Thursday, 31 January 2013

Funny Things...

Okay, I know I may have that there won't be any posts for a while, but the only homework I got today was to get exercise books and read a few chapters of a book that I've read and such things.

Rest assured, on Monday I get my first assignment of the year, for Science, and it counts for, like, 40% of my semester grade, or something like that.

So, while I have time, I will post.

Because I was just checking over my blog's stats, and I've learnt that I am a mere 22 page views away from 5000.

Five thousand views.

That's crazy. I've had this blog for just over a year. Say, 400 days.

Five thousand views, in about four hundred days, having accumulated fifty followers, which really should be forty nine, because I don't count.

But the principle.

Which will make my stats page say that I have 5000 page views, 50 posts, and 50 followers.

That's a lot of fives.

And a lot more zeros.

Which is nothing less than pure awesomeness.

So, I'm gonna write somethin' real quick now, and post it when it's done.

... Though, it may take a little longer than expected, but it'll be up by tomorrow afternoon.


Okay, so, I think, all of you, should be very privileged that I am taking my now very precious time to write a blog post.

Because, this second, I am irritable.

It has taken most of my self control to not tell the people I have spoken to after school today to piss off.

And it really isn't because I'm angry, Zath, Rim and Flame. Lu, you may notice that you are the exception, but, then again, I did mention something about you reminding me of the only person I would welcome a conversation with right now.

So, to all of you, I doubt there will be a blog post for a while.

I'd like to get to a nice 50 posts, but seeing as school just went back today, and I have 11 weeks of school this term (not to mention that the final week is camp so I will have no internet, and most likely no one I like enough to talk to for a whole week) which is to be coupled with the fact that I'm now in Year 10, which makes so little sense to me when I say it out loud- but basically it's a truck load of works, and I need A's in basically every area heard of and more to be able to take Extension 2 English next year- And I REALLY want that.

So, for probably the first time ever, I am going to determinedly stick my nose to the grindstone and actually get all of my homework in on time this year.

And any free time I have that isn't devoted to moving house, I will be using to write my Hunger Games competition entries, because if I don't I won't have time- and that would suck.


Where was I...

Oh yeah.

Anyway, I'm currently irritable because people keep interrupting me. And I'm reading. I find it unfathomable that people have the audacity to talk to me when I very clearly have a book that I am reading in my hands.

And it's a good book.

It's a special book.

It is the only book I've ever received as a Christmas present.

It is one of the two only books that I have that no one other than me is allowed to touch- save one person.

The other book on this remarkably short list being my copy of TEOTW, which is signed to Sparky.

There ain't no one who touches that and lives.

'Cept for Derek, cause it's his signature.

And Hayley, cause she's the reason it's special in the first place, and I trust her.

Anyway, the point of this post is, I'm at school, no time for writing, and if you want to talk to me- expect me to be rudely dismissive for the next day or two.

Also, if I get time to write beyond the HG entries, I'm going to be focusing on New World.

Which I'm considering taking down, because I do think if I worked on it enough it'd be publishable.


How do I end this...

That'll do.

Thursday, 24 January 2013

A Question.

One, simple question.

Do any of you think that- with the aids of time travel- it would be possible to be your own mother?

Before any of you start calling the men with the nice, pretty straight jacket, the question was inspired by panel seven of this comic:

So. That leaves the question. Aided by time travel, is it possible to give birth to yourself?

Friday, 18 January 2013

Writing is HARD...

I know most of you will understand what I'm talking about, but my WORD it's hard sometimes. Sometimes you get that perfect flow where the words are practically flying out of your head, and other times every single sentence you write simply looks wrong. And you sit there, tearing at your hair and grinding your teeth, trying to figure out what the flying flute is wrong with that goddamned sentence. Because you change it, and edit it and flip words around and it's still sitting there, glaring at you screaming 'I am your terrible grammar incarnate. Hate me.'

Okay, so, I could be overreacting here, but it just drives me MAD. Completely up-the-wall, psycho, bonkers, mental-crazy.

Or other times, where you have this BRILLIANT idea for a plot twist and you sit down at your laptop/computer/notebook and one of two things happens. Either you have completely forgotten what the idea was- all except the detail of it being simply mind-blowingly twisty and such. OR the idea is right at the front of your head and you can't find the right freaking words to put your idea onto paper.


That was all.

Wednesday, 16 January 2013


That is the title of this short story. Vanish. It's 1008 words long, and I'm going to use it for my Writer's Club required 1000 words, cause it's funny. It should be, at least. It was written in an hour, so don't expect it to be excellent.

I was sitting in a café when he walked up to me and sat down. He removed his hat and placed it on the table in front of me, then pulled his scarf off and folded it up, which he placed on the table next to the hat. He then pulled his gloves off and placed them on top of the scarf. Next, he pulled his jacket it off and hung it over the back of his chair.
“Quite finished?” I murmured. He laughed.
“Never one for hello’s, were you?”
“Nope. Want something? I haven’t ordered yet.”
“Not thirsty.” He chuckled.
“Still working for the Sanctuary?”
“Still investigating your murder.”
“And how’s that going for you?” I asked, smirking at him. He scowled at me.
“It’d be a lot easier if you’d let me know that there was no murder a month ago when I started.”
“You should’ve asked.”
“I thought you were dead?” he said, arching an eyebrow at me.
“Geez, sarge, I thought you knew me better than that.” I said, standing up.
“I thought you said you hadn’t ordered.”
“I hadn’t.” I picked up scarf and wrapped it around my neck. “Mind if I keep this? No? Good.” I walked out of the café and stifled a giggle when I heard him sigh. I stepped out into the cold street and tugged my coat around me more tightly. I started down the road and kept my chin tucked into the scarf. I counted in my head and got to eleven before he reached my side and matched my pace.
“Did you miss me, Zath?” I asked.
“No.” he replied coolly. I shouldered him lightly.
“The truth.”
“Fine. I did miss you. Glad to see you’re alive and well, Sparks.”

“So, I was murdered. Who by?” We’re now sitting in my living room, talking over hot chocolate.
“Don’t know.”
“Cause of death?” I ask.
“Unknown. You vanished.”
“Oh?” I grunt.
“Didn’t turn up to work. Didn’t answer any phone calls. Didn’t answer any of my phone calls. Weren’t at your house-“
“You mean here?”
“Yes. I managed to contact Hayley, who said she hadn’t heard from you for as long as you’d been gone for. Same from Vulpin. You literally vanished.” He says, sipping his drink.
“You’re acting as though you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m a good actress.”
“Very funny. Seriously, where were you?”
“Away.” I reply.
“Do you get a kick out of being vague?”
“Possibly.” I smile. He scowls at me.
“Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“More fun this way.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Zathract!” at this point he looks as though he’s about to punch me, and I’m basically grinning my face off.
“I swear to God-“
“Which God? The Faceless Ones? The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit? Amun? Anubis? Geb? Horus? Isis? Osiris? Ra? Seth?”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“You realize that I’m already angry at you, right?”
“Yes.” I’m not even trying to keep the smile off my face.
“Then tell me where you were!”
“Why?” I ask innocently, stirring my hot chocolate.
“Because if you don’t I’ll throw something at you.”
“What is there to throw?” I ask. He’s silent for a moment.
“Tell me.”
“Say please.”
“Please tell me.”
“No.” I grin. He throws his hat at me. It hits me in the chest, and I fall off the chair, pretending it hurt.
“Please tell me?” I hear him say, his tone very close to- but not quite- pleading.
“Nope!” I call, lying on the floor.
“Why not?”
“Cause this is fun!”
“Maybe for you.”
“Oh, are you sulking now?” I ask, sitting up.
“No.” he says, folding his arms.
“I think you are.”
“I am not.”
“I think that Zathract is frustrated because he can’t get me to give him a straight answer.” I say, giggling. He glares.
“Aw, c’mon, you’ll look back at this and think it was really funny.”
“It could just make me want to hit you.”
“It could, but I don’t think it will.”
“What makes you so confident of that?” he asks. I stand up and take a sip from my drink.
“Because you know if you hit me I’ll just electrocute you.”
“That’s beyond the point.” He mutters. “You’re getting me off topic.”
“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Where were you.” He didn’t phrase it as a question this time. Oh, geez, he is ticked off. This is great.
“Well, Sherlock, I wasn’t at work, I wasn’t with my friends, I wasn’t dead and I wasn’t home. You’re a detective. Figure it out.” I half sing.
“Or you could just tell me.”
“But that won’t happen.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Cause this is more fun.” I repeat.

“Sparky, tell me this second or I’ll…”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll think of something, and then do it.”
“Want some sunflowers to chop up?”
“Yes.” I walk into my living room, pick up a vase of sunflowers and hand them to him. He nods and clears his throat.
“Tell me where you were or I’ll throw these sunflowers at you.”
“Shock horror.”
“I’m serious.” He says.
“I bet you are.”
“I mean it.”
“I don’t doubt you.” I reply.
“Then… Why aren’t you telling me.”
“Because it’s a vase of sunflowers, Zathract.
“I don’t care if you throw it at me.”
“Oh, would you please just tell me!?” He exclaims, placing the vase on the table.
“I was on holiday, Zathract.” I say, finally. He gives me a look that screams ‘I don’t believe you’.
“Wouldn’t you have told the Sanctuary?”
“Well, I did. Except then my phone broke, and I couldn’t remember any of my contacts. I figured that the messages had gone through. It would seem they didn’t.” I explain.
“That was it?” he asks.
“You mean I went to all the trouble for-“ I cut across him.
“And you couldn’t have said that in the first place because…?’ he asks.
“Cause this is more fun.”

Monday, 14 January 2013

Titles Really Suck.

Seriously, I hate thinking up names for these blog posts. I can't say something directly related to my post, cause that tales all of the mystery out of the situation. And I can never thinking of anything else. Like, ever. Read my blog post titles. They suck. Really.

Anyway, I have been writing, I have some more of New World for you. Just as a warning, there is some zombie jargon in this next part.


I haven't yet managed to write more of my SP fanfic, but it will get done. I have also written some more HP/Victorious, but seeing as no one here other than Lu, Val, Rim and Zath will understand any of my well placed references, I really don't see the point in posting it here. (Please feel free to ask me to post here. I will if anyone shows any interest, cause it IS being written.)

I'm also going to take this opportunity to ask you guys of a favour. I am damn, freaking determined to finish New World. I will finish it, even if it kills me. So, if I EVER say I'm giving up on it, you must PROMISE to make me keep going. Bombard me with e-mails. Comment until the cows come home. Spam my Skype. I don't care. Just make sure I don't quit. 

I don't care if I have to rewrite the bloody thing a THOUSAND times, I WILL finish it! I WILL!


And with that;

‘That, is an AK47. Be careful with it.’ He said. I nodded.

Soon enough, Tim had told us the basic plan and location of the compound, and a few ground rules.
‘Don’t run unless they run, don’t jump unless they jump, in fact, don’t do anything unless they do it first.’ He told us as he did a final check through the rooms.
‘Why?’ Cody asked. Tim had halted suddenly, nearly making Cody crash into him. We all took a subtle step back when Tim faced us, looking more serious than he had since we met up with him. Which was a feat in itself.
‘They learn.’ He said, simply. ‘Every single thing an Infected sees you do, it copies. The only thing the infection knows is to bite and to learn. And if one Infected learns, they all learn.’ He started to flick the lights off.  ‘If you were wondering, the only way to contract the virus is to breath in a certain concentrated amount of it, or to be bitten by someone who has already contracted it. But the infection itself is equipped with a sort of neural-relay thing. Too complicated for you to understand. Once a person is infected, their minds get stripped of everything. Memories, emotions, even how to use their own bodies. This, in turn, allows the infected mind to be connected to every other Infected’s mind. So, when one of them learns something, it only takes a few seconds for all of them to know. So, don’t do anything until they do it first. For example, if one starts to run at you, sprint.’ He nodded as he made his way to the entrance. ‘Of course, there are limitations. An Infected can only run as fast and swim as well as the body allows it. Part of the virus causes rot, as you’ve noticed, which would be detrimental to anyone.’ He stood by the door and though for a long moment. ‘On top of that, it destroys the nervous system. A zombie standing in an inferno won’t know it’s burning, or that it should move. This is probably more bad than good, though, because that means if it loses an arm, it’ll keep going. Aim for the head. Destroy the brain. Or the spinal column, but that's harder.’ Tim looks at us. ‘In conclusion, don’t do anything an Infected doesn’t do first, destroy the brain, and you had better have being paying attention, because I don’t intend to say that again.’

Tim wasn't so well-equipped with melee weapons, which meant the others were down to metal bats and knives. In short, we were a group of teenagers facing a situation we never knew we’d need to be ready for, and close to no experience defending ourselves. Ross had fired a pistol before, earning him the Magnum he had been gripping tightly. He also had an axe strapped to his back. Kaley had a crowbar, and she’d also been learning Krav Maga for a while. Lia had a metal bat, cause she used to play softball. Cody had a pair of knives, because he was easily the most mature out of us. Tim was equipped with an Assault Rifle, and he had a shotgun strapped to his back. I had the AK47 and nightstick hung through the loops of my jeans.
‘The route we’re taking goes past my house. I have to check on my sister. I don’t care what you say, I have to make sure that she’s okay.’ Ross said. Tim looked at him for a long moment. Ross matched his gaze intensely, which left the rest of us standing in the awkward silence. Eventually Tim blinked.
‘Fine. But we don’t hang around for more time than necessary. Do you have a key?’
‘Yeah.’ Ross replied.
‘Then you unlock the door, you go in, split up and then meet back at the front door in no more than two minutes. If you see an Infected, do not engage unless it comes at you. If you spot a living, breathing girl, coax her out. Check for bite marks and report back. I will wait outside and prevent any from coming in. Let’s go.’ Tim opened the door and walked out of the room. Kaley was directly behind him, followed by Cody, then Lia in the middle, then Ross, and then I brought up the rear. Once we had left the hallway, we emerged into the sunlight, which definitely took me by surprise. I squinted and scanned the area, but there were only two or three zombies in sight. We walked through the amusement park, barely a word passed between us. Tim lead us along, never stopping, never slowing. Not a single zombie noticed us, let alone attack us.
‘The infection didn’t occur too long ago.’ Tim thought aloud, ‘They haven’t gotten hungry yet.’
‘They have to eat?’ Kaley asked.
‘Yes. They need fuel, but not air.’
‘Wait, are they alive or dead?' Lia asked.

Eventually we reached my street, and I could tell from Ross’s behavior that it was all he could do to not run to his house. We passed mine and I lingered slightly to look at it. It was exactly the same as I had left it that morning. No disturbance. Nothing that could let me know of what had happened. Kaley doubled back to stand next to me.
‘We have to keep going.’ She said quietly.
‘I know.’ I murmured. We walked back to where the rest of the group was waiting.
‘Remember what I said before. Don’t linger in there. You have two minutes exactly from when the door opens. If you aren’t back by then, I’m coming in.’ Tim ordered. I nodded and Ross unlocked the front door to his house. He walked in first and we followed. We stopped in a circle.
‘Ross, you search the living and dining rooms. I’ll search the kitchen and games room. Lia, Kaley, Cody, you split up the bedrooms and upstairs bathroom. Go.’ I instructed. I walked into the kitchen with my hand on the handle of the nightstick, and my gun lowered. I checked in all the cabinets and swiftly made my way into the games room. I checked my watch and noticed that I had only thirty more seconds. I walked back into the hallway as the others came down the stairs.
‘You go out, I’ll find Ross.’ I said. They walked out and I went into the living room. I saw a shadow in the corner and realized that Ross had found Katie. But he was backed up into the corner and she was, well, not all there. I took the Nightstick out and was about to run up behind her when I remembered that I couldn’t. I walked up and slammed the stick down on the back of her head. She turned around and moaned at me. I stepped back and slammed it down on the front of her head, then the side, and then the front again. I paused for a second and she dropped to the ground. I glanced at Ross, who was staring at me like I was out of my mind. I took the handgun from him and shot at Katie’s rotten, beaten head. I gave him the gun back and grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the house.
‘I heard a gunshot. Was it necessary?’ Tim asked.
‘I dunno, I didn’t really have time to pull the axe off of his back and I didn’t want to waste any of my own bullets.’ I snarled. They all looked at me.
‘The girl was already gone. Ross was never going to be able to pull a gun or an axe on her, and I’m really quite fond of the idea of him alive, aren’t you?’ There was a long moment of silence.
‘You killed my sister.’ Ross said quietly.
‘She was gone.’
‘You don’t know that.’ Ross said. I faced him and glared.
‘I’m sorry, but I think you’re forgetting something here. You aren’t the only one who’s lost family; you’re just the only one to insist on checking upon family members even though you know there's no point. Now look me in the eye and tell me she wasn’t a zombie. I dare you.’ His eyes flickered with rage and surprise. I maintained my glare and eventually Ross backed down.
‘You’re right.’ He looked at the ground. I nodded and Tim started walking again.
‘I sincerely hope none of you ran. Just cause you couldn’t see a Z doesn’t mean they couldn’t see you.’ Right as he said this, one of the zombies moaned and started to run at us lopsidedly. We all stopped, the creature was most of a block away, but it was slowly figuring out what it was doing, and it was getting faster.
‘Shit, run!’ Tim said, breaking into a sprint. Without hesitation we ran after him. He turned left and we all skidded around the corner after him.