Happy Late Valentine's Day...

Quick VD musing here, so please bear with me. I don't normally write anything romance and for a very good reason, but I'm bored AND I finished 40 chapters of Genesis AND I finished my homework for math class, so here goes nothing.

Michael glanced over at the girl and shook his head. "You deserve better than what I could give you." He was quiet for a long moment and did not meet her eyes. Instead, he stared down at the tiled floor, counting the brown specks on one of the linoleum blocks.

The girl crossed the room towards where Michael sat on the couch and plopped down next to him, taking little notice of his personal space. She was one of the few people who had always been able to do this to him without making him too uncomfortable and right now, she chose to take advantage of that. As most girls would do. Sam turned towards him and for a moment, she hesitated before setting her hands on his shoulders. She had always believed that physical touch was a most excellent way of expressing affection and many times, her brother had playfully referred to her as a cuddler.

"Michael?" One of Sam's finger's flicked a strand of Michael's hair. "This isn't about them." She was, of course, referring to Hideaki and Emiko, who had been seeing one another seriously for the past four years. Sam suspected the only reason why they weren't married yet was because of certain objections voiced by several people. "And before you start again, my opinion counts for something."

The young man opened his mouth to protest, about to give Samantha a lecture about how the rights of women hadn't always been to have a say in the affairs of others... or of themselves. But he already knew what she would say. This was twenty-first century America, not some country in the Middle East or two hundred years ago.

"And who's to say that I deserve better than you? What if I don't want that?" She glanced at the calendar, which read February 19, 2015. It had been almost four years since she'd finished college and most of her classmates and friends - her brother included - were already married. So why had she waited? For a long time, she had thought about her decision, even seeking counsel from the most unlikely of sources. Her high school self would have scoffed at her older persona asking for help like she had, but Sam had been desperate and she wanted an opinion other than that of her twin. As much as she respected him, she disagreed wholeheartedly when Scott told her that Michael wasn't coming back. And she had been right, hadn't she?

There was a long pause where Michael watched Sam carefully, as if trying to figure out what to say to her. He was quiet during the entire time; the only sound in the room came from the second hand of the clock keeping track of the moments that passed.

I can't even bring myself to finish this right now. Okay. There is a very good reason why I don't write romance. Now you've seen why. Please don't bug me to write it again.

Snapshots Musings?

So, I was thinking a little more about where I'm taking Snapshots. At the end of chapter five, Dr. Priya Shasthri shows up at Sharpe's apartment. Chapter six will be spent with her, Michael and Sharpe conversing in some sort of manner that is yet to be determined. One thing I've found out about Sharpe is that he doesn't always react the way I think he will, so that should be interesting to write. But it ends with Dr. Shasthri leaving.

Earlier I was wondering how Michael would get back home (or if he would). The logical way would be for Professor Shasthri to give him a ride back to his house, thus leaving Sharpe alone at night. But when she's driving back, I'm not sure if she should talk to Michael at all. Like if he asks her any questions, I don't know if she would answer him. I guess that would depend on what happens earlier in chapter six, which is still yet to be written.

I'm thinking Michael would mostly play the part of an observer and I'm pretty sure I want to skew the narration more to his POV for most of the conversation. I don't imagine him taking explicit part in what's going on, but he should be more of an observer and commentator. I'm not doing first-person POV for this, but rather shifting the narration ever so slightly to include more of Michael's thoughts and his biases. I've shifted POV slightly throughout all the chapters. Like in chapter 1, most of it was Sharpe (though some of Michael). Chapter two was Michael's POV. Chapter three shifted quite a bit. Chapter four was Sharpe and the fifth chapter was mostly Michael's POV, though the omnicient narrator claims the ability to change it whenever she desires!

Not really, but still. I do need to write some, because I miss it so much. It makes me sad. And... I really want to delve deeper into that piece I wrote with Sharpe. There's something that happened to him that he's not saying and I want to know what that is and if he ever tells anyone. I would also love to go into and explore a philosophy class from Sharpe's POV, which will be a huge challenge... not only because I've never done anything of that sort before, but also because out of all my characters, Sharpe is the most complicated and we don't exactly see eye-to-eye, though I think I can understand where he's coming from.

Brief Snippet?

So... my roommate and I were talking last night about characters and such and something struck me that I really hadn't thought of before. Sharpe is a lot more rough (for lack of something better to call him) towards Michael than he is towards Hideaki... or even really anyone else. The thing is that he knows Michael can handle it and Hideaki can't as well as Michael can. Plus, if Michael's going to grow as a person, he needs to be pushed and Sharpe realizes that.

Sharpe's pretty unique amongst my characters, I think. He possesses the unique ability to read people insanely well, but it's a learned skill for him. I don't remember whom he's talking to at this point (possibly Hugh Avery), but he remarks that he has always been a loner and studies people in order to learn more about them. This implies that his ability to read people hasn't always been as good as it is now. Well... or if you read anything about him when he's younger, you can find out that's true. Sharpe's just wierd.

But that wasn't what I wanted to talk about right now... I wanted to talk about something that happens later in Snapshots. And yes, there are spoilers here. So, Sharpe is spending time with both Michael and Jonathan Liu and when all is said and done, Michael has heard some things that he would have really rather not heard... and that Jon's not sure Michael should have been told yet. So Michael basically runs away (unlike Scott, Michael has a good sense of direction, so getting lost isn't an issue).

The door slammed shut and Jon turned to leave. He had to follow Michael... he had to go after his son. This never should have happened. Michael was too young to know all of this. Even though Michael was a good sixteen years of age, Jon would never have expected his own mistakes to weigh so heavily on his son.

Sharpe placed a hand on Jon's shoulder, stopping the older man in his steps and holding him back."Let him go. He needs to take care of this on his own." There was a certain gravity to Sharpe's voice that could not be mistaken for anything other than concern. "There is nothing we can do for him now." He was aware that those words sounded insensitive, cruel even, but he had to say them.

"What'd we do wrong?" Jon's voice was doubtful, questioning. He glanced up at Sharpe and their eyes met for a long moment.

Sharpe could only shake his head. "Nothing," he replied in a near whisper. "He needs to work this out on his own and there is nothing you could have done that would have made this any easier." The lines on his face creased as his thin lips drew into a frown. "He will come back, but please, do not go after him... not now."

Not only is Michael going to get it when he gets back, but apparently Sharpe knows him better than anyone thought was the case. Michael does come back... it just takes awhile.

But that is it for now. I just thought I should update this... and actually write something for once. I am still working on chapter six.

Voices of Characters

While I was working on Snapshots, I kept thinking about little random character details... specifically what their voices should sound like. I have never given it much thought, but many of my characters have voices like people I know.

Take Callisto, for example. She has always sounded like my younger sister (not the youngest) with a British accent because she lives in the UK and always has. Scott has always had a voice like one of my former classmates who is well-liked by pretty much everyone he meets. Sam has always had a voice similar to one of my former classmates, as well. If Marie ever talked, she would sound a little bit to me like my friend Jenny does. Out of my long-standing characters, Michael's voice was a bit harder to pin down. It was only recently that I figured out that Michael sounds a little bit like my friend Dan, at least in my head. Like his voice in general. Okay, granted that Michael does have a touch of an accent and he can slip in and out of accents fairly easily, but still...

Perhaps the most important and most difficult character to pin down, however, has been Sharpe. In my mind, his voice has never been particularly loud, but there is a distinct tone to it. Michael describes his voice as almost hissing (Sophomore Saga). By the unbiased narrator (haha), Sharpe's voice usually gets described as calculating, dripping with sarcasm, not particularly deep, snappish and clipped when he's annoyed, sickly sardonic, cold, caustic (more alkaline than acidic) and having a slight drawl. I'm not sure what kind of voice that would produce, but it would be an interesting one.

Brief Comments on Previous Piece

I noticed a few things when I was writing the piece I shared. These are in no particular order.

• Sharpe clips the end of his sentences short when he's annoyed. Michael also does this on a number of occasions, particularly with the twins.
• Sharpe breaks the promise he made to himself. Not just once, but twice. In canon. The first time is in A Christmas to Remember. Second time is when the fellowship et al is all grown up... well, they're in university.
• The Altons live on Chestnut Avenue, which is the same street that the Liu family, the Adams family and the Johnsons live on.
• Sharpe dislikes his middle name, but he hates his first name.
• I kind of skipped through most of Sharpe's background in an attempt to get the story idea finished.
• There seems to be a common idea of "explaining things" in what I write.
• I really like naming my fictional characters after people... well sometimes. A lot of them share names with other literary characters (I should make an entry about names sometime).
• I don't edit for continuity or making sense when I write things late at night.
• I also noticed I listen to certain music when I am writing different characters.
  

But yeah. Now I need to go back and edit that piece for continuity and stylistics. Bleh. And work on chapter six of Snapshots, which has been started. I ended up deciding to go watch Star Wars last night with friends instead of writing (and then I came back and wrote half a page), so it was all good.

Just Alright - A Brief Writing Piece

I just got an idea for a scene between Sharpe and Dr. Shasthri, so I think I am going to try to write at least some. I don't know how good it will be, but here goes...

MPAA Rating: G
Word Count: 1682
Characters: Priya Shasthri, Sharpe, others by mention
Summary: Takes place right after this... Sharpe has an interesting conversation with one of his professors.
Warnings: Controversial content by the name of religion. Either deal with it or don't read it.

The teenager glanced up, still keeping his hands folded tightly, his fingers almost white from lack of circulation. He had not meant to stay this late, but he had no family... at least none that would be worried about him or wonder why he wasn't at home. Sure, it was the day before Thanksgiving and almost everyone else on campus had gone home for the long weekend, but despite the Altons' kindness and hospitality, their small house on Chestnut Avenue still didn't feel like home to him. It never had.

"Victor?" Dr. Shasthri leaned over next to the teenager. Despite the fact that the boy's student identification read an entirely different name, Priya Shasthri knew quite well that when someone requested to be called something, it was a wise idea to comply. She knew Sharpe went by his middle name... and had since at least the beginning of his freshman year. The professor seriously doubted whether anyone other than a few of the faculty members and the teenager's family even knew his first name. "Listen, I don't want to disturb you, but don't you have anywhere to go?" Even she had something to do tomorrow; she had signed up on the volunteer list to help feed homeless people when their pastor had passed it around the church congregation.

Sharpe's dark eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I have a paper for Frasier's toxicology class that I am going to finish writing tomorrow." He had already done nearly all the research for that project; now all that was left was writing the eight-paged paper, something he had chosen to put off all semester.

Priya frowned and shifted her weight to a more comfortable position, letting her shoulder bag drop to the ground. Inside, she was carrying the weight equivalent of at least three text books. Something told her that prying was a bad idea around Sharpe; the university sophomore had been more than secretive over the past year that she had gotten to know him. But like anyone else, she was curious. "Do you not have anywhere to go? Doesn't your family live nearby or anything?" She could have kicked herself in the shins for that comment; as soon as she had spoken, Sharpe's face paled to the color of parchment.

The teenager bit the end of his tongue, almost hard enough to draw blood. Yes, his family did live near... well, as much as he could call them family. "Not particularly," he lied. The Altons had chosen to go down to San Diego for the break; they had left that morning and were now in southern California, visiting people Sharpe had only met once and honestly could care less about.

Dr. Shasthri sat down on the linoleum floor, thankful she had chosen to wear jeans to work that day instead of a skirt. There was so much she understood, yet so much she had no idea about at all. For a long moment, she studied the quiet student who had proved himself to be an enigma. She had been told that she was good at reading people and she decided to put this theory to practice. As she looked into his dark eyes, he glanced away, resortng to counting the speckled dots on the floor. Her glance followed down to his hands. Scars. Somehow, this didn't surprise her much. There was a short pause. "Well, you're more than welcome to come and join us. We're helping serve homeless people at the church."

Sharpe stood up with such quickness that surprised Professor Shasthri. She had never seen anyone who was not an athlete move so quickly. She watched as Sharpe recoiled into the shadows that were provided by the stairwell. "No!" This was spoken with more force than he had ever used around an authority figure before, other than perhaps Alton. Josiah Alton had heard him yell before, but few other adults had. The back of his fist hit the wall just hard enough to cause redness. There would probably be a bruise there tomorrow.

"I..." The professor was nearly speechless. She knew not everyone at the school was religious - in fact, she was one of three professors in the greater sciences department who held Judeo-Christian beliefs - but she had never imagined anyone getting so upset at the mention of a church. "I'm sorry." Those were the first words that came out of her mouth. "I didn't mean any offense." Priya thought for a moment. She had taken a lot of flack from her co-workers whenever the subject of religion came up. As if being both a woman and an ethnic minority in the sciences wasn't enough. The professor had learned not to take offense at anything that was said.

"I don't take any offense, but I can't." There was a certain aspect to Sharpe's voice that Priya had never heard before. Normally, the sophomore was quiet and his reactions were measured and composed carefully. He hadn't been inside a church building since before he graduated high school... not even on Christmas Eve or Easter Sunday. Especially not Christmas Eve. He could not go back. Not now or ever again. He had promised himself never to set foot in a church building as long as he lived and the young man intended on following through. A promise was a promise, even if it was only to yourself, right?

Dr. Shasthri glanced over at him, but decided not to press... for information or otherwise. If Sharpe was going to tell her what was going on, it would have to be his own choice, not her pressuring him to do anything. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

Sharpe nodded. "Fine. Just perfect." Sarcasm was dripping from his voice and Professor Shasthri caught that and frowned, her thin lips drawing together. Sharpe moved forward slightly and clasped his hands behind his back.

Before she could stop herself, Professor Shasthri decided to take a chance and ask a question that she would probably regret later. "You don't like anything that has to do with religion, do you?" Her question was innocent enough and her voice, non-accusing. It was the same tone she frequently used in the classroom or talking individually with her students.

"Religion is stupid." As the three-word response came, Priya couldn't have been more surprised. She was used to him being far more eloquent or at least less blunt. However, she had to agree with him... to a certain extent. Religion for the sake of religion - as she had pointed out so often to Lewis from the philosophy department, with whom she enjoyed long talks over coffee - was pointless.

Although common sense told her not to, she decided to press. Part of her inner core told her that she was closer to getting the young student to talk than anyone else had been, but Shasthri knew she would have to tread carefully. Amongst the general population, topics including religion were deemed as controversial at best. Even though she and Frank had talked extensively on the subject, both were respectful adults, capable of civil conversation, despite not always agreeing on any particular subject. "Perhaps it is..." These words were more of a muse to herself and a ploy to get Sharpe to explain his comment. "But surely anyone who dislikes religion must have a reason." As a scientist, she held to the philosophy of having some reason for every decision she made, no matter whether her reasons were logically oriented or not.

Sharpe was quiet for a long moment and his long fingers ran along one of his scars on his right hand and up his arm a few inches. "I don't hate religion. I hate Him." The last word he spoke was emphasized and the teenager nodded towards the ceiling. Sharpe's voice had lost its previously present sarcasm.

Dr. Shasthri glanced up at Sharpe. For the past several minutes, he had been standing and she, sitting. She nodded towards him and he sat down, leveling her with his dark gaze. Priya was quiet for a long moment. "If you don't mind me asking," there was a short pause as she studied him and she leaned forward, supporting herself with her hand, "please do explain." Not only had she assumed he was non-religious, but she was aware that at least one of the other faculty members was under the impression that Sharpe was an atheist. It didn't bother her one bit, but something in her said that there was more to him than what met the eye. Such was the way with everyone.

"Explain what?"

She knew she should have been expecting a question in return. She had seen this strategy before, mostly in students who preferred not to talk about a certain subject. They would ask questions in response to questions or try to change the subject; some were better at it than others were. "Your esteemed philosophy professor seems to think that you are an atheist." She was speaking of none other than Dr. Lewis.

Sharpe's eyes narrowed so much that he looked like he was squinting at something. "That is illogical." His lips drew together into a thin frown and he sunk to the floor, leaning his back up against the brick wall. "It's impossible to be angry at someone if you don't believe that person even exists." In the back of his mind, he was pretty sure there was a God somewhere, but he was sincerely doubtful that God was anywhere near caring. His life had taught him that this was most likely the case.

Dr. Shasthri nodded. She was about to say something, but she stopped herself as she caught a glimpse of something shiny in Sharpe's eye. Maybe it was the way the light from the lamp post outside was hitting his face, but she doubted it. "Are you alright?" She almost reached out to put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but decided against it.

Sharpe shrugged. "I will be." He was always alright. Never great, rarely horrible. Just alright. He always would be.

NB: Yes, Frank Lewis is named partially after one of my favourite all-time authors... and after one of the characters he wrote. But these characters belong to me, despite whatever namesakes they might have. And the Altons live on Chestnut Avenue, too (same street that the Lius live on... and the Adamses and the Johnsons).
Another interesting thing to note is that Kiran makes a similar comment about one of her teachers... that their "esteemed science professor will have her corpse as the next anatomy specimen" if she left school without permission.

Eirian's Tale

I need to write more... unfortunately, I want to write something that probably wouldn't happen in the realistic stories I have going, so it might be time to bring out Eirian...

Eirian's an Annuviel, or a winged being similar in most ways to an Elf. Except that they're shorter and they have very large wings. And they can fly. She's from the same clan as Quayle (Xanthus), which means her wings are silvery-white. Her hair is also pretty light and her eyes are silvery-purple, which is characteristic of those descended from the Elder Tribe (Kai and Ismet are not descendents of the Elder Tribe). Those of the Elder Tribe are usually taller than other Annuviels; it is rare for an Annuviel to be taller than five feet.

Most Annuviels have a love of life and all things that grow or breathe, though they tend to be quite xenophobic. They're secretive folk and don't like outsiders. Eirian may not be xenophobic, but she is incredibly prejudiced. To her, humans are alright (she lived with them for quite a few years), but she hates the Dark Elves... or anyone who might be descended from them. She's also incredibly masochistic, as lying causes physical pain for the Annuviels. Some have learned to ignore the pain (like Quayle) and others have learned to like it, but most just don't lie. At all. Eirian actually likes it.

So here's a little something I wrote with her in it. Yes, it's fantasy. It takes place in Almendrim, which is the fantasy land I created. It's kind of your general fantasy land, not completely unlike Middle-earth, though there are more races... and talking animals.

MPAA Rating: G
Word Count: 438

“With all due respect, I must object.” Eirian’s voice was raised quite a bit more than anyone had heard before and she stood up. She and an unidentified human male were in the highest tower at the castle in Cynelic. They had been discussing important matters for nearly three hours; every time the man offered a proposition, the younger female refused. Time after time, arguments started again until at last, Eirian felt like she had enough.

Grey eyes darted to glance out the window, the only portal into the outside world from the Tower. The sun was ready to set and within hours, the twin moons – Lunn and Carn – would appear. The Annuviel felt sick to her stomach; she knew what happened when the moons would align as they would tonight. Far off into the distance, she could already hear the chanting and she thought she saw a flicker of flame out of the corner of her peripheral vision. Another raid. Not even the most foul words in her native tongue of Archia would suit for the moment and she swore under her breath in the common speech.

“Consider it.” The man’s voice was insistent and even Eirian couldn’t ignore the pleading tone that was infused so deeply into his emotions. His offers were tempting; she could do as he asked and still gain revenge upon at least one of the enemy simultaneously. The corner of her eye twitched and there was a brief flash of a devious smile; her ears pricked back and she met the man’s eyes after a brief moment of recovery.

“Alright then, I shall.” There was a slight smirk playing onto her face as she thought through what he had said. A hiss came from inside the shoulder bag she was carrying and a teal head popped out. Nioko glared at the man, suspicion shining through his sulfur-colored eyes. Though the moons would align tonight, there would be no more Annuviel blood spilt over senseless raids by the enemy. She now had the means she needed to exact her revenge.

Little did she know, one action of hers would set off a chain reaction that would involve a major political crisis and another betrayal in her life. Nor was she aware that during the next few months, she would come to discover with whom her true allegiance rested. All she understood was that she had been given a task and she would carry it out like every other time, only placing her signature twist on the assignment.

Instead of deterring the company, she would find them and kill him.

Nioko is her pet snake. The unidentified human male is the Duke, who happens to be a high official in the King's Court. Lunn and Carn are the names of the twin moons that orbit Praesodyn, which is the name of the world that Almendrim (the country) is located on. Cynelic is the capital of the human kingdom. Archia is the name of the Annuviels' native tongue, which is virtually impossible for a non-Annuviel to learn (though some Elves have picked up decent portions of it). Eirian's basically a hired assassin at this point.

Dead Characters?

Well... let us hope that none of my fictional characters wind up dead before the end of Snapshots. No seriously... with Sharpe surrounded by one person whom he doesn't like and having the other person in the room be the only person who can make him feel incompetent... well, let's just hope that no one dies. And I'm planning to work in a flashback between Sharpe and Takahashi. Yes, another one of those... only this one would beg the question of what the chess piece means.

Yes, in case you hadn't figured out (or I haven't told you - haha), chess has an important theme in Snapshots... and in just about whatever else I write. And Takahashi has one of the chess pieces... so does one of my characters who is very much dead.

Also, Dr. Shasthri has the rare ability to make Sharpe feel incompetent. I think this is probably something going back to when he was a student at university, seeing as how she was one of his professors. Not that she deliberately makes him feel stupid...

Seven Secret Statements

So, Rae had a journal entry up on DA, which made me think about my characters a little bit... what would they say about each other if they knew no one would find out? Wanting to put my signature twist on one of the tagged things (even though I wasn't one of the ones tagged), I have decided to do it to the POV of one of my characters, circa 2010. Yes, this is in the future.

Feel free to guess who is saying these or about whom these statements are made. They are fictional characters, not real people. These statements are all made by the same character, just to let you know. I'm only doing seven of them because I intend to take another character and do several later on (when I have more time and a brain that's actually thinking straight).

1. I used to really not know what you were thinking. Ever... but over time, we've grown closer. You're my best man and I can't count all the times we've spent talking. We would always get into trouble together... you and I. I still don't know what you're thinking half the time and whenever I do, I don't think I want to know.

2. The first time we met, you started talking so fast that I could hardly keep up with what you were saying. We've had some interesting times together and I've come to love you like a sister. All those times I've yelled at you and you at me, well... let's just leave that behind us now. You're such a caring person and it's evident to me that you do mean well.

3. I'm not sure there's much to say, other than the fact that you really hurt us. Especially the others and you know who I'm talking about. Why'd you have to go and betray us like that? I can't really hate you, but I'm sorry... you are no longer a friend of mine.

4. I guess this is it, old friend. There are times you've been a jerk, but you're a good guy. I'll miss all those chess games and having to drag you and Quincy out of trouble. You have been and always will be my friend.

5. For the first six years of knowing you, I wanted you dead. But now, I'm not so sure. I've seen a miraculous change in you and I like what I've been seeing. You've grown into a beautiful woman and it's such a change from that insecure puppet you once were. Face it, anyone who makes fun of a teacher like that is insecure. I still don't like you and it's pretty obvious you don't like me, but who are we to argue with ambar bringing two people together? (ambar = Elvish word for fate)

6. Words cannot express what our friendship has meant to me all these years. We've been close friends since I can remember and we've talked about things ranging from what actually incited the debate that ended Forum Philosophorum to what Bilbo meant when he gave the line of "liking you less than half as well as you deserve" in Lord of the Rings and everything in-between. You are very much like a dear sister to me... and much more.

7. I still don't know what to think of you. You've been nothing short of a conundrum since we met and you've only explained yourself a few times... and that's always made more riddles. You've proven yourself time and time again, but I still can't help but question your loyalty. Maybe it's just me, though; the others don't seem to wonder too much. Even through everything, I've always felt like you were watching out for other people. I would like to know if you are, but I don't think you'll tell me. Truth is a double-edged sword and I do hope you are careful of that.

Most of these should be pretty easy, provided that you know my characters.

Slightly OT: New Website!

So, this is slightly off-topic, but I'm going to write it here anyways because it pertains to writing. I just got a new website! Originally, I was only looking for somewhere to link to longer works or works that had more mature ratings, but I like the way it looks. I have a few of my older pieces up, as well as chapters one through five of Snapshots. I'll still be writing here regularly, but that'll be the place where I post finished, longer works... and I'll post a summary and link over here when those get done.

Good times, eh?