dragonqueen

Always a tough question. 1. My bass. I've put so much into it and it's been my faithful companion through the years. 2. My varsity jacket- warm, and the pockets are filled with all my daily stuff - cell phone, money, ipod, chapstick, etc. 3. Maybe my computer? Lots of important files, but it'd be hard to lug around. Alternatively, any artwork, books or writing lying around, but it's all rather scattered. In the end, it'd probably be my writing, since it's all in one binder.

Charmaine slipped into the party a bit late. She preferred it that way; an unnoticed entrance. Moving off through the crowd, she scanned the room and found very little in the way of familiar faces. Minutes later, Charmaine was ensconced in a spot against the wall, leaning back and coolly sipping a drink. A small inner voice protested that she ought to be circulating, making contacts, trying to save her band, but she silenced it, thinking Later. I'll do it later, I promise. After I get my courage up...

Mkay, character here. Charmaine Meeks is a young bassist, just out of highschool, in a small-town band trying to make it big. Recently they've had some limited success at local venues. Heady with the taste of fame, the bandmembers have started to bicker amongst each other and consequently their music has suffered. Charmaine's had enough of the drama, and is thinking of leaving her current band, which seems likely to split soon anyway, but for what she doesn't know. Her secret love is marimba, and she has wild dreams of playing marimba in a rock band, but she knows this will likely never happen. For now she muses over this dilemma inwardly and struggles to hold the seams of her band together and patch up their music. Generally, Charmaine is quiet and introverted. She has serious doubts as to her musical ability, but forges ahead. She is tall and thin, with reddish hair falling just past her shoulders.

I'd love to be in on this, though, as always, I am lacking in free time. Still, I'll give it a shot. Will meditate on a character tonight and try to post tomorrow...

Have you ever smiled at a crocodile?

We can take it all and turn it all around. We can show them we're not afraid. We're more than they think we are. We're everything we never thought we were. We can stand up for ourselves. We can fight for a life worth living. We're the strong, the brave, the proud. We're what's left of everything that was. We can stand united, fighting for truth and justice, Or, We can fall, divided, wrecked remnants of something once great, degenrated into something now contempous and degrading, conquered by the bright and glorious future. We can. A world of possibilites, An ocean of choices. Place your hand in mine, And choose with me. "A leopard-spotted chicken with tiger-striped wings"

magician

Have you ever had to remind yourself that your daydreams are simply that - just fantasies? Have you ever been scared that one day you'll forget, and something will slip out, your fantasies crossing over into reality, and everyone will think you're crazy? Have you ever found the meaning of life?(if yes, let me know, I'm still pondering.) Have you ever wished so hard that it was all real - dragons, unicorns, magic, ftl travel, etc.? Have you ever had to just turn your brain off, 'cause if you think anymore you'll go insane?

A conflagration of awareness A fire starting in my brain Ravaging my thoughts Igniting sudden comprehension. The fog before my eyes Is burned away. And in the clearing smoke, I see what I could not see before. My doubt dwindles to cinders, And faith leaps from the ashes. "Music softly blaring all around"

Fat grey elephant Gorged on moldy cheese and fruit, Snoozing in my fridge.

knight

books

Strolling through the Conservatory after a long absence, Dragonqueen absorbed all the changes that had been made since her last visit. The most puzzling one was that the Conservatory appeared to have vanished, replaced by some sort of prairie. However, she had little time to study this phenomenon, as a stray sheep came flying through the air and bowled her over. "What the --" Dragonqueen came up sputtering through a mouth of wispy sheep...feathers? Examining the missile more closley, Dragonqueen realized that it was no sheep at all, but a pillow in the guise of a sheep. "Figures. Real sheep would have been far too unsanitary. I never liked the smell of sheep." The amount of sheep soaring through the sky thickened, and Dragonqueen saw she would have to take the offensive, or buried under a mountain of sheep. Wait a minute... Soon, there was a suspciously large pile of sheep amassed, which appeared to be secured through the use of bungy cords to some central point. The small, fluffy white mountain sidled forward, stopping a few feet behind an unsuspecting passerby. One of the sheep near the bottom detached itself, revealing a decidedly human foot as it arced through the air. Quickly Dragonqueen inched away. A little way off she spotted an inviting pile of sheep, failing to notice that it was moving and roiling as if there might be a humanoid form under it... Soon, the sheep disguise picked up speed, resembling nothing so much as a small cloud hurtling along the horizon. It took off, leaping into the air and landing *WHOOMPH* on the inviting sheep pileup, and squashing a hidden CheerMynx. "Whoops...didn't see you there..."

finding

vampire

Another day, another lie. Candied words spilling from my lips to Paste over a crack in my perfect world. They come almost naturally now, And I've never been caught, So they always believe. Do I feel guilt? Sure. But it's so much easier to lie, And besides, everyone does it, And after all, I'm disgustingly honest about some things, So what's a little lie here and there? My world is held together with lies, Layers and layers of lies over lies. If you peeled all the lies away, There'd be little left. My fragile bubble would shatter. Is my life just one big lie? Maybe. I myself am not a lie. Or am I? Maybe I misrepresent myself. But in that case, when one lies and pretends long enough, One becomes what one pretends to be. Lies are still lies. I live in a cocoon of lies. I have spun my web of lies around me, Convoluted, twisted, Protecting, hiding the truth. I cower behind a paper-thin wall of lies. So many metaphors, so many analogies. What lie do I tell today?

...Transylvania, where they found themselves penniless and surrounded by hordes of vampiric rabbits. The penguins spun around in horror, searching for some escape, but alas, they were surrounded. The rabbits began to close in, chanting "Ve vant to suck your blood, Ve vant to suck your blood..." The penguins feared all hope was lost, until...

In general I try to stay off the subject of HP because I'm not really sure what I think of it, and because I tend to rant. However, I saw your post, Yui, and I felt compelled to reply. I have often wondered the same thing. What is it, exactly, that cause HP books to fly of the shelves, and makes J.K.Rowling so rich? One thing I find ironic is that the books are hundreds of pages long, yet they're written for a younger audience, though of course, teens are completely capable of reading 600 page books. I guess maybe I thought the target audience was younger than that. Still, everyone seems to love them. I believe I've only met one person who hated HP. Anyways, I find the HP phenomenon strange and inexplicable, and it's nice to know I'm not completely alone. Also, I was glad to read this book is free of Harry rants. I haven't read it yet; I'm waiting for my sister to finish our copy. So, that's my two cents. I might post again after I've read the book. -DQ

That was quick. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. Incidentally, Irene wouldn't be a 'Mrs.' Anyways, have fun, and I'll be following the game with interest.

When she heard the scream Irene came running out of Mr. Braggins' suite. People had already formed a crowd around the scene. Irene pushed her way through the crowd, but stopped at the edge. For a few seconds she simply stared at the crime scene. Then she turned and pushed her way back through the onlookers. Emerging from the crowd, Irene hurried down the corridor again and dissapeared into Mr. Braggins' still open door. "What're they making all that noise about?" The old man's voice, cranky and annoyed, floated out of the room. "Mr. Braggins, Lenny's dead!" "Dead?" "Yeah! His wife screamed, 'cause--" The girl began to explain, but was interrupted by Mr. Braggins. "Lots of folk are dead." "Yes, but Lenny was murdered!" As she recounted the events, Irene's eyes shined with morbid excitement. It's not that she wanted Lenny dead, but finally, finally something had happened in this dusty old vault. "Murdered? How do they know?" "On the ceiling, in Lenny's own blood the killer wrote 'Open the door'!" "'Open the door'? What kind of thing is that to write on a ceiling? How're we supposed to know what door they're talking about?" "Mr. Braggins!" Irene said, in shocked exasperation. "The Door! The Door to Outside!" For once Mr. Braggins was silent. "What do you think, Mr. Braggins? Do you think they'll listen? Do you think they'll open the Door? Maybe if you talk to them Mr. Braggins, you're important!" Irene's words tumbled out excitedly, as she talked about the possibilities. Suddenly, she stopped, in mid sentence. "Mr. Braggins, who do you think it was? Whoever it was is really desperate to get out. Desperate enough to kill Lenny..."

"I'm telling you anyway. I'm Irene and I'm old enough to smoke!" With these words, Irene ran down the corridor. She clutched the smuggled roses to her chest, trying to conceal them without squashing the delicate flowers. Not until she was safely behind the locked door of her room did Irene stop. Setting down the flowers, she held her hands out in front of her and examined the splayed fingers. They didn't look discolored or anything to her. How had that woman known? Irene made a mental note to get herself one of those cigarette holders the woman had mentioned. A few minutes later, roses safely locked away, Irene slipped into the hallway. She started off at a slower pace this time, and made her way towards Mr. Braggins' rooms. Outside his door, she knocks softly and says "It's Irene, Mr. Braggins. Can I come in?" The girl hears answering words and lets herself into the room.

Irene Taylor is 15 years old and bored to tears with life in the vault. When she was younger Irene was a wild child, always going on 'adventures' and getting into trouble. Over the years, she has explored every nook and cranny of the vault. Irene's well known to everyone, as they've all spotted her restlessly roaming around the vault at some point. In an attempt to stave off utter boredom, Irene has taken to doing odd jobs for the residents and personnel of the vault.

I quite liked this poem. It actually reminded me of something I wrote a bit ago, but this has more art to it. Personally, "how it's begun" doesn't bother me, but in the interest of grammar and such, one might change it. My only critique on this poem would be where, in each stanza, the line beginning with "Forgotten..." has no ending punctuation mark. Maybe you did that purposely; I don't know. My thought was that without punctuation it seems to be connected to the next line "Into...", while, at least in my head, that line actually makes more sense when it is connected to the line after that. Well, that was a bit convuluted, but naturally the choice is yours. Quite a good poem. I'm mildly brain-dead right now, so I'm not putting words together very well, but it's a lovely poem. Something I'd like to have on my wall, I think.

Well, this is a pretty common picture around high school. I wish school didn't follow me home, but unfortunately it does, though I slack off more often than I'd like to admit. Anyways, nice poem. Like the rhythym and very clear communication-wise. You painted a picture for me with this poem. Oh, and I love the last line.

We went to the midnight showing last night, and Episode III was pretty cool. It did seem a little cheesy and/or overly dramatic in some places, but that didn't bother me. I think it sort of worked for the movie. I was dissapointed in Natalie Portman, but her role kind of wasn't very good. That one scene was disturbing. Overall, a very good movie, and I'm dissapointed there aren't any more.