Copying Arothas...riliye Style!

Posted by Riliye, 13th January 2010, 15:59

So I read your blog, Arothas, and stole your survey and shall now complete it! HA!



Does nothing happen in the first fifty pages?
So far...quite a bit happens within 50 pages. Too much really. I gotta slow it down.

Is your main character a young farmhand with mysterious parentage?
Not really. She was born in the slums and would have stayed there had she not accidentally come to the attention of Nobleman Stroth.

Is your main character the heir to the throne but doesn't know it?
No, although she *does* almost marry a king at one point. Thankfully, she is rescued before the ceremony.

Is your story about a young character who comes of age, gains great power, and defeats the supreme bad guy?
Not really. Kay is already of age when the story starts, she never really gains great power, and the supreme bad guy has already wrecked their world and left them stuck with a lesser bad guy.

Is your story about a quest for a magical artifact that will save the world?
Um...no.

How about one that will destroy it?
Also no.

Does your story revolve around an ancient prophecy about "The One" who will save the world and everybody and all the forces of good?
I'm not even sure there is prophecy in my world. Thus far, I have yet to see it.

Does your novel contain a character whose sole purpose is to show up at random plot points and dispense information?
Not thus far.

Does your novel contain a character that is really a god in disguise?
The closest thing is Kay's mentor, and he's just really powerful.

Is the evil supreme bad guy secretly the father of your main character?
Nope, my main character's father dies as a point.

Is the king of your world a kindly king duped by an evil magician?
Nope. He's an evil jerk who just happens to make an amazing king by hiding his true nature from the populace. Unfortunately, without him the whole Kingdom would fall apart and essentially be annihilated as the entirety of the noble class save him died when the Supreme Bad Guy invaded.

Does "a forgetful wizard" describe any of the characters in your novel?
Oh Harleton...you weren't forgetful, and you gave your life to save us...

How about "a powerful but slow and kind-hearted warrior"?
He's not slow, he's just greedy and paranoid, then some major events happen and he grows a conscience.

How about "a wise, mystical sage who refuses to give away plot details for his own personal, mysterious reasons"?
Not really. Radiant Darr comes close, but he doesn't give away plot details because doing so would change them...and they have to stay the way they are else everyone else the Supreme Bad Guy wins. Even so, he does give away some plot details. *glares at Kendross*

Do the female characters in your novel spend a lot of time worrying about how they look, especially when the male main character is around?
Well...I can't say much for the non-main female characters...but otherwise the only female character in my book is Kay...and she doesn't really. Other things on her mind and all.

Do any of your female characters exist solely to be captured and rescued?
Nope

Do any of your female characters exist solely to embody feminist ideals?
O_o No?

Would "a clumsy cooking wench more comfortable with a frying pan than a sword" aptly describe any of your female characters?
*snorts*

Would "a fearless warrioress more comfortable with a sword than a frying pan" aptly describe any of your female characters?
Nope.

Is any character in your novel best described as "a dour dwarf"?
The Dwarven King is momentarily dour...but only because the relationship between humanity and dwarf-kind is strained to begin with and they got caught in his kingdom. Thank goodness for political charisma.

How about "a half-elf torn between his human and elven heritage"?
Half-elves usually don't much make it well, so no.

Did you make the elves and the dwarves great friends, just to be different?
Well...there's really no good relationships between any of the races, honestly. They're too different to get along, as a rule.

Does everybody under four feet tall exist solely for comic relief?
Um, no.

Do you think that the only two uses for ships are fishing and piracy?
Nope.

Do you not know when the hay baler was invented?
I fail to see what this has to do with anything...even *now*, present day, people still make haystacks instead of baling. Don't get all condescending.

Did you draw a map for your novel which includes places named things like "The Blasted Lands" or "The Forest of Fear" or "The Desert of Desolation" or absolutely anything "of Doom"?
Most places have quite normal names...

Does your novel contain a prologue that is impossible to understand until you've read the entire book, if even then?
I don't think it has a prologue...but it's not finished, so who knows?

Is this the first book in a planned trilogy?
I don't know. There will be another one, once this is finished.

How about a quintet or a decalogue?
That's a lot of books.

Is your novel thicker than a New York City phone book?
Nope. If anything, it will be a little too short for a fantasy novel.

Did absolutely nothing happen in the previous book you wrote, yet you figure you're still many sequels away from finishing your "story"?
This question offends me. Also, I'm not finished with said previous book.

Are you writing prequels to your as-yet-unfinished series of books?
Nope.

Is your name Robert Jordan and you lied like a dog to get this far?
Robert Jordan is dead.

Is your novel based on the adventures of your role-playing group?
Vaguely.

Does your novel contain characters transported from the real world to a fantasy realm?
Oi. Let's not even think about that. No, it does not.

Do any of your main characters have apostrophes or dashes in their names?
Nope.

Do any of your main characters have names longer than three syllables?
Yes, but they all have surnames, so it's to be expected.

Do you see nothing wrong with having two characters from the same small isolated village being named "Tim Umber" and "Belthusalanthalus al'Grinsok"?
That hurts my brain.

Does your novel contain orcs, elves, dwarves, or halflings?
All but halflings, yes. If it weren't for the Big Bad Guys right now, orcs would be the main cause of terror.

How about "orken" or "dwerrows"?
Nope.

Do you have a race prefixed by "half-"?
Very few half-breeds survive long enough to be considered.

At any point in your novel, do the main characters take a shortcut through ancient dwarven mines?
If by shortcut you mean, prowl the dwarven mines looking for a rare gem in hopes of gaining payment to resurrect their fallen companion...then perhaps.

Do you write your battle scenes by playing them out in your favorite RPG?
No...but believe me, the more played out they were, the harder they are to write.

Have you done up game statistics for all of your main characters in your favorite RPG?
Yes and no

Are you writing a work-for-hire for Wizards of the Coast?
Nope.

Do inns in your book exist solely so your main characters can have brawls?
Inns are for sleeping, silly.

Do you think you know how feudalism worked but really don't?
Is there really a good answer to this question? If I think I know how it works, am I going to know I really don't?

Do your characters spend an inordinate amount of time journeying from place to place?
Traveling takes time...like real life, ya know?

Could one of your main characters tell the other characters something that would really help them in their quest but refuses to do so just so it won't break the plot?
Nope...closest thing is Kendross...and it wouldn't help any. That's a personal quest, I guess.

Do any of the magic users in your novel cast spells easily identifiable as "fireball" or "lightning bolt"?
Don't most magic users cast those? They're like the best!

Do you ever use the term "mana" in your novel?
Nope

Do you ever use the term "plate mail" in your novel?
This is a silly question.

Heaven help you, do you ever use the term "hit points" in your novel?
...and this one hurts my soul.

Do you not realize how much gold actually weighs?
Yes, I do. What did you think I'd say, "Omg, I never thought of that"?

Do you think horses can gallop all day long without rest?
These questions are irritating me, now.

Does anybody in your novel fight for two hours straight in full plate armor, then ride a horse for four hours, then delicately make love to a willing barmaid all in the same day?
That would be an outrageously long battle...and no.


Does your main character have a magic axe, hammer, spear, or other weapon that returns to him when he throws it?
It's generally a bad thing when crossbow bolts return to you.

Does anybody in your novel ever stab anybody with a scimitar?
No...but there is quite a bit of stabbing.

Does anybody in your novel stab anybody straight through plate armor?
Gotta agree with Arothas...pikes.

Do you think swords weigh ten pounds or more?
A very, very poorly made one might.

Does your hero fall in love with an unattainable woman, whom he later attains?
My hero is a woman...soo...no.

Does a large portion of the humor in your novel consist of puns?
Nope.

Is your hero able to withstand multiple blows from the fantasy equivalent of a ten pound sledge but is still threatened by a small woman with a dagger?
Nope. She couldn't withstand that...and a woman with a dagger is still a threat.

Do you really think it frequently takes more than one arrow in the chest to kill a man?
Actually, all it takes is one well-placed one...she finds this out the hard way.

Do you not realize it takes hours to make a good stew, making it a poor choice for an "on the road" meal?
They're not exactly the outdoors-y type, so they just eat rations.

Do you have nomadic barbarians living on the tundra and consuming barrels and barrels of mead?
I wonder if mead would freeze on the tundra...

Do you think that "mead" is just a fancy name for "beer"?
Pretty sure there's little to no honey in beer.

Does your story involve a number of different races, each of which has exactly one country, one ruler, and one religion?
That's kinda silly...and no.

Is the best organized and most numerous group of people in your world the thieves' guild?
Nope

Does your main villain punish insignificant mistakes with death?
No...he has a reputation to maintain.

Is your story about a crack team of warriors that take along a bard who is useless in a fight, though he plays a mean lute?
I don't even think they've met a bard...

Is "common" the official language of your world?
Yes and no. There are different dialects, and each race has their own language, but there is one common language, yes. Otherwise it would be quite difficult to communicate back and forth.

Is the countryside in your novel littered with tombs and gravesites filled with ancient magical loot that nobody thought to steal centuries before?
No?

Is your book basically a rip-off of The Lord of the Rings?
Nope.

Read that question again and answer truthfully.
NO!

Posh And Sporty Spice: A Snails Chronicle

Posted by Riliye, 18th September 2007, 14:57

So those of you who are familiar with Posh and Sporty Spice who live in my aquarium will be happy to know that the algae wafers have done wonders in perking them up. It seems that the poor things WERE starving, which makes me feel truly horrible.

Okay now. My fishes are named after the Spice Girls. Why? I don't know, they just are. The orange one is Baby Spice, the speckled one is Ginger Spice, the black one is Scary Spice, and the two snails are Posh and Sporty Spice, respectively. (Which one's which? I have no idea.)

They really aren't as big as they look in that picture. Each of them are about an inch and a half (that's including the tail!) long and the snails are smaller than a quarter but bigger than a nickel. They eat like greedy little mofos though. So my three fishes were eating all the food I gave them, and there was no stuff accumulating in the bottom of the tank. Good deal, right?

WRONG!

What I thought was my snails doing an immaculate job of keeping the aquarium clean was actually my fish not letting anything accumulate for the snails to eat! And so, two days ago when Sporty Spice was laying on her back unmoving, I began to realize. At first, I thought maybe she was just dying. After all, Posh was doing fine. The next day, both Posh AND Sporty were laying on their backs unmoving. I started to fret. So I did some research on the internet and found out that snails really do actually need an algae supplement if your fish are greedy (like mine).

So I bought some algae wafers at Wal-mart last night, dropped them in when I got back to the room, and VIOLA! This morning both snails are perky as can be and no longer belly-up on the bottom.

Proof that I'm a bad snail mother? Probably.

Ri's Audio Blog

Posted by Riliye, 4th March 2007, 18:44

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseacti...eoid=2012773045

Hear my very first audioblog! At least, I think it works....

Prologue And Chapter 1

Posted by Riliye, 1st March 2007, 21:00

'The trouble all started with one name: Lord Spada de Reich. Although Sede Bella had been peaceful in the weeks up until the day before, an uneasiness filled the air, making even the calmest angel paranoid about what lay in wait around the corner. Scouts had been sent out for the past week, searching in vain for the cause of the feeling, and even the clairvoyants had been interrogated to no avail. When the demons struck, they had hit the weak points of the city without fail, one after another. The great commander of the Underworld, Lord Spada, had led the silent charge flawlessly at the change of the guard and dealt heavy losses from the very beginning. Although the angels had managed to rally, the damage had been done. The walls were breached in a fury of hellfire and brimstone, and the chaos in the streets had killed even more than that. Now was a time of bloodshed and death…a time where demons and devils lay in the laps of luxury, and where an evil Overlord sat on the throne of the angels. The great Celestial city lay in crumbles at the feet of Lord Spada de Reich…could it recover?'

______________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

The city had fallen. Dark clouds roiled in the sky, each one crashing over another in a bitter struggle for dominance as the battle finally waned on the ground below. A deep mist punctuated with the sweet copper of blood and the acrid stench of fetid demon wreathed the walls of the city, now broken and bloodstained from the heavy weight of battle and loss. Sede Bella was overrun with demons. The darkness of this evil crushed down on the shoulders of the angels, who had retreated to the one place even the vilest of demons could not disturb without retribution – the holy sanctuary of the Gods.

The sanctuary was huge –it had to be to hold the favor of the Gods, but hardly large enough to hold the whole of the heavenly host. Luckily, recent underground additions to the University inside had made the small area almost tolerable. For now, bodies were packed in every available space and the younglings were held indefinitely in classes to stave off certain panic. War-angels lined the outer limits, striking as often as possible at the ranks of demons attempting to desecrate the holy place in hopes of toppling the angels from the favor of the Gods. Although their efforts had been great, they could not turn the tide of this battle.

Oryon paced the length of the inner chamber, his wickedly jagged wings clenching in rhythm with his fists as he ground his teeth. The scream of enamel was almost audible as the sharp points scraped across one another. “I will not abandon our youth to death and its devils!” he shouted angrily, his predatory golden eyes burning with suppressed rage. The panel of angels before him breathed collectively.

“Lesser Oryon,” spoke the High Priestess. “Remember your position beneath the ranks of your elders. I beg of you, cease your harsh words and remember that your superiors are your superiors for a reason—“

“You were chosen by a petty God for your abilities to tickle his fancies, not your abilities to lead,” Oryon snarled, fists clenched tightly. A united roar of protest sprung from the panel and one angel in particular rose to her feet.

“Lesser War-angel Oryon! Stay your wicked sword of a tongue against your allies before we are forced from the favor of the Gods for striking you where you stand! We were not made your superiors for our abilities to tickle YOUR fancies; we were put in charge because of our collective abilities to rule a city!” High Archangel Anine shouted, slamming her delicate palms against the long connected desk that stretched before her colleagues and herself.

Oryon turned his wicked gaze to the High Priestess standing before him, her chest heaving with anger at his words. “Tickle my fancies?” He mused quietly, his gaze never leaving hers. Anine’s eyes widened slightly before her jaw muscles tightened even further in anger. Forcing his anger down, the War-angel began to pace again, his eyes turned downward to the floor. “I apologize for my offensive words,” he began, rather obviously choosing his words carefully. “But the thought of dooming so many of our recumbent youth to a life of constant hell is cruel.”

“They would not be doomed, Oryon…” Anine said softly, settling back into her chair. “This course of action is as the Highest wishes. He has spoken his wishes, and we must comply. I know you know as well as any youngling angel that the Highest walks hand-in-hand with the Gods themselves; he knows what is best for our race…”

“They would be sentenced to a life among mere mortals!” Oryon exploded once more, his pacing frenzied. “Forced to hide what they are in hopes that maybe we will be able to force these disgusting demons and devils from our doorsteps! It could be centuries An—High Archangel! Centuries! How many will have passed their potential by then? How many more will we be forced to exile? How many will we lose to the darkness? Yes, I see in your eyes that you all know of whom I speak. I knew her too, and banishing her to the Abyss did little to help our cause, did it!”

“That is enough, Lesser War-angel!” roared Archangel Tibetus. “I have suffered your insolence long enough, and your continued disrespect of our High Priestess would be more than enough grounds to see your head in a bucket were she only a bit less lenient with your wild ways!” Tibetus shook his wings as he stood and made his way to the War-angel, only lacking a small breadth in matching the massive angel’s height. “I have fought amongst the Greater Army, insolent fool. I, too, shed blood for my beliefs at the hands of the cruel Lord Spada de Reich. Do not assume that your leadership of the Greater Army places you on a pedestal, Oryon.”

Oryon knew better than to retort in the face of his superior; Anine might be lenient with his behavior, but he knew Tibetus would not. The air gained an almost palpable feeling of tension as the Higher Angel invaded Oryon’s space. Though he knew it was a mistake, the Lesser angel could not help the rise of his wings in such close proximity to a male he considered inferior. His careful, strategic eye saw the older War-angel respond in kind to the threat to his dominance before restraining himself with a sneer.

“If you pursue this course of action,” Oryon said carefully as Tibetus backed down from his frightening gaze, “Then you do so without the support of the Greater Army and its troops.” His unwavering gaze left the eyes of Tibetus to pierce each of the five other Archangels present, holding Anine’s last and longest. “Should you happen to change your mind, you know where to find me. If I may be dismissed?” Oryon finished sarcastically. “I’ve an army to attend to.”

“Sit down Tibetus,” Anine said softly as Oryon bowed mockingly and strode from the room, taking most of the tension with him. What were they going to do? Should they follow the Highest’s order, the city would fall into pandemonium when the Greater Army retracted their protection, and then Spada would undoubtedly strike in the midst of the chaos; however, should they follow Oryon’s demands, the lot of them would likely be executed when the Highest returned. The High Priestess sighed. Oryon was the largest, most powerful War-angel she’d seen in her entire life – nine centuries—but his actions were so brash!

Anine sank deep into her thoughts. If Oryon was right, and the Highest’s course of action was wrong, this could be a test of faith from the Gods. The Highest had been in power now for…how long? A millennium? Anine tapped her chin thoughtfully. If a change of power was to occur and Oryon rose to High Angel, their love would no longer be forbidden. A smile graced her features until she realized she was being addressed.

“High Archangel Anine…you hold the rank of High Priestess. As the highest rank present among us now, what is your proposal?” Arese asked, her warm gentle voice doing much to calm the frenzied, tense chatter of the panel members. Anine smiled at the Archangel thankfully. Of all her colleagues, she got along best with the Lesser Priestess, perhaps because they’d spent so many of their University years together. Unfortunately, Anine hadn’t been listening to the conversation of her companions and couldn’t judge exactly how they would react to what she was going to say. She cleared her throat and motioned for silence.

“I fear a change of power is in progress,” Anine said calmly. “I cannot be sure as of now; I must convene with my Goddess. However, if it is as I suspect, we must adapt to the rising power. The panel will be severely weakened should we ignored him.”

Stunned silence rang loudly in the ears of the High Priestess before she was assaulted by panicked, outraged cries. Tibetus’ shout quieted even the loudest clamor. “Anine, separate your personal fancies from your job,” he hissed venomously, stalking over and dragging her from her chair and before the panel.

“Tibetus, what are you—“

“Shut up!” His dangerous snarl silenced the protests from the panel. “We know of her transgressions with that pathetic excuse for an angel,” he growled to his fellow Archangels, tightening his grip on Anine’s upper arm as she tried to wrench away from him. The High Priestess gasped as she felt his fingers digging into the delicate skin of her arm. “We have witnessed her sins too long and done nothing. These attacks are the Gods punishing us for allowing one of our own to live in filth and flaunt her disgusting self before us! Let us be done with this whole messy affair and kill her right here and now…” A collective gasp fled the lips of the panel members.

“Tibetus, let her go and – “

“No! She is wicked and I will not allow her to tarnish the name of my God with her licentious behavior!” Tibetus shouted, the orange-yellow of his eyes slowly bleeding red. Anine realized suddenly what was happening. Having been absent from battle for so many years, Tibetus’ pent up battle rage and bloodlust were attacking him. Sending out a desperate mental plea to Oryon for help although she knew War-angels could not receive, Anine closed her eyes and prayed.

‘Goddess, heed my cry and grant me strength to overcome this obstacle without breaking my oath. Should Oryon save me, I will do as he asks. Should he not, I will follow the Highest’s words. Should I not survive…well then the problems of this plane shall no longer be of my concern. My life rests, as always, in your hands.’

Anine felt a sudden sharp pain in her wings, followed by a scream that lasted forever in her mind. The sound was so disembodied that it was difficult for her to realize that the scream had been wrenched from her own lips. As she felt her body crumple in agony, a wisp of wind caressed her comfortingly. She realized that Arese had cast a wind spell to catch her discarded body. Before pain claimed her consciousness, Anine heard these words. “He’s come back!” ‘Everything will be okay, my child…’

Blowing Off Steam

Posted by Riliye, 19th February 2007, 20:14

I'm falling apart--
I'm shaking inside.
I need your help
I'm too tired to hide.

I try to be strong
and focused and firm,
But I can't find myself;
and it's too late to learn.

What happened to me?
I once was so happy.
Why must I go numb
and always feel crappy?

Help me, Hide me -
I can't last much longer.
My last sane thoughts
are breaking down.

Breathe - Give me air.
Why is my body so stifling?
Run, far away. Run and
find me a cure for this disease.

What horror rots my mind?
(They taunt me)
What plague sullies my soul?
(It guides me)
Why do I feel so alone?
(Am I?)

My mind is treacherous,
like an ice filled cave
slowly dripping
down the core.

How far can I skate without falling?
(Not far)
How do I climb back up?
(You can't)
Is there anyone who can save me?
(Only you)

Structure, Structure
Give reason to this madness.

Ca And I

Posted by Riliye, 26th January 2007, 03:18

Well, I can't upload them into my album, but I decided to see if I can put some pics up of CA and I! I love him uber bunches!!

Okay, so that one wasn't really us, but I thought it was uber cute. And yes, I stole this picture in the blog idea from Ceinwyn. SO shoot me. ^^



That's the uber cutest pic I have. And I said uber a lot. ENJOY!!!!

[untitled]

Posted by , 9th April 2006, 07:42

What is the difference between you and I?
You make her laugh; I make her cry.
Such a thin line between us, it's almost
nonexistent, that thin line between love
and hate.

What is the difference between the two of us?
It's simple: You're flexible; I'm callous.
She is a fire, burning, raging out of control,
drawing moths and butterflies from miles around.
How are we different? I have been burned, and
you are just now beginning to play with fire.

She drew us both in, at a different time,
and once her poisonous claws sink in,
she doesn't let go. It's intoxicating, addicting.
You drown in her eyes like a bee
would drown in sweetest honey,
knowing your doom approaches but
helpless to stop it.

How are we different? She has schooled me
in the art of pain and hurt, and you have not yet
begun to be tutored. She will break you as easily
as a tempest snaps a twig, and she fears it.

I can see it in her eyes how she longs for you.
I used to see that in her eyes when she was mine.

It's obvious, her tone, her rhythm...

How are we different? We're not, really.
I'm standing here to warn you about her,
and to tell you to protect your heart as I didn't
know to do. Don't let yourself be broken as I was.
Don't let yourself drown.

And yet, we are alike even more,
Because I see in your tone, your posture,
that you don't believe me. Or maybe you do,
but refuse to see it just yet. I was the same.
They tried to warn me, even she tried...
But I refused to listen. And now...

I'm broken. You're whole.

I know she deserves better...and you are better.
You know you are what she needs, what she wants,
and you're more than willing to give it to her. She
is more than willing to take it and stomp on your spirit.

I beg of you, please believe me.
I say this not to be cruel, though
I'm not denying that I would have at one time.
She doesn't mean to be so careless, no more than
a predator means to kill.

It's an instinct, and she is far too good at it.

Contrary To Popular Belief...

Posted by , 22nd March 2006, 17:57

You know how on all those old TV shows you see the old people complaining about how irresponsible and stupid the younger generation is? You know how teenagers (and young people in general) are almost always stereotyped in movies? The oldtimers always say that the young'uns (that's EastTennessean for y'all) don't appreciate just how easy they have it, that they don't understand how hard it could be.

Well, I know that that's true, most of the time. I know that, because I was brought up when I was, I take a lot of the things for granted that say, my mother or my grandparents are so grateful to have. But at least I realize how lucky I am. I know that I may not have it easy breezy all the time, but all-in-all, I'm a really damn lucky girl.

I'm paying my way through college without working full-time, I have my own computer, printer, MP3 player, a continually growing DVD/CD collection, so many books I could start a library, walkie-talkies, a CB radio, and a cell phone. Think how many of these things I could live without. All of them. Unfortunately, due to my age and the age I live in, it would probably eventually force me to kill myself...or would it better me completely?

I just got to thinking about how lucky I am. Thought I'd share for all you old-timers out there, because I'm sure you're reading MY interesting blog. *rolls her eyes*

He Wants You Back...

Posted by , 28th February 2006, 07:17

The eerie rattling of the blinds against her window did little to ease her nerves. It was late, too late, perhaps, but she'd gotten herself caught up in another story, just one more book, one more movie...just one more. It was her sickness, her poison...just one more. It seemed to follow her everywhere, in everything she did. One more kiss...one more guy...one more car...one more pair of jeans.

Curse those infernal blinds. The glare of the outside lights crippled her eyes as she glanced over into the blackness of her apartment room. Her sheer black curtains stood out almost straight from the window. There, she'd seen movement. Pah. She looked up at the ceiling, but out of her peripheral vision, there! They moved...

'You idiot, that's a plant.'

Or was it? Now that she took the time to more than casually observe the shadow, it had suspicious depth for a plant. HOLY! No...that was no plant...it moved before her very eyes. She could see it...her eyes darted to the phone on her nightstand. Why, oh why had she ever put her nightstand at the foot of the bed? The phone was closer to the shadow than it was to her...

She heard an almost inaudible snip, and knew then that he'd cut her phone line. There was a phone in the kitchen...but he'd likely gotten that one on his way in. And she'd thought she'd hidden herself so well, that she'd escaped their grasp.

'Never...not you. He wants you back, and this one is here to make sure you go.'

Chapter 2

Posted by , 17th January 2006, 06:48

Chapter 2: [Untitled]

"Amber, I know you really do want to come to the movies with me. You always go to the movies with me,” Abbie pleaded. “Don't make me go by myself,” she threatened. Why was it her best friend always brought out that incredible urge to hurl the phone across the room?

“Abbie, I'd love to go, but I've told you already, I'm busy…” Abbie gritted her teeth, her grip tightening on the cordless phone.

“Ok, don't worry about it Amber. I'll go to the movies alone, and when I get butchered like that one girl on Scream, you'll be sorry,” She said, slamming the phone down onto the receiver. She almost regretted it. It wasn't Amber's fault that she was so lonesome. Why did she have to get so lucky as to have Friday night off? Even Amber had a date. She was happily going out to dinner with her Jeremy.

Abbie rolled her eyes before sighing and walked back to her bedroom, debating whether she wanted to go out at all. Cruising the town really wasn't all that fun to do alone. She shrugged and pulled on a black tank top and khaki shorts. Anything beat staying here. Alone.

She peered outside, yep, still dark. Abbie grimaced. She really hated these fall nights, when it got dark so early and was just cold enough to put a chill in the air. She pulled her long hair up into a ponytail and soon enough she was jogging out to her car, lip curled in disgust at the dust caked on her beautiful black baby.

“Stupid road work,” She muttered. “Never seems to be done.”

Inside she turned on the radio, and finding an appropriate song for her mood, pulled out of her driveway. Her anger and frustration eventually dissipated as she slid around graveled curves, clouds of chalky white dust billowing behind her and settling on her car. After nearly spinning out around a curve and barely missing a wide-eyed tourist, Abbie decided to calm her speed-demon inner self.

The radio blared as she drove along, angry at the world and all the happy people in it. Eventually she would cool down, but most likely not until after the movie. She'd chosen the one that looked the scariest, and actually hadn't even cared to remember the name, just hoping that she came out of it scared out of her wits. And she did.
'

<><><>

Nikolii lurked in the shadows. No one knew him by that name, well, except for the ones he killed. They rarely seemed pleased to find out his name. He sighed. He really did like telling it to people...maybe it was just his sense of drama getting to him. He almost missed his human days, when he'd been the star of the theatre productions and had had the opportunity to perform for so many. Now he had plenty of time to perform...but couldn't risk the publicity. Pity...he rather thought he was good at acting.

With a heavy sigh he broke out of his depressing thoughts. Tonight was the night. It would begin...and then she would be his…and he would be hers, if she would have him. Most likely she wouldn't. Too bad. That just made what he planned to do all the more pungent. He wanted her, God how he wanted her, and until this woman, nothing had stopped him from getting what he wanted. This time his failure was chalked up to the unfortunate arrival of her dumb dog, but soon enough…soon enough she would be alone, and no one to hear her screams but him…

A shiver of delight raced down his spine, and an evil grin split his face. She would scream for him. His pointy teeth glinted in the evening light. The time couldn't come soon enough.

<><><>

Abbie had never been more terrified in her life. Well, actually, she had, but at this time and moment she was pretty scared. She always hated those horror movies that used things that were possible in reality. It made her imagine those things, like burglars in her car and mountain lions in her house. She sighed.

Around every corner and in every shadow she saw them, all waiting for her to glance their way so they could disappear without a trace, or appear elsewhere. She glanced in her rear-view mirror. A lone car drove behind her, inspiring thoughts of serial murderers and kidnappings. She sped up a bit, turning onto her road without using her blinker.

“That'll throw 'em off,” She whispered in satisfaction. It wasn't like people did that every day or anything...

Images flitted at the side of the road, pulling her gaze every now and then. Most of them, however, looked poorly thought up and overdone. She was so tired…she sighed, turning her attention back to the road, and for a moment the images went away. That is, until one particularly well thought up image stood on the side of the road. Abbie squinted at the figure ahead. That wasn't a make-believe hallucination that her mind had produced! There really was someone standing on the side of the road. 'Hey, I recognize him…' her mind said as she assessed the upcoming stranger. ' Is that...? No, couldn't be. Maybe he's lost…Oh well, I'm not stopping. Note to self: Stop over-reacting.'

Dark red hair splayed down his back, held in place by a band. It reflected golden in the moonlight, just as his jade eyes reflected silver, almost like those of a cat. Though he was dressed in all black, it somehow made him stand out, instead of blending in. A smirk graced his features, and when Abbie didn't slow down, he stepped directly into her path.

“D*mn!” Abbie cursed, jerking the wheel roughly to her right, and the car dove off the side of the road and plunged through the trees. A shriek battered at her throat as she finally had the presence of mind to slam on her brakes as tree branches pummeled and scratched at her car.

Her car came to rest in a moonlit clearing, something underneath the hood ticking as heat rose. A choked sob escaped her as the engine bogged and died. The lights flickered uneasily before plunging her into total darkness. She unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out, looking back in the direction she'd plunged. She wasn't that far into the woods…or had that b*stard just walked on and left her to rot here?

The feeling of being watched quickly grew into full-blown paranoia as Abbie neared the road but still saw no sign of the figure she'd almost hit. He'd looked suspiciously like the figure from the night before. Maybe she really was insane.

“But then, maybe you're not…” came a whisper from behind her. The lights of her car flashed on, bright to eyes that had just gotten used to the dark. She whirled around and shaded her eyes, only to find nothing. That voice had definitely not been in her head. “Over here…” it taunted, from the bushes deeper in the woods. “Come find me, little blossom.”

Abbie froze then spun in a circle. Only her father had called her that.

“Who are you?!” she demanded.

“Perhaps a better question is where am I?” the voice drawled. “But allow me to indulge you, my dear. I'm a secret, known only to myself and the few who evade me,” Came the reply. “You may call me Nikolii.” A body materialized to fit the voice. He stepped from the bushes, posture laced with menace, arrogance, and an undercurrent of…something Abbie couldn't quite put her finger on.

“You're the guy I nearly ran over! And from the parking garage! Why you have to go and jump in front of me! Why are you following me!!” she demanded, stalking the few steps until the distance between them was mere. She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “You knew I was coming! I saw you!”

Nik grabbed the wrist in front of him, his gaze momentarily fixed on the pulsing vein, but narrowed silver eyes trailed slowly back to her face. His grip was not gentle, and he could feel her struggling to pull away. He heard her gasp as he pushed her against a tree, her wrist captured above her head. Her eyes shone with fear. Just what would he do with her? He leaned towards her, his lips mere centimeters from hers. “It does not bode well for frightened females to taunt me. I don't have very much self-control,” He whispered, his breath like butterflies against her lips. “You'd best not throw yourself at things unknown.”

Abbie dared not move. Who was this man? This man who could walk in front of her car, entice her to walk further into the woods, now had her held helpless against a tree and still made the first stirrings of passion tingle through her stomach even as he wound hidden threats around his words?

“Who are you?” she whispered again, her voice filled with fear. She knew she held no power against this man, whoever he was. Nik laughed.

“You are not very good at asking questions, my dear. It is not who I am that is important. Perhaps you should ask what. That much I can tell you. I am your destiny, Abbie,” he said, a grin growing as suddenly, he stepped back into the forest and disappeared.

Abbie's arm dropped. She sank, breathless, to the leaves beneath her. The rich smell of sap was dominant as she struggled to regain her composure. Her destiny? What the hell? That really didn't make much sense. She stood, a bit uncertainly, but stood nonetheless, and resisted the urge to run back to her car. How had he known her name? She had never really been one to believe in fate and destiny and all those things, and this really didn't fuel much of an answer inside her. The words traced in the dust on her car, however, were enough to strike fear and wonder in her heart.


“My presence haunts your footsteps”