ShadowDream

shadowdream @ 2011-07-09T16:54:00

2011-07-09T20:54:49Z

I am such a bad LJ'er. I haven't posted in much, much too long.

Things have been pretty good around here, other than the usual money woes (those are actually pretty bad right now. Oh for about $3000-4000 to just drop on my doorstep out of nowhere so I can pay things off, get things fixed, and start focusing on the business instead of just trying to survive day to day.)

I had a great time camping a few weeks ago, with friends from DDO. I've been reading and writing lots. Oh! And I took up sandboarding! Have I talked about that here yet? If not, I need to get my butt back in gear!

Hopefully there will be more posts soon. I'll get some of the writing I've been doing posted up here also, and maybe start tackling some of the meatier topics that have been on my mind lately.

Though I've been pretty silent, I do continue to read. In case I've missed something though... How've ya'll been?

shadowdream @ 2011-02-26T15:27:00

2011-02-26T20:27:26Z

Found this on someone's journal while browsing around and am stealing it shamelessly.

YOU CAN ASK ME SIX QUESTIONS:

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.

No matter how random, revealing, silly, naughty or pointless. I promise to answer them 100% truthfully. All questions are completely confidential. All comments are screened. Watch your inbox for answers to your questions.

Music Meme

2011-02-20T22:32:20Z

1. Reply to this post and I'll assign you a letter.
2. List (and upload.. or linkie youtube videos of) 5 songs you love that begin with that letter.
3. Post them to your journal with these instructions.

nyxie gave me the letter N. Which was actually pretty tough! Had to do some digging through my collection to find these. And no, I'm not going to rickroll ya'll. ;) Though I did consider it.

So, I'm really really bad at picking just five. So... Top 5 will be above the cut, the rest under, if you're interested. My music taste is very varied, so there is all sorts of stuff on here.

The next one is a doors song. The whole song is Celebration of the Lizard, but the two main parts of said song that I like are also separate, as songs of their own: Not to Touch the Earth, and Names of the Kingdoms.. So, I'm just going to cheat and link the full song. The very end, the Odyssey reference, is my favorite.. But I just adore the whole song in general.

Ok.. This one is really only on here because it amuses me to listen to on my trips out east. The hubby and I always drive out to see my family, and we always stop in New York (though usually like Ithica or Utica) to sleep, IF we sleep on the way. We usually get very loopy about halfway and if this is on the mp3 player or on the radio, we end up cranking it.

This one I use to torture the unsuspecting on a regular basis. *grins* This is not the good (well, that might not be the right word) mp3 version I have... But it'll work.

This last one I really like, but I CANNOT find a youtube version of it.. So, here's a linkie. Those of you who used to be on talkers with me, I think you'll find it a little amusing too. (at least those who were on dreamscape.)

Eve 6 - Nightmare

Brigit's Flame All Stars - Week 2 - Shaken by a low sound

2011-01-17T00:08:34Z

The sun was setting over the Great Cathedral of Albria, its red-gold orb looking caught amongst the spires like a jewel on a crown. The sky was painted in shades of crimson and orange, bathing the crowd below in a ruddy light.

Smudge lay on her stomach on the edge of one of the nearby dormitories, her crossbow trained on the stage below. She stayed low, using the shadow of the decorative merlons she lay between for cover. The procession had already filed out and the formally boisterous crowd was hushed, anticipating the doom of the man kneeling on the platform in the center of the stage.

She had been surprised when she burst into Phillip's house the night before, ready to plead for his help in saving Armen from his fate, only to find that Phillip was already plotting to do so. She had been sure she'd have to talk him into it, that it was going to be a test of all her patience to get him to see that it wasn't just the old man's fault that he had gotten caught, but that in getting caught up in all the murky politics going on, they had almost certainly brought this upon him.

But there he had been, pacing his study, books scattered everywhere, cooking up a plot to rescue Armen that most likely would have cost him his own life. She was glad he had listened to reason and let her help. Together, they at least had a chance.

She let out a long breath to calm her nerves and stretched her fingers one by one, keeping her grip on the crossbow relaxed as she watched for Phillip's signal. The lord Justice began his reading of the charges against Armen, and when he gave the church's verdict the crowd went wild, all too ready to see blood.

Phillip leapt onto the stage as the lord Justice gave his declaration. Her finger slid over the trigger and she readied herself, thankful that the target was obvious enough she could get him sighted in before Phillip had to point him out.

Phillip strode forward, his dramatic costume flowing out around him... And held up his hands to quiet the crowd. Smudge groaned inwardly. This was not the plan. Leave it to Phillip to take the most dangerous moment of his life and turn it into a lecture. Was he insane?

To her surprise, the crowd was so shocked they did indeed quiet, and Phillip began to speak.

“They say history is written by the victor,” he called out in the tones of an orator. “It would serve you all well to remember that notions such as law can also be rewritten to suit the needs of those in power. And remember also, that in time – perhaps sooner than you think – those laws may be forced to change again.”

He leveled his staff at the golem controller -Smudge's signal- and motioned with his free hand for he Justice to stay where he was.

“Sometimes, however, one just has to deal with the fact that they are the laws, and settle for flagrantly disregarding them. Now, if you would be so kind as to release him, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to continue my rudely interrupted consorting.”

As Phillip declared his hostility those on the stage began to move again, their shock overcome. A bad feeling had set itself, heavy, in the pit of Smudge's stomach at those words. They had an effect on the crowd. The silence was broken, and where they were all calling for the blood of Armen before, now some called out against the church.

Now, amongst all the other charges that could be leveled at them, they were inciting revolution. The church's power in politics was wavering as it was. They'd be hunted twice as hard for this.

There was no time to worry about it now, twice damned was still damned. Smudge let out her breath and took her shot, the blunted bolt sailing out to catch the golem's controller square in the chest.

Smudge held her breath, praying that the enchantment Phillip laid held true. The golem controller swayed a moment, then fell heavily to the ground. Quickly, without waiting to see how the golem reacted, she ducked her head and covered her eyes with her arms.

Below, Phillip unleashed his spell, a brilliant flash of light that blinded those on the stage, followed by a deep booming, not unlike a peal of thunder. The cathedral bells resonated with the sound, and Smudge looked down, shaken somewhat by witnessing just what her friend was capable of.

The golem turned from her to Phillip, readying itself for a charge. Quickly she fired off a shot at the golem, knowing it would be immune to the magic of the bolt, but hoping that it would prove a distraction. The bolt shattered against its head and the giant turned, holding up a bladed arm like a shield. She reloaded another bolt, took aim, and shot the controller again, taking advantage of the fact that the golem would protect its controller first and foremost.

Briefly, she wondered if the effects of the bolts on the controller would be cumulative. They were supposed to keep him unconscious for a few hours, maybe a day each. She really hoped the more bolts she hit him with, the longer he'd be out. It might give them a chance to get far enough ahead of the golem before they had to worry about it getting smarter, under the priest's control.

She shot another bolt at the controller as she watched Phillip dive and grab Armen, pulling him from the stage. The golem charged, leaping from the stage to the square and landing with a deep metallic boom.

"Okay, Phillip," she said softly, "You're on your own from here." With a quick look of regret, she left her crossbow where it was, slipping the extra bolts into a small holster at her hip. It would only hinder her in the chase, and it wasn't something anyone could tie directly to her. In fact, it was one she'd liberated from the armory of the watch not too long ago.

She took a running start and leapt to the next rooftop, scanning ahead for the best route. The golem followed, its long loping strides a rhythmic clank on the street below. She would keep to the rooftops so all she would have to avoid was the golem. There was no guard up here to make her flight more difficult. From here through the market wouldn't be so bad. The buildings were close enough together in places that she could just run across them. As she got to the better sections of town, however, they spread out and it could get tricky.

She ran across the top of the next few buildings, the small gaps between the rooftops not breaking her stride. At the end of the block, she turned left, leaping a larger gap to a lower building and dropping into a roll to cut her momentum. As soon as the golem lost sight of her, it turned as well, putting bladed arms out in front of it and tearing through the wall that was in its way. There were screams of surprise from inside the building and the shop's patrons, along with a terrified shopkeeper, came barreling out the other side, the golem not far behind.

Smudge frowned, her mind working quickly on a new plan. She needed to put distance between her and the golem, and she was sure driving it through building after building would do it, but she couldn't in good conscience do that. On one hand, one of the church's boogeymen destroying half of the marketplace would hurt their political standing further, but on the other, the people in this city had it bad enough trying to make ends meet without her destroying their livelihoods.

She climbed up a short ladder to the adjoining building and glanced back at her pursuer. As it came through the crowded market, it dodged around the milling people, keeping its blades tight to its body. It would not run down an innocent. The people weren't going to slow it much, they were fleeing ahead of it and giving it as wide a path as they could to follow her, but if she could find a smaller place, with a high concentration of people...

She grinned wickedly as the thought came to her. The grand gala that Phillip had been lamenting missing tonight would be perfect! She didn't mind a little bit of collateral damage in that section of town, and there was sure to be a large crowd of people packed into that estate.

She swung over the edge of the rooftop, dropping down into a crouch, and took off at a sprint down the alley. A great leap propelled her at the next wall, and she planted one foot and then the next, seeming to nearly walk up its face before her hands caught the overhang of the roof and pulled her up.

~~***~~

Lord Eritson made his way around the party, checking on his guests and making sure everything was going smoothly. For the past few months he'd been dropping hints about tonight's entertainment, building the anticipation. He was terribly pleased with himself. He was well known for the surprises and entertainment his grand galas always provided, and he was quite sure he was going to outdo himself this time. The training had gone beautifully, and everything was finally ready.

A quartet of Albria's finest musicians played off to one side of the garden, and everybody who was anybody within three days travel of the city was mingling and dancing, enjoying the evening air. There was a feeling of anticipation, for sure, though perhaps not quite how Lord Eritson perceived it. His parties were enjoyable. His guests enjoyed some of the best music and and food anyone could offer. It was a chance to see and be seen.

The entertainment, however, had become a great joke among the nobility. Always, Lord Eritson thought himself clever, dropping hints here and there leading up to the night, promising them a surprise they would never forget. And every time, it was something absolutely banal or ridiculous. Last time it had been a choir of "singing" dogs, all dressed in the latest fashions. The time before that a shadow puppet play about the politics leading up to the battle of Sarnil, that of course ended just before the battle.

Eritson made his way to the stage and peered behind the curtain. "Are we ready?" he whispered to a rather beleaguered looking man who was running around setting up scenery.

"I'm not entirely sure we should go through with this tonight, m'lord. The.. the animals are not playing along. They seem restless for some reason, and I'm not sure they'll perform the way we want them to," the man replied nervously.

"Pish posh. The show must go on! Get them ready. We will start in five minutes!"

"Yes, m'lord," he replied with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. He shook his head and set about getting the monkeys costumed and set up for the play.

"Five minutes to curtain call, my friends," Lord Eritson called out, clapping his hands. "Make your way to your seats and prepare yourself for a spectacular play, the likes of which you've never seen before!"

~~***~~

Smudge vaulted over the wall that surrounded the grand estates, hanging a second before carefully dropping down into a crouch. She was nearly there. If she could just get to the other side of this section of town, she could get over the main wall and out to where Phillip was waiting with horses.

Behind her the golem came crashing through the nearby gate, sending even the stalwart watch running in the opposite direction. She took a deep breath, just starting to feel the fatigue working into her muscles, and set off again, running through the twisting streets.

A few blocks down, she saw the estate she was searching for. Grand carriages with beautiful horses filled the front yard, telling of the huge crowd within. The last few stanzas of a stately tune floated over the garden wall, mingling with the sound of murmuring voices and laughter. Smudge grinned and sprinted around the back. She leapt, caught a handhold at the top of the wall and hauled herself up.

On the other side, a huge gathering of nobles sat in semi-circles facing her perch. Their attention, however, was focused on the stage directly below her, where Lord Eritson stood before the closed curtains, announcing the start of his grand surprise.

Smudge stifled a laugh. Behind the curtain were a dozen small, ridiculously dressed monkeys, all chittering and looking nervously around. Some grand entertainment.

The golem's footsteps sounded behind her, quickly closing on her position. She grinned and dropped down from the wall, quietly landing on the stage behind the curtain. At that moment, the curtain raised and Smudge gave an extravagant bow before the crowd. For their part, the assembled nobles looked upon her and the surrounding cast of monkeys with utter confusion. There wasn't a sound from among them.

She laughed and tumbled from the stage, taking off running through the center isle. A second later, chunks of stone crumbled inward as the golem ploughed through. Monkeys scattered, screaming and leaping from place to place, trying to flee the giant monster. The audience became chaos as they realized the golem was not going to stop at the edge of the stage and put on a little show, but that it was coming right for them.

A woman screamed and fainted as a monkey leapt at her and clung to her arm, gibbering in fear. All around people scattered, knocking over chairs, and trying to get out of the way. The garden, however, was too small to hold all of the chaos, and it only served to create a large mass of shoving bodies and fainting fops.

Lord Marwell let out a bellow and drew steel. "Form a defensive line behind the buffet!" He shouted, kicking over the long buffet tables and moving to pull the unconscious woman behind them.

Lord Eritson just stood in the middle of it all, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly in shock, as his party crumbled around him.

Smudge made it to the other side of the garden and glanced back as she took a perch at the top of the wall. The golem was stepping from side to side almost comically, first trying to dodge the crowd one way and then the other. It was so chaotic, people running back and forth, fainting dead away, even a few people trying to engage and attack the golem itself, that the golem couldn't find a way through without hurting anyone.

She took a deep breath and fought down laughter as she leapt off the other side, hitting the ground running. She knew this wouldn't keep it engaged forever, but at least it would give her a chance to get to Phillip, and maybe give them a small head start in their escape.

shadowdream @ 2011-01-14T16:07:00

2011-01-14T21:06:58Z

I realized something this morning, in my sleep deprived state.

I've been spending a lot of time online lately. At first like over the summer and fall, it was listless poking at LJ, email, facebook, IM's to see if anyone was around. I was feeling lonely and rarely finding anyone to talk to. It made me feel worse, feel more disconnected.

Now, recently, I've been chatting with old friends, and I've been roleplaying a LOT on DDO, and chatting with new friends from there when I'm not RPing. It has been nice. I have been happy to be talking, sharing, laughing.

I don't have a lot of close friends locally. I just.. Eh, haven't found many people who click. When I do, they move, or live a few hours away and we never see each other. So, other than when we get people together for gaming (which consists of Jav (for those tuning in fairly recently, that is my hubby's best friend since they were little kids, who is also our housemate, and a good friend.), Jav's brother (tazdaddy on here. Who is awesome and also a good friend), and Jav's nephew) I really don't have much of a social life or have friends I can just hang around and TALK to. Jav and Tazdaddy are awesome, but... Probably don't want to know much of what goes on in my head, or really want to listen to me ramble.

Shadorn is amazing, and he is my best friend. We talk lots. We share the same interests and literally do pretty much everything together. I love this and wouldn't have it any other way. But, it doesn't scratch the social itch, ya know?

Despite being a fairly introverted person, I've always been pretty social. I have always had my few close friends and spent most of my time with them. So, there is still that need.

So, as usual, watching myself and my reactions, trying to understand the why of what I do, I was trying to figure out why it was I was spending so much time on the computer. What changed to make me suddenly care so much about finding this social outlet? What had changed to make me care that there was someone else out there to talk to and ramble with besides Shadorn? (who is ever patient with my rambling. ;) ) Actually, it took me a bit to even realize that I was looking for a social outlet. It took me finding it to realize that was what I was missing.

At first, I figured that it was just because until about a year and a half ago, I was working in a busy office and I had enough social interaction there. But that wasn't it. That didn't fit. That was FAR from good social interaction, save for one or two people most days. And for like 8 months after that, it wasn't a problem. I was fine.

This morning, talking to Shadorn, I realized why. All this time, living out here in MI, I'd always had my dad to talk to. We'd chat online for hours, send each other random stuff via email and IM. About once a week, or sometimes once or twice a month depending on life, we'd call each other and talk for hours. I know a few times I can easily count 7 hours on the phone, and I know there were days closer to 12. We talked about everything and nothing. We'd sit on the phone like teenage girls do and just do other things and chat as the conversation came up, sometimes just quiet for a while. I listened to him vent about things and talked them out, and vice versa. We were so much alike that he understood how my strange brain worked, because his worked the same way.

I had that outlet. It didn't matter that I didn't have a lot of close friends here, didn't really occur to me often.

And now, I don't have it anymore. This is a hard realization. It opens a wound I thought was starting to heal. I have dealt with the actual loss. Knowing everything that was going on medically, I am at peace with it. I am actually glad for him that things happened as they did. He didn't suffer, and he didn't have to deal with all the procedures and a drawn out life of poor health. That would have been so much worse for him. He was ever the invincible 20something, even when he was almost 50. That part I can handle, now. I can even accept and cope with the fact that there is so much of life left that I won't be able to share with him.

This though.. is something new. This is something I hadn't really looked at too closely. I mean, I realized it was gone, and I missed it, but I hadn't realized went as deep as it did. It makes the loss fresh again.

It is good to understand why things have changed for me, such as they have. It clears a lot of whys up, looking back over the past few months... But, it is hard, just the same.

Brigit's Flame - All Stars week 1 - Take the Cloth

2011-01-08T23:57:30Z

The square before the great cathedral of Albria was full to overflowing with a bustling and raucous crowd. It seemed nearly all of the poor and working classes had gathered today in festive celebration. They were to see something this evening that had only been seen maybe once or twice in their lifetimes.

All day, the lord Justice and his advisers had been at council and prayer, deciding the fate of some fool man who stood accused of a great crime against the church. Of course, no one seemed to know exactly what that crime was. Some whispered that it was mage-craft, summoning up the Umbriag to come and eat little children and rape women. Other stories said that he was just a poor man, falsely accused because some wealthy merchant wanted his property. Either way, there was to be a show this evening. When the doors to the Hall of Justice opened, they would either have a pardoning, or an execution. Most were hoping for the execution.

Phillip looked out over the masses with a disgusted expression. They seemed to him like a flock of vultures, excited over the latest bit of rotting carrion. Why the people gathered and celebrated over the possible killing of someone whose death did not benefit them in any way, he just could not fathom.

He shook his head and ran his fingers over his face tiredly, gently pulling on the false beard he wore to make sure it was still stuck on properly. He'd had to shave off his goatee so that this beard would be convincing enough. He'd had to straighten his fashionable curls and set his hair wild and unkempt, shining black powdered to an iron grey. He no longer looked the part of the gentleman he so often played, the gentleman he would have been playing tonight at Lord Eritson's grand gala, if this mess had not happened.

Today he wore another costume, played a different part. The grey hair, the beard, ratty grey robes, and long gnarled staff, conjured up the look of the wizened mage, at least the one so popular in the “historical” plays and stories nowadays. It chafed him to play such a stereotype, but if he wanted to get out of this alive, the disguise, and the effect it would have on the crowd, was a necessity.

He glanced up to the rooftops opposite the setting sun, where he knew Smudge would be situated. She was nowhere to be seen, but he had faith in her. She was there, and could be counted on for her part. Honestly, if he could have seen her, he would have been disappointed.

Not for the first time, he devoutly hoped that those bolts he had enchanted the night before would hold their potency and do what they were supposed to. So much hinged on them working just right. He had his ideas on what he would do if they didn't, but the chance of everyone getting out of it unscathed went down exponentially. It was the first time he had tried enchanting anything, and he was going completely by memory.

If they failed, if he was caught, everything he had managed to build up in the past few months would be snuffed out in moments. The friend he came to rescue, Armen, one of two people in this damned city that he could truly count as a friend, would be dead. His mask would be torn off, exposing him for who he really was, and that meant he would not be far behind his friend. And Smudge... He did not want to consider her not getting away.

His fretting was interrupted by the tolling of the cathedral bells as they began the evening hymn. Their stately anthem resonated through the square, quieting the clamor of the crowd from a festive cacophony to an excited murmur. A hollow booming sounded as the heavy wooden doors to the hall of justice swung open, and Phillip felt his heart start to race as the procession filed out.

The lord Justice strode confidently at the head of the line, his robes of gleaming white, threaded with silver, shimmering in the setting sun. He was an older man, with a stern, careworn face, and a strong jaw that lent to his commanding presence. As he strode across the stage, the front ranks of the crowd fell silent.

Just behind and to either side of him marched two priests in white robes with deep hoods, each holding an arm of the terrified old man who nearly swooned between them. Armen's eyes darted about, seeking some way out of his hopeless situation, fear plain on his weather-beaten face. Phillip knew he'd feel the same way in his friend's place, but he'd be damned if he went down without a fight. He and Smudge were going to give Armen that chance... he hoped.

Behind Armen and his captors, came the object of his fear. Phillip felt his stomach tighten at the sight of the thing and took a steadying breath. He had held on to a slight sliver of hope that maybe, since Armen did not practice magic himself and only stood accused of trafficking magic items, they would not have resorted to the traditional form of execution for a mage. The church was ever a showman, however, and it was not going to be that easy.

The thing stood nearly half again the height of a man, made of skillfully and intricately forged metals, set with carefully chosen stones. Its shape was modeled off that of a man, with massive shoulders and powerful legs, but its awful purpose was made clear by what it had in place of arms. Past the elbow, both arms terminated in long, heavy, curving blades. This was the war golem of old, once protector of the church and its people, now become mage-bane and executioner.

Totally immune to magic, made from rare metals only the church knew how to forge, brutally strong and completely tireless, it was a near impossible foe. This was the first time Phillip laid eyes on one, though he'd read of them extensively. He'd known what to expect, but even so, when he saw the reality of the thing fear ran like ice through his veins.

He could only imagine the sheer terror the last mages must have felt, making their last stand in the university those hundreds of years ago, when the army of golems marched upon them. The historian in him couldn't help but speculate as to whether this one might have even been there. Phillip shuddered at the thought. Those were old mages, experienced mages, powerful mages, men who had shaped the world in their time, and they had fallen. What chance did he, inexperienced and self-taught, hardly worthy of being called mage, have against such a thing?

Behind the golem came the one this whole crazy plan hinged upon. Dressed in the black, cowled robes of his station came the golem's controller. He walked at a measured pace, in perfect time with the booming footsteps of the golem before him, his head bowed, hands hidden within the arms of his robes.

This man was both the strength and the weakness of the golem he controlled. He gave the thing reasoning, cunning, and adaptability. Yet, the histories told of times where the controller of the golem was slain or separated from it by too far of a distance. When this happened, the golem resorted to very simple reasoning and routines, weaknesses that could be exploited if one understood them. To Phillip, the most important of these was the one that made it protect its controller above all else. He hoped nothing had changed in these past two-hundred years, and that the stories were right.

As the hymn ended, the last chords still echoing through the square, the procession came to a stop near the edge of the stage. The lord Justice stood front and center and raised his arms to the crowd, his presence commanding silence and attention. As the crowd quieted, the two priests escorting Armen brought him to the raised platform in the center, coaxing him into a kneeling position with surprising gentleness. The golem and its controller took their places to the back of the platform, a silent and menacing backdrop to the scene.

The last murmurs of the vast crowd died away and the lord Justice raised his voice to call out the charges against Armen and give the obvious verdict. His voice rang clear and clarion across the square.

“This man, Armen of Albria, stands accused of crimes against the church, of deliberately seeking out and selling items of dark magic, failing in his duty to bring said items to the church for destruction, of knowingly harboring and consorting with magic users. I have seen the evidence with my own eyes. I have weighed it with an open mind. The council has prayed and we have received guidance. Of each count, Armen of Albria has been found guilty.”

The crowd let out a wild cheer at this and began decrying Armen, shouting for his death. Again, the lord Justice held up his hands and waited until the din receded. Phillip gripped his staff and took a deep breath, trying to steady his mind as fear and excitement warred within him.

“For his crimes, he is sentenced to death! Let this be a lesson to those who would practice the dark arts, or turn a blind eye to those who d– ”

Phillip vaulted onto the stage. Whether it was the exhilaration of the moment, or the little voice at the back of his mind, which told him this moment was one of those which would go down in the history books, Phillip felt compelled to take advantage of the hesitation brought on by the sheer shock that one would be so bold as to interrupt the proceedings. Instead of immediately pressing the attack, he held up his hands, much like the Justice had, and spoke.

“They say history is written by the victor,” he called out in the tones of an orator. “It would serve you all well to remember that notions such as law can also be rewritten to suit the needs of those in power. And remember also, that in time – perhaps sooner than you think – those laws may be forced to change again.”

He leveled his staff at the golem controller, his free hand motioning for the Justice to stay where he was.

“Sometimes, however, one just has to deal with the fact that they are the laws, and settle for flagrantly disregarding them. Now, if you would be so kind as to release him, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to continue my rudely interrupted consorting.”

As he leveled his staff, the spell was broken. No longer was he just a crazy old man who clambered up onto the stage and started spouting nonsense. He was now a threat. The lord Justice called to the guards keeping order in the crowd, even as the golem started moving toward Phillip.

Phillip began murmuring the words to his fool's lightning spell under his breath, making ready to release it at just the right moment.

There was the report of a crossbow from above, and the thud of a bolt hitting the golem controller. He clutched at his chest, looking confused as the blunted bolt clattered to the ground. Phillip's heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, he feared the enchantment did not work. Then, the black robed man swayed on his feet and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Phillip released his spell, pouring as much energy as he could into it. There was a blinding flash of light that filled the entire stage, followed by a deafening crack that resounded loud enough to make the bells above begin to hum. Everyone standing on the stage dove for the ground, momentarily blinded and stunned.

He swayed and leaned heavily on his staff as the spell ended, momentarily drained from the exertion. His body sang with the after effects of the spell, and he grinned almost drunkenly. He'd actually gotten to unleash a spell with no need to restrain it for fear of getting caught. For the briefest of seconds, he considered doing it again, to feel that thrill once more. He chided himself for being foolish. There was no time, and there was no guaranteeing he'd have the energy to walk off the stage, much less flee, if he poured that much into another spell.

The roar of the crowd echoed through the square. It had erupted into complete chaos at the sight of true magic, and the guard that had been rushing to the aid of the churchmen had been forced back by the sheer violence of it. The golem, however, was not stunned by the magic, but instead drawn by it. It turned toward Phillip, making ready to charge.

Another crack rang out, and this time the bolt shattered against the golem's head. It reached up a bladed arm like a shield and turned toward the building Smudge was situated on. A few seconds and another crack and thud of the bolt hitting the already unconscious form of the controller. Phillip took this moment to dash for his friend.

He grabbed Armen by the wrist and ran as fast as he could, pulling the stunned man with him. “No time to explain, Armen. Just follow me.” He dashed past the confused priests and off the stage, diving into the chaos.

He pushed under the stage and took a few seconds in the relative quiet to pull off his beard and robes. Beneath he was wearing normal street clothes, his rapier carefully bound to his back. He drew the sword and tossed Armen the robes. “Turn them inside out, they'll be blue instead of grey, and put them on. Good. Now pull the blasted hood up and keep it up. Do not stray from my side.”

Armen stood in the robes and gaped. “Phillip? You're a...”

“Yes, yes. I'm an evil Ubriag-cursed mage. Stop gaping and move!” He took the man's hood and pulled it up, shrouding his face in shadow. Grabbing Armen's arm, he pushed out from under the stage, brandishing his rapier and yelling curses for all he was worth. He hoped the chaos would give him enough cover to get out of there.

Glancing back, he saw the golem charging for the building Smudge was on top of. Then, the tiniest little flit of a shadow as she leaped from one building to the next. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was in his element, and she in hers. He could use his cunning to evade the authorities and make good to their meeting place, but there was no way he had the stamina to outpace a golem. Smudge however, did, and had the wit to keep ahead of it as well.

Their plan had worked! Thus far... Now they had but to get away.

shadowdream @ 2011-01-07T03:03:00

2011-01-07T08:03:45Z

Bwahahahaha! Writing. The story is a dramatic rescue. Pandora has a sense of humor.

On my nice, quiet, mellow station, which has lots of lute music, baroque, some occasional mellow trancy stuff, and the occasional theatrical score, comes.... The mission impossible theme. *giggles and facepalms* Second time it has done this to me.

shadowdream @ 2011-01-07T01:16:00

2011-01-07T06:16:06Z

Mind kicking me in the butt if I don't have at least part of my story done by tomorrow night?

I have the whole story playing in my mind like a movie. Perfect and clear. However... I am NOT good at sitting down and getting it out without the pressure of a deadline. heh.

Edit: Wrote some tonight. Egad. This is going to be long, but then, when are my stories not? Almost to a thousand words and I've really just set the scene and set up for the action. Action has yet to come, and I still need to fill in some info. Ahh well. All that matters is that I am satisfied with it, which I won't be if it doesn't have everything I want in it. If I don't make it to next week because it was too long and people didn't want to read, ahhh well. ;)

shadowdream @ 2010-12-19T00:36:00

2010-12-19T05:36:59Z

Well pooh. Paid account ran out today.. Doesn't look like they're doing that nice thing they did last year with the codes. Hrrrm. After Christmas I guess.

Edit: Grrr. didn't realize I couldn't pick which icons it kept. No huggles icon.. noooo!

shadowdream @ 2010-11-05T03:41:00

2010-11-05T07:40:33Z

Urgh. Guess what? It either wasn't the PSU... or the bad PSU caused more problems (like I figured it probably would).

New power supply in, and still getting blue screens (maybe even more often now). It would be nice if they were at least the SAME damn screen every time. Might be able to pinpoint the problem then. I think it is the motherboard. Specifically the memory controller. One of the slots will throw errors if there is RAM in it, so it is empty. So, the RAM is not exactly in the slots it wants to be in.

So, $50 more to buy a new mobo... Or I buy it piece by piece and put a new one together as I can. I can't really do both.

I'll take Newegg gift certificates if anyone wants to buy me a birthday present! ;P Joking... mostly. ;)

Money is still tight since going out east. Shadorn's mom broke her arm and so money is tight in the whole household. My credit card bill is staying steady, but it isn't going down as fast as I'd like. I owe around $850, which I know most people would "pfft" at... But when business is slow and you're only making around $500 a month, yeah, that doesn't get paid off fast.

Plus this lack of money to do much of anything besides pay bills and get to work is really stressing me out. It would be nice to do something fun once in a while without having to stress over it and feel guilty because the money should go towards bills. (Seriously. If I buy myself a $2 ice cream cone I stress because that money could go towards my prescriptions or the credit card.)

*curses profusely*

shadowdream @ 2010-11-04T03:06:00

2010-11-04T08:05:03Z

Late at night, when the house is silent,
But for the gentle snoring of my dog and my beloved,
When my whirling mind settles,
Calm in the cool blue glow of my monitor,
Ideas creep into my head,
On padded kitten feet,
They tackle each other and wrestle,
Batting at balls of brightly colored yarn,
Tangling up together to weave rich tapestries,
They beg to be put to words,
To flow from my fingers in a cacophonous clatter,
An almost primal drum of fingers on keys,
But the clock ticks, and time flows away,
The thought of curling up to my beloved,
Warm and soft, skin and satin and snores,
Pulls at me like the moon to the tides,
And, with some regret, I put the keyboard aside,
And crawl beneath the covers, with hopes to dream,
To court my muse, and grasp tightly,
These ephemeral inspirations,
Perhaps to pen them,
Tomorrow......

I WON!! :)

2010-11-03T23:10:29Z

YAY! I won the pumpkin carving contest on DDO! :) I'm so excited!!

www.ddo.com/news/1225-winners-announced-turbine-pumpkin-carving-contest-2010

It was this pumpkin.

Character workup

2010-10-24T19:32:51Z

The other night, I kept myself up until 7:30am with a little bit of inspiration. See, we have this character for the novel who we knew some of what he was going to do, and we knew his strengths and personality, but we only had vague notions of background. Well, it all fell together. There is something to be said for a long bath with a pot of tea for relaxing the mind.

Anyway, I really like it thus far, so I thought I'd share a little for those of you on the trusted filter. Comments are welcome and appreciated, but understand that this is a rough character sketch and has not been edited very much. This is not going to end up in the novel as it is, it is simply for my own mind (and Shadorns) to get a good firm hold on the character's background, personality, and such. I probably have another 5k words or so to go to really finish this. If there is interest, I will post it when it is done.

Oh, and a couple of the terms are kind of placeholders. Umbriag I like (or some form of it), but Celestars, though I like it, may get changed as we go. It is just a handy term for celestials until we can cement something that clicks.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is with excitement that I begin this journal. I believe I am striking out into new territory with this experiment in magic, and the implications make even this old and studious man giddy.

It began with a young boy. About 6 months ago the child, skittish and curious, began peering into our little village from the woods. He could have been no more than three years old, and was naked as the day he was born. He was thin, but not emaciated, with tanned skin covered in scrapes and scratches from the thick underbrush. Every day he would come shortly after the women began to stir the hearthfires and begin cooking breakfast, the smell of good food permeating the tiny town. Deep in the bushes he would crouch, dark, serious eyes peering into the village with curiosity.

Now, I moved to this tiny town of Meria, far into the Alerian wood, miles from any other town, to be sure I could study in peace. Meria is far from any civilization, and miles from any center of the church, or any of my colleagues. The people are quiet and close-knit, mostly woodcutters and the odd farmer (as much as you can farm in woods so thick that but an hours walk from town the light of midday is turned to dusk) or craftsman.

So, the arrival of this child was a curiosity to be sure. There was no other settlement he could be from, and the people of the town knew each other's business so closely, that they could certainly have matched his approximate age to a woman who had perhaps said she'd lost a child in childbirth. No one had any idea, however, where this child could have been from. He was different from the stock of these people as well. They tended toward pale skin and hair, and strong, stocky frames. He, however, was thin and lithe, angular of features, with dark eyes, and a mop of tangled black curls.

After a few days of watching, he became more bold, and would sneak up to windowsills to snatch the morning's baking that had been set out to cool. When the womenfolk figured out what had been going on, they began to leave him treats and watch for him. When they saw him, they'd talk to him in that gentle, sing-song voice that all women seem to use when they talk to young children. He would stay always out of arm's reach, but became more and more used to the mothering of the women.

I overheard them talking one morning, and decided I had to see the child for myself. I went out for a walk in the wood early one morning in the direction he often came from. Armed with a basket of pastries and a spell of calming in mind, I set up a little picnic and waited. I munched a pastry and murmured a spell that would carry its scent out a bit further than was normal.

Within a few minutes, the boy came up to my little clearing, and stood just outside the perimeter, looking at me with suspicion. His nostrils flared and he tilted his head back a little, like a dog smelling a strange scent. I called to him quietly and his muscles tensed as if to bolt. “Come boy. It is alright. I brought these for you. Be calm and unafraid.” I set a plate on the far edge of the blanket and then sat back across from it, leaning on my hands.

“Tene salren, tene branten.” I murmured, putting a whisper of my will into the spell; he was but a young boy.

The boy narrowed his eyes and let out what sounded like a quiet growl, backing away from the clearing slowly.

Shocked that the spell had no effect, that a wild urchin's mind would be strong enough to overcome it, I nearly shouted the spell again, pouring more energy into it.

The boy made a small sound and stopped his retreat. For a second, I thought he would overcome the spell again, but the fear in his eyes was gone. Indeed, he looked sleepy, and swayed on his feet.

“Come child, and eat.” I said, and he obeyed, his face trusting, his eyes serene.

I studied him as he sat there, confident that I had bound him long enough that I could examine him at my leisure. His feet were calloused and blackened with dirt. It looked as if he had never washed them. In fact, other than perhaps a dip in a stream, or the odd downpour, it looked and smelled as if the boy had never washed at all. His fingernails were ragged and dirty, and he was covered in scratches and bug bites. Most curiously, here and there on his body were thin white scars, what looked like bites and scratches. Oddly though, they didn't look deep.

I held a hand out to him and called him to me. Amazingly, even under the spell, he hesitated. The boy's mind was stronger than any apprentice I had ever known. Maybe stronger than some mages I have known. The spell won out in the end, however, and he came to me, slowly, cautiously, and sat before me. Gently I took his arm and whispered the Umbriag words of knowing and seeing.

What I saw was most fascinating. It seemed the scars had come from a tousle with a bear cub. What's more, it was all in play, the boy laughed and tackled the bear, growling and biting at its ear. In turn, it swiped at the boy and nipped at his arm. With no fur to protect him, the boy was injured, if slightly, but instead of backing off, he growled and bit the cub's ear again, drawing blood of his own. It nearly turned into a real fight, but the mother bear stepped in, licking both their wounds and pressing her body between them. With a couple of whining growls, they both nuzzled their mother, and settled in to drink from her teat.

My mind whirled with the implications. A child grown with no human influence. His mind so alien to ours. What would he do with magic?

Just then, he let out a small, scared whine, and pulled his arm back with a strength that completely caught me off guard. He looked at me with wild eyes, and dashed back into the wood, surprisingly agile for such a small child.

I left the basket of pastries, and went back home to ponder over the child.

It seemed that over the next month or two, he came more frequently to the village. The women collectively mothered him, and even had him wearing clothes (well, a pair of short breeches. They could never keep a shirt or shoes on him.) and speaking a combination of grunts, growls, whines, and human speech. Whenever I would come close, however, he would eye me suspiciously, and dash back into the wood if I tried to approach.

It continued this way for another year, he would come to the village a few times a week, allow the women to feed him and teach him, all the while wary and watchful, fleeing back into the wood as soon as he had his fill of food and mothering. I stayed at a distance, but made sure that my presence became a normal one, and after a while, he got used to me. I did not try to approach him, nor did I speak to him or try magic on him again. After a few months, his gaze was no longer suspicious, only cautious.

One afternoon, I watched him as he sat in the branches of a tree and called out in a perfect imitation of birdsong. The birds answered, and not long after, a flock was in the tree around him. He studied them with calm and patience that reminded me of a hunting cat. They hopped around him, fluttering from branch to branch, calling back to him in trilling song. He sat very still and watched them until, like the uncoiling of a serpent, he reached out and snatched the one who had lit just next to his perch. The rest of the birds exploded from the branches, crying in alarm, as he took the bird by the feet and deftly swung it, knocking it unconscious against the tree.

Grinning, he leapt out of the tree and ran to one of the women, brandishing his prize. “Mama Guery. I bring soup-bird! I catch you soup-bird! Make soup for me?”

The woman paled a little, and took the bird from him, looking it over with a wrinkled nose. “I'm not sure that is a good bird to eat, little one.”

“It good to eat. I know. I catched many of them. They taste ok. Maybe taste better in Mama Guery's soup?”

To her credit, the woman went inside with a sigh, and made the boy soup.

While he was waiting, sitting on the grass, drawing designs in the dirt path, I approached him and spoke to him for the first time since the clearing.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

He shrugged, not looking up from his drawing, but I had a sense that he was acutely aware of my presence. I stopped a little way from him and leaned against a tree, so as not to spook him.

“You know, people cannot speak the language of birds. Very few people can catch birds without nets, or traps, or bows and arrows.”

He shrugged again. “I am not people. I listen to birds. I hear them sing. I watch what they do when they sing. Then I sing. It is simple.”

“Yes, but people cannot do that. They cannot sing like a bird. We do not have the same voice. Sometimes we can sing alike enough that they might sing back, but they don't understand us.”

“I have bird-voice. I have people-voice. I have other voices. No one said I cannot. I do not care about cannot. I just do.”

I knew then that the idea that had been planted that year ago must be acted upon. Imagine, teaching magic to a child who has no idea of the limits, one with such a strong mind!

I had long harbored a theory that the only reason humans could not cast magic of both the Celestars and the Umbriags, was the fact that we doubted that we could. Magic requires a strong mind and a decisive will. We have long been told that not only do we not have a mind capable of learning and retaining both languages well enough to cast both forms of magic, but that the difference in ethos affected our minds such that going down one path destroyed our capacity for the other. Plus, those feeble-minded enough to put stock in church teachings, claimed that they came from different sides of the war of the gods, and that one side would not grant the power to cast their magic when you had the power of the other.

When I was a younger man, I learned the magic of the Celestars. I became quite strong, but reached a point where I felt I had come up to a wall. For some reason, those around me grew in power, as I stagnated. I researched and researched, even plead to the gods to show me past this block, to no avail.

When an apprentice of mine quickly surpassed me, I had had enough. I left the city in which I had lived, and wandered, following whatever leads I could find to seek out those who practiced a different art. The art of the Umbriag, taboo and shrouded in sinister mystery.

I found myself a master, and apprenticed under him for the next 15 years of my life. He too, told me that you could practice only one or the other. That I would have to forget all I had learned previously.

While that proved to be the case in the long run, at first, I was able to use my Celestar magic, even as I was learning the first phrases of the infernal language. It was feeble, and unpredictable, but my mind was doubtful and my will wavering. I did not believe I could do it, and that is why I failed.

This child had none of those teachings to hamper him. What's more, he possessed an incredibly strong mind, a will of stone, and a capacity for languages that had him understanding even birdsong (never mind the fact that he was now speaking nearly like an adult, only having begun to learn our language a year ago)!

There can be no doubt that my decision to teach him was the only logical one. I think we will find in the coming years, something amazing of the human mind and spirit that no one has even dreamt of.

It did not take me long before I was able to win the boy's trust, the incident in the wood seemingly long forgotten.

This winter came quickly, and harsh. The first snowstorm of the year tore at the town for three days straight, dumping snow to the windowsills of the small houses. The women fretted about the boy, and I agreed that he needed to be found and sheltered, and I volunteered to brave the storm and find him. The villagers were happy enough to allow me. I was not a central part of their lives, in that I mostly kept to myself and my studies, and I would not be missed in the spring planting if I did not return.

I made my way out of town, clad in thick furs, trudging in awkward snowshoes. As soon as I reached the perimeter of town, I pulled a spell-mantle around me, creating an invisible orb of force that protected me from the wind and snow. Snowflakes blew against it and melted with a hiss, droplets of water beading and being blown over the surface to fall behind me in little crystal spheres of ice.

I shouted, “Tena merak! Merake jinin,” (Be found! Find children!) into the howling wind, pouring all I could of my will into it and still have enough energy to hold my shield and make it home. I wished the women had come up with a name for him now. They all had just settled on calling him 'little one'. Without a proper name, the magic would not bind specifically to him, and I did not know enough words to describe him in enough detail to work without a name. I had to settle for finding the children in the area, knowing he would be the only one this far from the town.

A strong presence, that of the ten or so children from the village, pulled at my mind from behind. I pushed it aside and focused ahead. There, feebly, was the feeling of the boy, not far from where I stood.

I trudged forward for about five minutes, calling to him and hearing nothing in response but the hiss of snowflakes and the howl of the wind. The feeling became stronger, but fluttered, as I neared a mound of snow. Quickly I dug into the mound, knowing that flutter was that of his life, flickering like a candle in the wind. I found his foot and quickly pulled him up out of the snow. As he came into my orb, his eyelids fluttered and he looked up at me, drowsy, ice thick in his hair. A hint of a thankful smile came to his lips, and he went unconscious in my arms.

I bound the rest of my magic to warming the sphere, and took some of my furs off, bundling him in it. He needed the extra warmth, and between my old bones carrying him through the storm, and the warmth of my magic, I would make it home without losing any appendages.

That was but a month ago. The boy took only two weeks to recover fully. Surprisingly, at least to me, he no longer has shown fear around me. It seems that in rescuing him, and in caring for him when he was vulnerable, I have gained a measure of trust and respect.

He must have slipped in and out of consciousness as I was carrying him home, because as soon as he could speak, he thanked me for saving him and for the warm space. At first, I thought it was my home he spoke of, but then he asked questions about how I kept the snow out, and how I made it warm with no fire.

I showed him and explained it to him simply. His eyes lit up and he grinned broadly at the idea. I asked him if he would like to learn, and he eagerly agreed.

So it is that he is now my apprentice. I will continue to journal my findings and the astounding surprises that surround this little boy. I have high hopes for him. I think soon we will speak about naming. How interesting it will be, I think, to allow him to help choose his name.

shadowdream @ 2010-10-15T18:53:00

2010-10-15T22:52:51Z

Getting closer to posting pictures. I just pared 364 down to 169. I just need to do a little more paring, and some rotating and sizing and stuff before I post some. :) I'm REALLY happy with some of these. I may end up submitting them to a couple of kayaking magazines.

shadowdream @ 2010-10-13T15:18:00

2010-10-13T19:17:43Z

Back from camping as of late Monday. We had a lovely weekend! The weather was wonderful, warm in the days and cool and very clear at night. Very much a taste of indian summer. The foliage was fantastic, and the wildlife watching was great! At night, we laid in our tent and listened to the wind in the trees, the patter of falling leaves, the chorus of insects, and the hooting of the owls.

We ate lots of tasty food, from foil packets of veggies and steak tossed over the coals, to spaghetti and a nummy meat sauce, to wild blueberry pancakes, and veggie stew. There was stick bread (bread dough wrapped on a stick and cooked over the fire) and s'mores of course.

Popeye did great. The first day, he was mourning the loss of his couch, though. He would not lay down on the grass or dirt, and when he sat, he wouldn't quite touch his butt to the ground. We ended up hauling him up onto one of the camp chairs. He settled in eventually though and ended up laying in the dirt under the picnic tables with no concern. He did amazingly well around the campsite. I thought I'd have to keep him tied to a table leg all weekend, lest he run off, but he did a great job of sticking around his people. I just left the 10' leash on him and let him drag it, so if he did run off, he'd be easier to catch. I had to watch him like a hawk any time he got near the water though, he wanted to dive in so badly! I just didn't want a smelly dog covered in duckweed in my tent at night!

The only negative this weekend was the people! Usually this campsite is really secluded, and that is why we pick it. Most times we've seen a few people paddle by, or hike the trail behind the site and use the outhouse near the camp. That's not a problem. This weekend, it being most likely the last beautiful weekend of the fall, we had people hiking through our site all the time. They'd land their boats at one end, and hike up to the bathroom, without even hailing the camp and making sure it was ok (it would be, but it is nice to ask!!). We had one big group land, start to picnic on the edge of camp, and one lady even walked up to the picnic table next to my mom in law and start chattering. The last day, two fishermen walked down to the edge of the water, parked, and started fishing, without even asking if we minded. Then when they left, they left bait boxes behind. *rolls eyes* Next time, we won't camp on a weekend!

All in all though, it was a blast. :) Lots of pictures were taken, and I will post some choice ones soon. Shadorn and I found a NEAT old ruin just off the hiking path. We're not sure exactly what it was, maybe an old house, maybe a storage building, or farmhand quarters. All that is left is a foundation and some interesting artifacts. Oh, and the front stairs, which have a tree to either side where the door frame would have been. It was really interesting to explore, and I want to know more! I need to research owls as well. One night, a piercing shriek followed by maniacal owlish laughter woke us up out of a dead sleep. It was neat to listen to once my sleepy mind realized what it was, but it was definitely haunting!

What a great way to end the summer, and enjoy the beauty of fall!

shadowdream @ 2010-10-05T03:09:00

2010-10-05T07:08:40Z

So, any other BF'ers actually going to do the whole Pr0ntoberfest thing?

I'm so stumped for the prompt... Well, without doing superhero pr0n... Which could be funny, but no.

shadowdream @ 2010-09-11T17:40:00

2010-09-11T21:40:42Z

Mmmm. Breakfast today is about half a mango and a banana, frozen and made into a smoothie with some milk and the yogurt out of a fruit on the bottom peach yogurt cup (so semi-peach flavored yogurt but not the peaches themselves). YUMMY!

I'm undertaking something extremely time consuming, mind-numbng and annoying.... Namely, organizing my computer files. Now, before you think I'm crazy, there is a reason! :P About 13 years of accumulated 'stuff' is scattered across various hard drives. Whenever I replaced a drive, I'd shove things in random folders on the new one and move on. Now, I'm needing to do a reinstall of windows, and I'm realizing I really just need to clean all this junk up so I can FIND things easily, and so when I go to back things up I know I have everything.

So yeah, mind numbing. If you're bored too, find me on IM? Please? IM's listed in my profile, I think.

On another note.... I have some weird pandora stations. heh.

shadowdream @ 2010-09-07T04:07:00

2010-09-07T08:07:19Z

I had a fantastic evening last night. Friends came over late, and we gamed (D&D) until about 4am. :) Much fun was had by all. Shadorn told me that he didn't have anything all that epic planned, and we ended up taking on three pirate ships and a friggin blue dragon. Not epic, my ass! hehe. I will likely be writing that up for my BF entry this week (if I make time to write).

Tonight was one of those transcendent nights. It is absolutely gorgeous out! Shadorn and I went for a walk right around midnight, and savored it. The temperature is absolutely perfect, warm, but not hot, with a cool wind carrying with it portents of fall. It sprinkled on and off today, so the air smells of warm, moist earth, mixed with fruit from the vineyards, and the dusty smell of drying corn in the fields. It is the perfect melding of all the good things about August and October at once. The sky was swirled with streaks of high clouds, but was clear enough for the stars to shine through. As we walked the stretch of road near the corn field, we heard what we think was deer, slipping between the rows. As we walked back along the fields, a wind picked up, causing the dry leaves and husks to rustle and crackle like a hundred deer were about to burst from the field.

I could happily live somewhere that was around this temperature, maybe varying up or down about 10 degrees, all year. It is perfect. I adore these nights. Sitting here writing this, I hear the wind picking up even moreso. Perhaps tomorrow we'll go out to Lake Michigan after our training client and catch the sunset on the waves that have to be pounding. :) Maybe swim in the shallows if it isn't TOO rough or chilly. These are the times I love Michigan.

shadowdream @ 2010-09-04T17:55:00

2010-09-04T21:55:25Z

For those interested in just what is going on with the computer... Posted from my comments in the last post.

So, it started with RAM related blue screens... The first one was shutting down one night and it just hung on shut down. Then lots of irritation with blue screens on boot. (Off the top of my head, I don't have the number but it is a corrupted ntdll.dll... Well, it THINKS it is anyway. It also threw a corrupted Reg. error the other day, and then booted fine.)

So, I've run diagnostics on the RAM and found errors on one of the sticks. I put them in one by one to figure out which one. Then something distracted me away from the computer so I forgot which one. I started the process again, and anytime I put it in the first RAM slot the test just wouldn't start.. So I figured hrrrm.. Maybe it is that slot, and moved the RAM into the other slots. I will be re-running RAM diagnostics later today with the RAM in a different computer to figure out whether it is the RAM or the slot.

So, all along while playing DDO, (and really it's the only game I've been playing lately, so I don't know how it is doing in others, not that that matters SO much) I have been getting slowdowns like CRAZY. Until last night though, it always recovered. I figured it was update 6 because it started JUST after the update. Basically it would feel like it dropped to around 1fps and get jerky, and after a few seconds catch up. This time it did not. It hung about three seconds into one of those slowdowns. (sounds JUST like your problem, eh?) No blue screens though because it was a hang and not a stop.

Now, at first, I thought this was because the other day I had the vid card overheat because of an ID10T error. ;) When futzing around inside I had accidentally unplugged the fan. UGH. But as the night went on, that's when we started considering that it might be the power supply.

*ponders* What else... Oh, yeah, been having issues with the onboard sound, pre-video lockups. Put in an SBlive I had lying around and those seemed to fix.

Actually, update on this... It is, in fact, the first RAM slot that is giving me RAM errors. So, possibly motherboard rather than power supply... Or both. PSU problems causing motherboard problems.

Grrr. I just need a new freaking computer anyway. Maybe sometime in Nov. :/

shadowdream @ 2010-09-04T04:06:00

2010-09-04T08:06:46Z

Argh. Business needs to pick up. My computer is dying. :( Crashing over and over while I was playing DDO tonight.

I think it is either RAM, power supply, motherboard, or vid card, or a combo of the above. ERGH. Still paying off the trip to Maine. I cannot afford a new computer now.

More troubleshooting tomorrow. Hopefully it's an easy fix. *crosses fingers*

shadowdream @ 2010-09-03T14:10:00

2010-09-03T18:10:03Z

Since I seem to mostly be posting either my writing or frustrations lately, I figured I'd give a little rundown on life in general. This won't be as in-depth as I wanted it to be, since I have to run out the door in about 15 min, but it is a little something. :)

Life in general has actually been pretty good. I find that I've been writing less because life HAS been good, but it has been a busy kind of good. When I sit down to write, I just don't really have the ambition or words, so I just read everyone's posts and go play games. *chuckles*

This summer, in between the frustrations and pain, has been a good one. We have kayaked, went swimming numerous times, hiked and jogged, rode bikes, and just generally enjoyed. The time we have gained together by starting our own business has been wonderfully evident this summer. :)

Business has been alright. It has slowed quite a bit, but I think that is pretty normal for the summer. People are busy and generally feeling pretty good when the weather is nice. Shadorn has a personal training client, which is excellent. Hopefully this fall things will pick up. :)

I have been losing weight, which has me so excited! I've never been able to lose weight. I was always active and ate fairly well, but even if I was active and ate right I still gained weight. I found out a couple of years ago that I have hypothyroidism, big time. My dosage of thyroid meds was just raised a couple months ago and I am really shedding weight now. :) We have been active, and eating well, and since we started I've lost about 25lbs. 15 of that this summer! I can even jog a fairly long way now, and I have always HATED jogging.

There is more, but I need to run. I'll try to post a little more often with the good stuff! :)

Brigit's Flame - August Week 4 - Scrambled

2010-08-29T11:05:38Z

The next installment in the new steampunk-ish story brewing in my head. This is actually becoming a rather fun one to write. More to follow soon, I'm sure. I look forward to introducing the rest of the crew! I stopped here because... Well, it's almost 6:30am and I need to go to bed.. And I'm 1334 words in with many more to go. Heh... I just can't seem to write a SHORT, short story. Anyway, the first part, if you need to brush up, is here: http://shadowdream.livejournal.com/136865.html.

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Ellen turned in a circle, taking in the strange semi-circular room she had just stepped into. It looked to be the control room of the time machine (or Chronometrical Movement Apparatus, as Garret had called it). Graceful lamps lined the walls, each holding a slightly frosted glass tube which partially obscured a pair of small electrodes. Between the electrodes, a brilliant blue spark shimmered and danced. This discharge created a soft blue light, and a faint buzzing that underscored the other sounds of the room.

Elegant control panels, made of darkly stained wood, ran along the two curved side walls that held the portal she just stepped through. Every inch of each panel seemed to be covered in switches and buttons, bright brass levers and elegantly lettered chrome gauges. They chimed and beeped, clicked and whirred, some spitting out lengths of paper tape with figures typed upon it.

The center of the room held the most interesting sight of all. On a short pedestal stood a tall glass chamber containing an enormous crystal suspended in a clear liquid. The crystal slowly turned and bobbed ever so slightly in the liquid, rainbow light shimmering off its faceted surface.

Ellen strode across the room unthinkingly, drawn by the remarkable beauty in that giant vial. She reached out and placed her hand upon the glass, smiling at the soft, pulsing vibration she felt.

Behind her, Garret cleared his throat. Ellen jumped, her reverie broken, and turned to face him with eyes filled with awe.

“I'm sorry... It's just... This is fantastic! I can't believe it! A real time machine? Tell me all about it! What does this do?” Her words tumbled out over each other.

Garret grinned from ear to ear. “This ship is the fruit of many years of labor and experimentation. I call her the Whisper of Aeon. This is her first real voyage.” He ran his fingers lightly over the glass chamber, his face a mixture of pride and wonder.

“This crystal was mined from the dark continent. A colleague of mine found it on an expedition, actually. He told me that when the native miners found it, they closed off the mines and refused to work. Naturally, the company that owned the mines was outraged, and called my colleague in. He's a natural with the natives. Anyway, the natives had tunneled into an old cave system, and found this enshrined in there. The cave paintings surrounding it named it “breath of the creator” or perhaps, “song of the creator”, the translation is a little sketchy.

“Regardless, the natives refused to dig further into the chamber and disturb the artifact. My friend served as a liaison between them and the mining company, and in the end, they agreed to wall up the passage and continue around it. Of course, my friend, being the intelligent man he is, mapped the network of tunnels to a small cave a few miles off. After the natives were back to work, he slipped in the back way, secured this prize, and brought it to me for experimentation.

“The rest, my dear, is history,” he chuckled at his poor joke. “I found that the sound waves that resonated from this crystal seemed to create temporal distortions. Some extrapolation and experimentation later, and we have this wonder before you.”

“Amazing,” was all Ellen could manage in breathless reply. “But... You said you were aiming for 1600. How did you end up here? 2010 is a bit far off.”

Garret blushed and cleared his throat. “Well, you see...” He started. “There is a perfectly good...” He sighed. “Ok, well, I suppose the reason is twofold. Firstly - and this happenstance was entirely random and not my fault - we came upon an... irregularity. As I explained before, time travel is possible via the temporal distortions created by the resonation of sound waves from the crystal. We are able to affect the speed, distance, and direction by altering the tone of the resonation. Well, we were not very far into our maiden voyage, when a sudden reverberation shook the entire ship. It sounded like... like whale-song. The crystal picked up the reverberation, and suddenly we were wheeling through time forward instead of backward.

“There was nothing I could do to stop it. I'm, well,” he looked at the floor. “I'm completely tone deaf. I understand the properties of sound. Higher frequency of waves create a higher pitch and vice versa. However, I am lost to the nuances. It was all I could do to bring her to a stop!”

Ellen looked at him, her brow furrowed, “That is strange. But tell me, how did one who is tone-deaf fine tune this ship, and understand the tonal nuances to begin with?”

“I had an assistant, actually. A dear, dear friend of mine helped me through the experimentation process, and helped me fine tune the controls. Oh, he has a voice that could sing angels themselves to sleep! And he has the ear to match. The tiniest change in tone and he could compensate for it. He even was the one who suggested the use of these.”

Garret flipped open a door in the pedestal, and slid a tuning fork out of a padded drawer. “If you tap them against the glass and hold them there, the tone will resonate through the temporal medium and into the crystal.” He replaced the tuning fork and shut the door with a sigh.

“Last night, before our inaugural voyage, he told me that God had something else in mind for him, and that he could not accompany us. Being that he is a priest, I could not exactly argue with him, though I did worry for him, hearing voices and all. So, I took his book of notes and figured I would be alright on my own. Apparently, I was wrong.”

“May I see that book, please, Garret?” Ellen asked, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I might be able to help.”

Garret raised an eyebrow. “I thank you for the offer, miss, but I'm unsure how a young woman such as yourself might be able to assist in the sciences. I'm afraid the terminology might be a bit above you.”

She gave him a hard look. “I'll have you know, this young woman is currently in her third year at one of the more prestigious universities in the country. I may be studying music - which would be of a great help to you, I might add - but I do have an understanding of the fundamentals of science! Also, you can leave off the 'Miss' and call me Ellen.”

He blinked and handed her the book, looking a little astonished. “My apologies, Ellen! I had no idea that women of your time were so... emancipated! That is wonderful! Please, by all means, peruse away! If you, ah, have any questions, I will, ah, be happy to clarify... Not that you will need it!” he hastily added as she shot him a glare that could easily have melted steel.

No sooner had he handed her the book, than the ship suddenly lurched and dipped, nearly knocking Ellen from her feet. As Garret caught her, awkwardly trying to avoid touching all the bare skin her bikini left exposed, they both heard a deep, trilling, almost moaning sound that resonated through the entire ship. The crystal picked it up and began pulsating, playing the sound over and over, a soft glow forming at its core.

“Was that the whale-song from before?” Ellen asked in a shaking whisper.

Garret nodded, his eyes wide. “I'm sorry, mi... Ellen. I think you're stuck with us for the time being. Please! Help me bring this to a stop, somewhere! Then I think we need to go and inform the others. Something is wrong here.”

shadowdream @ 2010-08-29T02:56:00

2010-08-29T06:53:51Z

For those of you who write, and who enjoy world creation, I found a NIFTY piece of software I thought I'd share. thorarosebird, I had you in mind in particular. *grins* Though your hand drawn maps still blow me away!

The program is called AutoREALM, and is a free cartographer. Linkie here: http://autorealm.sourceforge.net/index.php

So far it looks fantastic! People have made some really neat maps with it. I'm looking forward to playing with it. Let me know what you think!!

shadowdream @ 2010-08-27T19:02:00

2010-08-27T23:00:54Z

So, I know what I'm going to write about for this week's BF, but I don't know where I'm going to take it... Hrrm.

I'm debating between two different ways to take the story. The first is a plain and simple steampunkish romp through history/future. Fairly straightforward characters and interesting takes on events in history.

The other is a little more... goofy? geeky? Same idea, a steampunkish romp through history/the future, but the characters would be more like... steampunk superheroes? Think like Hellboy or League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Maybe travelling through time righting wrongs, or battling baddies who are time travelling as well. Yeah, not a unique idea, and probably hard to pull off without being cliche and too goofy... But it's calling to me! heh.

What do you guys think?

shadowdream @ 2010-08-26T15:14:00

2010-08-26T19:14:35Z

Stolen from fox_bard,

I love your _____ (fill in the blank).

Repost (if you wish) in your journal and feel the love. :)

Perhaps a post of substance will follow soon. Honestly, life has been pretty good lately, and I have a lot to update on. I have just had little time to write, and every time I DO compose an entry, I'm away from the computer and the entry is gone by the time I get to staring at that darn blinking cursor. Anyway, I'm here, reading daily, life is good, writing ideas are flowing, that's all I can ask. :)