Star I Am Not

The thing about books into movies is that it tends to ruin your imagination of what actually went on. Everyone has a different interpretation of what the scenes and characters actually look like, no matter how precisely they were described, so no book-movie could ever match to anyone's expectations.

[url]http://www.millionformarriage.org[/url] ~ Ahem. Click. [b]Now.[/b] I don't see what's wrong with gay marriages... Do people think that they aren't worthy of the rights that so-called normal marriages enjoy? Who says marriage can only pair up the opposite sex? And, even if that was its original meaning, it's not like humans haven't changed the rules before, to better themselves. It's sad to see that we're being governed by such narrow-minded people... I hope that my generation have broader views of the world than the last. Sometimes, though, looking at my high school, that hope pretty much diminishes. :(

I found the first two books in a book fair at my old school... and bought them amid teasing that I only got them for the anime covers. :whoops: They ARE pretty good, though I haven't found the third book yet. Pooh.

It's a decent start, but I'd advise you on a few things: If it's not a joke fic or some such thing (and I can tell it's not), please don't use smileys. That, and Internet shortforms: 4, r, u, ur, and so on. Paragraphs. If the paragraphs get too long it's hard to focus on the story. Space out the last paragraph a bit. Spelling and grammar. If you're not good at English, then either run it through a spellchecker, or ask someone to help proofread it. Plenty of people do this even when they're good at English - it sometimes takes more than one person to catch all the mistakes. Really, you might have got something good started here, but no one's gong to read it after a few lines as it's going now.

The Order of the Pheonix was good in the sense that it gave me a character to really, really, REALLY despise. After reading it nothing delighted me more than imagining Umbridge's very graphic death. Also, Harry is revealed not to be the perfect hero he is. In the first three books he's more or less this nice, quiet boy who rarely gets ticked (and when he's ticked, everyone knows it). Here we see his temper, full-blown. Also, OotP broke the pattern a bit. Harry's little adventure out of Hogwarts did absolutely no good except to round up a bunch of Death Eaters, and what are the odds that Voldemort won't get them back soon? He did not do anything to defeat Voldemort; he had to get saved by Dumbledore. The ministry was wrecked because of him - though it's not a loss I mourn, considering bloody @#$%&ing Fudge. And Tonks. ([i]Nymphadora![/i]) Tonks might have been rather a Mary Sue, but she is [b]cool[/b]. Same with Luna. McGonagall is fantastic. Nothing I need to say here. Then there's the debate whether Sirius really died or not... or whether he was dead before or after he hit the veil, or if he was merely Stunned. Even so, we won't be seeing him. *sniffles* The one real thing I didn't like was the ending. A bit childish, as it was a bit like the ending in PoA. My favorite book? Don't have one. Love 'em all. Well, except for the fact that Philosopher's Stone kept repeating the phrase, "rooted to the spot" at least three times. That phrase was old when my [i]mother[/i] was a kid. The movies weren't too good. The acting done by the children was rather stilted - like a school play. The lines were delivered too "deliberately", if you understand what I mean. I'll probably watch Prisoner of Azkaban only to see Snape [i](*drool*)[/i], Lupin and Sirius [i](*yet more drool*)[/i]. Regarding books into movies, it partially depends on the director and how much he understands the movie. For example, The Sandman was going to have a movie done; it had a damn good [URL=http://www.avary.com/theskinny/sandman/script-sandman7-10-96.html]script[/URL] but guess what? The man who was directing it wanted Morpheus to defeat the Corinthian by dressing up in tights and beating him up, in a manner similar to Batman. Anyone who have read the Sandman books knows Morpheus wouldn't do anything like that. Thank God the movie was never made.

I am quite frightened, and will go hide under a comforter now. That was... really intense. Graphic. Um... damn, I don't know what to say that hasn't been said. Just... great poem, Mitch. All I can say is, it's pretty damn good.

And thusly I maketh mine dramatic return... With a new story! Lyth is an original story, centering around a pantheon of five gods that I believe could be termed as "ray immortals" - They were born humans, but became immortallized into gods through various different means, similar to how a ray begins from a definite point and stretches on to infinity. Upon writing the story, I was worried the main character, Lyth, could be seen as similar to Delirium of the Endless. Well, he's not. Lyth is a mere god that will fade over time, despite his immortality. Del exists for all the time there ever was; she is, after all, one of the Endless. For another thing, Del probably stays the same gender even when she's turning into goldfish or stuff. Lyth doesn't even really switch genders. He can be both at one time, and part animal as well, and sometimes part plant. He's also almost impossible for me to draw, which is strange, as he has no fixed appearance at all, aside from childishness. Hm. If anyone would be nice enough to volunteer to draw Lyth, let me know when you're done. =) Much of this will be in Lyth's point of view, written in quite a different style than I'm used to. I was going to include childish spelling errors, such as, "hi im lyth. this is a storey tat none belives but its rael." Me being the nitpicker I am, I couldn't stand doing them. I bet no one could stand reading that, either. Lyth is pronounced "lith", not "lye-th". And, despite the genderbending, to make things simpler Lyth will be referred to as male. Leviathan and Farnible are mentioned. Yes, they ARE from Rockman Zero. In a chatroom RPG there was a party in the Realms of the Gods, and... stuff happened. That's all I'm going to say. EDIT: This story is rated PG-13. It looks pretty innocent [i]now[/i], but Lyth's journalling gets darker and darker as it goes by. ~ [i][b]Lyth[/b] by Yubi Shines[/i] ~ This is a story and it's real and it's important. No one believes it cause I always say stuff no one understands, so they think I made this up too. But I didn't. It's real but it happened a whiles ago so I don't think about it a lot. Lin told me that I should write it down when I think of it so I don't lose it so here I am. Lin is a nice person so I listen to her. Her name is long and funny like the rest of us, so I don't say it all. Like mine. My name is bigger than just Lyth but it's yucky so I don't like saying it. Lin's big name is pretty tho, like her. Lin says we're immortal and I asked her what that was. She says it means we don't die. I don't know what dying is either, and she says it's when you look like you're sleeping and you can't wake up. Sometimes I find it hard to wake up, but I don't think that's like dying. So since we're immortal we remember a lot, and that's why I don't think about the story a lot, cause there's lots more to think about. Ka says I don't remember as much as he does, because he's oldest and I guess so. Ka sometimes looks scary but he's really nice. His brother isn't tho. He looks weird lots of the time even when he's supposed to look like us, and he's mean. He says Lyth is a girly name. I don't know a lot, so I don't know why I shouldn't have a girly name. Lin says Don't bother about him no one's supposed to listen to him. So I don't. I wasn't always Lyth, but I don't remember what peoples called me then so I'll just say I'm Lyth. Back then I couldn't change a whole lot either. I couldn't go fluffy or vines whenever I wanted to. I don't remember my age. I remember I was tall enough to reach the table. I remember trying to change, trying trying I remember a mirror. I remember noise, lots of it, angry noises and hurt and wet stuff on my face and bad things are happening and I don't want to write anymore ~ The Watcher of the Woods, Lady of the Hunt, Lady of the Night Celana steps through a multitude of greenery. The clinging forest does not bother her; it is her element. She does not stop to parley with the animals that she passes, she is on an errand. She approaches a clearing, where a tall man stands. He is not attired as he usually is, in gold, scaly armor reminiscent of his bestial form, but is simple human garments. They appear too casual to be right for him, but at the same time, they fit him. Celana shakes her head, and wills away her own formal garb, changing into jeans and a T-shirt. Only her bow and arrows remain. Despite her stealthy walk, twigs snap and leaves rustle audibly. Still the man doesn't turn. He is reading something. As Celana enters the clearing, she sees it: A brightly covered, loose-leafed notebook. She clears her throat. "Ka'eruil." Ka'eruil turns, shutting the notebook. For a moment, chagrin colors his face, as if he has been caught doing something slightly embarrassing. Celana smirks. "For a god, Ka, you're not looking impressive right now. For a god in charge of time, you're not really quick on the uptake." "Bah," he mutters. "You're one to talk, Celana." Hunched over with his hands in his pockets, he could almost pass for a human, albeit a rather tall one. His eyes are a dead giveaway, though: they are bright yellow, slitted like a reptile?s. "What are you doing here? If Tauryth has been buggering up the mortal realms again, even Xolyth is equipped to deal with him." Celana grins again, the smile that Ka has learned not to entirely trust. "Ah, and fate tosses me a wonderful way to change the topic. Speaking of Xolyth, he's been brooding quite a lot lately. I saw him turn down an invitation to play with Aura, even. That's not normal." "Auraria does not lack in playmates. I have seen to that." "But Xolyth loves her, in a kiddie kind of way. Despite your daughter's, er, eating habits." Celana shudders. Auraria's "insect fixation" was shocking at first, but godlings were never expected to be normal. Her face brightens suddenly. "Speaking of your family, how's Levi?" Ka'eruil glares at her. "If you're going to ask what I know you're going to ask, I want to know something first. have I ever pestered you about your relationships with mortals?" "No," she says cheerily. "But only because I don't." "I do so very hate it when you're right." "Funny. It's usually me who ends up saying that." "Well, you don't see me going to Micalyn and asking her how her sex life is with Farnible." "Thank you, my dear dragon god, for putting such nasty images in my head." "You are welcome." A butterfly flits its random, jittery way through the clearing, landing on Ka'eruil's hair. He swats it away impatiently. Celana eyes the notebook in his hand. "Is that what I think it is?" "Possibly." Ka'eruil flips open the gaudy cover to the first page, and gives it to Celana. Se scans the page. Rollicking, sprawling writing covers it. A few moments silence while she reads the first few lines or so, and she lifts her head. "You know, this is what I was going to talk to you about." "Ah?" "Xolyth. My esteemed sister apparently has been talking to him again. He's being a him these days, by the way. Not female, or genderqueer. Is this what's gotten into him? Thinking about his old life?" "It would appear so." Ka'eruil slips back into the role of walking (or, sometimes, flying) enigma, as he was expected to appear when speaking to his followers. He hardly ever speaks this way when in his own world, though, and that worries Celana. "Why now, for goodness' sake? Is it because of that last visit Throdeth paid us?" "It might be. My brother is not a good influence to young minds. Xolyth doubly so." He frowns, shadowing his bright eyes. "But Xolyth knows to avoid him, even if he doesn't know why." "Hmm." Celana looks back at the book, reading, and raises an eyebrow. "How did you get this?" "You forget, Celana, I am the master of this realm, and I have access to everything here. I do not exercise this power often." "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she mumbles. "I wish you'd stop talking like one of those pretentious shadowy mystery people mortal writers tend to overdo. It's annoying." "I do have an image to uphold." "An image that, I fear, doesn't extend to your fellow gods." Celana gestures to the book. "Did you see what he wrote about you?" "It's always nice to know the fear I instill in my colleagues." Ka'eruil's wild golden hair hangs over his watchful eyes, but they are still clearly seen, looking out at the world. It sharply contrasts Celana's hair, long and black and tied back in a simple ponytail. Her eyes are not hidden behind a veil of hair, but clear and bright, like twin emeralds. Presently, they are glaring at the draconic god, though not with dislike. "So... What are you going to do about this?" He shrugs, and the movement seems to trigger something - for a moment, his clothes take on the appearance of his gold and silver finery. "It will not hurt Xolyth to remember. Let him be for now. We will wait." "So you'll let him continue believing we all think he's lying, and go on remembering those jerks that he-" Ka'eruil raises a hand, silencing her. "We will wait." ~ Hi. Um. I didn't want to write any more, but Lin said that it was important that I wrote it down. Things happen she said. I might not be able to remember and remembering something bad is better that not having anything to remember at all. I guess so. Lin is a good person and she's smart too so I listen. Her sister is called Lana and she's kind of angry sometimes but she's okay too. She spends her time in the forest with wolves and animals like that, so when she goes I don't go with her. The wolves don't hurt me but I'm usually with Aura and they can hurt her. At least that's what her mom says. Aura's dad is Ka and he's really important, so I don't know why the wolves would hurt her. Lana says the wolves can be a bad influence. I don't know what she means but I know it's something bad so I stay away. The things I remember are bad things too. But I have to remember, cause other people don't have anything to remember. I went to a scary place once and this girl couldn't remember lots of stuff. She was always sad cause she couldn't remember if she said goodbye to this person she knew. I didn't understand that part much. I couldn't make her smile at all tho, so it must have been bad. My hair used to be sandy, like that powder stuff in beaches. Beaches are nice. I remember going there collecting shiny rocks that Andy called sea glass. Andy was a friend of mine. She wasn't a boy, but she said used a boy's name cause it sounded better than her own name. That's why I don't call people by their big names. My mom had sandy hair too. I think. It was sandy. Then the colors drained out and it turned grey then white. My mom was sad lots of the time. Angry too. Not like the way Lana gets angry. When Lana's angry she says odd things and stomps around while everyone laughs. When mom got angry no one laughed. Then she went sad and went to her room. I could hear noises she made in there and I wanted to tell her it was all okay but she shut the door and I couldn't open it. Andy said not to worry about her. Grownups are stronger than us she said. They can handle stuff we can't. She's right. If I had been grownup I think I wouldn't have hurt so much. Mom always got angry then sad when my dad was around. My dad wasn't like Aura's dad. He wasn't nice and he wasn't around a lot. His hair wasn't sunyellow, but brown. Like the wet stuff in the ground that makes things dirty. Dad was always dirty like that and when I saw him he smelled bad too, a bit like a bathroom and that place in the kitchen where lots of bottles were kept and like the place where the things get thrown out. I went to that place once. A lot of my stuff was thrown out and I wanted to take them back before someone else did. It smelled so bad I wanted to run away cause it was so much like dad's smell but I got my stuff and gave them to Andy. She said she'd clean them and hide them. I trust Andy. The stuff was hidden near the beach with my sea glass and Andy's sea shells. It was in a little cave that was nearly blocked by a big rock but little people like us could go in and grownups couldn't. That's why it was safe. We'd go there sometimes to talk, but I usually read my books and played with the sea glass and my toys. Andy went for walks mostly after sitting there for a whiles. I remember hearing the big ocean go swish-swish over the beach and the wind coming in the cave whizzing around. It was cold and wet sometimes. But it wasn't bad. ~ [i]Mortal visitations to the godly realms are really quite frequent, contrary to one's expectations. However, few of them stay for long, and even fewer remember their travels. If they do, it is only as one would remember a dream. The ones who remember often go mad. Very rarely is there a human - or any other living creature - that can perceive and understand a realm beyond their imagining. It would be as if a square, a two-dimensional being attempted to imagine and explain a three-dimensional world. That is how Earth looks like to gods: flat, not altogether real. Even the gods who were once humans have difficulty coping with their changes in perception. Eventually, though, aided with the powers of adaptation most humans have, they can ignore the residues and trails and auras that are seldom visible to mortal beings. These images, if seen, usually only appear to humans in times of urgency or crisis.[/i] ... The boy paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Damn. This was more difficult than he thought. Who knew typing up articles for a silly role-playing game was so hard? Blake stared at the word processing program he had opened, which showed the two paragraphs he had painstakingly typed up in the past half-hour or so. He needed a break, and badly. Like a voice from the heavens, a flashing taskbar button popped up on the monitor. Relieved to have an excuse to quit working for a while, he opened it. [b]~Miyka'el~: Hi. How are ya?[/b] Ah, Miranda. Signed on one of her many screennames, with names taken from the obscurest of places. She would then insist everyone call her by that name. She also seemed to revel in using masculine names spelled in a feminine-appearing way, just to confuse everyone. He couldn't really blame her. he expected he would act the same way, if her was unfortunate enough to be christened Miranda. Another of her quirks was her obsession with perfect English on the Internet. She could and would rant about the bastardization the Queen's English for hours on end - to which everyone would either start speaking in Engrish or Shakespearean English. [b]eScape-aRtist: hm. not bad. eScape-aRtist: writer's block hast gotten to me, alas. ~Miyka'el~: Aw. Pooor Blaaake. =( eScape-aRtist: >P ~Miyka'el~: =O eScape-aRtist: >=D eScape-aRtist: SMILEY BATTLE! ~Miyka'el~: LOL eScape-aRtist: heheh eScape-aRtist: seriously, randa. got any ideas?[/b] Blake smirked. Miranda absolutely loathed it when anyone called her something connected to her "real" name. (Unless, of course, if was connected to in an extremely convoluted manner; e.g., Miranda = Mira = Miracle = Kiseki in Japanese) Anyone who knew her for more than five minutes learned this. Oddly, this time she didn't turn into a psychotic madwoman and set fire to him. [b]~Miyka'el~: Mmm. Depends. ~Miyka'el~: What do you need? eScape-aRtist: well, i'm designing one of those role-playing games ~Miyka'el~: Uh huh? eScape-aRtist: basically it's about, like, fantasy people, fay eScape-aRtist: not like fluffy supermodel fairies though ~Miyka'el~: Heh, supermodel fairies. eScape-aRtist: like the old ones who were mean and spiky and ugly eScape-aRtist: well, and gods and stuff eScape-aRtist: and they're visiting earth for all kinds of reasons eScape-aRtist: and they're messing things up and stuff eScape-aRtist: only i've hit a block in describing it for my webpage. ~Miyka'el~: Interesting... ~Miyka'el~: Where did you stop? eScape-aRtist: uhm.. eScape-aRtist: it talks a bit about the gods that turned into immortals eScape-aRtist: being able to adapt to earth eScape-aRtist: "They can ignore the residues and trails and auras that are seldom visible to mortal beings. These images, if seen, usually only appear to humans in times of urgency or crisis" ~Miyka'el~: ... ~Miyka'el~: Sorry, Blake. ~Miyka'el~: Nothing here. eScape-aRtist: aw damnit eScape-aRtist: thanx anyway. ~Miyka'el~: You're welcome. ~Miyka'el~: Uh oh. I'm late for an appointment. ~Miyka'el~: Be seeing ya. eScape-aRtist: alright. cya. ~Miyka'el~: And... by the way... ~Miyka'el~: *splashes lighter fluid and a flaming match at you* ~Miyka'el~: DON'T CALL ME RANDA[/b] [i]~Miyka'el~ signed off at 5:54 PM.[/i] Blake laughed. Miranda - or Miyka'el as she would demand to be addressed by for the following month or so - was being normal. That was good. She was starting to scare him for a moment. Cheered, he closed the chat window and went back to- -the RPG article. He sighed. What he would give for any good ideas right then... [i]As stated, the sands that litter the ethereal lands have not been, by all means, unsullied by a human's touch. But Earth? The world of Mundanes? As it would not be easy for a cube to hide in a square's world, a being that sees the very threads of destiny netting all matter together could not be expected to pass for the comparatively blind creatures of this world. But that may be where I am wrong. After all, light passing through the world of the square could not light up the otherworldly parts of the cube. The square could only be allowed to see what he could see, nothing else. The light only passes in two directions - left, right, forward, backward. It cannot go up or down. Likewise, our three-dimensional light will not pass into that other direction. What it is, I cannot know, for there is no way I can point to where light does not shine. But, I must ask, how could we identify a god if we could not identify precisely what makes him a god? Could it be that, wherever we walk, we could pass sidhe, elves, orcs, faeries, gods, and maybe even the entities that came before gods without knowing it? Does the stuff of myth and legend walk our land too, but we just do not, cannot see? The only ones who can answer are the legends themselves, and I do not believe they would be hasty in their reply.[/i] He blinked, and stared at his hands, much in the way one does in a blood&guts movie after one kills a man for the first time. Now, where did all that come from? ~ I went for a walks yesterday and the day before that one so I didn't do any writing. Why isn't there a word for that? I don't know a lot but I asked and no one says anything about a word for the day before the day before this one. Our home is really big and there's lots of neat stuff to see even if you were like Ka and had been there for long long times, so it's nice for walks. It's always changing, like the sky could be blue one day and the next it could have little lines and circles and all loopy-woogy and then it could all go rainbows and things. Lin says things like that only happen in my part of the realm, that in the other parts things don't change that much. I wonder why. Don't the other parts like changing? I wanted to ask, but I couldn't find Lin. She's busy lots of the time I guess. I couldn't find Andy once. I went everywhere I knew but she wasn't there. I lived in a little house near the beach. Andy didn't have any house. I don't know why. But she was always there waiting whenever I went to the cave, so she must make a house in there. The cave is as big as the closet in my house but I guess houses can be any size you want. I once went to a big noisy place where there was all these things put where you could see, and if you gave some people paper and clinky things you could take some of the things you saw with you. Andy explained it, I think but I didn't really understand. In one place I saw a really really small house, and there was little peoples who could live in it. So I know houses can be anything. Andy wasn't in her house. She wasn't at the beach or around my house or in the trees place. It was getting dark and I was getting scared, because when it got too dark the bad things come and you can't see and all the monsters wake up and come after you and you have to run or they get you and the cave wasn't good anymore cause all the dark and black things come in there and they can get you and sometimes if I got back to my house I couldn't get in, I could yell and pull the door but it wouldn't go and no one would listen and it could get so cold. But I had to find Andy. it was so cold. Rain was falling and I was hungry and she was nowhere. where was she? I don't remember what happened, something I don't know. I saw a lots of people that night. This man had the same smell as dad had but not as bad, he kept talking weird stuff like I talk weird stuff but it wasn't good things. and there were these people that wore grownup clothes but they didn't really look like grownups and I asked them where Andy was and they kicked me when I talked to them and they hurt me. I remember something tho. This kid I saw. he didn't feel like a kid tho, he talked grownup and he looked kind of funny. but he said Follow me Lyth so I did. I don't know where we went but it didn't feel like we walked a lots. then we went to this little place that smelled kind of bad and the kid said Your friend is here. So I looked and Andy was sleeping behind these boxes and things and she looked hurt. I wanted to stay there, but I didn't know where we were and I asked the kid, and he said to look around. And I saw we were in the cave, and a light was in there so it didn't have dark things. but I saw again it wasn't light, it was sun. it was morning. and the boxes were our stuff. I felt kind of weird then and I thought the kid might want something back so I asked, but he was gone already. I wonder who he was, but that din't matter because Andy was okay. ~ Throdeth surveys his lands. It is one place in this godly realm that one would suppose humans would be most comfortable it - if one was a person shallow or mad enough to see this joyless place reminscient of Earth. It resembles a typical futuristic setting, where everything is ordered so meticulously one wonders if the very number of molecules in each object is regulated. Which, if what is known of Throdeth is to be believed, may well be the case. In his human form, he stands on a balcony, silently overseeing the bleakness below. No railings secure it. What need has a god have for such flimsy safety barriers, when he is in his own world? Far away beneath Throdeth, creatures go about their business, stepping noiselessly through a souless world. Visitors to this city sometimes think that these pitiful people are mindless zombies. That is not completely true. Some of them are Throdeth's servants, who might be devoid of free will in their loyalty to him. But many are people, passed on from the mortal plane. This city is a little slice of Hell. Here, the torture is not in eternal fires or ravaging demons, nor rains of boiling blood or graphic, endless torment. Here, the souls of men are more alone than the most isolated prisoner on Earth. Here is the graveyard for men who strived to stand out by ruining others, who challenged divinity to send them to Hell, if they dared. Here are the ones arrogant enough to imagine themselves as gods, or greater beings; they tried to control lives and minds and sent those lives to die needlessly. Here, their pain comes from forever being a mere speck of nothing, and knowing it. They are conditioned to go through a structured, ordered life with little to no deviations, as they did to others in life. Though his domain is used in such a way, Throdeth derives no enjoyment in their pain. One might say he goes through worse than any of the men he is responsible for. For he is set far apart from his godly family; he deals with the lords of Hell while his brother deals with Heaven's angels. Even while all of the gods are, in a way, feared by mortals (and for good reason), he is the only one whose job is in hurting them. A gentle wind tugs at his somber grey hair. From that, he already knows. Nothing can happen in his land without his consent. Without a word, he turns. The winds pick up, and spin into a minor whirlwind. It spins about itself for a second, then the winds begin to take a humanoid form that ripples and shines like a rushing river. The form takes on greater and greater detail, then swiftly solidifies into the appearance of the Healer, the one of Winds and Waters, Micalyn. He inclines his head slightly. "I greet you, cousin." Throdeth is ceaselessly polite, courteous. Micalyn nods as well, ruffling her pastel hair that floats around, as if she were underwater. "To you as well, Throdeth. I don't have all the time in the worlds, so let's skip the formalities." Silence. If Throdeth's eyeless gaze unsettles the goddess, she does not show it. "If I remember aright, you control intelligence, innovativity, astuteness; am I right?" A nod. "And, according with that, you aid in judgement over those who are led by sins and break the commandments, and you test each and every mortal I bring into being if they can be tempted into following the sins, if they can display strength worthy of Heaven." Nod. "So, here is the reason I visit you: What test did you do unto Xolyth when he was still a human child?" At last, he speaks, emotionless, accentless. "Such things are not for you to know, my cousin. You are only meant to know the test that you went through, and that information is oft information enough." A wince crosses Micalyn's visage. The ordeal she went through as a mortal girl still stings. The scars have been slow to heal, the memories persistent in staying. And it is the same for the one she shared the ordeal with. But her resolve is firm. "If that is so, Xolyth has a right to know what he has been put through. And why." "He will find out for himself, cousin. Your inteference, as well-meant it is, will not aid him. Do you not know the human saying?" "Of course. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. That doesn't matter. Xolyth is struggling to remember. He's spent years not remembering, but some form of catharsis is occuring now. Why, I don't know. But he's going to go mad if we just leave him alone. He needs my help." Silence. Micalyn waits, but then Throdeth walks off the edge of the balcony, and vanishes. She sighs, shakes her head, and vanishes in a spray of seafoam. ~

I believe it's real. You hear all those stories about twins being able to communicate with each other when they're miles apart, or two people sharing a dream and communicating to each other in the dream, or people correctly foreseeing the future (sometimes multiple times). There has to be a shred of truth in some of these stories. Just because most of not all of the psychics who make themselves known are frauds, that doesn't mean ALL of them are faking it. In fact, I think the real psychics would probably want to keep quiet about their abilities, for fear of getting called a lying cheat. I like to think of psi powers as magic, though. Not magic as in sparklie stars and magic missiles, but as in using the mind to make something [i]happen[/i], just like that. *snaps fingers* *lightbulb explodes* See?

Earlier this year, I went to Wonderland in Canada (best. field trip. ever.) and the first thing my friend and I went to was the Drop Zone. No other ride in Wonderland scared the crap out of me more. Which is why I'm going on it again the next time I'm going there.

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by (<AA>) [/i] [B]Star... are you a girl, or a guy? Anyway, I'm definatley getting a tattoo, but It'll be something small(or medium) on one of my shoulders. Piercings... nope. [/B][/QUOTE] Girl. Some people I know may say different, though. :freak:

Maverick? Yes, you could say that. I'm more of a mishmash of lots of the usual sterotypes... goths, nerds, computer geek, that weird quiet kid in the middle row, the person who sits alone at lunch and refuses to let someone sit next to her on the bus... I will never never be the preppie or the popular, though. Unless it somehow becomes "cool" to be overweight, have short floofy black hair, never talk and think faded black jeans go with everything. EDIT: General classification of the people in my school: Smart Girls. That about sums them up. These are the handful of girls who appear on the honor roll without fail, are perfectly groomed, volunteer for everything and all the rest. They excel in EVERYTHING. I jest you not. Name the subject, and she's gotten all A's in it. These are also the nicest people in the school. Pretty Airheads. Not necessarily blonde, and they aren't all idiots, academics-wise. They walk around in cliques, keep at least three kinds of lip gloss around with them at ALL times, and are popular. They can be nicefriendlynice or complete jerks. It depends. Sk4t3r b0iz. Ugh. Trash-talkers, punks, troublemakers, the guys who showed up on the grade 8 graduation day with a mohican and pants so baggy they might as well have been giant diapers. No, the knowledge of what kind of patterned boxers you're wearing today is not knowledge that I want or need, thankyouverymuch. Weird Guys. The wannabe sk4t3r b0iz. These fellows are usually perverts. And break out the hair gel! Some of these people's hair remind me of Sonic the Hedgehog on a bad spike day. They swear like crazy and cause some mayhem, but not as much as the sk4t3r b0iz. It's strange, though, how these guys can be pretty neat people to talk to. That sets them apart as well, I guess. Those People Over There. The okay people. Not particularly idiotic or skilled in obvious ways. Nice people, generally. They still travel in packs. And then there's people like me, who don't fit anywhere else. No real classification for us. We can be smart, or punky, or friendly, but only to an extent. (There aren't a lot of geeky nerdy kids in my school, come to think of it.) The thing distinguishing us from Those Peole Over There is that we're "weird" is some way or other, and we aren't "normal". Usually these misfits form their own packs so they can have the social status of actual belonging somewhere. Then there's the few who wander around aimlessly during recess and lunch, alone. That's about it. :whoops:

[img]http://www.cherden.com/star/sy_dtmw.jpg[/img] That should give you some insight on what I feel on the subject.

I find the idea of gouging holes in your ears so you can stick bits of metal through the holes so you can look pretty rather... uhm... odd. Besides, I'm a wimp. Even if it "doesn't hurt a lot" like everyone says, I'm still not piercing my ears. Or anything else. So there. Tattoo'ing... I may get that one day. It'll have to be small, though. Or maybe I'll just settle with dying my skin with henna.

The age someone can be in a relationship depends on the person. A thirty year old could handle a relationship with less finesse than a fifteen year old. Some twelve year olds could maybe handle relationships... the question of him or her finding a partner depends, of course, if his or her peers are as mature as him/her. I'm fourteen, the age where lots of kids start dating, and I doubt I could handle it. Once someone hinted to me a guy I chat with on IRC "liked" me. My reaction was akin to that a bunnyrabbit gets when she sees a hawk diving at her about to tear her guts out. I can just see myself in two years having a heart attack when the guy next to me in the car looks like he just [i]might[/i] be leaning towards me. Relationships don't need to include snogging and sex - there are other ways of showing affection to a partner. I'm not expert on the matter, but I know that much. Dating someone for the sole reason of getting into their pants is, well, stupid. Unfortunately, for some guys that's the sole reason they go out with girls at all. Hook up with the hot chick, and the next morning, make up all sorts of wild stories to tell the other guys. Follow the rule that applies to everything: Don't do anything just because everyone else is doing it. Date when you're ready and you seriously feel you could handle a break-up (which, sadly, is almost inevitable) or if your partner stabs you in the back, or other uglynasty stuff. Also, don't you dare break up with anyone just because they're not "cool", or I'll be forced to kill you. darkside, if she broke up with you after ONE day, chances are, she's not worth chasing. Move on.

I've had little moments, usually when staring out the window in the car, when I feel detached from myself, like another version of Star is using this Star's eyes to look at the world outside. And I wonder whether this is all real?... I usually end up scaring the crap out of myself in those moments.

Pet Peeve #1: People who think you should dress or act or speak this way just because you're at a certain age, or look a certain way, or if you're just a certain gender. The teen years aren't necessarily the times when you're rebellious, and when you hit twenty-one you don't instantly "grow out" of your teen-self. Girls don't have to have long hair or wear bright clothes. People who wear black aren't always goths. I could work this into a full-scale rant, but not here. Pet Peeve #2: People who poke fun at things or people, when they don't understand the thing or person fully. This means I get pissed at lots of people. Pet Peeve #3: Conformity. It's everywhere.

Plenty of odd stuff has happened, but I probably can't remember them all. Would- ah, now I remember one. I'll quote from my blog, to have an idea what happened: [quote]Ok, yesterday was just plain ODD. First. Art class. It went okay, we got the lettering of the OMGHUGEBIGASS inspirational poster done. At last. Except Brett and Kyle kept making lots of sludgey green muck with the paint and smearing it EVERYWHERE. and Justin coudn't mind his own ******* business and kept annoying my group. -_- The sole thing I'm not forgetting is that, when I changed the water for our paint, when I sat down and started paintig over the lettering witha fresh blue coat, I PICKED UP THE CUP AND DRANK FROM IT. Yes, the cup we were using to wash our paintbrushes with. THANK GOD it was clean.[/quote] :sick: Unless, of course, you mean this silly conversation between me and a friend, while playing a MMORPG: Me: SWEET! NEKO BAND! Friend: Yay. You know, I have tons of those in storage. Me: Yeah, I know. Friend: ....What DON'T you know? Me: Uhh... I dunno. Friend: XD

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by James [/i] [B][color=#707875]Welcome to the boards, Kal. Same to Star I Am Not. These are the kinds of "newbies" that should be encouraged at OB. I don't know how long either of you will stick around in the longterm, but I think you are both examples of "newbies" who don't poszt lik diz.[/color] [/B][/QUOTE] Why, thank you! ^^

I remember catching myself feeling surprised once, when on another board a guy who had about five posts to his name wrote something pretty intelligent in some discussion or other. :o Newbies are new people who don't know things that are taken for granted in the forums they've registered in. They may not know things like how to insert smilies into posts, but some of them are completely new to message boards and need help. (When I went to a forum for the first time, I had no idea what the heck "lol" was and why everyone used it like it was an actual word, but I was too embarassed to ask.) The idiot people who spam, flame, make crude remarks, hurt people's feelings and just don't [i]listen[/i] to advice, they're what I call lamers. They could have been in the forums since the day they opened, have billions of posts, gone through them with every server change and whatnot, but if they act the donkey, they're a lamer.

Odd... but neat. :freak: Nice job.

I forgot the URL for OB a few days ago, and I was on my brother's computer, which doesn't have OB bookmarked. I got to THREE different message boards before landing here. Otakuforum.com, Otakuforums.com and Otakuboard.com. x_x; Oi...

I'm scared poopless of the dark... Which is funny, because every night I sleep in pitch-blackness. (Turn the night-light off = saves energy!:angel: ) But when I'm up really late and I'm eirhter looking out the window into the backyard... or going upstairs and looking downstairs, where all the lights are turned off... and I remember a show I saw once on ghosts where a family would see eyes glowing in the darkness... and I feel SURE something's going to start staring at me with those red eyes... and I run to my room to cower. *wibbles*

"Village Idiot". Okay, maybe not... But I haven't been here long enough to know what my title would be.

Everything scares me. Horror stories scare me. Crazy late-night movies scare me (some of the worst ones haunt me). The weirdass pictures people on IRC show me (such as a picture where a fluffy white cat had a very ugly human face) scare the poopie out of me. Even Goosebumps scare me... Well, they used to. But it's still embarassing. Damn, it's easy to scare me. I just realised that.

I never know what to say when things like this happen, and especially now... but for what it's worth, Deb, I'm sorry. :bawl: