quatorz

Week 1 - Not a lot of progress

2017-02-09T03:46:40Z

I was crazy busy all week and the Super Bowl was on Sunday-and I keep letting the terrible situation in the entire world get me down.

But I came up with little tidbits: I have this amusing moment where Mike has to make his saving throw and its a high one (16). And in the game world they're like: "I don't think he's gonna make it." Cut to him rolling, then his character pops up. "I'm okay! I'm all right." And at the table he rolled a 16. Whew! So I think that will be a good funny moment.

The big arcs are going to be the challenge to all of this. I have to have them having a great time, feeling like its old times-but SHOWING how its not really old times. They just don't gel like they used to.

So quite a bit of work to do, but I'm excited about starting.

New Script for an Independent Film

2017-01-30T15:12:25Z

I'm posting it here first (mainly because no one will ever see this, haha). But I have the script I'm going to do for my indie feature. Its called 'The D&D CLub' and its going to be great.

Now I have to breakdown the story today. Pacing and character arcs are going to be important. Also i have to have them have a great time at the beginning (This is so awesome...'just like old times') and then gradually wane during the session. It isn't like old times. They haven't recaptured the magic.

But in the end its closure for everyone, so it will be good.

I may post updates on here because this is as close to private as I can get haha.

Good to be using Livejournal again!

Star Wars: Aeons - Chapter 2

2009-10-07T04:29:26Z

Title: Star Wars: Aeons - Chapter 2
A/N: This is an original novel that I wrote years ago set in the Star Wars universe. Aeons centers around an intrepid young girl-a general's daughter-who feels a strange connection to Yavin's moon, and to the people who-prior to their mysterious extinction-built the massive stone temples the Rebel Alliance calls home. Our heroine Aeon Quatorz (whose surname became my namesake) will discover more and more about those people, the Massassi, and may even learn the cause of their extinction. But at what risk to herself?
Disclaimer: The Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas, of course. But the characters (aside from a few cameos) and plot are mine.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1540
Continuity: Just after Episode IV.
Summary: It is mere days after the defeat of the Empire's secret weapon-the dreaded Death Star-at the hands of young Luke Skywalker. While the Rebel Alliance prepares to face its future, one among their number looks to the past...

Chapter 2

          Tiny numbers scrolled rapidly across the bottom of the display, ticking away the meters in increments of ten. Through the electronically recreated display, the far temple drew ever closer until it filled the viewer.
          She moved ever so slightly in order to make a complete reconnaissance of the area. At this magnification, a few degrees off axis equated to hundreds of yards. It was impossible to get a complete picture, as she had to search for gaps in the dense foliage.
          “There's one...” she murmured aloud to herself. She spotted a lone sentry making a lazy circuit around the temple. There was hardly ever just one guard, she reminded herself. On the flip side, though, what was he guarding? A haunted temple that no one wanted to enter? Maybe one guard was all that was needed.
          She lowered the binoculars, and the temple again became a small white building sticking out above the trees. The side of her mouth pulled down into a frown as she worked the details out in her mind.
          Over four hundred meters, the display had measured. Quite a hike, but they couldn't risk taking a transport. Too easy to spot.
          She inhaled deeply, drinking in the fresh air. There wasn't a sound, save for the rhythm of the jungle, and from her height, even that was dimmed. She watched a flock of birds flying over the surface of the trees. They were flying beneath her as they passed the temple.
          Aeon was perched on a parapet just under the apex of the main temple. From her vantage point, she could see for what seemed like hundreds of kilometers in all directions.
          She was alone for the moment, having sent the others on fact-finding missions to discover what they could about this haunted chamber. Those temples were as large on the inside as they appeared to be from the outside, and looking for one particular chamber wouldn't be very time efficient. Not while trying to avoid the guards as well. She hadn't yet, and had no intention, of informing her father.
          Where were the others? It had been a while since they split up. Aeon had sent Tam and Cammie to press upon Tam's pilot friends for information, and had sent Gates to question Lom Kavolo-a scientist and historian that Aeon often consulted. She would have gone herself, but she needed to think about the Infiltration.
          It was the curse of being a General's daughter that things were always labeled in military terms.
          She thought about her father, and what had been said at the meeting: the Alliance was evacuating the system.
          That was the news she dreaded. Just thinking about now it made her heart sink, but it was to be expected. If anything, the victory of just a few days ago had made it inevitable.
          Besides, they never stayed in any one place for very long.
          She surveyed the panorama of trees and jungle beneath her, following it to where it met the beautiful blue sky. She was already missing it here.
          Of all the worlds that she had seen and visited during the course of her lifetime, this was the first one that felt like home.
          Aeon's home world, for lack of a better term, was the star cruiser Ameil. She'd been born in space, and had spent as much of her life living on a starship as not. She loved space-she was fascinated by its uncharted depths-but she never felt like there was anywhere that she had come from, or where she belonged. She never felt like she had roots.
          Until now. What was it about Yavin IV in particular? She had no idea, but from the moment they arrived she felt this planet speaking to her, and she trusted it in a way that she never had anywhere else. She could let her guard down here, and feel completely safe.
          She looked off at the far temple again. If the rumors were true, there might be some element left by the Massassi-some trace of their civilization. The Massassi temples were, by and large, empty space to borrow for a fledgling army on the run. Little else had been found there.
          The name Massassi hadn't even come from any source on Yavin IV, but had been passed down by a race known as the Ralma. The Ralma had occupied a neighboring system, and thousands of years ago had compiled a detailed history of the worlds around them.
          Most of that history was lost to the ages-as were the Ralma themselves now, but brief fragments had been recovered and translated, and some of those fragments spoke of the indigenous people who once inhabited this moon. The Ralma called them the Massassi, but whether this was what they had called themselves, or a moniker the Ralma had bestowed upon them would never be known. Regardless, the name stuck.
          Scientifically, however, all the research of the Ralma could be discounted, as the Massassi had vanished long before the Ralma discovered space flight. As the Ralma source material was almost certainly lost forever, their chronicle could be dismissed as hearsay. The few facts they did have about the Massassi-even down to their name-could be the fiction of an alien mind that died thousands of years ago. Only one thing truly remained of the Massassi: the structures they left behind.
          The temple complexes were built in patterns, each one different from the others. Lom Kavolo theorized that they were laid out to match the alignment of the constellations in Yavin's night sky. He further surmised that it was that it was from these key stars that the Massassi marked events on their calendar such as the cycles of planting and harvesting.
          In recent months, however, Kavolo himself had deciphered more writings of the Ralma-writings he is convinced refer to the Massassi. These writings hint at traces of more advanced technology, discounting the theory that they were a simple agricultural based society.
          The temples had stood for thousands of years, but determining an exact date was difficult. For organic matter, it was simple to measure the breakdown of certain elements inherent to all life to determine its age. But stone had no organic matter.
          In the absence of historical records or any kind of markings, the most accurate way of dating the stone of the temples exterior was by measuring the erosion caused by precipitation.
          Of course, even that theory posed its own series of problems. There was evidence of a massive geological cataclysm ten thousand years previous that left the region a barren wasteland. It had been as dry there as on Tatooine, and it was only in the last two millennia that Yavin had regained its lush climate. Weather erosion on the temple dated back more than two thousand years, so that meant the temples had been standing since before the cataclysm. That made them at least ten thousand years old, if not older.
          The Massassi fascinated Aeon, as did all the extinct races. The very idea that an entire people's history, like the Ralma, could die out to the last person she found both compelling and frightening. For the Massassi, it was most likely the geological shift decimating their farmlands that led to their eventual extinction. Regardless of whether they had moved beyond the agricultural phase, the loss of their food source would have been devastating. But what caused the cataclysm? An orbital shift was possible, and an asteroid collision was always a likely candidate in these scenarios.
          Aeon had seen the devastation a rogue asteroid could have on a planet's ecosystem. Even an impact by a small object could change a planet's atmosphere entirely, making a once fertile paradise unlivable.
          But there wasn't any evidence of an asteroid collision. In fact, there wasn't much evidence of anything at all.
          It was the lack of remains that puzzled scientists. They had not found a single Massassi skeleton, not even a bone, in the entire time that they had been here. It wasn't just that the Massassi died out, it was more like they vanished completely.
          It frustrated her that more time wasn't spent on solving the mystery of the Massassi, but the members of the Rebellion had more pressing matters on their minds. Their goal on Yavin IV wasn't to learn about a dead race so much as to prevent becoming one.
          Aeon had always loved studying the past. She had wanted to be an historian, or a deep space pilot. She thought to herself that when the war was over, she would return to Yavin and uncover the secrets of the Massassi. She felt she owed it to them in some way. The Alliance would leave soon-and she would go with them-but she would definitely return. This, she realized then and there, was home. If not today, then tomorrow.
          They were all fighting for tomorrow. And if there were one-for her and the Alliance-then she would make hers here.
          It might take a few years, but Yavin IV had kept the secrets of the Massassi for ten thousand years. It would keep them for a few more.
          Wait for me, she smiled to herself. I'll be back.

Star Wars: Aeons - Chapter 1

2009-01-24T02:45:09Z

Title: Star Wars: Aeons - Chapter 1
A/N: This is an original novel that I wrote years ago set in the Star Wars universe. Aeons centers around an intrepid young girl-a general's daughter-who feels a strange connection to Yavin's moon, and to the people who-prior to their mysterious extinction-built the massive stone temples the Rebel Alliance calls home. Our heroine Aeon Quatorz (whose surname became my namesake) will discover more and more about those people, the Massassi, and may even learn the cause of their extinction. But at what risk to herself?
Disclaimer: The Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas, of course. But the characters (aside from a few cameos) and plot are mine.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3500ish.
Continuity: Just after Episode IV.
Summary: It is mere days after the defeat of the Empire's secret weapon-the dreaded Death Star-at the hands of young Luke Skywalker. While the Rebel Alliance prepares to face its future, one among their number looks to the past...

Chapter 1

          Life can be traced as a thread of interwoven cause and effect relationships ultimately leading up to one moment: this moment.
          All her life she had been raised on stories of heroism, of adventure-of exploration into the uncharted depths of the galaxy.
          Now, as she pulled herself along the cold, rough surface of the tunnel's steep incline, perhaps she exaggerated the danger to herself because she longed for a hero's existence.
          But she was an intelligent girl, intelligent enough to realize that she and her friends had escaped detection primarily because no one was actually looking.
          Growing up amid the Rebellion against the Empire, she was surrounded by men and women who fought what many considered to be a losing battle. They didn't have to use their imaginations to conjure up stories of heroism, but merely look amongst themselves.
          She was living in the midst of real heroes who battled every day against overwhelming odds, and never lost hope.
          She was living in the midst of someone else's heroic story.
          At least that's how it felt most of the time...
          “We're lost,” she heard whispered behind her. She didn't recognize the voice, so she knew immediately it was Gates Lighter. He was new to their circle, and she'd been hesitant about bringing him along from the start.
          “We're not lost,” another voice answered.
          Gates protested. “But, I think we should have turned--”
          “Aeon, are we lost?” the other voice asked her.
          “Nope,” she assured them.
          “But back there--”
          A girl's voice piped in from the darkness: “If she says we're not lost, we're not lost. Aeon doesn't get lost.”
          She smiled in spite of herself, but it was true. She could navigate the complex network of tunnels with her eyes closed, guided by some instinct that she didn't understand-yet had never failed her. Where she had developed this instinct she wasn't sure, but she never remembered having such an uncanny sense of direction before she came to this planet.
          Her fingers fell along a crack in the stone, and again she marveled at the architectural skill of the Massassi. The hairline fracture that ran across the corridor wasn't a flaw in the masonry, but a seam separating adjacent blocks. They had been cut and laid with such precision that a leaf of paper couldn't slip between them.
          The floor of the tunnel was worn and just slightly uneven, the state of the stone's surface as it had been quarried thousands of years ago. The labyrinth of tunnels that honeycombed through the temple had not been hewn out of the rock, but instead incorporated into the original design of the structure as it was built around them.
          She continued along quickly, challenging the others to keep up.
          She covered her hands with her sleeves, and tried to keep warm despite the chill radiating from the walls of the tunnel. Even in the heated chambers of the ancient temple, the stone was always cold. It had been that way for centuries, perhaps millennia.
          Aeon hated the cold, preferring the warm environment of Yavin that most others found so disagreeable. It didn't help matters that she was outfitted for the humid clime of the planet's midday, not the arid subterranean interior of this mountain of stone.
          Admittedly, there was no one to blame for that but herself. It was simply a matter of poor planning on her part, and poor planning-as her father was all too fond of saying-led to poor execution. It was one of his favorite axioms, and in this instance it was totally justified. Despite whatever promises she may have given him to the contrary, she had planned this little reconnaissance mission all along.
          She spied a metal grate on the floor ahead of them-that was their destination. Ambient light from the chamber below diffused into their narrow shaft. “Keep quiet,” she whispered into the darkness behind her.
          In the chamber below them, the Alliance leaders had convened to plan for what appeared to be a very bright future. She approached the grate quietly, and they positioned themselves around it.
          “Let's begin,” her father said, and the leaders of the Rebel Alliance gathered around the long table. The echo of their chairs scraping along the stone floor resonated throughout the vacuous chamber.
          The entire population of the Alliance notwithstanding, the temples still seemed vast and empty. Save for these huge stone edifices, virtually no trace remained of the civilization that had once flourished here.
          The lush landscape of the forth moon of Yavin was dotted with complexes of massive stone pyramids, once the habitat of a long dead race known as the Massassi. It was in one of these temple clusters that the Rebel Alliance had made its headquarters.
          It had been just days since the Alliance scored its first decisive victory over the Empire: the destruction of the Death Star, a massive space station with the capability to destroy a planet.
          This victory over the ultimate symbol of the Empire's overwhelming might lent instant credibility to the fledgling Rebellion. The number of allied worlds doubled nearly over night, and twice that number pledged-albeit in secret-the vital financial and military support that would keep the battle going.
          The Alliance had never been stronger, and yet the mood on Yavin IV was shifting quickly as the euphoria of the last few days gave way to apprehension.
          The Empire was far from finished. It could take years-even decades-to vanquish the Emperor. And despite their outward confidence, all within the Alliance knew that it might never happen at all.
          Those who gathered in the makeshift war room knew that it was possible to win the battle and still lose the war.
          Below, her father deferred to an older man standing at the head of the table. With his white hair and beard the man looked more like a benevolent grandfather than a master tactician. But that he was-and more. He was a key figure in the formation of the Rebellion, and its operational leader. In the hierarchy of the Alliance, he was second only to Mon Mothma.
          With a nod, General Jan Dodonna accepted the floor. “Thank you, General,” he said, and began the briefing.
          Aeon Quatorz smiled upon hearing her father addressed as 'General'. She couldn't help it.
          Aeon had also decided to attend the Alliance briefing-albeit in secret-and hers was one of four sets of prying eyes that jockeyed for position around the small grate. They were cramped into a small shaft that ran over the length of the chamber, giving them a spectacular vantage for spying.
          She craned her neck to see who all was there. Her Father, Revel Quatorz, was seated just to the left of General Dodonna. She couldn't make out who was at the opposite end of the table.
          The muscles in her jaw quivered involuntarily, a physiological reaction to her body's falling temperature. She clamped her mouth shut tight, preventing her teeth from chattering, and held firm against her trembling jaw.
          Instinctively, she understood that she shouldn't show weakness in front of the others. It wasn't becoming of a leader.
          She also understood that, like it or not, she had acquired that instinct from her father.
          She studied him as he listened to the briefing. His mouth was pressed thin, pulled downward at the corners into a slight frown. Two heavy lines creased between his furrowed brow. He appeared to be in extreme concentration.
          He indeed may have been, but his expression was of little indication. He always looked that way, it seemed. That was the expression he wore when Aeon asked to sit in on the briefing as a quiet observer. He forbade it-of course. She knew he would, but considered it a matter of protocol to at least ask. That was the system that seemed to work best for them: she asked, he said 'no', she did it anyway, he expressed his disapproval. Repeat as necessary.
          Aeon tried to think back to when she saw her father happy-genuinely happy. As she conjured up the memories of those occasions, she realized that she was seeing them through the eyes of a little girl.
          It's been years, she thought to herself. Years. Why, she hadn't even seem his smile since--
          Since before Mom got sick...
          She heard a whispered “Ow!” and looked up to see Cammie and Tam rubbing the sides of their heads. Cammie stifled a giggle, but her occasional bursts of laughter were echoing the length of the tunnel.
          Aeon shot her a look that in no uncertain terms meant to be quiet. If her father found them after he had specifically forbade her to come, he'd make her wish the Death Star had succeeded in destroying the planet.
          “Guys!” Aeon growled at them. Cammie wilted beneath her stare, and stopped laughing. She grinned sheepishly at Aeon.
          Cammie glanced over at Tam, and looked away quickly when he met her gaze. She was smiling nervously. Lately, she'd been acting strange when Tam was around, and Aeon couldn't figure out why.
          Tam looked at Aeon, and mouthed the word: “Sorry.” He rubbed the spot where Cammie had collided with him, tousling his brown hair.
          Tam Formossa was fifteen (going on sixteen! he'd be quick to interject) and the first lasting friend she'd made in the Alliance. They'd met when her father's ships joined the rest of the fleet on Dantooine, and had been close ever since. He had thick brown hair, and radiant brown eyes that expressed his kind-hearted nature. He was actually quite handsome when she cared to notice-which wasn't very often.
          The great thing about hanging around Tam was that, being a boy, the pilots and soldiers had a natural tendency to show him things. That was how knowledge was passed down in the Rebellion. It was like apprenticing in a trade guild, and that was how many of the current pilots had begun their training.
          Tam had already used a blaster, and had been for a ride in a Y-wing fighter. Of course, she made him teach her everything he learned. The two of them would sneak down to the target range regularly, and Aeon prided herself in the fact that she wasn't half-bad with a blaster rifle. She hadn't finagled a ride in a fighter yet, but she was working on it.
          Tam loved it, but his enthusiasm fightened her. Growing up, the pilots had always seemed so much older to her. But they weren't: most of them had only a year or two on Aeon, and the youngest pilot was less than six months her senior. Soon Tam would be of fighting age, and there was always a need for fresh pilots in the Rebellion. Sometimes--
          Sometimes there were more fighters than pilots...
          She shook her head to shake off her maudlin thoughts. She didn't want think about that now.
          “Aeon, I can't see,” Cammie whispered. She gestured to Gates, who was stretched out over the grate, blocking Cammie's view. Aeon didn't really know Gates all that well. He seemed nice enough, but he was very quiet. He hardly said anything when he hung out with them, and Aeon had a tendency to forget about him. But he was Tam's friend, and Tam had vouched for him, so that made him okay. “Aeon, tell him to move over!”
          “But I think I see--” Gates began to protest.
          “Move over so Cammie can see,” Aeon interrupted him. “And keep quiet-they'll hear!” Gates obliged, frowning, and Cammie smiled at Aeon in thanks.
          Cammie Shosa was a true orphan of the rebellion. Both her parents had died because of the Empire. Aeon wasn't really sure what the particulars were, and Cammie didn't talk about it-much. From what she could gather, it was the death of Cammie's mother that prompted her father to join the Rebellion. Then he died too.
          Cammie caught Aeon staring at her, and met her with a puzzled expression. Aeon just smiled. Once reassured that everything was all right, Cammie returned her attention to the briefing.
          Cammie looked up to her. They all did.
          She was their leader, and not simply because of age, but by nature. Though it was easy telling kids what to do. Getting adults to listen to her was another story. And one adult in particular...
          She glanced involuntarily at her father. At 17, she was the oldest of their group, and-although she didn't feel like a child-she was still treated as such. One thing Aeon had learned-that her father didn't seem to understand-is that the children of the Rebellion often had to grow up too quickly.
          The advantage of being a child was that these temples still had secrets to be revealed for those who took the time to look. Their shaft was one of a network of tunnels that ran throughout the temples. The tunnels gave them almost unlimited access, and the adults either didn't know or didn't care about their existence. What other secrets lurked within these walls?
          She returned her attention to the meeting below. The officers were discussing the positions of the Imperial Fleet. From what Aeon could gather, none of the Imperial ships were headed this way. That sounded like good news, but for some reason it had them worried.
          “Perhaps,” a voice suggested, “the destruction of the Death Star dealt them a more serious blow than we thought?”
          “Or perhaps they've finally started to take us seriously,” chimed a second opinion.
          “We can't assume that,” a strong female voice asserted.
          “I think Leia's right,” a young man's voice piped in. It was a familiar to all of them. Although speaking boldly, the speaker was tentative-sounding unsure of whether or not he really belonged there.
          “Is that him?” Gates wondered aloud. “It is! It's Luke!”
          “Luke?” Aeon bubbled excitedly. “Where!?” She shoved Cammie and Gates out of the way to get the angle. She looked down, and--
          And there he was. Aeon's heart fluttered as she memorized the details of his person. He had sandy blonde hair, and wore a yellow jacket over a black shirt. She recognized the outfit-it was the one he had worn to the award ceremony after he single handedly destroyed the Death Star. Well, him and that 'pirate' person-Solo, something. She had been at the ceremony, of course. Everyone had been there to greet the new heroes of the rebellion.
          Aeon stared at him as he spoke, only dimly aware that he was saying anything at all. He was so handsome with his bright blue eyes, youthful smile, and that little dimple in his chin.
          Her eyes caught sight of the silver cylinder dangling from his belt. In her capacity as an invisible person in her father's circle, she overheard some of the Generals talking about it. It was called a lightsabre. There weren't many around anymore. They had been the weapons of the Jedi Knights, but no one had seen one of them-or their weapons-since before Aeon was born.
          The rumor around base was that Luke could be a Jedi Knight. The problem was that no one knew for sure-not even Luke himself from the impression Aeon received.
          It was the speculation that fueled the fire, and everybody was talking about him. How powerful was he? Was he a Jedi Knight now, or would he have to train further? And where would he go? The Jedi didn't even exist anymore.
          She smiled dreamily as she stared at him, contemplating his future. More important and pressing than his status as a Jedi Knight, Aeon wondered: did he have a girlfriend?
          Aeon Skywalker. It had a nice ring to it.
          Aeon focused on the figure in white sitting beside Luke. As much as she was enamored of Luke, it was Princess Leia whom Aeon really admired. Look at her, Aeon thought. Only a few years separated them, and yet they seemed worlds apart. She was considered an adult, and Aeon wondered what she had to do differently to achieve that status. The Princess was a member of the ruling body of the Rebel Alliance, giving and receiving counsel from men like her father. Before being discovered, she had been a member of the Imperial Senate-the youngest ever.
          Aeon looked down at Leia and saw the person she wanted to be. Inside she shrank a little, suddenly very aware that she'd been reduced to watching them from a secret tunnel. Would she be a spectator forever?
          “I'm confident that Yavin is secure,” she overheard her father say. “Our scout ships have detailed reports on all Imperial movement, and not one fleet on this side of the galaxy has even started gearing up for activity.
          “I think losing the Death Star rattled them even more than we expected. The resources they lost--”
          “I disagree, General,” Princess Leia interrupted. Aeon perked up immediately. This could get ugly. “The Empire-as vast as it is-can't be everywhere. Their power is built upon terror-upon the continuous presence of fear. If they lose that, they lose much more than just the physical resources that constructed the Death Star.
          “The Empire has to strike swiftly and decisively, if for no other reason than to save face. And don't forget, gentlemen, they managed to get the Death Star over eighty percent complete before we even found out about it. If they can construct that monstrosity in secret, they can launch a counter offensive.
          “The Rebellion existed as long as it did because we never took chances. If we become overconfident now, after a few victories, I fear we won't last very long as an Alliance.
          “We have to assume that our defense has been breached, and start immediate evac.”
          Wow, Aeon thought to herself. But what would her father say? If he stayed consistent, he would sigh, and possibly rub his chin for a second while he pondered the right phraseology. Then he would begin: “Aeon...” or in this case, “Princess Leia...” and then he would continue on and gently explain to the Princess that she was a) wrong, and b) just a girl.
          “She's right,” her father nodded. “For us to begin making assumptions now would be foolhardy. Playing it safe has gotten us this far. To change now would be foolhardy.” The other Rebel leaders murmured their assent.
          Aeon just stared.
          “Wow,” Tam said quietly. “Why doesn't he ever listen to--?”
          “Tam!” Cammie smacked him on the arm, and shot him a 'look'.
          Aeon didn't say anything. She couldn't tear her eyes from Princess Leia. She's only a couple of years older than me, Aeon protested to herself. Why...? she began to ask herself, and stopped.
          She looked down at the Princess, standing at the table in her perfectly while gown, and her porcelain smooth skin. Her chin was elevated ever so slightly. She knew who she was, and she simply radiated just standing there, demanding the attention of everyone at the table. They couldn't help but be captivated by her.
          It wasn't the years, she realized.
          It was as plain as the stone lying beneath her hands, and beneath the temple itself. Having the same point of origin, a precious few were gems: beautiful, radiant, flawless jewels. The vast majority was chunks of solid rock, like the millions of anonymous blocks that made up the Massassi temples. Every one the same as the others. None considered special.
          Her eyes stung, and her vision became misty. Its just a matter of knowing your place, Aeon thought.
          “Its okay,” Cammie said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. No, it wasn't, she wanted to reply. But she couldn't explain that to Cammie.
          “Let's get out of here,” she said. The others nodded, and started shuffling back. Aeon blinked back tears. She hoped the others didn't notice.
          An offhand remark from down below caught her attention: “I for one will be glad to leave this world. You don't know what it's like in that far temple. I swear its haunted.”
          Aeon paused. “Hold on,” she called out. Beneath them, the Generals laughed. Aeon couldn't see who'd made the remark, but she didn't really care.
          “It's that Crystal Chamber,” another General chimed in. “My lieutenants complain that they can't get the men to patrol down there. They're all afraid.” There was more light laughter from the group. “I'm serious,” the General said. “They dare each other to spend the night in the haunted chamber.”
          Haunted chamber? Aeon smiled at the others in the group. She could feel her enthusiasm rising again, and could tell by the look of anticipation on their faces that they were thinking the exact same thing. They knew what their next stop was. If there were two words that could lift Aeon's spirits, those words were 'Luke Skywalker'.
          But close seconds were 'haunted chamber'.

Beware 'The Happening'.

2008-12-26T17:22:54Z

This is really more of a public service announcement. But if you haven't seen the movie 'The Happening', by all means avoid it at all costs!

As a disclaimer, I am a huge fan of M. Night Shyamalan's films (although I had yet to watch 'Lady in the Water'. I have it-still wrapped in the plastic-but haven't opened it yet). I loved 'Unbreakable' and 'Signs', and-even though I saw the ending coming-Bryce Dallas Howards's performance and character in 'The Village', and the chemistry between her and Joachim Phoenix made that film enjoyable.

So I saw 'The Happening' on opening day. Never mind that I hadn't gotten around to seeing Iron Man (which I didn't know Leslie Bibb was in, otherwise it wouldn't have been a contest), or that The Hulk started on the same day. I mean, Hulk may not be high art, but you know what you're getting, you know?

Well, The Happening just sucked. The characters were lame, and unsympathetic. Mark Wahlberg was playing the role with the range of Keanu Reeves. And the film's message was about as subtle as someone slapping you upside the head with a dead fish.

Oh, and the climax: the 'big threat' just...ends. The main character goes outside and...doesn't die. What does he do that the other characters didn't do? Nothing. He just doesn't die because the thing that began mysterioulsy under dubious circumstances has decided to stop. Riveting!!!

I don't know if I can save anyone else the money on the rental-and more importantly the two hours of your life you can't get back. But if I can help just one person, it'll be worth it.

My Favorite Commercial

2008-12-07T19:51:31Z

This is part of a series that Snickers did based around the theme of Snickers being a feast. It featured five characters either dressed as people from different time periods or perhaps because of some strange time phenomenon are actually from different time periods. Wisely, they don't make the distinction, and humor ensues. There are several different ones such as getting gas at the gas station and having their candy bars stolen by Robin Hood. But this is my favorite:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jS2XLI8U9aw

Enjoy 'Greensleeves'.

A Short Ficlet

2008-12-01T10:59:32Z

Title: Imagine Sam & Brooke
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Ryan Murphy, but as carpesomediem said quite wisely: if he hasn’t come after us yet, he’s probably not gonna. The scenes from the movie they are watching are not mine either, and are used without permission (but I suspected you knew that)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 810-ish. It was 793 when I formatted the HTML, but then I made some changes
A/N: This is just a quick one that I hope you get a kick out of.
Prompt: A conversation with splendid_it about tragedy and angst in our fanfic. And-if you haven’t checked out their site, definitely do. The artwork is killer. If you have high blood pressure, avoid the kama sutra pic.
Damn, I’ve lost you now, haven’t I? Well, if you come back and read this, enjoy.
Continuity: This really isn’t in any possible universe because I’ve torn asunder the very fabric of time and space. In the S&B continuity that I’ve developed for my stuff this would be set in October/November of 2001. The movie ‘Imagine Me & You’ didn’t actually come out until 2005.
A/N: Does anyone else have a hard time remembering how different things were in 2001? I had a line where Brooke points out that the family room was the only room in the house with a DVD player, but when I researched the timeline for DVD penetration I wasn’t sure if that would have been the case. I’ve got, like, ten things in the house that can play a DVD now, but when did the transition occur? I dropped the line anyway, just to be safe.
Formatting Woes: I went to post this last night, using the exact same formatting that I used on ‘Self Fulfilling Prophecy’ and it came out all wrong. Ah, the harsh mistress that is HTML.
Summary: Sam and Brooke watch a movie together.

Imagine Sam & Brooke

          Cold blue light painted Sam’s pale skin, giving her an ethereal glow. She sat alone, absorbed in her movie and absentmindedly shoveling handfuls of popcorn into her mouth. It was late, and the Palace was deserted. Jane and Mike had taken Mac on a weekend getaway, and Brooke was out doing something with her friends.
          Or so she thought.
          “Whatcha watching?” Brooke asked.
          Sam jumped, gasped, and subsequently choked on her popcorn. Brooke rushed over and pounded her on the back.
          “Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She let up her assault as the coughing fit abated. “Are you all right?”
          Sam took a swig of her soda and nodded through teary eyes. She managed to swallow the rest of her popcorn. “I thought you were going over to Nicole’s?” she asked in a raspy voice.
          Brooke shrugged. “I didn’t feel like dealing with them tonight. I figured I’d come home and see if you wanted to hang out.”
          A smile pulled at the corner of Sam’s mouth. “Really?” she asked quietly. She shook herself out of a daze. “Sure, let me just turn off the--”
          “No, a movie’s good. Perfect in fact,” Brooke affirmed, and walked over to the sofa. “Fill me in. Did--
          “Hey, that’s the girl from Coyote Ugly!” Brooke realized.
          “Piper Perabo. Yeah,” Sam acknowledged.
          Brooke sat down on the sofa beside her. Of course, Sam noted. They’d just gotten the new living room furniture: sofa, loveseat, and-the piece de resistance-Mike’s new chair.
          Mike had wanted to have a comfy piece of furniture just for him, and Jane had been accommodating as long as it could fit into the décor-and not a purple Lay-Z-Boy emblazoned with the Lakers logo.
          It was sad, really, that to get one chair, Mike actually had to agree to purchase an entirely new living room suit. But once they started shopping, Mike had been more excited than the rest of them. “The salesman said that it will conform to fit me, like...” he snapped his fingers. “What are those shoes?”
          “Birkenstocks,” Sam had supplied instantly, and then mentally slapped herself. Nice Sam. Be a little more obvious, why don’t you? How about waving a rainbow flag like an extra from Les Miser-fuckin’-able?
          Fortunately, no one seemed to notice, and she was relieved that she hadn’t ‘outed’ herself accidentally.
          Only the bowl of popcorn sat between them, and Brooke grabbed a handful. She smiled in appreciation. “Yum,” she said.
          Sam laughed at the visual of Brooke’s cheeks puffed out with popcorn.
          “What’d I miss?” Brooke asked, sending small fragments of popcorn airborne. She put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she grinned.
          “Um,” Sam began, “Piper Perabo’s character meets the person of her dreams at her own wedding.”
          “Oh shit!” Brooke laughed through a mouthful of popcorn. “Did she still get married?”
          “Yeah. She doesn’t realize how strong of a connection they have until she gets to know her better.”
           “Her?” Brooke raised an eyebrow.
          “Um, yeah,” Sam blushed. She cleared her throat. “She discovers she’s fallen in love with another woman.”
           The hum of the Palace’s air conditioner was suddenly deafening. “Oh,” Brooke replied.
          “Yeah.” Sam agreed. She swallowed nervously.
          Brooke turned her attention to the movie.
          On screen Piper Perabo and Lena Headey were watching a child’s report on the planets. As shadows fell across them in the darkened room, their hands tentatively reached out and connected. Unable to resist, Piper Perabo turned to the object of her desire. Their eyes met. Tentative touches grew more confident, bolder, until--
          A sudden change of lighting and the applauding classroom clued them in that it was just a fantasy sequence-a figment of one of the character’s imaginations. But which one?
          “Is-Is this making you uncomfortable?” Sam asked. “We can watch something--”
          “No, it’s okay.” Brooke answered. “I’m not uncomfortable. Is it making you...?”
          “No,” Sam laughed nervously. “I picked the movie, didn’t I?”
          Their eyes met, but neither one followed up on that thread.
          A few minutes later, Piper Perabo stormed into a flower shop and demanded that whatever was blossoming between her Lena Headey’s character had to stop. Leaving a reeling Headey to wonder when everything had gone so horribly wrong, Perabo burst back through the door a second later and gave into her desire, smothering the other girl in a smoldering kiss.
          Sam’s hand had stopped in mid-motion above the popcorn bowl, mesmerized by the passionate moment on-screen. Brooke absently reached for some popcorn and their fingers connected briefly.
          Sam withdrew her hand quickly. She offered the blonde a mumbled “Sorry” and an awkward smile.
          They stared longer than was polite.
          “What’s this movie called?” Brooke asked, her voice husky.
          “Um,” Sam stammered, and cleared her throat. ‘Um’ had come out about three octaves too high. “I-Imagine Me & You.”
          The muscles in Brooke’s throat worked reflexively as she swallowed. “Imagine...me and you?”
          Sam nodded. “Imagine Me & You,” she confirmed.
          “Oh.”
          And the three of them watched the rest of the movie in relative silence: Sam, Brooke, and the
          Large
          White
          Elephant
          sitting in Mike’s brand new chair.

Experimenting with formatting

2008-11-27T21:39:40Z

Title: Aeons, chapter 1
Prompt: None
Rating: G
Word Count: 869
Disclaimer: No disclaimer for this one. This is actually a snippet from my original Star Wars story.
A/N: I am trying to format a story on livejournal so that it will look like written text on a page. I am actually kind of a psycho about formatting. Now I just have to see if that works with different browsers.
A/N II: I must thank my beta reader, redlance_ck. You are awesome! Technically that was left over from my the text I copied, but she is awesome so I left it in.

Chapter 1

          Life can be traced as a thread of interwoven cause and effect relationships ultimately leading up to one moment. This moment.
          All her life, she had been raised on stories of heroes, of adventure-of exploration into the uncharted depths of the galaxy.
          Now, as she pulled herself along the cold, rough surface of the tunnel's steep incline, perhaps she exaggerated the danger to herself because she longed for a hero's existence.
          But she was an intelligent girl, intelligent enough to realize that she and her friends had escaped detection primarily because no one was really looking.
          Growing up among the rebellion against the Empire, she was surrounded by men and women who fought what many considered to be a losing battle. They didn't have to use their imaginations to conjure up stories of heroism, but merely to look amongst themselves.
          She was living in the midst of real heroes who battled every day against overwhelming odds, and never lost hope.
          She was living in the midst of someone else's heroic story.
          At least that's how it felt most of the time...
          “We're lost,” she heard whispered behind her. She didn't recognize the voice, so she knew immediately it was Gates Lighter. He was new to their circle, and she'd been hesitant about bringing him along from the start.
          “We're not lost,” another voice answered.
          Gates protested. “But, I think we should have turned--”
          “Aeon, are we lost?” the other voice asked her.
          “Nope,” she assured them.
          “But back there--”
          A girl's voice piped in from the darkness: “If she says we're not lost, we're not lost. Aeon doesn't get lost.”
          She smiled in spite of herself, but it was true. She could navigate the complex network of tunnels with her eyes closed, guided by some instinct that she didn't understand, yet had never failed her. Where she had developed this instinct she didn't know, but she never remembered having such an uncanny sense of direction before she came to this planet.

I think this works...

Drabble turned ficlet

2008-11-25T03:11:22Z

Title: The Fairytale
Prompt: Snow
Rating: G
Word Count: 869
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Ryan Murphy, but I'm with carpesomediem on this one. If he hasn't complained yet...
A/N: Well, this was prompted by the drabble challenge, but (as you can see from the length) it is a bit long. I think I am genetically incapable of writing a drabble. And I have the utmost respect for all of those authors who write them with great aplomb, creating these fascinating glimpses into the lives of these characters. I just don't think I'll ever be one of those authors. I think even my disclaimer about not being able to write a drabble is exceeding drabble length...Sheesh.
A/N II: I must thank my beta reader, redlance_ck. You are awesome!
Summary: The gang gets together a few years after graduating.

“SD said it’s already snowing there,” Josh informed them.

“He can keep it,” Sam laughed. “I saw enough of that in the weekend I went to visit Northwestern.”

Northwestern had been high on Sam’s list because of the university’s Medill School of Journalism, but Brooke’s convalescence and subsequent rehab made traveling long distances difficult for months after the accident. So Sam tucked the acceptance letter from Northwestern in her desk drawer and decided to stay close to home so they could attend school together.

It had been five years since Sam had graduated from the hallowed halls of Kennedy High. A night out with the old gang-something that they didn’t get a chance to do nearly often enough-was turning into a mini-high school reunion.

Josh and Lily were there, and still married.

Harrison looked the same, although it seemed his hairline had begun to recede already. The guy can’t catch a break, Sam mused.

However, Sam had heard that he had begun seeing Popita Fresh, of all people. Sam made a mental note to grill him for information later.

Maybe after a few more beers, she schemed.

Carmen seemed to be doing well: pursuing her law degree and getting practical experience in the legal field.

Mary Cherry had gone back to Texas to do something or another in her mother’s company. Sam hadn’t really paid attention when she told her, but just nodded, smiling politely, and figured the odds of her becoming a serial killer statistic had significantly decreased.

Sugar Daddy had gotten engaged and moved to Seattle, where the aforementioned snow had already started to fall.

Sam didn’t really know-or care-what had become of Nicole Julian.

Lily patted Josh’s hand. “I know you’re upset, but you’re good at your job-and the kids love you.”

Josh was the assistant coach of a middle school football team. Sam knew he liked the job, but suspected that it was also a constant reminder of what might have been.

Josh had attended USC after high school with dreams of becoming the next great Trojan quarterback. Instead he was relegated to the practice squad while Matt Leinert led USC to a National Championship. After Leinert left in Josh’s senior year, their highly touted recruit John David Booty won the starting job.

Coach Carroll had always liked Josh, and said he possessed a lot of the ‘intangibles’ that couldn’t be taught. He had good hands, and thought that maybe he could start as a wide receiver.

A few months ago he seemed poised for his big break when the Tennessee Titans called. Their offensive coordinator was Norm Chow-whom Josh had trained under at USC and had a good relationship. He even went so far as to fly out and work out with the team.

Sam knew Lily wasn’t thrilled about the idea of moving to Tennessee, but she would do it to make Josh’s dreams come true.

But it was not to be. A short, terse rejection letter ended any talk of relocating to Tennessee.

Josh took another swig of beer, and shook his head. He nodded toward Sam. “What about you, Sam? How’s it going with your writing?”

“Well,” Sam shrugged, “I’m still trying to get my foot in the door right now. It takes time.”

“She’s being modest,” Lily interjected. “She’s already sold two freelance articles.”

“Thanks, Lily.” Sam grinned. Good old Lily: always in her corner.

Sam hadn’t told anyone that she decided to try her hand at a different kind of writing. Her sister Mac’s simple request for a bed time story turned into an adventure yarn about a girl who travels the world having perilous adventures. Mac’s stuffed penguin provided the inspiration for the heroine’s obligatory cute talking animal friend.

Sam framed the story as a letter written to Mac, and as she spun the impromptu tale an entire narrative grew. She stayed up until the wee hours that night, possessed by creative fervor, and wrote rough drafts for the first four chapters.

She didn’t know if anything would come if it, but she enjoyed writing it-which surprised her. She’d never tried to write fiction before.

Just some really bad poetry, she remembered with a grin.

Josh finished his beer and signaled the waitress for another one. Lily glanced at the two empty bottles already on the table.

Josh’s mood must have been affecting everyone else at the table, because Harrison started up with how his job paid all right, but that he hated going to work everyday.

“There should be more,” he added.

“See?” Josh commiserated. “That’s what I’m talking about. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t--”

He stopped, searching for the right words. He decided to take a swig of his beer instead. “None of us got the fairytale.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sam smiled, her eyes fixed on a spot over his shoulder. The last of their dinner party had arrived.

Brooke’s eyes sought hers, and when they met the blonde’s face lit up in a radiant smile. Brooke waved, and light glinted off the gold band around her finger. Sam wore its twin-symbols of the wedding vows they made to each other two years ago.

“I think I did...”

My 15 Minutes of Fanfic Fame

2008-11-07T16:58:59Z

Any Xena fans out there? Wayyyy back in 2001, just after the end of XWP, the Academy of Bards posted a challenge to redo the finale. How could I resist...? So I wrote my one and only piece of fanfic: Hi no Tori (Japanese for 'The Phoenix').

'Hi no Tori' picks up shortly after 'A Friend in Need'. I didn't want to just ignore AFIN. It had left too much in its wake to simply try and turn a blind eye. I had to undo what had been wrought upon an innocent fandom that only wanted a happy ending.

The story (written in screenplay format) was voted the overall winner of the competition, and I was very proud. I had planned a sequel-ambitiously entitled 'The Greatest Xena Story Ever Told', but I decided to pour my energy into something of my own creation. Using the Uber template, I began writing the adventures of a young detective named Artemis Nelson.

If you'd like to check out Hi no Tori, here is the link (warning: it's not short).

http://www.academyofbards.org/contest/challenge2/script5.html

Hello!

2008-11-07T03:18:47Z

This is totally cool. So much to do. It took me a while just to choose a background for the page. Now I need to join some groups I've been visiting and meet some friends.

Was anyone else tempted by the Dido ad at the top of the page? That 'Look No Further' song is awesome.

LOL. I had to add one more thing. When I went to pick my mood, I saw the usual suspects, but I couldn't resist choosing 'dorky'. I ought to select that as my default...

And apparently I have to pick 'tags' as well. So much to do.