fayanora: Elle Fanning by LJ user bitemeee (Elle Fanning)
So I just got the sudden inspiration to write the following:

My name is Katelynn Hermione Winters, and for most of my life I was an ordinary American girl born and raised in small-town Iowa. I lived an unremarkable life in an unremarkable town in the most boring part of the state. I was neither super-popular nor was I unpopular. I got fair grades but I was never a nerd. Sure, I read for pleasure sometimes, but never anything weird. Just shallow pre-teen kinds of stories, no science fiction or anything like that. Looking back, I wish I had. It might have prepared me for what my life would become.

It happened toward the end of a perfectly ordinary day. I was in my bedroom laying on my back in the bed, talking with my best friend Chelsea on my cell phone about my crush Brandon. Quite suddenly I blinked and everything was different. I was suddenly a 4'5" Vietnamese man wearing a parka and sitting in a grey room surrounded by tall sinister men in tall sinister suits, pointing guns at me and speaking in rapid Hungarian. I tried to ask what was going on and how I'd gotten there, and heard myself speaking Vietnamese. One of the sinister men lifted his gun higher and pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light and a bang, and suddenly I was back in my own body, in my room. But ever since that day, I have had a Vietnamese man named Nguyen Bao living in my head with me. I know only he was the man in the vision, because I don't understand Vietnamese, don't know how to write it or pronounce it to find out what he's saying, and in all these years he has never learned any English; I don't know why.

What's more, Chelsea reported that during the vision part of the phone call I had been speaking rapidly in "some Asian language," a distinct note of panic in my voice. The noise had even gotten the attention of my mom, who was down the hall, though by the time she opened the door, I was standing there, shocked, having just returned from my vision.

He, and the vision I had of him, was the first. He would not be the last. And his wasn't even the strangest vision; in fact, it was the most normal of them all.
fayanora: Djao'Kain (Djao'Kain)
"The Parable of Certainty"
A Shoikinistic Discordian Parable
By = Pope Fayanora Ahnabahn Tahlahmorgk

On the distant world of Traipah, there was a seeker named Fii'Kiin'Ai. This seeker was obsessed with finding the Absolute Truth. Zie1 traveled the whole world over seeking the Absolute Truth, never finding it.

One day, Fii'Kiin'Ai found an Avatar of Shao'Kehn, Goddess of Chaos, Evolution, Change, and Confusion. Since zie had tried everyone else, it seemed only right Fii'Kiin'Ai should try the Avatar of Shao'Kehn.

Fii'Kiin'Ai climbed many steps to reach the dais upon which the Avatar of Shao'Kehn sat. Zir first surprise was that the avatar was not an Ah'Koi Bahnis.2 Zir second surprise was that it was not one of the four-legged, predatory Duenicallo. It was one of the warm-blooded, bipedal reptilians known as Shaokennah (no relation to Shao'Kehn). The third surprise was that the Avatar was asleep. Not meditating, as one might expect of a Great Teacher, but sprawled over the seat with lolling tongue, like Zie had passed out after an all night marathon of caffeine ingestion.3

And so it was that Fii'Kiin'Ai poked The Avatar with a stick to wake Zir up. And lo, the Avatar awoke. But had not been drinking caffeine, and so did not have a hangover (or else poor Fii'Kiin'Ai would have become a bloody heap at the bottom of the stairs).

The Avatar spoke. "Yes, My dear? What do you want?"

"I wish to know the Absolute Truth."

This is long. )

Hope you enjoyed it!
fayanora: Steph Pensive (Steph Pensive)
“A Question of Ethics”
By = Tristan A. Arts


Words - 3619

Note: This is loosely based on an episode of “Angel,” so that's why I'm posting it here instead of attempting to publish it for money. The Zatorshnok are entirely my own creation, though. The story was actually inspired by my wondering what the Zatorshnok would say of the ethical dilemma presented in the episode.

NOTE 2: Zatorshnok is pronounced zah-torsh-nok.

Zatorshnok log entry for 08/12/2489
Entry by: Annik Xandol 88456


      I am making this log with the intent of having it filed with the Earth government, given the events that I and my two siblings witnessed and participated in. If, after reading this entry, the government of Earth wishes to take punitive actions against these three units, we will willingly submit ourselves to whatever punishment is deemed appropriate. We do, however, believe that we were acting in the best interests of justice, at least as we understand the concept. As to why this report is not being filed with the government of Nova Terra, where the incident took place, that will be made clear eventually.
      For the sake of any readers who are unfamiliar with the Zatorshnok Collective, I will relate the relevant overview here for your elucidation. Many thousands of years ago, the sophonts of Zator Alpha were a dying people, being killed by a virulent plague that left few survivors. Their numbers dropped down to a mere 28 individuals, far too few to repopulate the species. These remaining individuals, all scientists who had developed a cure too late to save anyone but themselves, make one last effort to preserve the Zator culture, knowledge, and heritage. Part of this process was to digitize the minds of the remaining scientists, to be downloaded into devices known as “flesh blanks,” a hybrid of biological and technological systems. Nanites amidst the biological components could keep those components alive, young, and healthy for hundreds of years, barring catastrophic damage. With built-in subspace backup units, the death of any one unit is but an inconvenience for the mind inside.
      Even with these new bodies, twenty-eight units were not enough to rebuild an entire civilization. So the 28 Primes, as they are called, uploaded themselves to massive quantum supercomputers, and began churning out copies of themselves by the hundreds. Though there have been occasional new Primes added, for a current running total of 58 Primes, all motile units – regardless of the species of the flesh blank, are copies of one of the Primes.
      Due to the feeding of new information back into the Primes from their motile units, the consciousnesses of the Primes grew in size. Now, only massive Matrioshka Brains set up around stars have the data storage and processing power necessary to hold even a few Primes. As units share data and experiences with their Primes, so do the Primes share these things with one another. Thus was the Zatorshnok Collective born.
      More importantly, to today's log, is that somewhere along the line, the Primes became corrupted from their original templates, resulting in a change of thought patterns. We used to be a vibrant, passionate people with all the varied emotions of biological sophonts, but many now liken us to humorless machines. We have been working on restoring the complexity of emotions we once had, by studying other sophont species, and we have made some progress in correcting the errors, but we still retain a unique perspective and still struggle to interact meaningfully with other sophonts.
      My name is Annik Xandol. I was the result of an experiment performed back in 2304 AD to create new Zator children from DNA replicated from models, as were my two siblings, Yen Xandol and Pokiv Xandol. Because the original Zator species had three sexes, I am sperm-maker, Yen is egg-maker, and Povik is unifier-carrier. Because we were the first batch of a series of these experiments, we are genetically related to one another and not expected to breed. The Collective is still building up a decent breeding population, slowly but surely.
      I say we were the first run of that experiment, but truthfully these units are one of thousands of genetically identical units; the original Annik, Yen, and Povik are now Primes 29, 30, and 31, and in truth I am Annik Xandol 88456. I am stationed on Nova Terra with Yen Xandol 99734 and Povik Xandol 77765.
      Physically, the Zator – like my own flesh blank – are humanoid, with blue scaly skin, yellow eyes, and hands with two opposable thumbs apiece. Males, like myself, have six small, black horns on our heads. Females, like Yen, have a hard, black shell of horn over the top of their craniums. And the unifiers, like Povik, are merely bald with no horns.
      With those necessities completed, I shall now move on to the rest of my story.

Read the rest of the story. )

A note about how I thought up the Zatorshnok: As a mid-continuum multiple collective, there are more things in my head than just the usual 9 Faces. Faces are fully sentient in their own right, but I think most of them (if not all of them) started out as things I call Soul Shards. They're bits of me that float around inside my mind and surface on occasion, making me feel different. These are different from Masks, because Masks are thought-forms I choose to shift into. Neither Shards nor Masks are sentient on their own, as far as I know.

The Zatorshnok mindset is basically lifted lock, stock, and barrel from one of the Soul Shards that occasionally makes itself known. It is a complex thought pattern, that I'm not sure I've done justice to in this story. It's a bit like detached curiosity with a feeling like everyone else is completely alien from me, more so than the Ah'Koi Bahnis mindset. That Shard's sense of ethics and emotional reactions to things are unusual.

Though there are similarities to the Vulcans, I'm not sure how well the two species would get along. Zatorshnok may seem logical and cold, but their logic is tempered by their unusual emotional reactions. The Zatorshnok do not actually suppress their emotions, it's just that their emotions don't work the same way as human emotions.

To be honest, the Zatorshnok mindset is complex enough that I'm not even sure *I* understand it. And I haven't figured out how to really explain it.
fayanora: Fay doll icon by me, original pic by Lady Dark (Fay Doll still)
Prince Mu-Chao just let me know that he loaded the site update I sent him. So now my website has "A Love Deep and Open," "Of The Reformation and Traipah," and "To Teach and To Learn" on it, which can be accessed from this page.

A quick note about "A Love Deep and Open" = WARNING: Contains some adult language and graphic depictions of alien sexuality (humanoid, but still alien).
fayanora: Djao'Kain (Djao'Kain)
Finished writing "To Teach and To Learn," just waiting for Prince Mu-Chao to load it to the site. The story has added something else to Shao-Kehn's list of powers/associations. I guess it was inevitable considering that one of Her Aspects is similar in some respects to Kohraindehr, and there was evidence of it over the years in Her ability to create astounding synchronicities, but still, it was an interesting turn when a black scrying mirror showed up in "To Teach and To Learn." With it, Shao'Kehn can see into possible futures. Though with that one Kohraindehr-like Aspect (the one named Shao'Rain), She might not really need the scrying mirror. *Ponders* Unless Shao'Kehn needs an intermediary between Her and Shao'Rain. Direct input from Shao'Rain might be too much for Shao'Kehn. Merits further exploration.

Oh yeah, and Shao'Driiah, AKA The Dark Maiden, is also in "To Teach and To Learn." Here is the entry about Shao'Driiah:

Rest is under the cut )
fayanora: Hit Girl (Hit Girl)
(This entry was originally written 03/03/2012 at 3:40 AM)

OMG, I finished it! I actually finished it! Do you have any idea what a huge step this is? I've been working on this Yahgahn religion since 1997 (about 14 or 15 years), been practicing it as my own faith/path since 1998, and had the Noiionayya story in my head that whole time (the beginning and other bits of it, anyway). I've lost count of how many attempts I'd made over the years to write it down, how many files I started, got a page or two on it, and abandoned. I feared this attempt would be a failure as well, but I did it! The thing is 13 pages long (single spaced - that's how I write everything), 8614 words long, and has 23 footnotes. Converting it to LJ format is going to be difficult. In fact, I may just convert it to HTML format, which is easier, and send it to Prince Mu-Chao so he can upload it to my website for me. Oh, and if I do that, I have to decide if I want to put a link to it on one of the website's other pages or not. I say it that way because the thing is... well, not rated X, since the sex stuff in it isn't graphic, but there's kink in it, so it's not for minors in this society. (Though I know minors might access that stuff anyway by lying about their age, as I did when I was a minor myself. Ah well, what can be done about that?) Come to that, I guess I *will* list it publicly on the site. Might as well.

Anyway, I'm quite proud of myself. It's a good tale, and it's got that intricacy of interwoven stuff, and those kinds of bits that make it look like I knew what I was doing, when I was really just channeling the thing onto the page like I was taking dictation.

I'm going to read through it now and see if it needs any editing. Of course, I'll have to re-edit it later somewhere with an Internet connection anyway, to fix some of the links in it to go to stuff online, which will involve uploading at least one picture to the Internet. But oh yeah, it should be up and ready to read sometime next week!

This is a major victory for me, against the demons of depression. Now hopefully I can do some of the kind of writing of things I might actually be able to sell one day.

One last thing... there is a note at the end of the Noiionayya which mentions the fact that the Yahgahn religion is quite flexible in regards to alternative versions of the Noiionayya, and additions to the story. Each deity's cult contributes stories of their own which are peripheral, and unofficial. Kind of like fan fiction, but more like Discordian scripture, in that non-canon work is no more or less correct than the canon material, from an official standpoint. Anyway, I only mentioned this because an image popped into my mind:

(An Ah'Koi Bahnis talking to a human about Yahgahn.)
AKB: "I want to show you something." *takes out a slim book, maybe 20 pages long* "This is the Noiionayya, the most recent reprint of the most modern official version. It is the primary sacred story of Yahgahn, chronicling the creation story."
Human: "Okay."
AKB: "And this," *slams enormous book, at least 1000 pages long, onto the table* "is Kohlsiir's Revised Complete Noiionaya With All Official Peripheral Cult Texts, 114th Edition. It contains not only the original Noiionayya, but also all the official versions of all the stories the cults of all 39 deities have contributed. Also, this," *slams a 100-page long book atop that one* "is the endnotes for Kohlsiir's Revised Complete Noiionayya, blah blah blah. The commentaries are in a third book, and that book is over 650 pages long."
Human: "Wow."
AKB: "And if you think that's impressive, you should see 'Kohlsiir's Complete Collected Noiionayya Alternatives, 108th Edition.' That has all the known variations on the original Noiionayya throughout history. Before you even get to the endnotes on that one, you've already got 13 volumes roughly the same length as this 1000 page book I showed you. The endnotes and commentaries bring the volume number up to somewhere around 100. Needless to say, they don't print a lot of those except in ebook format."

I don't think this would be too far from the truth, considering that I've written two Shao'Bahn Order peripherals myself already, and there are at least 16 different Aspects of Shao'Kehn.

Anyway, enough for now.
fayanora: Djao'Kain (Djao'Kain)
The spiritual path I follow, at least the primary part of it, is an alien religion I came up with for the planet Traipah. Called "Yahgahn," it is the dominant religion on Traipah, and has been evolving since I was a freshman in high school, if not longer. It is the source of my main Goddess Shao'Kehn (AKA Djao'Kain), Her consort Ahndahn, and their adopted daughter Nahtahdjaiz.

Yet in all the time I've been practicing this path, I had never written down the Noiionayya, which is the creation myth of the religion. Oh, I'd talked about bits of it, and there are fables and other stories that are peripheral to it (or part of the larger story), but the whole thing itself, I hadn't made any real attempt to write down. Until now. Well, technically speaking, several months ago I made a start, and got three pages into it, and hadn't touched it since. But I'd been thinking about it again lately these last few days, and last night I had an inspiration... one of those late-night inspirations that kept me up until almost 7 AM writing. In one night it went from three pages to six.

Peripheral to that, the list of deities in this religion was, for a long time, limited to 36 deities. But in writing the Noiionayya, two new ones have come up: Traipahnya, deity of the planet Traipah; and Kohr'Vahnyoh, deity of planimals (a kingdom of life on Traipah, they can walk around like animals, and they eat animals for certain nutrients, but they are otherwise plants). Who knows what other deities might be added to the list? Of course, I do feel a little bad sometimes... many of the deities on the list are names I barely remember because I invoke them so infrequently, especially some of the really specialist deities.

Anyway, so far the Noiionayya is unabashedly sexual in nature. This is not a story for children in our culture. In Traipahni culture, they do tell this story to their children, because their society lacks the sex shame of ours and their society is set up in such a way that any kind of abuse is a rare thing. They stick together more, whereas humans stick apart. The people of Traipah are also not as violent as humans. Humans are like the regular chimps, in their violence, and the Ah'Koi Bahnis are like the bonobos.

Well, I'll post the Noiionaya here when/if I finish it. Oh yes, I also wrote a poem in church last Sunday (Unitarian Universalist church) that I'll post here soon.

EDIT: Correction: Shao'Kehn wrote the poem I speak of. But I think we were unified at the time.

Another correction: There are currently 39 deities on the list, not 38.
fayanora: Fay doll icon by me, original pic by Lady Dark (Fay Doll still)
I originally intended this to be flash fiction, but I don't think it's short enough now to qualify.

"Fairy Tales"
By = Tristan A. Arts/ Fayanora

      The hot sun beat down on us as we climbed the steep, rugged, mountainous terrain. We had to stop frequently due to the extreme heat. I would have preferred to have done this at night, but we wouldn't be able to find the place in the dark. I wasn't even sure we'd find it now, to be honest.
      After resting a few minutes, we continued on up the mountain. Luckily, we found a crevasse before long, and it was shady and cool inside. I consulted my map.
      "You know, guys, I think this is the entrance."
      "About damned time. What is it you're looking for, again?"
      "Well, like I explained before, Dave, I've been looking for proof that Faerie exists. I think we'll find it in here."
      "How drunk was I when you convinced me to go with you, Chuck?"
      "Oh shut up and follow me."
      I started up again. Dave, Max, and Charlene followed with audible sighs. At least it was getting cooler the deeper in we went.
      We were several yards in when it got chilly and damp. We were in a cave, and it was getting chilly enough that we stopped and got out our jackets and put them on. The cave walkway was getting narrower and narrower, until finally we had to crawl on our hands and knees to get through.
      "Uh... uh, guys?" Dave said shakily. His voice sounded a long way back.
      I struggled to turn around and look at him. It was difficult to see him behind the others. "What is it, Dave?"
      Dave looked sweaty and terrified. "I... well, I... I didn't realize I was claustrophobic until now. I... I'm finding it hard to... to breathe."
      Oh shit, I thought. I hadn't anticipated that either. "Well okay, Dave. Calm down, and back out slowly. You can wait for us somewhere roomier. We'll wait here until you call out that you're okay again, alright?"
      Dave swallowed nervously. "Y-yeah, okay." I watched him back up until he vanished from my view. Several minutes later, he called out. His voice was faint, but I heard it well enough.
      "Alright guys. Remember, it's perfectly alright to go back if you're uncomfortable in here. Anyone else need out? Now would be the best time."
      Luckily, nobody else needed out. So I continued, and the others followed. It wasn't long before I was very glad that Dave had ducked out when he did, because the cavern got so narrow that even with our backpacks off and tied to drag behind us, we had to crawl on our bellies. If it got any narrower, we were going to have to go back. I was very close to calling it off when the cavern began to widen again. In just a few minutes, we were on our hands and knees again. We were all glad when it suddenly opened into an enormous cave. I lifted my lantern up. The light didn't fill the entire interior, so I had no idea where the other walls or the ceiling were in relation to us.
      Charlene and Max came out and stood up, looking around in awe at the size of the cave. Charlene tried to find the ceiling with a flashlight, and failed. Taking his cue from her, Max got out a pen-sized laser and tried. We were able to spot a small light from the laser on the ceiling above us. I grinned. "Well there's the ceiling found. Good going, Max."
      "Uh, Chuck?" Charlene said, pointing at Max's face. I looked. The look on Max's face was disbelieving. If I had to describe it in one phrase, the best would be the popular Internet phrase "his brain got broken."
      "Max, what's the matter?"
      Max shook his head slowly in disbelief. "This laser make a circle of light bigger than a basketball," he said quietly. "Didn't you see the mountain above us? It doesn't go up high enough to explain this. This is some fucked-up Doctor Who kinda shit."
      He tested the laser light against the nearby walls, and the circle they made was huge. He traced up the wall, the circle getting bigger, then smaller as the distance increased. Finally, it was once again a tiny dot on the ceiling. I didn't know how much the laser spread, but at that distance, anyone seeing it up close would see something a lot larger than a basketball. Yet to us, it was a tiny dot.
      "Fuck..." I agreed. When I finally recovered from my stupor, I shook my head and said, "Well, this just proves I was right! The Fae are real. This is, I dunno, magic or something."
The rest under the cut )

fayanora: Fanning sisters (Fanning sisters)
"The Righteous Man"
Flash fiction by Tristan A. Arts (Fayanora Ahnabahn Tahlahmorgk)

      Aaron James Johnson lay on his deathbed, his adult children gathered around him. He was sad that he wouldn't be able to be in their lives anymore, but he wasn't afraid, for he had been a God-fearing Christian man, doing as the Bible said, living a righteous life. It was only their anguish that burdened him now. They'd said their goodbyes, but they seemed to think if they stayed around, he would too. It tore at him, until he couldn't take it anymore.
      "No no," he insisted, "you go on and get something to eat. You haven't eaten in hours. I'll still be here when you get back." It was a lie, but he hid it well. They nodded and left.
      Once he was certain they were gone, he sighed. Take me, Lord. Don't let them see me die. And without much of a wait, Aaron died.

Aaron's afterlife. (Warning: anti-gay slurs, possibly triggery things) )
fayanora: SK avatar (Default)
For anyone who's read my novel, I recently drew a picture of a minor species, the tripedal Vlayarr:

fayanora: Steph hail satan (Steph hail satan)
A friend of mine expressed interest in the Lo stories and the STC series. For those of you who haven't seen those yet, the STC series is a series of strange stories that I later retroactively gave a background story to, and the background story became the Lo Series. Most of these, you have to be logged in and a friend of mine to read them.

Here's the first STC story, "The Car Wash" = http://fayanora.livejournal.com/146886.html (Lo is in this one, as the car. Q is the rider.)
"Ten Pounds and a Quid" = http://fayanora.livejournal.com/147099.html (Lo is in this one, as the queen)
"Cuddle Monster" = http://fayanora.livejournal.com/147827.html (Lo is one of the cheerleaders)
"Csak Viccelek" = http://fayanora.livejournal.com/155982.html (Victor Jose Stein, AKA Rock, is the boy in this one)
“One Two Buckle My Shoe” = http://fayanora.livejournal.com/178064.html (no Lo story characters in this one)
"Hammerstein" = http://fayanora.livejournal.com/177267.html (no Lo story characters in this one)

Lo Series:

1. “Ten Points” http://fayanora.livejournal.com/149230.html
2. “Choices” (can't locate online copy of)
3. “La Petite Mort” http://fayanora.livejournal.com/145397.html
4. “Kinderliebe” http://fayanora.livejournal.com/145855.html
5. “Braving The Emocean” http://fayanora.livejournal.com/146558.html
6. “The STC” (can't locate online copy of, may be unfinished)
7. “The Date” (can't locate online copy of, may be unfinished)
8. "Snap, Crackle, Pop" http://fayanora.livejournal.com/384975.html
9. "Sutekh Throws A Party" http://fayanora.livejournal.com/249820.html
fayanora: Elle reading (Elle reading)
I've had this idea for a while, never written it down before. Trying now. It's from my "Untitled Novel Number 23"/"Ye Olde Goldyn Appyl Presse" world.

~ ~ ~

"Destroyer of Worlds"
By = Tristan A. Arts

The sky was red as blood, and great pillars of smoke rose into the air. The ground shook so violently that only The Destroyer, a dark humanoid solid shadow, was able to stand, as chunks of rock the size of nations rose violently from the earth and into orbit, magma trailing in their wake. Yet these were but a minor reflection of the greater violence, as the other planets in the system were going through the same violent deaths. Even the sun, which was still young, was in such upheaval that it was about to go nova. Most of the stars in the universe had already exploded, as the very fabric of the universe was seizing and tearing apart. The Destroyer laughed with evil pleasure as the universe burned. The sound would have been haunting, echoing across the stars, had there been anyone left alive to hear it.

The portal was beginning to open. The Destroyer knew it was almost time. Soon would come the final seizure, the last gasp as the entire universe exploded. He would use the power of the dying universe to feed himself and power the portal. Then the same process would begin in the next one. For millions of years, The Destroyer had done this. His power was so great, now, that he estimated the next universe would be dead in a mere week, but the violence would begin almost immediately.

"I AM THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS," his voice shook the universe. "FOR MILLIONS OF YEARS I HAVE DESTROYED UNIVERSES TO FEED MYSELF. MY POWER IS UNFATHOMABLE EVEN TO GOD, AND SOME DAY I WILL DESTROY EVEN THAT PATHETIC ENTITY." The universe gave its last gasp of life then, unfathomable destructive energy funneling into him.

He stepped into the portal, the universe behind him disappearing from existence as he stepped upon the soil of a virgin planet. "PUNY MORTALS, TREMBLE IN FEAR! COWER IN TERROR! LET YOUR HEARTS AND SOULS OVERFILL WITH DREAD, TO SHRIVEL AND DIE FROM PURE DESPAIR!" His laughter echoed across the cosmos, filling all of life with dread that was almost palpable.

Sitting at a table in front of him, watching his melodramatic performance with looks of stunned surprise were Coyote, Eris, Loki, and Saint Gulik, who had been in the middle of a poker game as The Destroyer had come into the world. The first to recover was Eris, who frowned in annoyance at The Destroyer as he continued to laugh. With a casual, back-hand flick of Her arm, The Destroyer shrunk, his deep, booming voice getting higher and higher pitched until it turned into a meow. The small black kitten with red eyes stood there with a look of confusion on its face, meowing.

"Now that I've gotten rid of that annoying insect, we can get back to our game," Eris said, and they paid the kitten no more heed.

Inside his new body, the now-powerless Destroyer bellowed his rage endlessly, but all that came from his mouth was meows. His voice no longer echoed across the stars. Enraged, he ran away into the night, his meows of rage barely audible.

~ ~ ~ END ~ ~ ~
fayanora: Sammi Hanratty classy (Sammi Hanratty classy)
"By The Light of the Moon"
Flash fiction by = Tristan A. Arts

      Sandra went outside to enjoy the cool night air and stare at the sky. She sat back on the stoop, leaning against the porch's wood, and stared at the moon. It was waning in such a way that it looked like a smiley face without eyes. She smiled at this thought, prepared to turn her eyes elsewhere in the sky, when something happened she couldn't quite believe. On the moon, right where the eyes would be on a smiley face, two bright white lights suddenly flared to life, completing the smiley-face. Sandra stared, astonished, and stood up. She had no idea of the exact dimensions of the moon, but knew those lights had to be at least 100 miles apart, and had to have been extremely bright to show up that well here on the surface of Earth.
      She ran up the stairs and into the house to get her boyfriend to come look. By the time she found him, and they were passing the TV on their way out, whatever show had been playing for noise was being interrupted by a breaking news report about the lights on the moon.
      Over the next few days, rumors flew. Pundits and newscasters traded speculation. Politicians said a great many words that essentially amounted to the flummoxed look on the face of a fish suddenly out of water. Everyone wanted to know what the mysterious lights were, who had put them there, and how they'd managed to do it without someone noticing it. Astronomers watching the moon were even more baffled than the politicians. Whatever was there now was too bright to look at without specialized equipment, and there'd been nothing there before. One minute the moon had been just as it always had been, and the next minute the lights appeared.
      All that could be said for certain after several days was that whatever it was had not been put there by anyone on Earth; at least, not by anyone who would admit to it. When this conclusion came out, all the UFO-freaks and alien-lovers and haters took to the streets, some calling out in joy, others protesting in fear.
      Sandra hadn't been the only one to notice the initial smiley-face pattern. Almost everyone, whether they thought good or ill of the lights, was calling them The Eyes. News reports, pundits, even politicians called them The Eyes.
      After a week, nothing new had happened. No one had been able to see anything clearly even with special equipment, and rumors started to fly that the US government was going to send another ship to the moon.
      So it was that Sandra and her boyfriend were looking at the moon on the seventh night, Sandra outlining why she thought they were friendly, when a change happened. After a week of being white, The Eyes turned red.
fayanora: pensive (pensive)
A micro-scene I thought of earlier, I'm debating whether or not to put it in "The Darkness and The Light," which is where it would go best. The canon part of the story is in italics. Oh, BTW, this story is in 1st person (one of only two I've ever done that way) and narrated by Forizano Lysvalo. Here is the micro-scene:

~ ~ ~ Start ~ ~ ~

      We checked into one of the local inns at the heart of the city and paid for several rooms, as we had done at other inns. The servant Gyhrel, a plain man remarkable only for the bright purple hat he wore, parked the carriage and stabled the horses. Arrandine stood guard over the bags while Jedocas and I began to take them up to our rooms, Gyhrel helping out once he'd stabled the horses.
      "A nice inn, this one," Lyria said as we came down from taking up the last load of luggage. "But don't drink the ale. Nasty stuff."
      "Do they water it down," I asked.
      She laughed. "To say they water their ale down is an understatement. They would need an alchemist to transform that swill into actual ale. I do believe that their ale is diluted with so much water, that the water contains only the memory of the ale. I suppose they think it will get their clients drunker that way."
      I must have looked confused at this, for she looked at me and said, "Sorry, more Earth humor. I think I spent too much time there, the place grew on me more than I had expected."
      I nodded politely. I made a mental note, however, to try to make her tell me more about this 'Earth' she keeps mentioning. It had, at that point, been the only place aside from the city of Ahv that she's talked about, with obvious exceptions of Dralakkith, her neighboring countries, and the strange city we were in then. She'd never talked about even her homeland around me, wherever that may be, nor had she ever mentioned its name. I had only been with her for less than half a year at that point, though, so I didn't think too much of it at the time.

~ ~ ~ End ~ ~ ~

And yes, that IS a reference to homeopathy. :-D

Homeopathy joke aside, I like this scene. It has some interesting exposition. It turned out better than it had even in my head.

Anyway, whether I use it or not, I wanted to share the joke. :-D
fayanora: Cyborg velociraptor by Djinni (Cyborg velociraptor by Djinni)
An interesting little something about human lifespan on Orion, the planet Lyria lives on: the presence of magic makes humans live longer than they would without it. Even if they don't use magic, just being exposed to ambient magic all one's life makes one healthier and longer lived, and retards the aging process. How long a non-mage (mage being someone who uses magic) can live, I haven't decided yet. Probably, though, most people regularly survive their hundredth birthday (in Earth years. I don't know how long an Orion year is yet. I should probably get on that). You know how people say things like "50 is the new 40"? Well 100 is the 50 of Orion. Which I guess means non-mages could live to be 200. Yeah, I like that. I'm going with that.

As for human mages, I had already decided that 1,000 Earth years is the upper limit for their life-span. Technically, a mage could live longer than 1000, but without significant modifications to the brain/body, they'd be completely senile for anything past 1000. Senility becomes a serious risk around age 930 or so.

Oh, and I might slip in a little bit about one specific part of the Bible being true: Methuselah and other long-lived humans really existed on Earth, once upon a time; they were mages. This was back when magic was just as potent on Earth as it is on Orion. But at some point after Jesus Christ's life, something happened that all but killed magic on Earth. Magic has been slowly recovering ever since.

Back to Orion's year... Orion is a strange planet. It was artificially created by the Vecerti (Gods). It could not exist without magic, either, as it is impossibly big. It has the surface area of Jupiter, and is hollow (reducing its gravity), supported on the inside by a shell of adamantium, and adamantium beams. There are life-forms that live in the hollow realm, and there are portals extant to go back and forth between the surface and the Hollow.

With that already existing weirdness in mind, I think I'm going to add to that weirdness. It's probably a massive violation of the laws of physics, but hey, Orion already is; Orion's year is basically the same as an Earth year, and its day is just slightly longer than Earth's day... hmm... maybe a 30 hour day? With 15 hours of night and 15 hours of daylight? Hmm... sounds about right. Of course, this makes an Orion week 42 hours longer than an Earth week. *ponders* *shrugs* (Also, a 31 day month on Orion is 186 hours longer than one on Earth. Which means that if they used a similar calendar, their year is 91.25 days longer than ours. Any math beyond that point gets me into Ye Olde Realms of Confusion.)

Why I made Orion so weird, when I first thought of it, I'm not really sure. Though it IS one of the biggest battlefields in the wars between the Gods.
fayanora: flutterbyes (flutterbyes)
Last night I got only 4 hours of sleep, because I stayed up too late and had to get up at 6 AM to start getting ready to go to jury duty. I was tempted to not go, but I went. Had I known what it would be like, I would have taken my laptop or a book or something. We watched a video about the jury process, and then it was hours of boredom. All I had with me was an almost-depleted MP4 player. So I asked for some paper and a... fucking hell, what do they call those boards you clip papers on? One of those. Didn't know what to write, so I made a list of things to remember to take with me at all times in case boredom were to rear its hideous head. I'm doing one of the things on that list now: emptying my old MP4 player of music and putting text files and movies in it. (I have two MP4 players, my old 2 gigger, and my 16 gigger.) Also loading Animaniacs on it.

After making the list, I started playing around with ciphers. But that got boring. On my way to the bathroom, I spotted tables, and was like "FUCK YEAH!" because I love tables, and hadn't been at one before (and my left hand was cramping). So I moved over there. After sitting for a while, I got an idea. So I started writing a "back story" short story about how Lyria and a character named Jarnion first met. (Which coincidentally takes place when Lyria first moves to Dralakkith.) I made a pretty good start on it before they let everyone go but 14 people. This after not a single person in the whole room of 200+ people was even interviewed for jury duty. And none of us have to do jury duty again for 2 years. How is it they haven't run out of potential jurors yet?

After jury duty was over, it was noon and I was getting hungry. But I went to the Trimet ticket office and got a 14 day bus pass. (I had been sick early in the month, so missed getting a monthly pass, and was getting tired of using tickets.) Then I wandered around for a while trying to decide where to eat. Went to a place called Chipotle, which is a Mexican restaurant that uses organic, local, and free range ingredients (but prices are comparable with [other] chains). It's a popular place; the line went around the inside of the place and up to the door. I ordered a chicken burrito with hot sauce, black beans, rice, and sour cream. MMM mmm mmm that's good! But I waited a bit too long to find somewhere to eat. By the time I sat down, I was having a case of the hunger shakes. But I think the busy atmosphere was working on me, too, because even after half the burrito and a bunch of pop was in me, I was still shaky. Usually, hunger shakes stop after the first few swallows. I felt better once I left the place, though.

On my way home, I went to FredMeyer's (mainly because I got off at the wrong stop and didn't want to backtrack) and found this awesome thing: it's this AC adapter thingy where you can charge two USB devices at the same time by plugging it into an outlet. I have my 16-gig "liePod" (Coby brand MP4 player) charging with it right now. It's pretty awesome.

Because I need a place to go to write, and Panera closes earlier than it used to, I'm going to try this place called Biddy's. It's right on the 71 line, and it's open til 2:30 AM. Not gonna stay there that long, since I'll want to take the bus back home, but good to know I could, if I really wanted to. I know from previous experience that they have wifi, which is good. I have a lot of writing tools I use, which are online.

Oh, and one other thing. Last night, as I was trying to get to bed, I was cuddling with Dakota Bear. I got up to make sure the door was locked, and when I came back, I saw the cutest thing:

Cut for size )

I swear, it was a total accident; I didn't pose that at all. Soooo adorable!
fayanora: SK avatar (Default)
Oliver Twist walks up to the man ladeling out the gruel, his bowl empty (he having eaten his portion), and looked up plaintively at the man. Once he had the man's attention, he spoke.
"Please, sir, may I have some more?"
"More? You want MORE?"
"Well, not really. I mean, I doubt this swill meets the nutritional needs of growing children. It's just hot cereal - grains - that has gone kind of cold and mushy. So you've covered the bottom of the food pyramid, but we still need a variety of fruits, vegetables, proteins, and fats. Maybe if you put some blueberries or strawberries in it, and served it with bacon or sausage, we'd be making some progress towards a balanced breakfast. And for dinner, some green beans, or steamed broccoli, or steamed carrots, and some ham slices or Salisbury steak. Mashed potatoes would go well with it, too. Maybe a little butter. Oh, and we'll need something to drink; milk would be a good idea, I think."
"..."
fayanora: SK avatar (Default)
I was majorly bored earlier, bored out of my everloving mind. So I said Fuck It and went on a walk. Well, went to Ira's Deli to pay my electric bill first (it's a service they provide, they charge $2 for it {plus the cost of the bill of course}) because why not? From there, I went up to Sandy. From Sandy I went along 72nd (I think) and happened across a school I'd never seen before. Elementary or middle school, I couldn't tell for sure. But it was odd because I used to walk in that area frequently when I lived with Lilla, and had never seen that school before. Mainly because you have to actually go down that particular street to see it, which I had never done before. I'd walked along Sacramento before, but never been down that part of 72nd until today. So until I knew where it was in relation to Sacramento, it was a major WTF for me, especially since it was a fairly large school.

From there, I went along the path between Sacramento and the golf course, then up the stairs to Sacramento. I was perplexed that I went up those stairs without even breathing very hard; I used to go up those steps a LOT because they were part of the shortest path from our apartment at the time, to Brooke's... and every time I'd been up those stairs before, it was with lots of huffing and puffing and rest periods even before getting up them all the way. But today, I went right up them without a problem. I'd like to say it was due to my being more in shape, but truth is I'm probably in worse shape now than I was back then. I finally figured out the only reason I took the steps so well that time was because I'd already been walking for about an hour, so I was nicely warmed up. Oh, now that I think about it, those stairs are only about half the climb from the old apartment. The path I used to take goes uphill, then downhill, then uphill again before getting to the stairs, and it's one hell of a climb before you even get to the stairs; in fact, I'd say it's about 75% of the climb to Sacramento.

From the stairs, I went straight ahead to Sandy, turned right and went down to the area of Safeway, rested for a time, and then trudged up Fremont, turning right at 70th. Walked to Prescott, went the rest of the way home from there.

I'm glad I went on a walk, too. It was warmer than usual today, and just the right amount of light. And for most of my walk, I was working out some plans for my Lyria stories. Walks help me think. Or rather, they remove me from any distractions so I can think about things I don't normally devote time to, such as roadblocks in my writing. A walk is no guarantee of an answer, of course; I'd done at least one or two other walks, before I got ill, to try to solve the problems with the Lyria stories. Finally came up with the solutions this time around. Mainly, the problem was this: I knew I couldn't restrict the stories to short story format anymore. It was time to switch to novel format. But how to do that, and integrate the existing stories? I couldn't just string them all along in order I wrote them; for one thing, the first Lyria story I wrote ("Mother") doesn't have Forizano in it, and I wanted to introduce readers to Lyria through Forizano. Also, "Mother" was basically an experiment; I was trying out the characters to see how well they worked. And I didn't want to reveal too much about Lyria too soon, so going back into her past to start the novel wasn't the way I wanted to go.

Anyway, I solved those problems, worked out if "Mother" could be put into the novel anywhere, and came up with enough of an outline to get started on the process of converting the stories to novel form. So it was a productive walk. But I'm a bit tired. I'm just gonna write down some notes and then take a nap.
fayanora: Steph Pensive (Steph Pensive)
"So Many Words"
By = Tristan A. Arts
Number of words: 1150

      Susan closed the door behind her and leaned on it as though she'd never see her apartment again, and stood there struggling to catch her breath. In truth, she was trying to regain her composure, to fight the panic down into some semblance of submission. She caught her reflection in the outside door, and knew she looked like hell. Her mid-length black hair was such a mess she looked like she'd slept for the past three weeks without bathing once. The dark circles under her eyes contradicted this, saying she'd not been sleeping, or not getting restful sleep anyway.
      Muttering curses under her breath, she fumbled with the keys to lock the inside door, closed the outside door, and manically finger-combed her hair into some kind of order quickly, rushing away from the apartment. She tried to tune out everyone's words as she did so; she didn't want to hear any of it, and things were about to get worse.
      Referring constantly to the directions she'd written on the back of an old receipt, Susan blundered around the neighborhood trying to find the bus stop she needed. When she finally found it, she sat down on the bench and fought tears. She felt physically sick at the thought of taking the bus, but this was something of an emergency. The truck she drove for work (semi-trailer) was in the shop; she had to pick it up today and get back on the road, but she couldn't afford a cab. At least it was quiet at the bus stop, only a few people now and then walking by. She heard them, too, but it was easier to tune out with the sound of traffic ebbing and flowing. Susan began to wish she'd taken up smoking, so she could have something to soothe her nerves.
      By the time the bus pulled up, Susan had to pull herself out of an upright version of the fetal position before she could board. She took her pre-prepared bus money out of one of the pockets in her purse and gave it to the machine. Susan liked machines; machines were usually quiet. The bus driver gave her a ticket, and she sat down in the front, since there weren't many people there. Not that it helped much; the whole bus was abuzz with all their words, like a very large hive of noisy insects, buzzing louder the longer she was stuck with them. An almost physical sensation, the buzzing vibrated her entire being in a very uncomfortable way. It made her itch all over, and she also felt very dirty, like the words were filth seeking her out. Only silence could cleanse her of it, and she could never find enough silence, could never get clean. She twitched and squirmed in her skin, trying with all her willpower to not cry, to not scream, to not scratch the itches so hard that her skin bled. As if she needed them thinking she was on meth or some other drug. She had to remain invisible; their concern would only make the buzzing louder and more obnoxious.
      Halfway there, a man about 60 years old got on board. He sat behind her and started chatting with some other people. Susan pinched the bridge of her nose. His words were two-edged. They echoed, in Susan's mind, because of the fraction of a second's lag between the words in his mind and the ones that came out of his mouth. His spoken words were very loud, painfully so, and his mental words were even louder. If everyone else was a hive of buzzing insects, this man was a nest of Japanese hornets all on his own, and someone was playing it over a bullhorn.
      As if this weren't bad enough, the people he was talking at were not interested in his nattering. This, and his intense volume, made their own buzzings get louder in return. Now the bus felt like it was the essence of noise, distilled. She was drowning in itchy, filthy noise. It would no doubt seep into every empty space in her being; she would never get clean, no matter how much silence she could find. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she was grinding her teeth. Not wanting to attract attention, she covered her face in her hands.
      Hoping he would get off soon, or that the bus driver would tell him to stop, Susan tried to endure. But he just wouldn't stop. Whatever it was he was talking about, he must have felt entitled to assault people with his words. Loud enough to be a nuisance to others, to Susan it was like being in the trenches at WWII, only louder and dirtier. She itched so bad she wanted to rip her skin off down to the muscle. Instead, she rocked back and forth as gently as she could to avoid attracting attention.
      Susan fantasized, as much as she could spare the mind power to, about having a psychotic episode right there on the bus. She'd had them before. She'd been given lots of different medicines, but none of it ever worked; the words just kept coming.
      She'd been through too much to snap from this. But something had to change. She steeled herself, fought for every last ounce of self-control, and slowly turned to the loud man. "Please shut up," she said. "No one wants to hear your loud and annoying nattering."
      He turned to her, his hand to his ear. "What was that?"
      Louder, she said, "I said PLEASE SHUT UP. Nobody wants to hear you talking. You are loud and obnoxious and your words are painful. PLEASE. BE. QUIET!"
      The older man looked hurt, but faced the floor and was silent. A variety of cheers sprang up briefly from the others, which made the noise level spike for Susan, but then they were quiet and things died down to a level just a little bit higher than when she'd gotten on.
      At long last, she stumbled out of the bus, regained her composure as it drove off, and she prepared to walk the rest of the way to get her truck. Before she could, though, she noticed that the old man had gotten out with her. He was the only one nearby, so she could clearly hear his internal words. What she heard saddened her, made the whole situation even more awkward.
      Susan shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. "Sorry, dude, about before. I just... I can't stand buses to begin with, and you were being loud and making the whole thing even harder to cope with. I hope you find someone to talk about... whatever it was... with, someone who can listen and be interested." She began to walk away, finishing with, "I used to know the loneliness of the quiet."
      The older man half-smiled despite himself, as she walked away.

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