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Sunday, November 29th, 2009
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10:59 pm - Compy: The Friend we only Appreciate When...
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Over my Thanksgiving break, I did verily cook many delicious foods. I made four different pies. Yes, a turkey. Dressing? Meh, not so important. I cheated on that. I got Ace Combat Zero from my pal Andy. I got New Super Mario Bros. Wii from the folks.
But always in the background of this, following the submission of the latest GRL chapter was another underlying problem:
My compy was barfing.
Well, not the whole Compy. Just the power supply (We think). Suffice it to say, though, a compy that suddenly dies on you while you're busy is not a happy compy. It went a day the first chokeup after before dying again. Then half an hour. Then finally Saturday night, an hour and a half.
Now, relax, relax. Like Jesus, Erico saves. All my super special documents, writings, musings, musics, and so forth are safely tucked away on my external Hard Drive. So nothing's lost...I'm just stuck typing on my (Shudder) OLD OLD OLD College laptop. 256 MB of RAM? This is the little engine that couldn't, I'm afraid. Still, it manages (With some difficulty) to do two things at once: Play music, and visit the internet. No, I'm not typing anything new for a bit, but I can at least keep tabs on things.
The new power supply for compy will be arriving sometime in the middle of this week. Once I get it installed, we'll turn Compy on and see if my Tower of Power can last with a new power supply.
It should. And then we'll be back to business as usual.
In the meantime, I'm relegated to using a relic, and with no creative spark left in me because of this problem. Hard to think about what needs to be written when you can't use the machine that can do it.
-Erico
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| Wednesday, November 25th, 2009
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10:33 pm - Chapter Fourteen: The Last Chair
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| Friday, November 20th, 2009
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11:33 pm - Guiding Rainbow's Light Update
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The newest chapter is now at page 50. I'm anticipating I'll have it done and up by next Saturday.
The music flows...and with it, so do my fingers.
And the mind guides.
2060 will come and go...
And 2070, the Epilogue, looms oh so close.
-Erico
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| Saturday, November 14th, 2009
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5:35 pm - Who Needs NaNoWriMo?
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NOT I, SAID THE BARD.
See, the purpose of the NaNo is for people who don't get much of a chance to write to sit down and cram out 200 pages/80,000 words over the course of 30 days. It's a grueling marathon, a testament to putting out a goodly amount of story as quickly as possible. Moreover, it's about flexing one's creativity and their mastery of composition.
I don't have that problem.
Starfox: SOL updated last night.
Over the past week, the latest chapter of GRL went up by another 10 pages, bringing us closer to the BOOM moment; the quite literal climax of the Mega Man Prequel.
On top of this, tack on all the tidbits I write for games I play in (And run), the four other stories I dabble with whenever I feel the need to switch channels
And I'm also still in charge of "From The Sidelines", and I've been doing some editing on another submission that I plan to upload by tomorrow.
Nope, I don't need to do the NaNo.
I write every bleeding day of the year. Even, and especially, Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve.
-Erico
current music: "If I Ever Lose My Faith" -Sting
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| Wednesday, November 4th, 2009
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7:11 am - To Maine: You Suck
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Congratulations. For whatever your personal reasons are, or for whatever reasons got spoonfed to you, you've repealed same-sex marriage. Well, I guess I didn't expect any different, but I'm one of those people who loves to be proved wrong about my sometimes cynical views.
If, because of your blind stupidity to the grander streams of cause, effect, and psychohistory, this leads to a similar amendment being passed in Iowa, I know which state to blame.
As Mookie says, God is love. And Jesus was a carpenter who traveled with fishermen. For as much as some people in the United States claim they're God's "Chosen people", it's evident that Maine isn't on his travel list.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go stem the tide of bigotry and intolerance that results from the grim, unthinking masses.
-Erico
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| Monday, November 2nd, 2009
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9:40 pm - Moon of the Dawn
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On the drive back home from work tonight, I was met with a peculiar sight...A full moon that glowed so brightly, nighttime seemed like the dawn of an early morning.
It's surreal to drive home at 9 at night...
And make out details so clearly, you can tell what color the leaves are on trees.
-Erico
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| Wednesday, October 21st, 2009
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11:29 pm - From The Sidelines: Calling All Editors!
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The submissions keep pouring in at a steady trickle, and it's getting to the point where we have the authors...
But we're in dire need of some editors. Some people willing to read through submissions, point out typos, irregularities, areas of inconsistency and passages that can be shortened.
If you would like to be an Editor for "From The Sidelines" (And yes, you get credit for doing so), please drop me a line at visionarykasei@gmail.com
And we'll start you up.
-Erico
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| Monday, October 12th, 2009
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11:04 pm - A Rabbi, a Priest, and a Minister...(Jake and Sarah, Cue in)
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Today's odd work thought.
This coming New Year's, I'm hoping to participate in Jake and Sarah's usual bash. As they now have a bonified house, this could be most excellent indeed. I've been dabbling in perhaps running a short 1st level D&D game in the 4th edition setting...because I have one.
To do this, I'd want to make some pre-gen characters for the sake of ease. There's a couple of group format possibilities, so I'd like to test the waters. Jake, Sarah, what sounds good?
A Rabbi, A Priest, and a Minister...
In this format, the team is composed of an all divine power sourced crew covering all four team roles of Leader, Defender, Striker, and Controller. Of course, none of them worship the same deity, which sometimes causes headaches...
Thorlun the Mighty (And Friends)
In this crew, Thorlun is a ferocious barbarian who is followed by a team of skilled, but not as outrageously strong, friends. Together, they travel in search of gold, fame, and the next good meal. Poor Thorlun hasn't been the same since his barbarian wife died...
Raiders of the Lost Arcana
An all arcane power sourced slugfest! Join up with a squadron of top notch, crack mercenaries recently released from their military contract and ready and willing to put their magical tricks and talents to good use for personal gain. They're after secrets, more secrets, and eventual controlling interest in the implementation of the awesomeness that is abundant in everything about them.
The Gray Team
In 7480 ADW, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military tribunal for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security dungeon complex into the Ashran underground. Today, still wanted by their government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them...maybe you can hire...The Gray Team.
(Okay, the last one was inspired by the A Team, I'll admit it. Here's a video. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4gOREBIooA)
so go ahead, ye happy people. Let me know what sounds good.
-Erico
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| Saturday, October 10th, 2009
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12:09 am - Raphael Freese: Stir Crazy (Part 2)
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Raphael's grand house was divided into three separate levels. There was the basement, which held the bulk of the mansion's archived spellbooks, tomes, and written histories. Some of the rare gems in his collection included theses written by the great Walvendanian scholars. Not many people came to the basement, which suited Raphael, and his far more bookish friend and fellow thinker Brendan Oak perfectly. It was the one safe place in the house where one could find some peace and quiet.
The basement just wasn't that conducive to sleeping.
Raphael jerked his head up with a snort, feeling a stinging sensation flowing up into his face. Across the reading table from him, Brendan Oak, who preferred to assume the appearance of a 13 year old boy, gave Raphael's seven-year old seeming a knowing smile. "Back among the living, I see."
"More or less." Raphael adjusted his spectacles and winced; as he'd suspected, he had fallen asleep on the book he'd been reading earlier. Even though the nap had lasted all of five minutes, it didn't take long to numb his face against the coarse paper. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"You looked like you needed it." Brendan replied, turning the page on his scripts of arcane precepts. "It didn't last long, though."
"It never does." Raphael muttered back. "I just can't get any sleep anywhere in this damn house. Maybe if I went down to Terrus, I could..."
Brendan just looked at him, not saying anything. Raphael sighed. "No, that wouldn't help, would it?"
Brendan closed his book and steepled his fingertips, considering the topic set before them. "Not much has been written on the subject lately...during the heyday of Walvenlight, there were a few people who specialized in the study of the mind and its ailments. If things hadn't gone sour because of the Severing...Well, who knows." He cleared his throat and went on. "I wish I had more of their work on file, but what I recall is that your troubles may stem from an unresolved conflict."
Raphael blinked. "Say again?"
"Well...oh, how did they phrase it..." Brendan frowned. He leaned his head forward and furrowed his eyebrows. "You're struggling with yourself. Some issue is keeping your mind occupied. Because of this, you're never fully at rest...and that's what is keeping you up at night."
"Brendan, there is no night in Thalasia."
"Well, you know what I mean." The one they called "The Scholar" scoffed. "So the question is, are the long deceased professionals right or not? Is there something bothering you?"
"Just the usual." Raphael shrugged. "Nothing I can pin down."
Brendan smirked. "You're the Eye of the Sun, Raph. Aren't you supposed to know everything?"
"As Pelor could tell you, if he bothered to say hello every once in a while, my gifts tend to dry up when it comes to solving the smaller crises in my life." Raphael stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in his white tunic. "I'm going to go for a walk, see if the others have trashed the rest of my house again."
"I'll go ahead and pick up down here for you, then." Brendan was ever the helpful sort to those who treated him with respect.
"Thanks, Brendan."
"Will I see you tomorrow then?" Brendan inquired. To anyone who didn't know about Raphael's oracular talents, the question would have seemed horribly misphrased. Instead, it made perfect sense, because Raphael didn't guess or predict or make plans...He knew what would happen, and simply nudged people and events so it would unfold "As it was supposed to."
Raphael disappeared behind a tall shelf of books, already well on his way to the stairs leading back up. "Two days around noon. You'll come for tea. There will be macaroons."
Brendan momentarily raised his eyebrows before delving back into his book. "Macaroons, eh?" He mused quietly. "That does sound delicious."
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The first floor of his house was where all the communal areas were located...The grand banquet hall that had been converted to the meeting chambers for Pelor's Own when Brandhurst had started up the group, the living room, the armory, the dining room, the kitchen, the screened porch with connected interior garden, the training rooms...The list went on and on. As a matter of fact, the house tended to grow depending on who else moved in and what they wanted to have. Raphael had built his home to be accommodating, and the end result was it was perhaps more accommodating than he would have liked. Up until Rex Hall had moved in, there had been no need for a "Meat Smoke Hut Room", which was, by last reckoning, filled nearly wall to wall with those disgusting blood sausages...
The second floor of the house, where he now found himself, were the personal living quarters. Every member of Pelor's Own had their own private room, and Raphael had his own as well. Unlike the first floor, which grew to meet rising demand, there were only twenty-one bedrooms on the second floor. That number would remain unchanged, for as Raphael had cryptically told Brandhurst once, "I saw it.
The six that were currently occupied were rather spread out, so Raphael wandered the winding corridors with casual disinterest. There was Brandhurst's door, impeccably clean. Relena Dawnvale's room forever wafted out the smell of pine needles, crisp and proper. Elaan's room...
Raphael stopped in front of the bedroom where Elaan Tullask supposedly kept up his residence. Of the original four that Brandhurst had asked to join him, it was Tullask that Freese had never understood the reasons why. True, "The Investigator" was a very powerful sort, whose connections to the darker, grimmer side of the interplanar Balance allowed them to do their jobs quite effectively. True, he could hold his own in almost any situation he might land in. In spite of those benefits, he was acerbic, antisocial, and horribly withdrawn. In comparison to Elaan Tullask, Raphael told himself, his grouchy attitude was downright neighborly. Worst of all, Elaan was always impossible to get a hold of. Or to see.
Because of that, the one who worked and lived in the shadows of the light and the one who pretended to see everything had come to an informal, but functional arrangement. Raphael insulted Elaan, Elaan quipped a few barbs back, and they exchanged information through the only means left to them. Notes.
In what served as humor for the dark Divine Agent, Elaan Tullask delivered his notes via a dagger stapling the documents on doorways. Raphael preferred to leave his with adhesive magics.
Elaan's door was littered with the marks left behind from five years of torn papers and ripped finish. Raphael shook his head. Had the man set his mind to it, he could have fixed the door in a few seconds. Apparently that was too much, or the appearance didn't bother him at all. Raphael's latest note was still jammed up on the doorway; There's going to be a shipment of smuggled angel feathers sent through the Concordat soon. Get on it.
A few minutes later, Raphael came up to his own doorway, and found a curt reply written on a similar sheet of paper held up by another one of Elaan's sharp daggers. See you in two weeks.
"No thank you, no "Good work out there", just see you in two weeks." Raphael tore the note down with a sigh and crumpled it up. "Well, nobody could ever accuse you of trying to win people over through a positive attitude, Elaan."
"Why not?" Elaan's voice echoed down the hallway, and Raphael was suddenly aware of the stinging smell of tobacco smoke wafting past his nose. The boy tensed up for a moment and turned around with a look upwards. The always inscrutable Elaan Tullask lifted the brim of his wide hat and glanced down humorlessly through dark emerald eyes. "I get accused of everything else."
"Some of it deserved, and some of it not so deserved." Raphael pointed to the smokestick in Elaan's hand. "You mind putting that out? I don't appreciate you smoking in my house."
"Our house, you mean." Elaan replied. "We live here too now." He flicked his hand up, and the smokestick burned to ash, in spite of his protest.
"What are you doing back here, anyhow?" Raphael folded his arms, not about to give the most ruthless of the divine agents any leeway. "Your note said you'd be gone for two weeks."
"Yeah?" Elaan reached over Raphael's head (Raphael HATED that) and jerked the nondescript dagger out of the oracle's door. "It's been two weeks. Where the Hell've you been? Sleeping?"
Raphael kept his hackles down to a minimum. "Not really. Did you take care of that smuggling operation?"
"Took some doing, but we got it knocked out of commission. I'll waive the usual finder's fee."
"How noble of you." Raphael's dry tone would have chapped a stone golem's lips. "And you couldn't have given us an update?"
"Why?" Elaan scratched at the stubble on his chin. "If the mission was done, it would be done. If it wasn't, there was no point bothering the rest of you about it. And besides, Eye of the Sun...where I go, you aren't meant to watch."
The two stared at each other for several long moments, Elaan in his dark trenchcoat and Raphael in his white tunic and leggings. Elaan broke the silence. "So. Long as we're face to face for a change, do you know what I'm doing next?"
"Yeah. Showing up at one of Brandhurst's meetings next week." Raphael opened his bedroom door.
Elaan's face showed a bit of momentary disgust. "I don't do those meetings."
"Yeah? Well, I saw it." Raphael stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Out in the hall, Elaan considered the statement, snorted derisively, and summoned up another smokestick from the depths of his trenchcoat. "Cocky little bastard." He lit it up with a bit of magical fire from his fingertip and walked down the corridor, making sure to fill the air with as much smoke as possible.
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Raphael Freese seemed a 7 year old boy with black hair, black eyes, spectacles, and a white scarf tied about his forehead. The reason he didn't enjoy going into his room was the same reason he couldn't sleep in it.
Once he'd removed his headband, the boy had disappeared, and a powerful young man stood in its place. The older and more handsome Raphael Freese set the scarf on the edge of his bed and sighed. "Something's keeping me occupied, eh Brendan?"
He made his way to a precious glass mirror he kept in his quarters and stared at himself. There were other windows and mirrors about in the mansion, of course, but the one in his room was the only one Raphael paid attention to. He stared into his true appearance, not the one he hid behind, and saw a very tired man. An attractive man, to be sure, for in the afterlife, there were no imperfections...But a tired man.
He was not the crippled youth with the cane that had helped to save the entire Pelorian faith from its Schism.
But you weren't nearly as tired back then, were you? A nagging voice in the back of his mind teased him.
"And you're supposed to look better after two millennia of overseeing the Balance?" He muttered aloud.
Raphael turned away from the mirror and gave his room a long and slow look. There was his bed, a pan of water for divining, and the thing that took up the most room...A Walvendanian Restrictive Summoning Circle, painstakingly recreated from scattered historical records and careful back-scryings, nestled in the corner. He'd used the circle to summon and contain devils, archons, and in one rare case...The living avatar of Wee Jas herself. Here in this room, his powers were absolute. He had created this one space to act as the focal point of his strength. Here, he was at his strongest, with no limitations.
But here, also, he was the most defenseless.
Not every action he had performed in this chamber beyond the sight of all others had been worthy of pride...And not every decision had won the best possible results.
He'd learned the lesson of his limits well. It had torn away another shred of his happiness to do so, but he'd learned it.
"Maybe I am conflicted." Raphael snapped, reaching for his scarf. He tied it back around his forehead angrily, and he felt his powers of sight begin to retreat back away again. "But what am I supposed to do? I can't just live for the mission! For the sake of the Balance, I don't get a life? And why should I have to give up my house, my home, for Brandhurst and the others? What have I received in return for everything I have sacrificed?!"
He shouted at the ceiling as he did so, as if Pelor could hear him. He knew better, though. Pelor may have heard him, for there were no secrets in Raphael's heart the Shining One did not know...
But the Shining One had never done Raphael any favors.
Bitterly, Raphael walked towards his door and opened it. Air from the rest of the mansion wafted into the spatially separate room he called his own, and it was Raphael Freese the boy who walked out of it.
I'm nothing but a tool for you and your other servants. Brendan was right. I am conflicted.
Lost in his thoughts, Raphael didn't bother to look where he was going...And crashed facefirst into a shocked and squealing female form.
When the stunned oracle came about, he found himself collapsed on top of the shocked form of Jane Saunders. The holy bard's mouth was partways open. "Raphael? Are you all right?"
"Jane." The boy returned the courtesy, and puzzlement was his first reaction so soon out of his errant musings. It took him a moment to realize where he was lying...and what he was lying on, and how infuriatingly pleasing the sensations of that were. He pulled himself off of her and smoothed out the front of his tunic. "You should watch where you're going!" He chastised her.
Jane pulled herself off of the floor, sputtering at the remark. "Me? I'm not the one whose eyes are glued to the floorboards, Raphael! You should watch where you're going!"
"It's my damn house!" The boy snapped back. Jane only rolled her eyes at the remark.
"Oh, grow up, Freese. I've been wandering around in your house for years now. You can get over it."
Raphel fumed at the comeback. "Get over...Never mind." He pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed. His forehead was burning red and itchy. Shame and irritation, he thought. "What are you doing up here anyway?"
Jane turned away from him and harrumphed, folding her arms in a way that, in a different light, would have been keenly attractive. "I wish I knew, Raphael. I thought I would come up and invite you down to have some cake."
Raphael frowned. "The house is empty, though. There's nobody else here." This much, he knew as fact. He'd seen it weeks ago, that for this particular stretch of time, the house would be empty. Well, outside of Tullask, of course, who he had trouble following...
And then there was Jane, who due to a quirk in her approach, was always immune to his scryings of "Who is going to bother me on this particular day?"
"Well, yes, I know it's empty." Jane said. "I knocked, nobody answered, so I let myself in. And then I made a cake."
"Why?" As usual, Raphael found himself genuinely confused around the girl. "Why would you make a cake and invite me to have some?"
"Right now, I'm having trouble remembering why, considering how ungrateful you're acting." Jane stuck her tongue out at him.
Raphael quieted his frustrations with a sigh. "Fine, fine. Look, you caught me at a...strange time. I'm sorry. But again, why would you want to make me a cake?"
"...Maybe I thought you were lonely." She answered softly, and looked away.
Raphael stood there, blinking at the open honesty of it. "Me? Lonely?" With his gift once again falling short, he was at a loss for the usual premeditated snarky remarks he was used to wielding with impunity. "I've got five permanent housemates. I've got another ten who filter in and out on a regular basis whenever the mood strikes them. My house is a revolving door for everyone who's bored or has too much time on their hands. How in the Shining One's name could I be lonely?"
"Because." Jane shrugged, and moved down the corridor and towards the stairs that led down to the first floor.
"Because why?" Raphael called after her.
Jane paused, turned, and smirked at him. "Come on. I thought you knew everything, Freese. Now come on. It should be cooled off by now."
She disappeared out of sight, and the answer came to Raphael, not from his brilliant mind or foresight...But from his heart.
You're lonely because you never let yourself get close to anybody else in the corps. They're around...but you never welcomed them in.
"Come on, Freese!" Jane's voice echoed up again.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" Raphael shouted back down. He adjusted his glasses, exhaled one last time, and started for the stairs.
He missed sleep. He missed how sleep kept him from having to think all the time, worry all the time.
But as he headed for the kitchen, and the cake and company that Jane had provided for him, the stillness left in the wake of his turmoil gave him an answer he'd been seeking so desperately for so long.
In the presence of those who cared for him, and who he had some marginal emotional investment in...There as well he found the silence in his thoughts he'd long hungered for.
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One Week Later
"Come on, John, you can do better than that!" Rex's face was strained full red as he and Brandhurst arm wrestled in the kitchen. Relena was over nearby, watching with minor interest as she sipped at a cup of tea.
"Men." The elven priestess sighed.
"It's not...over...yet!" Brandhurst retorted to the former barbarian, making up what Rex had in raw power in determination. The veins on the neck of the greatest divine agent to ever walk Terrus bulged menacingly. "I've...still got...power to spare!"
"Oh yeah?" Rex wheezed, and his massive bicep flexed even wider, beginning to force Brandhurst's arm down towards the table. "Have some of this then!"
Sensing imminent defeat, Brandhurst put everything he had into it. He let out a sharp roar, and a rush of white hot power slammed into his fist, granting him momentary godlike strength. Hopelessly outclassed, Rex let out a bellow as his arm...and the rest of him...were sent crashing through the table, breaking it to splinters.
Rex rolled about in the splinters for several seconds, catching his breath and moaning. "You cheated...you...cheater!"
"Gosh, Rex, I suppose I don't even know my own strength." Brandhurst replied innocently.
"Oh, would you two be quiet?" Relena snapped at them. "Raphael is out in the living room, in case you didn't notice! He's trying to sleep, so you two need to keep it down, or else..."
Her voice trailed off as the slightly dozy form of Raphael Freese wobbled into the kitchen. The bleary-eyed youth paused in the doorway and glanced at all of them for a moment, then he nodded and headed for the sink. "Brandhurst. Miss Dawnvale." He picked up a glass and poured himself a glass of water from the nearby water pitcher. "Rex."
"Sorry about the noise, Raphael." John quickly apologized. The redness in his face was now more out of shame than exertion. "And the mess. We'll get it cleaned up, I promise."
"Oh, I know you will." Raphael replied, not bothering to look at them. "This isn't the first time that you and Rex have broken things in my house, although you might do a better job with your mending spells the next time you put a hole in the roof. Still, I trust you. You'll take care of it just fine."
"Well..." Brandhurst blinked at the boy's calm acceptance. "Thank you?"
"If you're looking for something to do though, Rex, there's going to be a bit of a Yakfolk incursion into central Wildus tomorrow. You might disguise yourself as a normal northman and help inspire your descendants with a few well placed acts of heroism." Raphael took a long drink from his glass, swallowed, and set it back on the counter. "You might find that more enjoyable than arm wrestling with Brandhurst."
"Yeah!" Rex's face lit up. "That sounds great! Thanks, Freese!"
"Don't mention it." The boy said. He turned about and headed for the kitchen entryway, headed back to where he'd come from. "If anyone needs me, I'll be taking a nap out on the couch."
"We'll keep it down for you, Raphael, I promise." Brandhurst pledged.
Raphael kept on walking, and shook his head. "This is your house too now, John. Do as you will."
The three members of Pelor's Own watched him depart, then gave each other a long and puzzled stare.
"What was that all about?" Relena finally broke the silence.
Brandhurst pursed his lips for a moment. "I wish I knew. But...Somehow, he seems calmer than he was."
"Really? How can you tell?" Rex asked.
"Simple." Brandhurst clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "He didn't bother telling you how much you stank this time around. You might want to have a bath before you leave for your excursion."
"Oh, forget you, Brandhurst! Not everyone wakes up smelling like girly flowers and rubbing oils! I've got a good MAN stink, and you..."
"Not every woman enjoys her man to smell like the great outdoors, you...!"
Back out in the living room, Raphael Freese lay on his couch with his eyes shut, and felt the soothing touch of dreamless sleep reach out to claim him. Amidst the soothing background noises of the others, and no longer alone in a house filled with friends...
He finally found his sleep.
-Erico
current music: "Green Amnesia" OC Remix
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(comment on this)
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| Thursday, October 8th, 2009
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1:11 pm - Move Over Great Teacher Onizuka, Here Comes...
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| Wednesday, October 7th, 2009
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10:54 pm - Raphael Freese: Stir Crazy (Part 1)
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Elysium, Thalasia
Raphael Freese's Manor
5 N.E.
Once upon a time, Jane Saunders had asked Raphael if there was anything that he really and truly missed. The then-just-a-divine-agent had honestly replied that the thing he missed most was sleep. In life, his powers had never fully consumed him until the final days, when they were needed to prevent the Schism from happening, which meant that he'd still been able to sleep the sleep of dreams.
That peace had long since left him in the afterlife. It was his oracular talents, his ability to tear back the veil of events past and future, that gave him the edge to guide the others. Only five years had passed on Terrus since Pelor's Own had been formed to deal with the larger, world-threatening terrors while the priest Justin Veyras and his comrades had...
But that was well in the past. For Raphael, anything that wasn't a week in the future could well be considered the past to begin with.
So he continued to exist, denying the Bliss that Elysium offered because he was still needed...and would be, he knew, for far too many hundreds of years yet to come. Had he not been, he could have slipped into the Bliss, given up his power and his painful memories and slept the dreams of the dead.
He missed sleep.
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I miss the quiet, too. Raphael told himself. The seemingly seven-year-old boy opened his eyes up as boisterous laughter shattered what counted as sleep for him these days; lying on the couch in his very large house and enduring unconsciousness without dreams, nightmares, or visions. Visions had long since replaced dreams as he remembered them, the price he paid for his miraculous gift. He kept his eyes partway shut and let the weariness of his sore and still sleepy muscles fill him.
It lasted all of three seconds before another gale of laughter rattled the ceiling. Raphael's dark eyes went even darker. Rex. It's always Rex. The freak.
Raphael eased himself up into a sitting position with a long sigh and reached to the small endtable by his couch for his glasses. The tiny spectacles fitted over the bridge of his nose, serving no purpose except for ornamentation. He took a deep breath...and let his memories take over.
He had divined six months ago that this particular morning, he would get up, make his way towards the steps, and take a step back at the last moment so as not to be caught up in...
"Gotcha!" Rex guffawed, slamming into Jonathan Brandhurst as the two rushed out of the kitchen. The Founder and one of the Prime members of Pelor's Own collapsed into the floor, wrestling with each other over, of all things, a bunch of grapes. In spite of Brandhurst's peak physical conditioning, the brute strength and dogged tenacity of the former Barbarian Warlord won out, and he soon had John in a headlock. "Those grapes are MINE, Brandhurst!"
"All right, all right! Enough, man!" Brandhurst acceded, wincing as he felt vertebrae pop strangely. "Let go of me!"
After Rex had done so, the two finally took notice of Raphael Freese, who stood with his arms folded and his foot tapping impatiently on the floor.
"Oh, Raph." Brandhurst smiled, popping his spine back into place. "Up and about? I hope we weren't too noisy for you."
"No more than usual." The youth answered glibly.
"Hey, what are we doing today?" Rex added. By the look in his eye, "The Bear" hoped to have a little action to liven up his day.
"There's still another hour before the meeting. And you don't need me in it, you realize. I'm not in your little group, I'm just an advisor."
"Why is that, by the way?" Brandhurst asked the boy, just as Raphael had known he would. "Why won't you accept my invitation and formally join the corps?"
"Because, Jonathan." Raphael harrumphed, and stepped around them to climb the stairs.
Because it's not my time yet.
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Of course, if trying to catch two winks on his couch was difficult, taking naps during the day was outright impossible. As far as Raph knew, he'd been sitting in his empty kitchen, calmly divining the next two years' worth of major events down on Terrus while everyone else in the corps was running around seeing to matters of relatively small import. Sensing he'd found a spot of time to catch up on his winks, he'd set his head on his arms and collapsed into darkness.
And then Jane Saunders had shaken him awake. Of course it was Jane. Of all the divine agents who frequented his mansion, she was the only one who refused to adhere to his "No touching" rule. Even Brandhurst had enough sense to let sleeping mediums lie. It wasn't the case with Jane.
"Raph. Wake up."
Eyes still shut, he grunted out two grumbly words. "I'm. SLEEPING."
"Well, if you're sleeping, how are you talking to me?" Jane replied cheerfully. Raphael slowly lifted his head back up and gave the far too bright and cheerful Muse of divine minstrels a withering death glare. One of these days, he told himself...
"What did you want?"
"I just wanted to come by and see how you were doing."
"I was sleeping." Raphael snapped. "Damn it, Jane!"
She made a shushing gesture and glanced around. "I don't think Pelor likes you talking like that."
"If he's got a problem with it, he can come down and tell me Himself." Raphael retorted. "Oh, wait. That's right. He's never bothered to take the time to see me personally. I think I'm off the hook."
"Well, all the same."
Raphael hopped down from his seat at the small side kitchen table and moved for the stove. "You know, just because I have trouble being able to see you coming doesn't mean you get to take advantage of it."
"I still have trouble believing that, Raphael. After all, you can see what will happen decades in the future, and guide all of us to being exactly where we need to be. What's the point in making you blind to when I come to visit you?"
"I wish I knew." Raphael grumbled, setting the teapot on the stove and lighting a small magical fire underneath it. The water would be boiling in a few minutes. "The best I've been able to figure is that the Shining One has a really sick and twisted sense of humor. That aside, if you could leave me alone, I'd appreciate it."
Jane was quiet for a moment. "You're having trouble sleeping again, aren't you?"
"You think?" Raphael snorted derisively. "It's not exactly a big secret. This house is too damn busy and too damn noisy for a fellow to get more than a yawn in."
"Well, I'm just thinking out loud here, Raphael, but..." Jane pressed a fingertip to her chin, and suddenly looked very coquettish from the move. "...if it's too noisy in the rest of the house, why don't you just start sleeping in your room?"
Raphael kept his back turned to her and crossed his arms, putting extra irritation in his voice. "It's my damn house. I should be able to sleep wherever I like."
It was all a farce, of course; Raphael had very good reasons for not wanting to sleep in his room, or to be in it any more than he absolutely needed to be.
He could just never tell Jane why. He could never tell any of them. It wasn't their problem, and to do so would be admitting some very awkward things.
He kept himself turned away from Jane to keep the insightful girl from seeing the hints of those dark reasons that littered his otherwise inscrutable face. She'd be able to pick up on it in a heartbeat.
Damnit, he missed sleep.
To be continued...
-Erico
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| Monday, October 5th, 2009
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9:45 pm - Internship Week 4
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Three more weeks to go, including this one.
One more teacher visit. The first one was phenomenal (I did a GREAT job).
Need to tape me teaching a lesson. Hopefully tomorrow. Maybe Thursday.
Must finish portfolio.
Must do paper.
but.
Still feeling good about it.
Just starting to want it to be done.
-Erico
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| Sunday, September 20th, 2009
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9:32 pm - Internship Week 2
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Here we go. Second week of this.
Got a plan and we're sticking to it. Teacher is happy I'm jumping into the thick of things. Observation? Nope, don't have time for observation. Gotta move.
Current distraction: Star Wars KOTOR on digital download. Awesome game, cheap price. Loving it strong.
-Erico
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| Friday, September 11th, 2009
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9:16 am - This coming SPED Internship...
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Is actually going to be a wonderful thing. Student teaching, how it was supposed to be.
I am at peace.
-Erico
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| Tuesday, September 1st, 2009
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11:04 pm - Mega Man X: From The Sidelines Signup Info
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Maybe it's because I've been working on Starfox. Maybe it's because I'm a sucker for Ace Combat games. Maybe it's because I'm an armchair pilot.
Whatever the reason is, I've been playing a lot of Ace Combat 6 lately, drawing inspiration and such for the daunting task ahead of me with one of my now several nonprofit Fanfic projects...
Here's a taste of something I've been using as inspiration.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PG0B_fi_fjc
I'd embed it, but...they disabled embedding. Heh. Sorry.
But, am I working on Starfox at this moment? Nope. Am I working on GRL? Slowly, but steadily, yes. What I'm spending most of my energy on, in the last week of freedom before I get to work on finishing out my SPED Endorsement, is another project I've been sorely neglecting, and it's one that a few other people have been waiting on.
"Mega Man X: From The Sidelines."
That's right, sports fans. FTS is charging ahead like gangbusters. I expect to have chapter 1 done by the end of this weekend...at which point I will finally upload it and uncork the monster. But the trick is, IF YOU WRITE MEGA MAN FANFICTION (Halfway decently), YOU CAN GET IN ON IT.
Here are a few things for general perusal.
Why is FTS important?
I'm setting up From The Sidelines as a short story collection, where all the major Mega Man Fanfiction players can contribute...You know who you are. Others are welcome as well, but for sanity's sake and to preserve quality (As if I have any room to talk with as many typos as I let slip by) of the work in totality, there are some ground rules.
What are the guidelines and purpose of the project?
1) "From The Sidelines" is an attempt to shine a flashlight into the larger world of Mega Man X, that mythical time between 2118 and 2199. (Yep, I'm using my calendar...) We're at a rare moment where the "Old guard" and those newer to the ranks can blend their talents together. Consider it a tribute not only to our favorite Maverick Hunting Blue Bomber, but a time capsule for Capcom. "You gave us Mega Man X...And here is the world we gave him in return."
2) The stories should focus on people with lesser importance; those caught in the crossfire, or characters who serve lesser roles. In other words, coming up with original characters who can provide glimpses into the mindset of Mega Man X's world as you see it, or others. Hell, write a story about Lifesaver. If you make it a good one, it'll probably be allowed.
3) Writing accounts of OCs being caught in major events is perfectly acceptable. Two chapters I'm writing detail protagonists who have to survive the beginnings of different Maverick Uprisings.
4) That doesn't mean your story HAS to be about their experiences in a major event. Hell, you could write a story about a reploid who runs a laundromat, if you knew what you were doing.
5) Remember, these are short stories. Try to stay under 50 pages...which, for me, is about the length of a normal chapter anymore.
6) Above all else, fun and interesting. And different. That's why the focus is on less important folks. Because it's different.
7) Swearing or strong concepts? One story of mine, I've got some rustic "Local" Maverick Hunters dropping F-Bombs near the beginning, just to prove how crusty the old police chief is. But come on. We're all grownups here. Just keep it from delving into a horror film or softcore, and we'll all be fine. I'll be ranking the story R-rated just to be on the safe side.
8) Your work doesn't have to follow or blend with anyone else's. Like Batman: Gotham Knight, everybody's got their own look at things. That said, if you want to follow the continuity established in my works, feel free. A quick perusal of "Whispers In Time", "Guiding Rainbow's Light" and "Demons of the Past" should suffice. But being as that's a mountain of reading, I'll supply Timeline dates down below. Those I'll enforce a little more stringently for sanity's sake (And also so we can keep all the stories in chronological order)
How can I sign up to be on this project?
1) First thing you'll want to do is drop me a line. My account name is "Erico" at Fanfiction.net, so if you've got membership there, it should be easy enough to message or E-Mail me (Wycost21@yahoo.com). Conversely, if you're a member of livejournal, you can just reply here.
2) Experience isn't needed if you're good, but it does help. Link me to some past work. Share what you're most proud of.
3) Shoot me a concept, and a small snippet of what you'd like to do. I'd like to prevent overlap as much as possible.
I've never done collaborations before. What do I need to know?
Hey, relax. It's been nine years since I did my last Fanfic collab, and that was a two man job for Zelda. FTS has the possibility to balloon into something MUCH larger. And frightening, if done wrong.
1) From The Sidelines will be put up on fanfiction.net, and I'll be updating it constantly. To keep things in chronological (Timeline) order, chapters will be labeled "Chapter 1: blah blah blah" which means that they'll come in piecemeal until we all decide the damn thing's done.
2) If you've got any other ideas as to where we could put it, by all means, pass it along. The more places "From The Sidelines" lands, the better. I want FTS to be THE collaborative work of Mega Man X Fanfiction. It only makes sense it lands lots of places. Including, perhaps, Capcom Unity? I've sent countless requests to the Fanfic guru at the Mega Man Network MONTHS ago, but never got a response back. I'd still like to have that site host it, so if there are movers and shakers viewing this, get on that mod's case to holler back.
3) As the stories roll in, we'll have need for editors as well. If you're interested in being an editor for the FTS project, go ahead and E-Mail me the same way. Magus, I recall your brother's done edit work for you before? Think he'd be up for some more?
4) Be sure to list "Written by so and so" at the beginning of your work, so people know who to thank. Hyperlinks to your private domains? Why the Hell not. It'd help.
Okay, sport. That's a lot of huff and puff. But why should I get involved?
Aah, the old "Don't be the first to jump onto the wagon" bit.
Authors who have currently agreed to participate in this project include:
-Magus523 from Fanfiction.net (Important Mega Man related works: Novelizations from Mega Man 3 to Mega Man 7. He and I've been very careful to line up our works so there's a shared character and events history from 2040 to 2118...Years this project doesn't cover, but is worth a glance at.)
-Revokov, most famous for his "Mega Man X Supercondensed" series, which is a laugh and a half...but also for the more serious and earth-shaking work "Terrornova". It's a good read, if you're into it. In the clearest example of why not all parts of continuity need to be the same, Rev places MHHQ on the United States Eastern seaboard and I say MHHQ is in New Tokyo, Japan. Oddly enough, it doesn't bother either of us.
-Red Draco, the holiest of holies in the Mega Man X Fanfiction world, has even agreed to put together a small little thing if the mood strikes her. I won't be telling you what, though. :P That's her secret.
Okay, so this Timeline...Let's see it.
As promised, this is the Mega Man related Timeline for the so-called "Erico-verse"...someone apparently put up a few tidbits about me and my work up at TV Tropes.
The Timeline is divided into four sections:
PRE-MEGA MAN......Original Mega Man....Mega Man X....Post Mega Man X.
( The Timeline for From The Sidelines )
-----------------------------
And there you have it, people.
Let's get to work.
-Erico
current music: "Chasing The Angels" Iron Eagle 2
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| Wednesday, August 12th, 2009
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1:17 pm - Some Days...
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I wonder where my brain is.
I had to look back into earlier Starfox chapters to find what I named General Gray's first name...
And while I was there, I noticed I set up Milo Granger as a Sergeant in the beginning, and then he somehow became a Lieutenant.
Welp, all searches later, I've finally fixed, modified, and re-uploaded the material with the correct rank for our favorite ring-tailed raccoon sniper and Peppy/Slippy hybrid.
Geez.
I'm making a reference guide for all of these names and ranks. It's utterly ridiculous I should make that big of an error.
-Erico
current music: Blaster Master; Blasting Again (Rush Boy Theme)
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Sunday, August 9th, 2009
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2:01 pm - TV Observation
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AMC has story...
At USA, characters are welcome...
TNT has the drama...
TBS is very funny...
So who covers the PLOT?
-Erico
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| Sunday, August 2nd, 2009
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12:04 am - New Starfox is UP!
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Starfox: Sunrise Over Lylat just got a much deserved update.
-Erico
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| Thursday, July 30th, 2009
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1:59 pm - Doing Mah Civic Duty
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Now, then... (Cracks knuckles)
Time to finish this chapter of Starfox. I'm tired of them still sitting on Corneria.
-Erico
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| Wednesday, July 15th, 2009
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2:41 pm
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Only two more days and I'm done with these honking summer classes...
Today's challenge to all 'Ficlet authors:
I dare you to write a short story about a small portion of the life of Blues/Protoman after the warp accident that sent him into the heart of Africa and left Light and Wily thinking he was dead.
That's Circa 2069, if you're going by my calendar. 2067, Protoman's created. 2070, Rock is activated.
-Erico
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