I have finished my two on-blog stories. Now I will have to type them out of the blog... ugh. I am going to need help from our loyal President Fantasy...
-Tiger
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
The Beginning of Something (Not the End)
Hey! This will probably be the beginning of either Flash of Lightning or Rising Waters, so I thought I'd write it on here. Be sure to comment and tell me what you think. It's a bit of a different style than normal Astia, so it might work, or it might not. I don't know.
Some legends are not.
Now, how many legends begin with abandoning a child on a mountaintop? The soldier who is told by a jealous monarch to kill the young prince, but doesn't have the heart, and so he leaves him to the wolves. But a wandering shepherd takes him in, and raises him as his own child, until he learns who he is and returns to claim his throne.
Well, number one, the child wasn't a prince.
The soldiers dragged along the dirty, ragged orphan boy. There wasn't much of a need -- he was coming along fairly quietly, but the soldiers had been given a job. Still, there was a dangerous glint in the boy's green eyes, and the armed men kept at an almost frightened distance from him.
Number two: The orders were not from a jealous king.
However, the orders had been to kill him. Of course, the soldiers had no intention of doing that. Not out of an overly soft heart, but a sense of self-preservation. They wanted as little to do with the boy as possible. The wolves will take care of him, they assured themselves.
One of the men pushed him into the clearing. The morning mist shrouded the air, the dark green branches barely visible beyond. The boy got to his feet, brushing himself off with a strange level of dignity. His eyes never once left the soldiers.
"You're making a mistake," he said softly. Both men shuddered. "You should follow orders. You should kill me." He raised both hands, as if beckoning them to stab him. They both stepped back, and ran in a moment. The boy paused, then sank to his knees.
Number three: He was not found by a wandering shepherd.
But here is the extraordinary fact, the fact that seems impossible, especially in the wild mountains of Astia. But it did happen.
The boy lived.
He was the first one of them to survive beyond the age of twelve. But he was right: the soldiers had made a mistake to leave him to the wild. The wild learned to be scared of him, and avoid him, if they wanted to live. How he did survive, no one is quite sure. But I think the most likely reason of all is that he, unlike the rest of his kind, never lost the will to live. The boy without a name had a burning desire to do something. Perhaps it came from his parentage, I don't know. But he wanted to be part of something -- a story, maybe. Possibly he wanted to prove himself wrong; that the soldiers shouldn't have killed them, or maybe to prove himself right, that they should have. He had an impossible longing to live, no matter what he did with his life.
Then again, there is another possibility as to why he survived. And this is it:
He gave himself a name.
Rather, he borrowed the name that some children had called him once. This strengthened his belief that he was worth something. He had a name, so he had an identity.
And that is where our story begins: with the boy who called himself Drift. It is true, I assure you. I have sources, reliable sources. I began where I best could; it is maybe not the beginning, but it is the correct place to start. This tale is not about him, it is about an elf named Rea. But we'll start with Drift, I think.
Where else would I start?
There. Hope you liked it. And now, for your viewing pleasure, a picture of Connie in front of Whit's End. I know she looks just a bit weird, but it's an older picture of her. There are newer pictures of her, but this is the middle version.
And now, the promised link to: http://www.whitsend.org/radio/ Listen to the first episode on there. (Just click on any of the Listen Online links underneath the names of the episodes. They're all awesome (but some more awesome than others!). Just don't listen to the Green Ring Conspiracy numbers 11 or 12. You haven't gotten there yet.
As James the Intern says, "Over and out. For this episode." (This isn't an episode, but, you know, same difference...)
-President Fantasy
The Boy Without a Name
Some legends are true. I of all people should know that by now. After all, I am writing the story of a legend, and I believe in it entirely. Of course, I was there. I met Rea. But those alive now, some do not believe. And so I write this to them, whether they believe it or not; so they at last hear the tale.Some legends are not.
Now, how many legends begin with abandoning a child on a mountaintop? The soldier who is told by a jealous monarch to kill the young prince, but doesn't have the heart, and so he leaves him to the wolves. But a wandering shepherd takes him in, and raises him as his own child, until he learns who he is and returns to claim his throne.
Well, number one, the child wasn't a prince.
The soldiers dragged along the dirty, ragged orphan boy. There wasn't much of a need -- he was coming along fairly quietly, but the soldiers had been given a job. Still, there was a dangerous glint in the boy's green eyes, and the armed men kept at an almost frightened distance from him.
Number two: The orders were not from a jealous king.
However, the orders had been to kill him. Of course, the soldiers had no intention of doing that. Not out of an overly soft heart, but a sense of self-preservation. They wanted as little to do with the boy as possible. The wolves will take care of him, they assured themselves.
One of the men pushed him into the clearing. The morning mist shrouded the air, the dark green branches barely visible beyond. The boy got to his feet, brushing himself off with a strange level of dignity. His eyes never once left the soldiers.
"You're making a mistake," he said softly. Both men shuddered. "You should follow orders. You should kill me." He raised both hands, as if beckoning them to stab him. They both stepped back, and ran in a moment. The boy paused, then sank to his knees.
Number three: He was not found by a wandering shepherd.
But here is the extraordinary fact, the fact that seems impossible, especially in the wild mountains of Astia. But it did happen.
The boy lived.
He was the first one of them to survive beyond the age of twelve. But he was right: the soldiers had made a mistake to leave him to the wild. The wild learned to be scared of him, and avoid him, if they wanted to live. How he did survive, no one is quite sure. But I think the most likely reason of all is that he, unlike the rest of his kind, never lost the will to live. The boy without a name had a burning desire to do something. Perhaps it came from his parentage, I don't know. But he wanted to be part of something -- a story, maybe. Possibly he wanted to prove himself wrong; that the soldiers shouldn't have killed them, or maybe to prove himself right, that they should have. He had an impossible longing to live, no matter what he did with his life.
Then again, there is another possibility as to why he survived. And this is it:
He gave himself a name.
Rather, he borrowed the name that some children had called him once. This strengthened his belief that he was worth something. He had a name, so he had an identity.
And that is where our story begins: with the boy who called himself Drift. It is true, I assure you. I have sources, reliable sources. I began where I best could; it is maybe not the beginning, but it is the correct place to start. This tale is not about him, it is about an elf named Rea. But we'll start with Drift, I think.
Where else would I start?
There. Hope you liked it. And now, for your viewing pleasure, a picture of Connie in front of Whit's End. I know she looks just a bit weird, but it's an older picture of her. There are newer pictures of her, but this is the middle version.
And now, the promised link to: http://www.whitsend.org/radio/ Listen to the first episode on there. (Just click on any of the Listen Online links underneath the names of the episodes. They're all awesome (but some more awesome than others!). Just don't listen to the Green Ring Conspiracy numbers 11 or 12. You haven't gotten there yet.
As James the Intern says, "Over and out. For this episode." (This isn't an episode, but, you know, same difference...)
-President Fantasy
Saturday, May 28, 2011
A Pointless Tale
Need I say more?
A boy named Off Roads sat down and told them about the control board of the flashing red button. "Pushing it should take us back to the argument that is entitling it for your part in Latin Federal law."
"Thank you. That made a lot of sense," they answered.
Immediately all the FBI agents ran off to the control board and pushed the flashing red button. But all it did was made them argue, for some reason. Then a strange man walked in the door.
"I'm a Latin Federal law enforcer," he said in Latin. "And I'm afraid you'll have to come with me." For some reason, he had a toga on. The agents didn't understand him and tried to just walk away, so the Latin Federal law enforcer, or "Roman policeman" as they are sometimes called, was forced to knock them out.
Then he ran to find Off Roads. "Buck, my boy," he panted, this time in English with a southern accent. "That was an amazing trap! Now those FBI agents are out of our hair. Let's go steal the Hope Diamond!"
"Whatever you say, Mr. Skint," Buck replied in an equally southern accent. The two sneaked off to the museum where the Hope Diamond was being currently held. The instant that they grabbed the diamond, however, alarms went off. Mr. Skint solved this problem by immediately smashing the alarm sound box.
"Good thinking, Mr. Skint!" Buck said admiringly, slinging the diamond in his knapsack.
"Always consider every possibility, Buck my boy," Mr. Skint answered, running as fast as his legs would take him. They hitched a ride on an airplane and stowed away in the luggage compartment.
Finally they arrived in a place called Odyssey. Just then they got a call on their cell phone.
"Hello?" The voice was female. "Is this Mr. Notch?"
"No. Who is this?" Buck asked, confused.
"Hope. Hope Riley," she replied. "Who's this?"
"Buck my boy -- I mean, Buck Oliver."
"I don't know you. What are you doing with this phone?"
Buck decided to fling the phone out the window of the bus, creating a cell phone-shaped hole. But then a teenager came running through, glanced over his shoulder, and grinned.
"I was never here," he informed Mr. Skint and Buck. Then he jumped out the window.
"Percy Jackson!" called a voice, and a girl with blond hair came running through. She looked mildly familiar. "For a daughter of Athena, he sure got me good," she muttered to herself. She saw the Percy-shaped hole in the window and sighed. She jumped through too, creating a teenage girl shaped hole.
Buck and Mr. Skint followed, removing the window altogether.
"Voldemort!" cried a voice. "You killed my parents! Prepare to die!"
Mr. Skint and Buck whirled around to face a teenager with black hair and glasses, along with a red-haired boy and a girl.
"I think not," Voldemort replied. "You shall die!"
He blasted the black-haired kid, who fell backward. The other kids with him yelled, "HARRY! Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!"
Mr. Skint and Buck decided to get out of there. This town was just too weird. But then...
"I HAVE THE POWER SPRAYER!"
An evil-looking man jumped out of an alleyway. Finally, someone they knew. Or had heard about.
"Dr. Regis Blackgaard!" they both exclaimed.
And ran.
Some strange things you can watch in amazement. Some strange things you can laugh at. Some strange things you can run very far away from.
Is that the moral of this story? In fact, does this pointless story have a point without trying to make a point?
Nah.
-President Fantasy :)
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Last Post for Today, I Promise!
I just wanted to show you guys this awesome cover art I made for A Text to Save the World. Click on it to see it bigger. It's kind of a joke, but it's pretty cool too.
Isn't it...interesting? Okay, last post, I mean it!
-President Fantasy
-President Fantasy
I, President Fantasy, Have Something to Say
I don't know what I'm going to say. Just that I'm going to say something.
I kid, I kid. In fact, I'm going to show you a poem. Here's the context for the poem (a little excerpt from A Compendium of Astian History):
"Of the poems in Astian history, one of the most famous ones is The Call of Astia. This poem is actually anonymous. All we know is that it was written by an Aftur exile. In fact, this is debatable; while most people claim that it was written by an exile from Astia, others claim it was written within Astia's borders, by various candidates, which include the famous Ramcol Brown. But as the poem refers to the writer losing Astia, this is probably an exile. It could be Ramcol, but actually, any poem that has any reference to losing anything, someone claims it is written by Ramcol about Rea the elf. We have no proof for that, but as it is an anonymous poem, we will never know. Astians are continually touched by this old poem. It gives them pity for exiles, and shows that even they have remorse. Here is the poem in its entirety:
-President Fantasy
What? You didn't think you'd get away without your daily dose of Odyssey, did you?
I kid, I kid. In fact, I'm going to show you a poem. Here's the context for the poem (a little excerpt from A Compendium of Astian History):
"Of the poems in Astian history, one of the most famous ones is The Call of Astia. This poem is actually anonymous. All we know is that it was written by an Aftur exile. In fact, this is debatable; while most people claim that it was written by an exile from Astia, others claim it was written within Astia's borders, by various candidates, which include the famous Ramcol Brown. But as the poem refers to the writer losing Astia, this is probably an exile. It could be Ramcol, but actually, any poem that has any reference to losing anything, someone claims it is written by Ramcol about Rea the elf. We have no proof for that, but as it is an anonymous poem, we will never know. Astians are continually touched by this old poem. It gives them pity for exiles, and shows that even they have remorse. Here is the poem in its entirety:
Against the odds, I missed the call;
I lost my life, I took the fall;
And through the years, I’ve realized;
Without you near, my life has died.
I’ll never make this slip again;
I’ve lost the world of other men.
I lost Astia, lost my heart;
Lost ev’ry single noble part.
Perhaps I don’t deserve a place,
In Aftur, the end of the race;
Sent away, and yet now I know
The glory of Astia’s glow.
Against the odds, I missed the call;
I lost my life, I took the fall;
And I will never forget the call:
Forgive me, precious, for my fall."
All for now. But, in the words of Dr. Regis Blackgaard, "You haven't seen the last of me...not by a long shot."
 |
| Whit, Eugene, and Connie |
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Caleb should not be able to comment!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-Dreamer
-Dreamer
President Fantasy did not finish
-Dreamer
Tales of an Orthodontist Victim
Hello, loyal friends. I am here today to tell you about the woes of a kid under orthodontic treatment.
Braces hurt like heck, but you can get used to them. Headgear is annoying, but life goes on. However, a RETAINER WILL KILL YOU!!! I'm dying, dear friends. Tiger, you can have all of my books and Adventures in Odyssey albums, except for The Green Ring Conspiracy. Horse Love can have that. Please take good care of them. Lauren, you can have my various stuffed animals scattered around, and my various artwork. Dreamer can have...whatever's left. My clothes, I guess.
I can't talk with this derned thing! Oh, horror! Oh, tempora! Oh, mores! Oh, qui potest habere retainer? Nullae personae, ita vero!
Oh...someone, please, help me...Please...
-President Fantasy
Braces hurt like heck, but you can get used to them. Headgear is annoying, but life goes on. However, a RETAINER WILL KILL YOU!!! I'm dying, dear friends. Tiger, you can have all of my books and Adventures in Odyssey albums, except for The Green Ring Conspiracy. Horse Love can have that. Please take good care of them. Lauren, you can have my various stuffed animals scattered around, and my various artwork. Dreamer can have...whatever's left. My clothes, I guess.
I can't talk with this derned thing! Oh, horror! Oh, tempora! Oh, mores! Oh, qui potest habere retainer? Nullae personae, ita vero!
Oh...someone, please, help me...Please...
-President Fantasy
American Idol
This is my post for the day...SCOTTY WON AMERICAN IDOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't belive it! Oh yeah, oh yeah... oh, and while I am thinking about it, Nancy Drew and the Legend of the Crystal Skull is so CREEPY! Ugh, I actually had a nightmare last night with " the Skeleton Man " in it after we played the game. No lie! I will have to type more later on my stories because I am going with Mom to do errands. See you all later!
-Tiger
-Tiger
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
the end of chaper 1!!!
ok peeps!!!! this is the end of the chapter I was giving you before ok now that I wasted your time here it goes!!!
Straight to work Lilaque went went. She immediately opened the book and started to read. Her finger touched the name of an old character in the book. Suddenly these weird voices were dancing around in her head." And that's why I hate cotton cand--- hey look someone touched your name Daniel" a really high pitched voice squeaked "do you think she is the right one" a low pitched man grumbled"of course silly no one ever touches your name anymore" the squeaky voice told the low pitched man "well then let's let her in".Then everything froze! That's all for now peeps!!!
-Dreamer
Straight to work Lilaque went went. She immediately opened the book and started to read. Her finger touched the name of an old character in the book. Suddenly these weird voices were dancing around in her head." And that's why I hate cotton cand--- hey look someone touched your name Daniel" a really high pitched voice squeaked "do you think she is the right one" a low pitched man grumbled"of course silly no one ever touches your name anymore" the squeaky voice told the low pitched man "well then let's let her in".Then everything froze! That's all for now peeps!!!
-Dreamer
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Notch the Magnificent
Weird title, huh? Well, this has to do with Notch, but not Notch the Magnificent...hmm...better get my brain checked.
Anywho, these are some ideas I had for Our Untitled Story:
1. Notch says that he knew Flicker's dad, but in the end, he IS Flicker's dad!
2. Flicker thinks Notch is good, then evil, then good again.
3. The real bad guy is a smooth-talking lady named Simile. (pronounced sim-i-lee.)
4. The evil plot is actually the beginning of WORLD WAR III!
5. There's a gangster involved somehow.
All for now, peeps! Except for this picture.
I don't have that album. It isn't out yet. But I will have it...and it'll be awesome...go to www.whitsend.org for more AIO stuff. (Yeah, I know, I won't shut up about Odyssey. But it's awesome. Listen.)
-President Fantasy
Anywho, these are some ideas I had for Our Untitled Story:
1. Notch says that he knew Flicker's dad, but in the end, he IS Flicker's dad!
2. Flicker thinks Notch is good, then evil, then good again.
3. The real bad guy is a smooth-talking lady named Simile. (pronounced sim-i-lee.)
4. The evil plot is actually the beginning of WORLD WAR III!
5. There's a gangster involved somehow.
All for now, peeps! Except for this picture.
 | |
| AIO Album 54: Clanging Cymbals Album Art |
-President Fantasy
This is Not a Story Ad
This is an advertisement for my book. This is part of the first chapter. I think it's really good. Please make comments in the bottom. Hard criticism, hard, please!!! lol
This is Not a Story Chapter 1
One horrible stormy afternoon Lilaque was sitting in a chair looking on eBay. She was trying to find something to free her boredom. She was sure she was never going to find anything interesting. Her boredom was so fierce she thought she would burst. Finally she saw something that caught her eye. It was a book called a most peculiar name.
“This is Not a Story?” she read. “Maybe there is a description…nope, no description…there is the number to call if you want to buy it. Maybe I do want to buy it…no. I don’t think so. Maybe…no. Maybe…OK, yes.”
She found herself dialing the number that was on the bottom of the picture.
Finally the day arrived that she was getting the book; and then came a knock.
Yes! She thought. “Hello, welcome,” she said.
“Hello to you too. Here’s your book. We couldn’t keep it anymore. Thank you so much for buying it. We really have to get to a concert really soon, sorry, but we really have to leave.”
“Bye!” the people said.
“Bye!” Lilaque yelled as the people got into the car.
That's it. Remember, HARD criticism!
-Dreamer
this is for you Horse Love this is all for you!!! lol
hey Horse Love do you remember this, it's when we were making previews for our books it is so funny. Tiger your voice what happened you are so young and your hair is CUTE!!! I absolutely love the summery feel in this video you have to watch it. It brings back good times (in summer). Hope you like it!!! lol =) (look sideways it's a smiley face)
-Dreamer
-Dreamer
Story of heartattack [one of my fish]
This is the story of heartattack, and no it invovels no humans well one but ,oh never mind that, anways heartattack was born in Dragon Lagoon in the year of the great sacrifice, like any normal fish his mother and father left him and his 300 sibling in the care of a nanny fish [a female fish who tacks care of the fishlings will they are young.]she would tack care of them in till they are one year of age.Untill there comeing of age they will not see their birth parents.Heartattack's nanny fish was mean and ugly she hated Heartatact, out of the 300 fishlings she hated him the most. Heatattack had 40 friends but only one was a friend he wanted to know more about, his name was Bonzi .He was so wild and fun, he and Heartattack were best friends they did evreting together evean playing tricks on the nanny fish miss Kelply Shorse .
Hey its Horse Love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am ready to rumble!!!!!!!!! Hey Fantasy,great spot you got here...real nice .I like what I see ! Tiger showed me the ropes of this mighty fine place. I made my fish purple , black and red.They are so purty [P.S. Fantasy I am writing slang .] Hey I love the fish gag,, so can you put up so more stuff like that ? Oh and Fantasy... you can cange the color of the fish by going to the left hand corner of the page .But the fish on home will not. I must repeat NOT cange color on home page . So cool !!!!
-Horse Love
-Horse Love
Request for fishes
Hello! Horse Love and I were looking at the Feed the fish icon, and we were wondering if all of us could own 2 of the cute fishes. We could just "call" them our own, of course. We wouldn't actually own them. We could even write really short stories about them if you guys wanted! Thanks!
-Tiger
-Tiger
Chapter 2
The finished second Chapter of a Text to Save the World! I hope you enjoy it! :] sideways smiley face
Chapter 2
After a night of restless tossing and turning in bed, I woke up bleary eyed and yawning. I was in no mood to go to my school. As I walked [nearly tripped] downstairs, I was still thinking about Hope and Notch. How did they know me? Where did Hope "live"? How did they meet? All these questions and more rumbled throughout my head as I slowly consumed my brown sugar and blackberry oatmeal. Mom was busily getting my backpack and attacking my hair.
" Honey, what did you do to your hair? Did you sleep in a windstorm?"
I was too sleepy to answer back, so I settled for shaking my head.
" No... well, your backpack has your homework in it, HOPEFULLY finished... and your lunch is packed." I got to run. I'll meet you after school. I love you!"
Mom raced off and I nearly choked on my oatmeal. HOMEWORK! I didn't do it! My teacher would be so mad! So, as I grabbed my bag, I took out my binder and found my homework paper. Yes! It was my Latin homework! Piece of cake, I thought. I jotted down all the answers, and stuffed it back into my cluttered bag.
Then I zoomed upstairs, changed, brushed my teeth and came back downstairs. Soon I was on the little sidewalk heading to my school, bag slung over my shoulder, and that odd phone in my hand. It wasn't new, certianly, but it wasn't old either. It was like... in between. I checked the owner's name on it. It could be anybody's phone, I guess. It could be Notch's... yeah, that kind of makes sense. Oh snap, It couldn't be him. If this was his phone, the name on the top of the text would be the owner of the other phone. Unless he had two phones... never mind. What about Hope? She gave the phone to me. She could have given me her old model, and she could buy herself a newer one... or Notch could have bought a new phone for her, I thought I finally decided to stop shooting ideas down and actually read the dumb name. It was Hope Riley's phone. I suppose I saw that coming. It made sense, at least. I checked her recent texts. Notch was there, and a few people I didn't know. She hadn't texted those few that were unknown in a long time. So this might really be solid proof that Hope teamed up with Notch. Or was forced to. I mean, Notch didn't sound like that cool guy from the end of the block. More like that gentleman in the house right next to yours, and whose belongings are all antiques.
Anyway, I was still fiddling around on the phone when I arrived at school. [I don't live very far from it.] The bell rang, and everyone rushed inside, talking and pushing, so much so that I almost dropped the phone. Soon I was racing down the hall to my first class; Math. In my haste to get inside and not be late, I still had the phone in my hand. As my notebooks and test papers went inside my desk, so did the phone, and class started.
I always dread Math as my first class, because it sends me into a sleepy trance from our strict teacher- Miss. Cumber. From this trance like state, I can almost be 100% sure I am going to get a C on my next assignment. Today, we were still studying percents, my worse aspect in Algebra. Last time, my test came back as a D; a fail. I groaned inside my head. I was just dying, hoping I could be put out of my misery when...BEEP. I jumped a little in my seat. I stared around the room, hoping to see where the sound was coming from, as were my peers. BEEP. This time I knew where the sound was coming from. My desk. No, please no... I thought, but to no avail. As I looked inside, the phone was displaying-NEW TEXT MESSAGE. Mrs. Cumber and her hawk-like-eyes pierced the room, searching for where the source of the sound was. Her eyes lay upon my desk. She walked over to me and I keep thinking... I am SO doomed... then, she talked straight to me, and there was no trace of drone-like quality now.
" What do you have in your desk, Flicker? [No matter what, she always called me by my full name.] Something you wished to hide from us, hm?"
She leaned in close, and I sould smell her peppermint toothpaste.
" Hand it over...now!"
I grabbed my phone and gave it to her, but not willingly. Mrs. Cumber wasn't as strict about cellphones in class, but she had a nasty habit of reading the message aloud, or answering the call. I had a funny feeling this was NOT a message I wanted read aloud. Just as she was going to read, the intercom sounded,
" Flicker Peterson to the principal's office, I repeat, Flicker to the principal's office. Thank you."
I couldn't belive it. I was free! I jumped up, grabbed my bag and quickly said a good-bye to my teacher [ who by the way, looked like a fish out of water when I left. Ha! I tore down the hall, and heard a few teachers screech," No running in the hallway!"
Good -bye, Miss Cumber, I thought as I reached the principal's office. I was panting really hard, so I put my hands on my knees and took deep breaths. Once I could breathe properly, I realized I knew the voice in the office, but I couldn't belive it. I put my ear in the lock and listened.
" Yes, Flicker has a family emergency, and he has to go right away."
" Yeah, our Grandma just died. He really loved her a lot. We are going to California to attend her funeral."
Yep, I knew that voice. Hope Riley.
" We will be back next week. Thank you, bye."
Before I got slammed by the door, I jumped out of the way, and Hope came striding out- followed by a tall guy I didn't know. Hope looked pretty much the same; just some different clothes, and her hair was tied in a ponytail, neatly washed and brushed. The man looked like a Secret Service agent who had retired, [ because he wasn't with the President of course], though he didn't seem to know he had. His hair was dark brown, kind of a mahogany. It was a bit long, going only to the nape of his neck, and it was rather flat- but it looked all right. I couldn't tell you what his eyes looked like, because I couldn't see them myself. [ He had his shades on. Classy.] The man leaned over and grabbed my arm and steered me out me out of the school doors, all the while saying things like...
" How was Math today, son? Was Mrs. Cumber a pain in the neck like usual?"
I just stared up at him like he had grown an extra head. Son? I was not his son. My Dad is in the Army, you see. He is a general, so he's always at the Army base. He never comes to visit me because his job is so important. Sometimes I get angry because when the Army men come back from base, I look around, but my dad isn't there. Other times I feel proud that he has such and important position. All I knew, was that this guy was NOT my dad.
Finally we reached the car, and all I can say is that I LOVE IT! It was a huge Hummer, jet-black and oh so cool. The windows were grey, made for seeing out, not in. On the top, a long array of lights were placed, used for really dark nights when you are alone on the long strech of road. [ If you weren't alone, you would blind the person coming on the side of the lane. I am almost positive that that would happen. In the end, lots of disater and choas would insue.] It's headlights were also big. It was the best car I have ever seen. Hope stopped when she reached it, but I was looking at every inch of that car, looking for the maker's symbol. I was going to tell my mom about this car, and tell her to get one. I want it! When I gave up on the search for the symbol that wasn't there, I turned to Hope.
" Who made this beautiful car?" I asked.
" It was specially made for us." Hope replied.
I had a feeling she wasn't going to elaborate, so I stopped with the questions and tried the door handle. Locked. I asked Hope," Do you have the keys?"
" No. Mr. Notch always keeps them."
" Wait, wait, wait. So that guy you were with was NOTCH!?"
"... I shouldn't have said that."
" No, but I am glad you did."
" I bet you are."
[ There was a long pause.]
" So... how did you meet Notch?"
" That is classified information."
" Yeah... right..."
" What? It is! You can't just know everything when you first come with us!"
"What do you mean?"
" ...you didn't hear anything."
" So how come I heard it?"
" Urgh!"
Hope crossed her arms and glared at me for a second before she turned towards the school and looked at the front doors, proably half expecting Notch to come out and exclaim," Nope, this isn't the kid we wanted. This boy is too annoying." She was talking to me as though I was just an odd kid to be ignored. Well, I 've dealt with people like that before. The people who considered Flicker to be beneath their notice. Huh. I guess you're wondering why these people did this. I might as well tell you.
Like I said before, my Dad is in the Army. At first, kids would ask me questions about him like... "What rank is your Dad?" "What is his name?" " Was he in a war?" Stuff like that. But after a while, they weren't interested, and they discovered what I was like. I'm sort of shy, not very outspoken or anything like that. I also have learned 4 languages: Latin, French, Hebrew and Greek. I guess I'm pretty smart too, because I get A's and B's. My classmates must think that I am a teacher's pet. [Which is not true by the way.] I can also be a history nerd. I love learning about Greeks and Romans, Isrealites and French. Ask me a question about these people and I can usually answer it. In the end, I became Flick the Oddball, or The History Nerd, or Flicker the Shy Guy. Take your pick.
At last, Notch came back. I was still kind of shocked that this guy was Notch. I was expecting a Barty Crouch like character. [ President Fantasy, I will remove that later, but I had to put it in. It was so funny!] You know, toothbrush mustache, if you break the rules, you are dead, that sort of person. I mean, Notch kind of looked cool, almost. If you considered Secret Service to be cool. As we got in the car, I realized Hope didn't get in the front seat. She must have not had the power to go there, and to sit by " Mr. Notch". No matter the circumstances, I was not going to Hope's level and calling him "Mr. Notch." I would never do that and if by accident I did, I would be so ashamed of myself I would change my name to Larry and live the rest of my days as an old hermit.
When we got inside the car, I had a million questions. The first came out as," Are you really Notch?"
Slowly, he nodded. Another question flew out of my mouth," How did you two team up?"
Notch didn't respond. I had feeling there was only so much I could ask of him. Hope then leaned forward and whispered,"You are lucky. When he first met me, I didn't get anything out of him."
I noticed that her tone wasn't so friendly. More like... where is a word when I need it... jealous. That's it. Jealous. I couldn't believe it. Did she want to be me, getting one silly question answered? Getting whisked away from torture, but not knowing why? Hmph. I wasn't going to argue. I decided to do what I usually do in cars; read. I took out my Greek vocabulary book and practiced the words in my head. I was so interested in my book that I didn't realize that Hope was reading over my shoulder until she spoke.
" What does that word mean?'' she asked me, her voice no longer jealous. I jumped a little at the sound of her voice.
" It means " peace." Oh, and that one means " war". Oh, and you have to know this one! It means..."
From there we went, me teaching her Greek, and she following along. It helped me get over the never-ending car ride. By the time we stopped [hopefully not by a red light] she had devolped quite a nack for learning Greek. She told me in the car ride she already knew Latin, and I was heartened. Finally, something in common between us! So just as I was about to tell her the word for "hope", her name, the car gave a jerk and Notch got out, still silent. Hope got out right after him. I opened my car door, about to ask another question I wanted to tell Notch, but words failed me as I beheld the warehouse.
-Tiger
Chapter 2
After a night of restless tossing and turning in bed, I woke up bleary eyed and yawning. I was in no mood to go to my school. As I walked [nearly tripped] downstairs, I was still thinking about Hope and Notch. How did they know me? Where did Hope "live"? How did they meet? All these questions and more rumbled throughout my head as I slowly consumed my brown sugar and blackberry oatmeal. Mom was busily getting my backpack and attacking my hair.
" Honey, what did you do to your hair? Did you sleep in a windstorm?"
I was too sleepy to answer back, so I settled for shaking my head.
" No... well, your backpack has your homework in it, HOPEFULLY finished... and your lunch is packed." I got to run. I'll meet you after school. I love you!"
Mom raced off and I nearly choked on my oatmeal. HOMEWORK! I didn't do it! My teacher would be so mad! So, as I grabbed my bag, I took out my binder and found my homework paper. Yes! It was my Latin homework! Piece of cake, I thought. I jotted down all the answers, and stuffed it back into my cluttered bag.
Then I zoomed upstairs, changed, brushed my teeth and came back downstairs. Soon I was on the little sidewalk heading to my school, bag slung over my shoulder, and that odd phone in my hand. It wasn't new, certianly, but it wasn't old either. It was like... in between. I checked the owner's name on it. It could be anybody's phone, I guess. It could be Notch's... yeah, that kind of makes sense. Oh snap, It couldn't be him. If this was his phone, the name on the top of the text would be the owner of the other phone. Unless he had two phones... never mind. What about Hope? She gave the phone to me. She could have given me her old model, and she could buy herself a newer one... or Notch could have bought a new phone for her, I thought I finally decided to stop shooting ideas down and actually read the dumb name. It was Hope Riley's phone. I suppose I saw that coming. It made sense, at least. I checked her recent texts. Notch was there, and a few people I didn't know. She hadn't texted those few that were unknown in a long time. So this might really be solid proof that Hope teamed up with Notch. Or was forced to. I mean, Notch didn't sound like that cool guy from the end of the block. More like that gentleman in the house right next to yours, and whose belongings are all antiques.
Anyway, I was still fiddling around on the phone when I arrived at school. [I don't live very far from it.] The bell rang, and everyone rushed inside, talking and pushing, so much so that I almost dropped the phone. Soon I was racing down the hall to my first class; Math. In my haste to get inside and not be late, I still had the phone in my hand. As my notebooks and test papers went inside my desk, so did the phone, and class started.
I always dread Math as my first class, because it sends me into a sleepy trance from our strict teacher- Miss. Cumber. From this trance like state, I can almost be 100% sure I am going to get a C on my next assignment. Today, we were still studying percents, my worse aspect in Algebra. Last time, my test came back as a D; a fail. I groaned inside my head. I was just dying, hoping I could be put out of my misery when...BEEP. I jumped a little in my seat. I stared around the room, hoping to see where the sound was coming from, as were my peers. BEEP. This time I knew where the sound was coming from. My desk. No, please no... I thought, but to no avail. As I looked inside, the phone was displaying-NEW TEXT MESSAGE. Mrs. Cumber and her hawk-like-eyes pierced the room, searching for where the source of the sound was. Her eyes lay upon my desk. She walked over to me and I keep thinking... I am SO doomed... then, she talked straight to me, and there was no trace of drone-like quality now.
" What do you have in your desk, Flicker? [No matter what, she always called me by my full name.] Something you wished to hide from us, hm?"
She leaned in close, and I sould smell her peppermint toothpaste.
" Hand it over...now!"
I grabbed my phone and gave it to her, but not willingly. Mrs. Cumber wasn't as strict about cellphones in class, but she had a nasty habit of reading the message aloud, or answering the call. I had a funny feeling this was NOT a message I wanted read aloud. Just as she was going to read, the intercom sounded,
" Flicker Peterson to the principal's office, I repeat, Flicker to the principal's office. Thank you."
I couldn't belive it. I was free! I jumped up, grabbed my bag and quickly said a good-bye to my teacher [ who by the way, looked like a fish out of water when I left. Ha! I tore down the hall, and heard a few teachers screech," No running in the hallway!"
Good -bye, Miss Cumber, I thought as I reached the principal's office. I was panting really hard, so I put my hands on my knees and took deep breaths. Once I could breathe properly, I realized I knew the voice in the office, but I couldn't belive it. I put my ear in the lock and listened.
" Yes, Flicker has a family emergency, and he has to go right away."
" Yeah, our Grandma just died. He really loved her a lot. We are going to California to attend her funeral."
Yep, I knew that voice. Hope Riley.
" We will be back next week. Thank you, bye."
Before I got slammed by the door, I jumped out of the way, and Hope came striding out- followed by a tall guy I didn't know. Hope looked pretty much the same; just some different clothes, and her hair was tied in a ponytail, neatly washed and brushed. The man looked like a Secret Service agent who had retired, [ because he wasn't with the President of course], though he didn't seem to know he had. His hair was dark brown, kind of a mahogany. It was a bit long, going only to the nape of his neck, and it was rather flat- but it looked all right. I couldn't tell you what his eyes looked like, because I couldn't see them myself. [ He had his shades on. Classy.] The man leaned over and grabbed my arm and steered me out me out of the school doors, all the while saying things like...
" How was Math today, son? Was Mrs. Cumber a pain in the neck like usual?"
I just stared up at him like he had grown an extra head. Son? I was not his son. My Dad is in the Army, you see. He is a general, so he's always at the Army base. He never comes to visit me because his job is so important. Sometimes I get angry because when the Army men come back from base, I look around, but my dad isn't there. Other times I feel proud that he has such and important position. All I knew, was that this guy was NOT my dad.
Finally we reached the car, and all I can say is that I LOVE IT! It was a huge Hummer, jet-black and oh so cool. The windows were grey, made for seeing out, not in. On the top, a long array of lights were placed, used for really dark nights when you are alone on the long strech of road. [ If you weren't alone, you would blind the person coming on the side of the lane. I am almost positive that that would happen. In the end, lots of disater and choas would insue.] It's headlights were also big. It was the best car I have ever seen. Hope stopped when she reached it, but I was looking at every inch of that car, looking for the maker's symbol. I was going to tell my mom about this car, and tell her to get one. I want it! When I gave up on the search for the symbol that wasn't there, I turned to Hope.
" Who made this beautiful car?" I asked.
" It was specially made for us." Hope replied.
I had a feeling she wasn't going to elaborate, so I stopped with the questions and tried the door handle. Locked. I asked Hope," Do you have the keys?"
" No. Mr. Notch always keeps them."
" Wait, wait, wait. So that guy you were with was NOTCH!?"
"... I shouldn't have said that."
" No, but I am glad you did."
" I bet you are."
[ There was a long pause.]
" So... how did you meet Notch?"
" That is classified information."
" Yeah... right..."
" What? It is! You can't just know everything when you first come with us!"
"What do you mean?"
" ...you didn't hear anything."
" So how come I heard it?"
" Urgh!"
Hope crossed her arms and glared at me for a second before she turned towards the school and looked at the front doors, proably half expecting Notch to come out and exclaim," Nope, this isn't the kid we wanted. This boy is too annoying." She was talking to me as though I was just an odd kid to be ignored. Well, I 've dealt with people like that before. The people who considered Flicker to be beneath their notice. Huh. I guess you're wondering why these people did this. I might as well tell you.
Like I said before, my Dad is in the Army. At first, kids would ask me questions about him like... "What rank is your Dad?" "What is his name?" " Was he in a war?" Stuff like that. But after a while, they weren't interested, and they discovered what I was like. I'm sort of shy, not very outspoken or anything like that. I also have learned 4 languages: Latin, French, Hebrew and Greek. I guess I'm pretty smart too, because I get A's and B's. My classmates must think that I am a teacher's pet. [Which is not true by the way.] I can also be a history nerd. I love learning about Greeks and Romans, Isrealites and French. Ask me a question about these people and I can usually answer it. In the end, I became Flick the Oddball, or The History Nerd, or Flicker the Shy Guy. Take your pick.
At last, Notch came back. I was still kind of shocked that this guy was Notch. I was expecting a Barty Crouch like character. [ President Fantasy, I will remove that later, but I had to put it in. It was so funny!] You know, toothbrush mustache, if you break the rules, you are dead, that sort of person. I mean, Notch kind of looked cool, almost. If you considered Secret Service to be cool. As we got in the car, I realized Hope didn't get in the front seat. She must have not had the power to go there, and to sit by " Mr. Notch". No matter the circumstances, I was not going to Hope's level and calling him "Mr. Notch." I would never do that and if by accident I did, I would be so ashamed of myself I would change my name to Larry and live the rest of my days as an old hermit.
When we got inside the car, I had a million questions. The first came out as," Are you really Notch?"
Slowly, he nodded. Another question flew out of my mouth," How did you two team up?"
Notch didn't respond. I had feeling there was only so much I could ask of him. Hope then leaned forward and whispered,"You are lucky. When he first met me, I didn't get anything out of him."
I noticed that her tone wasn't so friendly. More like... where is a word when I need it... jealous. That's it. Jealous. I couldn't believe it. Did she want to be me, getting one silly question answered? Getting whisked away from torture, but not knowing why? Hmph. I wasn't going to argue. I decided to do what I usually do in cars; read. I took out my Greek vocabulary book and practiced the words in my head. I was so interested in my book that I didn't realize that Hope was reading over my shoulder until she spoke.
" What does that word mean?'' she asked me, her voice no longer jealous. I jumped a little at the sound of her voice.
" It means " peace." Oh, and that one means " war". Oh, and you have to know this one! It means..."
From there we went, me teaching her Greek, and she following along. It helped me get over the never-ending car ride. By the time we stopped [hopefully not by a red light] she had devolped quite a nack for learning Greek. She told me in the car ride she already knew Latin, and I was heartened. Finally, something in common between us! So just as I was about to tell her the word for "hope", her name, the car gave a jerk and Notch got out, still silent. Hope got out right after him. I opened my car door, about to ask another question I wanted to tell Notch, but words failed me as I beheld the warehouse.
-Tiger
Our blog...WHAT HAPPENED?
Wow, President Fantasy! Look what you did! I love the dragon's eye, and a quote about a, "spark of brilliance will take you far", and I like the funny little "click to feed the fish" gag. And the voting poll, too. How did you do it? You work wonders, Sophie.
-Tiger
-Tiger
Monday, May 23, 2011
Poll
Hey, just a note to say, scroll down to the bottom of the screen. There's a poll for the best book ever. Vote, vote, vote! You only have seven days left.
-President Fantasy
-President Fantasy
Our Book and a Special Surprise!
Hey, guys, Fantasy here. Just wanted to remind you about the book that we're passing around. By the way, here are a few title ideas:
Against All Odds
A Text to Save the World
Well, that's all I've got. Tiger...remember to write Chapter 2! And Tiger, by the way, which Adventures in Odyssey album would you like to borrow? Daring Deeds Sinister Schemes, The Green Ring Conspiracy, or Other Times Other Places?
They're all good.
Oh, yeah, and after you post something, make sure to sign out. Has anybody had any problems posting so far?
The Green Ring Conspiracy pic is on there because it's awesome. Go to www.whitsend.org to listen to it. Or just borrow it from me. Yes, I advertise Odyssey shamelessly. Go AIO!
And here's a special preview from Rising Waters!
Hope you liked it!
-President Fantasy
Against All Odds
A Text to Save the World
Well, that's all I've got. Tiger...remember to write Chapter 2! And Tiger, by the way, which Adventures in Odyssey album would you like to borrow? Daring Deeds Sinister Schemes, The Green Ring Conspiracy, or Other Times Other Places?
They're all good.
Oh, yeah, and after you post something, make sure to sign out. Has anybody had any problems posting so far?
 |
| The Green Ring Conspiracy album art |
And here's a special preview from Rising Waters!
Ramcol glanced up at the sky. The sun was nearing sunset, and the moon would soon be on the rise. He shaded his eyes and gazed at the pink and orange clouds that cast a magical glow over the hills that would soon lie dormant, as he and his friend traveled on.
Of course, the word “friend” was a slight overstatement.
“Let’s move,” came the familiar quiet voice from behind him, the unnerving voice that seemed to always be grappling with a considerable desire to blast Ramcol. However, the upside was that he rarely used it.
Ramcol turned, shouldering his pack. “Right,” he replied, without his usual smile. It felt as though he had not smiled for a month – mostly because Drift never did.
Drift was in a word wrong. It was as though someone had taken a human being and cast some curse on him so that he was forever mixed up inside. It wasn’t just his appearance: the mop of sandy hair that always fell over his left eye, or his tattered clothes that covered his thin, stringy body, or his bright green eyes that were absolutely not human. His manner was different, as though he were not used to being around any other life form, and was not quite sure how to go about it. As Ramcol had learned, he was clever – but more than clever. There were no words for the way how he somehow knew how to tie everything together, how he knew how to offer Ramcol exactly what he wanted, and how Ramcol himself had no idea what Drift was going to get out of the whole thing.
As they traveled together, Ramcol had become more and more convinced that if Drift had not been helping him and they had passed on the road, they would have instantly hated each other. They seemed exact opposites, and even now, although they seldom had extreme fights, mostly because they both wanted to avoid major conflicts, they bickered constantly.
These small arguments weren’t even often about constructive things. They were mostly about matters of opinion – the best way to spy on a city, how to sneak into a room full of people, when to fight and when to run – all of which they had done. The plan that Drift had created, Ramcol had to admit, was a good one. It had very few loopholes, and seemed to offer everyone what they wanted.
Except for Drift.
Ramcol had no idea what was in it for his traveling partner. He had turned the plan over in his head over and over and over again, and no good had come out of it. It was well-rounded, thought out, and clever. Ramcol tried to figure out a way that it could backfire, and he wouldn’t get what he wanted in the end. But it seemed to fit perfectly. It was a way to prove himself to Rea.Hope you liked it!
-President Fantasy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)