Title: Prologue
Fandom: None. original work.
Rating: G
Notes: "Prologue" is just that. I have no clue what to name any of this. Still, it's the transposed beginning that will entail the life and times of my finest creation. As yet very, very, very unfinished, this it the fully transposed update thus far. Depending on how things go, each part will be rated accordingly.


( Prologue )



Now to transpose Chapter One. And eat Mexican food. Or try a full-frontal head image. Oi, I need to do some facial expressions -- happy, calm, sad....and one that's....what's the word? Cold? Jaded? Expressionless? No... Eh, I'll find it.

-R

Cinder and Meg,

I wanted to say thank you. Just thank you, for being as steady as you are. Even when either you or I have drifted, we always have found our way back.

This first year, after the Ides, I found myself more glad of your presence. It gave me hope, strength and the certainty that not all people that I know would end up turning tail, turning face or just plain dropping me like a cask fo beef gone off.

And Cinder. Always adored him. He's just one of those few I felt, and Renne felt, had something. I can't explain what bu tit's something I've truly seen only a few times. Something that makes Renne want to mimic Cinder and look up to him. And in alot of way, same goes on the Mundane side.

Few have that effect on me.
Fewer have it on Renne.
And fewer still have it on both of us.

Thank you for that and don't drift away.
You are a friend, a sister and most valued.

-R

RenArchertoo: ::Hm. Knocking doesn't seem to do the trick. Still, he acts with utter caution and a very clear sense of guard -- like one who has learned to become jaded and even cold to some degree. Managing to open the door wide enough to
RenArchertoo: wriggle on through, the blue-skinned creature stops long enough to listen about. Gauging and, honestly, hoping to all blazes someone doesn't look at him and decide he's a life-sized alien doll like the last being who decided to
RenArchertoo: dress him in...odd clothing. Very odd clothing -- comparative to the "gangsta" or "ghetto" look. Complete with doo-rag...thing::
VHardLuckWomanV: ((Be back in a few.. shmoke treat ))
MysticaIDreams4u: ::Chuckling as she watched the others, she grinned at Ransom:: I'll see if my dad will let you. ::Glancing over at the new creature, she smiled softly as she spoke:: Evening there.
MuseofaBlindPoet: It's undeniable, he's easily amused and even more easily distracted. The bottle comes down on the bar with a thump as he leans on it, full attention on the little blue thing creeping across the floor. "What is it?"
RenArchertoo: ::It's difficult to move your ears when they're as big as his -- five inch ears -- beneath the cloth tied around his head. but he manages. Sniffing in the direction of the Female's voice, the blue oddity chirps as if in response.
RenArchertoo: Curious but always like an animal::
Roguish grin: Leaning over, Kyran snatched up the bottle of scotch after it had come to rest. Normally, he was the sort that would drink properly, from a glass, but the mood and the company seemed a bit more relaxed. Taking the cue from the
OnlineHost: Alenia Solarius has entered the room.
Roguish grin: juggler's surprised question, he followed the other mans' gaze to the small... person-thing there. Green eyes blinked several times, and he popped the cork from his scotch bottle, taking a long swig.
MysticaIDreams4u: ::Smiling, she glanced at Ransom and shrugged, then spoke to the small creature again:: Can I get you anything?
RenArchertoo: ::Well, he supposes a try at talking won't be too bad. Provided he's not *too* amusing. His English is absolutely deplorable. His "ghetto-speak" is even worse:: Wha-at be uhp, dahwww-guh?
OnlineHost: Carrielj83 has entered the room.
MuseofaBlindPoet: His lips vanishing in an attempt not to laugh, eyes wide and beginning to water with the effort.
Carrielj83: Room for one more
Carrielj83: ?
MysticaIDreams4u: ::Grinning, she leaned on the bar casually:: Not much homie. ::And after that, she didn't know to respond and went back to normal speech:: Need anything?
MuseofaBlindPoet: He shakes his head nudging Heaven, "No, no Babe... it's... Not much homie boy g-funk. Chillin in da crib. Sup wit'chu?"
Carrielj83: :::::looks around wondering if noticed:::::::
MysticaIDreams4u: Then you talk to him ::Grins:: And be nice.
RenArchertoo: Ho-mee? ::Ooh. Another word added to his limited vocabulary! Crawling forward in as straight a line as he can, the oddity tries sniffing out each voice. All the while, alas, he runs smack into a few things. Eh, useless eyes do that:

Dear Karen,

I wanted to say thank you.

I'm quite horrible at saying things plain and simple but I'll give it a try here. Poetry sometimes doesn't cut it, even when it's from the heart. I sometimes have a lot to say and sometimes nothing to say.

Right now, I have a lot to say and have little clue of how to say it. So I suppose I'll start simple.

Thank you.

For everything -- tolerating me when I get all emotional, be it angry, sad, afraid, whatever. For so many years of just being here. Seven years now, that's a long time with me.
I worried about you when I didn't see you return in 2003. I worried and I missed you. But I couldn't ask; the aire of everything was so different as to be volatile.

When you came back in 2006, I was most happy. It felt like completion in a little clan again, however much or little sense that makes.
When Archie dragged Renne behind the bar to evade a bullet that I know would have annihilated him, I was shocked. And while so was he, we all know that sometimes things are mutually shared between a creation and creator. Opinions and such.
But yes. Shock was there as was, and still is, gratitude.

When Kaori came along and things happened there, I admit to confusion. I was, for a brief second, a little angry at seeing Renne left on the beach and later, in the dark with the portal and subsequently, the Nance fiasco. But I always found myself happy, relieved, when you returned.

I know it kind of runs parallel in play and while I may sound like I slightly blend, I don't mean to. Again, sometimes parallels run. In this case, the parallel lines run with...coming back. Be it to a place or Archie simply coming back to talk with Renne, or you coming back to talk with me.
It sounds crazy, but thank you for coming back.

It lent a lot of hope, especially in 2006 when, on December 1, I watched my grandmother die. You helped, a lot just by being there. Yapping each other's ears/fingers off or just enjoying a quiet night.

On the Ides last year, when all that occurred, I held hope. While Renne's hope faded and in the end, Harold (whether intentionally or not, I'll never know) told Renne a lie and made the Maritime disappear, I was indeed angry. Still am to an extent but I take relief knowing it wasn't torched.
Simply because the place itself holds memory and the echo of the people. And its heart and soul, which I think, was you/Archie.

The anger grew when things further deteriorated as you might or might not have seen.

The anger was swept away by surprise when I first found your private message to me on Mutual Endeavours. I still have that whole exchange simply because it brings me happiness, even again, that little ray of hope.

Since then, I've seen you and listened to you ramble on about Adalia and I've enjoyed, still enjoy, just sitting there listening to you yap, laugh or vent about her or anything at all.

So thank you. And if ever I may return the favour, don't hesitate to ask. Fir seven years, I have consistently seen you as a friend and thus, I write this probably overdue message.

I apologise many times over if ever I made you angry. Some things, I cannot apologise for or recant, but those thoughts are not aimed at you. You didn't cause them but if ever, they angered you, I am sorry.
Angering a friend is something I'm not keen on doing.

You've been there, endured, laughed, cried and done it all. So have I. We may only be communicating through bits, pixels, codes and electronic wires but to me at least, the communication is as equally valid as speaking to you face-to-face.

Thank you for being the proverbial leaky pipe. The proverbial mentor, annoying sister-figure and overall friend.

I hold hope seven years may grow into a much longer period, perhaps a lifetime. And maybe one day, Archie's "later" in "see you later" will come. From one friend to another, be it in life or in the minds of writers.

Thank you.

-Danie

Transcriptions are going quite well. I'll keep updating my tale here. The Prologue's still untitled -- hell, the entire story is really. Any suggestions?
Anyhoo, updated/constantly updating.

( Prologue )



So I write on. And one of these days, I'll find a scanner big enough to scan my maps of Renne's world. For now though, I find i must do a little nutshell vocabulary-coaching.

Gryliliden -- a harmless pheromone that when released into air or water, reacts to parasites, disease or other bodily, mental or emotional problems. A typical reaction turns air and water a slight yellowish-brown and releases a bitter, unpleasant scent.

Cleteph -- Comparative to a glow worm, a cleteph is a docile, bioluminescent, lmbless animal that is often caught and raised to act as a light source. Keeping a cleteph inside a lantern does not harm the animal as lanterns are typically made of a glass-like substance that the cleteph can feed on. Brightening and dimming a cleteph lantern is done by lengthening or shortening of the traditional hollow, tube-like structure of the lantern.

Back to writing!

-R

So I was inspired to further look into the figurings of Renne's astrological background.

Not surprisingly, nothing Earthling-wise is translating to match. So I embark on a long calculation journey to translate and match things up.

What I'm in some toruble with is figuring his date of birth. Climatically speaking, he was born in what is the equivalent of Earth's dry season. Or for those in temperate, four-season areas, summer.

Strange musings but that's what I get for reminiscing. And reading about other astrological analyses.

-R

So I got a character template done for my book. In honour of a beloved character played by a good friend.

Gavin Archimedes Kavanaugh!

Woot.

-R

All right. I've held this in long enough.

Yes, this is a rant, so you are warned. It's not going to be pretty.

Still here?

Hokay. You have indeed been warned.

----------------------------

In a nutshell, I am SICK AND BLOODY TIRED of CHARLATANS thinking they can RP a blind character and pull it off well without doing research. These same people, when found by those who actually ARE blind, get all up in a tiff and cry "It's only fantasy!" Yes, it may only be such. And fantasy, yes, allows for magic and other things.

But for Hodr's SAKE, people, get some BRAINS and know what the hell you're DOING! Blind and seeing auras? Please. A full-sized HORSE as a practical guide animal? Please. Seriously, people. You make me laugh. You make me sick and you make me understand why I'm such the misanthrope that I am.

You people are beyond stupid.

And worse, you think you're doing a decent job at it? Dear gods, people, research!

The white cane did NOT exist until 1940.
The dog guide did NOT formally exist until 1927!
And no, they didn't get beyond mainland Europe too much until after Morris Frank.

These charlatans make me sick. They should not be allowed to play until they've been put under the blindfold for eight weeks. Then they might have SOME idea of what they're doing.

Okay. I'm shutting up now.

-----End Rant------

-R

So I have a story going on with my critter.

The sad thing is, I may lose him. I'm a creator by nature and I tend to get attached to something that's taen me this long to develop.

He's not ready to go.

I know he isn't. And I'm not ready, if ever, to let him go.

I will likely elaborate later on.

-R

Whew. Getting things rolling now. New userpics. A few at least and while they may look weird, a story is behind each and every one. Believe me on that one.
Acquired more iTunes songs and I now realise now much I want Andrew Zimmern's job!

The man gets to travel the world and try things. Food. As he puts it, "Eat his way around the world."

Yes, I know that sounds perverted but I'm not meaning it in that way! I can be plenty perverted without that.

It's not my job to sit back and turn away
It isn't my duty to let it go another day
I do what many try not to
I say the words found only on muted voice
All I can do is keep on going

Where did I go wrong? I failed a friend
Somewhere along in the darkness
And I would have stood up with him all night
Had I known how to stand by a life.

All too often, a thought remains unheard
Too many days, words go unvoiced
How many heroes do we leave off away?
How much of a legacy
Can I keep on going?

Cynical voices, I hear you there
Stories end so new tales can begin
Have you never thought that
Maybe, for a one time
A story doesn't have to 

Where did I go wrong? I failed a friend
Somewhere along in the darkness
And I would have stood up with him all night
Had I known how to stand by a life.

All my heroes, they've got names
They slew no wyvern, they only did just live
In the end, slain by nothing so grand
Except by the silent forgetful man
Journeyman am I, but flawed

And I often ask of the world, godforsaken world

Where did I go wrong? I failed a friend
Somewhere along in the darkness
And I would have stood up with him all night
Had I known how to stand by a life.

Working out the kinks. Slowly. Amid the dog frustrating me to no end. Oi yah. 

So here is for me a journal. Nice and clean and empty so I can write a bunch of crazy things into it. I can and do and will rant. I don't have a nice mouth when I rant -- I can and would easily make a seasoned mariner blush to his toes. Some entries will be friend-locked or private depending on the entry content.
Everyone has a right to ramble to themselves, do they not?

So here I am with my journal. And a lot of things to write.