'He'
Mid-30s
Grew up in a reservation town; Not the one the story is set in.
Father was a hunter, owned a bait shop.
Presently owns/works at a souvenir corner-store shop at a town at the base of a mountain. Lives above the store; Has a problem with the occasional bear sneaking into the trees in his backyard to eat from the garbage of the pizza place next door.
It is not a tasty pizza place, but it'll do.
Very introverted, keeps to himself. Doesn't talk a lot with his customers, except for the occasional direction or conversation about the weather.
Very..Loner-ish vibes.
Short, dark hair on a receeding hairline.
About six foot five. Very tall. Broad shoulders. Well-built, but aging.
Seeing the 'she' in the story; they do not live together.
No children, nor any desire to have any.
Has two older brothers; Sees them once every other year for Thanksgiving. They're moderately successful and wealthy, they get along distantly.
Community college education; associates in business. Good credit, so starting the store was not a problem.
He was a good student, modest grades, made no ripples.
Trades animal skins occasionally, though he himself does not hunt them. He fronts for those willing to sell them in the town, however; No where else wants to do business with them, as they're a bit of a crass bunch. He doesn't mind.
Significant events:
1) His eighth birthday, the first seizure.
2) His twenty second birthday; the last seizure.
3) The loss of his virginity at his 22nd to a one-night-stand. He didn't mind.
4)One significant girlfriend or two throughout college/high school. But, he was too..Boring for them, I suspect.
He enjoys beef jerky and turkey sandwiches, but eats a lot of salad and granola. A product of where he lives- A lot of younger people flock in and don't quite care for local cuisine. That's okay, too, he supposes.
All the world will be your enemy, Prince of a Thousand enemies. And when they catch you, they will kill you.
But first they must catch you; digger, listener, runner, Prince with the swift warning. Be cunning, and full of tricks, and your people will never be destroyed.
-Richard Adams, Watership Down.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Late Blog Entries - Week 12
Oops! Was having some trouble with blogger. So, here's entry 1:
I'm trying to aim for a sort of ..Surreal story, in which there's a rift driven between the two characters and their reality, their placement in the world. Old thoughts come back to haunt them, and they have to contemplate what is there and perhaps what isn't. The philosophical perspective/tone will probably branch off to lead the reader to it's own conclusion as to weather or not this is entirely accomplished, I pray.
It's still being written-written-and-re-written, so..! There's quite a way to go, yet.
I'd like to expect my reader to be able to analyze and articulate some of the symbolism within some little things within the story, like the setting or the placement, the isolation, the image of the elk itself, but I'm a really analytical reader, and thus tend to expect a lot of that from others as well, though I am well aware it's not always the case.
I'm trying to aim for a sort of ..Surreal story, in which there's a rift driven between the two characters and their reality, their placement in the world. Old thoughts come back to haunt them, and they have to contemplate what is there and perhaps what isn't. The philosophical perspective/tone will probably branch off to lead the reader to it's own conclusion as to weather or not this is entirely accomplished, I pray.
It's still being written-written-and-re-written, so..! There's quite a way to go, yet.
I'd like to expect my reader to be able to analyze and articulate some of the symbolism within some little things within the story, like the setting or the placement, the isolation, the image of the elk itself, but I'm a really analytical reader, and thus tend to expect a lot of that from others as well, though I am well aware it's not always the case.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
An Ideal Morning
I'd wake up at seven am to the wallpaper again, after a full night of sleep, feeling rested for once. It'd be warm, naturally, and the room would smell like- What? Soap, I guess. Maybe chlorine. Mint and - What else is it they use? Something. Something nice.
Maybe I'd wake up cool. I'd have a job to do. I'd work with them for once.
Better yet I'd be at the resort with Matt. God, wouldn't that be grand? Our first trip. We'd be up and awake early, have beignets- Fuck, yes, so many beignets! How do you spell that? I don't care. It'd be amazing and warm and my legs wouldn't hurt, and we'd go off to Hollywood Studios and I'd inexplicably know people and we'd ride all the rides and see all the things.
We'd go to Epcot and he'd have to drink Beverly- And I'd laugh at him because it tastes bad. We'd buy all sorts of candy and food, go to Mars- Hell, maybe I'd have a ring on my finger and two kids would be along with us laughing at him because, again, Beverly is awful. It'd be fun. Whimsical. And we'd have all sorts of pictures and memories and we'd be there until one in the morning- And we'd skip to the Magic Kingdom, and watch fireworks with small, sleepy people, and we'd all find a little belief in magic.
That sounds nice.
Maybe I'd wake up cool. I'd have a job to do. I'd work with them for once.
Better yet I'd be at the resort with Matt. God, wouldn't that be grand? Our first trip. We'd be up and awake early, have beignets- Fuck, yes, so many beignets! How do you spell that? I don't care. It'd be amazing and warm and my legs wouldn't hurt, and we'd go off to Hollywood Studios and I'd inexplicably know people and we'd ride all the rides and see all the things.
We'd go to Epcot and he'd have to drink Beverly- And I'd laugh at him because it tastes bad. We'd buy all sorts of candy and food, go to Mars- Hell, maybe I'd have a ring on my finger and two kids would be along with us laughing at him because, again, Beverly is awful. It'd be fun. Whimsical. And we'd have all sorts of pictures and memories and we'd be there until one in the morning- And we'd skip to the Magic Kingdom, and watch fireworks with small, sleepy people, and we'd all find a little belief in magic.
That sounds nice.
Another Call - Blog entry 2 week 10
"Miranda? Is that you?"
The other end of the phone held silence, static. The tension was thick as Candace Roberts turned the plastic, heavy, cord-connected phone in her hand, waiting for the answer. There was a noise- It sounded like someone swallowing, hard.
"Yes."
Her voice was clipped and harsh, a little ragged around the edges. Candace breathed out, and hissed,
"Where have you been? It's been months, no one's heard of you! You just skipped out, like that?" She waved her hand, invisible to the woman on the other side of the phone line, miles and miles away, as she whispered in the dark, so as not to wake her sleeping husband and children. Candace's husband would have frowned upon this secretization, this phone call, even. He may even have to have words with her- Words that involved palms and bruises, occasionally fists. But- He wasn't awake now. It was alright.
Miranda shuffled, miles away in the plastic phonebooth on a dingy corner, the streetlamp flickering. She kept putting quarters in, though she hardly had enough words in her to fill the fifteen minute time slot. She exhaled and the plumes of breath rose in the air, like warning signals. She shook her head and replied, tasting grit against her back teeth.
"I- I had ta go, Candance. They were findin' me, you know? They kept callin- And callin'. Shit, I can't stay there like that. I can't have them knowin'."
Candace ran a trembling hand through her hair, waves of relief washing over. Was that it? Was that all really it? Was that what had driven her away- Some phone calls?
"Some phone calls? Well- I mean, I'm sure they stopped now. Maybe they were mistaken-"
"He knew my mothers name, Candace!"
The voice exploded from the end of the phone, and Miranda trembled, the explosion of her scream echoing in her temples. Candace nearly dropped the plastic receptical, and whispered,
"Miranda, we checked- We did! There hasn't been anyone calling-"
"Hold on, Candace-"
Miranda turned the phone over, the busy signal beeping. She pressed a button- The call switched, and the man's voice whispered low across miles,
"Hello, Miranda."
She screamed, and fell against the glass in the booth. Thunder shook the world.
Miles and miles away, Candace's line went dead, and she stared at the phone, wondering what had happened.
The other end of the phone held silence, static. The tension was thick as Candace Roberts turned the plastic, heavy, cord-connected phone in her hand, waiting for the answer. There was a noise- It sounded like someone swallowing, hard.
"Yes."
Her voice was clipped and harsh, a little ragged around the edges. Candace breathed out, and hissed,
"Where have you been? It's been months, no one's heard of you! You just skipped out, like that?" She waved her hand, invisible to the woman on the other side of the phone line, miles and miles away, as she whispered in the dark, so as not to wake her sleeping husband and children. Candace's husband would have frowned upon this secretization, this phone call, even. He may even have to have words with her- Words that involved palms and bruises, occasionally fists. But- He wasn't awake now. It was alright.
Miranda shuffled, miles away in the plastic phonebooth on a dingy corner, the streetlamp flickering. She kept putting quarters in, though she hardly had enough words in her to fill the fifteen minute time slot. She exhaled and the plumes of breath rose in the air, like warning signals. She shook her head and replied, tasting grit against her back teeth.
"I- I had ta go, Candance. They were findin' me, you know? They kept callin- And callin'. Shit, I can't stay there like that. I can't have them knowin'."
Candace ran a trembling hand through her hair, waves of relief washing over. Was that it? Was that all really it? Was that what had driven her away- Some phone calls?
"Some phone calls? Well- I mean, I'm sure they stopped now. Maybe they were mistaken-"
"He knew my mothers name, Candace!"
The voice exploded from the end of the phone, and Miranda trembled, the explosion of her scream echoing in her temples. Candace nearly dropped the plastic receptical, and whispered,
"Miranda, we checked- We did! There hasn't been anyone calling-"
"Hold on, Candace-"
Miranda turned the phone over, the busy signal beeping. She pressed a button- The call switched, and the man's voice whispered low across miles,
"Hello, Miranda."
She screamed, and fell against the glass in the booth. Thunder shook the world.
Miles and miles away, Candace's line went dead, and she stared at the phone, wondering what had happened.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Age Analyzer
The AgeAnalyzer thinks http://prince-of-a-thousand.blogspot.com/ is written by someone 51-65 years old.
Welllp. Nooot quite.
Contrastingly, it thought one of my roleplay blogs (which has an enormous amount of long text-based posts) was written by someone between 65 and 100 years old.
What is this.
What is my lifffeee.
Welllp. Nooot quite.
Contrastingly, it thought one of my roleplay blogs (which has an enormous amount of long text-based posts) was written by someone between 65 and 100 years old.
What is this.
What is my lifffeee.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Week Nine - Poem
Branches crowning skyline,
the skeleton hands grasping blue-eyed clouds,
standing beneath them on a grass penitentiary,
we walk, prisoners to the pine-air.
Bones scatter the dirt and debris of deer and elk,
the world a coyote's play-land and wandering,
while we skirt corners and run hard against the leaf-skins left behind.
We pause to the giant, lightning-struck oak and wait,
meandering eyes searching skyward,
we stand, in chains of blue and cloud-whisp.
They weep across our backs,
as we turn to wander home.
the skeleton hands grasping blue-eyed clouds,
standing beneath them on a grass penitentiary,
we walk, prisoners to the pine-air.
Bones scatter the dirt and debris of deer and elk,
the world a coyote's play-land and wandering,
while we skirt corners and run hard against the leaf-skins left behind.
We pause to the giant, lightning-struck oak and wait,
meandering eyes searching skyward,
we stand, in chains of blue and cloud-whisp.
They weep across our backs,
as we turn to wander home.
Late Week Nines - Part 3
Fifty things I'm proud of.
1. Opening my writing enough to be comfortable in it.
2. Attacking the sestina!
3. Surviving the divorce of my parents and not faltering into a false sense of depression or self entitlement from the endeavor.
4. Training my dog to hi-five me, even if it’s not accurate.
5. Saving and making it to Disneyland in 2011.
6. Being with Matt for four and a half years.
7. Shaving my head and growing it back to ¾ the previous length, at present.
8. My consistent GPA of 3.0+
9. I’ve written three short stories that are well enough to stand on their own.
10. I can cook.
11. Taking that life-drawing course, doing my best.
12. Learning more through the application of hard work and perseverance.
13. I have perhaps never read so many novels in my life at one sitting as I had in college, even in my own time, which is exciting.
14. Well, I do read a lot, so perhaps I have and perhaps this is a falsehood, but at least I’ve read new things.
15. Finding enough confidence in my ability to tackle/conquer what I had previously considered impossible.
16. Redefining impossible.
17. Who’s working on learning Spanish very, very slowly? This person!
18. Trying to plan a future. It’s a sketch but I’m working on it.
19. Being able to work with the inevitable and unforeseen. Things happen, keep moving.
20. Keeping moving even when I feel like the sky is falling.
21. I make a mean apple pie.
22. Alternatively, I make an amazing grilled cheese.
23. I can draw a person in five minutes, proportionally.
24. I have not succumbed to any personal illness of defeat.
25. I know when I can or cannot do things; But I press myself anyway. Some things are important.
26. I finally watched Psycho, among a whole host of other films that were on my to-do list.
27. My to-do list is getting shorter by the day, this is nice.
28. I’m not too bad at writing things, and for this I’m at least a little proud, and a little egotistical.
29. I don’t feel too bad about being prideful.
30. I don’t boast, however. One has to be humble.
31. I have opened my mind and read more ‘classic’ works of literature. It’s been interesting. A little stale in some areas, but interesting.
32. I have helped some of my dear friends through hard times. I am proud to be called their friends.
33. I have made new friends in areas into which I would not have previously ventured, and they are all incredibly dear to me.
34. I wrote some pretty nice poems. That was fun.
35. I was able to assist my mum over the summer in a variety of house projects.
36. I can overcome my fears, demons, or worries through discussion and writing, more-so than through hiding them away.
37. I’m in college; I can conquer the world, right?
38. Okay, not so much, but I’ve newfound confidence in myself nonetheless.
39. I have worked hard steadily all the time I’ve been here.
40. I’ve been to a couple of conventions in costume/character and they’ve each been a success!
41. I have better determined my political stance through my own research and learnings.
42. I do not need to be influenced by any one person or persons to make my own opinions, and to make them known.
43. I know that, when I see something I do not agree with, I can say so.
44. I have a voice of conviction, and I can use it.
45. I was in a small movie, and it was tons of fun.
46. I am, and will be, going places.
47. I have nearly completed this list, and have 50 things to be proud of.
48. I can see things from the points of views of others, and respect their knowledge and experience while comparing it to my own.
49. Furthermore, I understand and can discuss the importance in being able to do so.
50. I am happy, and there is no reason to feel otherwise.
51. My darling boyfriend, for all the work he has done, and the wonderful, amazing production he directed this past weekend.
1. Opening my writing enough to be comfortable in it.
2. Attacking the sestina!
3. Surviving the divorce of my parents and not faltering into a false sense of depression or self entitlement from the endeavor.
4. Training my dog to hi-five me, even if it’s not accurate.
5. Saving and making it to Disneyland in 2011.
6. Being with Matt for four and a half years.
7. Shaving my head and growing it back to ¾ the previous length, at present.
8. My consistent GPA of 3.0+
9. I’ve written three short stories that are well enough to stand on their own.
10. I can cook.
11. Taking that life-drawing course, doing my best.
12. Learning more through the application of hard work and perseverance.
13. I have perhaps never read so many novels in my life at one sitting as I had in college, even in my own time, which is exciting.
14. Well, I do read a lot, so perhaps I have and perhaps this is a falsehood, but at least I’ve read new things.
15. Finding enough confidence in my ability to tackle/conquer what I had previously considered impossible.
16. Redefining impossible.
17. Who’s working on learning Spanish very, very slowly? This person!
18. Trying to plan a future. It’s a sketch but I’m working on it.
19. Being able to work with the inevitable and unforeseen. Things happen, keep moving.
20. Keeping moving even when I feel like the sky is falling.
21. I make a mean apple pie.
22. Alternatively, I make an amazing grilled cheese.
23. I can draw a person in five minutes, proportionally.
24. I have not succumbed to any personal illness of defeat.
25. I know when I can or cannot do things; But I press myself anyway. Some things are important.
26. I finally watched Psycho, among a whole host of other films that were on my to-do list.
27. My to-do list is getting shorter by the day, this is nice.
28. I’m not too bad at writing things, and for this I’m at least a little proud, and a little egotistical.
29. I don’t feel too bad about being prideful.
30. I don’t boast, however. One has to be humble.
31. I have opened my mind and read more ‘classic’ works of literature. It’s been interesting. A little stale in some areas, but interesting.
32. I have helped some of my dear friends through hard times. I am proud to be called their friends.
33. I have made new friends in areas into which I would not have previously ventured, and they are all incredibly dear to me.
34. I wrote some pretty nice poems. That was fun.
35. I was able to assist my mum over the summer in a variety of house projects.
36. I can overcome my fears, demons, or worries through discussion and writing, more-so than through hiding them away.
37. I’m in college; I can conquer the world, right?
38. Okay, not so much, but I’ve newfound confidence in myself nonetheless.
39. I have worked hard steadily all the time I’ve been here.
40. I’ve been to a couple of conventions in costume/character and they’ve each been a success!
41. I have better determined my political stance through my own research and learnings.
42. I do not need to be influenced by any one person or persons to make my own opinions, and to make them known.
43. I know that, when I see something I do not agree with, I can say so.
44. I have a voice of conviction, and I can use it.
45. I was in a small movie, and it was tons of fun.
46. I am, and will be, going places.
47. I have nearly completed this list, and have 50 things to be proud of.
48. I can see things from the points of views of others, and respect their knowledge and experience while comparing it to my own.
49. Furthermore, I understand and can discuss the importance in being able to do so.
50. I am happy, and there is no reason to feel otherwise.
51. My darling boyfriend, for all the work he has done, and the wonderful, amazing production he directed this past weekend.
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