Sweetcherrie

Sweetcherrie had been looking with interest while Epinephrine had been doing the math, and had even tried to follow it on her fingers. Unfortunately math had always been her worst subject, so it didn’t take long before she had tied a firm knot in her fingers, and had given up on the calculation. It didn’t matter; she knew that he was wrong anyways. Any child knew that 1 + 1 was 2. One birthday for Mynx, and one birthday for Falcon. Sweetcherrie walked forward and huggled the big kittycat, “Congratulations Mynx :woot: and I hope many more will follow!” without stopping for breath she bounced over to Falcon, “Congratulations Falcon, enjoy the fact that you’ve just survived another year ”

"Congratulations, and I wish you a happy future eldership" Sweetcherrie looked what she had written, it looked as if Ayshela just had a baby, and even if she just gained a whole community to take care of, this still didn’t feel right. WIth a big black marker she crossed it out and started over. “Congratulations and I wish you good luck in the future” Err…now that felt as if it would be hazardous to be an elder… Sweetcherrie thought about this for a moment, and thought of what she had read about being an elder. It seemed dangerous sometimes to be one. But if she put it this way, Wyvern might start asking for extra pay, and she was sure that people wouldn't be happy with that. Oh well, she would just have to keep it simple. “Congratulations Ayshela, we don’t know each other too well yet, but I hope we will get to know each other soon.” Hmm... a bit formal, but it would do. Sweetcherrie stuck the note to the wall and had taken two steps before she decided that she had forgotten something. She bounced back in and gave Ayshela a big hug before bouncing back out. Now that was more her style OOC: erm, hmm...nothing to add really

Sweetcherrie was relieved it had been nothing serious. Or well, of course it was serious, but at least it was nothing badly serious. It was goodly serious. At this point she told her brains to stop rambling, and it sunk in that she had just been promoted. A happy “yay” escaped her mouth, and she launched herself at Patrick and drummondo to huggle and congratulate them. She turned back to Gyrfalcon “Thank you very much” she said on a more dignified tone, “and I will do my very best to live up to this title, but, erm…can we now throw a small party?” Gyrfalcon smiled and nodded. Sweetcherrie started dancing again and pulled Patrick and drummondo along with her. In the corner of her eyes she saw the almost dragon approach, but before he could say a word she had tacklehugged him as well, “Have any good party stuff in that suitcase of yours?” she winked at him.

She listened until she heard her father’s snore, and quietly snuck out of the house. She moved quietly, but swiftly through the dark streets until she reached the outskirts of the city. She walked through the forest, as she had done many times before. Only the cult knew where the cult was, and still being a member did not mean you automatically knew where to go. The entrance of the caves was well hidden, and Caleb didn’t trust many people. Jasmin crouched down in the bushes and listened intently if she hadn’t been followed. Nathan was dozing off in a tree when he heard someone approach. They all said he was weird, strange, crazy to sleep in the forest in the trees, between the leaves, high up in the branches, oh yes, they all thought it, and most of them said it as well, but only the Torn One knew that he was guarding the entrance, seeing that nobody found it who didn't have to know about it, always ready to stop anyone, kill them dead if they knew too much, to protect the Torn One and the secrets of the Cult. But this one he didn't have to kill, he could let her enter, the Pretty One was always allowed to go in, she didn't have to be stopped, she was safe and allowed and okay. Nathan held his breath and tried not to move, tried to sit still, so that she wouldn't hear him, wouldn't discover him sitting up in the tree, wouldn't know about him guarding the entrance. When Jasmin was sure that she was alone, she moved towards the tree that was covering the entrance with its branches. The tree had been hit by lightning years before, but had started growing again. The misshaped form was almost touching the floor, and perfectly covered the crack in the floor that gave entrance to the caves. She squeezed herself through the narrow opening and made sure that the branches were back in place before she continued to the main cave. “Even knowing how to find the entrance wouldn’t be of much help,” she thought as she found her way through the maze of caves and sidetracks. Finally she saw the shadows of a fire at the end of one of the tunnels. She stepped out in the darkness, and saw Caleb sitting next to the fire. Caleb sat listening to the soft footsteps approaching. From the sound he could tell that it was Jasmin, and from the sound her breathing made he could tell that she wasn't surprised he knew, “elco'e, Jas'in. Ha'a sseat.” He looked at her and lifted the corners of his upper lip in that ghastly grin of his while she sat down, “What news?” “The daughter of Hion will be investigated,” She said shortly, “So tell me when will be the next ceremony?” She looked at Caleb; she admired him more than he would ever know, more than he was ever allowed to know. Lambert was only for pastimes, and she knew that she would probably never get a shot at the big boss, but power was fatally attractive. "The next cer'ony? In three dayss ... and it'll 'e a grand one, with a ss'ecial ssurrise." He had the impression that she hadn't asked just out of interest ... but he decided that if she wanted something, she'd have to ask. “I was wondering-“ Jasmin nervously flicked her long black hair over her shoulder, “if I could erm…play a special role, next time.” She got the impression that Caleb was inwardly grinning, but it was hard to read him. She fiddled with her necklace, and hoped that this would draw his attention to her breasts, “You see...I would really like to hold the knife once…” Caleb let his gaze wander over Jasmin's body, and then stared into the fire without saying a word. Let her wonder what he was thinking for a few moments ... she had the guts to ask him for a favour, but she should learn to hide her uncertainty more. From the corner of his eyes he could see her struggling with it, but he waited for her to draw breath to break the silence before he spoke himself, interrupting her before she could say a word. "It wass 'out ti'e you sstarted to re'eal your aitions. Tell you hhat ... 'ring one o' the 'eggars to'orrow hhor 'ractise and you can use it ... i' you do well. 'ring hi' to the stone roo'." Jasmin was filled with pride, he thought she was ambitious and he appreciated it, “I will find a beggar,” She thought. “What time do we meet at the stone room tomorrow? The usual?” Caleb nodded shortly, for him the conversation had ended. Jasmin resisted the urge to throw herself in his arms, stood up, and left the cave the same way she had come. Caleb kept his eyes on Jasmin as she left and once more grinned his ghastly grin. The real test would not be the sacrificial practise tomorrow ... he was sure she'd pick the right beggar and that she'd be able to kill him in the proper way. No, the real test would be the ceremony itself. It would be interesting to see how she reacted to the prophet's message ... and to the prophet herself. If she did well, she'd definitely increase her status.

ditto

Jasmin re-arranged the flowers on the table and made sure that the cutlery was shining. She looked forward to dinner with her dad, and on evenings like this she tried to forget that he was stupid enough not to believe in the cult. In the past there had been many times where she had almost told him that she was a member, but she knew now, after ten long years, that he would never change his views. She sighed, after her mom had died, he had become even more intent on catching them. But tonight they would have dinner together, and it would almost be like old times. She went back inside and checked on the Baranna, it was looking almost ready, and just when she took it out of the oven, Garrick came home. “Hey sweetie,” he kissed his daughter on her cheek, “had a good day?” While Jasmin told of her adventures at the market that day, handily leaving out Lambert, he unbuttoned his uniform jacket, and hung it over a chair. His mind was still going over the conversation he’d had with the old folks that afternoon, and he had to force himself to listen to what Jasmin was saying. “…and then I ran into Miarna, she kept on talking about Larusso, dad, and about how he could have been still alive, if only he would have not been so stubborn in saying no to the cult.” Garrick snapped out of his thoughts, “I’m sorry, what did you say about Larusso?” Jasmin sighed, she should have known her dad wasn’t here with his thoughts; the only way to get his attention was to mention the cult, if only he knew. “I said that Miarna Ann, you know Hion’s daughter, she was saying that Larusso should’ve joined the cult. I think you should check her out, dad, she seemed to know more of it.” Garrick nodded thoughtfully, “But I don’t want to talk about the cult tonight. So tell me, what’s for dinner?” he winked at his daughter, “I was hoping for some of that excellent Baranna of yours.” Jasmin glowed with pride, and served the warm fish stew with elegance.

The colours were possibly even louder than the sales people who shouted out their specials of the day, but Jasmin loved the markets down town. She had gone to buy the ingredients for tonight’s dinner; she wanted to cook Baranna, and needed fresh fish for this. To make sure that she would get a fresh salmon, and fresh spices, she had left early that afternoon. Once she had everything on her list, she allowed herself to wander around a bit. She was just looking at some very fine fabrics, when she felt two strong arms being wrapped around her, accompanied by Lambert's hello whistle. It was pure coincidence that he was here as well, since usually he was working in the smithy at this time. Thinking to himself how fortunate it was that he had overslept today, he grinned at Jasmin when she turned around. She shook his arms off of her and smiled a half icy smile, “Lambert, how nice to see you.” They’d been going out for a couple of months now, and although he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen, he wasn’t one of the smartest. This, however, suited her nicely as she wanted to be in control of most things, and the fool was so in love with her, that he ran at her every little command. She dragged them out of sight into a shadowy corner, and let him work his magic. Right before Jasmin wanted to leave again, Lambert stopped her. With a slightly irritated look in her eyes she turned back to him. "I also had a message for you ... " Lambert held his lower lip and gave a bad imitation of Caleb's speech, "Tell Jas'ine that the old 'ans daughter needs to 'e ... taken care o'. She'll kno'at you 'ean." Jasmin frowned, pushed Lambert away from her, and mumbled, “So Caleb wants me to do the dirty work again, heh?” She seemed to think about it for a minute, and then faced the boy that was still sheepishly grinning at her, “Tell him, I want a special part in the next ceremony.” Lambert nodded eagerly and wondered whether he should go back immediately, or later that night as Caleb had instructed. He decided on what would probably be the safest course of action - he'd go back after work. After all, he was already late, and Caleb didn't like anyone drawing attention to themselves, or not doing exactly what he said. "Of course Jasmin, I'll tell him. But I'd better go to work now - mr Faltermeister is probably wondering where I am." Jasmin sighed, “Now Lambert, mr Faltermeister can wait.” She saw Lamberts face twist in doubt, “oh forget it, I’ll tell Caleb myself. I need to see him tonight anyways.” She snapped and turned her back on him. When Jasmin saw Lambert looking like a puppy that's just been kicked by its favourite owner, she sighed and hugged him to make him think that she didn't really mean it. He didn't see the face she pulled behind his back, and when he went off to the smithy he was as happy as ever.

Garrick locked the incident with the beggar into a small part of his brain. He would look at it later, but for the moment he had more pressing matters to think about. He continued on his way to the lieutenant's family, and tried to think ahead of what he would say. He’d never been any good with these sorts of things, and never knew what to say to someone who had just lost a dear one. In his head he was still rehearsing how he was going to bring it, when he noticed that his legs had already carried him to his destination. Garrick took a deep breath, and knocked on the half rotten, wooden door. The house he was standing in front of was small, and seemed to almost fall apart. The shutters were hanging half crooked on their rusted hinges, and large cracks were running from the roof to the ground. This neighbourhood carried a constant smell of excrements, and the sharp sting of rotting garbage was creeping up his nose. Shouts were coming from the open doors of a lowlife bar at the end of the street, and somewhere a dog was howling miserably. The door opened and an old, wrinkled woman clad in black was standing in the doorway. Her crown reached to his shoulder, and he could see that this was because father time had given her a hunchback. “Miss Larusso?” “Yes?” “Your son used to work for me m’am, I’m General Haly...” His voice trailed off a bit when he realised that, although he had known Larusso pretty well, he had never met his parents before. He felt a mixture of guilt and pain thinking about Larusso’s death, even more so now he was standing in front of his mother. “Ah, yes. My son spoke about you with great respect, and he was always proud that he was working for you, sir. Would you like to come in?” The old lady stepped back, and Garrick bent down his head to step inside through the low port. She guided him through a dark hallway into a surprisingly clean and light living room. A man, who looked even older than the woman, was sitting in a chair by the stove. When Garrick entered the room he hurried himself to get up and enthusiastically shook the general’s hand. “I’m very honoured to finally meet you, sir. Our son has told us much about you, all good of course.” He grinned a toothless grin, “Please, sit down.” With a hand that was deformed by the obvious effects of rheumatism, he ushered Garrick into the chair that he himself had occupied just moments before, and sat down in the chair opposite. “My sincere regrets for your son.” Garrick said. A sad shadow fell over the man’s face, and his wife put her hand in front of her mouth. “It’s all that girls fault,” she whispered, “that…that…Miarna Ann Emereus." The name had come out as if she was chewing on a very sour lemon, "If she wouldn’t have filled his mind with all that cult stuff he would still be-“ her voice broke, the thoughts of her deceased son were obviously becoming too much for her. “There, there, mammy. We don’t know if it was her.” he patted his wife’s hand. “I’ve never liked her, she wanted to took our son away from us.” “Please excuse my wife, sir, she’s not been feeling too well since we’ve heard the news.” The man tapped his wife’s hand warmly and looked at the general with his watery blue eyes. Garrick didn’t feel at ease, he knew that the old man had given him his chair, and he suggested that he would probably better leave, but the old people got up at the same time, and told him that he was no bother, and asked if he wanted another cup of the tea-like, but cheaper, lilt. Garrick sighed inwardly, but smiled and said yes.

I felt every little bump in the road, and my stomach was getting more and more upset. Silently wishing that we would arrive soon, I turned the page of the magazine. It was amazing how much information you could find about people in these glossies. I thought back of Ben my third husband. There had only been a small article about him in Business Newsweek. It had said that he had recently received a new heart, and that everybody had been relieved that the multimillionaire was doing reasonably well. I looked up at the officer across from me and wondered if he had any money. He looked relatively cute, but was a bit too young for my taste. I preferred men that were closer to their natural death. “Say cutey, are we going to be there anytime soon?” I asked, when I noticed that he was staring at my breasts. His face turned red when he realised that I had seen him. My breasts have always been one of my biggest assets, although I have always known exactly how to make a man notice me. I chuckled inwardly; this knowledge had certainly made life easier. “We’ll get there when we get there” I looked at the other officer. He must be in his forties and if the saying that people start to look like their dogs was true, he surely had a bulldog at home. The van hit another bump and before I could stop it my stomach turned inside out. My previous meal was now lying on the bulldog’s lap, and his face was turning purple. “Oh, I’m so sorry” I said, but winked at he cute officer. He winked back; apparently we both didn’t like his colleague. “Sam, please make a stop at the next gas station, I can’t arrive looking like this!” He shouted to the driver. The driver shouted back that they had already passed the last one, and asked if he had to turn back. The bulldog grumbled, which even heightened the resemblance, and said that they couldn’t arrive late. My stomach felt a whole lot better now I had gotten rid of its contents, and it was funny to see the officer struggling to accept the fact that he would have to arrive covered in puke. I stuck my magazine inside my prison overall, and hoped that they would use more fashionable colours in the next place, grey just wasn't my colour. I sat back, and for the rest of the ride I stared at the handsome officer.

*giggles* it made me think of a product they used to sell in the supermarkets here. It was a sort of white fluffy stuff that was meant to be put on sandwiches. Unfortunately it was hell to first of all get your knife in when it had been too cold (since it went hard as a brick), and when you had finally managed to scrape some out of the jar it was a fight to get it from the knife on the sandwich without killing the bread. I normally ended up spooning it out of the jar, without having sandwiches with it, almost as good as eating chocospread with a spoon Guess this wasn't what you were looking for, and Peredhil's reply makes more sense, but hey you asked

Sweetcherrie saw a foot coming through the door and jumped back. The next moment she was staring at Loki, who was lying on the floor, his foot still stuck in the door, and clutching his stomach with his hands. She tilted her head to look at him. “I guess that it’s you that needs some help now” she took his foot and pushed it back through the hole. Sweetcherrie hardly had time to thank him from freeing her, before he ran inside the toilet. She hesitated for a moment, but then heard sounds that made it very clear that he wouldn’t want help from her now. She walked back inside only to discover that there was a hooded figure sitting where she had planned to sit. Looking around for a free table she noticed what a chaos it was. Wyvern was snoring loudly and the place looked as if there had been some sort of fight. Mynx’s owls were hooting shrilly while she was running around to serve people their drinks, and it was clear that she was very busy. Sweetcherrie sighed and looked for someone that looked calm enough to tell her what had been happening, when she saw Peredhil. He was sitting at a table and looked lost in though, but next to him there was an empty chair. She decided to ask if she could take that chair, and started walking in his direction. After zigzagging through the room, carefully avoiding Nyyark and Fountain who were just putting one of the tables back on its legs, she arrived at his table. “Is this seat taken?” she asked with a smile.

The noise had grown quieter after Revery’s announcement that a new judge was needed, and had slowly gone to a murmur. Sweetcherrie decided that if she were ever going to get out of these toilets it would have to be now. She started banging on the door again, and shouted for help. Her hands were already sore from the banging she had done earlier that night. She had arrived before all the others, because she wanted to be sure of a good seat. She had hung up her coat, and had decided to quickly use the toilet before everything started. But when she wanted to get out again, the knob had come loose and she was locked in. She didn’t want to disturb the poets by her banging on the door, and in between the poems nobody had heard her. At least she’d had enough time to think about them while she was sitting on the toilet, hoping that someone would notice that the door had been locked all evening. She had even made mental notes on them, and was going through them in her head while she kept banging on the door. Personally she had really liked Cryptomancer’s “To morning I summon my heart”. It had made her feel as if it had been herself dragging her feet along the chosen path. The imagery used had made the poem nice to listen, and it flowed well. She also liked the way he had used repetition, and how this had even heightened the feelings of tiredness that the poem evoked. Than there was of course Loki Wyrd’s “This is take-out”. His poem had a totally different style, but she thought the image of greasy-haired teenagers in the back of a car, grabbing in a brown bag and stick hands full of French fries in their mouths was really good. She had been laughing on the toilet about the image the poem had created in her mind. The laugh had sounded hollow, and had reminded her that it wasn’t funny at all to be locked inside a toilet. When Gabriel had started reading she had first been surprised about how the voice had sounded, but then realised that she was only hearing the words in her head. The poem had a neat structure and had left her with a feeling of longing, although she wasn’t entirely sure if that was just the sudden absence of the voice in her head. Mira’s “Deadalus Son” had also been good, but somehow it had felt as if there was something missing. Of course the story told in the poem was familiar and she had really liked his use of what she thought was called alliteration, but it had felt less alive to her. About Drummondo’s “troubled” Sweetcherrie decided that this poem was good, but that she missed a certain structure in it. The use of assonance had been good in places, but in others it had failed to convince her, and the power of the poem had diminished because of this. She smiled at this poet’s enthusiasm; he had sounded eager, almost as eager as her pounding on the door sounded now. Sweetcherrie shouted for help again, and finally heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

Sweet grew restless in her chair and decided that there was not enough action in this poker tourney. She decided that what it need was some stirring up, and started thinking about how she was going to do this. In the meantime she ordered a new glass of lemonade. The waitress arrived and put the glass down at the table. Sweet picked it up, and could feel it sliding through her fingers. With a loud crash it landed on the table, the drink spilled over the chips and wet the cards that were lying on the table. “Oops sorry,” she jumped up to save the cards and in her hurry she mixed Wyvern’s and Patrick’s cards together. Wyvern started protesting loudly, and Patrick’s eyes grew wider. “What are you doing, I had a winning hand,” Sweet didn’t know it was possible but the almost dragon’s face started to grow red, at the foresight of losing the round. “I’m so sorry,” She looked at the cards, “Which ones were yours?” Wyvern looked as if he wanted to protest more, but didn’t seem able to speak any longer. Sweet started wiping the spilled drink of the table with her sleeve, and kept apologizing. She turned around to ask the waitress for a cloth, and bumped straight into YanYan who was still holding the jewel in his hand, but now dropped it….straight into Parmenenion’s drink. “Ayeayaeaye” Sweet mumbled and glared around afraid of what would happen now the gem had fallen into the whiskey.

I'm a student, and although I grumble at a lot of my teachers, I have to admit that there are actually some pretty cool teachers around. These are the people that are passionate about their profession, and this shows in their courses. These are the teachers that I love learning from

OOC: I'm also working through my exams and projects, and will try to post as often as possible, I just really don't want to miss this one. Name: Brenda Daniels (aka Black Widow) Age: 25 Race: Caucasian Gender: Female Marital Status: Widowed (5 times) Admitted June 2003 Brenda is a trained nurse, and is very pro-euthanasia. She has “helped” 24 of her richest patients cross to the other side. The patients always trusted her completely and the reason that she has been able to do “her work” for so long is that she also has a meticulous memory for the various medications and their “side effects” (especially the negative ones) that were at her disposal. Brenda is a very charming lady and managed to catch 5 older husbands in her web. All of her husbands died mysteriously after 5 to 18 months after the wedding. The combination of the fact that she killed all her victims by poisoning them and that she is five times a widow, have given the newspapers enough reason to call her “Black Widow”. Since she has committed her crimes in various states, she is currently waiting for the judge to decide if she will “only” be in prison for the rest of her mortal life, or will be send to a different state to be sentenced to death. Assessment of the State: Several interviews conducted by the state’s best psychiatrists had as many different outcomes. One report labels her “Highly dangerous” and advises against contact with other prisoners, another says that she acted out of pure free will, and that she is as sane as a serial killer can be.

The third stanza breaks the rhyme on purpose indeed, cause it's something I wanted to stand out. I was trying to create the effect of a thought that is stopped mid-sentence, but it probably came out less strong than I had hoped. I had a different version of the 4th stanza first: No, I will make myself forget How he kicked me from his bed Deny my feelings of regret nor will I even get upset But I wanted something more powerful, something that showed more determination. So I decided to throw it around and tried to put more anger in it, and at the same time these feelings of determination by repeating the first line. In the last line I had written will in bold, but changed it back later. No, I will make myself forget How you kicked me from your bed Denied my feelings of regret I will make myself forget Often I read my poems out loud to myself and listen if it works or not. But thank you for asking these questions, they help me to analyse what I'm doing and why I'm doing it *huggles both*

She stood there for a moment hesitating what she should do, and finally decided that she would take the bird back to her room. She still had some fruit, and maybe it would want to eat some of that. She walked back to her room; with one hand she made a fluffy nest of pillows for the animal, and softly put the bird down. The beautiful head stirred for a moment, but it only rolled itself up and kept sleeping. She looked at her clothes, and was surprised to see that, although the flaming feathers of the young bird were still weak, her clothes were not burned. She shook her head in surprise, and looked back at the sleeping bird. He was still softly glowing, and she wondered again what sort of bird it would be. Her eyes fell on her laptop. The ventilator was softly buzzing to save the laptop from getting overheated, and she decided that she could always try to find some information on the mana Internet. She had only recently managed to get it installed, with a little help from Pillow, and she hoped that the connection would not let her down. With the sound of twinkling bells the screens started glowing brightly. Her old laptop moaned under the job she asked it to do, but stayed faithful nonetheless, and seconds later the Pen keep logo started dancing as a 3d hologram in front of her. The swords slowly turned in the air and seemed to reflect light. She still had to get used to the fact that she didn’t have to work with a mouse and had already moved her hand towards it when she remembered that she could just think of what she wanted and the program would pick it up. “I would like some information on bird species, please.” The swords turned faster and disappeared, instead a list of bird pictures with their names behind it appeared in front of her. It was a funny sight, the birds were all walking or eating, and some of them were even sound asleep. She didn’t see a bird that looked like the one she had found and decided that she probably needed to be more specific. “Bird species that have fiery feathers, please.” She told the computer. A 3D image of her bird appeared in front of her, it lazily spread its wings and rolled up like the bird in her room had done. This bird however looked different than hers, it was bigger and it also seemed to have more flaming feathers, “Phoenix” it said next to the picture. Sweetcherrie wondered what exactly a phoenix would eat, and immediately the computer started gauging up information. “Phoenixes are extremely rare, some peoples even believe that only one exists at a time. Nobody has ever seen phoenix eat or drink, and they still live for hundreds of years.” At this point Sweetcherrie stopped reading, and looked at the sleeping bird. It would live for hundreds of years; it appeared that she would be stuck with it for a long, long time. At least it didn’t need food. She sighed and continued reading. “The phoenix is believed to posess great magical powers.” A picture of an adult phoenix appeared and showed how it could be trained in healing, defence and attacking. “When the bird dies, it makes a nest of myrrh and sets this ablaze, from the ashes a new phoenix is born.” “So that is what I saw,” Sweetcherrie thought, and asked the computer to show her a young phoenix. The computer showed her a picture and it looked exactly like her bird. She shut down the program and walked over to her bed to lie down. She kept staring at the bird until her eyes slowly closed, and drifted away into the kingdom of dreams, forgetting all about her meeting with the customer tomorrow.

You asked me for a reply and I will do my best to make it as complete as possible. Before I start I would like to say that I’m no professional and can only say things the way I see and read them, and all below is only my personal opinion as a reader Chapter 1: -I think there is too much information given in quite a dry fashion. The chapter almost reads as an enumeration of facts. Also to me the first chapter sets the feeling for the next couple of chapters and if the rest of the chapters are good it will of course wear off, but still better to try and spread out the facts and information in the story. -“already ready” 8th paragraph sounds weird; I would probably try to rephrase this. -The word momentum is used twice in a very short time Chapter 2: -Good and action packed, but halfway through I was wondering where Olira went. You describe Jerrick’s actions, but she is sort of pushed to the background. -“aiming to attack him” (1st paragraph) is probably abundant. Without this the sentence would flow better. -Too many “yet” constructions. I found the word “yet” 5 times, but if you do a word search you will probably find it even more often, be careful with using the same construction of sentence too many times, and too close to each other. -“extended ahead of it” (5th paragraph) not sure how this would be done, but probably better to rephrase as it reads weirdly. -“since they had seen that the had his sword no more” I would change this into “seeing that he no longer had his sword” Chapter 3: -Jerrick is making a remarkable quick recovery, but I expect that has to do with some of him being a mage as well? Also I think that if you want to have Olira playing a bigger role in the future (and it feels you do) it might not be a good idea to pose her here as a sobbing insecure lady. She comes across here as (sorry for the word) a pathetic whining girl, and I felt slightly annoyed with her. Chapter 4: -As the writing continues it also gets better , in the 2nd paragraph there is a repetition of the word “slid” the first could be changed in “moved” maybe. Chapter 5: -In chapter 4 you tell that Jerrick is saying “light the way” which gives me the idea that he’s asking some higher force to guide him, but in chapter 5 it turns out to be a friend. Also it’s not entirely clear what exactly the relationship is between Maqal and Jerrick, and if this is of importance it might be a good idea to add this in somewhere. -“thinking that he at last found the game” The word game here confused me, and this might be because I don’t know the word in this context, but it feels out of place here. -Killing Jerrick seemed strange to me, especially since he has so far been the only character that has been described in more detail. Then again, I have of course no idea how you will continue and if he will be playing a role again in later chapters. Chapter 6: -I really like the fact that we get to see the other side of the story, but already have the feeling of knowing the bad guys better than the good guys, since these are showing their feelings more than the others. In general I think you have an interesting story line and a couple of characters that can become very interesting. I would try to describe them more, and work out what they’re feeling a bit better, since at the moment they all still have a bit of a white cloud where there are supposed to be faces. I hope I haven’t been too direct here, I really enjoyed reading the story and as I said I’m only trying to point out where I thought it could be improved. I will most definitely follow this story and am curious how it will continue.

*huggles the other VanDikHout fan ) *also huggles Cerulean and Lady Celes* Thank you all so much for commenting on this Unfortunately I have no possibility to put this to audio, but I think it would sound good. As to what Appy said, it might even sound good as lyrics (and I did listen to Dutch music while writing, but this time it wasn't VanDikHout but Acda en de Munnik ) edit: oh, and I looked up intwined. Basicly the Dutch word "doorweven" means "woven into", and it gave me intwined as a translation, but since I also thought it was entwined I looked this up in an English dictionary and Intwined was the word I was looking for

Even with typos this was a very sensitive poem (and don't worry there are more people here that aren't native english speakers ) and I hope you will feel a bit less lonely in the company of so many warm and loving people here at the Pen, welcome. *huggles warmly*

When I looked into your eyes I saw that we could seize the skies I told my lonely heart some lies Deafened it for good advice So I gave all my love to thee And begged you to give back to me Then we could be an entity Entwined into eternity You had something else in store You took it all, and then some more Left me standing at the door Used me like some cheap- No, I will make myself forget How you kicked me from your bed Denied my feelings of regret I will make myself forget I closed my heart and built a wall Impenetrable for them all Darkness The scent of a new dawn arose, like a hot day after rain can smell I tasted a bittersweet longing, a flavour mixed with farewell Soft whispers of hope reached my ears, sounding like tinkling bells The wall crumbled under my hands, released me from my personal hell But my heart blows blindly at the newly found cinders, showing me the sparks Edit: changed the last line from starting with and it now starts with but. Thanks HappyBuddha

*hugs tightly* Lost for words...but know that my thoughts are with you

OOC: Written by Mynx, posted by Sweetcherrie by request since Mynx has been kidnapped by RL. Mynx sat on a fallen log at the edge of the forest softly playing the flute she had just finished carving as she watched the tail ends of the sunset. For once, a somewhat pleasant tune came from the flute as the feline waited for Patham to finish his activity with Dana. It was movement in the corner of her eye that attracted her attention to his arrival. At first, Mynx was confused as to why she hadn't heard him approach - even over the soft music her keen hearing should have picked it up - but then she clicked. Owl facets, silly cat, she thought to herself, before putting away her flute and turning to smile widely at her approaching friend, noting by his somewhat relaxed expression that Dana's meditation must have gone well. "Happy birthday!" she called out, "how was the meditation?" "Good," Patham replied with a rueful smile as he held up a somewhat feathered forearm. "Still trying to get the hang of this changing thing though." Mynx smiled. "You'll pick it up. 'sides, it'll be easier for both of us if we rely on animal forms and senses in the forest at this time of night." Pausing as she deliberately failed to see the frown of confusion on Patham's face, Mynx tilted her head in speculation. "I suppose you can change with clothes?" Patham nodded. "You're lucky then," Mynx said as she began to remove her robe and most of the accessories she carried on her person. "Well," the feline said as she opened her personal portal and placed her items and robe within it, "if you wouldn't mind changing into your owl form, I wanted to show you some things in the forest and it will be easier to see and hear and such with the animal senses. I suppose you could call it a gift of knowledge," she smiled at her friend. "Um," Patham hesitated. "I'm not the best of fliers..." "No problem," Mynx said as she stepped back from her still open portal. "Flying will come to you with time and practice and you can sit on my shoulder if you don't want to fly." Closing her eyes in concentration, there was a pause before Mynx's form began to ripple, the human attributes leaving as the tiger form took precedent. Watching as she shrugged off the rest of her clothes during the change, Patham soon found his friend in full tiger form, the only difference from a real tiger being the silver tiara still on her head and the fact that she was still able to speak. "There's no real need for me to be in this form," Mynx explained as she picked up the scattered garments with her teeth and placed them in her portal before closing it with a claw, "I guess I just wanted to see if I still could change, and there are some things the tiger notices more about the forest than I do. Ready?" Dismissing the idea that the large tiger sitting in front of him might possibly see him as dinner by reminding himself that it was his friend and not a wild tiger, Patham concentrated as he had taught himself and slowly shifted into his owl form. He hooted and flapped on the ground for a bit before Mynx crouched down and he was able to make a brief flight onto her back. After ensuring she wasn't about to lose her passenger, Mynx set off at an easy pace into the darkness of the forest. "As I said before," Mynx continued after a time, "You're lucky with your shape-shifting. I'm not a true shifter, so I have trouble with it. I can't maintain clothes and the longer I remain in this form, the more tiring it is to change back. Until I developed my portal, I had nothing once I changed. "There was a number of skills I learnt while travelling like this, and while I doubt you're life will ever be as...interesting...as mine was, I thought you might like to know a couple of things that can always be useful if you ever find yourself in the forest, especially if you can't simply fly out of there." Pausing in a clearing, Mynx turned her head to regard the owl sitting on her shoulder blades. "If possible? I advise staying in owl form as long as you can manage. The instincts will guide and protect you as best they can. If you can't change, or if the instincts start to fight your control, then you're probably going to be safer as a human." Taking this all in, Patham hooted softly to show he understood. Grinning toothily, Mynx sat down, causing Patham to hoot in surprise and scramble with his talons until he sat atop Mynx's head. "Now," Mynx said. "Hunting. As I said before, if you can go owl, do. For one thing it saves you having to cook. But if you can't..." Using a claw to draw in the dirt, Mynx began to explain various methods of tracking and catching some of the more common prey animals with limited weapons and resources. As she moved her advice to creating shelter and fire, as well as showing him a few herbal remedies, Patham sat in silence, glad he had been advised to take on his owl form as the keener senses learnt and remembered more than if he had stayed human. Eventually, Mynx stopped talking. After a few moments of silence, she politely asked Patham to excuse her for a moment. Flapping his wings, Patham managed to reach a low branch on a tree, turning his head in time to see Mynx disappear into the shadows. A short while later, she returned in her more common form. "Sorry," she apologised, holding out her paw for Patham to transfer to. "It's been a long time since I've done that and I'd forgotten how strong the tiger's mind is. You were beginning to smell very tasty." Blinking in surprise, Patham contemplated turning back, before deciding to remain at least for the trip out of the forest; he wanted to take more of it in with his keen senses, especially after the advice Mynx had given for some of the things to look out for. The journey out of the forest was silent between the pair, but not uncomfortable; Mynx lost in her own thoughts while Patham turned his head this way and that, taking in everything around him with a newfound interest. Once they reached the forest's borders, Patham fluttered off Mynx's paw and shifted back to human form - save a few feathers in his hair. "Thanks!" he finally turned to Mynx after getting his feather problem under control. "I don't know if or when I'm going to wind up alone in the forest, but even if I never do it was fascinating to learn!" Mynx grinned before hugging her friend. "Glad you liked it. It's the least I could do, and you just need to ask if you want to know more. I'd better let you go now, though. I hear Venefyxatu has something for you in the small cemetery a bit further down in the forest." Thanking her again, Patham waved to Mynx as she headed back to her quarters, before setting off to see what it what that Venefyxatu had in store for him.

OOC: I would like to ask people to refrain from posting until the following people have posted: Sweetcherrie Mynx (will be posted by Sweetcherrie) Venefyxatu Cryptomancer Gryphon Salinye Cyril Darkcloud Thank you Sweetcherrie had sat down first, but was now walking around tensely. They had prepared a day full of fun, and she just hoped her friend would like it. She had asked him to meet her here, and hoped that he would come. She jumped nervously when she heard the click of the door, and sighed with relief when Patham came in. She hurried over to him, glad that he had decided to come in his human form, and gave him a warm hug. “Congratulations! Ihopeyou’ll haveagoodbirthdaybutjusttomakesureyou’llhavethebestbirthdayevermeandsomeofyourot herfriendshavepreparedsomesurprisesforyou.” She rambled in one breath. Patham was trying to follow the incoherent Sweetcherrie, and put his hand on hers, “Would you please slow down, and explain that again?” Sweetcherrie took a big breath and organised her thoughts, “With a group of people we have prepared some fun activities, but to not spoil the surprise I will just send you to the first person and that person will send you to the next. Dana waits for you at the side of the lake to give you the first surprise. I’ll walk with you to there.” She stuck her arm through his, and together they walked to the lake. Dana saw them approach and hoped that her gift would work out well. Sweetcherrie had asked her to prepare this for the shape shifter, and she was glad to be of help. She only hoped that Patham would enjoy the session. “Hiya, thank you for doing this.” Sweetcherrie said and hugged Dana upon arrival. She turned to Patham, “Dana will take you through a mediation session, and it will get you into a very clear and relaxed state. After this Dana will tell you where you can find the next person.” Sweetcherrie hugged Patham, “Have fun.” Dana cleared her throat when Sweetcherrie walked away, “Right, now what we will do, is just a very light session, just enough to get you relaxed and clearing your mind. Sweetcherrie told me that she thought it would be fun and maybe also useful, you can always decide later if you want to continue meditation.” With these words she put her hand in the air, and a soft woollen blanket appeared in it. While she spread it out on the floor she started explaining the basics to Patham, “What we will do is a guided meditation, we will start with some breathing exercises and then I will talk you through the meditation itself.” She invited Patham to sit down facing the lake. The sun was kissing the horizon and the colours in the sky were ranging from deep blue till a fiery red. Crickets were chirping merrily and the calming sounds of the babbling water had a soothing effect. “Now, if you can just find a comfortable position, but not too comfortable, we don’t want you to fall asleep. If you could please close your eyes, and take a few deep breathes. Just listen to my voice guiding you through” Patham nodded, closed his eyes, and adjusted his breathing to the counting of Dana’s hoarse voice. He felt his muscles relax and his thoughts slow down, just listening to the words. “I'd like you to take a deep breath and visualize all the bad in you, you can see it maybe as a black cloud, now exhale this black cloud…..now try to visualize all the good as a white cloud, and inhale the white cloud…take another deep breath by exhaling more black light... and inhale white light.” Dana paused to give Patham the time to adjust to her voice, and to find his own pace. His breath was steady and deep, and his body position was relaxed. Dana kept in check with his heartbeat through the mana flows; it was a strong and regular heartbeat. She focused on his inner vision and because she didn’t want to intrude in his thought closed her own mind for what he was seeing. “……when you are ready, bring your awareness back to the present and open your eyes." Patham blinked a few times, it felt as if his body was floating slightly above the ground, and his head felt as if it had been filled with a bright, white light that glowed from all the good things inside it. He looked at Dana with a renewed point of view, and thanked her warmly for the session. “You’re welcome,” she smiled, “but you need to go now, Mynx is waiting for you at the edge of the forest with the next session.” She helped Patham up and sent him on his way to the meet Mynx.

erm..I never meant to scare people....hmmm......actually I did Thank you for all the comments, and I will definitely keep adding to these logs That is if I keep dreaming stuff that is at least slightly interpretable in words, some of it even freaks me out *huggles you all*