The breeze was fresh and clean through her window. She sighed. There was nothing she could do now, she told herself. The deed was done.

Maria stood, allowing herself one more long glance out to the slowly awakening world, then turned and made her way to the kitchen. No use worrying about it anymore, right? She put her ladybug kettle on the stove for tea, turning the heat on low. Natalie would be home soon. She’d have the tea ready and surprise her with it. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so bad.

She probably shouldn’t have written it. She probably should have kept her thoughts to herself. But it had gotten excruciatingly painful lately, and when there’s no one to take charge but yourself, then you have to do something. So that’s what she did. She took charge. It’s reasonable, right?

She didn’t know how Natalie would respond. Of course, if she had known, then the whole thing wouldn’t be a problem. She wouldn’t have to question and wonder and have her brain run around in circles trying to figure it all out. It would just be simple. Yes or no.

Maria grabbed the pan of monkey bread that she had made sometime around three am and started cutting pieces out. Maybe Natalie would be hungry. She always loved the monkey bread. Maybe that would help. The tea bubbled innocently as she slowly laid out the small slices in a circular pattern. Natalie didn’t care much for presentation, but Maria’s habits were strong. Any decoration or cleanliness in their tiny little apartment was all thanks to Maria.

A light whistle snapped Maria out of her daydreaming. She made her way over to the teapot, turning off the heat in a swift, practiced motion, then brought it over to the little island counter where the monkey bread sat. She let the pot rest on a cute little pink ceramic trivet while she grabbed their matching teacups down from the cupboard – one was gold, the other a yellow-green, both engraved with intricate designs of the other’s color. They had picked them up at some antique fair years ago. Natalie had feigned disinterest, but Maria knew she was fond of them; she purchased them despite their outrageous price and her meager salary.

Remembering that little fact made Maria smile. Natalie always treated her cup with such tenderness, like she did with all the things that Maria gave her. And they had lived together for such a long time that Natalie had amassed quite a few gifts. Not that Maria didn’t treasure her own presents. She just could see that there was something special about the way Natalie handled the things she loved.

Maria’s heart clenched a little as her thoughts returned to the letter. Was it the right decision? Or would everything change after this? No, can’t think about that. Don’t let yourself think about it, Maria. It’ll only be harder. You’ll have your answer soon, and then…

She felt the breeze rustle her hair slightly, and a soft, melodic jingle rang through the air. The chimes – they only rang when someone opened the door, there was never a strong enough breeze coming through that window –
Maria stood and walked around the short corner to see Natalie standing in the doorway. Her face was red and splotchy, her cheeks covered in tears. A piece of paper was clenched tightly in her hand.

“Welcome home,” Maria said.

It was a hot summer night, with stifling, thick air and nothing but the sound of traffic below her.

If she closed her eyes, she could pretend that the cars were cicadas, like back in Alabama. The cicadas never stopped there. Back in Alabama, where there were long summer days and wide-open spaces that stretched on forever. Her home.

Sometimes, she would sit with her brother on the rough, mangled wood of their front porch, laughing and screaming at every card game that she lost. Her dad would rock gently in his chair, silent and calm, and her mom would hum a little tune as she washed the dishes, watching them through the kitchen window. It was what she thought of when she heard the word ‘home’.

But the city that sprawled out below her was a bright, busy contrast to her memories. Burning lights blinded her at every turn, buildings crawled up so high that even the sky was covered, and the stars were hidden by the smoke and the smog. Even on a clear night like this one, though, only one or two of the lights managed to sparkle enough to be seen.

That’s why she kept her eyes closed. Better to imagine a pretty lie than to look upon an ugly truth. Mary taught her that.

Mary was the one that brought her here. Her best friend, her love, her life – Mary was infallible. She never once doubted anything Mary told her. Maybe that’s why she had ended up like this, so close to the edge, so dangerously close.

Beautiful Mary. So sweet, so languid, so amazing. She had never seen anyone like her before. It was summer then, too, when they met. An old friend that had moved to the city brought Mary along for a visit, and from that moment she knew that it was love. She wanted to see Mary, she wanted to be with her. She couldn’t get enough, she had to see Mary all the time. She needed Mary.

So when she learned that Mary couldn’t visit that often, she decided she would just move to wherever Mary was. It didn’t matter the place, she would go. She would spend all her money and have nothing but the clothes on her back, but if Mary was there, it would be alright. Because nothing ever compared to the way Mary made her feel. Her presence was calming and peaceful. When she was with Mary, she felt like she could fly.

Others had been scared away over the years, but Mary never left. Mary didn’t care. Mary would always be by her side, when everything else had disappeared. In fact, she liked it better that way. She liked it when it was just her and Mary. There used to be a time when others would be around, but over time she decided that she didn’t want to share Mary with anyone. Beautiful, pale Mary. So sweet. So deliciously sweet.

And tonight, in the heat of the summer air, she would dance with Mary one last time. She held Mary gently in her hands, crooning, smiling, laughing. Mary was her one and only. Mary kept her going in life. And now, Mary would help her soar among the clouds, as her wings. Standing on the balcony edge, she held on to the roof above her and stared up at the sky. A star winked at her and she smiled back, thinking that it would be funny if she could go visit him. If Mary was with her, it was possible.

“Mary Jane,” she murmured. “Mary Jane, hold me… hold me…”

She jumped.

Sophie hiccupped and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.

“Do you like this?” she drawled, stepping closer to the man. He was hunched over on the ground, eyes clinched in pain.

Sophie squatted down and bounced on the balls of her feet, leaning in close to him. The smell of alcohol was heavy on her breath. “How does it feel?” she murmured. “The taste of your own medicine…” Tracing her fingers along his jaw-line, she lifted his face up slowly so she could get a better look at him.

“Oh, precious little Blake…” she cooed. His eyes shot open at the sound of his name.

“Wh-what did you say?” he sputtered angrily, not noticing the thick stream of hot red blood that was running down the side of his cheek. Sophie rubbed her thumb against it as she smiled gently at him.

“I called you by your real name. Yes, I know who you are. I’ve known for quite some time.” She chuckled as she smeared the blood across his pale skin. “We’re here together, every day, in the same places every time… don’t tell me you thought I couldn’t figure it out?” Sophie dug her nails into his chin, her smile widening.

Blake clenched his teeth to keep from crying out, loath to give her any sort of sick satisfaction. His eye throbbed from the solid punch it had received earlier, and he could feel it swelling tremendously with every second. The cut on his forehead was no better – deep as it was, it began to grow numb, despite the steady flow of blood still coming out of it. Stupid bitch, he thought ruthlessly. Caught me when I least expected it.

Sophie tightened her grip on his chin as if she knew what he was thinking.

“Don’t worry, Blake. This is only the start.”

With a sudden force, she slammed his head onto the black pavement, relishing in the horrifyingly sick crack that echoed out into the night. Blake gasped from the intense pain, nearly passing out from it, but he managed to stay conscious from the sheer fear of what might come if he didn’t.

He felt a yank on his head as Sophie pulled him up by a fistful of his thick black hair. “We’ll keep this going all night, baby,” she hissed. “And then when your girlfriends show up and all they find is your battered and bloodied body lying on the ground, I’ll get them too.”

Blake mustered up what strength he had left and used it to spit directly into her face. The woman growled viciously at him and stood, kicking him straight in the gut as his head fell to the ground again. He choked at the sudden rush of air leaving his lungs, gasping for breath frantically.

“Don’t fuck with me, Blake!” she screeched. “You have no idea about what’s really going on!” She kicked him again, hard enough to send another resounding crack out from his body. This time, Blake couldn’t hold it in.

He cried out sharply, the broken rib sending a new wave of pain throughout his body. “What the hell—” he managed to choke out. “You crazy bi—”

Sophie cut him off with a swift jerk, pulling him up by the shirt. He wasn’t much bigger than her, and as for strength he was at a complete disadvantage when she was like this. He was like a rag doll in her hands.

“You think this is hard, Blake? You think this is painful?” Her voice was low and dangerous, and the stench of alcohol was stronger than ever. “I’ve been going through this for months. You and your little friends have beaten me countless times, all for no good reason. I can’t remember the last time I slept. If I ever got a break from you pricks, it’s pointless to even try because I just have nightmares about how you nearly kill me every night.” Her bright green eyes shone with an angry insanity. “Don’t you think I have a life? Don’t you think I’m just like you? I’m normal. I have roommates that I go home to every morning. They see my bruises and my cuts and my gashes, and they wonder and they ask but I can never tell them what really happens because they’ll never believe me.”

She threw him to the ground abruptly, disgusted with him for a lack of response, and with herself for revealing so much.

“Fuck this…” she muttered. Blake lay still on the ground. Sophie stared at him for a long while, silent and brooding. And without another word, she turned and left, ignoring the conflicting feelings that churned within her chest.

New year, new theme… and hopefully, new posts.

I’m in an advanced writing of fiction class this semester, so hopefully that will spurn me to post some stuff.  Until then, I’ll just add in stuff I wrote from last semester’s writing class.

2009 writing goal :: starting on a novel.

[author note: this could use a lot of work.  but I'm posting it now anyway.]

In my ballet troupe, I was always cast as the black swan, as Odile.  I hated it.  I thought it was because of my skin, because I was different from the rest of them.  No matter how much I longed to be the beautifully pristine Odette, I was always doomed to be the one fated to steal away the Prince, to die alone.

And then, one day, she came.

Her dancing was so elegant, so pure, so very Odette… there was no question.  She had the part instantly.  We didn’t even finish tryouts.

When we danced together at rehearsals, I could hardly keep my eyes off her.  My heart was lost in a mix of jealousy and admiration.  She was the same as me, so how?  How could she dance with such innocence, such heavenly whiteness?  I didn’t understand.

My dancing grew more and more powerful with every step I shared with her.The pain seeped out from every leap, every pirouette, every pas de deux and every en pointe.  Why was it not I?

But I knew the answer.  She had a light about her.  Something I couldn’t touch.  Her ability, her gifts, they far exceeded my own.  Next to her, I would always be an Odile.

On the eve of our final show, my angel came up to me before the curtain call.

“Rose,” she spoke.  “I wanted to thank you.  You’ve been such an inspiration to me.  Your portrayal of Odile has always been so perfect.  You capture her pain with such skill!” She sighed aloud. “I confess!”

Ah, even her speech was perfect.  “The very reason I aimed to join this troupe was that I might be like you one day!  To present my character in such perfect beauty, such light.  To be able to even dance on the same stage as you had was joy; to in fact dance with you was ecstacy itself!” Tears brimmed beneath her eyes, and I wiped away my own that had begun long ago.  “Thank you, my Rose, for your dancing was more beautiful than ever when I stood next to you.  Thank you!”

[author note: Tears of Snow again!  Detailing the desert, where both my characters come from.]

THE DESERT ZANYAV
To the north of the Mage Academy.  Surrounded by red rock and mountains to the East, West and North.  The river Xinxi runs south from the mountains along the eastern side.

DESERT WITCHES
“mountain hags”

Eternal beings, the Desert Witches of Zanyav were the original genies, often called gypsies when they were first seen.  They existed before humans came onto the land over five thousand years ago.

When they were first known to the humans, the Witches were worshiped.  As time went on, they were continually honored, but the respect deteriorated over time.  Eventually, the Witches began to hide within the mountain caves, leaving the humans suspicious and fearful.  Most recent legends involve the Witches capturing young children to devour them so that they may keep their eternal beauty.

They are storytellers, fortune tellers, potion makers, and spellcasters — though not in the magical sense.  Most often, the Witches merely do sun or rain dances, speak with the trees and flowers, or read the stars.  They have grown tired of the high-magicks that they used so much in the past.

GENIES
HISTORY
Genies were first created by the Desert Witches of Zanyav three thousand years ago.  They were to be companions to the Witches, designed with not only incredible power but human emotions as well.

However, these emotions made them unpredictable and dangerous.  Because they were so young, the Genies could not control their powers and went on many destructive rages.

The Witches created the Magic Lamps in order to capture and control the wild Genies.  With them, they also used a sealing spell to block most of the human emotions out.  The Genies were left with only one or two strong feelings, usually Greed, Lust, or Wrath.

Over time, however, Genies regain more of their emotions, most of the time from strong reactions to certain incidents.

MASTERS
Genies are bound to a new Master the moment he or she touches their magic lamp.  Once they are bound, however, they cannot be unbound unless
1. The Master deems it so.
2. The Master dies.
3. Theft (by um. sex.)
There is no record of a Genie ever leaving a Master by his or her own free will.

WISHES
There is no “wish system” for the Genies; once a Master is bound to a Genie, they are bound eternally and are granted unlimited access to the Genie’s powers.  The Genie cannot disobey.

LIFESTYLE
Genies do not need to eat or drink, but they tend to do so anyway out of habit or enjoyment.  Their bodies only require about four hours of sleep a night.

MYUNIRA DEL RAJA YUSRA FADILIA
Genie of the Stardust Lamp

In the beginning, all that was left to her was her greed.  Her desire for jewels of gold and of silver, of rare diamonds and other beautiful rocks, of magical staffs and enchanted bracelets.  She had nothing else.

And so, she was tossed about, uncaring and blank.  She held no regard for her masters, only treating those who gave her expensive gifts with slightly more favoritism.

With time, she became bored.  And so, slowly, a different lust came over her.  She began to gather harems under her masters, taking boys and men ruthlessly from villages without their say when her owner was vicious enough.

This was how she came about a sir Revan Orret.

He was a young noble who visited often for tournaments that her powerful, aging master held.  She loved to watch him participate, his sleek bold body glistening under the sun.  And so, for the first time in the history of the Genies, she left her master.

She came to Revan at the darkest hour with intentions to seduce him, but he took her with no fight.  The same lust was within him as well.  And so they stayed.  Through him she learned love, compassion, happiness.  She could not imagine anything better.

She had never looked into the future, where he would become old and she forever young.  But it seemed that it would never come to such things.

For a jealous and powerful man, Metzerra Von Birre VI, burned the Castle Orret to the ground and took her away with force.

Through him, she learned anger and hatred for destroying her beloved, then sadness, then pain.  He was cruel to her, using her whenever he pleased.  Drawing upon her wrath, she killed Metzerra herself and left him to roam the desert in loneliness and nothingness.

She stayed on her own for many hundreds of years, eventually gaining a new master who treated her as those in the past had – showering her with gifts and treating her like a queen.

After ages of this, she regained the compassion that had left her after losing Revan.  She grew fond of her masters, treated them with kindess, and in turn only allowed well-intentioned people to have control over her power.

Her last master was fond of experimenting with various potions, and in a grand accident one day, caused her to lose her powers.  After a year of mourning and becoming used to no longer having magic within her, she made her way to the Mage Academy in an attempt to re-learn what she missed the most.

Myunira is over a thousand years old.

[author note: Old, unpublished idea for Elftown RP Tears of Snow]

Rosonilo knew the girl instantly.  She was probably the only one in the school who knew, in fact.  She thought about mentioning it to Lucius, but she wanted to talk with the girl first…and all attempts at that had been unsuccessful.  She was avoiding her.  No doubt it was because it was painfully obvious that she came from the same desert home.

But her chance had come.  Rosonilo had caught her standing in an empty corridor, leaning against a column and staring at the setting sun.  She didn’t notice Rosonilo until she spoke.

“My Lady,” she said, leaning on one knee beside her.  Myunira jumped in surprise, then looked at her with a frown.

“Deputy Headmistress.” She said stiffly.  “Rise, if you please.  We require no such honors any longer.”

The desertwoman did as asked, a light smile on her lips.  She did not fail to notice the way the girl spoke instinctively at first sight of submission. “Why would that be, my Lady?  And might I ask what a powerful Genie such as yourself is doing at a human’s Mage Academy?”

Myunira scoffed.  “You mean to say you have not heard?  I thought it would be all across the land by now.”  She turned her gaze back to the sunset.  “My last master was a fool for potions.  One day, his habit cost him his life, and I my powers.  So here I stand, learning magic the ‘normal’ way.  Myunira del Raja Yusra Fadilia, Genie of the Stardust Lamp, Jewel of the Desert.  Learning magic at a human school.”  She spat.  “There are a thousand legends about me in my homeland, yet here I stand without a single person knowing who I am.”

Rosonilo stared at her in shock. “Your powers are gone?” No wonder the fantastic aura that had surrounded the girl previously had disappeared.  She had seen her once, sitting high upon a throne of gold, clad in innumerable jewels and surrounded by servants with huge feathered fans.  The smallfolk had come to pay homage to her and ask for favors.  Though the genie had been undoubtably full of pride, she was not unkind.  She helped those when she could, and showed pity for those she could not.  Though Rosonilo had been young when she saw her, she could sense, no, *see* the magic flowing out from the genie, all pale blues and pinks and yellows, gently floating around her.

But that was gone now.  All that stood before her was a tall, lanky girl, dressed plainly and undecorated.

“I would much rather be playing my flute than playing this game of War and Swords.”

- Faltri

“My heritage demands that I shave my hair short and learn the magicks of my people. But… if I could, I would grow my hair as long as the sun lives, and study the Histories and the Stories in Kelke.”

- Qicethi Nin

“I do not have a mind like my father, power-hungry and thirsting for battle. If the choice were mine, I would fly across the land with nothing but Featherbane and my sword at my side. But when your father is the Second Head of the Council of Jinriid, you have duties that you cannot defy.”

- Vernr’cu Setsa

“I do not mind the fighting, for it is my blood. Nor do I mind the travel, for that is also within me. What I do mind is what my mother does, back at the Council. She barters and bids our people and our lands, all to please that bitch Llyll. I cannot stand either of their twisted ways.”

- Murean Bis

“You think me suited to be a man of the Goddess? I have no such desires. My faith is as thin as a whore’s silk robe. I only came to be in this damned position because of my father. When your old man is the Head Priest of the Temple, you don’t get a choice. I would much rather be out there in the sun and the heat, sweating in a fierce battle with other soldiers of the city.”

- Gevdre Moonhide

“I seem to be the only one suited to my position in this group. A druid and woodsman from the Western Forests, fond of the animals I train, even getting the rare enjoyment out of the old ways of healing. Something must be wrong with me!”

- Monyet

“Though she loved and lived for the desert, for the sun, the heat, and the dry yellow sand that went on forever, she yearned for something else as well. Once, when it had not been overrun with Briask’uon and Kelke lackeys, her mother and father had taken her up the to the Plateau, across the Greenlands there and to the sea. Not the Chisa Bay, but the real sea, the Southern Ocean, where the breeze was sweet and the water warm and clear and gentle. She was young, and she relished in the air that was much too different from the desert. There, the air was hot and thick, sweltering even, making it hard to breathe if you ran for even just a little bit. Here, it was light and playful, breezy once in a while but only enough to please you and never frustrate, and the breaths came slow and clean. Here, she could run freely for as long as she wanted, and run she did, across the sandy beach and through the tall grass, her long hair flowing freely behind her. Here, she had no worries.”

- A tale of Cor’unu’nath Bellakohv

Once upon a time in a faraway land
Lived a Prince and a Princess of Ocean and Sand

The Prince of the Ocean was strong, kind and bright
And the Princess of Sand loved him with all of her might

She thought he felt the same, for sure there was no other
But little did she know, the Prince’s heart belonged to another

Every night from her window, in the deep evening sky
The Princess wished for his love with tears in her eyes

One night, her beloved called her out to the sea
To tell her something – she knew what it must be

“The time has come!” She thought with hope and glee
And rushed to meet him at half-past three

She arrived with her eyes sparkling like a jewel
And waited patiently like a lovesick fool

The Prince smiled at her, and said “It is here!
I am finally engaged to my true love, my dear!”

And then the Princess saw, standing right by her love
A small mousy girl who moved like a dove

Heartbroken, she smiled as the Prince hugged the girl
And choked up a bit as she watched it unfurl

True love was apparent in the young couple’s eyes
The Princess saw it herself – she had been so unwise

As the two flew away, the Princess fell to the ground
Alone in the world, tears spilled out by the pound

This terrible moment, so heart wrenching and cruel
How could she have believed? She felt like a fool

And so, to the Princess, the truth was now in full view
When you wish upon a star, your dreams don’t come true

A lovely afternoon meeting starring Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou, Vice-Captain Matsumoto Rangiku and a personal character, Zanka Mayuko. Also featuring a surprise guest!

Oh no.

“Hey!! Tocchan, wait up!”

Not again.

“Tocchaaa~n, where have you been lately?”

Why? Why, why, why, why, why?

“Tocchan, I was just on my way to visit you! I’ve missed you so! And Rangiku-san too. Let’s go drink!!”

WHY? “Zanka-san, I’m underage.”

“Puh! I told you to call me Mayuko. Now come on, let’s go!!”

I never get any rest around here.

“Rangiku-saa—n!”

“Oo~h, if it isn’t Mayu-chan!! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

They’re so loud.

“Sure has! Are you up to anything right now?”

“Nope, nothing at all! Why, what’s up?”

What about those reports I asked you to do three hours ago?

“Well, I was just thinking, you know…”

“You want to drink, huh!? I was just thinking that myself, actually!”

“Is that so! Great beauties think alike after all!”

“Ahahahahaha!”

That’s not right. That’s not right at all.

“Come on, Tocchan, sit with us!”

“No. Unlike you slackers, I have work to do.”

“Whaaa~t, slackers?! C’mon, Captain, don’t be such a loser.”

What?! Loser?!

“Excuse me?!”

“She’s right, Tocchan. C’mere, just try a bit, we won’t tell.”

When did they pull that out?!

“Oh, just forget him, Mayu-chan. He’s boring. Here, try this stuff, I just got it the other day!”

B-boring…

“Wowee! That sure packs a punch! I can already feel it gettin’ to me!”

“Can’t you? I love this brand! It’s such a rare find but when I do get a hold of it I go crazy!”

You go crazy all the time, are you kidding me?

“Toccha~n, come on, just have a little taste~”

“W-what the heck! Get off of me, Mayuko!”

“Nn~ you called me Mayuko! Oh, you’re so adorable, Tocchan, just marry me already~”

Are you serious?! You’re already this drunk?!

“No wa~y Mayu-chan, he’s going to marry me first, aren’t you Cap’n?”

“What?! Not you too, Matsumoto! Come on, I have stuff to do! Get off!”

“Here, here, drink this, Tocchan…”

“Wh-hol-garhhhhh!”

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!

“That’s it, good boy!”

“Wow, you should see how red-faced you are, Cap’n!”

“I…what, what the hell do you two think you’re doing! I—woah…”

“Aww shucks, don’t tell me you’ve never drank before Tocchan! Ooh, don’t fall now…”

Did time slow down? What’s going on?

“Oh! Rangiku-san! Mayuko-san! What are you guys doing?”

Oh…that’s…

“Hinamori-chan! Better look out, we’re doing illegal things in here.”

“Illegal? What do you mean?”

H-Hina…HINAMORI?!

“Hinamori… don’t… quick, get out of here before they get you too…”

“Hitsugaya-kun! You’re here too? Oh, your face is all red, do you have a fever? Oh no, don’t fall over…Rangiku-san, Mayuko-san, why are you laughing?”

“Oh, you know, Rangiku-san…”

“Yes, I know, Mayu-chan. What would happen if they were both tipsy?”

“Tipsy? What? Hitsugaya-kun, have you been drinking?”

I’m going to kill them…I swear it…

“No, he hasn’t at all… Come here a second Hinamori-chan, he’s fine right there on the floor…”

Oh no, I have to stop those idiots.

“Hinamorihhghhh… don’t……let……unghh…”

“I promise he’s fine, here, just drink this.”

“What? But this smells like…”

“It’s fine, just drink it! Don’t you trust your fellow vice-captain?”

“Well…okay…”

[Several hours later…]

“Oh, look. They’ve both passed out. When did that happen?”

“Oh, five or six hours ago I think. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Captain’s gonna kill us when he gets up, you know that right?”

“Well…we’ll just have to not be here when that happens! But first, I think we need a picture of this most adorable moment.”

“I agree. They’re just so cute together. Just thinking about the day when he’ll confess gets my heart all aflutter!”

“I know! Let’s make sure to follow him and record it when that time comes. In the meantime, let’s just take sneaky pictures of them curled up together asleep so we can blackmail him later.”