Watercolor Pencils + New Scanner = Ultimate Awesomeness for me!
Now I have my first short story with illustrations, and soon it will be followed by my first blog entry with illustrations! Granted, my pictures aren't the best, but I put a lot of effort into them and usually like the results.
Such as this piece, the title picture for my short story: Crisis at Forest's Edge. Whipped it up in a few minutes, so you know it isn't my best work, especially the uneven shading of the sky. Still, not bad for an amateur, wouldn't you say?
-Triscribe
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Monday, December 23, 2013
The Hunt
From the instant Edercy the Tracker first stepped into the forest, he knew it was a land like no other. The initial layer of vegetation grew close together, forming a thick barrier, almost in an attempt to hold back intruders. Once one got past the clinging vines, gnarled trees and thorn-covered bushes, though, the forest was quite beautiful. Sun filled meadows frequently appeared, and there were plenty of animal trails to follow to avoid the worst of the plants. Streams meandered through the trees, marked by bright green ferns and mossy boulders.
What interested Edercy the most, however, were the traps.
These were not simple snares set along animal trails or near watering holes, but ingenious booby-traps designed to capture intruders of the two-legged variety. Edercy spotted most immediately, though he knew that typical raiding parties from the logging camps or other spreaders of civilization would be blundering into them without the slightest clue of danger. There were pitfalls that dropped down into cloying mud, tripwires set before large cloths covered in sticky sap, and a variety of nets and swinging logs that would knock a grow man off his feet.
None of these traps were lethal, a particular point that Edercy noted with some disgust, despite that anyone unfortunate enough to become entangled in them would need to procure expert help in order to get out again.
Ignoring the multitude of simple traps, the Tracker tried to focus on finding signs of his quarry, since it was clear she was the one to have prepared this welcome. As a consequence of his concentration, Edercy almost stepped straight into the next level of defenses.
He felt the nearly invisible wire as soon as he trod on it, and a sixth sense told the man to drop to the ground, just before a light projectile whistled right over his head, striking the tree trunk behind him instead. Cautiously returning to his feet, Edercy inspected this new trap. A small bolt, probably fired from a miniature crossbow set somewhere in the tree beyond, had sunk into the bark. Pulling it out for a closer look, the Tracker noted the dark stain at the end. Probably a sedative poison, he thought. Now the hunt was becoming more serious.
Returning to his search, Edercy proceeded with more alertness to his surroundings. It barely mattered, as only his lightning-fast reflexes saved him from various more traps, which were gradually increasing in complexity. Somehow, the Tracker knew they were meant for him.
It began to grow dark in the forest even before the sun had touched down on the horizon, and Edercy began to turn his search from his quarry to a place to spend the night. He finally settled on a small cave carved out of a low mound, probably from some ancient tree that had grow out at an angle before falling to the ground and decomposing away. There was suitable cover around the cave, as well as an abundance of dry twigs and leaves, which would crunch slightly should anyone approach. Anyone other than his former apprentice and quarry, that is.
But Edercy wasn't worried about a night attack from Aylon. She would want to try to drive him out of the forest before fighting.
As the Tracker went to sleep, he didn't realize that the very one he searched for was sitting in the branches right over his shallow cave. The man didn't stir when she dropped down a little pod with thin skin, which burst open when it landed next to his nose. Even if Edercy had been awake and aware at that point, the sleeping gas that floated out of the pod would have knocked him out anyway.
The next morning, long after the sun had risen again, the Tracker awoke to find himself laid out on an old log, gently floating down the main tributary of the river that traveled out of the forest.
"Well played, Aylon." He whispered, aware that his knapsack of provisions and spare weaponry was missing. "But this is only the first round."
Wishing you a happy holiday season, and a better day than Edercy is going to have,
Triscribe
What interested Edercy the most, however, were the traps.
These were not simple snares set along animal trails or near watering holes, but ingenious booby-traps designed to capture intruders of the two-legged variety. Edercy spotted most immediately, though he knew that typical raiding parties from the logging camps or other spreaders of civilization would be blundering into them without the slightest clue of danger. There were pitfalls that dropped down into cloying mud, tripwires set before large cloths covered in sticky sap, and a variety of nets and swinging logs that would knock a grow man off his feet.
None of these traps were lethal, a particular point that Edercy noted with some disgust, despite that anyone unfortunate enough to become entangled in them would need to procure expert help in order to get out again.
Ignoring the multitude of simple traps, the Tracker tried to focus on finding signs of his quarry, since it was clear she was the one to have prepared this welcome. As a consequence of his concentration, Edercy almost stepped straight into the next level of defenses.
He felt the nearly invisible wire as soon as he trod on it, and a sixth sense told the man to drop to the ground, just before a light projectile whistled right over his head, striking the tree trunk behind him instead. Cautiously returning to his feet, Edercy inspected this new trap. A small bolt, probably fired from a miniature crossbow set somewhere in the tree beyond, had sunk into the bark. Pulling it out for a closer look, the Tracker noted the dark stain at the end. Probably a sedative poison, he thought. Now the hunt was becoming more serious.
Returning to his search, Edercy proceeded with more alertness to his surroundings. It barely mattered, as only his lightning-fast reflexes saved him from various more traps, which were gradually increasing in complexity. Somehow, the Tracker knew they were meant for him.
It began to grow dark in the forest even before the sun had touched down on the horizon, and Edercy began to turn his search from his quarry to a place to spend the night. He finally settled on a small cave carved out of a low mound, probably from some ancient tree that had grow out at an angle before falling to the ground and decomposing away. There was suitable cover around the cave, as well as an abundance of dry twigs and leaves, which would crunch slightly should anyone approach. Anyone other than his former apprentice and quarry, that is.
But Edercy wasn't worried about a night attack from Aylon. She would want to try to drive him out of the forest before fighting.
As the Tracker went to sleep, he didn't realize that the very one he searched for was sitting in the branches right over his shallow cave. The man didn't stir when she dropped down a little pod with thin skin, which burst open when it landed next to his nose. Even if Edercy had been awake and aware at that point, the sleeping gas that floated out of the pod would have knocked him out anyway.
The next morning, long after the sun had risen again, the Tracker awoke to find himself laid out on an old log, gently floating down the main tributary of the river that traveled out of the forest.
"Well played, Aylon." He whispered, aware that his knapsack of provisions and spare weaponry was missing. "But this is only the first round."
Wishing you a happy holiday season, and a better day than Edercy is going to have,
Triscribe
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Day Late
I meant to do a post yesterday for Friday the 13th, but just ran out of time. Spent too much time working on my new creation idea: Dragons of Sarant. So far I've created eight classifications, twenty total types of dragon, each with individual colors, habitats, distinctive weapons and general personalities. I pulled out the good old Dracopedia and Draconomicon for reference material, since those are two of my favorite dragon books of all time (despite that one is a how-to-draw book and the other was written for a D&D role-playing game). What do you think of these names:
The Ebon Drakes of Shadow, Smoke and Caverns; led by Mariatan, a firm believer in dragon superiority.
The Azure Serpents of Seas and Swamps; led by Atela the Passive, who doesn't believe in much at all
The Emerald Wyrms of Forest, Hill and Plain; led by Lahe, friend of druids
The Golden Dragons of Desert and Sun; led by Amutbeh the Silver-Eyed, supporter of survival of the fittest
The Pale Wyrms of Ice, Tundra and Air; led by Dialyl, friend of Frost Giants and supreme hunter of the Far North
The Crimson Dragons of Fire and the Abyss; led by Agryxal, Bringer of Destruction and Rebirth
The Terran Drakes of Earth, Mountain and Magma; led by Psoniak, who spends more time gardening then leading
The Violet Dragons of Storm and Light; led by Talasta, the Dragon Queen
And of course, I need to make drawings of each kind and the corresponding Anon servants. Gods that be, I have so much story work to get through... Hope you all have a good Saturday at the least.
-Triscribe
The Ebon Drakes of Shadow, Smoke and Caverns; led by Mariatan, a firm believer in dragon superiority.
The Azure Serpents of Seas and Swamps; led by Atela the Passive, who doesn't believe in much at all
The Emerald Wyrms of Forest, Hill and Plain; led by Lahe, friend of druids
The Golden Dragons of Desert and Sun; led by Amutbeh the Silver-Eyed, supporter of survival of the fittest
The Pale Wyrms of Ice, Tundra and Air; led by Dialyl, friend of Frost Giants and supreme hunter of the Far North
The Crimson Dragons of Fire and the Abyss; led by Agryxal, Bringer of Destruction and Rebirth
The Terran Drakes of Earth, Mountain and Magma; led by Psoniak, who spends more time gardening then leading
The Violet Dragons of Storm and Light; led by Talasta, the Dragon Queen
And of course, I need to make drawings of each kind and the corresponding Anon servants. Gods that be, I have so much story work to get through... Hope you all have a good Saturday at the least.
-Triscribe
Friday, December 6, 2013
Creative Explosion is No Good
Somehow, my mind has flipped into a creative overdrive. I've got story ideas for continuing the Royal Trio, but at the same time I'm working on the penciling for my semi-first comicbook and finally figuring out how to get past the plot blocks in the third book of my Sarantian trilogy and starting a revamp for my family of elementals' graphic novel series.
Normally, this would be all good, but coupled with getting pre-calculus homework done on time and putting in the effort to finish my last essay for Dual Credit English means I just don't have enough hours in the day to do everything I want to. Sometimes I think the people in charge of High School don't want me to be a successful author or artist...
Ah, well. I'll have the next installment for Aylon Wildseeker soon. For whoever actually reads this blog, that is.
-Triscribe
Normally, this would be all good, but coupled with getting pre-calculus homework done on time and putting in the effort to finish my last essay for Dual Credit English means I just don't have enough hours in the day to do everything I want to. Sometimes I think the people in charge of High School don't want me to be a successful author or artist...
Ah, well. I'll have the next installment for Aylon Wildseeker soon. For whoever actually reads this blog, that is.
-Triscribe
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Plans
“So what have you been practicing?” Jeren asked once he was finished.
“Hm? Oh, I've been trying to combine techniques from some different cultures into my own fighting style.”
“Well, you’re certainly got the combining part down. And I doubt any future opponents of yours would expect an attack from that fancy sword to be followed by a knockout punch.” Jeren laughed. “Although I wonder, just who exactly do you expect to be fighting?”
Janen shrugged, casually fiddling with her weapon. “Anyone who threatens my home or family, I suppose.”
“Somehow I don’t believe you plan on spending the rest of your life looking after Jillen and me.”
“As heir to the throne, my home will be all of Eckba, and any citizens of this land become my responsibility.” Jeren jumped slightly as his sister’s words rang about the training room, and he was startled to see the look of steely determination in her eyes.
“That’s good, I think, but how about in the mean time you come have dinner with your relatives?” He asked after a few moments of silence. Janen arched an eyebrow at him, but then smiled and set down her sword.
“Agreed.” She said, and Jeren clapped her on the shoulder.
“Good, because I’m starving, and Father won’t start until you get there.”Well, I think I jinxed myself. I said before I thought I might actually win NaNoWriMo this year, but I've barely done any writing at all in the last week. The reason? School. And working on other projects. I have a habit of jumping around from one project to another and back again within a matter of days. Granted, I was doing really well at first, just concentrating on the Royal Trio of Eckba, but now I've shifted over to my superhero comicbook series again.
Ah well, there's always next year. And for the next entry, I'll probably either type up the next step in Aylon Wildseeker's tale, or actually tell you a bit about the Jr. Team.
-Triscribe
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Diplomatic Skills
I love this transition, just for the ironic timing:
In most situations, it would be said that Janen has anger-management issues. But taking out your frustrations on a practice dummy is better than attacking the living servants, no matter how aggravating they are.
-Triscribe
"Sometimes I wish I could make people see that I only want what’s best for Eckba, and I know that means following the line of succession.”
“Then, you do support your sister as the heir to the throne?” Tessa questioned.
“Of course!" Jillen exclaimed. "It’s a hard job, one that neither me nor my brother want. Besides, Janen’s been preparing to do it all her life, and I think she’ll do a good job. Got all the diplomatic skills and everything.”
Janen started with a kick to her opponent’s head. Pivoting on her right foot, still firmly planted on the ground, she swung her sword in a tight curve, creating a long gash in the chestplate. When both feet were back down, Janen finished the attack with a right-handed direct jab that knocked the stuffed dummy off of the stand and sent it flying across the training room.
Taking a deep breath, the girl returned to a normal stance and bowed from the waist to her vanquished opponent.
“Let me guess - the dummy insulted your training habits.” Jeren said, standing by the doorway he’d emerged from just in time to see this last combination of attacks.
“Something like that.” Janen growled, still remembering Syl’s disrespectful comments from earlier that afternoon.In most situations, it would be said that Janen has anger-management issues. But taking out your frustrations on a practice dummy is better than attacking the living servants, no matter how aggravating they are.
-Triscribe
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Broom Guard
“Princess Janen! Princess Jillen!” Grumbling under her breath, Janen paused on the ramp that descended from the castle gate to the city proper. Her sister stopped as well, but without the muttered curses. Racing after them was a young guardsman, his shiny armor jostling and bouncing as he tried to pour on speed without losing his balance.
Catching up to the girls, the gasping guard slid to a stop, red-faced and with sweat dripping from his face. It took a minute for him to get his breath back.
“Please, or rather, if it pleases you, princesses, I’ve been, instructed, to protect you, until the rest, of the, troop, arrives.” He managed to gasp out.
“We don’t-”
“That’s very kind of you, guardsman.” Jillen jumped in, cutting off her sister’s annoyed response. “But, perhaps you could protect us better with a real weapon.” The guard was confused until Jillen gestured to the broom stuck through his belt.
“Oh gods!” He yelped. “I must have grabbed this instead of my sword!”
“Why don’t you run back to castle to get it.” Jillen suggested. “Don’t worry, we’ll wait here for you.” Looking from her sweet expression to the broom and back, the guardsman nodded vigorously.
“Right. You’re right, I should.” He started to turn but paused. “And you really will wait?”
“Of course! Now hurry, you don’t want to take too long.” He took off back up the ramp, and Janen eyed her sister.
“We aren't really going to wait, are we?” She asked.
“Only for a few seconds.”Doesn't this craftiness just bring a smile to your face?
-Triscribe
Friday, November 8, 2013
Musing time: Villains
No, wait, that was yesterday. And the day before. But I'm feeling better now, honest.
So, NaNoWriMo has been going well for me, almost to 20,000 words so far. That is a lot better than how I was doing at this point during the past two events I participated in. I might actually win this year, knock on wood. Anyone else out there writing a novel this November?
Well, of course there are, but I doubt that very many (or any at all) read this blog.
In between writing the story of the Royal Trio, I've been doing some character designs of villains, in my respective superhero literary projects. What do you think of these ideas:
Serene Siren
-Wields a mystical horn that can entrance those whom it is pointed and blow at. The greater the ignorance of the person, the longer they stay under Siren's control.
-Has a teenage son, who's a member of the Unlucky 13 super-villain team (just starting up), but is not counted on the list of great mothers. Or good mothers. Heck, even semi-decent mothers.
Dreadlight
-When enraged, he gains super-strength, invulnerability, and an eerie crimson glow.
-Current boyfriend/minion of the Serene Siren.
-Appears dimwitted, but is surprisingly intelligent.
Miss Moffat
-Poison-tipped claws, red eyes, and spider-like agility.
-Originally one of those cutesy villains who pulled heists with a spider theme more to get the attention of the press, now a deranged terrorist who's convinced everyone needs to learn what the true meaning of fear is.
Oozer
-Victim of a tragic accident that left his body a gelatinous, green mass barely held together by miniature force-shield generators in his clothes.
-High tech weapons smuggled and seller.
These would be the one or two time opponents for my Jr. Team agents. I still need to work on the Unlucky 13 and the big bad of that story, shadowy industrialist Belk A. Wren, or Blackren.
But that's a good start.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Introducing: The Royal Trio of Eckba
"I’ve been able to spend this past year going from one charming place to another, just doing the things I wanted to, instead of being put through one form of studying after another at home.”
“Did you actually learn anything?” Janen asked with a drawn out sigh, but her eyes twinkled with humor.
“Of course I did. The finer points of perusing a library, tracking animals in the field, and managing to hit the things I aim at with my bow.” Jeren sniffed.
“That’s good to know, considering how often you used to almost turn random servants into pincushions when you practiced in the castle courtyard.” Jillen teased.
“Believe it or not, I figured out the secret for how to avoid that.” Jeren said with a serious expression on his face.
“Oh?”
“Take my practice outside the courtyard.” The three of them shared a laugh again.Meet Janen, Jillen, and Jeren, the Royal Trio of Eckba. They are the three children of King Jorgen, and as my novel opens, are just returning after a year abroad. The oldest and heir to the throne, Janen, sought out great warriors and leaders to learn from. She's constantly decked out in armor, carries a fearsome-looking sword, and generally gets more stress from dealing with her younger siblings than preparing to rule a country.
Jillen was born with magic in her veins, and consequentially only has her sister and brother as friends. She's spent the last year travelling all over the world to find great magicians of all types to learn from. Her power has grown to mastery level, yet somehow, she still manages to set things on fire when startled.
The youngest, Jeren, didn't do very much in his year abroad, mainly because of the decision that he wants nothing to do with politics in the future. He'd like nothing more than to move to a quiet village in the countryside, and spend his days reading, hunting and helping out the residents of the nearby settlements.
Unfortunately for these three, who get along very well and respect each other's choices in life, most people in the country would prefer to see them fight for the throne.
I'm looking forward to see how they deal with that. /Evil grin
Happy NaNoWriMo!
-Triscribe
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Halloween: The Doorway to NaNoWriMo
No, that's to typical of an evil laugh. Maybe an cruel snicker would work better?
Heh heh heh...
Still not right. Ooh, I got it!
Eee-ahahaha!
High-pitched cackle. Always a winner.
Anywho, Happy Halloween! The one night a year immortal sidhe can be killed, or the power of a thousand spirits siphoned into one individual to make a new god.
What? Never heard of the Dresden Files by Jim Butcher? Too bad, epic series. I love mouthy protagonists with a penchant for fireballs.
So, this is the first year I'm not making a costume or going trick-or-treating. Kind of disappointing for me, but the flip side is that I'm going to stay up until midnight so that I can kick-off National Novel Writing Month right as November starts.
Of course, I will think back to this moment come tomorrow morning when I have to get up for school and seriously consider whether I happen to be insane or not.
So, this time tomorrow evening, I'll let you know how it went and what project I finally settled on for NaNoWriMo. The final contestants are: Royal Trio of Eckba, Ancestrals, or Ballistics Division.
Eee-ahahahahahaha!
-Triscribe
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Tracker's Arrival
When I stepped into the logging camp, I was greeted with stares and whispered comments. That was typical wherever the winds took me.
There isn't a person on this continent who hasn't heard of me, Edercy the Tracker.
My long-time client Overseer Krich greeted me in the center of the camp. Many years he'd been paying for my services, originally to remove some troublesome business rivals, and more recently to keep his logging operations free from bothersome issues. Now, apparently, he had something more serious in mind.
"Are you sure it's her?" I asked after he explained the situation.
"Definitely. The arrows had crimson fletching."
A sigh escaped my lips before I had the chance to stop it. "That's her, alright. Always a flair for the distinctive."
"Indeed." The overseer said with a sour look on his face. "So get in that forest and start doing what you're known for." I nodded and started to turn away, but paused as a thought occurred to me.
"Do you want me to kill her?" I asked over my shoulder.
"Kill, capture, I don't care, just get that blasted woman away from my business ventures!"
And so I entered Olsmin Forest to track down my greatest pupil, and most bitter enemy, Aylon Wildseeker.
There isn't a person on this continent who hasn't heard of me, Edercy the Tracker.
My long-time client Overseer Krich greeted me in the center of the camp. Many years he'd been paying for my services, originally to remove some troublesome business rivals, and more recently to keep his logging operations free from bothersome issues. Now, apparently, he had something more serious in mind.
"Are you sure it's her?" I asked after he explained the situation.
"Definitely. The arrows had crimson fletching."
A sigh escaped my lips before I had the chance to stop it. "That's her, alright. Always a flair for the distinctive."
"Indeed." The overseer said with a sour look on his face. "So get in that forest and start doing what you're known for." I nodded and started to turn away, but paused as a thought occurred to me.
"Do you want me to kill her?" I asked over my shoulder.
"Kill, capture, I don't care, just get that blasted woman away from my business ventures!"
And so I entered Olsmin Forest to track down my greatest pupil, and most bitter enemy, Aylon Wildseeker.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Bloodfeathers
Guardsman Aleric groaned softly as he stretched his aching shoulders. No one had ever said how sore his muscles could be after a full night on watch. Once again he thought of the bunk waiting for him in the guards' barracks, and was tempted to leave his post early. Once more Aleric stifled the thought, reminding himself sternly that a sentry had to hold his position, even if there wasn't anything to be watching for. It was the principle of the matter, after all.
But those principles didn't mean much when an arrow zipped out of the nearby treeline and sank into his chest.
"How bad is it this time?" The overseer grumbled.
"Three guardsmen killed, and the wheel-axles on ever cart have been cut through." His assistant answered nervously. His boss was not known for a calm disposition, even without being awoken just after sunrise.
"That makes this the worst of the sabotage to hit our camps. Please tell me the remaining sentries saw at least something useful."
"No, sir."
"Fine. Set workers to repairing the carts, then, and assign someone to get rid of the bodies. I'm going back to bed." Just as the overseer was turning to head for his private quarters, the assistant let out the other detail about the attack.
"Sir- The sentries. They were taken out by arrows with crimson-feathers." Seeing his boss freeze, the assistant clutched the sheets of parchment he always carried a little closed to his scrawny chest.
He was surprised, though, when the overseer responded rather calmly. "I want you to write a message to Edercy the Tracker for me, and tell him to come here." Eyes wide, the man couldn't believe what he'd just heard. The Tracker was a legend, one of the greatest mercenaries ever to stalk through the land. One didn't just casually send him a note with an order.
"Um, is there anything else you would like me to say?"
The overseer turned his head enough that his assistant could see the burning anger in his eyes. "Tell him that his star pupil has become rather protective of this forest, and I want to hire him to bring her down."
Outside of the logging camp, one of several that belonged to a company trying to destroy her home, a ranger crouched in the shadows covering a tree branch. She saw the angered overseer saying something to his over-worked assistant that sent the smaller man scurrying away.
"Soon, Eder." She whispered with a grim smile. "Soon you will pay for your treachery." With that, she leaped from the branch to another, travelling deeper in to the Olsmins Forest.
But those principles didn't mean much when an arrow zipped out of the nearby treeline and sank into his chest.
"How bad is it this time?" The overseer grumbled.
"Three guardsmen killed, and the wheel-axles on ever cart have been cut through." His assistant answered nervously. His boss was not known for a calm disposition, even without being awoken just after sunrise.
"That makes this the worst of the sabotage to hit our camps. Please tell me the remaining sentries saw at least something useful."
"No, sir."
"Fine. Set workers to repairing the carts, then, and assign someone to get rid of the bodies. I'm going back to bed." Just as the overseer was turning to head for his private quarters, the assistant let out the other detail about the attack.
"Sir- The sentries. They were taken out by arrows with crimson-feathers." Seeing his boss freeze, the assistant clutched the sheets of parchment he always carried a little closed to his scrawny chest.
He was surprised, though, when the overseer responded rather calmly. "I want you to write a message to Edercy the Tracker for me, and tell him to come here." Eyes wide, the man couldn't believe what he'd just heard. The Tracker was a legend, one of the greatest mercenaries ever to stalk through the land. One didn't just casually send him a note with an order.
"Um, is there anything else you would like me to say?"
The overseer turned his head enough that his assistant could see the burning anger in his eyes. "Tell him that his star pupil has become rather protective of this forest, and I want to hire him to bring her down."
Outside of the logging camp, one of several that belonged to a company trying to destroy her home, a ranger crouched in the shadows covering a tree branch. She saw the angered overseer saying something to his over-worked assistant that sent the smaller man scurrying away.
"Soon, Eder." She whispered with a grim smile. "Soon you will pay for your treachery." With that, she leaped from the branch to another, travelling deeper in to the Olsmins Forest.
Saturday... With Complications
Y'know that vision a lot of people have about Saturday, the one that includes sleeping in late, staying in pajamas for a while, and watching morning cartoons? Yeah... That doesn't happen with me.
Because of the farm my mom runs and the feed store she works at six days a week, she's usually left the house by sunrise each morning. As a consequence, I have to roll out of bed early enough to get myself ready for school, finish any homework from the night before, and take care of the several dozen critters kept at our house. I get some alone time in the morning, sure, but that means my internal clock has lost the ability to let me sleep in even on Saturday.
Which is just unfair. It's the one day I can afford to get a couple more hours of rest, but nooo, my body starts freaking out when I'm still in bed at 7:30. Argh.
At least it means you people get to read a non-cheerful post about my annoyances. Don't you feel lucky?
Anywho, I'm going to finish up this post, then write an opening to a story I've had vague ideas about for a while now, called Tales of Aylon Wildseeker. Heh heh heh...
Hope your Saturdays go better than mine!
-Triscribe
Because of the farm my mom runs and the feed store she works at six days a week, she's usually left the house by sunrise each morning. As a consequence, I have to roll out of bed early enough to get myself ready for school, finish any homework from the night before, and take care of the several dozen critters kept at our house. I get some alone time in the morning, sure, but that means my internal clock has lost the ability to let me sleep in even on Saturday.
Which is just unfair. It's the one day I can afford to get a couple more hours of rest, but nooo, my body starts freaking out when I'm still in bed at 7:30. Argh.
At least it means you people get to read a non-cheerful post about my annoyances. Don't you feel lucky?
Anywho, I'm going to finish up this post, then write an opening to a story I've had vague ideas about for a while now, called Tales of Aylon Wildseeker. Heh heh heh...
Hope your Saturdays go better than mine!
-Triscribe
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Bah Weep Granah Weep Ninni Bong!
If you do not understand the title reference, go watch the movie that started season 3 of the original Transformers, you heathen!
Anywho, welcome to the new blog of the Triscribe! Otherwise known as me!
...
Hm. Now I have to figure out something to muse about. Myself? Nah, too conceited.
I know! I'll role a mythical character named Tay, and I shall write about her backstory! It's genius, because bragging about someone else's achievements is better than boasting about my own, even if there are remarkable similarities between Tay and myself...
Home(s): Previous family home on Long Island, New York; current locations are Mother's house near the high school, Father's apartment on the other side of town.
Family: Above mentioned parents, aggravating maternal grandmother, less-aggravating paternal grandparents. Father's younger sister who is rarely heard from, and various distant relations barely remembered on both sides.
Friends: Assorted.
Literary Accomplishments: 2 1/2 books for a Fantasy trilogy written; extras for that project include world map, character profiles, portraits, backstories and previous adventures; 40,000 years of complex history; 3 active systems of gods; chaotic political ties and rifts; various magic systems, the inner workings of which are currently being worked out, including the formulas used by mages who no longer exist. There are several other projects in the works (genres including more high fantasy, modern fantasy, post-apocalyptic sci-fi and superheroes) all of which started as drawings, but none of the others are yet as detailed as that first one.
Scholarly Achievements:... Yeah, no, I'm gonna skip this one. Not that it's devoid of any material, but that's not something I hold in high regard for myself. Er, for Tay, that is.
Choice of Entertainment: I know what, the only question is DC or Marvel. Top choices: Bat folk of Gotham and Avengers of any incarnation. Includes the comics, T.V. shows and the latter's live action movie.
Personal Quirks: Always, always, always carry the following: Choice of reading material (anywhere from the latest issue of the X-Men to Batman and Psychology, which I get to read for a school project :), at least one notebook, and two or more sketchbooks, plus assorted writing/drawing/inking/coloring tools.
And that's as far as I'm going for now! Hopefully after this introduction, I can actually create some musings for my stories, and the RRHS Creative Writing Club which this blog will be affiliated with.
For my fellow geeks, let the Force be with you, and for the nerds, may the force equal mass times acceleration. For the rest of you, see ya'll later.
-Triscribe
Anywho, welcome to the new blog of the Triscribe! Otherwise known as me!
...
Hm. Now I have to figure out something to muse about. Myself? Nah, too conceited.
I know! I'll role a mythical character named Tay, and I shall write about her backstory! It's genius, because bragging about someone else's achievements is better than boasting about my own, even if there are remarkable similarities between Tay and myself...
Home(s): Previous family home on Long Island, New York; current locations are Mother's house near the high school, Father's apartment on the other side of town.
Family: Above mentioned parents, aggravating maternal grandmother, less-aggravating paternal grandparents. Father's younger sister who is rarely heard from, and various distant relations barely remembered on both sides.
Friends: Assorted.
Literary Accomplishments: 2 1/2 books for a Fantasy trilogy written; extras for that project include world map, character profiles, portraits, backstories and previous adventures; 40,000 years of complex history; 3 active systems of gods; chaotic political ties and rifts; various magic systems, the inner workings of which are currently being worked out, including the formulas used by mages who no longer exist. There are several other projects in the works (genres including more high fantasy, modern fantasy, post-apocalyptic sci-fi and superheroes) all of which started as drawings, but none of the others are yet as detailed as that first one.
Scholarly Achievements:... Yeah, no, I'm gonna skip this one. Not that it's devoid of any material, but that's not something I hold in high regard for myself. Er, for Tay, that is.
Choice of Entertainment: I know what, the only question is DC or Marvel. Top choices: Bat folk of Gotham and Avengers of any incarnation. Includes the comics, T.V. shows and the latter's live action movie.
Personal Quirks: Always, always, always carry the following: Choice of reading material (anywhere from the latest issue of the X-Men to Batman and Psychology, which I get to read for a school project :), at least one notebook, and two or more sketchbooks, plus assorted writing/drawing/inking/coloring tools.
And that's as far as I'm going for now! Hopefully after this introduction, I can actually create some musings for my stories, and the RRHS Creative Writing Club which this blog will be affiliated with.
For my fellow geeks, let the Force be with you, and for the nerds, may the force equal mass times acceleration. For the rest of you, see ya'll later.
-Triscribe
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)