Oh God my Eyes 9/21/2009

I wrote this as a distraction for my roommate when she needed to be doing homework and was depressed over the amount she had. It was our two horrible OCs we made to troll an RP someone we both hated had made on a forum. I actually really like this in that it makes me laugh even now. It's purposefully horrible. I'd actually love to finish this as a parody or just a complete nonsense story.

~

Alyssa stepped out on the deck of her ship. She glanced upward at the beautiful sky. It was a pleasant day and not a bird in sight. There were clouds, but no birds. Unbeknown to her, the birds were actually in the clouds. She just couldn’t see them.

“Full speed ahead,” she commanded. She walked towards the railing of the ship, peg-leg clunking with every other step. It was quite a serene noise with the waves as background; music to her silver hoop earring bearing ears. “It’s a good day for sailing,” she commented idly as she breathed in deeply the sweet and sour sea air with a pinch of salt. Or was it a dash? She never was good with cooking.

“Why is this ship not moving?” She asked the crew. She heard something that clunked with every step, which quite threw off the rhythm of her every other clunk. Wait. There was an odd third clunk. What could make three clunks, she wondered. Was it three hopping pirates? Could it be a three legged dog? She didn’t like dogs. Or was it a parrot? Parrots could mimic noises and it was possible a parrot was mimicking her. Except, now that she thought about it, the clunks sounded much older. That, and parrots had gone extinct hundreds of years ago. Why was she thinking parrots?

“Alyssa, get down here and stop playing pirate captain.” She heard a voice clouded with old shouting at her.

“God damn it mom, you can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my…damn it.” Alyssa turned to see a very old woman full of anger and rage the likes of which this world has never known glaring up at her.

“Don’t you talk to me that way, god damn it.” The old lady glared, shifting from peg leg to peg leg to cane, which, essentially, was also a peg leg. In fact, she referred to it as her third leg. She never understood why others laughed when she said this, but she didn’t care.

“Clementyne, isn’t it time for your prunes or juice or whatever old people do in the bathroom.” Alyssa glanced down at the crotchety old woman.

“It’s prunes and what I do in there is none of your business.” Clementyne rapped her third leg on the deck of the ship. “Anyways, it’s time to stop pretending you are a captain and step up to the plate and become one.”

“Mom, what does your fine china have to do with me becoming a captain?” Alyssa asked. “Besdies, you sold your china years ago.”

“Then why are you bringing it up?” Clementyne growled, eying a nearby bug on the ground hungrily. “Mmm, reminds me of my army days.” Clementyne got lost in thought for a second, found herself, got lost again, and then snapped out of it. She got lost a third time, bought a map, discovered the map was actually for Italy, pondered for a moment what Italy was, and then found the exit. “Anyways,” Celemntyne continued as if nothing had happened, “I found us a crew.” Clementyne punched an old, veined fist into the air.

“Birds!” Alyssa shouted, spotting one peeking out from behind a cloud. Alyssa reached into a pocket on her long, red coat and pulled out her pocket cannon. She tossed her pegged leg aside and attached the pocket cannon to her waiting stump for optimal shooting stability. “Die bird!” She shouted, aiming at the bird and firing away. She missed twice and on the third try, she hit her mark. The bird then plummeted into the ocean.

“God damn it,” Clementyne and Alyssa shouted in unison.

“Now what’re we supposed to eat for dinner?” Clementyne glared at Alyssa. “Not only did my bug get away, but I’m out of bathroom prunes.”

“What were you saying about a crew?” Alyssa asked, putting her pocket cannon away nonchalantly. She then reattached her peg leg and clunk-stepped over her mom.

“Quit that,” she yelled at her tall, well endowed daughter. “Anyways, yes, the crew. I have one.” Alyssa clapped animatedly. “We can’t eat them, but maybe they have some food.” And so, the two set off to find the crew Clementyne had found and ask them for food.

Final Fantasy XII drabble 8/26/2009

I wrote this a long time ago when I first started playing Final Fantasy XII. I honestly never got far because I lost interest. I want to revisit it someday, but I did love the characters. Mostly Balthier, Fran, Ashe, and Basche. Their personalities were fun and so I wrote this little thing.

~

The land around them was differant from any they had seen before. The ground had almost a purple hue to it and was covered with a thick moss. They were standing on a dock of sorts that seemed rather peculiarily placed in a land with no water. The change of scenary had been abrupt from the forest that they'd just wandered out of and this dock had connected to their path. There were a few trees and little blue flowers dotted the landscape, but other than that, the eerie moss was the only plant life. Looking out further, stones had been placed evenly apart and zig-zagged through the land. The stones started where the dock ended. "What is this place?" Vaan asked, looking to Balthier, who usually knew this sort of thing.

"How should I know? I told you that I never bothered to come to these cursed grounds before because there's no profit from it. You’d do best asking Fran." Balthier said, motioning with his head to the tall woman beside him while fiddling with his shirt cuffs.

"These are cursed grounds. They are very dangerous, but not impassible if you're smart." Vaan must have been imagaining that she was looking at him when she said this.

"Cursed grounds?" Vaan made to step out onto the moss when a strong arm stopped him. Vaan looked up to see that Basche was tugging him back.

"Cursed as in 'don't touch' I would assume?" Balthier looked to Fran; however, it was Ashe who answered.

"These lands are cursed because of the wars of long ago and, I suppose, of today. The legend goes that some deity cursed them so that no human foot can tread on them until peace is restored." Ashe looked at the moss and turned to the stones. "Our ancestors placed these stones here for safe passage to the city when traveling on foot."

"So we just stone hop to Alkaterz?" Balthier asked, stepping cautiously to the first stone.

"That would be the idea," Ashe answered, following him.

"This is kind of silly," Penelo commented as she stepped on the first stone. She made to step to the second, but lost her balance. She stepped down to steady herself, but had stepped on the moss. Everyone took an audible deep breath, but after a few seconds, nothing had happened. Penelo moved her other foot to the moss and walked in a small circle. "Nothing." She looked up to the group.

"How can you walk on the moss?" Vaan asked, watching as his friend pranced about.

"Maybe I'm not human," she giggled.

"It seems the fairy tale was a fools story." Fran looked over at Penelo as Vaan stepped onto the moss with her.

"Don't they all turn out that way?" Balthier commented.

"I wonder why they have such a tale about this place?" Ashe wondered, a finger to her chin.

"Obviously they want to keep us out. So in we go, then?" Balthier looked up at her.

"It would seem so," Ashe laughed. And so the party journeyed fourth through the cursed lands of Colunah.

Balloon Man Story I want to write one day 6/11/09

I want to write this story one day...

ooo

Every year in this city, they hold a hot air balloon festival in the park where hot air balloons are flown and lots of merriment is had. Every year the balloon man wants to do the festival patrol but is stuck patrolling the park path leading to the festival. He can't see anything because of the trees hanging over and obscurring his view. He patrols back and forth, handing out balloons to people who run to the festival. As the festival begins, no one else passes through, but still he dutifully walks back and forth. That night when it's over, he parks his cart into the shed and walks home sadly. He makes a promise to himself that he will be the best balloon man he can be so they have to give him the festival patrol the coming year.

As he goes home, he notices a new neighbor in the room next to his 15th story apartment. It's a young woman who is suffering from cancer. The cancer is currently in remission and she wanted to move out and get some fresh air until it came back since this time could be fatal. Her best friend is a nurse and has agreed to live with her in case she needs anything. She has a bed in the living room by the window so she can see out into the skies above the city and dream she is flying through the stars. The balloon man inroduces himself and makes idle chat before going back to his room.

The year goes on and through it, he becomes very close to the young woman. Through the year, despite his promise to be the best balloonman, he falls back into his old habits; giving away a balloon to a girl who can't afford one, replacing the balloon of a child who popped his, accidently releasing a handful of balloons to help a child in need, etc. Because of this, come festival time, he's back to pacing the path outside once more.

He sadly does his duty and then come night fall and the festivel's end, he packs up his cart and turns to leave, hearing his fellow balloon men making fun of him as they leave. He sighs and sees that one of the hot air balloonists hadn't taken down their balloon yet. Without thinking further, the balloon man gets into the balloon and flies away. He navigates the balloon to the 15th story window of the young woman's apartment only to find her crying. Her cancer is returning with a vegence. He asks her to join him this night, to fly, to forget all their worries, and so she does. He helps her into the basket from her window and the two fly off into the night, holding hands.

He brings her back and returns the balloon to the park. The manager is furious at his recklessness, but instead of reportig him, he fires him. The balloon man sighs sadly and leaves. He had always wanted to be a balloon man, but it was worth it. He lived out his dream and the dream of his young lady friend. A few weeks later, she sadly passes away. Even though he's sad, he reads a note she left him thanking him for helping her live out her biggest dream before it was her time. He can't help but smile at the memories.

Eventually he moves out of the city and to the countryside where he gets a job piloting balloons for less fortunate kids. Bringing smiles to their faces warms his heart and so he lives happily ever after making the lives of others happy as well.

Abandoned story idea 4/20/09

Old story idea from long ago. It's interesting to see what stories I had thought of back then. Nothing will come of this, but it's still interesting to look back upon.

ooo

He glared down at the girl who was cowering in the corner. He was drunk, but he was always good abou keeping his footing and control when he was. Or so he thought. Her long, black hair was greasy, almost covering her entire face as she looked up at him. It wasn't in fear, but rather, in disappointment. This made him angry. He spat at her. "What are you looking at? I ain't prayin' to no one."

"I know," she used the wall to help pull herself up.

"What do you mean you know?" The man took the bottle that he had been taking swigs from and threw it into the dumpster beside them. He made a move towards her, but she was faster. She picked up a knife that had been on laying on the ground--probably dropped by a careless cook from the restaurant they were behind--and stabbed the hand that had been reaching out to her.

The man looked at his hand and then back at her in shock. She looked just as surprised as he did. Then she smiled. She took the knife and stabbed his stomach. She pushed him down and sliced down along his belly like she was undoing the seam from a teddy bear. She grinned down at him in satisfaction.

"Are--going--kill me?" the man choked out.

"No." She turned away from him. "I'm going to let you die."

She began walking away and then stopped as if she had a thought. "Help--" the man choked out, but it was so weak that no one would ever be able to hear him in time.

"Actually, I'm not going to let you die." She grabbed his throat and her hand began to glow.

"You--ange--" he choked.

"You will live because I want you to see what will become because of your actions." She dropped the knife beside him and disappeared.

ooo

In my town, everyone lives peaceful lives for the most part. Children go to school, moms wear lace aprons and cook the perfect Sunday roast, dads go to work, and angels help others. Our town is special, you could say, because we are one of the only ones that have been blessed with angels. They walk among us and look no different from us.

Unlike us; however, Angels can use magic and are, well obviously, holy. If you ever find yourself in need or need a helping hand, generally an angel will find you and be more than happy to assist you. All they ask in return is prayer. I suppose in this way, they control us. After all, do we not worship the angels we see and disguise it as worship for god who we cannot?

One of the worst sins is to make an angel commit violence. Once an angel sins in that way, they can no longer be connected to god and they become fallen angels; demons. There has only been one recorded case of this happening. Or rather not recorded because anyone who could have known or recorded was murdered. Everyone except me. That was nearly 640 years ago.

I was the sin's source and so sin covers me as does the curse of the angel. Or rather not angel, but demon. I have lived since then just as she promised. I cannot die. My friends think I age gracefully until they realize as they grow grey and wrinkled, I remain the same. Not a grey hair ever grows and not a wrinkle ever forms. My friends think me to be some monster or demon or worst of all angel because of this. They die soon anyways and so I don't even bother to explain anymore.

I never understood those who made their pursuit eternal life. What is the point of living forever? I understand some of those people may be the tyranical type and want to lead with an iron fist, but time goes on, technology grows, and soon they will be dethroned and in the years, become no more than a myth or a chapter in a history book. What then? You can't die and you don't want to live. Welcome to my limbo. I would give anything to die. I don't even remember what my sin was in the first place.

All I know is that I could really go for a drink right now.

Brock/James story from 3/7/09

Writing slash is embarrassing, but it's all practice for much better things.

ooo

"Oooh, my aching feet," James groaned as he sat down on one of the comfy coaches in the hotel's lounge. He threw aside his apron and wig, running a hand through his blue hair. As much as he liked to crossdress, doing so to make a living took all the joy out of it. "I could go for a soda," he sighed. As much as he would've liked to, he knew they couldn't afford it. Everytime the trio made money, Jesse always spent it. He was tired of doing demeaning labor so she could have a shopping spree for accessories. Sure, they all would help her accomplish her dream of becoming a top coordinator, but what about his dreams?

Suddenly he heard the door of the lounge creak open. Fearing it was his manager, he quickly grabbed his wig and hastily fixed it into place. He was about to try and throw his apron on when he saw that the tan man wasn't his manager coming to yell angrily at him, but Brock. "Hey there!" Brock smiled when he saw James--or rather Jane.

"Thank goodness it's only you. I thought my manager was coming in to have my head for taking a break," James relaxed, tossing his apron back on the couch.

"He's really hard on you, isn't he?" Brock asked, sitting down on the couch across from James'.

"He's the worst and I've worked for some pretty tough bosses." Giovanni, of course, sprang instantly to his mind. Brock nodded and picked up a breeding magazine from the pile on the coffee table between the couches. James watched him curiously as he flipped through the pages. Brock wasn't like the other twerps who were always quick to blast him off. He remembered the time when Brock had been his only comfort when Jesse completely ruined his designs in a contest. The tall, dark, and handsome twerp had even been able to appreciate his designs and notcied them under the copious amounts of ridiculous make-up Jesse had indulged herself in.

Over the past few days, he'd gotten to know Brock on quite a different level, mostly due to the fact that he had been disguised as a woman since the manager never hired men. The more he got to know him, the more James found himself widdling away the endless hours of cleaning rooms with thoughts of the man. James knew a long time ago that he wasn't quite normal with his sexuality, but he knew for a fact that the breeder went gaga over every girl he laid eyes on...except Jane. And even if something more were to happen, then he couldn't keep this secret from him.

He cared too much.

"Is something wrong?" Brock asked, looking over at James from his magazine. James looked up and noticed the concern in Brock's eyes. He must have been observing him this whole time.

"Uh yeah, never better," James smiled unconvencingly.

"Hey, what would your manager say to you showing a guest which room had the perfect view of the city below from its balcony?" Brock smiled, setting the magazine back on the table.

"He'd get mad. Come on, the best view is in room 647," James grinned, taking Brock's hand and pulling him along to the elevator. As soon as they got there, he immediantly dropped Brock's hand, blushing at what he had done. Why was he acting this way? Brock was a twerp and therefore the enemy.

"No need to worry," Brock smiled and took James' hand. He blushed profusely.

"Focus James," he coached himself mentaly. He tried to convence himself that he had been doing as Jesse had suggested and getting close to Brock so he could use him to get to Pikachu, but who was he kidding? James had fallen head over heels for the breeder. The two got on the elevator in silence as it climbed to the sixth floor. "This way," James motioned, leading Brock down the hall to room 647. He took out his master key and opened the door. Luckily, no one was currently staying in the room.

"Oh wow, this room is really big!" Brock looked around at the huge floor space and beautiful bed.

"This is where the really important guests stay due to the view. It costs more, but considering how nice this bed is compared to the others, it's certainly worth it." James lead Brock to the balcony and slid the sliding glass door out of the way. James had never personally been on the balcony to this room, but the view was as breathtaking as he had heard. You could see the whole city from this room and the various lights of the skyscrappers mingled with the stars above.

"This really is amazing," Brock smiled, leaning on the railing. James looked over at him and felt his stomach do flip-flops. "Thanks for showing me, Jane," Brock turned to look into James' eyes. Brock was leaning in for a kiss when James stopped him. He couldn't do this any longer, not to Brock. "What's wrong?" Brock asked, genuinely confused.

"This is. I can't keep lying to you. I'm not who you think I am." James pulled off his wig and removed his apron and dress to reveal his Team Rocket uniform underneath. "I'm James of Team Rocket."

"I know," Brock grinned, closing the distance between them. "I've seen you wear that wig before," He then kissed a very startled James.

Small Biblio Excerpt 2/10/09

I wrote this ages ago. So in the writing blog it goes.

ooo

“You want to go back to your home, don’t you?” Anne asked in a conversational tone as she poured the two of them a cup of tea. Biblio pushed the cup aside as always, but she didn’t seem to notice. He looked up at her and nodded his head. “I thought you might.” She smiled down at him as she placed a plate of boiled potatoes on the tables.

“Home. Find it.” Biblio nodded. He had no idea where to even begin to look, but he had to try.

“Well, you’ll probably be heading back to New Zealand, then? I doubt you can fly that far and over an ocean to boot,” Anne paused thoughtfully, placing a finger to her chin. She left the table suddenly, mumbling to herself.

Biblio grabbed a potato and popped it into his mouth before jumping down from his seat and following Anne. She walked from the small field into the woods. They walked for what seemed hours. Biblio had never been out this far before and he was wary, ears perking up at every sound.

“Here we are!” Anne exclaimed, holding up her hands. Biblio saw another hand-built shack like the one they had just come from, except this one was a lot bigger. Biblio cocked his head to the side as he watched Anne skip excitedly over to the door. “Wait right here while I get everything ready,” she giggled, dodging inside and slamming the door behind her.

Biblio watched the shack patiently, looking around to make sure there were no predators on the prowl every now and then. He noticed that the sun was starting to make its descent from the top of the sky. How long had they been out here?

He heard a sudden loud noise coming from the shack. He flew into the top branches of a nearby tree as fast as he could, heart racing. He watched as the boards were pushed outward and fell in a heap on the ground. “Come on down here, silly!” Anne called.

Biblio landed on the ground, crouching on all fours as he walked cautiously forward. “Predator?” He asked.

“Of course not!” Anne kicked aside some of the boards that had fallen to clear a path to what appeared to be a rowboat with a large red sheet tied to it with several ropes. “You said you sailed the seas, but I bet you’ve never sailed the skies. This here is my flying ship, the SS Angel Wing. The second I saw you land in my field, I knew you would have to return to your home and so I always planned to give this to you to, you know, help your destiny along.”

“Sail the skies?” Biblio asked, thoroughly confused. He walked over to the boat. How could this thing ever fly? It didn’t even have wings!

“It sure can. I’ll show you.” Anne walked over to the boat and held her hands to the red sheet. She mumbled to herself and her hands glowed a faint yellow color. Biblio’s eyes widened. She was using magic! All this time, he had thought her mumblings were just an odd quirk of hers like when she skipped or always offered him tea. He had heard tales of magic when he sailed with Morgan, but Morgan had said that magic had fallen from the world a long time ago.

Anne stood, smiling to herself as the red sheet --which was actually a balloon--rose from the ground. Biblio released his wings, preparing to flee if necessary. Anne laughed at him. “I can see you’re surprised. Remember, something’s not dead or gone until everyone who believes in it is dead or gone. Magic won’t be gone until all those who believe in it are.” Biblio nodded.

The ropes pulled taut as the boat rose into the air along with the balloon. It hovered just above the ground as a rope was tied from the sky boat to a stake. “I never got a chance to fly this myself, but I never needed to fly.” She smiled at the boat proudly. “The oars on the side are attached to ropes and depending on which way you row, the boat will turn in that direction. It’s easy enough to get the hang of once you try it yourself.”

Biblio nodded and looked up at Anne. “It okay?” He asked.

“Of course it is. You have to get back to New Zealand and I have to stay here, so I have no use for this old thing.” Anne bent down and hugged him tightly. Biblio looked up at her and felt incredibly sad. He was once again leaving someone he had gotten close to but never really had gotten to know. Who knew Morgan wasn’t a real captain and who knew Anne could use magic? People were so colorful and full of surprise and he hoped that he could meet more that were as nice as his two friends.

When Anne stood back up, Biblio flew into the boat and withdrew his wings. He leaned over the side and watched as Anne untied it. “I’ve used some magic to help guide you, but feel free to explore as you wish. Good luck Biblio!” Anne waved goodbye and Biblio raised a paw. He didn’t understand human gestures very well, but he knew she understood what he meant. Biblio watched as she grew smaller as the boat rose higher.

Biblio grabbed an oar and rowed with it. The boat turned in the desired direction and began flying towards the sea. He was surrounded by cliffs on either side and sea gulls flew as fast as they could to avoid him. Biblio closed his eyes, feeling the wind on his fur. Ah, nothing could ever beat the sensation of sailing and beginning yet another new adventure.