Snip of Snip.

I know I've been a little MIA here as of late, and while I truly want to write a great long post full of delightful news, it's hard to do that without any news to gush about.

So, will you settle for recent story snippets instead?

 

Lord Neal had done well on his promise, and as Paige cleared the train’s doorsteps, a formally dressed, middle aged man approached her. “Ms. Woolington, I presume?”

“Yes” She smiled, and placed her hand in his, shaking it firmly, “I am; you must be the butler, Mr. Giles?”

He nodded, and returned the handshake, then solemnly turned, and picked up her baggage, loading them into a small covered carriage.

“You do realize, Ms. Woolington, that you shall probably lose your position when the year is out, and you risk your life in coming?”  He kept his back to her as he loaded them neatly on one side, leaving plenty of room for her to sit.

Paige raised an eyebrow skeptically, “I am aware of the constant shift of the estate’s owners, if that is what you mean.  But I do not understand how that affects my life”

The Butler shrugged, and held out his hand to assist her into the carriage, “Then you will soon find out”

 -Stranger Things

What was the use of living if this was to be the rest of her life? If she would just be reduced to a groveling lunatic encaged in this dreary world, what was the point of feeling this pain?

She sighed, and a small movement in the corner of the room caught her eye.

It was a bird, flown in from a cracked window pane; she watched with half interest as it jumped along the window sill, and picked at a bug, no doubt a roach, that tried to scurry away.  It chirped, and turned a glassy eye towards her, cocking it’s grey head, and hopping slightly.

It ruffled its feathers, and flew back out, and Ina sighed again.  What she would give for a pair of wings to fly away with.  To fly above all this hurt, and all this pain that settled in her heart.  To fly away from this burden she carried, and this life she knew was pointless to hide.

What would happen when the curators of this place discovered her secret terrified her.  And what would happen to this soul that beat within her own? This life that vied to live, should it come into the world here?

She sunk to her knees, fully aware that no one was watching her.  No one ever watched here. Maybe they saw, but they never watched.  They looked upon what happened before them, and turned blind eyes.

Blind eyes that could see if they only wanted.

She felt a tear trickle down her face, and she curled up on the floor like an injured animal, and nursed her spirit, broken by another man's wickedness, and her own weakness.

-State of Mind 

 

Tears blinded her eyes, she needed him, she needed him by her, to hold her, and wipe her tears away while he joked about the serious things of life.  She had realized it wasn’t that London didn’t take things seriously; she had seen enough of him that it was obvious he felt things deeply.  Laughing at things instead of fearing them was his way of being brave and comforting himself.

She bit her lip, life without London would be…unbearable. It was darker then the past he had brought her out of.  There was a big world ahead of her, and she didn’t know how to navigate it. Without him, and those purple jeans, those thick combat boots and that cocky hat, without him, and that ready smile. Without him and his off key whistle, without him and his wink that, she had tried to deny it, had set her heart to fluttering, without him, she was hopelessly lost.

Ashe jumped to her feet, her cold hands clenched at her sides, “I love you London!”

The few passerbyers gave her odd looks, and hurried on their way, but she didn’t notice.  She took off running, she had to find him before he left, before he went wherever he was heading, she knew now. No offer, no bribe, no threat would keep her from him.

-London Ashe

 

“Phelps! What are you on to?” Richards leaned over the paper where she was scrawling hastily; it looked like just a bunch of empty figures and random numbers.

“I knew the lack of motive disturbed me, and I should’ve heeded the disturbance I felt. You know, Richards, part of being genius is just following the urges and letting them sway you, and I ignored by urge. And it was costly” She balled the paper up, and tossed it to the floor.

Myra picked it up, and tried straightening it out, she frowned, “Phelps, this makes no sense”

“Not to idiots, of course” Phelps started again, her pen flying even quicker, and she crowded the figures closer, “but to me and him, ah, yes. We know what deadly dance we play. I should’ve known so much better, it’s him. It always is. Well, not always, but often. He likes toying with me, dangling a string in front of my face, and if I pull the string, all hell tumbles down on me” Phelps bit her lip, and started anew, “So, I’ll just cut the string, and see if it awakens the spider who spun it”

-Phelps 

“It’s been nearly 550 years since any living being has stepped foot on that once green expanse known as Earth, the home of life, the cradle of humanity, as it was torn from us”

Fern tapped her chin and looked at the blinking words on the dictation log.

“No, not torn from us. That makes it sound as if we had no part in the happenings that surrounded our flight from the planet, and that is entirely not true.  We had everything to do with it, and we will have everything to do with getting it back. 

-Jade 0.2

So, there it is, all my writing glory for the time being.  I must say, I'm rather proud of my current works.  Oh, and, I was partly mistaken, there are some interesting things that have arisen, such as,
1- I'm going to see Les Miserables
2- I went to a 1940s Murder Mystery Dinner Party (I'll have pictures presently).
and
3- And I really think that is quite all.

-signed with red fingernails, since that was "the style" of the 40s and I just haven't removed it yet
Ashley.

The Author

She tapped her chin, and gazed at the sky of words before her.

“Still dwelling on what’s done?” A man came up behind her, standing a respectful distance from her, and yet the feeling of adoration was almost visible.

“No, not on what’s done, but what was left unfinished” she frowned, and twirled a creamy colored quill pen in the fingers of her right hand.

“You left, let your heart dwell here, my lady” he took a step forward, a frown of worry creasing his brow.

“But should I have left? Where they ready for me to step away?” she turned towards him, a strand of blond hair falling in her face, and she brushed it away, her eyes turning sad.  She added softly, with a tinge of remorse haunting her words, “Was I ready?”

“You know I am not capable of answering such questions for you, my lady”

She nodded, “I know…I know” she turned to look up at the dark sky absent of stars, but with cursive writing etched across it’s black expanse,  “they call for me, their Mother, to return”

“And will you?” the man moved to stand next to her on the balcony overlooking a most mystical land of rivers, mountains, shadows and lights.

She nodded, and slipped her hand in his, “Can I not?” he smiled, and squeezed her hand, “Writer Mother, do what you must.  You are our creator and you are the only one who can choose where your heart goes, but all I ask is…”

She nodded, knowing what he wanted to say, but was afraid to word.

She knew him, for he was a piece of her heart, as was this whole place, and every other place, every other world, her worlds.

“I will return to you, but I must finish the business I left undone.  My heart will never be easy until I finish writing what I had started” she smiled up at him, and for a moment, wanted to hug him close like a Mother to her child, “How can I not return to one of my children?”

He laughed lightly, “I don’t think you can” he folded her into a hug, holding his Author Mother close before backing away, “We shall await your return, my lady”

She gathered her long skirts about her, and went to stand near a shimmering doorway that appeared from thin air, its surface looking rather like an inked painting.

“Do you think I fully leave you? Even while I am with the others, I shall be here too; I cannot leave me children completely.  Even if it is in going to another” she blew him a kiss, and stepped through the doorway, her being disappearing into another fictional world bared to him.

And truth she had spoken, her heart remained.  It was divided among all her children, divided in all the worlds she had created; A piece of her forever remaining even when it was finished and grown.  Even when she set them to sail off on their own, as she stood on the shore, waving her banner, and drying her eyes with a fragranced handkerchief, she remained with them. Her mother spirit wafting like a gentle breeze.

He smiled, and took a deep breath, and watched as her writing instruments turned into a curl of smoke, and headed up towards the worded skies, doubtlessly going to join her in the other world she had left to.

And he turned back to the castle, heading to do the tasks the Author Mother had already set for him to do.

One doesn’t have much spare time when your Author likes to have dragons slain, trained, and befriended.

You know, I truly have no idea where this sprang from.....but, in case you wonder, its me and an unnamed male character.

And yet....I think I've started a new story as well.....

It was so weird.....and....nice. It just felt...just nice. 

Tell me if my constant writing chatter is boring you to tears....

 

Demetrius//Emi//Xander

:UPDATE: I changed the URL, so please go to Hushashleyspeaks.blogspot.com and refollow! Thanks!

“So, uh, what did you say your name was again?”Allison handed him a cup of coffee, and glanced at him over her own Starbuck’scup.  “De-Demetrius” He paled, and thensmiled, “And, I heard that man call you Allison?”

She put her cup down; “Yeah” Silently she couldn’thelp but wonder what sort of name ‘Demetrius’ was. “Do you get called Demetriusin full, or do people shorten it to something, like, ya know, Demi, or Demen?”

Demetrius bit his bottom lip, it was an utterly attractiveand adorable action, and Allison had to sudden look down, under pretense offinding her chap stick, due to her blush.

“Well, uh, they tend to call me Grim…And that’s justa start” Demetrius glanced around, and looked positively panicked.

“Grim?” He looked ready to run, and Allisonfrowned, “Hey, it’s not something to be ashamed of. I mean, I was calledStinker when I was little”

His panicked expression faded, and he sat back alittle in his seat, “R-really? That’s pretty terrible” He laughed lightly, andtook another sip from his coffee.

“Yeah, tell me about it” Allison rolled her eyes, “Theyfinally stopped calling me that when I was around Seventeen.  Anyway, Demetrius is a bit long on thetongue, and I won’t call you Grim, can I call you Demi? I’ve always loved thename Demi”

He fidgeted slightly, then slowly met my eyes, “I’dlike that very much”

-Grim

As he let the man drop, Emi backed further awayfrom him, what was this creature who faintly resembled the Vice she knew?

He laughed, but it was a pained one, and if shecould see his face, Emi would have noticed that Vice’s emotions were beingsplayed across his newly gained face, and it seemed he couldn’t decide whetherto rejoice, or be disgraced with himself.

He fell to his knees, all while looking at hishands, and then he covered his face, a sobbing laugh filling the air. 

She stared wide eyed at him, and shuffled to herfeet, “Who are you? What are you?” she begged for it to not be Vice, she knewall too well what this creature was, and should it be Vice…she would have tokill him.  She would have to kill himanyway, but the thought of killing the man who had saved her so many times,repulsed her.

He stopped that terrible crying laugh, and stood,his height still being a couple inches above her, without turning to face her,he whispered, “Are you going to kill me? You are terrified of me, I can senseit” he took a deep breath, and looked up at the darkening moon, “Your fear,though, its different then…his” he gestured at the shrunken man whose lifeforce he had just drained.

Emi held her hands up in attack form, “Fear, isthat what your race drains?”

Vice bent to retrieve his cloak, and Emi tensed.

“I’m just putting my cloak on, no threat” Vice,still not turning to face her, held up a hand. It was dark, nearly as dark asthe shadow he stood in, except for red swirls that looked, etched. They glowedfaintly, but not enough to disperse the darkness around him.

“You want to hide your face?” Emi asked sharply.

“I fear, I am probably horrid looking” His voicewas pained, and was a little back to the normal Vice she knew, but yet, he wasdifferent. Very, very different. 

-The Story of Emi

 Xander wanted to run after her, but he heard his name being called from across the courtyard.
General Beleg, a dwarf who made up for his short stature with a huge voice and bravery.
"Xander Bolivar!" He came up to Xander, and caught the last glimpse of Bly fleeing the area.
"What's wrong with her?" He asked, jerking a thumb in the way Bly had taken. Xander shrugged, which the pain in his arm quickly scolded him for, "I have no idea sir, something seems to have upset her"
Beleg laughed, "Well, that's apparent. It's good to see even Elvish woman get temperamental and moody"
Xander nodded, and Beleg glanced up at him, "Oy, Captain Bolivar, you plan on just letting her run away?"
Xander started to reply, but hearing his Aragathian Gaurd title used snapped at his attention, "General, I- Nithron I suppose informed you to my status? I'd be more then pleased if you wanted me to testify in front of a court, I'd completely underst-"
Beleg chuckled, and drew a rolled up paper from his coat, "In fact, I knew before Nithron told me" he held the paper out, and Xander hesitantly took it with his good arm.
"We got this from one of our men inside Aragathia..."

"I write to inform General Beleg Stonesir of the expected arrival of a dear friend of mine, Captain Xander Bolivar. He should arrive with the Elven Ambassador Bly Fernwalker"

It went on to go into enough praise to cause Xander discomfort, he skipped to the bottom where an all too familiar seal was pressed into that signature red wax.

"Greven Yark: Chief of Archery, and humble servant to the Freedom Movement"

Xander stared at the seal for a moment, Greven? It seemed like he somehow always knew, the way Greven acted, a thing he would say,
It made sense now.
Beleg coughed, drawing Xander back to the present, as he handed the letter back to the Dwarfish commander, Beleg said "I am not often found disagreeing with Lt. Yark, and I don't plan to now" he extended his hand, "Welcome to Revelin, Captain Bolivar" his grip was firm and incredible strong, and he walked off with a smile, but a few steps, and he stopped, "Oh, just a hint of advice, Captain. It's best to not leave a woman alone when she is in distress. It grows quicker then mushrooms over night, and often can get more terrifying then a full grown warrior Dragon" he winked, and strode off.
Xander waited until the General was gone, and took off quickly in the direction Bly had fled.

-The Incantevole Tales

Just some current brainstorming of mine. The Story of Emi is my NaNo novel, and Grim is a 'I-Must-Not-Get-Attached-Before-NaNoWriMo' Novel. And The Incantevole Tales is a RP story I'm working on with a few friends of mine. You can read the rest of it HERE. I write Bly and Xander, FYI.

Oh, and just so you know, I'm failing horribly at not getting attached to Demetrius/Demi and Allison. Particular Demi.

The Girl who gets attached to everything, 

The One who is excited for NaNoWriMo to start,

The One who is also anxious over NaNoWriMo's start,

Ashley.

Linking up to Katie's Snippets of a Story. Thinking about it, so should you. 

P.S you might notice, the new URL.