? Molly hasn’t been up there for years.”

Teddy – resisting temptation and avoiding conflict (only so he could get her to continue, of course) – slipped off the shelf. “Yes m’am. It’s sixty, actually. You were saying?” he answered flatly.

Sighing again – this time in anxiety – Emily continued. “I need your advice.”

The words hung in the air for a while.

“I’ll be glad to answer any questions of a parental nature,” Theo prodded. “I’ve dealt with three of the monstrous things, after all. Worse than vampires.”

“You’re telling me? Your children moved out years ago and made ones of their own. I’m the one dealing with the things. And by complaining about vampires you are complaining about yourself, aren’t you?”

“I can complain about myself if I want, can’t I? You wouldn’t believe how hard it is living with me.” Emily started to concede adamantly, but Ted interrupted. “You’re stalling.”

Another sigh. “Phoenix is…” she trailed off again, tugging angrily at her black locks in annoyance. “She’s…”

“Forgetting her chores?”

“Yes. But that’s not the causal issue. There’s more to it.”

“Do continue.”

“She’s also… singing, though that’s not the fact of the matter either.”

Teddy paled – as much as a vampire can pale, anyhow. He managed a purplish hue to his grayish skin. “Not singing. Not her.”

Right on cue, a loud, out of tune, more shout-like than musical chant reminiscent of a cat in a blender or nails on a chalk board echoed through the windows as fifteen year old Phoenix Shifter began skipping towards home from her father’s forge. Mother and grandfather flinched in the horrible racket.

“Go on,” he hissed through a scrunched face.

“It gets worse,” Emily assured. “She keeps Molly up all night talking.”

“That can’t really be avoided, can it?” Theodore put in. “They get on, they share a bed, Phoenix is a gabby young lady – of course they’ll talk. That’s not even close to as bad as her attempting to sing.”

“But she talks all night long. And that’s not the bad part – there’s a reason behind all of this. She only talks about – ”

“Carl!” Phoenix chimed, crashing through the front door with her arms spread wide and a foolish, loony grin plastered over her childish face. Being a teenager, having rounded features and small eyes didn’t really give the desired sense of maturity. The poor girl actually looked cute – a fact of which she was horribly aware. At least she had her fire. She would die if it weren’t for the dear flames Phoenix could somehow conjure at will – of that much she was certain.

“What now, girl?” Emily groaned.

“He smiled at me yesterday, Mommy! He smiled!” the young girl’s arms swept across her heart as she goggled at the thatched roof none too far above her grandfather’s head. Then she noticed her grandfather’s head. “Hi there, Gramps!”

Theodore, having the self restraint to keep his jaw up, gaped with the sheer incredulousness of his eyes alone. They flicked to Emily, who cocked her head in affirmation. Even if that weren’t so, Phoenix’s emotions sprang out in an obnoxiously clear fashion loud enough for the vampires in the next kingdom to hear –let alone the grandfather who had been there her entire life.

His granddaughter was in love. His Emily Ana “Phoenix” Shifter (should be Rosefelt, the damn stubborn mother’s-last-name-taking child) was attracted to and dreamy over some boy who made her feel fluttery enough to sing. Being overprotective even of his son, the idea of his granddaughter – who seemed just yesterday to have been a little babe cooing at flickering fire – romantically attached to someone was sickening.

So you want her to stop spending time with this Carl boy? he asked his daughter-in-law with a quick tilt of the head (tolerating one another for years had its benefits).

Of course. But I’d prefer it if the girl would only get back on top of her chores; Molly and I can’t take care of everything ourselves(4), Emily conveyed crabbily, folding her arms and sticking out a hip as she glared at her daughter.

Phoenix dimmed in confusion, wondering why everyone wasn’t as happy as she was.

Teddy barely kept form rolling his eyes at his daughter-in-law’s narrow-mindedness, but he had more important things to think about. Like his granddaughter being in love. I’ve got it covered, then.

I just want advice. I can take care of this myself, Emily sniffed.

I’ve got it covered, he repeated with a quick nod.

In a flash he snapped up his Phoenix’s long red braid and pulled hard. His granddaughter called out angrily as he started dragging her across what passed for a room (it was far too tiny to be a living room or a kitchen OR a dining room, but the Shifter-Rosefelts used it for all three) towards the rickety door.

Emily’s eyes widened. “Release my daughter this instant, Theodore! I will not stand for horseplay in my house!”

“Fine them, Emily.” He slipped out the front entry – a shrieking, irate, fiery Phoenix in tow.

“You bloody monster- let me go- what are you doing?!- LET GO OF MY HAIR!” she screeched.

Theodore was about to roll his eyes when she flamed up, making him leap back. “Emily!” he called out, glaring at the blisters forming where her fire had licked his skin.

“UUUGH!!” Phoenix stomped, fists clenched. “Don’t you ever, ever, ever touch my hair again!”

Theodore, shaking off how unsettled the fire made him feel, managed a shrug. “I just wanted to tell you that I completely support your possible relationship with this Edward and you are very welcome, in my opinion, to spend time with him whenever. Oh, and your mother’s bugging me. Please skip your chores to annoy her,” he added.

“UUUGH!” Phoenix repeated, before stalking off angrily to weed her mother’s herbal garden. Before she made it, she whirled around: “And it’s Carl! The only Edward I know is stuck up and rude.” Reminds me of someone, she thought haughtily.

Teddy wiped off his hands in nervous satisfaction as she steamed away, wondering how many more times that trick would work before she (a) caught on or (b) burned him to a pile of ash. Because of this pondering, he missed the looming cloud of Emily until the hard slap hit his face, bringing him back to reality.

“I don’t know how you ran things in your family, but this is mine, Rosefelt, and I don’t care if you’re nineteen or a 102 - you will do as I say under my roof or with my children,” she snarled vehemently, glaring something terrible.

Theodore, one hand to his stinging cheek, wisely refrained from mentioning the two or three snide remarks bouncing around his head. Instead, he only pointed delicately to the literally fuming Phoenix doing her chores in the garden. Emily, not having the restraint of her father-in-law, dropped her jaw. She slapped him again before marching inside and slamming the door.

Ted found himself questioning his family’s taste in romantic partners, which eventually started him pondering whether or not Phoenix would ever forgive him if he scared this Carl out of town. Should be easy enough, with the teeth and all. That’s when, under the glint of lovely moonlight, quiet Christopher came out of his forge and started towards the garden.

“Hi, Dad,” he greeted softly.

“Our(5) Emily is in love.”

“I know. She was singing in the forge,” Christopher smiled. “You should listen to her talk about him. It sounds straight out of one of those romance novels my Emily always tells me about.”

“You’re all right with this atrocity?” Theodore blinked.

“Hell no. But it’s just a crush; it’ll pass.”

Teddy ran a hand through his scraggly red hair in annoyance. “Damn waiting. I hate waiting. They say you’re supposed to get patient with age. I just get this rushing feeling. Like I need to keep fighting because every second I have is something stolen, something I shouldn’t. Like I’m supposed to be dead and gone by now.”

“Lots of people live passed your age – immortal or not,” Chris assured gently, tinges of worry crossing his bearded face.

“I don’t want to die. I don’t plan on dying. Not ever, not if I can help it. Death is what I’m afraid of.”

“Daaaaaaaaa-dddddddddddddy!” wailed a voice from a nearby tiny window in Christopher’s tiny, tiny cottage. A pretty face framed with short black hair and bangs peered through the shutters, slightly panicked. “Daddy there’s a spider! And a cobweb!”

Christopher shrugged at his father, who managed a weak smile, before jogging off to the window to rescue his little Molly. Ted, taking a deep breath, trudged over to Phoenix with his hands in his pockets, mindful of Emily’s herbs (if only to keep from being slapped again).

“Hi, Phoenix,” he said, calling her by her preferred name to get on her good side. She shot him a nasty look and stuck out her tongue before continuing her work. He rolled his eyes before remembering what he came here for and sitting down beside her. “I’m a might mad. Not mad mad. Crazy mad. Due to that, I act a little oddly.”

“I know,” Phoenix grumbled.

He coughed awkwardly before shoving out the words as fast as possible. They mixed up and tumbled incomprehensibly, but it was supposed to be along the lines of: “I’m sorry for pulling your hair.”

She ignored him, flicking her red, orange, and golden hair (tied up in a loose braid) over her shoulder crabbily. He ruffled haughtily before continuing.

“But you did get it from me, didn’t you? So technically it’s mine,” Theo added flatly.

Phoenix shot upright from her weeding, scandalized. “I inherited my hair from my father, Grandpa! Not you.”

Teddy shrugged. “And he got it from me before that.”

“But it’s on my head!”

“Which you also got from me, judging by how stubborn you are.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes.

“And that, too,” Ted pointed out triumphantly. “I do that all the time.”

“I don’t go around pulling people’s hair.”

“You don’t, eh? I said I was sorry.”

She huffed. “I wouldn’t ever forgive you if your anniversary(6) wasn’t coming up. You get horrible then.” Ted shut up, folding his long fingers together as his eyes shot down. Phoenix sighed. “I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again.”

“Rosefelt! Phoenix!” Emily’s loud voice called. “The tarts are ready!”

Heads flipping to one another with excited grins, grandfather and granddaughter raced into the house and nearly knocked over the rickety nightstand that passed as a table in their hurry to sit. Emily sighed and served up the family – including Theodore, Phoenix, Molly, Christopher, and herself. Mouths watered until the woman of the house sat and took her first bite, allowing everyone else to dig into the pure delicacies.

“I simply love it, Mommy,” Molly cooed. Emily gave her daughter a quick smile.

“I think it’d be a bit better with a tad less sugar; it’s not quite tart enough for a tart,” Phoenix put in. “But it’s definitely divine.”

Emily glared at her eldest, Teddy and Christopher being too busy eating to talk.

Of course, looking back on the opening paragraph, sometimes families just go to hell no matter what you do. But they manage. Because in the end they’re family, and they’re stuck loving one another

----

(1)No more need be said.

(2)Despite being built by Christopher’s own hands, there was absolutely zero doubt as to whether or not his wife was the soul wielder of anything with culinary uses – no matter how good Phoenix was getting.

(3)Not nearly so literally as her daughter could, however.

(4)Emily had an odd complex where she felt anything she didn’t see someone do was something they didn’t actually do (at least according to her subconscious). Christopher did all his work in the forge, Theodore did all his work in his fields, and Phoenix usually liked to help out the men of the household, while Molly did everything with her mother. Because of this, Emily came out thinking everyone besides herself and her youngest daughter were lazy do-nothings. This led to complications.

(5)Theodore had troubles with Phoenix’s nickname. Her name was Emily, even be it her mother’s as well. She should be called by it, gosh darnnit. So when he spoke possessively of an Emily, it was always his granddaughter, and whenever he spoke of the original Shifter – the one who had convinced his Emily to take on a foreign family name – it was 'your'.

(6)This would be another anniversary as a widower for Theodore. He was immortal, yes, but the one woman he ever loved hadn’t been.

Ten Minutes

No, seriously. Ten minutes.

I wanted to slash that train with a hatchet. A hatchet, I tell you!!

See, my family and I were driving away to have some fun downtown when THE TRAIN came. After a while of sitting around as it slowly passed by, Mom glanced at the time. TWELVE MINUTES later it was still chugging along. Mommy actually got out of the car to look and see if the end was in sight. By then it was, thank goodness. Still. Ten minutes?

Music

Being a crazy, crazy teen, I've been VERY into music of late. Some of my favorite bands are Shinedown, Evanescence, Solas, Snow Patrol, Three Doors Down, Flyleaf, Breaking Benjamin... wonderful groups like that. I love music with heavy beats and a catchy melody, or pretty voices mixed with hard guitars and drums (Evanescence all the way), and Celtic I near always find lovely. I'm not a Lady Gaga fan, nor so much into hip-hop, rap, or country. But there are always a few good songs in every genre, at some point at least. Speaking of which, I have far too many favorite songs to list, but Rooftops is truly glorious, and you should blast that right now yourself. "... All the love, I've met - I have no, regrets. If it all, ends now, I'm set. Will we make our mark, this time? Will we always say, we tried? Standing on the rooftops, everybody scream your heeeeeeeeeart oooooooout..."

Did I mention I was a published author yet? Oh, wait, I have. *sniffs* There's a link on my sidebar if you want to check out my book ;-)

I can draw now!

...In that my drawings aren't horrible failures anymore. I'm actually okay, I think. Do you know what it took? (you'll hate me:) PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE. And more practicing like crazy. Daddy said I was drawing 24/7 at one point.

Here are a couple sketches (some old, some new) that I'm rather happy with:

This is Phoenix Shifter. She's a spunky sweet countrygirl that can spout fire at will.

That's Chibi Dear Sister and me. Chibi is a cutesy style I use when I'm lazy.

This is Phoenix again. I kind of gave up when I got to the collarbone.

This one is a bit awkward, but I like it nevertheless. She's Aletheia Pierce, a gypsy daughter of Hermes (Ancient Greek God of anything that travels the road - diplomats, thieves, tricksters, thieves, merchants, THIEVES... et cetera.).

Again, Aletheia. Only now she's with her father.

---

So I've got tons more where that came from. But these are just a few of the ones that I can look at without screaming in horror. Thanks for checking 'em out, and do comment!

A Series of Tiny Updates

First in my long list of things I just need to update you all about is that I’ve cut my hair. Only this time I didn’t cheat and cut it from uber long to normal; see, now it’s above my shoulders. It’s only ever been this short when I was a little girl, as I spent the first ten years of my life growing it out. Or something like that.

So… I’ve cut my hair. I’ve still got two brothers, not three or another l’il sis, but those two are some of the handsomest, sweetest, cutest things to grace this Earth and I am so glad to have them. Dear Sister is still my very best friend, and she’s been keeping me up half the night gabbing. Once, she threw balled up tissues at me from her loft bed when I refused to talk and tried to get some sleep. Gee. Unfortunately, I’m not much better when it comes to chit-chit-chatting all night, so I can’t lop all the blame on to her. I can, however, with all the maturity I can muster, logically point out, she started it.

I am now a crazy crazy teen. Yip, I really really am, being a good fifteen years old. I want to get a job in a coffee shop of some kind, because despite the fact that I don’t actually drink the stuff, I sure love how it smells (particularly in the morning). I also want to get a driver’s permit, which I’m actually old enough to do. FIRST I’ve got to get around to reading that driver’s manual, which is… taking a while. But I’ll do it eventually.

I guess that’s all I’ve got to spew out for NOW; I’ll be saving the rest for later. Don’t forget, though – I’m now a published author and if you checked out my book I’d squeal with glee! There’s a link on the sidebar, or right here, too: http://www.amazon.com/Project-6-1-2-Zoe-M-Alley/dp/1453617884/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1286659923&sr=8-1