I spent the day as a hipster in training and liked it.

I shouldn’t have postponed the story I was working on the other night. I lost track of my transition idea, so it will be put off until I can figure out a new one.

I should be taking this week off of posting on the blog, because the last week of each month is supposed to be dedicated to storyboarding the NaNoWriMo project. I feel bad though, not posting regularly last week, so I’ll make up for it this week.

I spent yesterday with my bestie nakamarama, KC. I met her at an anime event at our local mall years ago and I couldn’t wish for a better friend. She calls me out when I am being to negative for any reason and I can trust her to be truthful, even if it might not be what I want to hear. I completely adore her and everything about her. My day with her was exactly what I needed to feel recharged.

After I battled my way down the Turnpike and I-4, I arrived at KC’s parents’ house in the second twistiest housing development I’ve ever been in. To anyone who has ever lived in Ocala, The Silver Springs Shores still holds the first place. When I got inside, the first hug of the day was stolen by her parents’ big white boxer, Casper. This big old puppy was amazing. I spent a solid 10% of my time there just petting him.

Yes, I’m that person. I’m the pet greeter. To be honest, I love it when a dog is so excited that they jump up on me to say hi. I will forever call any dog around me puppy. Might even have that written on my tombstone, after I die of a great dane or mastiff suffocating me.

First place we hit up was this amazing Brazillian place called Giraffas. Really unique experiance in Florida, plus the lead waiter liked Pokemon. Next time I get a chance to go down, I’m bringing a Staryu and Starmie for KC to give to him.

After lunch, we went to Artegon Mall. This mall is like no other you have ever seen. With only a few big name stores inside, the rest of the mall is dedicated to small business owners and their wares. Predominantly artisinal creators, there was everything from handmade moroccan fashions to sustainably farmed honey. Art installations covered the walls, as well some buried away deep in the aisles of the shops. This is place that warrants several return trips, and time to spare. Not to mention money, as there is a massive comic and gaming shop called Gods & Monsters.

The day got really hot around this time, so we headed back to KC’s to avoid melting and rest. I dozed off during Space Dandy at some point. I was also introduced to Aggressive Retsuko, a new Sanrio property. Please go check it out.

When the day finally cooled down some, we hit up the Old Town car show and shops along the road. I took home some seriously cute swag, as well as having the greatest breadsticks I have ever eating.

So rambling and disjointed tonight. I have dozed off twice typing this, so I am calling it a night, lovelies.

Talk to ya later!

Excuses, excuses, you hear them every day!

My schedule at work has been kind of loopy for the past few days, but I hope to get back on track by this weekend. I'm not going to be totally derailed by this!

Forgive me for being unprofessional about this but sadly, my day job calls. I have to be back at work in less than 7 hours and I just got off work 2 hours ago.

I'll make it up, I promise!


Sleep well and sweet dreams, lovelies!

Rattle and bumbling in my head lately.

LE GASP, LOVELIES!!!

You’re getting a two parter today! I’ve got some errands to run with Jaya, so have part 1 now an part 2 before I go to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Over the hum of the street below, Kavi could still hear the whistle of the wind on the other side of the window. Her fingers tingled with cold as she traced circles on the glass. The windows glowed with the setting sun. In the room behind her, Ayanna fussed with her computer, muttering about bad wifi.

Kavi glanced back at her cousin, fingers pausing on the pane of glass. Ayanna was elbow deep in coding, surrounded by a thicket of empty soda cans and snack bags. The way to the hotel room door was clear, save for a few empty wrappers. Kavi stood up straight and walked to the mirrored closet, tugging on a thick winter coat.

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” Ayanna snapped her laptop shut, her eyes trained on Kavi. “Popaw said to stay in the room matter what.”

Kavi took a deep breath, praying her voice wouldn’t shake. “I know. But he won’t be back til after midnight, he said so.” She zipped up the thick coat and pulled her two black braids out from under the collar. “That’s enough time for me to go see the City Gardens.”

Ayanna hopped off the bed to stand over her smaller cousin. “Kavixi Starfell, what do you see in that mirror?”

Kavi stared up into her cousin’s eyes. “What’s that gonna prove, Aya?”

“Just humor me.” Ayanna crossed her arms.

Rolling her eyes, Kavi turned to face the mirror. Large brown eyes watched her from the reflection. Her broad dark face sloped into a blunt muzzle, with a thick black nose at the tip. Two short tusks curved up from either side of her bottom jaw. Shaggy black hair fell down her shoulders in two thick braids, thinning into a long blaze of fur down her spine to the tip of her tail. Thick set shoulders and hips gave her a wide frame and bulky shape. Her eyes traced over the same face she had stared at for years, with the same thoughts crowding the back of her mind as always.

“I see a Starfell clan female.” She would not look Ayanna in the face.

“I see a young one who doesn’t want to believe the dangers of going out among humans.” Ayanna turned Kavi to face her. “Why are you trying to disobey Popaw?”

Kavi kept her eyes glued to the floor. “If I go out with my jacket and a scarf, no one will see me. I’ll just be another human bundled up against the cold.” She raised her eye to Ayanna’s. “I just want to go the Gardens. It would only be for an hour or two. Please.”

The taller female stepped back, crossing her thick arms again. “Tell me.”

“Please, I begged Popaw to take me along so I could go to the Gardens tonight.” Everything rushed out at once, in a long breathless, half crying plea. “It’s only tonight, Warlike Masquerade is playing there tonight, tomorrow they go on a year long worldwide tour! If I don’t see them now, I never will!”

“The band? That one you’re always on about?” Ayanna dropped her arms. “All this for a show?”

Kavi sucked on her lip, staring at her cousin. “Please.”

“Fine!” Ayanna threw her hands up. “But you have to be back in 2 hours. And don’t turn off your cell. If Popaw calls me, I’m calling your butt back here.”

With a whoop, Kavi hugged her cousin. The younger female grabbed a thick woven scarf and doubled it around the lower half of her face, hiding the tusks and protruding muzzle. Over her stubby horns she pulled on a knit cap and the deep fur lined hood over that, obscuring the top of her face in shadow. When she looked back into the mirror, all Kavi could see were her own brown eyes.

She had the door open and was halfway out the door before Ayanna’s voice called her back again. “Tuck in your tail, you mooncalf, it’s waving like an idiot’s battle flag!”

~~~~~

Be back later, Lovelies!!!!

In which I write something sappy.

I’ve begun to realize that my opening statements on this blog rarely match the main content. I can only explain this by saying I don’t proofread.

I’m going to go a bit more realistic tonight. I usually write very fantastical stories, full of magic. Part of this project is to come out of my comfort zone, so lets do just that.

~~~

I can’t remember if Mom or Dad ever read any normal bedtime stories to us. I know they probably did, but to my sister and me, there will only be one bedtime book.

Every night before bed, Dad would get a small book of poetry off the shelf. It was battered and tattered at the edges, with the pages yellowed and brittle. Green canvas covered the cardboard covers, making it rough to the touch. There was no cover slip, and the writing on the spine had faded to the palest hint of gold. To my mind as a child, it had no title and needed none. It simply called the Treasure.

Our father would carefully thumb through the pages, skimming past literary greats. With a voice soft and sad, he would read the words of Walt Whitman, lamenting the death of his Captain. He would bring to lyrical life Edward Lear’s Owl and the Pussycat, taking a set of twins in the boat with those sweet lovers. On darker nights, he would bring fear, creeping with Raven as it screamed “Nevermore” to an insane man. We could not and would not tolerate Goosebumps, but Edgar Allen Poe was allowed to scare us, warm and snug in our beds.

The poem I remember as a true bedtime poem though, is one my mom would read to us as well. By Lord Tennyson, Sweet and Low is slow and gentle. When read aloud, the speaker immediately falls into the perfect cadence, a swaying way of speaking, reminiscant of waves. I remember Mom reading it to us one night, when Dad was working the night shift at Emergency One. We were sitting in the living room, just before bedtime. Amber pulled the book off the shelf and begged Mom to read something out of it. By the light of the lamp on the end table, she read the short poem, of a woman telling her children their father will be home soon.

It’s been many years since we moved past that time in our lives. Somehow, in the moves and all the shuffling that occured over the years, I managed to end up with that little green book. The little bit of gold scrollwork is completely gone from the cover but for the moment, it’s mine. I say it that way because eventually, it won’t be. I made a promise to my sister; when she has children, I will gladly give her the book, so the tradition can continue.

~~~~

I can never thank my parents enough for introducing us to literature at such an early age.

I think the piece is a bit weak tonight but it gives a bit of insight into who I am and why. If it were not for that little green book, I would be very different. I really believe that.

Sleep well, lovelies. 

Creepypasta

No joke, I have been staring at this page for 20 minutes already, unable to create anything. I have, instead, eaten a butterscotch frosted donut and ingested sweet tea. At 2 am, when I have to be at work at 10 am. I do not adult well. I keep saying it because it’s true.

~~~~~~

I write my songs on the walls of broken hearts

with teardrop ink and promises whispered.

I travel past your shuttered eyes, careless

of your nightmares, awakened and hungry.

I devour dreams and spill forth terror,

wrenching from sleep your peace and calm.

I creep down walls of paint and plaster, claws

leave no scratch but rasp your heightened senses.

You scrunch eyes tighter, praying I am nothing

more than trees, a sleight of light, distraction.

You hunker down, blankets close and shielding

from my eyes glowing, gleaming in the corner.

You speak aloud, to yourself confirming, sycophantic

in your attempts to gather tranquil and soft serenity.

You balance precarious between sanity and impossible,

fighting, the urge of panic and survival rising in your throat.

~~~~~~

Yep, kind of creeped myself out with that one. I don’t really know where that came from.

I honestly didn't even proofread this.

“I promised a friend a fluffier piece today, so I will take a stab at it. At one time, I only wrote funny stories. Can’t be that hard to go back, right?”

I typed that 15 minutes before my air conditioner shut down. Just wow. Not normally a major incident for someone, but it is a big deal to me. I have a grumpy and fluffy ball of fur known as a chinchilla. (Her name is MochiMallow) If you don’t know what a chinchilla is, go Google it. Google search the babies. They have so much forehead it’s insane.

Now that you’re probably wondering why I told you image search the baby chinchillas, I will get back on topic. A chinchilla can’t get over 70-75 degrees or they will have heat stroke. This is due to their lack of sweat glands. They have no internal way of regulating body temperature, like sweating, or panting. Nor can you get them wet really, because they have a tendency to mildew. That comes from having a ton of fur. The fur is so dense that it doesn’t dry quickly.

So when I realized the air conditioning had gone down, I went into action. After tossing Mochi into a cat carrier, I threw some kind of combination of work clothes into a bag with my tablet and phone and booked it to my sister’s house. I’m still there. Jaya is helping me keep my cats fed and watered, so Punk and Morgana are well taken care of.

My AC will by fixed by morning hopefully and I can get back into my writing schedule. I feel bad already using up my two days off this week by accident.

But in other news, I am starting a side projection with my Nakama. Should be fun. That will post twice a week, when we get the details hammered out.

So in an effort to post something funny-ish, I shall post bios on my three pets.

~~~~~

Morgana

Nicknames: Fattyface, Sugarbutt, Bebegirl, MorNaNa, NanaFace

Age: 7 years

Weight: Fatty fatty bombalatty

Color: Black

Likes: Tuna, Roast Beef, Milk, Pettings, Eggs, Chicken, Scratchies, Catnip, Cottage Cheese, Yogurt, Visitors, People, Singing, Bacon, PTX, Cheese, Oreo filling….

Dislikes: Any other cat ever, baths, the vacum cleaner, getting splashed, being under blankets.

Punkin Muffin

Nicknames: Punk, Punkie Junkie, Junkie Butt, Punkerell Q Fatbutt, Bobo, Bubby

Age: 5 years

Weight: Somewhere over the Rainbow, we don’t know

Color: Orange and orange and orange

Likes: Chin scratchies, Back scratchies, his Shiny Red Love, hiding under hanging blankets or skirts

Dislikes: The outside, Door bells, Knocking on the door, Visitors, Cheese, his cat carrier

MochiMallow

Nicknames: Mochi, MochiDoch, Miss Bit, Fussyface, Furmagheddon

Age: Somewhere between 3 and 4

Weight: One cloud fart

Color: Beige with Crimson eyes (Not Albino)

Likes: Raisins, Cranberries, Stealing socks and pens, Rosemary sticks, Dust baths, Punk

Dislikes: Morgana, Loud noises, warm weather, any predator, Me most of the time

Ok, I’m so done for tonight. Laters all ya’ll crazyfaces.

What even am I doing?

So this is what came out of my brain today. Hour and a half of writing without editing. So tired, not even gonna edit it now but I blew that word count out of the water tonight. 

This is considerably darker than most of my other stuff, just so you know. 

~~~~~

Incense gave a slight tang to the air as waitresses swept by. Dodging patrons and each other, women placed cups of bright liquids at a table, before flitting to the next in line. Perfumed smoke drifted around the heads of the diners, coming from pots on the walls. Soft chatter rose in small waves from each table, overlapping and mixing until all that could be heard from the stage was a muted buzz. Mona pulled the center curtain back an inch more, peering into the dim dining space.

“It’s funny. All these humans paying a premium to come here, drink watered down Nectar, and hobnob with ‘supernatural beings’.” Mona dropped the curtain and adjusted her pallu, the long swathe of fabric hanging over a shoulder on her saree. “Don’t you think it’s funny, Benny?”

The stage manager glanced up from his lists. “Very funny. Are you ready to go? Your set is starting in a minute.”

“Yes, I’m ready.” She rolled her eyes and moved to her curtain mark. Squaring her shoulders, she flipped the curtain aside, gliding on stage.

Mona heard a gasp pass around the room as the patrons noticed her, one by one. She twisted around a bit, to bring the full length of her lower half into view. She could feel their stares on her, from the bottom of her saree, along all ten feet of her snake-like body, scales that gleamed in the dim light. The room fell silent as she hissed into the microphone softly. “Sssso nice to see everyone tonight. My name is Simone and I’ll be your dinner entertainment tonight.”

The band began to play an old Bollywood classic as she began to dance, her long body curling over itself in soft shapes. After a few minutes, Mona began to sing as her eyes scanned the crowd. The more seasoned diners soon went back to their meals and conversations, while the new comers stared in awe. Ever so often, Mona would wink at one of the humans staring at her and make them blush, man or woman. She also kept an eye on the wait staff, moving in and out of the tables. The lead waitress would point at this person or that, leaving a small red or pink flower on their table.

Mona’s green eyes narrowed as she spotted a man place his hand a waitress’ rear. The waitress, a small faerie named Webbie grabbed his hand and pushed it away. From the stage, Mona could see his face get red but she couldn’t hear what was happening. Webbie moved away from the table, clutching her tray tight, her wings shaking. Mona glanced at the side of the stage to see Benny angrily shaking his head. Swallowing her fury, Mona smiled bright and continued to sing.

At the end of her set, Mona slithered off the stage onto the dining floor, to make her rounds of the diners. She gave the tables with the red flowers a wide berth, while stopping and chatting at the tables with a pink blossom.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mona saw the man who accosted the waitress stand up and head to the back of the room. She tracked him until he passed from her line of sight. She took a less direct path, weaving between tables and patrons, taking a quick moment here and there to place her hand on a shoulder or murmur a word of thanks. When she reached the back, Mona found the delivery door ajar, propped open with a wet floor sign. Inching the door open, she peered out onto the loading dock.

The human had Webbie pinned face first against the wall, with one of her arms twisted up between her shouler blades. From the door, Mona could hear the small fae’s muffled sobs.

“Please, I’m so sorry.” Webbie whispered. “I didn’t mean it, please.”

“Oh, you meant it alright. You stupid little brat, how dare you try to call me out in front of my wife.” The human growled. His hand wrenched Webbie’s arm higher as he pushed her face further into the wall. “I should take this out of you hide, you-”

With a low hiss, Mona launched herself from the door. She hit the human with a full five yards of unchecked fury and slammed him into the concrete wall beside Webbie. As the fae stumbled away, Mona held the man, wrapping his legs and body tight in her coils. She gripped his face with her nails, turning him to face her.

“Whose hide are we going to be dealing in?” Her voice a soft threat, Mona dragged a long, sharp nail down the side of his face. After a moment of silence, she hissed louder, shoving his face into the cold concrete of the wall. “Well?”

The man started to blubber. “Puh-Please. Oh god, are you gonna kill me? Don’t do that, I can pay you. Please, I’m sorry!” She could feel his tears dropping onto her scales as she coiled tighter.

“That sounds very familiar. But you didn’t accept it when Webbie apologized, did you?” Her voice took on a crooning note. “Why don’t we try this conversation again?”

She turned him around, so he could see Webbie huddled by the delivery doors, holding her wrist to her chest. “Apologize to her.” Mona leaned in close, so her breath brushed his ear. “Make it convincing.”

“Please, I’m sorry, please make her let me go, I’ll never do it again. I’ll never drink again, I’ll be nice to ladies, I’ll even call my mom every week. Just please, don’t let her kill me, please.” He sobbed, staring at Webbie.

Mona watched the small fae nod, tears streaming down her face. “Webbie is so much nicer than me. I’m more inclined to deal out what you deserve.” She chuckled. “But that may just be the hunger talking.”

The man started to sob out an apology again before the naga cut him off. “But what say we make a deal. First, you leave Webbie a considerable tip, say $1000? Then you never come back here, ever again.” Her fangs brushed his throat a bit. “How’s that sound?”

He stammered something that resembled consent. Mona smiled. “If we see you here again, consider this verbal contract null and void. Now go back inside, settle your check and have a peaceful night.”

She uncoiled her body from him and shoved him to the door. With one eye on him stumbling inside, she glided up to Webbie and wrapped an arm around her. “Hey hun. Lets get you fixed up.”

With a sniffle, Webbie followed Mona through the employee’s door across the loading dock. “Um, Mona, would you have really… Really eaten him?”

Mona glanced back at her with a fang flashing smile. “Of course not. I abstain from meat on Thursdays.”

~~~~~~

I don't even know. I hope I didn't offend my Indian friend with this story. I love her to death.

I just started out with an idea of a nightclub singer in a club that caters to humans and non humans alike. Then it came out as this. I don't even.

I didn't make up anything strange or odd in this one, I promise.

I have a tendency to devour books. I usually peruse a lot of free classics, as well as some rather questionable free or severely discounted gems on the Amazon bookstore. I got to read the entire 14 book series of Frank L. Baum’s Oz novels this way, as well as trying to slog my way through the translated Les Mis. Not an easy task.

As an avid reader, I know I’m about to hang myself when I say before the movie came out, I had never read Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card. I loved the movie and Ender himself, the isolated genius who knew he had to sacrifice himself to save humanity. I realized I had to read the book as well, in order to do the story justice. You know the ancient nerd adage… “The book was way better than the movie.”

I devoured Ender’s Game in a matter of hours. Skimmed back to the start of the Ebook and read it again slower, over the course of days. This was a couple of years ago, so I felt the need to reread it just a month or so ago. I redownloaded my Kindle book and loved it again, as expected. But in the back, just past the final page, there was a sample of another book that had been added since my last download. Seemed interesting, so I bought it.

I have spent every break, every spare moment in a long line, or just any little inbetween second I can spare reading The Lost Gate. Obviously by Card as well, it is about a boy named Danny who lives with his very very extended family of mages somewhere in the rural Eastern US. This story is about Danny trying to find himself in a world he feels has no connection to him, as well as great wars between the great mage families, demigods and drowthers (aka muggles for the HP inclined out there).

Check it out! That exclamation means go do it now!

I’m so sleepy, I’ll just leave it at that and cheat a little, counting this as my 6/03 entry. Clearly it is the fourth but oh well.

How even do titles? Magpie fairy I guess?

I wanted to cop out on the writing today. I really did. Long hectic day at work, traffic and heinous heat throughout the day. I feel like I can barely put together sentences, let alone meet a simple word count goal for today. The problem is, I promised another person I wouldn’t skip a day. Plus, what kind of person would I be if I failed on day two?

Don’t answer that.

I’m just going to put up a quick blurb about a character that I wrote about a little while back, the magpie fairy. I still don’t have a name for her, honestly.

…..

Light filtered in through the attic window, hitting the spinning mobile of colored glass and stones. Rainbows flew across the bare wood floors, bouncing and skipping across the magpie’s closed eyes. With a groan, she pushed her cloak of feathers off and rolled off the hanging nest. Her body twisted to bring knobby knees under her before hitting the floor with a muffled thump.

Her fingers raked black hair from her face, pushing and pulling it into a knot at the base of her neck. Fishing a ribbon from the tangled pile that was her nest, she tied it tight. With a kick or two, she scavenged some dark clothes to wrap around herself and tossed her feather cloak over top.

She twined her fingers through the strings of the mobile, twisting the stones and glass this way and that, humming under her breath. The lights flickered over her face and hands, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. In the center of the mobile hung a fat chunk of crystal, gleaming and shining bright. As she hummed, the light from the smaller stones dimmed and the crystal grew brighter. It blinked in the light, sending spots of light around the small space. The motes of light slowed and took shape on the rough wooden boards. Four long legs and two arms appeared in the spots of light, then a long mane of hair and tail. In the vision’s hand lay a sword.

The magpie perched back on her heels. She looked back up at the still turning knob of crystal then back at the picture picked out in tiny glittering lights. Her own voice was hollow and alien to her ears as she mused aloud. “I’m not to keen on picking up a job that has me crossing paths with a centaur, not to mention her being armed an’ all.”

The crystal kept an unbreakable silence, twisting in the still attic air.

“Fine, I’ll check it out. But don’t be blaming me if I don’t come back for a while.” She strode to the small window and pushed it open. The wind ruffled her feathers as she gathered the cloak around her and jumped in the air.

………

What is with me and cliffhangers? I don’t even know. I promise I’ll do something worthwhile eventually.

In which I talk about silly things.

I’ve called myself a writer since I was 10. Long before that though, I liked to make up stories and bring my sister into them. I would supply the world, setting, and general direction, while she would fill in the more human roles. She would also create characters to act as a foil for my own. Back then, they were usually princesses on journeys of great import, bound for heroic sacrifice and epic adventure. They were all hopelessly naive. My sister would usually create characters that were a bit more street smart and wary, ready to believe you but trust still had to be earned.

We had fun. Despite looking crazy and being “those twins”, we loved it. It was our thing, our personal story book that no one else could read, because it was only in our hearts. Not that we always got along while doing this. More than once or twice, we got into screaming matches because we both wanted to lead the story that day, or some other reason, very valid at the time.  We fought over so many things in our lives, it was only natural to fight over this as well. So inevitably when one of us called it off ‘forever’, it would only be a few days. Then she would sneak into my room and away we’d go, to another planet or dimension.

I still cherish every one of those characters, even the ones I’ve forgotten the names of. They are a reminder of a time when I learned just how limitless my imagination could be. If it weren’t for my sister constantly playing along, I doubt I would be the person I am today. Sounds cliche, but every word of that statement is completely true.

Amber, I hope you can forgive me for rambling on this. I spilled the beans. I simply wanted to start my project where I started, whispering silly stories to my twin sister.