The Red Shoes and The Raven

A project I'm working on. I was reading Edgar Allan Poe's poem, "The Raven" (which is featured in the story), and re-watching the anime Princess Tutu, and then I started looking up old fairy tales and stuff and this was born~. I'm only posting this little part. The rest is staying secret because if my brain can spew up enough random story material for this, it'll become a book. So probably not, but we can always hope :D Anyway, here you go. The stanza of "The Raven" in this part of the story is the final stanza of the poem.
_________________________________________________________________________

“And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting,

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted – nevermore!”

-          Edgar Allan Poe, “The Raven”

***

Quietly, Annabelle closed her book of poetry.  The movements in the other rooms of the dormitory had long since died down.  It was almost midnight, now.  Soon Annabelle would be required to snuff out her candle.  A teacher, or a willing honor student, would make a quick round through the hallways of both the boys’ and girls’ dormitories.  If they spotted light coming from under your door, they would enter and ask what was going on.  If you had accidently fallen asleep, or were doing homework, they usually let you off the hook, but Annabelle had been found too many times doing both.  Next time, she had been warned, she wouldn’t be so lucky.  And Annabelle was not one to push her luck.

Even so, Annabelle couldn’t help the thrill of fear she felt in her heart when she glanced at the dark corners of her room.  The flickering candle, though flooding her small corner of the room with light, made the shadows deeper and more threatening.  During her reading of the haunting poem, the young girl had felt an unexplainable feeling of dread, growing with each stanza.  Biting her tongue, Annabelle’s eyes darted to the clock hanging on the wall.  Five minutes to midnight.  Should she risk it?  Maybe if she just set up some books around the candle, and took them down when the patroller had passed-

No. Annabelle shook her head.  Just as she was not one to push her luck, neither was she one to put books in danger.

Sliding her poetry book into her school bag, Annabelle pulled off her uniform and slipped into her pajamas – an oversized maroon sweatshirt and white shorts.  She pulled her thick dark hair out of her face, gently blew out her candle, and clambered in to bed, just as the clock tower struck twelve.

Holly Quill - Bio

NAME: Holly Quill

AGE: 15.

GENDER: Female

HAIR: Medium brown in color, softly tousled. Goes to the middle of her upper arm. Bangs flip up at the ends and go to the side a bit.

EYES: A dark, forest green, surrounded by thick eyelashes. Her eyes are large and almond-shaped.

HEIGHT: 5 foot, 5 inches.

WEIGHT: Normal.

PERSONALITY: Holly is carefree and silly. She is kind of weird, and likes to point out the obvious. She also gets flustered easily. However, Holly is also deadly smart and a good fighter.

WEARS: Usually, she wears navy skinny jeans, a bright orange tank top, a dark gray sweatshirt, and yellow high-top Converse. Sometimes she adds a green plaid scarf.

NATIONALITY AND ACCENT: Mostly Norwegian, and a little Spanish, with an Alaskan-American accent.

HISTORY: Holly grew up in Alaska, in a non-magical family. She discovered magic at a fairly young age, but had no one to teach her how to use it. The highlight of her life in Alaska was getting chased across town in her bathrobe and slippers by a moose when she was ten. The same year, her mother and father sent her to live with her aunt in Ireland. Her aunt, Sharon Forest, was an Elemental and taught Holly. Sharon – after finding out how quickly her niece picked up on things - deemed it unnecessary for Holly to go to an actual school, and instead taught Holly herself. So Holly’s education from that point on consisted of everything from normal school courses, to tap-dancing, to how to jump out of the window of a moving car. Holly – being only 15 – still lives with her aunt, but goes out on her own adventures as well.

FAMILY: Holly’s aunt is Sharon Forest. Her parents are still alive, but Holly never goes to visit them, and is exceedingly awkward when they visit her. She also has a little sister, but doesn’t like to talk about or to her.

POWERS: Elemental.

FAVORITE WEAPONS: Whatever is on hand at the moment.

OTHER SKILLS: Art and being a source of amusement for her friends.

FRIENDS: Quinnera Elviana, Kallista Pendragon, Lucky Jack.

ENEMY'S: The moose that chased her when she was ten, and anyone who annoys her.

HATES: Being referred to as “Girly” or “Little girl”, and spiders.

LIKES: Chocolate, running around, video games, singing, apples, books, chairs, old houses, snakes, drawing, anime, finger painting, and face painting.

ADDRESS: Classified, for safety purposes.

JOB: Sometimes works for the Sanctuary.

MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: Her aunt drives her places sometimes, but other than that, she walks.

NEVER SEEN WITHOUT: Shoes and shirt, so she can get service. Oh, pants too.

DESCRIPTION: Holly is skinny and pale, but not so much of either that it looks unhealthy. She is also somewhat pretty.


________________________________________________________


OK, I don't know why it's all highlighted like this, but it's not letting me fix it, so let's just ignore that little fact there. But if you want to be her friend, let me know and I'll add you.

YO

HIYA!


I'm back :D

Big News

I just found out last night that Wi-Fi was set up where we go in Canada. So I can still post! I'm not going to post regularly (not that I do anyway), but I might post a few pieces of writing or something while I'm up there.

.....

.....

If the small children let me go, that is.

Bye~

Okay. Lord Voldemort is after me. Dumbledore said I should lie low for three or so weeks while they figure out how to deal with the Death Eaters. So I, erm, "borrowed" Harry's invisibility cloak. They can track me through the internet, so I can't use it. See you in three weeks, everyone~
...........
...........
...........
...........
...........
And THAT, my good friends, is how you know that I've been reading way too much Harry Potter.

But I really am leaving for three weeks.

You see, I'm going on vacation to Canada. I can't tell you exactly where, but it's somewhere in Quebec. Somewhere.

I don't exactly know where.

But we don't have internet access up there. Well, technically we have a dial-up connection, but I don't really count that as internet considering that it's slower than a snail wading through molasses.

I'm really going to miss you guys. And I just KNOW that I'm going to miss some huge important event here on Blogland. And then there's going to be posts to catch up on.......

Stupid dial-up.

Ah well, it can't be helped. I'll still be able to write, though, and that's good. That's very good.....

And I don't think it'll be as hot up there as it is here, thank God.

But I'll miss my cats.

But still. I'm really excited for this trip. I'll take pictures.

Anyway. I won't actually be leaving until the morning of this Saturday, July 23. But I'm posting this now, in case I don't have time tomorrow during the packing frenzy. And I'll be back August 13th or 14th. Somewhere around that time.

So, bye all! I'll see you lot in three weeks. I expect a report of what I missed when I return!

*salutes*

Dream Guardians Part 14

Well, this took so much longer than it needed to. But now it's done and posted, before I go on vacation, so it's all good, even if it's poorly written. Also, I thought I'd say...OC Soot Featherwing's name was inspired by one of my Shugo Chara's, who I named Soot. Who happens to have hatched from an egg with a feather on it. But that's where the similarities end, because they don't look alike...or act alike...or....yeah.


The word count on the story part of this post is 666. Should I be worried?
_____________________________________________________________________

“Come on, woman!” Erza shouted at Holo.  “Left, left!  Left, right, left!  Move it!  It’s just stairs!”

Holo was sprawled on the landing below Erza, gasping for breath.  “I…can’t…move.  Go on without meeee!” she wailed dramatically.

Erza twitched.  “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO DRAGGED ME OUT OF BED AT THIS TIME, GOSH DARNIT!”  With that, Erza sprinted back down the stairs, grabbed Holo’s ankles, and dragged her up the stairs.

Holo screamed.  “Okay! OKAY!  I can walk!  Lemme go!”

The two continued on in silence for a while.  Finally, they reached the door that would lead them to the roof.

“So…” Holo started, glanced at Erza.

Erza scowled, and pushed her friend forward.  “You first!”

“No way!”

After much grumbling and shoving, Erza and Holo ended up both squeezing through the door at the same time.  Erza tripped over Holo’s shoelace, though, and the two of them ended up sprawled on the hard concrete of the roof.

“I thought I told Shana to come alone.”  The two girls scrambled to their feet, looking around for the source of the voice.

Mei stepped out of the shadows, holding an empty can of sleeping gas, and smirked.  “Oh well.”

Erza gasped and pointed.  Holo’s eyes followed the direction of her finger.  There, lying in a crumpled heap on the roof, was Shana.  Rage began to bubble up in Holo, but it was stopped by a tug in her gut.

A very, very familiar tug in her gut.

While Mei was ranting about how she had them now, Holo sneaked a glance at Erza.  Erza caught her eye, and Holo knew that she had felt it too:

The charas were coming back.

“Oh my God…” Holo breathed.  Mei whirled around to face her.

“What did you say?” she snapped.

Erza butted in.  “Holo said ‘You are God’,” Erza chirped innocently.  Holo struggled to keep in her giggles.  It didn’t work.

Mei narrowed her eyes.  “I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you, Pikachu-Wolf-Girl,” she snarled, making a very uncalled for jab at Holo’s PJ’s.  Doru floated up next to her.  “Unlock-” Mei started to say the incantation to character transform.

She didn’t get very far, though, as Holo tackled Mei almost as soon as she started speaking.  Erza dashed across the roof, and hauled Shana nearer to Holo.

Mei managed to throw Holo off of her and stood up, glaring daggers.  Holo scrambled over to Erza and helped her support Shana.  Mei stalked toward them, and the trio backed up (well, Holo and Erza shuffled awkwardly backwards, seeing as Shana was still asleep).  Their enemy raised her fist as to hit them.  Erza and Holo managed to scramble around, so as to be able to move forward.

But that didn’t go over well, seeing as they had reached the edge of the roof.

“Oh no,” Erza had time to choke out, just as Shana’s eyes flew open, and Mei pushed them off the roof.

The three girls screamed as they plummeted to the concrete below.

Holo was thinking about her funeral when there was a small “pop”.  And then a small, chibi girl was floating in front of Holo’s face as she fell.

Her red eye nearly bugged out of her head.  “Oh my freaking God,” Holo gasped.  “SOOT!”

Soot the chara grinned.  “Hello, deary!  Long time no see!”

Mouth wide, Holo glanced over at her falling friends.  Shana’s chara Micky was floating in front of her.  In Erza’s face was Dorothy.

Holo gulped and looked at the approaching ground.  “So, Soot, how’re we gonna get out of this one?  ‘Cause I don’t feel like going splat today and-”

Holo stopped speaking and stared harder at the ground.  Small figures of people seemed to be approaching, and one of them seemed to have pink hair.  There also happened to be a big, fluffy, brown dog standing almost directly below them, barking extremely loudly.  And Soot kept glancing at the dog and people, then back at Holo, wearing a Cheshire grin.

____________________________________________________________________

OH YEAH! MAR, MIR! PROFESSOR WALNUT, THE FLUFFY, LOYAL, LUMP OF A BEAR OF A DOG IS BACK!

Crown To Eye Patch

I wrote the poem part of this first then added the story, so this story is not literal. It has another meaning. I don't think I can really explain it. But I hope you enjoy this nonetheless.
__________________________________________________________________________

“Two shining guns

Side by side

Crown to eye patch

Aimed to the very heart of the other”

The metal reflected the cold light of the setting sun.  The landscape, once beautiful, was no more.  The grass on the rolling hills was brown and dead.  The sky was clouded and smoggy with pollution.  The air had a bitter taste.

It was all so perfect for the scene taking place.

Royalty against bandit.  Tyrant against thief.  King against pirate.  Crown against eye patch.

“Broken beyond repair

The cruel tyrant king

Opens the Gates of Death

To all in his kingdom”

His once-elegant robes were tattered and torn, his magnificent crown askew.  The soul of the king was darker than even the most clouded, moonless night.  A mask of kindness is still a mask.  Fake generosity is still fake.  He was caring in the eyes of an outsider.  He was cruel in the eyes of a subject.

“Shattered under the weight of life

The notorious pirate thief

Dances with Death                   

And laughs in his own crooked way”

Around his shoulders lay the threadbare flag of his ship.  The pirate proudly wore his skull-and-crossbones flag, even in the face of death.  One of his eyes was covered by a black eye patch.  In the eyes of everyone, he was not the poor man who had been cruelly rejected by society in his youth.  He was a pirate, a thief.  Nothing else.

They aimed the guns at each other.  Both were determined to be the last one alive.

“Two gunshots

Simultaneous

The bullets pierce the heart

And tear away all humanity”

The blood spattered on the ground.  The life drained away.

“The heart and the mind rip away

Leaving two frozen skeletons

Still aiming at each other

Crown to eye patch”

No feeling remains.  No thought.  No skin, no flesh.  All that is left are the two skeletons of the men, still standing tall.  One was great.  The other was broken.  One sporting an eye patch.  One wearing a crown. 

Both lost.

Along the side of the field of this event, to this day, runs an old railroad track.  The bars are rusted with age.  Only one train still runs on it.

“Side by side

Their souls will board the train

And be swept away by Death

Claiming his prizes at long last”

Overlooking the scene from afar, on the top of a hill, stands a young writer.  Her gray eyes are shadowed with too many emotions to name.  In a poem, on an old piece of parchment, she recorded the event for others to see.  She knows that she is no poet.  She knows she is barely a writer.  But she also knows what is important to see and to learn from, even if the understanding of humans still eludes her.

She tore the last stanza from the parchment and handed it to the tall, black-hooded figure beside her.

“Pass it on for me, okay?” she said softly.  The she turned and trudged down the other side of the hill.

Death nodded, not even needing to look to know what the scrap read.  The wind blew in a hard gust, and then he was gone.

“Follow the crooked train tracks

Marked by the crown and the eye patch

Go ahead and hop on the next train

Save a seat for me

-T.J.C.”