flower writing doodle 8/30/2010

I rather like how this came out. I have no idea where I was going with it, though. I'll need to actually get an idea around this should I ever want to finish.

~


There were dead flowers everywhere. It was the first thing she noticed when she entered the gates and the last as she stepped inside the old mansion. Being a gardener, she didn't think to admire the grand, yet slightly disarrayed appearance of the house or the fact that rolling hills painted the background. Nope, just the flowers. "Hello?" she called out nervously. She clutched her bag in front of her to keep from wringing her hands as she often did when she was very aware of herself.

A tall, rather lanky man appeared in the hallway. From his attire, it was obvious that he was the hired help. "Please do hand me your coat and hat madam. My master is waiting for you in the parlor to your right." She nodded, obliging immediately. She removed her green overcoat and slid her matching hat off her peppered hair. As she handed it to the help, she noticed that the daisy she had secured through the ribbon tied around the middle was wilted.

"What is this place?" she wondered aloud.

"This is Harken's manor," a voiced boomed from the parlor. She jumped and then quickly scurried into the room as the help disappeared back to where ever he had come from. In front of her a man with a rather large nose and sunken, tired eyes. He appeared to be young, but his dreary black suit and pale skin marred this. If she hadn't read the letter that called her to this place beforehand, she would have assumed he was of the same age as her. "And I am Mr. Harken."

She hesitated before nodding her head in a show of respect. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Penny Greensend." She made no move to offer her hand and neither did Mr. Harken.

"Please sit," he motioned to a chair in front of him. Beside it was a vase of fake roses. Penny took the chair as he spoke again. "As I'm sure you noticed when you came in, the flowers need tending to. I've tried many gardeners, but none were capable of bringing lilies to life in my yard, or anything else for that matter. The last one mentioned you and said that you have such a talent for flowers that your house puts Central Park to shame. Is this true?"

Penny thought for a second, "I suppose it is, although I wouldn't be so bold as to all it better than the flowers at the park."

"How humble," Mr. Harken smirked, clasping his hands in front of him as he leaned forward. "I'm delighted that you responded so quickly to my letter. Of course, money is no issue so I can pay you what you like if you are able to get lilies to grow once more in the gardens in front of my manor. The butler can assist you with any tools you should need and you're free to come in for a drink or nourishment as you see fit. I only ask that you stay in the kitchen, garden, and the shed and away from the rest of the house as I'm a rather private person and enjoy my space. I'm sure you can understand such wishes." Penny nodded as Mr. Harken stood. "When can you start?"

"Well, I have nothing else to do today."

He smiled. "Good. Mr Wing!" Harken snapped his fingers and the help came lumbering into the room. "Lead Ms. Greensend to the shed in the back. Show her where the gardening tools are." He nodded and gently guided her into the kitchen and from there through a side door. He waved her on her way and retreated back into the manor.

Penny saw the shed in the back. It was nearly the size of her small house. What she assumed was once a dogwood tree leaned against the shed, dead or nearly there judging by the way a tiny green leaf still clung stubbornly to one of its branches. "Five gardeners have already tried to tame this land, but nothin' ever grows." His voice was, she now noticed, heavily accented. Judging by his mop of ginger hair, she assumed he was Irish, but didn't deem it apropriate to ask.

"Why is that?" she asked curiously.

"Dunno. Mr. Harken is, as he told you, a very private person. Even I'm not allowed in a good majority of the rooms." Mr, Wing reached into his pocket and pulled out a large ring of keys. "He gave me the keys to all the rooms, though, but I don't dare cross him. He seems the type to not be very forgiving." He sorted through the keys before settling on a larger one. He opened the lock of the shed and opened the doors. "I should have the master make you a set for the kitchen and shed, well if you last as our gardener that is. None ever do beyond a few days."

She looked over the bags of fertalizer and pesticide. There was a box of lily bulbs and several other seed packets tossed haphazardly onto a shelf. On the wall hung tools of various sizes and types for gardening. "He sure has everything covered, it seems, although I think I may have to bring in some of my own fertalizer and such as I'm not familiar with this stuff here."

"I'll ask the master if that's okay. I'll go ahead and leave you to this, just lock the door behind you and stay on track." Penny waved as Mr. Wing lopped back to the manor. She sized up a few hoes and spades before selecting a few satisfactory ones. She grabbed a bag of fertalizer so she could examine it and the box of bulbs. She pushed the door closed behind her and juggled the load in her arms as she locked the door back then headed to the front and set to her work.

Very short Pokemon drabble 7/13/2010

This features my original character Kaida. She has a huge back story and not the best life, but she eventually discovers herself and sets out for a new land. This is just a mall drabble I wrote for an experiment...or something.

~

It was something more grand than I could comprehend. Above me, the stars twinkled and the moon cast its light on the lake water below. Along the lake's surface snoozed several surskit and a few Volbeat flashed flirtatiously to a group of gathered Illumise as the hoots of Noctowl perched in the trees created a score for the activities of the night. Those who cast this time as a metaphor for death have never truly experianced nightfall. It's brimming with just as much life as the day and in my opinion, the stars in the sky are much more beautiful than the cotton puffs of the day. I laid back in the cool grass, closing my eyes. I heard a rustle behind me and then a few sorrowful notes. It seemed a band of Kricketot and Kricketune were gracing me with a performance tonight.

I listened as they strummed out their emotions in a way words could never portray. I sighed, jealous. It would be so easy if I could only release my emotions in such a way, but I've never been musically inclined and I would be more likely to stare at a peice of paper at a loss for words than compose them into poetry. The only way I knew how to express myself was through battle. I picked a pokeball from my belt and stood up. The Kricketune band stopped playing at my disturbance and hopped away. The Kircketot chattered to themselves and considered me to see if I was a threat. I threw my pokeball into the air and they scattered as well. Suddenly the night had become more still.

My Banette stood before me, hugging the doll it carried close. It was still attached to the doll it was born from and I had no intention of ever changing that. After all--I looked at the fading brown stripe dyed in my hair--I was the same way. "Bay?" Banette looked up at me, expectent for a command. I had none to give. I was even at a lose when it came to battling at the moment.

Silent Hill drabble 5/25/2010

I wrote this based on events between games 1 and 3. I love Silent Hill and the relationship between Heather and her  father Harry. I pretty much love all of Silent Hill and the universe. I would love to make a psychological story like that. Anyways, that's neither here nor there. For now, here's what I wrote.

~

Harry stared blankly at the TV where some show--sports or something--was on commercial break. He was slumped in his old arm chair glancing anxiously at the door every few seconds. She should have been home by now. The show's announcer shouted words that held no meaning for him as a crowd cheered. He turned the power off and rushed over to the phone. He would start down the line. There was a list of numbers he would methodically call whenever she was late. First was the local police and then the hospital, followed by the mother of some friend. Last was the police station in Brahams. He had never had to call down to that number and prayed he never did because if he did, it would probably be too late.

"Hello, Ashfield Police," the voice on the other end answered, sounding bored, "how can I help you?"

"My daughter's missing. She was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago." Harry said urgently into the receiver.

"Sir, we can't file a missing person's case over just twenty minutes. How old is she?"

"My daughter's sixteen and--"

"Oh, a teenager," the police officer on the other end chuckled.

"You don't understand. Heather's not like this." Harry leaned against the wall.

"Sir, every parent doesn't want to think their child could be a wild party girl, but trust me, she's probably so busy hanging out that she let the time slip away. If you don't hear anything in another hour or so, then you can call us again."

"Hey wait!" Harry shouted as the officer hung up. He growled in frustration and began punching in the numbers for the hospital. The phone had started to ring when the door handle turned and in slinked his little girl.

"Hello, Ashfield general," another bored voice asked. Harry placed the receiver back on the cradle and glared at his daughter with narrowed eyes.

"Sorry Dad," she looked away, shifting under his glare uncomfortably. "I missed my bus because I dropped my bag and the wind decided that it would steal my essay." Heather laughed nervously.

Harry sighed. It wasn't her fault that he was so uptight. He reached forward and pulled her into his embrace. She breathed in deeply, hugging him back. "It's okay. I just worry about you."

"I know," Heather said as she turned towards her room. "Oh, the library had pizza for the children today and I stole a few slices, so you don't have to worry about making dinner tonight." With that, she entered her room and closed her door behind her.

Harry couldn't help but smile. She was always looking out for him as much as he did for her. It wasn't either of their faults that they were in the situation they were in even if in the begining he had blamed her. This child had come from the world of someone's nightmareish delusions brought to life and it was his job to keep her safe. He may have hated her in the begining for not being his little Cheryl, but now she had grown to be something even more and he loved her more every day. Her spirit shined through and she was a daughter any father would feel lucky to have, especially him, especially after what it took to get her.

Harry began whistling to himself as he pulled a microwave meal from the freezer.

drabble of some sort 5/8/2010

I don't even know why I wrote this or the purpose or anything, but here it is.

~

The stars were bright that night. I remember it well. Unlike here, the city lights were covered and provided merely an ambiant glow to guide the way rather than a blazing flash of white that drowned out the sky. I wanted to mention that to her, but it seemed redundant. She had grown up here in this city rather than the bustling metropolis I'd come from. The whole city was gorgeous and it was filled with music and fetivities rather than speeding cars and police sirens. How could she want to leave all of this? I hadn't even been here two days and I'd already fallen in love. With more than the miasta setting.

"Are you sure you want to leave?" I turned to her. Her eyes were on an accordian player, pulling and pushing his instrument. Polka music streamed from its bellows to the amusement of the gathered crowd. In front of him, a cup full of gold coins glinted in the street light. A few of the people had started to dance and the rest clapped along to the beat.

"Yes." She said simply. She turned to me and smiled. "Don't worry."

"But it's so peaceful here. Where I come from, I'd give anything for this." I leaned on the railing of the balcony we were standing on. It overlooked the square and offered the perfect view of everything. I almost wished I was just one of the normal civilians dancing without a care in the world rather than what I was. What we were.

"This has been my home for so long. I think I'm ready to leave." She walked over and stood beside me, leaning on the railing as well.

"It's a big risk. What if we don't come back to Krakow?"

She went to say something and then paused. I looked beside me and she was gone. I only worried for a second before I felt reassuring arms encircle me. "You took a big risk coming here." I closed my eyes and breathed in. The scent of her, cinnamin with a hint of apple, filled me. I felt tears come to my eyes. I turned in her arms so I was facing her and hugged her back. "It's going to be fine."

"Yeah," I sighed, tears coming to my eyes. "I just...What if people won't let us be? What if something goes wrong? This whole thing, what if --" She put a finger to my lips.

"You worry too much." And then to make sure I wouldn't continue with the what-if's, she brought her lips to mine.

There would be lots of worries and trials on the way. I knew this beyond a doubt. For right now, though, we had this moment to hold and it would be there to carry us along whatever we would face along the way.

Wenn ich war König von Deutschland

I wrote this for German class. It amuses me still.

ooo

          Wenn ich war König von Deutschland ich zuerst würde überfallen Polen. Nachdem, den ich keine mehr Länder überfallen würde, die so andere Nationen Krieg gegen Deutschland nicht führen würden. Dann würde ich Polen ‚Deutschland 2‘ nennen aber ich würde sie verwandeln ihre Währung zu Euros nicht machen. Ich würde eine Partei für alle von Polen und Deutschland werfen. Befreien Sie Bier und befreien Sie Nintendo Wiis würde gegeben werden zu jedem.

           Jeden Freitag würden die Leute alberne Hüte tragen. Ich würde die ganzen Videospiele kaufen die ich je habe gewollt und spielt sie jeden Tag. Nachdem, der ich die Stadt von ‚Silent Hill‘ in Luxemberg neu erschaffen würde. Verbrecher würden dort geschickt werden, für ihre Verbrechen zu bereuen.

           Ich würde Halloween Deutschland einführen. Ich lassen bauen eine Disney Welt in Berlin zu vermehren Tourismus. Dann würde ich marschierend Band steht zur Verfügung in Schulen machen. Die obersten marschierenden Bänder würden für mein Vergnügen konkurrieren. Ich würde das oberste Band mit freier Wurst für ein Jahr. Der Gewinner würde Karten zu einem Rammstein Konzert erhalten. Auch würde ich Anita Campitelli befreit Konzertkarten für eine hundert Jahre geben.

           Ich würde einen Volkswagen Beetle kaufen. Ich würde die Welt mit meinen Freunden reisen. Dann würde mich ich mit dem Leiter jedes Landes treffen und würde das gute Wort von Deutschland ausbreiten. Ich würde zurückkehren und die Leute würden sich freuen und würden mir Abendessen kaufen. Ich würde dann jene Person befreit Speise für immer geben.

           Deutschland wäre ein Land der Glücks und Festlichkeit. Ich hoffe meine Zeit, als König gute Erinnerungen mit den Leuten verlassen würde.

Reverse Rain Poem 3/10/2010

This poem goes with a short story I wrote.

~

You live your life through others lies
You see only what you want
hidden
Like a daffodil that never blooms
You aren't even sleeping are you?
Gave up on that a long time ago.
drifting
The shadows you live in flicker
A candle flame dancing.
The wax burns your hand.
You aren't used to the heat are you?
raining
Your life drizzles slowly by.
Images dance in the distant light.
Do you hear them calling out to you?
Their voices compose your symphony.
forever
Blood-stained hands mark your path
You can't give back a wasted life.
Nothing left to see.
tired
So why worry now?
You've earned this.
sleep

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.