Slowed Down Writing

My writing has slowly gone out of the window. I got out of the habit of writing every day due to not being home all day. I have been feeling bouts of inspiration so maybe that's a sign that I need to keep going.

The StrangeAthon is currently going and that has only been a mini-fail as I got the challenges up in a reasonable time. Not so much the videos or the Sprints I said I was going to do.

Hell this post in only three paragraphs.

The "A Haunting" ep with the hospital.

Writing has taken a backseat to hospital visits and generally fucking around. I'm not the one in Hospital. Life is strange when someone in your immediate family is in the Hospital. I'm spending a lot of time alone with a small army of cats and a dog who is both clingy and doesn't understand that if she wants me to play fetch, she has to actually bring me the ball, not put it at the end of the couch and stared at it.

Stressfully and feeling guilty because you did the wrong thing, but also knowing you didn't know the full picture.

I got a wifi camera to spy on the animals when I have to leave them to their nonsense and there's no one to send me pictures. Pictures of Spiderman. I mean pictures of my dog, knowing what she doing at any moment. Even if that usually sleeping in a window; barking her head off for no reason or chasing a cat. She staring at me where a ball is out of arms reach of me. I love her but sometimes she drives me up a wall with her weird ball notions.

Basically, this has caused things I was planning for this week/month to be out a wack but things could be worse. Life is constant of throwing things out wack, while it laughs at your plans. Somethings might recover but making videos is unlikely thing right now. Though, I am in an empty house except for animals and apparently ghosts.

That's right the first time I have an infrared red security camera, I capture two orbs at 3am something. This amuses me more than anything else. I am the person who falls asleep to A Haunting. They do look legit but one also came from my cat's stomach.

I don't have much to say today, so I shall bow out until I have words. Now enjoy this video.

Camping at NaNoWriMo Again.

I am attempting Camp NaNoWriMo for the I don't know time. I first did it in 2012, but I haven't done it every year. Maybe this is the fourth. But Camp NaNoWriMo happens a few times a year, so probably have had a few half-arsed attempts over the years. I was trying to do a short story a day thing, which didn't work out again.

My 2015 attempt turned into a novel that has an ending of sorts that was never written out and now I find myself writing a very odd duo point of view superhero nonsense. It's a lot of office Politics but 

I haven't written a ton, probably due to it having no plot. It was meant to be a day in the life, but then I had to give my protagonist a fuck-up background and an Angsty love interest whose literal name is Angst right now. I haven't given most of the characters actual names, just stand-ins until I can figure out what I want their names to actually be. 

For example, a character is currently called E-Mega. It's a superhero thing, but it really doesn't suit him, primarily as he's meant to be this Golden Era character. If his origins were the 80s, then it could work, but him to be this stuffy immortal, that's out of touch with the world and kinda done. Going for that whole immortal thing. A lot of comic book characters are immortal when you actually look into, but no one in comics actually ages, so it rarely comes up. 

 I have a few characters I'm gonna have immortal or at least Legacies anyway. Dealing with the idea of these superhero organisations actually be around for the time for the superhero comic books. But mostly it's teenage adults fucking things up, hence why they could use the pet name Angst for each other. 

I'm enjoying writing this nonsense, but it's still ruined by the fact that it could only be a character study in its current form. Maybe if I keep writing, I'll eventually figure out an actual storyline that could carry something longer than a page. I guess I could go back to Nails Polish or the Stranger, novels where I know how they end, just have to figure out the well.

I've also started making videos again, participating in a month-long readathon. I also didn't get that job, shockingly. Well, now I can get a puppy guilt-free and shit talk the Big Bang Theory in all the ways it deserves. I've never read today, but I watched four films, including The Brady Bunch film which I have been watching clips of off YouTube for the past two weeks for some reason. Also Beyond Brief so it's been very retro today. I'm off to sleep or some other nonsense. 

Cursed and naming cats after the Devil.

My family is perhaps cursed. Good thing our cats are all meant to be lucky. My dad got a phone call on Thursday evening to say there was a crack in his leg, from falling last week in the garden, and they wanted to give him a CT scan. His knee is broken and now they debate whether he should get surgery to get pins in his legs. If they do so that will bring the number of family members having surgery this year to three. Though, who knows when they're actually have the surgery. We're in the seven month of the year, and we thought it would definitely have happened by now. But probably September because sibling needs to have something checked out and the appointment they gave her was for August. 

Leia has taken to wanting to sit on my head while I'm sleeping. Waking me because it bloody hurts. Leia now almost two years, finds new ways to hurt me every day. The kitten also likes to attack people in their sleep. Also feet and hands. His name started as Shadow and now it's Lucifer, One is loyal dog from a classic live action Disney film, the other is the evil cat from Cinderella. It's also a name of a character that appears in some Disney shorts :). It also means Rising star, how pretty.

With everything going on I have yet to edit a video for this week, I also haven't filmed properly in two weeks. There is stuff to edit including my July Wrap Up and the Vlog for the Strangeathon. I had laid out an hour to edit on Friday, but I was force to leave my house due to the broken knee and someone being stranded in a strange town. Camp NaNoWriMo is fail since I haven't properly wrote anything since the second day of this month. My life is constantly busy, even with nothing going on.

Well, I'm having an Indian takeaway, so hopeful that goes well. It's a good thing I decided not to go to college or something, because life is going to be something in the next three months. God, life.

It's Too God Damn Hot.

I have several things I need to do. I am slowly doing one of them. Finally moving out of my parent's house. Only took eight months to get most of my junk of here. Getting insulation in my house is slowly turning into the worst thing ever. It should be finished. Apparently, the electrics might not be safe. Great. I guess I just won't use that light.

I'm sitting on two thing videos that were Pride related. One properly, the other a book review. The proper one has always been a mess that I need to just edit. I need just to get time.

Then Camp NaNoWriMo is tomorrow which I am doing. I need to do Bullet Journal for it and other stuff. I need to film videos for StrangeAThon which is next week, going from the 9th to 15th July 2018 (we have a twitter).

We have this deadline without a date. I just want this done and for my mother stop freaking out over everything and nothing. My dog is also a little weirdo that won't do the toilet anyway but off lead in my parent's garden. She also follows me everywhere so my parent's scheme to steal her from me won't work.

I meant to go to the beach all week and the cinema. I'm just not getting to do anything I want. I took Leia to a Loch because she constantly over heating and wanting to play ball. She was not keen but she went after the ball when it was thrown in. My mother also thinks dogs can't swim. Here are some photos because I am an artist.

I'm writing while in sitting in a wardrobe so obvious joke about being in the closet on this the last day of Pride. Might put Stella in here. Stella use to live in the closet, then the clothes over took. Now she tied to a bunk bed. Not sure where Stella is going to live in my house. Probably in the corner.

I've got so much stuff to do, and my mother is taking her frustration out on me. I've have a novel tow write, videos to film so I best just go. See you next week.

The Night (Short Story Thing) a.k.a. Nonsense.

So I've been reading a ridiculous amount of SuperBat fanfiction. I just love them so much and hate those god damn Syner films. I will fight you about it. The characters are just so OOC in them that I can't read fanfic where they use it as starting point. I just like my boys to be BFF/or Lovers. Happy Pride month. The whole Justice League is Bi in my head.

The Night

Things had been going bad for a while. Their wins were just scraping  by and more of the League was stepping away. She didn't want to admit it but they were back to the standard core. The Government had managed to scare away the less established supers.

For the core, it was too late to stand down. They had been doing this stuff for 10 years, she wouldn't know how to quit. Even pregnancy, the guilt of putting her baby in danger hadn't made her stay dominant for the first months she had known. She had only stopped when she starting showing with the helpful headline of "Is Atomic Girl getting fat?"

The older she got the more she hated that press name. When she had been 15 and The Atomic, girl was of course added because she didn't hide that she presented female. She wondered how old she would she have to be till people updated her to woman or at maybe back to The Atomic. It's didn't help that her teammates had ironically started calling her it so it had stuck.

Right now she did feel very like a girl, like a child, which was pretty bad considering she had a three year. A three old that didn't call her mum, less the government freak out about super children. They had no control of they destinies. 14 and a street kid, the government had no threats for her. But now she had a family, a family that was slowly going missing.

Members were quitting the League, but they were members who stopped coming in and answering to messages. Her gut told her they was something up. She knew that the Organisation had more secret identity than the league did, back when the Organisation had been ally, instead of a poaching threat. They hadn't said it, but they wanted the league to stop. Three years and one Leaguer turns villian, then the rest of the team couldn't be trust. He had only been there a few months. He was still a rookie. They had said they hadn't held it against them, but she knew they had.

They were hosit and only called them for big things like Aliens or armies of robots. The league just wasn't as attractive, they weren't the pretty porgan they had been as teenagers. They had been Best Friends, the Core, now she keep secrets from them all. She hadn't even told him that her powers were in flux. She lost them and then they came back screaming. She had terrible feeling that it would mean her end. Something had to be causing it. She just didn't have the time to find out what.

The Organisation was on to her. She knew they had finally figured her out. She made sure to be quiet, nothing flashy, just a boring office job, that had turn government and then she was working for them. How could she have said no to that offer? It would have strange to do in this economy. Had they known then, or had they clued up?

She disappeared a lot, but she was meant to be working from home and she did get her work in. How could they know? She had thought she had been so careful, but then 14 year old make mistakes, had they tracked her through her path before she knew that she had something to fear.

She was Fucked. She knew that. Crime went on and the Organisation did not want them solving it any more. They were up to something.

She heard loud crash, the sound of a building falling. She sighed and turned to the window. Robots again? She went for her uniform, knowing her powers interfered with electronics brilliantly but the truth was she knew she couldn't stay out of the fight. That what the Organisation had over her. She couldn't stop.

She would wish that wasn't true, when she realise the trap that she and the Core had just walked into. It was the end of the league. It was the end of them. The headlines would vary from crude to tragic. Conspiracy theories would be the only explanation anyone had. No one thinking about what the world had just lost.

***

Yeah, that's just nonsense. Literally all telling, never even established where the character was. Probably should be in first person. From a project that probably never get off the ground. Mainly because I think it should be a comic that I draw. 7 years later and that's not happened passed costume design. I'm doing Camp NaNoWriMo next month, guess which genre I'm writing. It's quite shocking for me.

Dance Hall: Chapter 4, Vague Threats

Hello, Weirdos. It's been a while, but in honour of the first Saturday of Camp I have a new Chapter in the Dance Hall. Yeah, still need a better title. I don't even like as a working title. I will accept suggestions. I've worked on this chapter for a while, hopefully the next one will be wrote a lot quickly. This chapter does end with lots of direction for the next one. I'm still finding the characters. I don't know I've made the right direction for this story, my early starts might have been better. However, we here now so I'm just going to keep pushing myself to get through this. This story has been worth so far just with the different world building I've done and I do like ideas I've came up with. The Execution does need work. I'm going to stop review this chapter and just let you read.

Do tell me what you think and if you are also taking part in Camp NaNoWriMo this session as well.

Start & Last Chapter

Chapter 4, Vague Warnings

I’m woken by someone slamming on my door. I finally got to sleep last night at around 4am. I feel goggy. What the point of sleeping when you feel worse when you wake up? I answer the door to my mother.

“Good, you’re dress,” I hadn’t bothered to get changed before getting into bed. “You’ve missed breakfast and we have to get going. Get your stuff together.”

This is my mother typical morning greeting. She is morning person where I favour the night, sticking to the stereotype. I grab my phone and bag without saying anything. I didn’t even get my phone charger out last night, meaning my phone is likely dead and Necromancy doesn’t work on electronics, that was different type of magic. Though, I can do Frankenstein thing with corpses.

“Ready,” I tell the hallway. My hair is probably a mess but I’m spending the next three hours in the car anyway. She not there, I lock the door and make my way down the stairs. We’ll run into each other eventually.

No one was in the reception bit. Disappointingly, there’s not even a feeling of eeriness in the empty hallway. People are easy to find, when they are ghost to ask. I go outside to see if she at the car. I immediately spot that she not in the parking lot. The only one presence is a ghost. It’s standing at the gate looking out into the road. A girl in Victorian style white dress, how cliché.

The dress is a clue to her state of living but I can just tell with the dead. I couldn’t explain the difference between the living and the dead. There’s just a clear distinction.

I wander over to her. She must be one of the house’s actual sprits. They don’t tend to leave their objects. Though, maybe the gate was from another place originally. It wouldn’t surprise me if even the wall paper was haunted, stolen from a derelict mansion.

“Why are clinging to the gate?” Conventional conversation with ghosts usually go no way even with the most aware spirts, so it’s best to be direct with what you wanted.

“He’ll be back.”

“Who will…” I stop at a crunch in the gravel. It’s Mr Creepy. Camp NANo The ghost is faded away when I turn back. Our discussion was over with the intruder. I ignore him and walked to the car. I try the door for kicks, my mother often leaves the door open. Its locked.

“Hello, Nova,” Mr Creeps says rattling the gates. “How did you sleep? Have any disturbances?” I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, the mattress was so lumpy that my sleep was so light that woke from the sound of the pipes ratting. Maybe you should get those replace.” I fake smile as his disappears.

“I just came out to make sure the gates were unlocked,” he pauses. “They sometimes lock and unlock themselves.” He tells me this as though it’s a secret and not something he’s tells all his guests. If true, it sounded like too rivalling spirts.

“Maybe you should get a new a lock,” I reply to his disappointment. I know I’m being bitchy, but these places give me the creeps and I can’t believe my mum wants to run one. He goes on to opening the gate, pulling them wide and use a rope try them to the fence.

A minivan pulls in as if on que, it beat up Junker that’s all scraped up on the side of it. It’s also crammed with kids. Is a spook hotel, a family hotel?

The woman behind the wheel gets out the car, abandoning just at the gate. She is dressed in bright patterns long shirt and ankle length skirt that crash with each other and just the colours on them alone.

“Is Aytia ready to go?” are the words she says to Creep. My mother’s car is sadly lock. I can’t be bother to wait with Creeps’ family. My mother must be inside.

“You’re Tella Stern’s daughter aren’t you?”

The creeps all know us then. I awkwardly nod. I saved up from follow up questions with the appearance of Junior Creeps.

“Hello Aunt Mum,” the women turns disgruntled.  I didn’t know that witches doubled as Hill billies. I guess they must exist somewhere. It probably witches just have the habit calling the unofficial head of the family a version of mother and I haven’t met one who appreciates being the one with this honour.

Aytia stuffs her bag in a boot and then throws herself in with it. Witches are not safety or law abiding butch.  The woman gets back in the car and drives off with only a wave to Creeps.

“I’ll be seeing you all round Nova,” Aytia shouts waving as me as the van flees from her father.

My mother finally came out and meets me at our car. Its doors are finally opened. We dump our bags in the boot.

“Did you return your key?”

“The ghosts did it for me,” I say with smile.

“Go and do it so we can leave. Mav would probably demand we come back as the key itself is haunted.” I’m not sure she joking or not. I would rather never come back here. It’s a threat I’m not willing to risk.

Mr Creeps is back in the hotel, so I’m forced back into the building. The hall is strikingly colder than the spring weather outside now. Empty but for the ghost manning the desk, flicking through files.

I guess Aytia did keep the ghosts at bay. I slam the keys on the desk. He doesn’t look up at the noise. Well, he’s clearly not being paid enough to deal with guests. I probably should actually give Mr Creeps the keys, so they not carried off by the sprits, but if this is really the quiet season then he would have plenty of time to find the key again. Also he really should have spares in different places with the amount of ghosts this place has.

Eh, I need to get out this house before more show up. The room suddenly darkens and file ghost disappears. I sigh and turn to leave. The Victorian ghost stands before the door blocking the way. Well, she had her chance for conversation and I don’t time for her menacing act.

I walk towards her in game of chicken. Walking through ghost feels weird, but it just in your head. You see something that should stop you moving forward, except it just the same as a rainbow or light beam. Ghosts are just light, but not. Like I said they’ll been almost no research done by anyone with any real knowledge of the sprit world. The few non-cigma scientist are more interested in the biology of magic than anything else. How powers manifest is the only nut they are trying to crack.

She doesn’t move as I get to her. I brace myself to go past her, closing my eyes. I bang against something hard. I fall back on my arse. I open my eyes, to the girl still blocking my way. I scan to see what knocked me over. She can’t be solid. It takes a lot of energy for ghost to interact with the “physical” world and it more touching things long enough to hurt someone. Maybe she pushed me for ignoring her now.

“He will be back for you,” her voice echoes, through the hall. Irrational fear fills me. She talking about herself. Ghosts like to be dramatic and corner people who can see her. She starts to move but then fades away again.

“What are you doing on the floor?” I hear Mr Creeps behind me. Ghost must be repelled by the Creeps. I get up from the floor and go out the door.

“The keys are on the desk,” I shout back glad to be out of the company of the house.

Next Chapter: Temporary Homes

Short Story: A Day in April

Today you're getting a story that I made myself finished today but started in Match and tried to finished during Camp NaNoWriMo but didn't managed to get to the end of it. I'm going to do my best to actually post new stories on here before uni starts. Also get back to posting on time. You know make a real creative effect.

 

  A Day in April

One day in April, Mitchelle decided to drop down dead. So she did in the kitchen. Though she had did a good job of dropping to the lamented floor like a stone, hitting the square pattern rather hard, knocking the air from her lungs. She was of course not dead because despite the way popular media made out one could not decide to die by will alone. Otherwise, most would not make it through their teenage years.

Mitchelle currently had lungs empty of oxygen, making her gasp and her eyes to pop. The sound went funny as in gone and the world was a blur as in she no longer she saw detain. "Wow, this what death must feel like" she thought clichély.

Mitchelle no longer wish to die and realise what idiotic idea it had been. She was glad that last night she had not managed to the guts to jump from the roof, to swallow those pills or to lift that blade. Though, those things would have permanently damage her, she would have landed softly, paracetamol only kills your liver and she would luckily have did it wrong. In short in all those scenarios, Ms. Mitchelle would have found her daughter and panicked. 

She had heard the bang from the livingroom, though assuming it was the cat she almost ignore the sound but it was a commercial anyway. 

Mitchelle was still lying on the floor as her body attempted to recover from gravity’s blow, when her mother made it to the kitchen doorway to see her body there. Like most mothers, Ms. Mitchelle swelled with panic. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulders to pull her around, careless of proper first aid protocol. Ms. Mitchelle pulled Mitchelle up and into the living room.

Mitchelle wasn’t fully aware of this until she was sat down on the couch. Later she would she would swear to have no memory of getting to that couch from the kitchen floor. Just as the ads were ending, Mitchelle’s lungs began to function properly, the air had returned, with its sweet, sweet oxygen.

“Are you okay?” Ms. Mitchelle asked panic still swelling inside her.

Mitchelle was not okay, she was not fine, she was not alright, and she was not okay in any of those forms. She had wanted to die just 2 minutes and 3 seconds ago.  She nodded anyway; her mother had meant physically, mental health was not on her mind, and who would have shook their heads, one does not admit that they’re not okay until they literally cannot hide the fact that they are not okay to anyone. Mitchelle was not about to admit that she was not okay, mentally or physically. Her lungs and throat felt strained, her body bruised, yet none of that matched the pain her shattered heart still felt.

Mitchelle had had her heart broken by April and her namesake tormented her with daily reminder. She doubt that April would feel this way in May. Especially as no one called her May except for misinformed teachers and a family that said it was stupid to refer to each other by last name because they all currently had the same one and it was not up to discussion to change it or anyone’s first name. Two, April was a heartless, soulless beast who was no more a person than she was a month in spring. She should have been named November which was worst of all the winter months. It was cold, included no holidays that didn't tormatise cats and dogs and was late enough in the year to make you aware what a failure you were and still sober enough to care.

But damn she was April with exam prep, lambs and the promise of summer in the wind. In short she was painfully only to teens and lamb haters. May was the month of exams and had been demoted from a summer month to late spring.  

April had came into her life at the start of the year, when they were put into the same Geography class. The kissing had came during group homework. The Heartbreak had came after April group homework with Sasha. Pretty, annoying Sasha who made out with other girls at parties for attention. It wasn’t Sasha fault, but her history with Sasha did make her want to lay the blame on her, though she had no idea that April had girlfriend or made out with regularly with a girl who thought she was her girlfriend.

That was what stings the most. Walking into back room find April kissing someone else had been heart breaking, but April acting like she had no right to be angry was the shattering. There weren’t going out. There were just getting off with each other, for over six months. They had brought each other Christmas presents.

Sure, they hadn’t told anyone they were dating but people in school were idiots and didn’t want her parents knowing anything about her sex life.

Mitchelle got up from the couch. Telling her mother she was fine, she went upstairs to sulk on her bed. The pain in her chest had turned physical so it hurt to walk up the stairs. She did slowly and groaned when she threw herself on the bed. She lay there for about a whole minute when her mother shouted her backstairs. She fought the urge to scream into her pillow and instead threw in across the room remembering who else head had been on it.

She dragged herself back down the stairs; she was half way down the stairs when she saw that the front door was open. For a brief second she thought her mother was talking to April. Then she realised that the edges of blonde she could see was wrong and April wasn’t that short.

She stomped down the remaining steps. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even her worried friends who wouldn’t stop messaging her. It wasn’t one of her friends. She walked to the door slowly around her mother. It was Sasha, which was just great. Who wanted to stand next perfect petite Sasha when they hadn’t brushed their hair or teeth in two days?

“What are you doing here?”

“I…” Sasha smiled at helplessly. “I want to talk to you.” She glanced at Mrs Mitchelle.

“Come on,” Mitchelle said walking back up the stairs. She didn’t look back to see if Sasha was following her. She was awkwardly.

Mrs Mitchelle went back to the living room to figure out what was going on with her daughter and to catch up on her show.

Mitchelle dumped herself on the bed. This time backwards, so she could face the door and watch Sasha come in. She shut the door behind her slowly.

“Well…” Mitchelle said in hostical deadpan.

“I just want to apologize about April and to say that I honestly had no idea you were a thing.” She said waving her hand.

That didn’t help. She already knew that Sasha hadn’t known.

“I would never make-out with someone who’s dating someone else.” Mitchelle continued to not to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone, I know not everyone is ready to be out like me.” Mitchelle looked up.

“You’re a lesbian,” Mitchelle exclaimed. “You went out with…that football guy.”

“I am Bi,” she shrugged.

“Attention whore then.”

“No,” Sasha said angry now. “Not everyone is monosexual. You’d think you would be more open-minded considering.”

“You make out with girls so boys will play attention to you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, then I must have taken something at those parties.”

“I’m not allowed to kiss my girlfriend in public.”

That shut Mitchelle up for second.

“I don’t get why you’re here, April cheated on, not you and I would rather be left alone now.”

“You’ve skipped school the past two days and that project is due Monday, which is hard as none of us are speaking to each other. Can’t we both be angry at April together?”

Mitchelle didn’t care at about school at the moment, but she did know at the back of her mind that she was being overdramatic and shouldn’t be giving April so much power.

“Okay, but tomorrow,”

Sasha nodded.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

They walked to the door in silence. Mitchelle did her best not to flinch in front of Sasha.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sasha said exiting the house.

“You two are fucking now?”

Mitchelle looked out the door to see April. Sasha went bright red.

“No…” Sasha began before Mitchelle cut her off.

“Sasha you should get home, me and April have to talk.”

Sasha wandered away and April stormed to the door.

“Serious, you go on about being girlfriends and you already on to someone else,” April demanded.

“Well, April it liked you said, we weren’t girlfriends so you have no right to show up here angry.”

“I thought we could sort things out.”

“What? No one else to make out with?”

“Mitchelle, I came to give this whole girlfriend a short. I thought that you wanted.”

Mitchelle thought for moment and realised that she should have been more angry than sad. But she couldn’t be. She couldn’t be happy with April again.

“No, not anymore. I’ll see you around.” Mitchelle shut the door before April could responded and ignored the banging from the otherside whilst April shouted threats. She didn’t care.

“Who’s that at the door?” Mrs Mitchelle asked.

“No one, you should ignore it”

Mitchelle went to shower April out of her hair. 

 ***

I liked the opening of this and have no memory of how I was planing to finish this when I started. It has ending even the opening was a lot better. Ending things is the hard part for me. If any one has a writing prompt they want me to trackle then please comment it down below or what ever method you prefer to contract me by. Write you next time.