The prodigal returns

So.. it turns out reading through your teenage blog after literal years of neglect is.. interesting, to say the least. It's really funny, because I recognize my 'voice' in my writings, and I can sort of remember experiencing these things I've written about, but at the same time it's like looking at a completely different life. I've changed and matured, be it gradually, and looking back on this makes me realize just how much.

I can't really say why I stopped updating my blog. I guess it's just like so many things, where no matter how much I like them, at some point it's gonna be too much effort to keep up (I'm generally at least half a season behind on my favourite tv shows - I just can't find the will to keep up with them). And anyway, I never proper got into the groove of regular blogging.

I mostly just switched to my tumblr, which is not a proper blog and I don't really use to post original content. The thing about tumblr is that it is a good platform for me to keep updated on what's going on in my fandoms - although the precise fandoms I look at have changed over time, as well. I'm in a position where if you would've told me even just a year ago where I am now in terms of fandom, I probably would have laughed in your face. It's hilarious.

I am on the verge of completing my bachelor's degree in Molecular Life Sciences, and that feels quite monumental. Especially since I've built up quite a bit of a delay over the years (mostly due to inconveniently timed illness and not-so-smart choices), but we're getting there. We're literally almost there.

I'm gonna stop here for now, I think. Obviously over three years there are a lot of things I could tell you, but I don't fancy spitting it all up at once, I don't think.

Who knows, maybe I'll get back into things for a bit, and you'll see more of my ramblings in the future.

~Bien

Ashes, Chapter 3

I finished chapter 3, but it's shorter than the first two. I guess the same thing holds up: if you're reading, it would really help if you could take the time to at least tell me what you thought, even if you don't analyze the crap out of it. ;).

Here goes.

SHARD #3

12/18/2013

All through the day, Casper had trouble focusing on his lessons. His thoughts kept wandering; to the jogging man he saw that morning, to the atmosphere of the city from his dreams. It was as though the full night of standard dreaming had messed with his head in some way. Even when he managed to pay attention for a short stretch of time, there was a churning in his gut that spoke of anxiety or nerves. It was annoying and frankly uncalled for, considering he was not actually worrying about anything. It wasn’t as if he was concerned about the fact that his friend had apparently not fallen asleep until very late at night, if at all. And she hadn’t even told him about anything that might’ve been happening that would entail her staying up late with friends or something.

Okay so maybe I’m a little uneasy. He grimaced, wishing the day would just hurry and pass already so he could talk to Callie and stop worrying. Trying to avert his mind from the topic, he remembered the first time she’d told him her actual name. She hadn’t wanted to, but his pestering had finally worn her resolve. It was her own fault really, for being so obviously secretive about it. Nothing like steadfast avoidance to pique curiosity. Thinking of the moment, he remembered the way her face had burned hot with embarrassment. He’d thought it was so strange a thing to be worried about, and told her as much. She’d looked torn between annoyance and gratefulness. Later he’d understood, imagining what it would be like to have a name people would tease you about, even though he’d never thought ‘California’ was all that bad a name. A little unusual, sure. Either way, Callie would never let him refer to her by her full name.

The momentary distraction sadly did nothing to actually alleviate the worry creeping in his stomach. Casper spent the rest of the day trying in vain to quell the uneasy feeling, barely noticing when his last class was over and it was time to go home.

***

When it was finally late enough for Cass to head to bed, he did so with relief. He’d been jittery during dinner, gaining him weird looks from his parents. Thankfully they were the type of people who’d rather wait for him to come forward with any problems on his own, only interfering when they judged it’d been going on long enough to start worrying. Even with his nerves fluttering, he was drowsy enough that he fell asleep almost immediately. He had the dim thought that he’d forgotten to set his alarm clock, before he closed his eyes…

And opened them in a now recognizable environment. It was remarkable how quickly one could get used to unusual circumstances. It’s probably because it’s a dream. I don’t know that blue grass and trees with purple leaves would be quite as easy to accept while awake. Either way, it was of little import.

Looking around, he determined that while it was probably the same place, what with the discoloration of everything, it wasn’t any of the areas he’d passed through while exploring the night before. He appeared to be in a kind of forest. A short way ahead, Casper could see a glade of some sort, where a small brook could be heard, gurgling. Coming closer, it became clear that the water was a soft, rosy pink. He was not surprised. So far, most of the colors he’d encountered in this strange world were soft, muted; calming shades of color. He doubted there was any purpose to it, but it was pretty nice all the same. It was while he was trying to gauge the distance to the glade that Cass noticed with a start exactly where his eyes seemed to be in relation to the ground. It was remarkably unusual for him to have actual dreams in which he was himself.  In actual fact, it probably hadn’t happened more than twice in the last ten years. Not that he was keeping count.

Setting off towards the break in the trees, Casper decided he would try and figure out if there were any landmarks in immediate reach that would tell of his whereabouts in a bit more detail. What he found was better than he could’ve hoped. Off in the distance, he could clearly make out the spires and rooftops of the city he’d found the other night. He was debating whether to bother heading out in that direction when he was overwhelmed by a furious itch that spread along his limbs. He collapsed, completely disoriented all of a sudden. When he regained his senses, he was a quite a bit shorter and a good deal furrier. It appeared he was going to be feline anyway, then.

Well, no use hissing about it, he thought with surprisingly good humor, and started moving forward. Heading towards the city seemed as good a plan as any, he reckoned.

***

A couple of miles and what would probably amount to several hours into his journey – but really, there was no use trying to gauge the time passed in a place with such an atmosphere – Cass appeared to have arrived at the edge of the forest, although the plains ahead of him were still covered with a smattering of trees. It struck him that he had yet to discover any source for the light which hung over the place, like a soft blanket, covering the world with its glow.  There was no sun to speak of, and no artificial light – there couldn’t be, the sky was as vast and fathomless as the atmosphere of the Earth – yet the trees around him bore shadows. Although the light didn’t appear to vary in intensity, the direction and length of the shadows seemed to indicate it originated from a place right above the city that rose up in the middle of the plains.

Looking off in the distance, Casper realized with a jolt there were figures moving on the plains, not far from where he was standing under the shelter of one of the trees. They looked human, one male, one female. In their own way, they were just as strangely colored as the scenery; the man had a shock of blue hair, slightly curly, which offset his tanned skin. The girl was all hues of gray, ashen in a way that looked unnatural but not, from this distance, unattractive. They did not notice the cat perched between the trees, making their way quickly to the edge of the forest, never coming close enough for Cass to make out any details. It wasn’t until they’d disappeared behind the tree line that he realized there had been something off about their shadows. Instead of being somewhat even in darkness, the way shadows are, the darkness cast by the two figures had had a penumbral quality, being light and slightly pellucid, and danced like light cast through water. 

I wrote some more (Ashes, chapter 2)

Hi there.

This won't happen again, but as of ten seconds ago, basically, I've finished chapter 2 of Ashes. I figured I might as well post it now.

Same thing as last time, if anything strikes you, don't hesitate to let me know. Feedback is always welcome. :D. (Also I haven't really read it over in its entirety so there might be mistakes and typos and such).

SHARD #2

12/18/2013

Bleary eyes opened to the grating sound of an alarm going off. Casper groaned, wiping sleep from his eyes. If he hurried, he'd have just enough time for a too-quick shower and a shoveled breakfast before having to be on his way to class. For just a second, he paused at the edge of his bed. While not incredibly unusual, the dream had gone on longer than Casper had expected it to. It would seem Callie had pulled an all-nighter. This didn't happen often, as she was generally the type to hit the hay at a very reasonable time, believing that a person couldn't function correctly without at least 8 hours of sleep every night. The fact that she would be missing at least half a night's sleep was odd, but Cass put it out of his head. Really, it wasn't as if there was no conceivable reason for a teenage girl to stay up late every once in a while. Maybe one of her friends had thrown a party and she'd decided to attend. Either way, it was none of his business.

When he walked out the door, he was unsurprised to see Jack already waiting for him in front of his house. He looked supremely bored and frankly rather annoyed at being kept waiting, but that was just something Jack did. Looking closer, it was obvious from his flushed face and slight panting breath that he'd only stopped running maybe a minute ago.

Cass raised his eyebrow at his friend. "You do realize I'm aware you would have been later than I am had you not sprinted your way here?" he grinned, while Jack had the gall to look even more superior.

"That, my friend, is exactly what I wanted you to think. Allow me to describe to you the precise art of deceiving people with details."

"Yeah, no thanks. Come on, moron, we're gonna be late."

The two of them had a sort of tradition of walking together whenever they had morning classes in common. This happened every Wednesday, as well as on Fridays. It wasn't a particularly long or exciting walk, and they mostly filled it with idle chatter. It also served as an excellent opportunity to tell Jack anything interesting that came up in the dreams without fear of anyone overhearing more than half a sentence.

"So let me get this straight. You were a cat, again? Dude. Can't you dream yourself as something more awesome? What's wrong with dragons?"

"Well yeah. I happen to like cats, sue me. But as I was saying... I ended up in some kind of weird city. It was like nothing I've ever seen." From the corner of his eye, Casper saw a middle-aged man jogging along the sidewalk across the road, heading towards an intersection. Turning back to his friend, he continued, "I can't really say what was so strange about it though. I mean, the colors were still abnormal, but it was more than that. It was in the atmosphere of the place. Kind of like... it felt as if the buildings were all at an angle, even though they appeared straight. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that there was nobody around, I don't know..." He trailed off. He'd been looking to his right again, and he could have sworn he saw the same man as before, jogging along... from the same place he'd started. It was as if he'd gone about ten meters back while Cass' head was turned, only to walk the same path again. Casper reached to stop his friend in his tracks.

"Jack, um... Did you just see that?"

Jack frowned in reply. "See what? Dude, you okay? Look like you saw a ghost or something."

"I... yeah, no, I'm fine. Must have been seeing things."

"Right... Thinking about precious Callie again, huh? Focus, lover boy, we've got a long day ahead of us."

Casper took the dig in stride and simply resumed walking, too intent on telling his story to give a rise to the comment he knew was meant in jest. Jack was content to let him talk, and it was in this way that they continued the rest of the walk.

***

As confused as she’d been when she first became conscious of her surroundings, they got boring awfully fast. There was only so much dimly-colored scenery a recently dead girl could take, she supposed. If that was even what had happened. All she could really be sure about was that she’d been hit by a car, and hit hard, and the next thing she knew she was lying in a field of black-and-white flowers, next to a lake that looked a little more pink than it had any right to. Seriously. The only places I’ve ever seen a pink lake are idyllic paintings of sunsets and the like. Or perhaps in a little girl’s dreamland, where everything is pastel-perfect. But it wouldn’t do to dwell on a lake that realistically had no business being the color it was. There were more important issues to solve, starting with where she was, and how the hell she’d ended up there in the first place.

She was shocked out of her reverie by a noise that appeared to come from behind her. She turned around, the air seeming to shimmer in front of her. Dizzy, she closed her eyes for a second. Instead of the empty landscape she had expected, Callie was faced with a man that most certainly had not been there before. It was indicative of her befuddlement that the sudden appearance of a stranger incited not questions but stunned silence. It might also have had something to do with the fact that the man fixed her with a look of something resembling satisfaction and recognition, as if she was the very person he'd been looking to find. He seemed to be a man who took care of his appearance, dressed sharply, with neatly combed hair. He looked very put-together but there was absolutely nothing striking about him, nothing to catch the eye. His visage was strangely unassuming, neither handsome nor ugly. Perhaps, had the stranger not started speaking, Callie would have become rather alarmed at the quiet purpose in his gaze. As it was, however, this strangely out-of-place person had a rather calming voice.

"Hello there,” he said, “I'm Finch Starling. What can I call you?"

For all she tried, Callie couldn't seem to find her voice. As the silence stretched on, Finch seemed to realize the answer he was waiting for would probably not be forthcoming.

"Perhaps you don't remember? It's nothing to be ashamed of, that happens all the time. Really it's no surprise, considering..." He trailed off, maybe because Callie's blank face made him realize she was waiting for some sort of explanation. He seemed to catch himself, taking a beat of silence before he continued.

"I’m sorry, it’s been a while since anyone promising has entered the stage. I suppose you might say I’ve been getting a little rusty. Either way, I should probably explain some of the basics to you.”

                “You could start with where the hell we are right now?”

                The stranger looked decidedly pleased. “Oh excellent, you can talk. Yes, I do believe that might be prudent. To be honest, not a lot is known about this place, as it is only accessible to those of us who end up here like you have. It appears to be a dimension in between – a gray area, if you will. Where exactly it exists in regular space-time is unknown, although there are certain places where passing over into Life appears to be easier than usual. Whatever its official name is – if it even has one – the inhabitants have come to know this place as Nier. As for why the scenery looks off, well, my best guess has always been that the Aurea prefer it; though the reasons for that are unknown to me." At this, Finch's eyes gained an excited gleam. Somehow I don't get the feeling this guy gets to talk about this stuff half as often as he'd like to.

                “Okay. Right. Obviously.”

                Something in her tone of voice must have alerted the man that the information he’d volunteered was mildly intriguing at best, horribly confusing, and did almost nothing to better Callie’s understanding of anything.

                “It seems I’m getting quite ahead of myself. I apologize once again. I do so love to philosophize about this place. Let me start over. I am Finch Starling and I am what is known as an Agent, part of an organization here in Nier, called the Rift. It is my task to seek out promising new arrivals and lead them to the Rift. Do you remember what happened in your life that resulted in your coming here?” The look Finch fixed on her was somehow compassionate and uplifting without being pitying. It must be a talent.

                For her part, Callie didn’t particularly want to talk about the momentary shock and pain that came from being hit by a car, but there was obviously something going on. Something strange.

                “I got hit by a car. I was cycling to school and I wasn’t looking and it was driving really fast. It hurt pretty bad and I opened my eyes here and everything is strange and the lake is freaking pink.” Callie hadn’t realized how much the situation had been bothering her, perhaps from residual shock creating a numb calm. Now that Finch was asking about it, the words flew from her mouth and left her shaking in their wake.

                Realizing she still didn’t have an answer to the most important question, she quietly spoke again.

                “Am I dead?”

                “Yes, and no. It all depends on the perspective.”

                “What is that even supposed to mean?”

                “You are no longer alive. However, the accident that should’ve caused you to cross over into Death instead brought you here. Essentially, you’re not properly dead either.”

                Callie made a face. “Are you telling I’m a zombie? Because that’s just sucky.”

                The man across from her merely raised his eyebrow. “No, you’re not a zombie. The proper term for what you have become would be revenant. All creatures of Nier are revenants. It is only the strongest of those that become part of the Rift. You might’ve noticed there is no real wildlife here. This is presumably because the conditions that trigger the transformation of a living soul into a revenant only occur in highly sentient beings.”

                And indeed, now that attention had been brought to the matter, California couldn’t remember seeing a single animal since she woke up on the shores of the lake.

                “Humans with exceptional qualities of any kind tend to become strong revenants, like you. It doesn’t have anything to do with physical strength so much as spiritual strength, and therefore the Rift cares little what particular quality caused the soul to become a revenant.”

                Finch gave her a quick smile and took a step in her direction. “Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s get this over with.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. Callie closed her eyes to blink and when she opened them, they were in a large room with a domed ceiling. The walls shone a muted gold, like the afternoon sun. It was a strange room, but not an unpleasant atmosphere. In fact it was remarkably relaxing.

                She was shocked out of her reverie when she looked at the mirror-smooth floor and caught a glimpse of what must be her reflection. Her face a familiar shape, the eyes that stared out of it shocked her. Where she had always had blue eyes, the irises had turned a light gray, like silver or steel. Her long brown hair, worn in a ponytail and given not a moment’s thought, was now the sort of white that couldn’t decide whether it looked more blue or gray. Her skin, having always had a healthy sort of slight flush, was ashen. How she had not noticed the difference in the color of her own skin was beyond her, although perhaps the situation at hand was a viable excuse for her thoughtlessness.

                If her companion noticed her moment of shock, he did not let on. Instead his eyes were fixed on the far side of the room, where there appeared to be something interesting going on, if the look on his face was any indication.

                Turning around, she noticed what he was looking at and stopped in her tracks. What exactly the figure at the end of the room looked like was hard to tell, as it was shrouded in a warm, pinkish light. It appeared to originate from within the figure, and like a lamp shining into the eyes, it was hard to look at directly.

                After a moment, a sweet voice filled the room. It was a girl’s voice, a sound like chiming bells. It spoke of things Finch had told her, things she’d come to understand. Then, heartbreakingly pure and gentle, it talked of the future. It told of the pure purposes, the balance the Rift endeavored to uphold, the things the organization did to protect and serve mankind. It offered her a part in this, something that could be nothing but a glorious cause, and Callie didn’t doubt, didn't have to think for more than a second before she agreed.

                “Very well. From now on, you shall be formally known as the Lady of Ashes. Welcome to your new home.”

I wrote a thing (Ashes, chapter 1)

I've actually been working on this for quite a while, it's not like I can just write something like this on a free afternoon..

So anyway, what follows is the first chapter of  a story I'm writing. I'm not entirely pleased with all of it, honestly think a lot of it sounds far too juvenile, but I suppose it's quite alright for a first try.

There are some details that are a little fuzzy (like where exactly they live) that may or may not be finalized later, depending on how the writing of this thing goes..

If you do read this, I would really appreciate it if you could take the time to tell me what you think, how I can improve, etc. :D.

Enjoy?

Ashes

SHARD #1

12/17/2013

California hadn't seen the car coming.

That's actually a pretty good one for once, nice and ambiguous; she thought, even now finding amusement in the strange sentences that sometimes formed when she thought of herself in the third person, making a sort of narrative to accompany her life. California hadn't seen The Car coming. Was the entire state of California ignorant as to the process of revolution preceding the eventual advent of the modern car, allowing for the appearance of said mode of transport to hit them in the face, totally unawares? Had Californian people not been aware of the growing excitement around the subject of vehicular transport?

It was food for thought. Or it would be if it were an actual thing. Realistically speaking, this tangent she was going off on was perhaps not the reaction most would have had to her situation. Then again, I'm not all that much like most people. Cass would probably have understood. He found her ability to laugh at the horrible name she had been given through means of contextual comedy quite entertaining, even if he himself had never had a tendency to cross-examine pieces of text for the unintentional hilarity of alternate meanings. Although this was a situation so strange and otherworldly that perhaps even he would have found her ramblings inappropriate.

California hadn't seen the car coming.

That should be pretty obvious, considering the situation. This quite impossible situation that would not have arisen if she had seen it coming. Probably. Then again, things often happened for a reason, and the way the guy was driving, he might've even hit her if she had been paying attention. Possibly. It was strange, she reflected, that she hadn't felt different this morning, hadn't paid much attention to anyone around her. She'd been glad, as always, that her father's girlfriend did not have to leave the house early and therefore was not downstairs to bother her. She'd been annoyed at the pelting rain that greeted her when she stepped foot outside the door and made her way to their small bike shed in the backyard. Cycling to school, she'd been cold, wet and tired, and she'd not been looking forward to the day ahead of her. Never for a second had she stopped to think about the way she'd absentmindedly walked out of the kitchen, offering her father nothing but a barely intelligible murmur of goodbye. Never for a second had she stopped to consider the possibility that those words would have been the last she'd ever get to speak to her dad.

California hadn't seen the car coming.

It was a small mistake, but it had been a fatal one.

California Bethesda Thorne had died this morning, yet right now she was awake and conscious in a place that resembled Earth, but was somehow fundamentally different. She was alone and confused in a place that was Other, and she was going to have to figure out what was going on.

***

Casper Farground had never been the type to pay much attention in history class. This could technically be considered a fundamental flaw of character, if only because history was a bitch if you had to study for the exams without having paid the professor's lectures any mind. He knew this fact very well, and had spent countless nights stressed out, dreading quizzes he had just vainly studied for, knowing that he was never going to understand it at this rate. One would think that after experiencing the dread so many times, he would know not to drift off during class. He did know this, technically. He wasn't unintelligent, but he tended to be quite absentminded at times. Times like history class, in which his teacher would drone on endlessly about one war or another, rattling off facts about battles and revolutions in quick succession and yet managing to make every word to come out of his mouth seem extremely dull. It was times like these that would set his mind adrift, floating from one thought to another. As always, though, his thoughts seemed to cycle back on themselves, ending up with him spending most of class thinking about his dreams from the night before. God, he wished Callie lived closer. That way they could hang out and he could actually freely talk about her to his friends, without having to pray they wouldn't pry. She was a subject he had learned early not to bring up too casually. In fact, he hardly talked about her to anyone, and never in great detail. She did the same thing, he knew. It was hardly surprising; both of them knew exactly how it felt to be treated like a weirdo. Or – even worse, really – a fraud.

Childhood innocence had led the both of them to excitedly talk to anyone who would hear about the person they met every night in their dreams. Back then, around the age of six, neither of them had realized it wasn't normal to return to the same scenery every dreaming moment. Neither was it normal to share those dreams with another individual, playing together and exploring the vast forest of a dreamscape. Back then, adults had looked at Casper in bewilderment before smiling and nodding, going along with his stories. It was not entirely unusual, after all, for children to have imaginary friends. This amused dismissal of the issue stood at the base of Casper's openness in talking about it. It was only years later, when his peers had lost their illusions and imaginary friends, that the problem arose. Children are harsh creatures, and their belief that Casper was making things up in order to appear special eventually caused his classmates to start picking on him. Once he finally entered middle school and made new friends, he made sure not to make the mistake of mentioning the dreams. In those very same dreams, he was at least able to talk to Callie about it. She'd had much the same experience, and the ability to understand each other on this front made them grow ever closer.

Over the years, they'd noticed there were a few conditions to the dream sharing. Apparently it only happened when both of them were asleep at the same time. Anytime one fell asleep when the other wasn't, they were able to have normal dreams. In their youth, their time zones had been quite close to each other, but when Callie's parents had divorced around five years ago, she'd moved with her dad to a place half a world away, and now she was about five time zones removed from his residence. This essentially meant that they only had half the night together. Really, he mused, this was not so much of a problem, because while they were perfectly adjusted to each other and had no problems at all with just being together in companionable silence, the fact remained that they were growing teens. Spending hours upon hours with a person of the opposite sex – with any one person, really – caused annoyances and frustrations that were sometimes a little hard to deal with. Luckily for them, at least, the two friends had figured out that while they couldn’t do anything about the strange dreams, they could spend them away from each other. It made for a good escape from the otherwise inevitable but pointless confrontations that left them hours later, wondering why they’d been angry in the first place.

Last night, Callie had mentioned something about a fishing trip she would be going on with her dad next week. She was understandably excited; the way she told it, her father hadn’t had much time to spend with his only child since he got into his relationship with the Grump. Not that she loved him any less for it. His girlfriend she didn’t care all that much for, although there had been worse ones. Callie had had derogatory nicknames for all of her dad’s girlfriends, of which ‘grump’ was one of the more flattering. Sometimes Casper found himself thinking she shouldn’t be so hard on the women, but then what did he know? His parents were still together, and even if the measure of their togetherness could be a little nauseating sometimes, he’d rather have them act lovey-dovey than fight all the time. It would have been horrible, having to choose between my parents. I’d probably have been one of those kids that travel back and forth all the time, living with both parents in turn. It wouldn’t be an issue anymore, now. He was old enough to move out, rendering the whole discussion of whom to live with redundant. All of that considered, though, it became easier to understand his friend’s attitude. He couldn’t imagine having to put up with some strange woman filling in for his mother.

All of a sudden he started into awareness of the path his thoughts had taken. He chuckled under his breath and noted, not for the first time, that he was glad his train of thought had no passengers. They’d probably be hopelessly lost and confused on a train that was going somewhere else than intended. Incidentally, the one time he’d mentioned this particular concern for non-passengers on a figurative train, Callie had not even blinked, merely replying that she was sure the rail maps were bound to be interesting.

The train without passengers was called to an abrupt halt by an elbow that somehow found its way to Cass’ ribs. He let out a soft whoosh of air and turned to face the offender. His friend Jack looked back at him with amused annoyance, all the while finishing a sentence the start of which had gone regrettably ignored. As usual. All Cass was able to pick up was, “–the entire point of coming to class in the first place, right?”

At his neighbor’s cloudy expression, Jack heaved a long-suffering sigh, blowing his slightly too-long fringe away from his face. “You know what? I wonder why I even bother talking to you anymore. You’re no fun, Castillo. All you seem to do all day is gaze dreamily in front of you – thinking about dear sweet California, probably – and you never find it in you to listen to your best bud when he’s trying his damnedest to give you advice. I see when my help is not wanted.” At this, he turned up his nose and faced away, but the glint in his eyes gave away his good humor. Jack was the one person Casper had told the truth about the dreams. He was intrigued, rather than repulsed at the strangeness of it all. That didn’t mean he would refrain from making comments about it now and then, however.

“Perhaps if you would stop with the constant random nicknames, I’d be more inclined to listen to you, you moron,” Cass replied with a grin. “Anyway, since when do you take it upon yourself to give other people advice? You don’t think you’d do better to start with yourself?”

“I’ll have you know I give myself very good advice. Remember that one time when I –” he was interrupted by the professor’s announcement that most of what he’d said today would find its way into the end-of-term exam. Sighing, both young men packed up their stuff and made their way to the cafeteria.

***

That night, Casper didn’t dream the world with Callie. Instead, he found himself in a place that was, in an inexplicable way, decidedly strange. It was hard to tell what, if anything, was markedly odd about it, other than the atmosphere that kind of... pulsed. And even that was more of a hint of perception, rather than an actual sensation. But that was the environment. Immediately obvious was that he wasn't really himself. Or, well, not physically anyway; his body felt all wrong and the palms of his hands and soles of his feet felt incredibly sensitive where they stood in connection to the pastel-tinted bluish-green grass he appeared to be on. Cass had had enough experience with 'normal' dreams of this kind to effectively judge himself to be a cat. A glance down at his paws and a twitch of his tail confirmed his suspicions. This was fine. Felines he could handle. There'd been that one time he was apparently subconsciously rather interested in spiders... let's just say too many extra limbs didn't sit well with him. And that was completely disregarding his perfectly manly and totally-not-childish fear of anything remotely spindly-legged and insectile - or, in this case, arachnoid.

But all this was beside the point.

Though they could probably be considered weird in and of themselves, most of the cat-dreams tended to be very mundane in nature. Never before had he ended up in a place quite like this; it was probably best comparable to a great plain of what appeared to be normal grass, aside from its strangely dull color - cat vision might be different from its human counterpart, and colors might always be comparatively dull, this was a bleached-out sort of color, more like an idea of a color than the actual thing - which was also kind of blue. The plain was flanked on all sides by a strange sort of rocky bluff that protruded out of the ground with a remarkable suddenness, the grass growing right up to the edge but the jagged slopes themselves unmarked by vegetation of any kind. The cliffs weren't very high - not much more than five meters, Casper would estimate, and as far as he could see there were two ways off the plain: a narrow crevasse with a sort of dirt path that appeared to lead through it, and a broad set of stairs, hewn into the rock face and worn by the touch of many feet. The sky above was an idyllic mixture of shades of pink, purple and blue, with some mostly gray patches that might have been the orange his feline eyes weren't equipped to pick up on. It was neither warm nor cold; some sort of non-temperature that is not really paid any attention for its lack of definition.

Cass' earlier cursory glance at his body had told him that the fur he donned tonight was a smoky gray. He supposed he may or may not have been orange, red or brown, assuming (which is what he'd always done) cat vision in his dreams worked akin to the way he knew it did in reality.

Sizing up the stone steps and coming to the conclusion that his current shape would not accommodate the ascent, Casper-the-cat turned to the path leading through the cliffs, a narrow stretch with solid, imposing rock walls towering on either side. He supposed he hadn't much to lose either way. It was either do some exploring or wait out the time in the grassy clearing. The decision was a quick and easy one. 

Ugh.

Alright, I'm so not amused right now.
I was like already halfway over the guy and then my scumbag subconscious decided to troll me with some bitch-ass dream that just basically ruined all my progress and now I feel like a little girl with a crush. Again. 

I so do not need this right now!

D:.


~Levyathan

Kind of disappointing

Alright, I'll admit it: I seem to be about the only person in the world who hasn't yet seen Sherlock.
I've started watching it this week and I love it to bits, but everytime I start talking to someone about how cool it is, they're like "yeah I know right, what, you hadn't seen it?". I have a reason for this, though. It's only very recently that I've even begun watching regular tv shows. It never really occured to me that you can just download them and watch them in the right order at your own convenience. My brain must be broken. Anyway, once I started watching, some series caught my attention really quickly, although that is probably partly because I picked those because I was pretty sure I'd love them. Whatever.

So I started watching Sherlock. And along with season one and two, I'd gotten the unaired pilot. I don't know if you guys have seen it. Anyway, it was labeled episode 0, so I figured I'd watch it before watching episode 1. I watched it, and I freaking loved it. To bits. Imagine my frustration when I found out that not only was episode one basically the same episode, I liked the pilot better. It put me off, a little. I haven't tried asking people if I was the only one to have this reaction, but I might.

Even with that, though, I still love the show. I'm kind of sad it only has three episodes a season. :(.

~Lev

Oh My God.

Bilbo is John Watson. I knew he looked familiar.