|Feb. 9th, 2003 08:33 am Minor annoyance|
Ok, a recent comment in my journal has annoyed me to no end. Not becuase of what what said, but rather what was NOT said. I truly do not mind if people use this as a way to get ahold of me to just say hello, but it would be nice if they at least say SOMETHING in reagrds to the post they are commenting on. I was hoping for feedback on a start of a story I posted. The first comment I got was not a comment about the story, but on how it was thought I should format my journal. Fair enough. You are entitled to your opinions, but what about what I wrote? If you are going to take time to comment or have "conversation" so to speak in the comments, something said one way or the other about the original post would have been nice, even if it had been some thing saying, "This is too sick for me," or "I liked it, but...", or even "I hated it."
Now, it is not my intention to offend anyone with this post. It is mostly me letting off steam because something has annoyed me, plain and simple. Please keep in mind that you are free to keep me or not on your friends list. I would not be hurt at all if, for whatever reason, you decide to take me off of yours. I deem it an honor to be thought interesting enough to have other want to read what I have to say.
Anyway, I am rambling which is a habit of mine. I will go now.
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|Feb. 8th, 2003 09:23 am I need to find a game|
*sighs* I have been coming up with character after character and scene after scene and I cannot play or run any of it. I am bored and stressed. Role-playing is my stress relief and I don't even have that. Ah well. I suppose my next route will be to check the bords at a game shop or two and see if I can find a game to play that way, but I am leary of doing that. I will not know anyone, I will not know how they have changed the rules, or how they play the game. I have already been asked to leave a group that I liked because it was felt I was too agressive. I never did find out if that was thought about me or my character, but that is not important. I am afraid of joining one of these already established groups, or a group that is just starting, and finding that I am not compatible to the group. I do not want to be a timid player, but I also don't want to be seen as too agressive. *sighs* Gods, I am an idiot. I will just have to see what happens. I guess part of it is the fact that in situations like this I am rather shy. Oh well. I will figure out something.
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|Feb. 7th, 2003 02:47 pm Bored, bored, bored|
A good sign that I am bored lately is how often I update my journal. *sighs* I am rather transparent some days. At any rate, I have a character concept I wanted to share. I know some will not care, but here goes anyway.
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|Feb. 7th, 2003 09:13 am Kinda Cool Anita Blake thing|
I found this and thought it was kinda cool, though I am not sure it really fits me too well. *shrugs*
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You are Ronnie Sims, Anita's best friend. You have a job as a private detective, and are always there to help, even if it's unwanted. You'll even give fashion tips if need be. You're a great anchor to the world of humans for Anita, one she needs a lot of the time.
Which Anita Blake Character Are You?
|Feb. 7th, 2003 08:37 am Trying again|
I am attempting to post this again. For some reason, my latest update did not post. If somehow I end up with two posts, well, then I will just delete one. *grins*Leave a comment
Anyway, I was bored so I decided to roll up a new character. I rolled damn good stats even for me. I rolled not one, but four 18's. Four! My other scores were a 16 and a 15. I thought this was amazing. The sad thing is, I will probably have to use the rolls for a NPC. Few DM's will let me play a character with scores like that. For some reason they think they are two strong. *shrugs* Oh well. I will just make the character anyway and see what I come up with. Maybe I can make a background for it that will hook the DM enough to overlook the high scores. We will see what I can come up with.
|Feb. 6th, 2003 11:17 am A new story|
Ok, I got bored at work and have started writing again. There is a warning to go along with this one though. It is a sexually graphic story. It has a very graphic rape scene, so if you cannot handle that kind of thing, please do not read this. Otherwise, any imput is welcome.
Hmm, where should this tale star? Most would say at the beginning, but which beginning? Do I start when Caran was born? Perhaps the beginning may be when she first fell in love. There are many places one could start, but I believe I know where to begin.
Caran was barely sixteen when her tribe was attacked by brigands while the men were out hunting. She would have been with them if she had not been helping her mother to deliver on of the women’s baby. The poor woman had been in labor most of the day and Caran had been needed for her knowledge in herbs and healing.
Caran had just handed the new mother her new baby girl when screams broke out on the other side of the village. Caran and her mother both ran out of the tent to find the village in chaos. Women and children were trying to escape the men on horseback. Many of those who had tried to fight had been killed, while others were badly wounded.
Caran yelled for her mother to run as she grabbed a spear that had been next to the tent and entered the fray. She was daughter of the chieftain and she would do her best to protect her people. She swung the spear at the head of a rider, knocked him off his horse, and stabbed him through the throat. She savagely ripped the spear out of the dead man and set herself for the next bandit on horse that attempted to rider her down.
After dispatching him, she grabbed his sword. She killed two horseless men that had been attempting to get past her to her mother who had grabbed a bow and was picking off riders with deadly accuracy. By this time, some of the other women and old men had also found bows while some of the boys who had been deemed to young for the hunt used their slings to deadly effect.
The bandits had been expecting an easy raid and were soon riding off with those they had managed to capture. Two riders rode towards Caran. She was able to dispatch one, but the other scooped her up as she rode past. Her mother was only able to look on in horror as she had run out of arrows. The rider hit Caran in the face with a mailed fist and knocked her out cold. The last thing she heard was him chuckling.
When Caran awoke, she found herself staked spread eagle to the ground completely naked. She turned her head to one side and could see the few women and children from the village that had been taken along with her. She estimated that there were at least fifteen maybe twenty of her people there. They had been placed in a wagon with barred sided, much like a cell. She turned her head to the other side and saw the man that had taken her walking towards her.
He was a large man, easily six and half feet tall. His shoulders and arms were heavily muscled. His blonde hair fell to his shoulders and his green eyes sparkled with an evil gleam. He stopped at her head and slowly took in her own appearance.
Caran’s thick raven black hair was knotted and matted with dirt from the ground. It followed the length of her body until it reached her knees. Her skin was deeply tanned and flawlessly smooth. Her ample breasts were firm and her nipples were rosy against her tanned skin. Her stomach was flat and smooth and it led the man’s eyes to the curly patch of black hair between her legs.
The man stepped between her legs and looked down at her for a time, admiring her well shaped body. He could see fear and uncertainty in her crystal blue eyes and he reveled in it. As he kneeled between her legs, the fear became horror and Caran struggled against her bonds.
“Oh, you will be a fine one to break,” the man laughed as he caressed her thighs slowly. Caran’s body tensed as he continued, “I believe that I will keep you for myself, princess.”
Caran bit her lip in an attempt to keep from crying out when his fingers bit cruelly into her thighs, pinching them hard enough to leave a bruise behind. With a smile, he bent down and took her nipple into his mouth biting down hard. Tears sprang into Caran’s eyes, but she did not utter a sound. He then crushed her mouth with his, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Caran bit down hard. He pulled back and slapped her so hard in the face that she saw stars.
“Now, you can be a good girl and cooperate, thereby making this a pleasure for us both, or you can fight me and make this pure hell for you. Either way, I will derive much pleasure. You are mine now, princess, and you best not forget it.”
With a little pat to her face, he stood. “Take this opportunity to think on how you will act. Either way, by the time I am done with you, princess, you will begging for me and calling me Master.”
He left her then to her thoughts. One of the women started screaming and Caran quickly turned her head to see what was happening. As she watched, several of the young girls and women were taken out of the wagon and raped. A few of them where handed to others to relieve themselves. Caran roared in rage and demanded that the women be left alone. She struggled so hard against her bonds that the rope scraped against the delicate skin of her wrists and ankles causing them to bleed.
When the men had finished reliving themselves, the women and girls were put back into the wagon. The other immediately did their best to comfort the ones that had been used. After about an hour, Caran heard riders enter the camp. There was a lot of good natured arguing about the price of the wagon full of people. After a few moments time, Caran watched as horses were hitched to the wagon and it was driven off into the setting sun. During all of this, she had been ignored.
Shortly after the wagon left, she heard more arguing. This time it was over her. It stopped abruptly. The she saw her captor striding toward her with a scowl on his face that did not bode well for her. He stood above her for a moment with his arms crossed before drawing his knife. He knelt beside her and dragged the tip of the blade down the center of her chest to her pubic mound. She kept very still. With a cruel grin, he brought the knife back to her shoulder and carved a dragon into it.
Caran could barely keep from screaming, though tears flowed silently down her cheeks. This seemed to enrage her tormentor. He stood quickly and yelled for his tent to be set up over his prize and a guard sent. He did not want his new toy used before he tired of her. He assured Caran that he would not forget about her and that he would be returning soon after he had seen to the setting of sentries and other things. He left her in the tent alone with her shoulder bleeding freely.
Caran’s shoulder was on fire. After what seemed like an eternity, the tent opened and her tormentor returned. He casually stepped over Caran and sat on the cot beside her. Caran watched him fear making it impossible for her to look away. She watched as he slowly disrobed, his arousal apparent before her dropped his pants and kicked them away.
“I don’t fancy the hard ground for my pleasures, but it will do for now,” he grinned as he again knelt between her legs. “You are rather filthy, though. We will have to remedy that.”
He stood quickly and disappeared from view. He came back with a full water skin and a rag. He washed her from head to toe with the cold rag. Caran did not utter a sound. By the time he was done, she was shivering from the cold. The night was cooling fast.
“Do not worry, princess, you will be warmed soon enough,” he chuckled.
“Jenner!” a man yelled as he burst into the tent.
“Damn you, Tam! I told you I did not wish to be disturbed,” Jenner growled.
“I know, I know,” the babbled, “but the men caught someone nosing around nosing around the camp.”
“Was he alone?”
“Yes. He has the look of that one’s tribe,” the man answered nodding towards Caran.
A slow smile spread across Jenner’s face, “Bring him to me. Also a long stake and rope.”
Tam nodded and left. Jenner paced the tent thinking. This job had been taken on because the chieftain had angered someone. Jenner had been told to capture as many as he could for the slavers. He had also been instructed to capture the chieftain’s family. He had only managed to grab the daughter. He had decided to keep her for himself instead of giving her to his employer.
Tam soon returned with three men dragging a struggling man. When he caught sight of Caran, he was stunned and stopped struggling long enough for his wrists to be bound behind his back and forced down to his knees. Caran took in the man’s raven hair and blue eyes and tears of shame began to flow down her cheeks. Of all people to see in her thus, why did it have to be her older brother?
“Caran,” her brother breathed. His eyes flashed with rage. He took in her bleeding shoulder and his struggles began anew. Standing just as tall as Jenner, he towered over the rest of the men and it took four of them to bring him back to his knees and drag him to where Jenner had indicated.
“Ah, so you know our little princess, do you?” Jenner drawled. “This is wonderful. Now, from there, you have an unobstructed view of her perfect, well, not so perfect anymore, body. I do so hope you will enjoy the show.”
Jenner laughed and waited for his men to finish pounding in the stake. Caran’s wrists were then tied to his ankles making him stay kneeling, and then he was tied to the stake itself. Even if he managed to get the stake out of the ground, he would not be going anywhere.
When Jenner was satisfied that his audience would not be able to interfere, he dismissed his men and returned to his spot between Caran’s legs. Her brother growled in rage and struggled fiercely against his bonds. Caran looked at him pleadingly, begging him with her eyes not to say anything. She feared for his safety. He fell silent as Jenner laughed and Caran turned her head shamefully away.
Jenner thoughtfully caressed Caran’s thighs. He watched in amusement as the other man’s eyes filled with hate and his jaws clenched in rage. Caran’s body tensed at Jenner’s touch. Jenner smiled. This would indeed be entertaining.
“What is your name?” Jenner asked his captive audience casually. When he did not receive and answer, he dug cruelly into Caran’s wounded shoulder until she screamed in pain.
“Starfox” her brother choked out around his rage.
“Very good. It is a pleasure to meet you,” Jenner smiled. “What are you to our little princess here?”
“Brother,” Starfox answered shortly.
“Hmm, very interesting. My employer did not tell me of you. I suppose you were off with you father hunting? Well, no mind. This should be very entertaining for you. If it is any consolation to you, the little princess acquitted herself well. She killed several of my men.”
As he talked, Jenner’s hand continued to stroke Caran’s legs. She jumped when his hand moved to the dark patch of hair between her legs. He cruelly pinched her clit between his fingers. He then turned his attention away from her brother to better enjoy his new toy. His fingers soon delved deeply into her warm depths and Caran bit his lip to keep from whimpering from the pain he was causing.
Caran writhed in shame as the pain started to give way to a strange warm feeling that slowly spread through her body. She closed her eyes as one of Jenner’s hands began to pinch her nipple. Tears threatened to leak past her eyelids, but she would not give him that satisfaction for as long as she could. He had already seen enough of her tears. Jenner’s mouth soon replaced his hand at her breast. She was unable to stop from whimpering when he bit down hard on her already tender nipple.
Jenner moved her mouth to her other breast, his fingers still inside Caran. He slowly removed them and sat up. He placed them in his mouth and sucked them clean watching Starfox carefully. The young man looked back at him with hate filled eyes. He refused to look away. He would not leave his sister alone in this.
“Mmmm, she tastes wonderful,” Jenner grinned. He then grabbed her hips and drove deep inside her. He laughed as he broke her maiden head and heard Caran whimper in pain. He pumped cruelly into the girl as Starfox called her name in anguish. Jenner had been pleasantly surprised to find he had a virgin to train. That meant she had no bad habits for him to untrain.
By the end of the night, Jenner had Caran crying out in a delicious mix of pain, pleasure, and shame. He felt the shame added a wonderful note to her cries. Sadly, Starfox had only cried out to her the one time and stopped struggling, though the mix of rage and hatred in his face and eyes was very pleasing. Jenner would hand Starfox over to his employer and keep Caran for himself. When he finished with her, he left a bruised and battered Caran where she was. He was well pleased with the night’s entertainment. He fell into his cot for a couple of hours sleep before moving on.
When the bandits broke camp, Jenner wrapped Caran in a cloak and sat her on his horse in front of him. He ordered that Satrfox’s hands be bound in front of him and a lead be connected to them and tied to the saddle. They rode for most of the day. Starfox was dragged anytime he stumbled. By the time they finally made camp, he was bruised, scraped, and bloody.
Current Mood: creative14 comments - Leave a comment
|Aug. 29th, 2002 09:20 am Writing|
Ok, last night I could not sleep for nothing. I was dead tired around 12, or was it one? At any rate, I went to bed, read a little bit, and tried to go to sleep. But I could not sleep at all. I don't think I went to sleep until after four. Then Bobbie woke up yelling at about a quater to six. It took me an hour to get back to sleep. Then the kids were awake at eight. I laid in bed and tried to sleep through them, but it did not work to well. I finally got out of bed at nine when Meny woke up and wanted to come out.
The one good thing to come out of this is an idea. I have decided to write a children's story for my girls. I started it last night. I was hoping to finish it by Sunday so I could show it to my brother. I am hoping he would illustrate it. I am not sure if I am going to try and publish it, or just keep it for the girls.
At any rate, here is what I have so far. It is not as easy as I thought it would be, but it is well worth the effort.
Ayla and her sisters
Once upon a time there was a little girl named Ayla. For two years she was her parents’ only child. Then one day, Mommy told Ayla that she was going to have a little sister. Ayla tried to be excited, but she did not know what a sister was. Papa tried to explain, but finally told Ayla she would just have to wait and see.
Five days before Ayla’s birthday, Mommy had to go to the hospital, the baby was coming. Ayla stayed with a friend while Papa took Mommy to the hospital. When Papa came back, he told Ayla she had a brand new baby sister named Menolly. Ayla was so happy that Mommy was ok she asked to be taken to see her and the baby.
When they got to the hospital, Ayla was amazed at the little baby Mommy was holding. She smiled and laughed as Papa helped her to hold her little sister.
“Hello, Meny,” she said. The baby smiled at her big sister, and that was what the baby was called since Ayla could not say Menolly. After a couple of days, Mommy brought the new baby home.
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|Aug. 27th, 2002 11:38 pm The biggest compliment I know|
I know some people think that the worst insult they can get is to be told they are like thier parents. Personally, I think that is the biggest compliment I can ever get. I know my parents are nopt perfect, but they did thier best by me and my brother, and it is very gratifying to be thought as the least bit like them. I sometimes worry that the way my life has turned out has dissappointed them, but they have assured me that all they trully wanted for me was to be happy. If I can be half the parent to my children that my parents were to me, that will be a great acomplishment.
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|Aug. 21st, 2002 11:53 am Things kids say|
Menolly told me that I did not like her. I have no idea why she said that, and she just says because when I ask her. I told her that I liked her very much and that I loved her very much. *sighs* It just really hurt to think that she believed that I did not like her. She is fine now, and I asked her if she knew I liked her and she said yes. It was very odd. I wish I knew why she had said that.
On a different note, a friend of mine has three kids as well. Her oldest fell off her bunkbed on Friday night and broke her elbow. My friend did not take the child into the doctor until MONDAY thinking it was fine. By moneday, the arm was swollen from elbow to wrist, all red, and developing a bruise on the underdside which had not been there Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. After we got the girl to the doctors and a splint on her arm, my friend told me that she was now jkinda glad she had waited to take her daughter in. Why? Because she had taken her girls school shopping and said that it would have been a real pain to try shirts on for the oldest with a splint on her arm.
Gods! I wanted to backhand her. I could not believe she had said that to me. I know I am not the best parent in the world, but I would not have waited three days to take Ayla in if the same thing had happened. My friend says one of the reasons she waited was because she could not afford a visit. I told Chance that if it had been one of ours, I would have been on the phone to every relative I could begging money to take care of it.
I just do not understand that attittude. *sighs* Oh, well.
Oh yeah, I have started a new job. It is alright. I work the swing shift right now. 3:30pm to 11pm. When my training is done in six to eight weeks, then I will be moving to grave. That is 11pm to 6am. That will suck! Oh well, at least it is a job. The women I work with are all pretty cool, so that is not so bad, but it is real hectic sometimes.
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|Aug. 14th, 2002 01:52 pm Yet another possible start for a story|
I wrote this today in about five minutes. Then the words just stopped flowing. Anyway, I hope you like it.
Memories are odd things. One moment can be so crystal clear in your mind, like it had only just happened, while another can only be recalled as vague impressions. Some of the most easily remembered moments may not even be particularly important, say the ant you watched crawl across your hand when you were a child, yet other more important memories, say your wedding day, are nothing more than a blur. How does our mind determine how much we remember? Why can we not remember everything in perfect clarity? These are two of many questions that have been pondered for ages. No one can say with any certainty why some things stay clear and perfect in our minds while others slowly waste away until they are mere ghosts of memory.
Now, you may be asking yourself, what has all this got to do with the story about to unfold before you. In turn, I have a question for you, what is a story but someone’s memory? History, even, is someone’s memory of what happened in the past.
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