Pages

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Materialism

There's a certain bittersweet taste to packing up one's belongings into a series of boxes (always too many) and saying goodbye to a place you've spent enough time to have unpacked them in the first place. You'd think you'd get used to it after having lived an entire life based on the uprooting of a family unit every four years; maybe some people do get used to it, I'll admit there's a certain appeal to allowing yourself to acclimatise to it, but I can say with surety, if I ever felt good about it, that part is long gone. I don't hate many things, but I do hate moving.

I don't actually dislike the packing, or the unpacking, that's doable, and often even entertaining - and a really god time to go through belongings and say 'that's really got to go'. I figure I've done my part for charity this year, to say the least.

I've re-made an astounding discovery: I have a lot of things. What can I say? I'm a material girl, and I like it that way.

Sometimes 'materialism' develops a bad connotation, certainly the drift in my nuclear family. Sure, you could want it, but why would you need it? That seemed to have been the general feeling of my growing up. Don't get me wrong, I think it's saved me from growing up into a spoiled rich brat, but I've also realised that I like shiny things, I like gadgets and technology, I like fancy cars and expensive jewelry, I like Diesel jumpers and shirts and jeans, I like my shiny new boots that I didn't really need but I really wanted. I've also come to the late-life discovery that it's okay to like these things, even if I can't get them all at once, it's alright to aspire to own that shiny plasma TV or that blu-ray player, or want to drive an expensive car after I've got a liscence.

It's weird, having these epiphanies all at once. It's probably because I'm doing this 'on my own' for the first time, with a little help from friends, but not with my parents - bar the financial aspect of course. I guess I've realised that I'm really allowed to be my own person, with my own opinions, grown up in my own right. I don't have to hold to the person people expect me to be.

Huh. It's weird, and probably a long time in the coming, but you know what? I feel damn good about it.

Little scared about the move, little intimidated by other circumstances, but excited too, really excited to be doing this and to be moving forward. I've picked what I wanted, I can work out how to get there, and then...the world is my oyster.

=^.^=

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Thinking Out Loud: Fadeless.

Originally posted here...


It wasn't even her real name; "Mirror" was what they called her because that's where they'd found her: next to the Mirror Pond, one of the places where water settled in the wide open desert. She had been with the Deyshann for seventeen years now, more or less; adopted into their ranks, even doted upon by the Kardis - the great ruler of all the clans - but she didn't even know her real name. She had been six or seven when they had found her, curled up. She was human, something that the Deyshanni Elves hardly cared about, mostly peaceful as they were. Of course, the Commander of the Knights of the Veil had had a word or two to say about that, but Kardis Myriahl had stepped in and that was the end of that and Mirror had been adopted straight into her household as a ward. This meant of course that she had had an adequate playmate in the Kardis' only child, a son named Dahr'kyr. Dahr would not inherit his mother's crown or throne, that would pass to her nearest female relative, in this case a young cousin who Mirror rarely saw.

She stared up at the sky now, absently pucking at the embroidery on the veil that clung to her face. All Deyshann wore them, the longer and more elaborate the veil, the higher your status was. Ironically, only the Knights didn't wear them; practicality must have won out over showmanship.

"What're you thinking about?" Dahr asked her and she became aware that he had been watching her for some time now.

"This..Feranathi princess of yours - " Mirror started hesitantly.

"Rayhn?" Dahr offered with some amusement.

"Yes...she's a little short tempered, isn't she?"

"You have no idea, rai," Dahr told her, laughing loud enough to draw the eyes of his mother and fiance both.

Mirror studied the shapely form of Princess Rayhn Saldin-yn'Ameandir, the eldest and only daughter of Cordin of Feranath. She had heard that the the elven princess was a Visionary, able to see flashes of the future. Rumour had it that she was terrified about this marriage to Dahr on accounts that she had foreseen herself as the cause of his death, and yet, because they loved each other - and no doubt, because Dahr had probably spun a foolishly masculine line like 'I do not fear death' - they were going ahead with this anyway. Part of Mirror thought it was highly romantic, but the overpowering sense of pragmatism that she had told her that this mushy business, alliances or no, had a chance of killing her Prince. She sighed and shook her head.

"You'll like her, little sister," Dahr assured her, "in a lot of ways, you two are well-matched."

"Well, for you, I will try," Mirror murmured and Dahr smiled reaching across the distance between them to ruffle her hair.

"Hey!" she protested, trying to keep her veil in place as she tried kick back at him from the saddle. Dahr laughed again and booted his horse, catching up with his fiancee and mother.

Mirror watched him in silence for a moment as she adjusted her attire. "Well," she thought to herself, "if you love each other then be happy, but I for one will not let you die."

It was then that she saw a look that passed between the princess and her intended. There was such joy there, such unbound happiness, limitless that it made Mirror's eyes well up. That in itself made it all worthwhile, didn't it? To see Dahr this happy?

Mirror looked up into the sky and breathed in the desert air, dry and rough as it always seemed to her. High above them, the moon was full and brilliant, and all around the caravan the desert was thrumming with its age-old rhythms. Mirror smiled.Truly a beautiful night, even for one with a name not her own.

Had to change Dark'yn's name to Dahr'kyr, the pun was getting a little childish and old. I think I'll like Mirror, she might even become a regular character in Fadeless, she'd be a useful tool to spark Rayhn's temper for starters.

I realised I haven't really done a lot of work in Deyshann. I know very little about them save for the random on-off mentions of them. The Knights of the Veil already existed on accounts of their appearing in one of the battles listed in the Feranathi history. I'll have to work a little more on their structure, and on the culture as a whole.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Thinking Out Loud: Fadeless.

Originally posted here as part of the 15 Minute Ficlet, I wanna poke at this some more...


La'faen was the kind of girl who never really enjoyed social events; solstice parties on the village green seemed largey like a waste of time. Why would she need to dress up in her prettiest frock and shawl? So some young man could ask her if she would like to dance? Offer her flowers? Trinkets? Usually she ended up hovering at the edge of the green, staring longingly up at the Daesharr Temple, wondering if maybe Danayl would see fit to deliver her from this fate of boredom. Surely her parents wouldn't really object if she opted to conscript herself into the army or something? Swords were interesting, far more so than sewing. She had been up to Col'Lefyra once, with her father, to visit his dying mother. The capital city of Feranath had left her bubbling with words, trickling steadily out over her lips until her father had told her pointedly to be quieter in her excitement. She had tried. Ash and blood, she had tried so hard to hold her tongue.

Now, she glanced around, wondering where her walk away from the dancing on the green had taken her. She knew it was dangerous to wander away from the village into the woods on the Kinai, the darkest, longest night of the year, but at least here, in the darkness, away from all the fiddles and singing and twirly-whirly dancing, she could think. It was strange, here surrounded by nothing but winter-scorched and sap-bursted trees that she actually felt like she was living - enlivened by the solitude. It was like she was the only person alive out here, with all the other creatures of the forest asleep in hibernation or gone. There were no wolves in these parts, not for generations.

"Pretty night for a young woman to be out on her own," a voice said and La'faen nearly fell over as she spun around.

The speaker made no attempt to conceal herself. She was tall, taller than most women La'faen had seen; and she was beautiful - beautiful in a way that made La'faen's knees go weak with a desire she had never thought to feel for another of her own sex. The long black hair fell down around a strangely pale face, juxtaposed by the black lines that seemed to curl up to her cheek - tattoos?

"I - "

"Sorry, girl, didn't mean to scare you. I came here to get away from the hubbub at Felyriah," the woman said, leaning back against the frozen bark of an ancient oak. Felyriah? A shot of panic rushed through the young girl; Felyriah was the only place where...

"You're one of the Dar'nayl..." she breathed.

"Yes, I am," the strange woman said. It was only then that La'faen noticed the sharpeness of her teeth when her lips parted, the teeth made for killing, "don't worry. I'm not here to eat you, girl. I'm here because I can't stand parties, and I quite like frozen dead forests, somehow they make me feel like I'm bursting with life and energy. Which of course I am."

The Dark Lady...the Dark Prince's consort. Ash and blood. La'faen felt giddy with excitement, terror. The adrenalin bursting through her veins made her want to run and skip and dance. The Dark Lady seemed to study her for a moment, watching her with a lopsided smile.

"Can't stand parties either?"

"No, m'lady," La'faen squeaked, finally finding her voice.

"Kae. We're in the middle of the forest, girl, bothering with titles is stupid and taxing."

"Yes...er...Kae," La'faen said, feeling slightly bold for daring. Kae'ra Vexantris t'Ameandir tyr'Kainiri smiled at her, a brilliant toothy smile, and it was then that La'faen realised why she felt so alive: when you were staring death - or one who walked its edge - in the face, you had very little choice but to remember just how alive you were.


Thinking out loud.
Obviously this takes place after "Lady of the Glaive", the first part of The Fadeless. I'm thinking it's gotta be in the vicinity of Kainiri, given Kae's showing up there. I doubt she would run too far from Felyriah; she wouldn't stray to far from Teforne, especially during the second part. So...that gives me quaint lil village in the nearabouts of Kainiri, so it's probably on the coast?

I really wish I could draw Kae from this scene, it's after she's gone through the Awakening, obviously: the tattoos and the hair, which is black in this scene. So she's been through the Door...come out. I wonder if I can't doodle some and sketch some ideas for how it's KINDA meant to look, even if I can't draw it properly. Maybe there's someone out there who'll take pity on a drawingless writer, lolz.

Transitions

I suppose I should start our affair with honesty, and possibly a plagiarised phrase from Fight Club: You met me at a very strange time in my life.

Of course, I've no intention of blowing up buildings, or anything quite that spectacular - or destructive - but it does seem to suite my current circumstances: I'm in transition. I'm moving away from everything I know and diving headlong into what some people might call the deep end, and others might claim I should've been swimming in that pond years ago.

Nothing's simple, though.

For those of you who don't know me, then...

I'm V, I have been ever since I first hopped onto the Internet. It's a handle, nickname, petname, whatever name, that appears to have stuck. I could tell you how it came about, but it's got various versions, so let's just skip that part and assume I've had a rather long-winded love affair with the letter itself. Before I was V, I was Olwen - not mind you, that I've undergone some supernatural change that has given me a new identity or anything, I'm still Olwen to most people, and I have no illusions that it is and always will be my real name. I read somewhere once that your name is the first gift your parents give you; not so sure about that since they obviously give you life first up, but eh, who am I to criticise another's writings. But we were talking about me...

I've been writing since before I could write. Ask my dad, he'll tell you I used to scribble on little bits of paper when I was three, glue them together, and then read him a story. At the end of the story, when asked to reread it, a totally new story manifested itself. I'm ashamed to say I've lost that particular talent, nowadays the things I write tend to deliver only one set of words, but such is the loss of childhood.

I've lived in a lot of places around the world. I was born in the Netherlands, but I have no real patriotic tendencies towards the country of my birth and see it mostly as a place where we own a house and my family lives. To me, the Netherlands has always been a 'place to visit people', a 'vacation country', the 'country where things work, sometimes too well', and most recently, 'the place I doubt I could ever really settle'. I've lived in London - it's where I first learned English, which is now my prefered language - I've lived in Abidjan, Ivory Coast - although back then there was only the one president and all the Liberian refugees were on the west side of the river - and in Maputo, Mozambique - which in my opinion still was the Pearl of Africa. I've lived in Suva, Fiji - the British really should've built it on the other side of the island, but perhaps they felt homesick for the rain - and I've lived in Canberra, Australia - where I am now, still, for the next two weeks. 

I'm moving to Melbourne. 

That in itself might seem like a very boring thing, simple and straightforward. As a statement it certainly is, but for someone who's never really been on her own, this is a big thing. Moreover, I think this is me finally growing up. Not bad for someone who turned 25 last September right? 

Let's be fair though, it's doubtful that I will ever really grow up.


Now that we've got that mostly out of the way...

"You've got three blogs, what between Valerian Night, Riven Cascades, Shards of Silver, and not to mention the one you write with L! Why on earth do you want to start another one?"

Easy answer? I want somewhere were I can put up snippets, or thoughts, or bits of writing, anything and everything: photographs, bad sketches, doodles, half hashed out ideas, story charts, art for no other purpose than my own desire to see it online. I want space to be selfish. If I had any idea how to work wordpress I'd probably be able to squish it all together into one blog, but since I'm still struggling to get my head worked around certain elements, this will do for the time being. I'm comfortable with Blogger afterall. 

So what you need to know before you read on?

1. it's doubtful that this'll update with any regularity, you're more or less bound to my swings of creativity and/or interest.

2. be prepared for anything, good or bad, drivel or masterpiece.

That aside, glad to have you here. 


Clear Skies,
V