Did I say the hiatus was over?

Geez, I'm pretty bad at keeping up with this.
I always managed to post stuff, when I wasn't working, or when I didn't feel like such a waste.

Well, update for this was I quit the job to have more time for this... or so I told myself. Sometimes, I really do wonder if I shouldn't just try harder... for the first month I was practically racing through my novel like a mad man on a mission and I was doing just that. Then, I got sick, bronchitis, followed by a series of asthma attacks that really put me into a funk.

----------------------------------------------------------
So, yesterday I had a intense dream. About Doctor Who, normally, its a show I like but not something I find myself fantasizing about on a regular basis, I was a nondescript Doctor in the TARDIS and off on some adventure through an old hotel. Actually, this seems linked to a previously intense dream I had had about being the Doctor in a hotel... at the time, I believed telling a certain someone about it would make her in some silly way like me more. Only now realizing that I must have seemed quite mad, all things considered, hindsight and all that... Back to the dream, were trapped in a space hotel, at least thats how I know of it in the dream, a ship shaped like a brick and mortar hotel that one would see circa the first 2 decades of the 20th century. The Daleks had taken control and I'd been separated from my companions because as the invasion began the hotel went into lock down. If anyone is familiar with Evangelion, it was a similar sequence to NERV locking down during the UN invasion.

As myself and the one companion, who looked like she who I botched it with, we explored the hotel as it began to degrade. Things sort of took on a Shining quality as what we were attacked by specters and ghouls. With some Doctor thinking we escaped to find our selves in situations that became more dire. Eventually, we do find the control room as the Daleks have all but completely surrounded the two of us, though the companion sees our traveling band together and alive, having holed themselves up in the larder. I woke up just as the Daleks had battered in the door and shot female companion in the stomach, as she crumpled to the ground I woke up. Heart a pounding and my breath feeling all the heavier for it.

----------------------------------------------------------
Writing aside. I've begun to feel a little nervous about my future. I know I need to focus in on the book because it's so close to being done, then I'll send in the query letter and hopefully, an editor won't take to long to sign up to help me. I know I need to be more positive. But my track record shows that positivity is not my strongest feature.

Correlation Coefficient & I.

Have you noticed that when you stop to think something through you can get away from where you wanted to be, thought-wise?

Well, I had a proverbial Rip VanWinkle moment, well, that and the all benevolent force known as facebook informed me that I'm round the 800's in days since I last posted.

What is that thing they say about writing? ... ... ... That experience is the better part of wisdom? Well, it escapes me at the moment but I think you get my drift. So correlation, the last time I posted a blog up was around the same time I stopped posting on FB group. Not to hard to see that those events are linked very closely to one another.

Now, this blog feels like I should just do a little ranting to get the old fingers a work out. Even writing those lines above have started to put strain on my wrists. :(

Since February of 2013, let's see. In 3 months post date, I quit the job that gave me so little sleep. Much to the chagrin of my bosses, in fact, the day I put in my 2 weeks. The GM of said company followed me around the store making bargains with me as if that was the problem with that... over that summer I played A LOT, A... .... ... ... ... LOT! of a game called Mass Effect, all three one-after-the-other. Sometime in August or September, I was thoroughly pissed off at EA and depressed over the ending of said game and that the final option your are given all seemed to amount to absolutely nothing. That and someone said I have PTSD over the guilt I had from characters dying... that may be a little bit stretching but I was depressed over the entire ordeal.
But another separate piece may have been that I had also started falling for a girl, who, while meaning more to me then was reciprocated was very kind to me. Even when she took a bit of my heart with her.  Actually, I still remember the exact day she told me she was beginning a relationship with another guy. February 2nd of 2014. A little more then a year after this hiatus began. Heh?

In the interim of "Big Savings" I did a few temp jobs, some I liked, some, I did not. the "Print house" was valuable experience and I very much enjoyed the time I spent there, well, I take that back. At the end they rotated me around the shifts so much I felt sick and tired most of the final days there. Eventually, though I joined up with the "Fish-place" again. That for better or worse has been a choice I've accepted as my life for now.  In May of 2014, I started dating a girl named after a style of liquor. She... was never someone I imagined spending the rest of my life with, the girl who I let hurt me a few months prior was who I was still reeling over but that aside. I decided she was gone and I had to move on because she was never mine. Just a leaf that passed by my window.
"Liquor" was a tepid, facetious, vapid thing that made some half-assed assumption that I came from old money and could be her sugar daddy. *She was not even 5 months younger than myself.* This part of my life I'm going to skip because I let her abuse me and tear me down.
In fact, I let many people do that to me. It's what I think I deserve, nothing nice, never someone nice. I seem to fall for the ones that treat me like I'm dirt stuck to there boot. *Sigh*

When I had a hospital scare near the end of October of 2014, she wasn't by my side. In fact, she couldn't be bothered to even talk to me. I was after all, "Being a drama queen." So in November, I broke it off. I told her that this was her 'Get out of here ticket and that she better take it.' The rest of the year was filled with self-loathing and severe depression. Now clinically diagnosed! New people have entered and exited my life, but a few have stuck around and those people I thank. You're the reason I get out of bed, most days, I let the darkness in a little too often, but the ones that are there make it not so lonely.

Hmm, so writing and think & thinking and writing. There isn't a coefficient for getting the two to talk but maybe with some determination I'll be able to get a little focus, unblock my mind and get some book written. So for the time being blog-hiatus is over. :D

Exit realism. Bring the Miasma back to it's roots.

I know, this might come as a shock to some but I think what has been instigating my latest bout with writer's block...  

I've reached the conclusion, that I've been trying TOO hard with making Miasma Angels accessible to everyone and while I still strive for that, someday.  I want to write the story that I started 9 years ago.  Jennie, a girl born from a tree.  Tryst, a ghost investigator who wields nunchuks...  I'll admit some of my ideas were wrong but in those early days I seemed more driven, maybe, it's something else.  I'm kind of stress because of work and the constant lying too, all the workplace BS I shovel down my own throat because I honestly need the money.  I remember why I loved writing in the first place.  To escape from the boredom, the humdrum of life, because let's face facts.  I'm a boring person.  The only thing I seem to do right is be able to imagine things, also I have a mixture of perfectionistic tendencies which combat my borderline ADHD when it comes to completing my projects.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, so things that will be changing, the ending of the book with only be the end of the first part.  The book will be a 3-part set, playing on the whole beginning, middle and end.  Also, I'm squaring up some loose ends.  Anyone who has read it will know that a point of frustration, well, one of them is how Barbara Button is portrayed.  Much to my chagrin, she comes off as a bitch, to me there is no rhyme or reason for the obvious animosity but I hope to rectify it with this round of rewrites.  I'm giving probably the biggest character bit slip in the beginning of the newest version.

Next after the current ending, I'll be reworking some key character parts and with any luck making the book better.  Sadly, it's just been too long since anyone's read the book or asked me about it, of course, I bring it up which is probably pretty annoying, haha.  I have to, I have to remind myself that it exists, that I created it and that I am not a complete and utter flop.  Miasma Angels isn't by any stretch my first story that I've written, it's just the one I'm the most invested in, I love this story, the characters and the world.
It's by no means, a normal yarn, it's quirky strange and very obtuse.  It's as much a part of me and I am to breathing, dreaming and imagining.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things people should now about the new additions to the book.  Fights will be over the top, like a person being punched through a water fountain or pieces of body part being swallowed by budging pocket dimensions.  A man can carry a sword and be over one-hundred feet away and swing that same sword to shave another man's face that hundred feet away.  The divine and the material exist on a plain parallel, mirrors of one another.  And there IS a room that exists in my book where you can go anywhere... to anytime... even to exist as another person within your genetic line.  

So yeah, I think realism exited a while ago and it just took my brain this long for it to catch up.

what's wrong with writing a good fantasy?

Or really, what is wrong with a person who enjoys writing in that field.  The stipulations and prejudices around the word alone, fantasy, lends to a certain light being shone on you.

Miasma Angels in my own words is a Bildungsroman.  Because yes, it's a story about a girl from her birth to adulthood to wherever her life there after.  The problem first arrives when others find out she's of supernatural origin, at least that's how it seems to me.  I love the people who HAVE read Miasma Angels.  In return, I think all of them deserve respect and support for being the way they are.

Jennie is born.  She grows up and she looses things.  That in itself is the genre.  But it's too vague to still garner the fantasy-type.  Spoiler Alert!!  Jennie is an Angel.  Born of two humans bathed in mists that altered them to a quasi-angelic state.  Who was given a very unique chance to play a pivotal role in the changing of the nature of her world.  She is sot after for this unique disposition by a Cult from a world already dead and long forgotten by it's own people.  These people are actually the descendants of those from my last posting, yep, those from the Generation Ships.

I suppose it says something about me that I build a group who are so sad and backwards facing that they try to rewrite the past and the futures of every person that lives now by altering the events of said past and attempting to reconstructing time from times inception.  It also might say that I might have grabbed at too much when I went to this length to write the plot of my antagonists.  You know, to make ones enemy convincing you cannot make things black and white, well you can but that isn't the nature of men.  It's a hodgepodge of things, ideas and emotions.  Situations and consequences, the past and the ideals we strive for, to protect a future that might not even exist.

Alright, to get back to the original topic is to clarify some things, while I use the coming-of-age as a crutch to build Jennie's world.  I do fall back on normal fantasy conventions.  Yes, there are Elves (Alfar), who in my work are about twice the height of the average man, they don't involve themselves in human affairs and generally hate mankind and their numbers are dwindling down to nothingness.  Their are dwarves (Zwerg) who I only wrote 1 in the entire story.  They are even more secluded then any other race, living in the earth.  The other are classified under either the Fir Bholg or Fomorii.  Those could be a blog in and of itself. 

travel within a Generation ship

So I came to realize that when I began Miasma Angels it was a fairly naive tale to try and convince a girl to date me or at least consider it.  The beginning of the stories 9th year since I began it.  A few things have stayed the same, one is the idea of a ship that can take humanity to another world.  I back then believed I was breaking new ground, but like most ideas I was one of hundreds of thousands before me.  Sir Arthur C. Clarke coined the best version, I think.  Calling them Generation Ships.

This is all information a person might want to know eventually but in the grander scheme of my book this was a pivotal and saddening part of the back story, so information not even valid to the portions of where I have been writing about.

In an unmentioned year, Earth had become nothing more then a husk, a desert planet drained of all natural resources; man had taken too much, no renewal plans made a difference, they just continued to take and take and take.  The Peregrination series of ships were built taking between 50-75 years to build and prepare. These 7 space fairing behemoths had a daunting task before them to travel in seven different directions following the bread crumbs of the hope at finding the Goldie Locks worlds, a message from the stars told them to travel, or at least that's what they'd tell the children that only knew the space life.

The Peregrination IV, carried 7 generations of post-earthlings before it reached the world it would call home.  7 generations lived and died within the time it took to traverse from Terra-firma to the new world.

Fallcon, why did it change?

So last weekend, I have had such luck with this but I was able to go to Fallcon, my sister drove my car and he headed out early.  Starting at 5:30 am we got something to eat and left the house at 6 I gassed my car up and we ended up stopping in Long Prairie because someone forgot to use the toilet before we left... *eyes sister*.  Well, the majority of the drive was pretty uneventful, we talked about our works and what are plans our for our different stories.  She has a few that sound good to me (her blood witch one or the vampire soul-searching thing), but others didn't hit the mark (orge bros. detectives...) but she tells me I'm dragging my feet and should be focusing in on Karl and doing more Angry Spirit stories...

So around 8:30 am we hit the first detour heading into St. Paul well, this was a mislead and we ended up in Little Canada, turned around and by a Hamm's Brewery.  We found a Cub Foods and I bought a road map, who knew I'd need one... got directions because I'm a man, but I can admit when I need help.  We were off again and in less then 30 minutes made it to con.  We pull up and see no lines, no one outside... I notice the doors open and I have a small freak out.  My sister outdoes me and follows up also freaking out.  We park the car and hustle to the doors, why was it open?!  They opened it up because people complained it was too cold, we live in Minnesota people, know your home and dress appropriately, YES, I'm talking to you Ms. Donna Troy and plethora of Supergirl's maybe a miniskirt appears sexy, but you have to either own that choice or have the foresight to rethink your cosplay.  Anyways, we pay and are lead to an inspiration for a Saw film... a big open dungeon like area by the bathrooms...

Then Con opens and the horses were released.  People patiently are led to the con and everything sort of blurs, until I picked up a friends birthday present, a steampunk inspired Pokéball!  Met up with my friend that came and we perused the venders.  By the time I looked at my cell I see that it was 11:45 and everyone in the party was feeling pretty hungry so we headed to the traditional Arby's on Snelling where another member joined us and we had a D&D perfect party, 4 team-members.

We went back to con and with the other fellow book savvy friend talked about books, characters and how weird it is DC restarted their entire universe... But the interest didn't last and the friends noticed that there was a book swap and enormous garage sale.  My sister and I stayed a while longer but finally decided to leave, catching up with my friends and we proceeded to the last place on our trip... The Source, much to the chagrin of our fellow party members.  The source felt like it was much longer because at this point we'd been up about 12 hours... and I'm just realizing age comes with certain things... well, besides, Con had it's ups (laughing my ass off at some of the older books, one of which I bought Saga of the Super Sons) and downs (being lectured about pop culture by one of my icons.)

The Mage with the Rings

*spoiler alert*  If you want to watch Kamen Rider Wizard visit TV-N and contribute to their awesomeness and appreciate good fansubs.

So to have something to write about I started the latest in the Kamen Rider franchise, Kamen Rider Wizard (or if you're saying it in Japanese Uizarudo).  It opens with an explanation that magic is the precursor to science and many have forgotten magic but few still know of it and those are, yeah, wizards.  Which leads to us being introduced to Haruto as he looks out at the city atop a streetlamp and through a doughnut before taking a bite.  He is quickly interrupted by one of his familiars, a fire spirit, called Garuda. Who informs him of some Phantom activity, so he pauses his snacking to summon his motorcycle and ride off into the city.

Next, the scene changes to what appears to be a sting operation.  With two detectives being informed of the situation, the male a man named Amino asking, his partner a women named Daimon Rinko if she is comfortable with doing this operation to which she replies, "Protecting people is a cop's duty." which seems to annoy her partner.  Inside construction workers are being overwhelmed by the monsters of the series called Phantoms, these particular grunts are called Ghouls.  The police are quickly overwhelmed and Rinko comes face to face with a more powerful Phantom, Minotarous.  And like many Rider's before him, Wizard literally comes driving through the wall, tripping up some Ghouls as he doughnuts to a stop.  Spinning as he steps off his bike he materializes his weapon a gun that fires silver bullets, totally pulling a Wanted moment as the bullet passes right by Rinko striking Minotarous' and blowing one of his horns off.  Who comments that his opponent is a Wizard, as he attempts to blow-him-up with a spirit bomb-like fireball.  Much to everyones surprise Haruto is fine, his ring of fire, absorbs the blast in his transformed state.  {The thing I loved about this is that it goes right into a cold-opening of the theme song, Magical Showtime by Rider Chips} 

The next bit showcases the awesome stunt work of Mr. Seiji Takaiwa and the other actors in the Ghouls outfits.  The costume design reminds of a mix between Agito and Den-O with a shred of Ichigo mixed in there, the grunts look like Ultra from Ultraman Mebius with devil horns added to the heads.  The swordplay is VERY good and impressed me on the level that Shinkenger's Shinken Red opening fight, cold-opening did. {One thing that kind of annoys me about his weapon, not the fact that it changes from a sword to a gun, vice versa, it's that to do his finisher he's got to shake hands with his weapon...}  Title card pops up then the promotional stuff.

Haruto calls his hangout to inform one of his partners a girl named Koyomi, there is also a scene with an eclipse, Haruto watching people explode and demonic wings burst out of him.  Rinko appears and talks to Haruto who mentions some thing, like, the people being attacked are possibly Gates which means, a person with large magical potential.  The purpose of the Phantoms are to create despair and break that persons spirit releasing the magic stored inside them hence creating a new Phantom.  Her response is one that you'd expect, but she does him one up and handcuffs him.  Needless, to say, I was colored impressed by the latest installment and while it doesn't stray to far from the convention, I have hope for it.  It seems more exciting then the last season which I can't seem to get the enthusiasm to finish.

work time lag.

Seems like this is most of what I write about as of late...  I didn't think this place would be as much of a stress point as it is, allergies have gotten to me, of course, it might be an infection judging from the crap coming out of me.  Motivation is not my friend lately, I'm motivated at work, sure, but once I step through the door at home it all disappears.  This includes being apart of some weight loss group, it's true I probably don't need it but I'm still losing weight as is so having a group to converse with and with any luck my weight loss will slow down a bit but since I'm only loosing 2 1/2 pounds a week it's a normal amount to loose.

Why do I wait so long to start these things?  I have to get ready for work again.  I've tried to work on MA at work which doesn't usually pan out for me but here's to trying again.  This stalemate in the progress of the book is sad for me and MA needs to make progress if not by me then maybe I should let the book go, give  it to someone who can do it justice...  that's food for thought.

Things, they be happening.

So I'm blogging a little before work, if anyone else were up right now they might think I'm a little off, which wouldn't be too far off... I was just practically making myself cry thinking about this horrible game I tried when I was up north a few weeks ago.  The Bible Story and how you can make your character spin, for no good reason, other then to just do it.

On the sentai front there are new rumors about next season and I'm excited probably a little preemptively but ANOTHER dinosaur season, I could dig it.  This post will be short because I mostly just wanted to get the word out... that and finish getting ready.  I'll probably post again when I get home tonight... and I'll hopefully have more to talk about!

Miasma Failures

I had a thought that maybe that should be the name for any works existing within the Miasma Universe but not necessarily with Jennie and co.  Also, I've been playing with the idea of the Tri-trilogy, if many didn't know that was the original concept I played around with, but that is even older then MA, I was in 9th grade science class and had this crazy (very idiotic) idea to make a 9-part movie about... ... .... ... ...  Golf.  Each film would roughly be about a pair of old friends playing 18 holes and either remembering their hectic, action packed lives or Dude, where's my car?! type situation happen.  Either way, the idea never took EXCEPT the fact I wanted to do something of that magnitude.  Maybe Star Wars had something to do with it also?

But speaking of MA, so over the last few nights, I've had something of a reoccurring dream.  It's the book, of course, in a grand sort of way, being told to me as Stronger by Kelly Clarkson plays in the background.  But it gave me an insight to something I could definitely use.  I don't want to go to far into it for the simple reason that it could ruin a few things but along with the bit of foreshadowing, it showed many of the other characters as they evolve throughout the universe.  Some more than others.

5am again?

Yeah, that's what I'm saying as I stared at my alarm... who invented this time?!  Who thought being up now was a good idea.  Haha not I says this man, not I.  So because last weekend I was able to get time off I am on punishment duty from the head honcho himself... though I've noticed that even with punishment in effect I'm not being punished, yet.  Work is so slow that I doubt anyone COULD be punished.  So instead of my typical 50+ hours we might be beginning the era of 36-40 hours which doesn't sound too bad honestly... and if someone knew how to schedule people would only work 8 hour shifts for us full-timers and the part timers would work what they can because 80-90% of them are in school anyways.  I watch the clock as it unevently continues to flow forward.  Just imagine this, that without boredom of some kind, the invention of the word and measurement of how long something should take wouldn't exist!  A numerical equivalent of nothing to infinity was simply created out of one things boredom.  I find myself thinking a lot, which can and cannot be it's own vice and you marvel at what is "normal" and what is "odd".

They say, love is a trap door, that you really can't look for.

So, let's see.  I had a very trying day at work, even got lectured about being a leader for the part-timers. I had a semi-serious conversation with a girl whom I have some history with about about our interpersonal relationship.  Mostly I wanted to see if there was room for moving to another level, but yet again I was a bit like Icarus with wings of wax and such... The title comes from a song I've listened to these last couple weeks.  A beautiful song and it helps keep my uninterrupted selfish drive for overcoming my sad human interactions.

I often wonder what I'm doing, what I should be doing and where I want to go with my life.  I want to leave a mark, whether that's with people, a place or in some other form as long as I have something that shows I lived on this planet I think I'd feel an accomplishment has been reached.  I wondered, like so many times before about this universe, and a conversation I had with a friend and my father a few years ago.  It's normal, right?  To daydream about acts of heroism to be amidst some form of action but you never know what you'll do until it happens right?

Also, I finished watching my blu-ray copy of Rebuild of Evangelion 1:11, which reminds me how much I want to do with Miasma and I came to a small epiphany with how Jennie will be developed through out her tenure and in many ways it reminds me of how far the book as a whole has come along since I started it way back in 2004.  Seems a life ago now when I hashed out a hasty idea for a girl in a friends basement.  She's evolved like me into something more mature, even when I regressed her in age.  Jennie is and will always be me.  She shares many of my interests, imagination, skills, strengths,  insecurities, and other weaknesses.  But like Evangelion, Miasma Angels is going through a rebuild and I finally feel like I know where I want to go.  I'm excited to hear what people have liked about my book and interested to hear where they found weaknesses or areas that desperately need tightening up.  I thank all of them for being so kind in taking the time to read it, and help me with the gross mistakes.

Psychological warfare.

It's almost 4 am and I have to leave for work.  Yeah, that's right.  So I can work at 5, WTH is with this place it's so dumb.  But what can you do.  I don't think Dustin will be there as long as I will be that's a give in.  But what can I do.  Someone suggested that this might be some kind of test to see if I'm promotable.  Good gawd I hope not.  This place sucks enough as is, and I don't think being IN the system, I can do a damn thing.

But I really want to work on May's thing when I get home, maybe I'll steal some scrap paper and doodle something out in the bays tomorrow.

job daze.

I'm calling bullshit on this next day... 5am is no time to be awake let alone setting foot near my place of work.  I still want to know who decided to change my time from 6:30am to 5:00am... Me thinks it's an HR rep. who decided after this past week to not like me anymore... *middle-finger in his general direction.*

Aside from work, life, seems to be going well, but considering all I have is work, I hope it doesn't get any worse...  But since I JUST said it, it probably will. *shrug*  For the upteenth time I was asked why I'm not married, I reply with the usual, because.  Life with me is harder then you'd imagine.  I'm kind of a downer, but seeing an excerpt from one of my notebooks from 3rd grade I've always been a little negative, especially, when it is in the present tense and about myself.  I need to work on being nicer to me.

And with my F-ed up day tomorrow I have a day off Thursday, let's hope, with any luck and some form of overwhelming will power I can start and finish a good portion of May's illustration.  A matter of fact, I need to email my cousin soon and see how the art he promised is coming...  that and maybe get some more editing done for MA but we might be overreaching a bit, lol.  I hope tomorrow is fast because it's gonna be some sort of miracle if I make it through tomorrow without bitching someone out for my shitty shift.

Working on... Life.

Getting back into writing is beginning to be much more of a task then I originally thought.

Work is horrible.  Not the actual job part of work.  People.  Are the worst part of the job.

Last week, the meeting up I got to have with Carissa and her husband, Collin.  Kind of weird that we couldn't get the whole group together but managing to get even the two of them there was a miracle in and of itself.

Back to writing though, I told myself I would try to get something down before I went to work, and I put it off until now... which is now 15 minutes to noon.   I hope I can manage to get the few days off for Matilda's birthday-thing.  I miss seeing her and everyone from the Range, though being up there is taxing.  Me missing them out weighs the trouble I'll put myself in later.  But this is good enough for now, when I get home I'll try and add another post, if I remember, hehe.

Letting go...

Today, yes, today is the day I begin letting go.  This is as terrifying and stressful an idea to me as jumping off a cliff or going into a cage with a wild animal covered in dripping meat might be to others.  I was reading my friends blog, after I had an internet yelling at from a "friend" from high-school.  No name calling but I'll give you a picture of the man, he asks for things, made under the guise of suggestions then get's mad when people aren't doing things for him.  Make sense to you?

Well, I've put up with it for too long.  It's dumb and now I'm just, letting it go, moving on and finding new (less negative) people to associate with.  I know, it's almost unforgivable to think I've put up with it...  I'm afraid of changing and I've seen that change is what I need now.

That means letting all those people fall to the wayside.  They can keep their bitterness and negativity.  So I'm starting my sophomore life without all those people holding me back anymore.  I'm better then they let me believe I am and I don't have to be in the corner anymore!

Chapter 01: The Button's

Souen for as long as anyone in the city would care to remember has seen a virtually unending rain.   With all the dark clouds taking residency over the town and it does not seem to be getting any better.   What was once the brightest beacon around, the Tree of Ahwen, but it too has fallen ill in these sickly times.  Recently its body has shown signs of swelling, a rot that has never occurred before this last year.  A deathly musk perfumes the air, many have grown accustomed to it, but more still find it appalling.  They considering leaving but find it hard to live anywhere else.  So the townspeople live with it.  Send prayers daily to the Saint Sophia, other going beyond that calling on the Gods and Goddesses to do something.

A common phrase here is, 'Even when things look their worst you will always have the Ahwen.' many hold that motto close to themselves remembering that not too long ago it was better, that this is a sign of a change.  A new age being ushered in with the celestial goodbye of Ahwen and the gloomy birth of some time yet to be named.  What was once the staple to any travel many now coming to see with morbidity how much worse it will get?  Souen is downright gloomy.  Even the oldest of citizens speak in past tense as they refer to the town; this point furthers to depress the situation.  When neighboring cities such as Furderalon, Fir Bousight, and Pageturner’s refuse to help.  Indeed a new age of selfishness seems to have been born and maybe this was better that their symbol of peace fades then live in a world that has become a powder keg of tension.  One many saying, ‘Where we go all these things that pass will be the shining markers leading us to the wonders of the beyond.’  The continent of Murias, one of the four holy sites may just well have fallen onto hard times, that this hiccup is nothing but that.  So many people call on the worst of their imaginations when something doesn't go their way.  Life comes into being and as things go that things must eventually retire and go back whence it came.  A tree is a tree no?  Though this is merely a glimpse at the wonderful world of Alba as it moves forward as we all must when time become hard.

Barbara Button is that kind of person.  She awakens to the crack of thunder.  She very well might have slept through the flash but when the thunder hit it shook the entire house and if you have ever heard, no felt that particular soul shaken moment, you simple cannot return to sleep.  The fingers of the Gods brush the silent world of night.  She has not been sleeping very well, indeed the thunder could be to blame but not when for the last few months she barely manages a few hours of rest and honestly it is straining on her last sane nerve.  She climbs out of bed but turns back and looks down at her husband.  Sound asleep Peter Button really is quite vulnerable looking.  He is such a sound sleeper she thought.  She leaves the room.  The house is dark, so much darker then the night when they had first moved in.  Lightning flashes illuminating the hallways for a split second like the flash from a camera.  In her head she counted as she approaches the stairs.  It might have been some underlying OCD but she only remembered because she'd prefer to not fall down the steps.

"Five, six, seven..." says Barbara just as the thunder roars again.  The house trembling as the hairs on her arms becomes prickly.  At times like this she misses her brother.  When he was younger Otto was always afraid of storms, especially the lightning.  Seemed so silly now but she remembered him coming into her room in the middle of a storm to slip into her bed.  The stairs lightly creak under her foot but in the silence that followed it sounded like the moans of a lonesome spirit.

Lingering for a moment in the entryway as the lightning lights up the house again.  In the moment that follows she blindly moves through the house with ease.  Swiftly through the dining room and into the couples kitchen before her sight comes back in full.  She stops and wonders if she should make something to eat.  She looks across the room and glances at the clock.  She sighs and leans over and opens the porcelain container grabbing a handful of cookies.

Glancing out of the window she doesn't see any droplets of water on the windowpane.  "What kind of storm doesn't bring rain?" as the lightning flashes.  She let's out a sigh as she makes her way over to the patio doors on the other side of the kitchen.  Stepping down she slips on a pair of her gardening shoes and slides the door open.  As she steps outside she feels a warm gust of winds a rare occasion even in the middle of summer.  Another flash of lightning lights up the sky as Barbara sees lightning dance across the clouds.  She nibbles on the baked treat as her eyes turn to the hallmark of town.

"Ahwen, so big and bright, watch over us with the grace of the Saint." mutters Barbara to herself as part of the old nursery rhyme.

"Barbara, what are you doing out here?" says Peter Button as he walks out onto the Button’s back porch.  His wife stiffens up and turns her head sharply towards him, but after realizing it's him groggily turns her head back to looking over the dying tree. 

"Oh?  It's only you," says Barbara in a playful way.  "I was just catching some fresh air."

"Ah!" says Peter as he embraces her from behind.  "Hey, can we talk about the obstetrician visit?"  Suddenly Barbara was fully awake and her stomach began to twist.

"I would really prefer not to...  She was painfully clear about our situation."  She pulled apart Peter's arms and turned to face him.  "We just aren't going to be able to have one."

"That doesn't mean it's not in the cards?  We can't just give up."
"Peter maybe that is what we have to do." says Barbara.

"I don't believe you mean that," says Peter as Barbara turns away from him.  "This has been what we've wanted since we got married.  Don't give me that excuse that your too old now, you're 34.  Sure you parents were young when they had you but that doesn't mean you have to live your life the same!"

"Go to bed Peter.  I told you that I didn't want to talk about it, obviously that means you have to keep mentioning it and talk to your hearts content about it." She turns and goes back into the house.  "In fact, maybe I should go to bed and let you have the fresh air because we heard two separate things from my doctor!" the thunder cracked as the cloud light up sporadically.

Peter watches her leave.  He doesn't move to stop her or raise his voice.  He let's out a light sigh, his brow furrowing and he balls up his fists.  He heads into the house and walks right on through, only stopping a moment to pick up a sweatshirt, his keys and his work shoes.  He leaves the house quietly.  Walking through town during the latest scourge of rain has a sort of sobering effect.  It really helps clear his head.  He knew she was bottling her feelings about the doctor's visit.  But nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Did it make what happened right?  Well, that's a matter of opinion.  He continues to walk through town passing the pavilion, town hall, and cutting through Souen Park where the foliage looks far too wet.  He ventured past the cemetery and like when he was younger he held his breathe until he was well past it.  

Then the library comes into view.  He knew it wouldn't be open.  Not this early in the morning but where else was he to go?  Home, no he wasn't in the mood to sleep he never slept very long and never very deeply.  He walks down an alleyway hidden by the library and the post office’s proximity to one another.  Making his way to the side door he took out his keys and goes inside.  First he removes his damp sweatshirt, next he removes his glasses and wipes the excess water off on his shirt.  He picks up an electric torch and snaps the switch.  The small fluorescent coil flickers to light.  He moves through into the main library.  Barbara could wonder where he went, she was too upset to really be thinking straight and being all flustered never helped anyone.

The Button's a young couple that had planned to fill their modest home with at the very least twelve babies!  They bought the third largest home in all of Souen just for the sake of having the room for a large family.   Their house has eight bedrooms, three on the first floor and five on the second.  As you enter the Button's house you'd come into a hallway and to you're right a living room with a wrap around couch with a fire place on the far right wall.  In the room to the left, back in the hall was Peter's office with the staircase to the right.  Straight ahead is the entry closet.  The Button's room was first on the right when you walked up the stairs to the second floor.    

Barbara was not one of those naysayer's, so she prayed and prayed to anyone or any thing that would lend an ear or an open mind.   She was the kind of person that do not care how or why something favorable happened and the most important of wishes asked, catch very special ears, sometimes good, but then again this is sometimes bad.    This was not one of those times, a special ear to hear those very special wishes and maybe just maybe a certain Goliath-sized tree might have heard the woman's plea.   As the twin moons Parade and Iknunai were in a peculiar formation on that night.  "Please, O mighty tree. Please give us the chance to have a baby; we, I do not care what it looks like or even if it is a seed from your own branches.   I just ask you to please, please give us a baby to call our own." Barbara spoke from her heart and something strange was on the air.

Barbara awoke laid facing towards the couple’s walk-in closet.  The sliding doors are mirrored reflecting the dreary climate outside.  She turns over to see the place in the bed.  Peter is still gone, serves him right for bring it up and this time she won't fall for his sweet act.  She knows he was only concerned but really she didn't want to delve into it again.  Her mind is all a fluster; she racks her brain with all the what-ifs.  She is well on her way to desperation.  She climbs out of bed.  Now, when a people become this desperate, some, not all will turn to a higher authority.  She walks up to the window and sees the hallmark tree.  Though many have given up the notion that there is a being of any sort of divinity watching over Alba.  She crawled out of bed, shutting off her alarm.  She was an hour early but the clock wouldn't care.  She walks over the mirror, resting her forehead on the glass she looks deeply into her eyes her image askew blurred by how close she is to her own image.

Something came over her as if touched by a muse.  She rushed to leave the room but halted as she spun around and wiped the smudge her face had left on the glass.  Satisfied that it was mostly gone she bolted out of the room.  Hustling down the stairs and into the kitchen.  She found the phonebook and went to the phone.  The receiver rang a generic telephone noise as she anticipated who would pick up then the phone clicked and there was silence.  A few moments passed, as she heard nothing, not even the breath of the other on the line.  Then in a muzzy tone the other person speaks.

"Hello..." says the man.

"Otto?  By the Gods!  It's quarter to nine.  Where you honestly still sleeping?"

"Barbara?  Well, yeah, I went to bed about an hour ago so naturally I'd be sleeping?" as he lets out a loud yawn.  "What's going on?"

"Will you come out to our place?  I need your help with something."

"All right.  Do you want me to leave this second?" then Barbara could hear another voice on the other side.  A feminine voice?

"Otto?  Otto!"

"What?" he pulls away from the phone for a moment and continues another conversation with whoever it is with him.
"I'm sorry about that."

"Is there a women at your place?"

"Um that's a little personal isn't it?"

"No, I am your sister and if you're dating then this is something to celebrate!"  She hears a commotion, which sounds like a struggle then a woman comes on the phone.

"Hello?" says the women

"Hello..." says Barbara

  "Since your brother is too nervous to spill the beans, I, Am his girlfriend and we've been together..." she pauses for a moment and Barbara could hear her counting to herself.  "About 3 years now."

"Do you have a name Ms. Three-years?" asks Barbara.

"Oh," as she suddenly bursts out laughing.  "I suppose I've forgotten to introduce myself."  Barbara begins to her Otto complaining, the women shush her brother, she could hear the tension in his rebuttal but the woman must have covered the phone with her hand.  Much of this she was guessing at because the sound was severely muted.  "I am Rio Alouette De Ciel.  We're coworkers, well not anymore they fired me because they couldn't bear to lose a genius like your brother..." the phone is wrenched away as she can hear footsteps and doors being slammed.

"I'm sorry about Rio...she can be difficult."

"She sounds perky... I didn't think you were into perky women?" says Barbara as she hears her brother let out a hard sigh.

"It's hard to explain...but you weren't calling to check up on me you needed help with something?"

"Oh, right, I was thinking of putting in a garden.  I need something to take my mind off of things here and I was wondering if you could bring one of those military macchina here to help me dig and till and maybe plant?"

"Barbara we're talking about military class machinery.  Why would I ever want to show off?" says Otto in a harsh tone.  "All right I'm kidding.  I cannot leave until tomorrow."

"Ooh, you and Rio are doing adult things hmm?"

"What?  Oh, grow up you.  No, I have to locate my truck.  Power up a fuel cell, locate some items for tilling?  I have to prepare this stuff geez."

"Oh calm down you.  You are still just as unhumorous as ever."

"Unhumorous isn't a word Barbara." says Otto sounding so much like their mother at that moment that Barbara couldn't help but smile.

"Fine.  Inhumorous whatever.  Phone me before you leave so I can know when to expect you." Barbara hears her door open.  "All right, see you tomorrow."

"All right sounds good.  Bye." says Otto.  As Barbara hangs the phone up and walks out of the kitchen to catch a glimpse of Peter as he walks up the stairs in a zombie-like state.  She wanted to tell him that Otto was coming but she also felt like she didn't want to talk to him still at the moment.

Some friend?

I don't remember why it is I feel like I owe him...  not when he reminds me of my shortcomings and how if I were more like him it'd all be better.  For who, exactly.  Not I, says me.  No, I give him the finger and in kind ask him to mind his own business.  I've never commented on his shortcomings and his lecherous personality, but maybe I ought to?  How can someone go through life using people like he does and not feel anything!  I could never do that, no, leave me my hermithood, because if the choices are that world or my own.  I'd rather be ignorant then be ANYTHING like him.  Just so everyone knows, I'm considered a horrible person to boot.  Lovely world isn't it, but I'm not allowing this, all this negativity to clog me up anymore.  No, I am stronger then anyone believes of me and I have a clear set of morals.  I don't care what they think of me or how they mock and throw hurtful things in my face.  I am better then they are.  Even if I'm the only one that will ever know...

updates....

It's been a while since I added any of my thoughts in a while, what to say, it seems like everyone is or has written a book.

Is my book such a generic idea that it doesn't sell?  Maybe?  Or like Icarus, I have a great idea that I can't really execute.  Maybe Miasma Angels is too big for me to handle.  I have tried so hard to stay positive and I will for the most part be positive but I just don't know anymore.

Excerpt of Tryst Belchior

      "Alone... Alone was how I always remembered my childhood, it was painstakingly true when time came to celebrate another birthday." 

      In the manor of the Belchior estate, the main dining hall is flooded with light.  On this end of the house Master Ezekiel had made sure that the great hall was crafted from the finest glass smiths and metal workers.  Leafs of gold were etched into the iron framing.  The glass crafted in such a way as to give the room a feeling of being submersed in water.  A boy with hair that shimmered like the finest silks and with a color as rich as golden wheat.  Is very alone on the far end of the room, sitting at the head of the table.  He is playing with his breakfast of fuba cake and misto quente.  He unenthusiastically stirs his coffee.  For today is April 11th, the young man's birthday.  He was upset because yet again his family made no effort to celebrate his day.  There would be no cake, no guests. 

     Though unlike previous birthdays there had come a single present, sitting in the center of the long table, wrapped in simple brown paper tied together in twine.  It has been in the house since the morning before.  But the boy doesn't seem too eager to open it.  But it sits there.  As if it were watching him.  He has not had the typical family setting like other children.  He knew this to the deepest depths of his bones.  Even at his young age he held much resentment towards his family.  His vision is suddenly drawn over towards the old grandfather clock as it sounds, signifying half past the seventh hour. 

     "I wonder if father's coming home so I can open it in front of him." thought the boy to himself.  He looks down towards the carpet as his grip around his spoon tightens.  Outside the room two of housemaids watch the young master through the keyhole.

     "Do you ever wonder why he always waits like that?" said the first maid.

     "No, not really.  The young master has always been that way.  Such a quiet soul, he knows Master Belchior will not be returning until the matter of the current dig has been resolved."

     "Why can't at the least his mother be here for him?"

     "You know that she's spending the holiday with Mistress Adriana, whom you know will be married soon enough."

     "Really though.  The Master should take sabbatical more then he does.  You would think they do not even care about the young master."

      "I am sure they do Claudia.  But the Master's been working very hard and the young master is that age where he can begin taking care of himself!"

     "Oh?  You think so ladies." said another as the two maids spooked, turn about face to see the judging eyes of the manors prodigal son.  He leans forward and wraps his arms around the two maids shoulders.  "You two should be ashamed of yourselves.  What the boy really needs is a sabbatical from this family." as he brushes the younger maids cheek.  He nibbles on her neck as shudders run down her spine.

      "Master Pierce!" begins the other maid as he begins to fondle her posterior with his free hand.

       "Oh shush.  You know you enjoy our little rendezvous,” the tall dark blonde man says, he slides by the maids and throws the doors open.  "Do come round my bedroom after noon and we'll think of a way to celebrate my return to the house." and just as swiftly as he arrived he closes the doors.  Tryst is startled with this gesture and looks horror struck. 

      "Oh baby brother...  Where is father?" said Pierce Belchior.

      "You know damn right where he is!" said Tryst.           

      "Ah, that's right in the dirt somewhere.  I couldn't forget even if I wanted." Pierce laughs at his own joke.  "But in all seriousness Tryst hasn't he come home?"  He briskly walks down to the far end of the room where Tryst sits, and sits himself right next to him on the table.

      "No, but I'm sure he wanted to be here." said Tryst

      "Oh, we both know that's a lie little brother." said Pierce.  This causes his brother to begin to grimace.  "Alright, sorry Tryst, Dad's not coming home.  By the goddess, you've really grown since I saw you last.  What are you eight this year?"  Tryst nods his head.  Then adjust his large glasses.

     "Oh, are you going to eat that?" said Pierce pointing at the fuba.  Tryst shakes his head as Pierce leans over him and takes his coffee cup and slice of cake.  He sips the coffee and makes a disgusted face.  "Yuck, to much sugar.  What is wrong with you!" said Pierce as he swallows the remainder of the cup of coffee before pouring himself a second one.  Only this time adding just an equal mixture of boiled milk to the coffee.  He tests the second cup and lets out a sigh of relief.

     "Ah, nothing is like Cookie's fuba!  Or this coffee, oh, this is so delicious!"