Shattered Mirror

The intro of the group:

I'm not even entirely sure what I'm writing about. Today is a quiet day. I am tired, though not really sleepy.

I miss Hunter. I've missed two weeks of it now, though one of those was because the game was canceled completely. It's one of the most addictive game I've ever played, and I think a lot of that is the GM. Admittedly, I haven't had that many, but Josh is amazing. He really knows how to make a horrific scene, and I feel like nothing he says is just wasteful filler, like some people. There is something horrifying about the way this game works. I mean, we are just normal people.

This isn't DnD, where I'm a Lesser Aasimar Cleric, or a Halfling Warlock. I'm just a normal human. A nurse. A girl who had no worries other than the kind of creepy guy who had a crush on her at work, and is not thrust into this horrible world full of monsters, evil, and things she has never thought of before. She is in constant danger of dying, and she never asked for any of this. She didn't become a cleric or warlock, she didn't set out on an epic journey. She just tried to keep a promise to a dying man. Now she's waist deep in blood and horror, and fighting with powers she never knew she had alongside people she's never met before in her life. It's a very realistic game, considering.

I've been close to dying at least two times that I can think of. One the first, I botched a roll on jumping off of a low rooftop into a room full of zombies, with a witch (the zombie type from L4D, not the spells kind) right behind me. Thank God, I had Destiny, which allowed me to reroll. The other time, we were at the end of the "dungeon" and were confronting the main bad guy. He was a preacher (very southern) who had turned evil.

He wanted to know that we had learned his teachings.

-----
"Children! You have been shown the *truth* now! Your minds are filled with the words! You may go free, but first I want to hear, from your own lips, that you know the Truth." He paused and looked around, his manic smile still in place. "Who will speak for you?"

Maria looked at Fred and Devlin, trying to hide her fear. They were so screwed. Then, with a flash of insight, she remembered the bloody scrawls on the walls, the chanting by the zombies she had tried to speak to in the laundry room. She nodded to the men beside her and stepped forward. "I will speak."

The preacher grinned widely, his eyes glinting strangely in the gloom of the room. With her new sight, he showed up as a monster, dead and evil, but she was almost sure she would have known that anyway. "Step forward then, my pretty child. Step up before me and witness."

She swallowed hard and forced her shaking legs to carry her into the center of the kneeling zombies. Fred and Devlin followed, close behind and on either side. She was able to breathe easier with them there. They would not let anything come up from behind her.

"Child, have you seen the Truth?! Have you witnessed my teachings?"

She shivered, trying not to remember the poor Zombie she had tried to reason with. "Yes. I have."

"Then tell me, child, what is the first step to redemption?"

A memory: browning blood smeared on the wall in letters two feet high. She steadied. "Redemption is a lie. Death is the beginning," she quoted in a sure voice.

He cackled, his mad laughter bouncing off the stone walls and echoing around them. "How true! There is no Redemption! None!" He calmed. "Tell me, though, how do we deal with the stubborn? How can we convince them?"

"We don't," Maria answered firmly, visions of fire and bloody pamphlets flashing across her vision. "If they will not see, blind them."

"Precisely! Those that will not see will die. There will be no second chances! Now, child; answer me this, the final question. Just this more and you may leave: What is life?"

She had a moment of panic before she remembered what the young girl had whispered, over and over: "Life is our gift. Devour it and grow strong."

"YES!" He threw his head back, triumphant. "Yes, you have Learned the Truth! You are Free!" He laughed, the light in the room seemed to dim slightly. Maria trembled, hoping she had not doomed them all. As terrifying as it was to be... whatever she was, she knew it was infinitely preferable to the fate that might await her if she fell under the sway of this evil. Fred and Devlin were tense beside her, watching the preacher closely to see what he would do next.

"There is just one more thing, my children, before I can let you leave; just one last little part to make this night complete, and then you can go and spread the Truth!" He motioned, and the kneeling figures stirred. They left and returned a moment later carrying a squirming figure. She was dressed in the white uniform of the prison workers, and bound and gagged. They dropped her onto the altar in front of the preacher. She laid there, whimpering faintly, but Maria wasn't even sure she understood what was happening. Her eyes were wide and blank, and she was clearly in shock. She put her hand over her mouth, horrified.

The zombies held out long knives toward them, then froze, waiting.

"Go on, dear girl. Life is out gift! Devour hers, that you may grow strong and spread the Truth into the world! This is my gift to you!" His face was frozen in a grin of mad anticipation. Maria, like Devlin and Fred, took a knife without hesitation. She looked at the girl, who was probably a year or so younger than she, and took a deep breath.

"Okay."

She knew the others were confused, but her path was clear. She knew what she had to do to survive. She stepped forward and bent down over the girl, running a hand along her arm. Her skin was cool to the touch, and she was shivering like a mad thing, but she didn't react. Maria looked up at the preacher, who was practically vibrating with anticipation, then her companions, who looked perplexed, but ready to give her a chance to not flip out.

She hated to disappoint them.

In a movement as smooth as years of handling unconscious bodies could make it, she wrapped her arm around the girl, pulled her close, and yanked her back off of the altar, her knife out in front of them both. She would not let this innocent girl die, not even if she had to die trying to save her. she backed up until she was between her larger friends and paused, eyeing the preacher defiantly. "No," she said, wishing her voice was as firm as her intentions. "I cannot kill an innocent girl. I will not."

The roar that came from the man's mouth was echoed by the zombies around him. "How dare you! If you will not learn, if you will keep your eyes closed, I will PLUCK THEM OUT MYSELF!" The room erupted into chaos.

-----

That encounter ended with my crippled body being held in the air with his hand around my throat, ready to snap my neck. I survived only because the SWAT team managed to get through the door in that moment and he vanished.

It's pretty much the best game ever.

Why do people drink? Is it purely social? Surely not. After all, there is nothing you can do drunk that cannot be done sober, and much that you will that shouldn't. All in all, it's really a silly custom.

Yet we do.

Maybe it's more about the release of inhibitions, but i cannot see that the ease of your normal social boundaries is necessarily a good thing. They are there for a reason and, unless you are crippled by them, should probably remain. There is a reason you don't normally dance naked or make out with friends. It leads to trouble.

And those inhibitions? They come back after the alcohol is gone. So do your doubts, fears, and worries. And sometimes they bring company.


Does he think you are pretty if he sleeps with you? Does it matter less if you're drunk? Does his hand under your shirt mean he likes you, your breasts, both, or neither? Is he using you as a stand-in for the girl he can't have? Are you a convenience? Are you gonna talk about this? If not, is it because he's ashamed?

Do they laugh because you're funny or because you're jokes are? Are they ignoring you or just caught up in the moment? Do you get picked last out of coincidence or because you're wanted least?

Pretty girls are fun drunks; ugly ones pathetic.

Your life will be the same in the morning. The rules still apply.

return It's been quite some time since I left you ivejournal. Many things have changed, though much remains the same. One thing, though, has much remains the same. One thing, though, has come to my attention lately: I do not write anymore.

This is not just a matter of my not having time. I have time. I normally choose to spend it on things ike video games and books. Both are good in their like video games and books. Both are good in their own way, but neither one gives me the same emotional outlet as writing. It doesn't even have to emotional outlet as writing. It doesn't even have to be stories. I feel that just writing about my day, my be stories. I feel that just writing about my day, my concerns, will help, even if no one is reading it After all, a journal is really for the writer, not the After all, a journal is really for the writer, not the reader.

I am tired of only writing status updates. I need something longer, deeper. reader. I am tired of only writing stats updates. I need something longer, deeper.

So here I am. Back, I hope.

We'll see how it goes.

Karira is level 46 now. ^_^ She is very happy with this news.

Her sister-from-another-planet, Oneiko, is now level 15. She's new. And she's a priest. Only, she mostly makes things fall down, really. >.>;;

Samantha is moving to Awesome Town. One hopes Jeb is too.

School is back. Oh dear God.

Work is there.

I am sick.

Bleh.

I need to be asleep right now.

Level 35 now. <33

Karira has a mechanical squirrel name Mr. Chitters and a mechanical birdmount named Robochiggen. He is blue.

^^




P.S. Want to see Repo: The Genetic Opera. Zydrate Anatomy ftw!

Kari is level 25 now. =D

Other things are not so good. But at least Kari is 25.

Also, Kari does not like undead.They do not fall down when she hurts them, they are filled with goop instead of blood, and sometimes there are snakes inside them instead of shinies. She hates undead. She wants to destroy them all. Someday she will, too. Someday she will cleanse the land. Until then we're avoiding the damn darkshire forests.

-Have seen Batman three times. Will see it again soon, hopefully. Unf. Joker in a nurse outfit = HAWT. Ungh.

-Level 20 on WoW now. Karira is tiny and loves blood. And shiny things. Mostly, she loves getting up to her elbows in gore just to get to the shinies. But she doesn't like to hit things. No, she likes ICE. Mmmm ice. Fire is good, too, and so is Arcane, but she loves frost a lot. She is growing, and now has a guild and friends, and a tiny gnome lesbian friend names Aegia, who in reality is my best gay guy friend, and they dance together. Aegia is an engineer who makes her own guns and goggles. Kari loves to watch Aegia kill things. She loves her friend because of all the violence. Aegia is a little warrior who is full of rage. Kari likes to go out to big instances with her friend Skif, who is a rogue, just to watch him kill things. she likes it when he gets blood all over him, and then she gets to loot the bodies. It makes her happy. It is very easy to make her happy. Her friend Rosenfel made her a ring yesterday, and, though there was no blood involved, it still made her happy because it is shiny and looks good with her purple robes and blue cloak. Kari also like Gryphons. They go swoosh.

-Reading Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer (sp?). Is good. Is like chocolate. No substance, but sooo good.

-... What else is there to talk about? Books... check. Games... check. Batman? Nope... check. Hmm. I'm out then. Gotsta hit 21 soon yo!

I sold my soul last night.

Almost level 9 now.

-XoXo
Gigi (Karira)

Oh dear God could it have possibly taken any effin more effort to play WoW? I'm starting to think God doesn't want this for me. -_-;;

So I went to Jeb's on Sunday to hang out, and he and Josh convinced me to make a character on WoW. I've played it before, but not long, because I could feel it sucking me in. so. I finally caved and created a little gnome mage named Karira. (Kalila, the name of my FFXI Black Mage, was taken, I used the Engrish version of the name.) I started playing.

I got to level 7 that night. And then,the next day, they convinced me to buy the damn thing. So I did. But I did not have internet on my computer, only my parents' com[uter, which I've been using for months.

So Josh gave me his router.

I could not make it work, though I am not a complete retard. I gave up, frustrated. I went to Hellmart and bought a router. I could not make it work.

I called India.

I talked to a lady who thought I was retarded. Once she figured out that I had the basics (i.e. plug it up) down, she transfered me to "Cathy." Cathy and I talked. For an hour.

Finally when it was clear something was utterly wrong in the world, I kindly thanked "Cathy" for her help, apologized that it hadn't actually helped, and then told her I was going to give up.

So I did.

ByGod, I just took the modem and plugged to to my computer. Eff the parents. When I'm not using it, I'll give it back.

Of course, this was not possible until tonight, when I bought a 14 ft ethernet cord. So it never ocurred to me before. Sigh.

Whatever. WoW is ready.

Well, except that I have to DL and install the patches. Of course, Jsha nd Jeb gave them all to me on a CD. But, as is par for the course, the CD failed me and now I have to DL them all. Which should be over in...

about another hour.

-_-;;

Bygod, now I HAVE to play.

Here there be sap.

I think Ctrl Alt Del is now officially the first webcomic to make me cry. Like, sad tears. 

Wow.

Heh. Oh Tycho...

Go here. Keep refreshing until you've collected five quotes that really resonate with you, then post them to your journal. 

I picked a couple extra...



I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.
Douglas Adams (1952 - 2001)

Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh.
W. H. Auden (1907 - 1973)

Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards.
Robert Heinlein (1907 - 1988)

With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion.
Steven Weinberg (1933 - ), quoted in The New York Times, April 20, 1999

Nothing is so strong as gentleness. Nothing so gentle as real strength.
Saint Francis de Sales (1567 - 1622)

A new idea is delicate. It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn; it can be stabbed to death by a joke or worried to death by a frown on the right person's brow.
Charles Brower

----

And here are some classic favorites. ^_^

In those days spirits were brave, the stakes were high, men were real men, women were real women and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were real small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri.
Douglas Adams (1952 - 2001)

Everywhere I go I'm asked if I think the university stifles writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them. There's many a best-seller that could have been prevented by a good teacher.
Flannery O'Connor
US author (1925 - 1964)

God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of his own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players, to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.
Terry Pratchett, "Good Omens"

Sometimes glass glitters more than diamonds because it has more to prove.
Terry Pratchett

Words are the litmus paper of the minds. If you find yourself in the power of someone who will use the word "commence" in cold blood, go somewhere else very quickly. But if they say "Enter", don't stop to pack.
Terry Pratchett, Small Gods

Space is big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind- bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it's a long way down the road to the chemist's, but that's just peanuts to space.
Douglas Adams (1952 - 2001), The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

I have seen The Strangers. Not impressed.

I have seen Iron Man. Fuck. Yes.

I am the proud owner Rock Band. It is crack.

I am talking to Josh. Right now.

I miss the good old days.

I am done reading the Anita Blake series.

I am also done withe the Merry Gentry series.

I am working a lot.

I am going to the beach soon.

I am guilty for not having guilt.

I am full of fun feelings.

I am wearing pigtails.

I am in need of a haircut.

I am a beautiful snow flake.

Heather Alexander was an artist I first heard singing "Shadow Lover" by Mercedes Lackey. It was love at first song. I listened to a lot of her stuff (it was so hard to find) and planned on buying her CDs once I had money.

Today I found out she is no more.

Or rather... Heather isn't.

But Alexander is. Alexander James Adams.

I am shocked. Not because I'm offended or anything. Not even because I could never have pictured it. But...

I feel like someone should have mentioned it. I mean, I know I wasn't her biggest fan, but I was a fan. A newb, but a fan. Now I feel kind of like she died and I didn't know. And that's silly. But. I just don't know. It's like Alexander is a totally different person. Part of me feels like he was her son that took up her music. Like he has a right to it, but I'm afraid I won't like him.

...

I think I'm ust shocked. It's weird to find these things out without warning. And I really did think she had died for a minute, because one of her profiles was talking about her in past tense, and I thought I was going to cry.


On a side note, I want to meet Leslie Fish and shake that woman's hand. I mean, seriously, have you ever heard of anyone so very interesting? Wow.

-I am reading the Anita Blake novels. Am on Bloody Bones. Am pulled in. Am lost to reality.

-Should be studying

-Have survived Dead Week

-Am about to begin Finals Week

-Am going straight to reading novel when I finish this post. >.>

-Really need to study

-Love Edward.

Tired. Slept so little Sunday night. Slept about two or three hours Monday night. Did not sleep at all last night.

The week before finals is the WORST.

On the bright side, got my English Paper done, my PPP for JP, my skit is mostly memorized, and I just need a few pointers for the assignment for my CompLit class.

To do:
By Friday:
JP Movie Paper (need topic...)
Oral Interview in JP
Paper for CompLit
PPP for CompLit
Story for CW2? No? >.>
Work extra shift at some point to make up time


For Next Week:
Read The Tempest
(Read Hamlet (again)
Read Twelfth Night
Read Macbeth
Read King Lear
Read... is that all? Hm.)
Do Final Essays for JP Movie Class
Study for JP Final
Practice Essays for Shakespeare Final
Complit Final?
CW2 Final?

Right now:
Put on socks (coldsocold)
Get ready for school
Drink a lot of coffee
Finish memorizing skit

omigod

...

I can has sleep now?

... My teacher is not here. I got up early to come to my first class (my original teacher is at home cause he had a stroke, so we have a sub), and the bastard is not here.

I'm never getting up early for this again. >.>

In good news... I'm playing God in our Japanese skit. Is that good? It's hard. It's interesting. Is it good?

I'm so tired it hurts. The end of the semester always kicks my ass.

Crisis Core

I LOVE this game. lovelovelove.

There is a four minute cutscene of Sephiroth and the other two training on the Junon cannon that made me pee my pants with glee.

So.

Good.

Also. Zack = love.

As does Sephiroth's voice. /dies




...

The end of this game might well kill me.