Jan. 30, 2007 - Just random stuff

First of all, let me start by saying that this is my favorite way to do the font, background etc. In these colors. Second, let me say that I am feeling random & in need of showing it. Thirdly (And this is the first random thing) I think I've discovered my "type". Of boys. Random, gothic/punk air-heads. Isn't that scary? My dad (And mom) think it's weird. It is I guess. Can I help it if I don't like chatter-box guys!?! And that my favorite color is black!?!? Anyways. Moving on. Sadie Hawkins dance. I my kahki pants. There's nothing better. OOooohhhh! The girls ask the guys. It's always a surprise. There's nothing better. Baby, do you like my sweater? (Told ya I was random.)Can you guess what I was listening to? SADIE HAWKINS DANCE! I LOVE Sadie Hawkins Dance! (That's a real dance ya know.)It's a dance where, (As you may have gathered) the girls ask the guys to it. The guys are NOT allowed to ask the girls. In fact, that's how it is the whole "Sadie Hawkins" day.

Now, these are some of my stories. Please tell me what y'all think. Which ones you like best.

Isla walked into the inn. With her simple blue dress she looked almost like a commoner, though if one studied her for long enough, they would realize she walked with an air of nobility. She walked up to the innkeeper.
"I'm looking for friends, they go by the names of Brendyn and Trellis, have you seen them?"
He shook his head. "Not for at least a week."
With a sigh Isla turned away. She needed to find them before tonight. The attack from the Kevrans tonight was going to be brutal and the Saro-Lavens would need all the help they could get.

Meanwhile, someone else is nearby. A young woman attired as a noblewoman is sitting on top of a fine horse. Seillean turns to the servant beside her.

" Go find Isla. I want to know where she is for now."

" Yes, my lady."

Trista sighed as she ate breakfast.

"What's the matter? Datalin asked. Datalin was Trista's "father', well the only father she had ever known. She knew he wasn't her REAL father but she had never known any other. He also had a uncanny sense of telling when something was wrong with her. Something she sarcastically noticed this morning.
"Just that dream again." She groaned.
"Oh, Datalin hesitated, "maybe you should think about it." The "dream" they were referring to was one Trista had been having for the past month. In the dream she could see a map of Saros, she could hear people saying words in different languages. She could hear, & understand, several beings speaking in the common tongue of Saros. And a few other languages, including old Farie. The funny thing is that she hadn't learned much of that tongue. But that's how it is in those kind of dreams. In the dream even though everyone was speaking in a different language, they were all saying the same thing:
"The time of the Thriesters has come again."

Brendyn and Trellis were walking through town. Out of the side of his mouth brendyn spoke to Trellis. "There's someone following us...."he whispered.
"Took you long enough to notice, there's two of them and they've been tailing us for a good 10 minutes."
"Split up and meet at the inn?"
"agreed."

With that battle brother and battle sister broke up. Trellis fading into the crowd of people and Brendyn along an alley. The two knew the city like the back of their hands. Getting away wasn't the problem...losing their pursuer's was.

That was a fantasy story I did for Betsie wiht some friends. It hasn't been fully edited yet. It doesn't have a name either.

Grey One was horse, but not just any common horse he was a stallion, a stallion destined for greatness.

He lived on little farm in Kuten. His master was not the best specimen of a Kuten farmer, as Grey One would be quick to tell you. But the farmer had one lighter aspect, his

daughter. Her name was Fawn, and she was as beautiful and gentile, as he was ugly and hard.

That's the Legend of the Wind Stallion. It's almost finished.

It’s just like what happened, eight years ago. Was first thought that sprang into Elisabeth Swann’s mind as she saw a limp body, tied to a piece of a ship floated over the waves towards the Black Pearl.

"Will there’s someone overboard!" Elisabeth called to her fiance Will Turner.

"What!?! Gibbs!" Will called to the first mate of the Pearl. "Man overboard!" Will called & pointed to the limp form in the water. The call "man overboard" filled the ship as a boat was lowered & ropes thrown down. The form was lifted from the water & Elisabeth gasped as she realized that the "man" was a, woman. Really more of a girl. She was loosely tied to what looked to be part of a mast on a ship. Elisabeth raced down to where Will stood with the girl in his arms.

"Let’s take her down to the hold." Elisabeth said. But Will wasn’t listening. He was staring past her at something. Elisabeth turned & gasped as she saw the remains of a ship. It had not been burned, as the ship that Will had been on had. The ship that they assumed the girl had come from was ripped apart in a most grotesque way. There were bodies floating in the water. The ship looked to have been of substantial size. A navy ship, from the uniforms on the destroyed bodies. As the Pearl passed by the destroyed ship, the girl began to twitch just the littlest bit.

"Will, we should take her down." Elizabeth said as they passed the quickly sinking ship.

"Yeah." Will said. Nodding absently.

"Turner," First-mate Gibbs said, coming up to the poop-deck. "Who’s the," He paused, looking at the girl. "Oh. Only survivor?"

"Yes." Will answered.

"We’re gonna take her below." Elizabeth said nudging Will towards the door.

"Yeah. That’s good." Gibbs said.

Will carried the girl down-below-deck.

"Put her in Anna-Marie & mine’s room." Elizabeth said, opening the door to her "chambers".

That's a tid-bit of my version of POTC 3.

"Will you stop staring off into the sky!?!" The old slave woman snapped. Reaching out & slapping the girl next to her across the vegetable row. The girl snapped her head around & glared at the woman. "Oh, stop it! I’M not afraid of your "power" Chiz." You SHOULD be! Chiz thought. I could make you fall & get a face full of dirt! Man. Don’t I wish I could do more. Something to PROVE it to her! Chiz when she was little (About 8) had told a girl who was being cruel to her that she would fall & break her ankle. The girl had laughed shrilly, but as she turned & began to walk down some stairs she tripped & fell. Breaking her ankle. Since then people had said she must be a witch’s child. The slaves & servants were all extremely superstitious. They did not consider her the daughter of a "good" witch. But a "wild" one. So many of the slaves were afraid of her. That was fine with her. She hated all of them anyhow.

"Get BACK to THIS WORLD!" Snapped the woman once more.

"Are you Miss, um, Chiz?" Said a hesitant man. Both Chiz & the old woman looked up in surprise.

"Who? HER!?!?" The old hag croaked. "This scrawny little CHILD!?! She’s no MISS!"

"If she’s Chiz, she is." The servant replied. "Are you, Miss Chiz?"

While all this was going on between the old-no-name woman (Called "The Hag" or Tie. Which meant boss of the bunch. Literally.) & the servant Chiz’s mind was racing by at a hundred leagues a minute. What would this servant want with me? He doesn’t know my name so, he must be summoning me on the behalf of someone else. Some, noble! Huh. Why would he (Or she) want me? As all these thoughts raced through her mind the servant was talking to her. And for once the old woman was silent. Her mouth gaped. For the man had just said,

"If you are, then King Galbatorix wants to see you." THAT brought Chiz out of it.

"What?"

"You ARE Chiz, aren’t you?"

"Yes." She said absently. The Hag began to screech again about it. Now Chiz’s mind was TRULY racing. The KING! KING Galbatorix wants to see ME!?! Oh no! Shall I be, no. No. He CAN’T want that. He’s never met me. Well I should say my farewells to all I love anyways. Wait. I don’t love anything. That was true. The only thing she loved was her cloak & her necklace. The cloak that had been with her all her life. She had been wrapped in it as a baby & had worn it under her clothes every day of her life since then. The necklace too. But, it’s not like you can say "goodbye" to a cloak. Yes Chiz was wondering if she was to be killed. That seemed to be all hat ever happened to servants & slaves who the king summoned.

"Follow me then." The servant said. "You should get all your things."

My fan-fic about Eragon. I actually have to change a good deal of it.

Lothriel looked up from her mending as Boromir burst into the room. He was carrying something in his arms. Lady Finduialas was on her feet at once.

"Boromir! What is it? What’s wrong!?!" She said, worry in her voice.

"He fell, Mama." The twelve year old boy cried.

"Who? Faramir!?!!" His mother asked. Boromir nodded & laid his little brother (The thing he had been carrying.) down on his mother’s bed.

"Lothriel, fetch me the herbalist. Gwethin," She said to her older, maidservant, whom had practically raised her. "Please, go get me a bowl of warm water, to wash the blood. And then, a clean rag. Now Boromir," She said turning to her distressed older son. "How did this happen?"

But Lothriel didn’t have time to hear his answer as she flew from the room to find the herbalist.

When she returned with the herbalist, Finduialas thanked her then quietly suggested that she take Boromir outside & distract him.

"What happened?" Lothriel asked as soon as they reached an empty courtyard.

"Faramir & I were playing in the stables. Father found us, & said he wanted me to show him how good I ride." Boromir sighed & tossed some of his thick, brown hair out of his face. It fell right back. "So I did. I didn’t want to though." He mumbled. "Me &, (‘scuse me) Faramir & I were havin’ a good time. ‘Til he came He always ruins it." He said, speaking of his father, Denethor. "Well, Faramir wanted to ride, too. And since father had saddled his own horse, & was riding with me, there was no one to help Faramir."

"Oh no." Lothriel breathed. Boromir nodded, then continued.

"He asked one of the stable hands to saddle up a horse for him, the hand asked him which he wanted." Lothriel shook her head. She could guess where this was going. "He chose one of the war-horses. Of course he couldn’t handle it, & it got away. With him still on it. So, father had to go, & right after he left the horse came tearing up with Faramir cling to his back! I tried to stop the horse. All I made it do was rear & Faramir fell off. So I brought him back as quick as I could."

"That’s horrible." Lothriel said. "Was he hurt bad?"

"He had some blood. And I think he was knocked out." Lothriel nodded. Oh. You’re doing a GREAT job at getting his mind off it! Lothriel thought with disgust.

"Would you like to, practice, um, swordplay?" She asked. Boromir brightened & nodded.

"I’ll get the swords." He said, & ran off to the armory to get their swords. He returned, experimentally twirling his sword to check it’s balance.

And that is my LOTR story. So, tell me which you like best. PLEEEAAASSSEEE!!!????!!! Thank you.