A Point of View

Musings

I'm not the kinda of girl who can put her deep thoughts into words, even if I have any, which is doubtful.

But...

 

 

And thus end my musings.

 

 

They Say It looks Like Him

 

Tom Hiddleston

Beautiful People Series-#3

Book: Dauntless

“Lochlan.”
“Loch’an..Loch’an?”
“Mhm. I guess that’ll do” -Lochlan and Kuaile

Name: Lochlan McConaughey
Age: about 23
Nationality: Scottish
Theme Song: N/A/First Time
Personality: Everything Lochlan does he does with a customary passion, never finishing until the job is done and over with. He has a wry sense of humor and loves to confuse Kuaile whenever he can. He doesn’t particularly care for people and would rather spend time with horses and the highlands. He is relatively tolerant and doesn’t lose his temper often, when he does, it’s more of a brooding volcano than explosion.  Lochlan isn’t as ambitious, after all, he never saw an from his family until adulthood, when Pellew offered to pay his way through the naval academy, as long as Lochlan agreed to serve on the Indefatigable after graduation. He’s honest, even when his remarks aren’t appreciated. But he likes to say exactly what he thinks, and doesn’t care whether anyone approves it or not. He tends to veil himself however, at any sort of chaotic emotion, and stashes it away for some moment he spends by himself. Has a air about him that people seem to like, he can be somewhat exasperating when he wants to, but in general is a very pleasing kind of person, maybe it’s his infectious laugh.
Likes: Confusing  Kuaile, horses, the highlands, history, William Wallace, rolling hills, absolute freedom, guns, Kauile.
Dislikes: Studies besides history, heights, organization,  cities, urgency, planning ahead, anything too do with dancing, cats.
Skills: Not too bad with a pair of revolvers, convincing people, playing the violin.
Non-Skills: Dancing, organizing his life, negotiating.

“-Pellew’s my Uncle, and I live here while studying at the London Academy.” -Lochlan

 

“I used to come here as a child. Some of my favorite memories are from here.”   

    “I’ll bet they are, you were quite the terror, Lochlan.”
    “Terror?”
    “It means I was an angel, Kuaile.”
    -Lochlan, Pellew, and Kuaile

Fears: N/A
Saddest moment: N/A
Proudest moment: N/A
Angriest moment: N/A

Some informamtion left blank due to the fact that the story is in the process of beeing written.

Crying

 Let's face it, every girl likes to cry...admit it, we do whether its deep down or not so deep down. Today, me and some friends, had the urge to finish something we once began but never finished, th estory died on our hands and I guess we feel guilty, old dear friends that never got endings, a story that never reached its peak or full maturity, although it was actually relatively long.

So today, we finished it, we gave all our characters endings, happy or sad, or in between, aand I'll keep updating this post until they're all written (we still have a few hopefully coming in). But I'm gonna give a few experts from them for your enjoyment. Some of these endings made us tear up, and I sort of hope you'll experience the same, although, you're not attached to these people the way we are, if you want to seee the whole of any of them, I think we'd all be happy to supply them for you.

    "You're bossy. But you've always been like that. You were such a ridiculous child, you remember that?"

     "Ah yes, I was so stupid. And you were a stubborn baby who I could never get the better of."

 She smiled, still unturning.

     "I was a rude little brat, I remember," she admitted. "I called you all those names..."

     "I deserved them. I thought I could own the world... but I could never own you. Never in that way..."

 A glance, out the corners of her eyes. Ah, but she was ever proud... He moved forward, smiling slightly.

     "You drove me crazy. I could never better you, I could never face you, I could never even hold a candle next to you... nothing has changed."

Her thick lashes dropped, concealing the bright green eyes. Still she did not speak, so he continued.

     "Nothing," he repeated. "I started loving you the day you threw me down on that platform after saving my ungrateful life, and you started yelling at me."

     "Oh Turon..."

     "Then I loved you when you roughed me up, when you called me names. I loved to see you dancing and playing. I loved to see you free and happy. I could never take you any other way, Karakin. If you love me, then you are free to accept this proposal of marriage, because I would never have you any other way."

 She turned now, her bright green eyes shining under a film of tears.

     "Turon... I loved you even when you were a stupid little boy. I love you now that you're a stupid big man. I am your own." -Karakin

________________________________________________________________________________

   

   Eriathwen began her silent retreat, not wanting to bother him, he looked so utterly tired, so dead to the world around him, but as she prepared to close the door behind her, she saw him turn, eyes reflecting the light. It was his scarred side that turned in her direction, the long marks looked paler than usual, but still stood out on his face, she wondered if he would ever heal entirely, not just the scars on the outside, she knew he could still remember Elveniel well.    

    “Come in, it’s fine.” He turned back to his lookout, Eriathwen smiled a little and entered, careful not to close the door fully behind her. Thirrest’s dim, blind eyes flicked in the direction of the sound, his jaw tightening, her heart skipped a beat as she stared at him, the freshly shaved face, its expression, more or less deadpan.

    “I’m sorry.” She murmured, stepping closer, and feeling the cool marble floor against her bare feet.

    He gave something like a laugh, and she came closer, remembering that this was the same man who had once helped her read and who had never truly opened his whole heart to her, not until recently. He reached out, searching for her, and she allowed him to take her hand, his rough calloused fingers rubbing along hers, but he still didn’t turn, his lips half-parted and his eyes continued to roam, he seemed to be thinking, until his voice came, hardly more than a whisper,

         “Do you see outside, Eriathwen?”

She started to nod, but then responded.

         “I do.” 

           “Tell me about it,” -Eriathwen

__________________________________________________________

   

     A messenger hurrying up with a slip of paper...a white dress... a child, running at her smiling...a man all in black...the white dress...the ring...

Some were memories, some the future, what might have happened, what never did...

      A clearing came into sight, with a waterfall gently splashing down roughly hewn rock. The feeling of excitement and love mounted, as Alcaniel touched the wedding dress carefully, smoothing it's folds. 

Through the mist, at the edge of a cliff that looked down into a valley of a dark, deep beauty, stood a rock. 

      The sky darkened, and thunder rumbled threateningly, but the girl took no heed, and hurried on. as Alcaniel approached the rocks, a tall figure came forward to greet her. Her steps slowed as she walked toward hi. He held out his hand. 

    "Thank you Turon, no, I will do this alone."

    "You said you wished me to be here."

    "I will need you. But this I wish to do alone."

Nodding respectfully, the man stepped aside.

Kneeling in the white dress, Alcaniel brushed the stone lightly with her rough hand.

    "It seems so long doesn't it, my love?"

Arranging the roses she brought, the girl squeezed her eyes shut tightly and touched the cool band, glittering with emeralds on her finger for strength.

Orcs...a messenger... words...knowing only a cold, numb feeling...standing alone in a white dress, utterly alone...

    "It's been a year Aran. Don't forget me. I'll never forget you." -Alcaniel

________________________________________________________

Stillness. Perfect stillness. It was the only way to describe the early morning. When the sun that shone over Rivendell had now  barely risen and a peaceful mist crept over the wooded valley. Fresh sunlight strayed in through the ornate white windows that surrounded Terelle's room. the beams were broken only by the branches from the malorn trees that stretched towards the sky, aspiring to touch the low yellow sun, peeking through the drifting clouds. Terelle’s bare feet dangled many feet above the tiled paths on the walkways below as she sat on the window sill, taking in the peaceful scene around her. No sound but the early wind sweeping though her hair and rippling the pale green dress which reached for her feet, stirring her now long, wispy blond hair, twirling it around her. So much had happened. So much had changed...

she closed her eyes, in pain at the memories. But smiled at the adventure they had. What an adventure it was... -Terrelle

The Rantings of an Over-Active Brain

And now that I have fallen off the face of this earth for a sufficient period of time, I'm back, and better than ever...could be at any rate. We'll find out :).

Too many plots.

Too many titles.

Just too blinkin' many. Writing is my ambition, to be an authoress and an artist someday. But in the meantime, my mind tends to run rampant with scenes, plots, characters. So many stories that I want to write and to get out of my head and they push and they regretfully pass into oblivion because i know that if I started very single story that I want to, I wouldn't haven't time to write in any of them. I have enough on my hands as it is, my google docs home is now organized and I can see just how many stories i have in my life, and not all of them incredibly interesting, yet I have to keep going because in these dual-written stories, the riggies, I've made a commitment,and up to a certain point, yes, that commitment can be dissolved, but once my characters have interactions with the characters of someone else, it's too late to turn back, and that's perhaps the hardest part.

There's the stories that I love, ones that I plan and think about on a regular basis and can't wait until I can write the scene I've thought up in great detail weeks ahead of time. Only to have it taken away from me, and I realize that I can't have everything I want ;), so the scene is thrown out and regretted that I spent as much time on it as I had only to have the idea erased. But life goes on despite the failures to write the scenes I want, and they're replaced by better, if not more epic ideas that include my co-writers much better.

 There's the scenes I plan, and change, and change, and change, and...yeah. Because after a while I get tired of one idea and try out another, like it better, and move on.

My endless characters, the ones I recycle, the ones I remember, even if I have to dig graves for them with my bare hands in the dust (R.I.P. Risa). But mostly I like to resurrect them and place them in a new story, a new world even, but they remain the same. 

Actually, the character Risa is due for a ressurection sometime soone as one of the riggies is ended, trying not to have too many going on at one time, but me and my co-writers miss that story terribly, and I must say that she seems to come back and haunt me, I feel bad about Risa's untimely death at such a young age, but her story had something like 20,000 words of it erased and we didn't feel like getting it back on its feet at the time as we had lost a lot of good writing. But after five months or so, we've recovered, and feel very much like continuing.

On top of all this. There's there's the half finished projects on my hands Iron Heart/Silver Call, Will to Live (which almost reached 50,000 words, but then Nanowrimo hit and I couldn't seem to pick it back up, I'm re-mixing this over the summer), The Reality which is at a pleasant 20206, but at the moment I'm in a slow chapter that keeps bouncing from perspective to perspective and may turn out to be rather short if I can't find soemthing interesting for my characters to do besides argue (which is, admittedly, what they do best), and my plans for Lighthawks, a candidate for Camp Nanowrimo, and Safe House, another candidate for CN. I am currently active in nine riggies out of some thirteen (some of which are dead or merely "resting their eyes" but still in existence) and one drop-out.

So, you could say that my writing is what runs my life, and my brain, keeps me going alongside the mugs of coffee that I just so happen to be addicted too. And without that, I leave you, goodbye, I'm off to bungle a math lesson.

 

   Monica's brain

Fantasy?

What is fantasy?

fantasy |ˈfantəsē|
noun ( pl. -sies)

A genre of imaginative fiction involving magic and adventure, esp. in a setting other than the real world.

 Dragons, magic, strange creatures, elves, dwarfs, goblins...all of these things are usually found in a fantasy setting. Fantasy now is original, filled with garbage, general cheeziness. Granted, not all fantasy novels are junk, but many are.

   So what's a girl to do?

    a) Actually retake the fantasy genre, I have no problem with writing dragons, they just have to be written properly. Personally, I think we can re-take it if there's an influx of Christian and Catholic writers who really love what they do.

b) A.R.M.

           Alternate-Reality Medieval is a fantasy setting, another world, magic may be present.Not as much stress put on the fantasy creatures such as elves or dwarfs. It isn't a very set genre yet, relatively new and very, very unknown. And when you think about it, and fantasy could really be considered an alternate-reality. The whole world could have been formed differently at creation. It's a sub-genre of fantasy that moves back towards the old typological aspect like Narnia and the epicness LOTR and away from the more mainstream books like Eragon. So A.R.M. could use some supporters out there, peeps. Let's retake the fantasy and make it a bit more epic, shall we?

Pass the word :)

 

 

 

Still Life

Done with marker and colored pencil.

Of Teddy Bears, Swords, and Superheroes :)

Good Times

 

"I've noticed that everyone who is for abortion has already been born."

-Ronald Reagan

I was gone for three days due to my Youth Group heading off to the March for Life on January 23rd, but am back almost full force, not quite though-schools finally started fro me and I'm going through a stage of drawing again where I want to perfect both comic and realism, so that will take up quite a bit of time.

Went to the Smithsonian over the weekend. And I tend to be very unsatisfied with most pictures I'm in, but compared to the others, this one's my favorite.

The boys "Tebowing"

The wonderful Miss R., our Youth Group leader. We love her so much!

 

My brother Alex in the upper left there.

Those scarves...

My brother's college leading the March, we were quite close to the front for part of the March, but never saw my brother :(.

 

So, that was my reason for lack of posting over the weekend, and quite a good reason too, I think, but there you have it.

 

Photo credit: Some of these are mine, but others were pulled off of the internet by my mom.

Possibly more pics to come, including Michael Jackson's fedora ;)