Ciri

A hooded figure, doubled over under the weight of a huge backpack hides in the doorway of the room. Only when the lights go off does she hesitantly step inside, making sure to pick just the right moment when everyone is focused on the movie. I STILL don't see why I have to do this, she thought to herself. I don't have a problem! I've just been busy, that's all. Yeah yeah, suuuuure. And the Big W is giving all his geld to the Home for Inter-dimensional Orphans, taking a vow of celibacy, and is gonna be voted the next Bachelor of the Month, came the acidic mental echo. Face it, we both know you're a procrastinator, a lurker, and a responsibility shirker. Rici paused, then began slyly, Huh, well whaddaya know, I'm a poet and I - Enough! Enough! Fine, I'll stay. But I don't want to speak. Ciri, you heard the man! The first step is just admitting -Well you're a real tough cookie with a long history/of breaking little hearts like the one in me...Damnit! Don't drown me out with songs that...That's okay let's see how you do it... get stuck in your...put up your dukes let's get down to it...AUUURGH! Ciri mentally set the song on loop, effectively drowning out her subconscious imaginary personality, before setting down her backpack and sitting in a seat tucked into a corner just as the lights switched back on. She surreptitiously glanced about, first at the guilty-looking, forlorn individuals, then at the speaker, and privately prayed no one would call on her so she wouldn't have to admit - no, not admit. She didn't have a problem lurking. She was just here because Rici made her come. She didn't have a problem. Really. She didn't. It wasn't lurking! She slumped a little lower in her seat...

So I'm still swamped with schoolwork...but I have a sort of challenge for all you writers out there. Call it "myth-making," and a more in-depth explanation can be found here The short form of it is, pick any natural phenomenon and create a story or poem as to why it is the way it is. To go with familiar examples: thunder is the sound of god bowling, or the reason spiders spin webs is because Arachne challenged a goddess and was transformed into the first spider. Then post 'em here! Have fun!

All right, mythmakers. The whole reason I'm doing this is because I love "Why does..." myths. Everything from Greek and African mythology to Just So Stories. And I want to see what you bunch can come up with The rules are simple and few: 1) Pick one natural phenomenon, or a series of them, and write a story or poem about why it happens. 2) The natural phenomenon can be anything, from why there are stars in the sky, to where did humans come from, why monarch butterflies are orange and black, why women seem to love chocolate (that's a natural phenomenon, durn it! I can't control my love of chocolate, it's part of the Universal Order!) 3) Originality in the story is HIGHLY encouraged. Don't, for example, just retell that the shadows on the moon is a rabbit making mooncakes. However, taking pre-existing mythology and incorporating it into your story is all right. 4) Post in this thread 5) Any questions? Just ask

A series of twelve small origami buds of varying color, each less than two inches tall, float determinedly past the Playboy Cheerline's feet, making their way into the office. Once inside, they discretely plant themselves around the room before blooming. The inside of each flower is streaked with bright yellow the exact color of a freshly minted geld. A goodly distance away, Ciri tucks a few sheets of delicate square paper back into her large bag, dropping one final bud - yellow with a green tail - then shooing it away. Glancing around to make sure no one saw, she makes her way back to the nice, quiet corner she's found. The much larger geld-yellow bud, however, makes its way inside the office and picks a spot on Wyvern's desk, blooming to reveal the words 'Almost Lucky' written on the petals in white, with two large green leaves displaying the words 'Happy Birthday'. -------- OOC - Happy Birthday from me, too!

Thanks; the level of criticism is fine Like I said, poetry isn't really my thing - although I do enjoy critical analysis of poetry in my classes, writing it is a whole other story. (I'm trying for secondary school english teacher, by the way; yes, I realize I'm insane) Well then, I have a question or two, if you don't mind... Does the juxtaposition of the images seem too random? I intended for a subtle continuity, but my mind tends to hopscotch all over the place, and sometimes I make mental jumps that make perfect sense to me and no one else until I explain it all step-by-step. That, along with cliches, are two things I've already been told I need to work on, but I keep slipping up. I realize that the first sentence refers to clarity of each scene with more sensory detail and description, but the second and third sort of lose me, because I'm not quite sure what you mean by 'images speak louder than thoughts.' Mainly, I have no trouble with the concept of imagery, but what do you mean by "thoughts" and "ideas" in the context of poetry? (I have a vague idea, but tend to overthink things so figured I'd ask) Thanks again for your comments!

I'm a college student and english major, so writing for school takes priority over writing for fun, sadly enough So while I'm not much good at poetry except for the angsty kind, I figure I'd tack this up so y'all know I didn't forget about this place I also suck at thinking of titles, so feel free to suggest a better one! Today I read a book written on the walls of A dusty room filled with broken memories There were toys of a forgotten time And pictures of people like They wish they could have been Today I saw a dream in a line of music Snatched from a window I passed on the street The words were lost, too garbled to understand But a stranger and I Felt our hearts in the melody Today I smelled sweet sadness in a dying rose Sacrificed for love one anniversary A dozen tears and a pink teddy bear Selfishly given on the Saint's death day Today I saw cruelty born in the eyes of a little girl As her mother took her hand and led her away Scolding her for dropping her toy money In the hands of a past person In the New York Subway Today I felt the burden of a desperate man Settle on me as I read the line he wrote HELP SOMEONE TO- was all I read Before the words were covered with paint By the janitor EDIT: I mispelled a word or two *blush*

Heh, yup. Looking back on this story I feel sitting fifteen-year-old me down and lecturing for a few hours on tenses (and a few other items). It's kind of fun going through your old work and seeing how much you have (or haven't) improved. But she isn't *quite* kicked out at the end... When school stops trying to kill me, I'll upgrade this. I promise! Eventually! And thanks for the compliment

Ciri jumped at the sound of a voice - speaking to her, of all people - and turned to look at the Almost Dragon, eyes widening in surprise as she took an instinctive step back. Then she noticed the papers, and the fact that the dragon knew her name, and reddening as she realized just who she was talking to - and just what those papers Wyvern was holding were. She opened her mouth, but before she could respond the bartender arrived with her drink. "Excuse me." she says, flashing the Almost Dragon a nervous smile, then grabbing her drink and taken a large gulp. Rici you two-timing backstabbing self-righteous impossible snarky little HORROR! You are SO dead! You're welcome, came the smug reply. Now, smile prettily and talk to The Great Scaly One over there - he looks like he's getting impatient. And hungry. Clearing her throat, she settles her drink back down at the counter and looks at Wyvern. "Umm...well, if you really think they're all right as an application. But - strings?" She asks curiously, reaching into her pocket and touching the facets of her crystalline sphere, which immediately begins to turn cloudy. Wyvern's grin widens, revealing even more extra-sharp teeth. "Jusssst a few minor thingssss here and there. What, don't you trussst me?" All conversation in the bar stops, and after a moment the room fills with the sound of snickers, giggles, chuckles, and outright laughter. Ciri looks around for a moment, a half-smile tugging at her lips before she shakes her head, then looks back at Wyvern with what might be her first geniune smile. "If I answer that, what're the chances of that application actually going through?" she asks, pushing her glasses back into place. Wyvern somehow manages to shoot everyone in the bar an Almost Draconic Dirty Look, grumbling to himself. Ciri giggles, then takes the crystal sphere out of her pocket, tracing an 's' on one facet before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a few sheets of paper. "I sort of might have something better for you to read, if you really think I should apply..." she says, and hands the almost dragon a slim folder... OOC note - Thanks, Wyvern!. For some reason, this place has left me feeling all creative and stuff for the first time in a while, so I actually DID write a story just for this place. Once I find it, I'll stick it here Shouldn't take more than a few hours >.> (Ciri is extremely, incredibly messy) Also, I'm not used to roleplay-by-post, this probably being the....first time ever I've done it, so I hope you'll forgive me if it's not a brilliant masterpiece of skilled writing x)

Ciri peered curiously into her crystalline sphere with its many facets, then glanced up at the recruitment door, then back at her crystal ball again, chewing her lower lip. I'm going to kill Finnius for tempting me, she said with a sigh, before shrugging and setting down her bulky black bag - which decided to promptly tip over. Books, notebooks, scraps of papers and several hundred quills of various colors spilled onto the ground, eliciting a small 'eek' from their guardian. Ciri immediately got down on her knees and reached for the fallen articles. The small scraps of folded papers she grabbed first, stuffing them into the bag, quickly followed by the notebooks and pens. Then, heart pounding, she picked up the books and set them neatly in a pile on the floor. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was watching, she picked up the first one, running a hand down the spine of the book and checking the corners, fretting and cooing apologies, giving the book a little hug before placing it back into the bag and reaching for the next one. Relieved no major harm had come to any of her darlings, she glanced around once more to make sure there were no scraps of paper lying around that could possibly be linked back to her. Finding none, she settled down near the bag and leaned against the wall, adjusting her large cloak - it had to be large, to match her - to cover her more completely before resting her head on the bag of books and taking a deep breath before expelling it as one of those melodramatic, 'Woe is me' sighs. Oh, come ON. Stop doing that! Ciri closed her eyes, but the exasperated voice continued. Just write something and submit it already! It's not like anybody will kill you over it or anything. Ciri opened her eyes and turned her head, looking at the figure who spoke. An overly plump, young hispanic woman, with square, wire-rim glasses, wearing a pair of comfortable trousers and a crisp white shirt under a large cloak, with curly (if you were being polite, otherwise, frizzy) hair reached down to her shoulders. The woman looked back at her crossly. But...it's a writing forum! Ciri replied, knowing very well that she sounded like a whiny teenager. Of course they'll read it! Who knows HOW many people will read it? And what if they start...you know...SAYING stuff about it? Or worse - what if they DON'T? I mean, there could be like...people with actual writing skills reading my stuff. You know how I feel about that! She said, crossing her arms over her chest. The other woman smacked her forehead. Get a grip! It's not like you're the Center of the Universe or anything. Seriously. I doubt anyone's going to be hanging onto your every word. A small, fuzzy, tentacled....something seemed to fall from the woman's ear. Ciri reached over quickly and tapped it with her crystal ball, causing it to disappear and a smaller, more detailed version of it to form inside the crystal. Me either Ciri admitted, tracing a small 's', then a 'p' over the crystal ball's surface. It hummed for a moment, warming, then a slip of paper formed in Ciri's hands, which she stuck inside her bag before grinning. "But do I have to remind you of that time I WAS the center of the universe? It's not like I officially retired, either." "You were replaced by pickles, for the love of Ink! If that isn't reason enough to retire, I don't know what is. By the way. One of these days, someone's going to catch us talking to yourself out loud. Remember, INSIDE voice. As in, we should stop vocalizing." "Oh, right. Sor..." Oops. I mean, sorry, Rici Yeah, yeah. Just remember that we're still alive up here, okay? Honestly, you should THINK before you decide to anthromorphosize aspects of your personality or think of your characters as actual people. Really now, that's just psychotic. Ciri giggled, then stuck her tongue out at her reflection. Nah, s'all right. Everyone talks to themselves. How many of them talk to themselves, gesturing emphatically while writing weird stories about talking to themselves which aren't really stories, more like just random dialogue? Shut up, you're disturbing the whole fifth wall. I'm you, and you're the one always claiming you're always right, so obviously I must be right when I say that you're disturbing the fifth wall because I'm you, so you are also right when saying I am. So there. Gods above and below. My brain hurts. I'm not talking to you anymore. Whatever. I'm going to go hang out with the characters from that intergalactic spy story you started. One of these days, you have to finish that one. And the one about the Palace of Dawn and Dusk. And the one about the Dr'Kemeh. And the one about the Wraves. And the one about the Singer of the Mists. And all those character backgrounds for those roleplay characters you keep saying you'll do. In fact, I'm just praying you'll finish SOMETHING you've started. Like...I don't know, that recruitment story? That dragon thingy might show up any minute and want to know what we're doing outside the door. Eh, the bulletin posted up said that 'the dragon thingy' sometimes takes forever to check his office. But I guess you're right. Ciri said, clambering to her feet. She grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder, then stuck the crystal into her pocket. I don't think I'll apply, though. I mean, I'm sure everyone's busy and all that, and reading my stuff would just be a pain, I'm sure. Besides, I'll probably be all shy and not be able to think of anything to write. You know how I get. Ciri flashed her reflection a wan smile. Yeah, I know. C'mon, we've got that five-scroll assignment to write for class today. No time to feel sorry for yourself! "But I do it so well!" Ciri said coyly, fluttering her eyelashes at her reflection, then giggled. Adjusting her bag, she glanced once more at the door to the recruitment office, then shook her head with a depreciating little smile and began walking away with hurried steps, head down, trying not to attract too much attention to herself. She was so busy trying not to be noticed, in fact, she didn't notice the hum of her crystal ball, or the short trail of papers left in front of the recruitment hall. Or the few sheets of paper that fell out of her bag as she picked it up. In fact, she didn't even notice the smug little grin that seemed to tug at her lips in every reflective surface she passed. ---------------------------------------------- OOC - Not actually much of a story, I know. Perhaps I'll mention what was written on the scraps of paper another day. Right now, me and several voices need to go do a five-page paper.

Umm. Heya folks. I'm Ciri, and Finnius convinced me to post something here. So direct all rotten tomatoes at Finnius, it's all his fault Anyway, for my first trick, this is an OLD story, which I wrote as background for my very first roleplay character ever, at the age of fourteen(ish). I recently found it (approximately thirty-six minutes ago), and figured I might as well use it as my first starter post. It's untouched from its original writing. I'll probably try re-writing it and posting a shinier version...maybe. Here you go! ---------------------------------------- Most of the time, change happens so slowly, you don't really notice until long after the change becomes normal. And when you do notice, you wonder how you could have dismissed the earlier signs that things were changing. Then you start wishing for things to be like they once were while around you everything remains in a continuous cycle of change. And when you stop and notice the new changes, you begin to wish for the changes of old, wondering at how you missed what was happening all around you once again. My name was Tavik, son of Rigaan and Drema, a fisherman and a seamstress. When I was seven, my little sister was born. All the newborns I had seen in the village had been dark-skinned or a pinkish color, but she was paler than ivory. Mama was so worried about this that she took her to the healers. They told Mama that my little sister was fine, but her skin would never darken. Another strange thing was that her eyes were a beautiful deep, clear red, a color not common in these areas. When her hair began to grow, it was a shade of white that was as light and pure as spun silver, also uncommon in the region in which we lived. But Mama and Dada said she was beautiful, like a ray of moonlight, and I thought so to. Besides her unusual appearance, she was a normal baby. Mama decided to name her Aelu, or 'little raven,' in our native tongue. Mama and Dada had always wanted a little girl, so they couldn't be happier. As for me, she was my little sister, and I promised I would always be there for her, to protect and take care of her for as long as I could. So you see, we all loved her dearly. The villagers, on the other hand, had never seen anything like Aelu before, and most didn't want her around. As the years passed, vicious rumors began spreading that Mama had been unfaithful to Dada, because the three of us had dark hair and blue-green eyes with the slightly browned skin native to the area, while Aelu was paler than anyone we'd ever seen. Mama and Dada soon dismissed this rumor, since besides her unusual coloring, little Aelu was a smaller, feminine version of me. Unfortunately, this didn't stop the villagers. They just became meaner and more hateful towards Aelu. They said and did a number of cruel things, but there is one incident that stands out best in my mind. Perhaps this is because when I look back, this was the first sign of the change. It was Aelu's seventh birthday, and Mama and Dada gave us each a gold coin to buy whatever we wanted. We wandered around the town's shops, laughing and joking as we looked into the windows and wondered what to buy. I spent most of my half on a large bag of small, clear marbles and sugar candies I shared with Aelu, whom I had never seen more happy. She was absolutely glowing, even though the villagers threw us dirty looks as we passed. When we reached the toy store, Aelu went in alone. When she came out, she gave me a slingshot, one of the best I've ever seen. I was shocked. I told her I couldn't take it, that her money was meant for her, but she just stood there, thumb in mouth, refusing to trade it for anything else. My heart was touched at her generosity, and the love for my little Aelu increased a thousand times. I smiled and gave her a piggyback ride through the streets, as oblivious to the hateful stares as Aelu was. As we were walking, I noticed that a friend of mine, Caner, was following us. This was strange, but I was so wrapped up in Aelu that I didn't really think much of it. Finally, he called to me, saying he wanted to talk privately. I left Aelu on a bench, making her promise not to move. Caner beckoned me into a small alley. I looked back once, only once, and saw my Aelu on the bench eating her candy and staring right back at me. Once we were in the alley, Caner began asking me strange questions, like what I thought of the weather and how Dada's fishing was doing. I should have figured it out right there and then, but Caner was one of my best friends, and I trusted him. I answered all his questions quickly, then turned and exited the alley. But when I walked back to the bench, Aelu was no longer there. I looked everywhere, becoming more and more frantic with each minute that passed. Finally, I remembered how odd Caner had been acting and became more and more suspicious. I began to follow him, and he led me into the forest. We walked for a few moments, then reached a clearing. What I saw next is an image eternally burned into my mind, one that never fails to unleash my fury. There, tied up and tethered to a tree, was my little Aelu, crying and screaming as a large group of people, her peers and my peers, along with a few older than me, threw rocks and stones at her, and kicked her when she fell limp. A deep hatred, unlike anything I have ever felt, entered my heart at this sight. I grabbed the slingshot, a symbol of Aelu's kindness, and rose from my hiding place. I reached into my bag and held the smooth, hard marbles. I pulled my hand back and with the skill of hours of practice, began flinging my marbles towards them. They began screaming and scattering as the tools of my vengeance hit them, more often than not breaking there skin. They ran, but I didn't stop until all my marbles had been used, then I ran towards Aelu. From a distance, I could not observe the severity of there beating. As I knelt beside her I could see every wound. Her beautiful white skin was covered with dark, deep bruises, marred by large slashes that dripped blood down to the ground. So severe was their beating, I was shocked they hadn't killed her. Gently I gathered her frail limbs into my arms and carried her home. When I explained what had happened, Dada was furious and Mama was horrified. It took Aelu weeks to recover, and even after she healed she wasn't quite the same. She became quieter, and her beautiful eyes, which used to remind me of the sky at sunset, no longer held their former sparkle. She was still Aelu, but something had changed. She knew too much of human nature now. Aelu began spending the free time not devoted to me, Mama and Dada thinking. Just thinking. She would sit, sometimes for hours, her eyes barely moving to blink, staring at the ocean or raindrops or a bowl of water. I remember looking at her as she slipped into this private world of hers, for it was then that she seemed weakest, her thin arms wrapped around her long skinny legs, sharp chin at her knees. She looked like a delicate glass doll, one that could break with the slightest touch. But there was an air of unseen power to her at these times, a sort of inner strength. She seemed so calm, so unstoppable at these moments that I began encouraging her to slip into that world more and more. As for the people of the village, they did not change towards Aelu. We, however, changed towards them. Mama's beautiful voice was absent from the choir, as was her delicious foods from the stands on Main Street. Dada no longer let the other fisherman use his boat or nets, or help the villagers with the odd jobs that he used to gladly do out of charity. I cornered the people who had inflicted the beating and told them if they EVER so much as plucked a single one of her beautiful hairs, I would beat them so badly they would never walk again. I am one of the best fighters in school, so that was the last time they gave us any type of trouble. As for my former friend Caner, I didn't wait for him to hurt Aelu a second time. I spared his life, but only so he could serve as a warning. Not even the best Healers in the village, nor in the nearby ones, could spare him from a future as a scarred cripple. The villagers began to hate us all after that, but they were afraid of Dada. Dada is a huge man, over six and a half feet tall with broad, powerful shoulders, and thick, equally powerful arms. None of his 320 lb. was fat. Besides, if they threw us out, they would have to pay double to import cloth, since my mother was the only weaver in town. So we and the villagers were at a standstill. Years past, but my little Aelu didn't grow much bigger. She was very petite, but her mind and spirit grew stronger. However, she grew quieter through the years, and tended to avoid people. It wasn't out of fear or shyness, I could tell. She just didn't seem to like people, and after how the villagers treated her, who could blame her? As a family, we remained close, closer than any other. That is, until the sickness came. I was 20, and Aelu was 12, almost 13. She had suffered from a small fever, the penalty from eating some strange berries. The next day she was all better. However, Mama and I were sick. Soon, Dada was sick as well. Aelu, young as she was, did her best to help us and do all the chores. She cooked, cleaned, sewed, and tended to the animals and gardens. On the third day of the sickness, for the first time since that terrible day 5 years ago, she went to the village alone to fetch a healer. When she returned accompanied by the healer, Mama and Dada were already delusional, and I was very close. The healer examined us, then told Aelu gently that the best they could do was make Mama and Dada comfortable. As for me, I had only the tiniest sliver of a chance at survival. He gave Aelu three vials and left. Mama was the first to leave us. She had been speaking nonsense for hours, but right before her death, she seemed to have regained a grasp of reality. With her last few breaths, she said 'I love you' to me and Aelu, and said she couldn't have been more blessed in life. Turning to Aelu, she told her never to doubt herself or listen to the hateful words of others. To me she left the responsibility of guiding and protecting myself and Aelu. As for Dada, she simply looked at him and smiled, then died. Dada soon followed. In my fevered state I knew Mama and Dada were dead, that Aelu was crying and I was dying. I couldn't stand it. At this point I cared little about my own life but cared all the world for Aelu's. I knew once I was gone there would be no one left for her. I remember telling her that, telling her how much I cared for her, how much Mama and Dada had. I told her how happy I was when she was born and how proud I was of her now. I told her never to forget that. I told her she was different and strange and wonderful, and that was why the villagers hated her. I made her promise never to become like the villagers, judging people by appearances. I said so many things that night in my delusional state; things I knew and felt and thought, but had never before spoken. But what I said before death was a message; a warning: "Don't let hatred into your heart little Aelu, nor jealousy, anger, and sadness. These are the evil fires that burn away at your soul. Never let them in, or they will turn you into their slave. Don't ever forget us, me, Mama and Dada, or what we've taught you. I love you, my little raven, my beautiful Aelu. Never forget that. Never forget us." At this time, the thin wire of life I had clung to snapped, and I was taken from Aelu and caught in death's inescapable embrace. Most of the time, change happens so slowly, you don't really notice until long after the change becomes normal. When you do notice, you wonder how you could have dismissed the earlier signs that things were changing. Then you start wishing for things to be like they were in the past while all around you things continue to change. And when you stop and notice the new changes, you once more wish for the changes of old, wondering at how you missed what was happening all around you once again. But sometimes the change happens in a heartbeat, and from the moment it happens you notice it. And know things will never be the same. Ever since that day so many years ago, when Aelu realized the full extent of the villager's hatred, she had begun to change, slowly, in little ways. But once we died, the changes that had been slowly tranforming her erupted in full force. She never laughed, never smiled. Her beautiful sunset-sky eyes became clouded, forsaking the last shred of merriment left in them. All the warmth in her heart and the happiness she felt was gone. Yet she wasn't sad. You see, she did remember my words, and never let hatred, jealousy, fear, or sadness into her heart. But without these emotions, you cannot feel love, appreciation, bravery, happiness. So now she feels nothing at all. Dance little raven Dance Aelu Dance across the night sky Dance my little raven Dance my little Aelu Sing little raven Sing Aelu Sing the innocent's song Sing my little raven Sing my little Aelu Fly little raven Fly Aelu Fly far from this wretched place Fly my little raven Fly my little Aelu Never little raven Never Aelu Never let the fires enslave Never my little raven Never my little Aelu Forgive me, little raven Forgive me Aelu Forgive me for I left you all alone Forgive me, my little raven Forgive me my little Aelu Erase little raven Erase Aelu Erase the bad from your heart Erase my little raven Erase my Aelu -------------------------------- There you go, straight from 2003/4 to your eyes! I never actually wrote the second part of the story...might do that as well, later on.