a collection of words

something

Tue, 20 Sep 2005 22:53:59 GMT

I came up with this...because of the simple line "As I headed out the door, I thought I heard her speak" or something like that...

I turned off the computer before me with practiced ease. First shutting down the programs I used, then logging off the internet and finally shutting down the computer itself. This routine barely took five minutes, and now that I have been doing this for many times I felt at times that it was slow. Often I wished that I could simply leave it and it would shut down on its own. But I had to do it manually, as it was procedure.
Hearing the fans of the computer grind down to a halt, I stood up and stretched my arms upwards. Typing all day made me feel lethargic, and a good stretch helped awaken and refresh my tired arms.
In the corner of my eye, I saw her glance at me. A whistful glance that could be interpreted as sorrow, envy, even anger if you can see the angle for it. I for one, had no idea what it meant. It was always like this. I would always leave before her, and my standing up would often prompt her to shut down her own terminal.
But today, something felt different.
She was more dressed up today. Instead of the normal browns or grays she wore, the blouse she had chosen was sky blue. The calf-length skirt she usually wore was replaced with jeans that were dyed black and somehow matched her. Her hair was more lively, following her every movement like the simple turning of her head.
It was most evident however, in her eyes. They had this, determined fire in them.
How can I know this? Well, I have known her since the first time I came to work on my papers here. She worked in the corner terminal, a thick sheaf of papers usually placed on a chair beside her. She looked absolutely stunned when she found out that it was I who was asking if the terminal beside her was saved for someone else.
All this time however, we never talked. It was mostly simple gestures. Nods of the head. A hand raised in greeting. Reaching out to pass a sheet of paper blown away by the wind from the open windows.
Again today felt different. I seem to be in contact more often with her today than usual. At the cafe, I almost bump into her waiting in line. She almost ran into me after my last class, obviously in a hurry to catch her own class.
Honestly, I found her attractive. But, I thought that I wasn't the one for her. For one, I was an average student. She however never failed even a simple quiz.
I pushed the papers I had into an envelope and proceeded towards the door.
That's when I first heard her voice talking to me. In fact, what she said wasn't even a sentence. It was a sound, uttered in hesitation and confusion.
Curious, I stopped and turned to face her.

a character profile from that demon dream thing I had a while back

Tue, 01 Mar 2005 04:18:12 GMT

I have rewritten and refined that dream in my head for so many times that I have forgotten some things and added a whole list of others...

the latest idea I though of was that the two halves of the demon were dancing in some party or bar (and rather sensually I might add as they both had drunk something). this idea came from a previous experience I had...don't ask XD

anyway, I had to write some things down so that I won't forget them and that I can have something to look back on for information...

for now, this is just a character profile...

Mia
Always with an amused look on her face that seems to be either mocking you or teasing you, or both, Mia is the shorter of the two halves of the Guardian Demon. Standing only five foot two, coupled her svelte figure, she is often mistaken as a young girl in her early or mid teens. Her long platinum hair that reaches almost to her waist and pale complexion coupled with her innocent looking and flawless face is something many find difficult to resist and to dislike. Added to this is her fun-loving attitude (childish in some instances) and lively manner in doing anything. Many would say however that she is "naughty" in that mature use of the word. Her mischievious smiles do little to dispel such opinions of her.
Between the two halves, Mia is actually the older one. She was converted to the fold of the Demon a good half century before Aliciana. When asked of how this can be, she would grin 'naughtily' and start to approach whoever asked in a slow deliberate manner with cat-like grace. One might think that she's actually coming on to you (^^;). She would then whisper "That is my secret to keep."
When serious, her lively manner is replaced by a cold and calculating one. This makes it easy to determine if she is pissed off or when she means business, unlike Aliciana where no noticeable difference comes up.
An interesting quirk about Mia is that her feet never touch the ground. She floats an ince or two off the floor always, and to keep this from being noticed she adapts this fast moving manner where she dances a bit from side to side and wears long skirts that cover her feet.

another chunk of story i wrote some time ago...i think it was the foundation for a story...

Tue, 04 Jan 2005 23:49:29 GMT

In the war that brought peace unto the land, two names were embedded into history. But like history, those names were soon forgotten. The only memory of them that is written down in old tomes is their story. Before the war, one of them was just a warrior who fought for money. He is known only as the Apocalypse Blade. The other one was of noble blood. But that blood was tainted. She came from a family that was cast out from the country because of dabbling in, then forbidden, magic. She is known as the Sorceress.
The war that broke out unexpectedly was started by a revolutionary group in the land of Ddyna. Their name is still remembered now, often associated with treachery, blackmail, and deceit in almost every language. They were the Ikoia, which in very old texts meant "freedom". But they were very different from other revolutionary groups that rose during years prior. They killed needlessly, used all tactics possible, they even used children as weapons. It was either you were with them, or you die. The old kingdom should have been able to take care of this uprising, but the Ikoia had one thing up their sleeve. It was magic. Very powerful magic. This came from their leader, whose name has been erased from all records. He is just mentioned as the Defiler. The Ikoia decimated anything and everything with this newfound power of theirs. They came to control the government in mere weeks. And they didn't stop there. They began to take over other countries. In the space of half a year, they were able to nearly conquer the continent. Armies joined willingly because of fear, fear that thier own countries would be destroyed utterly. The lands of Etiho still lie in silent testimony to the destruction that the Ikoian Empire was willing to do.
By the coming of winter in that year, what was left free of Ikoian control was a small country which was barely able to keep the advancing armies at bay. This country was Chedu. Tall mountains and intricate forests helped but the major factor was technology. This country was able to create advanced weaponry that, in a sense, used magic to power themselves. This technology they unearthed just as the uprising by the Ikoia. Their expertise in this advanced technology was still low. And Cheduan principle of "making sure" kept them from either finding weapons that could have turned the tide even earlier or destroyed half of the continent with them.
It was during the time when the advancing armies nearly overran the last fort that defended the city that the tide suddenly turned. The Sword Master was then already employed in the service of the Chedu and was fighting in the front that kept the line from going at the city it self. Here the historical documents are quite hazy. Some mention that the Sword Master suddenly showed his true power, that of being a true savior and was able to hold back the Ikoian army singlehandedly (This is belief is often put weight upon by the Order of the Sword Knights, as their whole religion rests upon these shaky accounts.) But the most believable account is one that comes from someone who seems to be the Apocalypse Blade's close friend. The only name that we can seem to gather from his documents is his (we presume this character to be male, due to the way he writes and the way he acts) nickname which is Oben. He tells how the Apocalypse Blade recounted to him just how the Apocalypse Blade became the Apocalypse Blade.
In his recounting the Apocaypse Blade was fatally wounded, an enchanted blade run through him. He had managed to crawl to the burning fort. He would rather burn and die than be brought back as a zombie to fight for the Ikoian Army.

something I did maybe a year ago...unedited so expect some grammatical and spelling errors...

Tue, 04 Jan 2005 23:46:53 GMT

"why didn't you do anything?" That was the first question she asked when we met. It was a dull saturday summer afternoon. The sky was cloudless and in this tropical climate, that was not a very good thing. The sun's rays beated down incessantly upon the ground, the heat visibly rising up in the distance.

We met at our old school. The few summer classes were already finished, and none of the varsity teams had scheduled summer training for today. It was just the few janitorial staff, the teachers that still had some things to do, visitors, and us in this school.

An empty school is a somewhat scary place. The places you are usually accustomed to be teeming with life and energy are lifeless and stagnant. The trees around would sway with the wind and their leaves would rustle with the movement. It would be the only noise you would hear.

We had agreed to see each other outside of our highschool room, right beside the windows had a view of the parade grounds. It was a memorable place. Every morning when we still studied here, the usual morning routine of the national anthem and daily announcements would be done. Students were made to stand in two lines here, arranged by family name. We stood together, unless one or the other was absent.

She had arrived first.

Our senior classroom, like all of the other senior's rooms, was located on the top floor. That was 8 flights of stairs to climb. There was an elevator but it was shut down that day. I had to trudge up the steps. And with each step, I seemed to grow sadder. Memories would flash by my mind. Whispered conversations, bellowing laughter.

When I had climbed up through the last flight of stairs, I glanced to my left. Our meeting place was the first room on the right. I could see her leaning partially out the window, the wind pushing back her hair. I stopped and watched her. She hasn't realized that I was already here I guessed. Maybe she didn't hear me climb up.

That was very possible. Whenever she would start to think, she often becomes oblivious to the world around her. How many times have I looked at her while she stared out into space, chasing down thoughts in her mind? How many times have I seen her blank stare, fleeting emotions that would cross her face as she touched upon ideas? How many times has she snapped out of that state in embarassment, her lips set into a halfsmile and apologetic eyes?

But now as I watch her, I could somehow feel that something was different. Things had changed. Just one year can change a person. The look in her eyes was not the calm stare I remember. It was troubled, sorrowful, and regretful. The only emotion on her face was that of longing. She was a bit taller now, and was dressed more casually. Or maybe this is because I was accustomed to seeing her in a school uniform. But it was unmistakable that she looked more mature.

She closed her eyes, and raising her left hand to her face, gently rubbed at them. Then she seemed to wipe away a tear. I am not sure if there was indeed a tear, I was too far away.

This was then she took notice of me, her gaze quickly turning to my direction. She turned slightly and then I noticed that one thing hasn't changed. She still wore her hair long and always placed a ribbon near the end to keep it from flowing out.

I gave an apologetic smile and approached. She nodded as I came close, and turned back to face the window. Like her, I faced outside the window and leaned a bit out, my arms resting on the balcony ledge. Some time passed. How long, I don't know. it could have been an hour, a minute, a second...I am not sure.

Back to the first question, the one I still haven't answered.

just a narration of a dream...of sorts.

Wed, 15 Sep 2004 15:36:32 GMT

nabbed it from my real lj since...well this is just my writing lj and it has been quite some time since I put up something new to write.

here it is...never to be lj-cut...

Anyway, it began with me seemingly running through stone and wooden hallways. Occasionally I would have to dodge around some pieces of the ceiling that had fallen, and pieces of destroyed or usable furniture like benches. The lights came from what seemed to be balls of light hovering near the cieling, providing just enough light for me to see ahead around a meter or two. I was obviously trying to get my poor ass out there, and something was giving chase to me. In one particular hallway, I saw a flight of stairs and jumped down them. I am not sure how but I landed past the stairs onto the lower floor. I looked behind me and I caught a glimpse of what was chasing me.

There were two of them.

The first one appeared to be a girl who had barely went past her teenage years wearing a red european-ish dress. I could tell that I was taller than her, her eyes probably on level with my nose. Her dress had long sleeves and was frill-less, its edges black and it moved in such a way that it seemed to be a part of her. This girl had pale, almost white, skin which seemed smooth to touch. On her gentle and clear face was an expression of desperation and anger while her long black hair flowed out behind her as she seemed to literally hover off the ground and speed towards me.

The second one was also a girl, though she was wearing a similar though less detailed version of the first one's dress and she looked like she was younger by five years or so. It was also white, but still retained the black lining. She seemed to have more color tone, her skin looking like a softer shade of the color flesh. Unlike the other, this girl seemed to wear make-up of sorts. Her lips a dark shade of red and a mischievious smile. For her size, she seemed to be the more mature of the two. And instead of hovering, she was sliding down the handrail of the stairway, her pose rather lady-like but determined.

I continued my running and after some more turns, I could somehow feel that I was nearing my exit. I could hear their angered and desperate cries as they gained on me. Just then, I suddenly dived to the ground as I came to a huge wall of rubble made of stone and wood. There was a small opening on the floor beneath the rubble, and as I crawled my way through that I could smell the fresh night air. Behind me, I can hear the frantic scrapings as the two girls who were chasing me scrambled to catch me.

When I managed to get out and stand up, images suddenly began to flash before my eyes. It was as if I was watching a movie. The message that I gathered from those images was that wherever I was, there was a ritual of sorts where one of the inhabitants would be a sacrifice. The selection was not done by the people. It came randomly, and whoever was chosen seemed to be known by everyone. Whoever was chosen was supposed to go to a temple of sorts and there be sacrificed to the Demon. Those two girls who were chasing me were the Demon. But there were unspoken but known facts about that ritual and the Demon.

It is rather confusing to refer to the two girls as the Demon, but that was how it was. I can't explain exactly why right now.

First, the demon was confined to the locale of the Temple. They could never go out no matter how they tried. And they only became hostile during the ritual and until it ended. Second, The demon can freely roam the insides of the temple, and they can often be seen looking out the windows. It was believed to be bad luck to be observed by the Demon. Third, the demon would only pursue the chosen unless someone tried to interfere. A loud scream was what was usually heard by the people if and when the chosen was caught by the Demon. There was even a rumor that the Demon in red would bite onto the neck of the chosen and then suck at his or her blood. The white one would then eat the bloodless corpse. As for those who interferede, they can be seen at daybreak crushed beyond recognition at the temple doors.
Last was that there was a way to escape certain death in the hands of the demons. On the day of the ritual, if you can manage to escape from the grounds of the temple, you will be forever free from being chosen again. Even during the ritual when the Demon is bloodthirsty and you were a previous chosen, they can never lay a hand on you unless you wish for them to do so.

Then I suddenly found myself beside four men in black, looking on as the Demon talked to another girl in brown robes. As far as I can tell, it was a year later from that incident where I escaped. The men in black (and yes, they even looked the part. shades and suit) were supposed to help the chosen girl to escape. My reason for being there was that I had found out what would happen if the demon didn't feed for too long. But that came later.

i would finish this but I'm playing ragnarok. ^^;

Mon, 29 Mar 2004 16:02:42 GMT

edited the first entry and modified it more to tell a more better tale in my opinion.

Meitan was the first to scream in shock and outrage at what was unfolding. But her voice was quickly lost in the cacophony of voices that arose. Anger, suprise, shock and disbelief mixed into the atmosphere of that lazy afternoon.

It was not everyday when the new teacher they have for Combat Arts, one who everyone in the school seem to like and favor, would intentionally and without mercy 'attack' in class a student with what seemed to be killing intent in a sparring match for their midterms.

It was not everyday when they saw solid hits land on a human body, with the almost audible crack of breaking bone.

Kariss Trick.

She arrived as quietly as the other Combat Arts teachers that the school has had over the past few weeks. No general assemblies to introduce her, nor were there any announcements of any kind. She was just there, sitting on the grass-filled square that was the Combat Arts Field with an amused look on her face as she waiting for the class to arrive. The students were used to this however. They had too many teachers for this class disappear suddenly never to be heard of again or recalled into service at the borders, defending their territory.

She didn't look like a Combat Arts teacher. She looked young, maybe around her mid 20's, but that was something not to be taken for granted. Magic can do a lot of things, either by illusion or by actually making people younger, or she could be Nosferatu. The last possibility was that she was just that good of a Combat Arts Teacher that she was able to teach it at this age. But Meitan doubted this. The lack of scars or limps seem to imply that she was something else.

Kariss wore her black-brown hair long, reaching just past her shoulders and kept into a semi-ponytail by a blue ribbon. Her face was one that was obviously used to smiling, and even for Meitan, that smile was quite attractive. It seems that some of the male students were already smitten. Her eyes were either blue or purple, Meitan couldn't tell exactly from her distance. She had good eyes, but not good enough to accurately determine someone's eye color from ten feet away.

The teacher appeared smaller than she really was, as Meitan wasn't the only one who gve whispered comments on that aspect when she stood up to address the class assembled before her. From her guess, the new teacher was an half a head taller than her.

What made Kariss very different from the rest of the other Combat Arts teachers was that she had no weapons visible on her body. She wore a long-sleeved blue denim jacket that was unbuttoned up to her stomach, and beneath it was a loose black shiny shirt. Finally, the calf-length deep blue skirt she had on wasn't continous. That is, there were cuts positioned in front of her legs, giving away the design's combat-oriented context of freedom of movement. Aside from the deep blue gauntlets and shin guards she was wearing, she seemed unfit for the job.

Standing up once the class was more or less assembled before her, she spoke in a clear, stragely cheerful yet at the same time reserved, voice.

"I am Kariss Trick, your new Combat Master. As usual no lethal attacks will be delivered in this class. However, I want you all to know that during normal classes, I will be sparring with you occasionally. And on those instances, I will fight with you in a level I deem appropriate for your fighting skill. If there aren't any questions, form up into pairs, bring out whatever weapon you use and practice with or rather, on each other so that I may see just how much you all know."

That was probably the shortest introduction the class has heard from anyone. Usually, the teacher would give out their credentials, a short history of themselves, their expectations for the class, and their personal rules.

By the time they were into the first hour of the class with the students sparring with each other, Kariss was deemed to be compentent. She had already spotted the few who were good at combat and also those who weren't. The former she mostly left alone except to point out something new to try, while the latter she kept her attention on and she was also seemed to be trying to find which fighting style and weapon would suit them most.

From the corner of her vision, Meitan could see that the teacher was headed her way as she sparred with her best friend Arrenet. Arrenet's weapon of choice was a spear, as opposed to Meitan's cestus and shield.

(to be continued)

fixies will be up soon.

Fri, 26 Mar 2004 19:37:19 GMT

the edit I made of the previous story post will be up any time soon. just busy with ragnarok (oops) and that my brain won't allow me to process paragraphs more than 3-4 sentences long.

also, my creative abilities are quite low (due to the overload I did to fix up/edit a friend's paper).

03 - 23 - 2004 : introduction? but to what?

Mon, 22 Mar 2004 19:09:16 GMT

Meitan was the first to scream at shock and outrage of what was happening. But her voice was soon lost in the cacophony of voices that arose. Anger, suprise, shock and disbelief mixed into the atmosphere of that lazy afternoon.

Its not everyday when the new teacher they have for Combat Arts, one who everyone in the school seem to like and favor, would intentionally and without mercy 'attack' in class a student with what seemed to be killing intent.

It was not everyday when they saw solid hits land on a human body, with the almost audible crack of breaking bone.

Kariss Trick.

She arrived as quietly as the other Combat Arts teachers that the school has had over the past few weeks. The others simply disappeared or were recalled into service against the increasing attacks against settlements on the borders. The students were now rather uncaring as to what would happen to this specific class' teacher.

She wasn't even introduced to the students formally. She was just there, sitting on the grass-filled square that was the Combat Arts Field with an amused look on her face. She didn't even look like a Combat Arts teacher. She looked young, maybe around her mid 20's, but it was not to be taken for granted. Magic can do a lot of things. She appeared smaller than she really was, as Meitan wasn't the only one who gve whispered comments on that aspect when she stood up to address the class assembled before her.

What made her very different from the rest of the other Combat Arts teachers was that she had no weapons visible on her body. She wore a blue denim jacket that was unbuttoned up to her stomach, and beneath it was a loose black shiny shirt. Finally, the calf-length deep blue skirt she had on wasn't continous. That is, there were cuts in positioned in front of her legs that gave away the design's combat-oriented context. Aside from the deep blue gauntlets and shin guards she was wearing, she seemed unfit for the job.

A few minutes into the class, however, the students knew that she was for real. She didn't act as if they knew nothing, nor did she act as if they weren't worth teaching.

The only rule she said she would follow to the letter was this, "I will spar with you in the proper amount of hostility and lethality that is appropriate for your level. That is, I won't kill any of you but I will spar you at the level of your expertise. And with that, I will be able to teach you properly at what you need to be taught."

Meitan forgot about this rule when she saw Kariss spar with Riel, one of their aloof classmates. It was because Kariss didn't seem to be holding back, her myriad of kicks and punches that were often held back or pulled when faced with other students landed with such force that it would have knocked out most. It wasn't only that which surprised and shocked the students.

It was the first time they saw blood in that class being drawn.

...

Mon, 16 Feb 2004 07:33:11 GMT

if you got in here...its a surprise. this is my, peropero11's, personal (so far. I might link a few of my friends to it) writing journal. that is to say, I'll be placing the odds and ends of my stories here. they might be pieces of a whole story, pieces of stories, or short stories themselves. I don't know. I don't have anything in-line to write so far. maybe when I start getting good ideas again.

Oh and be advised that sometimes the stories I might make might be explicit. No, they are not lemons or stories that revolve mainly around sex. Its just that sometimes, the ideas I get fall under the "SicK" category. I'll probably put warnings and such.