Fried Eggs

Want some fried egg... charms?

Making Charms

A few days ago I bought a lot of stuff to work with polymer clay. I  love this stuff! I've been making little charms for cell phone straps. Since my Vasculitis limits what I can do physically, it is nice to have something else to do while in a resting position.  These are the charms I made.

A Faery's Tale

First in a series of interconnected drabbles about the magical misadventures of Zehodain Halifax half-breed Faery,fighting to protect the human realm from the life sucking Vhalic

Attack

                The attack happened in the space between one moment and the next. One moment she had been enjoying a peaceful walk to school and the next there a dagger buried hilt deep in the ground at her feet.  Zehodain sighed. She had known it was coming, she had been sensing her attacker for the past week, but she had been hoping… “You couldn’t have waited until my first day of college was over?”

                Sighing again, she shook her head as she bent down to pluck the knife from the ground. She flipped and caught it by the blade before she sent it flying back in the direction it came from. Her hypersensitive ears could hear it trimming stray leaves as it flew through the woods, seconds before she heard the telling thud as it buried into a tree.

                A feminine laugh echoed through the trees. This particular area of the woods was a valley, as the old river the used to run through it had diverted onto a new path. It left behind a large gorge that time had seen fit to fill in with trees and wildlife.  Still, sound bounced off the high dirt walls like a tennis balls bounced around tennis-courts.

                “You have good aim.”

                Zehodain turned to face the voice’s owner.  She was hardly impressive looking. At roughly five and a half feet, she was almost a foot shorter than her, with a round, child-like face. Large green eyes dominated most of it, giving her a youthful, almost angelic, appearance. A rapidly healing cut ran parallel to her left eye, made by the knife now firmly gripped in the woman’s right hand.

                “I almost would have had to fight you with one eye.” She smiled and flipped an errant blond curl over her shoulder.  She had a mass of them falling down past her collarbones and completing the look of wide-eyed innocence. Zehodain wasn’t fooled. “It’s a good thing that I was able to dodge it. I would have looked a little weird with one green eye and one blue one.”

Because she would have torn out one of Zehodain’s to replace it.  Lovely. “I don’t think a Fae eye would respond well to being in the body of a Vhalic anyway,” she stated dryly.

The woman smiled faintly. “But you’re not fully Fae, now are you?”

The origins of her birth were hardly secret, but for one of the Vhalic to know about it, someone had to have done some research.  She shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Well, it can hardly been anything else.” The woman shifted her weight suddenly and threw herself into a swift lunge. Zehodain dropped on to her back leg as she drew on her magic reflexively.  Glowing, iridescent runes flashed briefly across her skin as she threw up her right hand. She finished summoning her own weapon in the nick of time, her own blade materializing in her hand to protect her neck.  The blades squealed as they clashed and steel slid against steel only to lock together briefly.

Zehodain used the blonde’s extended reach to her advantage and pushed down with her own blade clearing a path for a hard left hook against her jaw. The woman flew to the right a several paces but she recovered quickly and used her momentum to flip head over feet. She landed in a crouch, one foot behind her to slow her skid.  Blood coated teeth bared into a vicious grin. “I thought this was going to be boring. Now, I think that this is going to be much more fun than I thought.”

Zehodain gave a slight smirk of her own as she fell into an answering crouch. “You have no idea.”

Directing My Creativity

               I'm one of those people who have an annoying tendency to not finish things. I start out with the best of intentions, but, low an behold, my projects fall to the wayside. Even as I write this my mind is going to the otome game that I have on my phone, awaiting me. It might be from a lack of motivation or a lack of focus, or a combination of the two, but even now I have to force myself to finish this part of this post.
               Horrible, I know.
               Since high school I've had grand delusions of writing and publishing best-selling novels and creating epic masterpieces that would surpass faulty, generational memory. Ten years later, although I am no closer to publishing a novel than I was back then, I still have my grand delusions. Naturally, my good intentions still claim that I am going to write out legendary adventures and draw my masterpieces.
              Today, however, I come with a plan. Can you call yourself a writer, if you never write? I don't believe so. So, from today on out, I plan to write at least a thousand words a day. Hopefully, with a little help, by the end of next year, I'll have a book... or not. Oh look, a bird.