Monday, December 17, 2007

An Unevenly Matched Couple Part 3

Eira let herself revel in the energy for all of five seconds.

Her own ugly brush with reality would keep her from develing completely into her own fantasy world.

Keeping her breathing as even as possible, she slowly retracted her energy and bent to pick up and replace her belongings in the bag.

When she rose, her ID was in hand and it was thrust into the hands of Squeaky with a half-growl, snarl before she stalked off, a little spot of red glowing on the cover.

"I am not staying here any longer." Her voice grated again. "So you need not track me down to return that. I will call it when I know you are finished."

With that, she stalked off, melting into the crowd.

Dana's words now replayed in her head and the moment she found a quiet, shadowed corner. She took it.

A simple doorstep, with a seemingly empty alley, she leaned back, head against the wall. One sigh escaped followed by a sniffle that couldn't be held back.

Now it seemed Dana was more right that she'd ever been. "I couldn't have been wrong to want something better, could I?" Eira asked her boots.

Of course, they didn't answer, but someone else did.

"Depends on what you're wanting, miss."

Her head jerked up to look at a fellow a few inches shorter than her shoulder height, he was wearing a well-worn, but rich, hooded cloak and expensive brown boots. In one arm he cradled a sack of grocery and his eyes were smiling even though his mouth did not. "Everything all right?" He inched past, edging around her to head for the road.

Eira looked at him miserably. "No. And nothing will ever be right."

He paused to look back. "Bit dramatic, aren't you?" He shifted the sack. "Guest or Visitor?"

She sniffled. "I don't know anymore."

He sighed. Loudly. "Very well then, I'll assume you are a stray. Have you a place to stay for the night?"

"If I did would it matter?" She pulled her feet up to her chest. "I can't believe I'm here doing this."

"Doing what?" He tapped her leg with one foot. "Up. Consider yourself temporarily adopted. At least, if you are who you seem to be." He chuckled. "That was quite a burst of energy. I could feel it all the way back here."

Eira's head snapped up to look at him fully this time. "You felt my energy?" She was on her feet, hugging the bag to her chest, now completely aware.

He held up a hand as if to protect himself. "Hey. No need to be so jittery. I just said I could, that's all. And it is a friendly offer." The lips twisted into a superlicious smile. "No one would dare disturb you in your misery while under the protection of the Dark Phoenix."

Eira thought she might faint. "You're the Dark Phoenix?"

He perked a brow. "Don't tell me. You were expecting someone older and taller."


"You can stay then." He turned on his heel with a huff.

"No, wait!" Eira hurried after him. "I didn't mean that the way it came out, I mean, well, hey, wait up!"

Friday, March 30, 2007

An Unevenly Matched Couple Part 2

The flight was uneventful for the most part, the only trouble that Eira had was getting herself explained as to where she was headed. Once the transport had docked at the station, she'd exited with most of the passengers and lined up to be registered as guests, visitors or residents.

She explained that she was going to be a visitor because she did not plan on staying long. The officer stamped "guest" on her pass and moved on to the next person in line. "Sir? Um, excuse me, but you said I'm a guest...I'm just a visitor, I won't be staying here long enough to be an actual guest...sir?" Her voice trailed off at the glare that was sent her way.

The pass was grabbed, a piece of yellowed square slapped on front a double line stamped over the offending 'guest'. It now read "Visitor" stamped over guest.

She sighed. Figured. "Thanks!" She called, sarcastic as the bustling crowd jostled her away from the platform. "Nevermind." Her stomach growled and she dedicated the remainder of the day to finding a place she could afford to eat.

"Who would've thought Vanderoone was so expensive." She muttered, settling for an aisle vendor with something vaguely resembling a stuffied pie. She calcuated her change and decided she could spare enough to purchase for lunch and dinner and possibly breakfast.

Tasting it first, proved to be fortunate, for it did taste good, but somewhat salty. Eira bargained with the vendor until he agreed to make a few salt-free. She eneded up paying him for an extra one to make up for the trouble.

She was nearly on her way when she stopped and on a whim, asked him where she could find the Dark Phoenix. He stared at her long and hard for a moment, then suddenly pulled up the sides on his cart and hurried off.

Eira blinked. "Okay...that was wierd." Stuffing her mouth, she happily continued, wondering where exactly she should begin her search. It was said that the Dark Phoenix usually resided somehwere on the planet adjacent to Vanderoone, known formally as the planet Vandroxe.

She swallowed, gagging on a bit of root and managing to cough out the hard piece. She grimaced. "I guess you get what you pay for." She grumbled when the 'root' turned out to be a large chunk of rock salt. "Yecch!"

Heading for the travel center she found an open counter with a friendly enough face to ask her the question. "This might sound crazy, but I'm looking for the Dark Phoenix, can you tell me-?" She stopped as the friendly face grew red then white and quickly expressionless as it turned away. "Nevermind." She c alled half-heartedly after the retreating figure. "I'll just find it on my own." She shook her head. "The Dark Phoenix is a legend, how come everyone here acts like he's their impending destruction?"

The wording of her thought allowed for a short laugh and she continued on merrily before finding a quiet place between too shops and settling down to rest for awhile. Hopefully she wouldn't be noticed and a little nap wouldn't hurt either...

Eira's eyelids drooped, slowly, tiredly and then closed. It was a matter of seconds before she was fast asleep and completely unaware of the eyes watching her from the rooftops of the quaint shops.


Eira awoke to the rough shaking of an unfamiliar hand on her shoulder. "Huh..wha?" She mumbled, struggling to bring her sleeply brain up to speed with her already alert body.

Finding the shaker to be a fuzzy looking male figure, she jerked away slightly. "Hey! Keep your hands to yourself." A mild threat, she rubbed her face lightly and stifled a yawn. "All right already, I'm up, what is it?"

Her vision cleared enough for her to finally get a good look at the 'shaker'. Vanderoone Elite Security Officers. A hand went to her mouth and she wiped it hurriedly, hoping there were no crumbs to show her hasty lunch. "Uh, can I help you with something?"

"I need to see your pass and ID." The Officer nearest demanded, his face set in an expression Eira didn't partiuclarly like.

"Sure. No problem, it's in my bag" Eira's voice trailed off as she started at the spot she'd been sleeping. There was no bag and nothing at all, save for her shadow staring back up at her. "I uh, great! How do I explain this, um, I'm really sorry, but I don't have it on me right now, I uh, had it in a bag and was sleeping and I guess someone took it. Sorry."

"No ID?" The next officer, taller and more rough-looking moved to the front of the group. "No pass?"

Eira shook her head cautiously. "No. I had. Now I don't. I think someone stole them."

"The people of Vanderoone are not thieves." The skinny officer chimed. His voice squeaky and high-pitched. Eira wondered if she could tune him with a tuning fork.

"I didn't say that they were, I just said that I had a bag with me and now I don't and the only obvious answer to that is that somebody or something stole it from right out under me."

"You are implying of course that someon from Vanderoone 'stole' your bag then?" The first officer said.

Eira closed her eyes for a moment. "no. No. No. No! I am not saying anything of the sort, I am not implying that I have anything to say at all on the subject of thievery, I am merely saying that my bag is missing and seeing as you are the current officers and authorities on this staion, shouldn't you be logging it down as lost or missing or something? I have valuable things in there!"

"it doesn't matter what she says she sounds like she is saying something that makes absolutely no sense at all." But as the second officer spoke a faint smile was visible on his face. "Do you have anyone to verfiy your story, ma'am?"

Eira blinked. "No, well, sort of and not really. But I can call family who'll vouch for me!" She suggested, hopeful.

The officers shrugged as one and Squeaky suggested that she follow them to headquarters. She willingly followed in hopes of getting the entire mess all sorted out. She wasn't feeling too hopeful about the recovery of her personal belongings until she happened to catch sight of the young Sardonean male standing innocently in linef for a junk seller. he happened to be holding a very familar bag.

"Uh, officers?" She tapped the one nearest to her and pointed striaght. "That boy has my bag."
She turned back in time to see the trio exchange a three-way glance. "What? I know it's mine. I can prove it if I get hold of it!"

"Right." The first officer muttered. "I suppose you'll prove it by way of the bag's contents."

Eira's eyes narrowed to mere slits. "No. Of course not. That would hardly be credible, now would it?" She snapped.

Before either of them could com after her, she stalked off towards the kid and tapped his shoulder. He turned lazily and for a milli-second a flicker of fear pass through his red eyes. His face contorted to a half-glare. "What'd ya want, lady?"

Eira fixed her red-brown eyes on his meaningfully. "I think you know what I want. You have my bag and don't even try arguing for it. I'm half Sar and if I need to get my bag back by arguing for the sake of insanity, I'll be happy to do it. I've had plenty of practice."

The boy looked at her incredulously and turned his back to her, moving forward in the line. Eira felt her temper prick until the officers stepped up and asked him to step aside and show the contents of the bag.

He did. The duffel was empty and battered and there was practically nothing of great worth in or from it, except maybe it was worth a few Vrid from the Junkman. He smiled mockingly as he was allowed to return to to his place in line.

Eira felt her temper before she saw it. "Oh Eira." She murmured, closing her eyes. It was a struggle to hold her temper in check, a forever battle giving to one side and then to the other. Mostly giving in to her constant inner pleading. Today she lost.

Red energy pooled rapidly at her fingertips and she cocked one hand as her eyes flew open. She heard quiet gasps and the usual rustling as the 'audience' adjusted themselves to be further away from her.

She tilted her head easily...and smiled. "My name is Eira." Her voice grated. "And I draw on every mark that I have made on all objects in this station belonging to me." The air was tense and silent as the noise ceased.

Then the rattling started. Quiet and then more insistent as several objects suddenly hurtled through the air, people scrambling to stay out of the way from it as it flew to Eira and hovered just a few inches away in mid-air.

Her eyes glowed blood-red and the energy hadn't left her hands. Suddenly, the duffel the boy had been holding. Jerked. Hard and flew through the air towards her. She caught it with her free hand...and smiled.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

An Unevenly Matched 'Couple'

I just had the brilliant idea for this yesterday, but couldn't sit down long enough to churn something out on it. For the most part it will be sketchy and very rough, but not without a few charming phrases and wonderfully fitting pieces. I haven't a name for anyone yet, so I'll try to keep it simple with names and use the title of this post as the current story name. Eh, you'll keep up if ya like it. Here we go.

"You want to go where?" Dana exclaimed, her pink eyes flashed in the way that usually meant she was trying to hold either tongue or temper in check to keep from embrassing herself.

"I beg your pardon if you don't approve, sis." Eira continued stuffing-or trying to-her brown boots into an already bursting duffel. "He's the best ever and everyone knows about him-can't you think ahead to what I will be afterwards?"

"You mean besides completely insane, entirely out of sorts and struggling to function after an inevitable nervous breakdown?" Dana's sarcastic tone drew a troubled frown from her younger sibling.

"Dana-I really don't need that right now. Honest. I just wish you'd accept it instead of going all balistic like everyone else did." Eira gave up with crushing the boots and tugged them out, attempting to zipper the duffel.

"Everyone else was being nice and polite and smart!" Dana snapped, she nudged the bulky boots off the bed. "You, on the other hand, are being plain stupid."

Eira rolled her eyes. "It's plain stupid to want to develop my powers?" She snorted. "I thought you and mom were the ones always telling me I should use my powers for good and what good are they if I don't know how to use them properly and for the general good of others?"

"You're taking it out of context." Dana retorted. "And neither Mum nor I ever said anything about formal training. You're a temporary League graduate, isn't that good enough?"

"It was wonderful-and I loved it. I wish there'd been more. Besides, how could he possibly be any worse than The League? You all agreed when I said I wanted to go for temporary graduate."

Dana's eyelids lowered to near slits. "We all agreed on 'temporary'." She emphasized. "Temporary. Not a single inkling of permenance anywhere in there!"

Eira sighed, about ready to give up on both sister and duffel bag. "Look, we all have heard the saying a thousand times plus, that with power comes responsibility. Don't you want me to grow into a sensible, responsible young woman?"

"You're already responsible enough." Dana muttered. "It's the sensible part you need to master."

Eira stifled a sigh of relief as the duffel reluctantly zippered. She found a small shrinking sack to fit her boots into. Once instead, she shrunk it to the desired size and slung it over her shoulder along with the duffel. "I appreciate the worry, Sis. I guess that's what sisters do." She leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Love ya and I'll write as soon as I can, unless ya'll decide to move or something without tellin' me."

Dana was on her feet before Eira could turn towards the door. "You're leaving now? Already? What about everyone else?"

"I told everyone else when I was leaving two weeks ago." Eira said patiently, attempting to move past and stopping when Dana blocked her way. "Dana, I already said goodbye."

"And you're just going to up and leave like this?" Dana frowned. "Told your boyfriend goodbye too?"

Eira made a face. "I've already dumped him. Brent is no more supportive than you are and I wish I hadn't ever cared about him in the first place. Everything has to be done according to the way he wants it done or else. I can't stand him at all."

"A few months ago he was charming, polite and everything you could hope for." Dana hinted. "Eira, I'm only suggesting that you think of your future rather than just your present. What if you turn up there on some dingy doorstep and can't understand how you got there or why and what's going on. You'll wish there was someway to get yourself out of there and there will be no way out. You change your mind too often and your temper puts you in the worst of moods when everything doesn't go the way you want it to-I'm only asking that you consider all of this before you go on charging out into a very big and open space."

Eira sighed. "Dana-please." She held up a hand. "Don't lecture me. I'm not hearing anything you're saying right now. Look, if I get there and it isn't what I want to devote a few months of my life to, I'll turn around and come back and make up some excuse about a bossy sister, okay?"

"I'm not bossy." Dana sniffled, the first tear slowly trickling down her cheek.

Eira wished she'd left quietly a few hours earlier. "Dana, come on. Don't cry-I'll start crying and then we'll both end up looking horrible and standing in line at the farewell gate and then I'll end up on the Dark Phoenix's doorstep with tearstreaks all over my face."

"I can't help it!" Dana swiped at her face, but the tears were still coming. "Eira, they don't call him the Dark Phoenix for nothing."

"And we all know that my powers are a little too dark for my own good." Eira patted her shoulder awkwardly. "I'll write as soon as I can, Dana. You know me."

Dana took a deep breath, followed with a loud sniffle. "I do, unfortunately." She smiled through the last tears. "Take care of yourself, you hear? And don't you bring back anything less than your best!"

Eira grinned. "My best or else? I think I can handle that." She gave a last hug before charging out the door and down the hall to the back door. She skidded to a stop at hearing voices in the kitchen.

There wasn't supposed to be anyone else home. At least not now. She pantomimed smacking her forehead. How stupid of her to think that she could simply sneak out after an announcement two weeks before and no one even paying some attention. Naturally they would appear not to-if they meant to throw her an extravagant farewell party.

A hand touched her shoulder and Eira flinched, turning to see a mildly amused Dana. Her sister gestured towards the kitchen hall, but Eira shook her head lightly. Dana's head bowed for a moment and then she motioned towards the front door and blew a kiss.

Eira pretended to catch it and tip-toed quietly, successfully to and out the door. She didn't glance back, not wanting to see her sister's tear-streaking complexion a third time. "I'll be fine, Dana." She murmured. "And someday we'll laugh over this." She struggled to join the flow of the passing crowd. "We'd better." She added grimly, checking the time on her travel stub. She was cutting things pretty close.

Friday, March 23, 2007

First Twist

What fiction means to me? I can sort of say I know and I don't. I know that it means a way of expressing myself and the many voices inside of me that otherwise would remain stifled or deformed for the rest of my life. It means a chance to say what I might not have yet gained the courage to try in real life, or the way I wish something would turn out so heartache wouldn't be inevitable.

Too many people see it as just writing a story. My own opinion is that it's much more. Maybe more than what we think it is. I know it creates worlds where others can live temporarily when their life is spiraling out of control or their brilliant thoughts have gone awry.

Maybe it's easier to understand when you have something to compare it to. The following is the excerpt from the depths of my mind concerning a fictional character I've yet to quite define.

Blog Entry: Unnamed.
Great. I don't even know if I'm spelling this right. What am I supposed to write about? I totally hate this whole thing. I don't want to go around telling people about myself and what I do and what I write, is really, none of their business. Wonderful, my English teacher would have a field day with all this horrible grammar. I can't say that I would complain. Though it would be so easy, I can't see myself as a whiner. They say if you can't see yourself as something, chances are you aren't and can never be. I wonder if that's like the writer/artist thing. You know, they say if you write you can't draw, but isn't writing just like drawing except with words and all of your imagination? There isn't really a write or a rong. Or is there? Nah, don't answer that. I really don't need more answers today. It's been that kind of a whacked out week. My fave sentence as I practially own it-I can't say that I really care. Too many crazy things have happened for me to just ignore the way this has all been climbing. Feels like a cliff, or that story thing where there's the little eagles or something and they go up to the edge and they're looking over and the edge and thinking how far down it is. (I think) and then the big eagle (a teacher, no doubt or some crazy flight instructor-wierd) comes up to them and tells them to go right to the very edge and they say that they're afraid. It tells them to go anyway and when they do, It pushes them right off the edge and they fly. That's a fairly accurate description of my life right now. Except for I've been falling a long time and I think someone clipped my wings before they threw me over the edge. Heh. Care to share a laugh? Nevermind. I gotta go.


That's about all I have for this piece. It's floating around in my head and I see the writer as a girl-sort of. I'm not really sure. I'd love an opinion or suggestion on this piece.