"Thinking outrageously, I write in cursive..."
No really, I do. In fact, I've been bemoaning this week the apparent death of handwriting as a medium. No one these days writes in a cursive hand, and the world is the poorer for it! The nadir has come now at University: all coursework must be word processed. This means not only a lack of aesthetic pleasure to the work, but people can use spell checkers to boot! <splutters>
*OK, old man rant over*
That introductory quote comes from a Sufjan Stevens song, whom I saw at Shepherds Bush on Monday. He's not quite normal SG fare, but I very much enjoyed it. To make a shameless piece of self promotion, you can read my review of the gig here: http://www.soundsxp.com/2465.shtml (along with the added bonus of seeing my real name
)
Oh, and for those that haven't had enough of my self indulgent prattle, here's the latest installment of my story!
With a haste borne out of desperation, Mia drew up the window and peered out to the street below. Directly beneath the window was the tavern's sign of a Silver Crescent. She should be able to grab onto it, and from there the descent would be easy. Knowing that further thought would give rise to indecision, Mia climbed up onto the window-ledge, steadied herself, and jumped. She judged the distance perfectly, and without panic, grabbed onto the sign as she fell. It immediately began to give way, the aging timbers unable to support her weight, so she quickly let go and let herself fall, landing nimbly on the balls of her feet despite the sizeable distance. It was now bitingly cold on the open street, and the air was deathly still, as if held in anticipation. But Mia paid the temperature no heed, realising that picking up Gadrion's trail was imperative to her.
The strange man had long disappeared up the road, and Mia set off after him at a run; her footfalls light, and not breaking the stillness of the night. She had gone but a short way when the road divided into two. After a flickering moment of distress, Mia trusted her instincts and set off apace down the left hand of the intersection. Nowhere could she see Gadrion in the half-lit street, and was considering turning back to take the other route when she was seized by the arm and hauled roughly into an alleyway. Emitting a strangled gasp, Mia's protests were brought to a swift halt by a calloused hand clamping itself over her mouth. The man held her firmly, preventing all struggle, but paid her no heed as he listened intently to the apparent silence surrounding them. After several moments he broke the silence by whispering a question into the night air, the escaped breath wreathing his head in vapour:
"Why do you follow that man? What business have you with him?" Without looking down at her, he removed his hand, indicating she should respond. Mia saw no reason to lie:
"he has information that directly concerns me." The response struck a chord with the man,and he turned his head sharply to look at her for the first time...
It was as if an electric shock had coursed through his body. "You are one of them!" He gasped, and fumbled around in the depths of his coat, all the while keeping Mia pinned down. A distinct mask of fear was painted upon his grizzled face as he produced a stout piece of rope and hurriedly bound her hands together.
"I'm doing this for your own safety as much as mine," he murmured as he pulled the rope blood-stemmingly taut around her wrists.
"My safety?!" Mia spluttered, no longer able to keep her composure. "Surely it would be much safer for me if I had the means to defend myself?"
"Perhaps." The man answered; "but it's better for us both if you don't have the means to attack." Mia's anger towards the man was rising: all the past two day's events and the frustration of not being in control was building up to bursting point. The man seemed to sense this and was immediately concerned;
"please, you must not let the anger control you. I do not intend to harm you in any way!" "Then that is why you haul me to the floor and bind my hands? What concern is my business to you!?" She was beginning to feel the same disgust as she had towards the man Ruskan, dead by her hand a matter of hours ago. This time though, it was coupled with a burning anger: at least Gadrion had conducted himself in a civilized manner, no matter how suspicious his demeanour. And now, because of this dishevelled street mugger, she had lost the only connection she had with her memories. Flames danced in front of her eyes, and she lashed out with all her body weight at the object of her hatred. He was ready for the assault though, and jumped away from her, producing a bottle as if from nowhere. Before Mia had a chance to move again he had pulled the stopper from the bottle and launched it's contents at her head. As she felt the liquid strike her face the flames faded from her vision, and things slowly began to dim. She groggily struggled upright, until the pressure became to much for her, and she slumped back down to the floor, unconscious.
With a haste borne out of desperation, Mia drew up the window and peered out to the street below. Directly beneath the window was the tavern's sign of a Silver Crescent. She should be able to grab onto it, and from there the descent would be easy. Knowing that further thought would give rise to indecision, Mia climbed up onto the window-ledge, steadied herself, and jumped. She judged the distance perfectly, and without panic, grabbed onto the sign as she fell. It immediately began to give way, the aging timbers unable to support her weight, so she quickly let go and let herself fall, landing nimbly on the balls of her feet despite the sizeable distance. It was now bitingly cold on the open street, and the air was deathly still, as if held in anticipation. But Mia paid the temperature no heed, realising that picking up Gadrion's trail was imperative to her.
The strange man had long disappeared up the road, and Mia set off after him at a run; her footfalls light, and not breaking the stillness of the night. She had gone but a short way when the road divided into two. After a flickering moment of distress, Mia trusted her instincts and set off apace down the left hand of the intersection. Nowhere could she see Gadrion in the half-lit street, and was considering turning back to take the other route when she was seized by the arm and hauled roughly into an alleyway. Emitting a strangled gasp, Mia's protests were brought to a swift halt by a calloused hand clamping itself over her mouth. The man held her firmly, preventing all struggle, but paid her no heed as he listened intently to the apparent silence surrounding them. After several moments he broke the silence by whispering a question into the night air, the escaped breath wreathing his head in vapour:
"Why do you follow that man? What business have you with him?" Without looking down at her, he removed his hand, indicating she should respond. Mia saw no reason to lie:
"he has information that directly concerns me." The response struck a chord with the man,and he turned his head sharply to look at her for the first time...
It was as if an electric shock had coursed through his body. "You are one of them!" He gasped, and fumbled around in the depths of his coat, all the while keeping Mia pinned down. A distinct mask of fear was painted upon his grizzled face as he produced a stout piece of rope and hurriedly bound her hands together.
"I'm doing this for your own safety as much as mine," he murmured as he pulled the rope blood-stemmingly taut around her wrists.
"My safety?!" Mia spluttered, no longer able to keep her composure. "Surely it would be much safer for me if I had the means to defend myself?"
"Perhaps." The man answered; "but it's better for us both if you don't have the means to attack." Mia's anger towards the man was rising: all the past two day's events and the frustration of not being in control was building up to bursting point. The man seemed to sense this and was immediately concerned;
"please, you must not let the anger control you. I do not intend to harm you in any way!" "Then that is why you haul me to the floor and bind my hands? What concern is my business to you!?" She was beginning to feel the same disgust as she had towards the man Ruskan, dead by her hand a matter of hours ago. This time though, it was coupled with a burning anger: at least Gadrion had conducted himself in a civilized manner, no matter how suspicious his demeanour. And now, because of this dishevelled street mugger, she had lost the only connection she had with her memories. Flames danced in front of her eyes, and she lashed out with all her body weight at the object of her hatred. He was ready for the assault though, and jumped away from her, producing a bottle as if from nowhere. Before Mia had a chance to move again he had pulled the stopper from the bottle and launched it's contents at her head. As she felt the liquid strike her face the flames faded from her vision, and things slowly began to dim. She groggily struggled upright, until the pressure became to much for her, and she slumped back down to the floor, unconscious.
No really, I do. In fact, I've been bemoaning this week the apparent death of handwriting as a medium. No one these days writes in a cursive hand, and the world is the poorer for it! The nadir has come now at University: all coursework must be word processed. This means not only a lack of aesthetic pleasure to the work, but people can use spell checkers to boot! <splutters>
*OK, old man rant over*
That introductory quote comes from a Sufjan Stevens song, whom I saw at Shepherds Bush on Monday. He's not quite normal SG fare, but I very much enjoyed it. To make a shameless piece of self promotion, you can read my review of the gig here: http://www.soundsxp.com/2465.shtml (along with the added bonus of seeing my real name
)
Oh, and for those that haven't had enough of my self indulgent prattle, here's the latest installment of my story!
With a haste borne out of desperation, Mia drew up the window and peered out to the street below. Directly beneath the window was the tavern's sign of a Silver Crescent. She should be able to grab onto it, and from there the descent would be easy. Knowing that further thought would give rise to indecision, Mia climbed up onto the window-ledge, steadied herself, and jumped. She judged the distance perfectly, and without panic, grabbed onto the sign as she fell. It immediately began to give way, the aging timbers unable to support her weight, so she quickly let go and let herself fall, landing nimbly on the balls of her feet despite the sizeable distance. It was now bitingly cold on the open street, and the air was deathly still, as if held in anticipation. But Mia paid the temperature no heed, realising that picking up Gadrion's trail was imperative to her.
The strange man had long disappeared up the road, and Mia set off after him at a run; her footfalls light, and not breaking the stillness of the night. She had gone but a short way when the road divided into two. After a flickering moment of distress, Mia trusted her instincts and set off apace down the left hand of the intersection. Nowhere could she see Gadrion in the half-lit street, and was considering turning back to take the other route when she was seized by the arm and hauled roughly into an alleyway. Emitting a strangled gasp, Mia's protests were brought to a swift halt by a calloused hand clamping itself over her mouth. The man held her firmly, preventing all struggle, but paid her no heed as he listened intently to the apparent silence surrounding them. After several moments he broke the silence by whispering a question into the night air, the escaped breath wreathing his head in vapour:
"Why do you follow that man? What business have you with him?" Without looking down at her, he removed his hand, indicating she should respond. Mia saw no reason to lie:
"he has information that directly concerns me." The response struck a chord with the man,and he turned his head sharply to look at her for the first time...
It was as if an electric shock had coursed through his body. "You are one of them!" He gasped, and fumbled around in the depths of his coat, all the while keeping Mia pinned down. A distinct mask of fear was painted upon his grizzled face as he produced a stout piece of rope and hurriedly bound her hands together.
"I'm doing this for your own safety as much as mine," he murmured as he pulled the rope blood-stemmingly taut around her wrists.
"My safety?!" Mia spluttered, no longer able to keep her composure. "Surely it would be much safer for me if I had the means to defend myself?"
"Perhaps." The man answered; "but it's better for us both if you don't have the means to attack." Mia's anger towards the man was rising: all the past two day's events and the frustration of not being in control was building up to bursting point. The man seemed to sense this and was immediately concerned;
"please, you must not let the anger control you. I do not intend to harm you in any way!" "Then that is why you haul me to the floor and bind my hands? What concern is my business to you!?" She was beginning to feel the same disgust as she had towards the man Ruskan, dead by her hand a matter of hours ago. This time though, it was coupled with a burning anger: at least Gadrion had conducted himself in a civilized manner, no matter how suspicious his demeanour. And now, because of this dishevelled street mugger, she had lost the only connection she had with her memories. Flames danced in front of her eyes, and she lashed out with all her body weight at the object of her hatred. He was ready for the assault though, and jumped away from her, producing a bottle as if from nowhere. Before Mia had a chance to move again he had pulled the stopper from the bottle and launched it's contents at her head. As she felt the liquid strike her face the flames faded from her vision, and things slowly began to dim. She groggily struggled upright, until the pressure became to much for her, and she slumped back down to the floor, unconscious.
With a haste borne out of desperation, Mia drew up the window and peered out to the street below. Directly beneath the window was the tavern's sign of a Silver Crescent. She should be able to grab onto it, and from there the descent would be easy. Knowing that further thought would give rise to indecision, Mia climbed up onto the window-ledge, steadied herself, and jumped. She judged the distance perfectly, and without panic, grabbed onto the sign as she fell. It immediately began to give way, the aging timbers unable to support her weight, so she quickly let go and let herself fall, landing nimbly on the balls of her feet despite the sizeable distance. It was now bitingly cold on the open street, and the air was deathly still, as if held in anticipation. But Mia paid the temperature no heed, realising that picking up Gadrion's trail was imperative to her.
The strange man had long disappeared up the road, and Mia set off after him at a run; her footfalls light, and not breaking the stillness of the night. She had gone but a short way when the road divided into two. After a flickering moment of distress, Mia trusted her instincts and set off apace down the left hand of the intersection. Nowhere could she see Gadrion in the half-lit street, and was considering turning back to take the other route when she was seized by the arm and hauled roughly into an alleyway. Emitting a strangled gasp, Mia's protests were brought to a swift halt by a calloused hand clamping itself over her mouth. The man held her firmly, preventing all struggle, but paid her no heed as he listened intently to the apparent silence surrounding them. After several moments he broke the silence by whispering a question into the night air, the escaped breath wreathing his head in vapour:
"Why do you follow that man? What business have you with him?" Without looking down at her, he removed his hand, indicating she should respond. Mia saw no reason to lie:
"he has information that directly concerns me." The response struck a chord with the man,and he turned his head sharply to look at her for the first time...
It was as if an electric shock had coursed through his body. "You are one of them!" He gasped, and fumbled around in the depths of his coat, all the while keeping Mia pinned down. A distinct mask of fear was painted upon his grizzled face as he produced a stout piece of rope and hurriedly bound her hands together.
"I'm doing this for your own safety as much as mine," he murmured as he pulled the rope blood-stemmingly taut around her wrists.
"My safety?!" Mia spluttered, no longer able to keep her composure. "Surely it would be much safer for me if I had the means to defend myself?"
"Perhaps." The man answered; "but it's better for us both if you don't have the means to attack." Mia's anger towards the man was rising: all the past two day's events and the frustration of not being in control was building up to bursting point. The man seemed to sense this and was immediately concerned;
"please, you must not let the anger control you. I do not intend to harm you in any way!" "Then that is why you haul me to the floor and bind my hands? What concern is my business to you!?" She was beginning to feel the same disgust as she had towards the man Ruskan, dead by her hand a matter of hours ago. This time though, it was coupled with a burning anger: at least Gadrion had conducted himself in a civilized manner, no matter how suspicious his demeanour. And now, because of this dishevelled street mugger, she had lost the only connection she had with her memories. Flames danced in front of her eyes, and she lashed out with all her body weight at the object of her hatred. He was ready for the assault though, and jumped away from her, producing a bottle as if from nowhere. Before Mia had a chance to move again he had pulled the stopper from the bottle and launched it's contents at her head. As she felt the liquid strike her face the flames faded from her vision, and things slowly began to dim. She groggily struggled upright, until the pressure became to much for her, and she slumped back down to the floor, unconscious.
VIEW 14 of 14 COMMENTS
If she thought this was a phase that would never actually happen, I don't think she'd be so annoyed. And much as I hate the fact, she only ever said she was worried about not seeing her grandchildren. Not her daughter.
I know my mother loves me, but its in a very clumsy, completely sporadic way.
Once she makes the time for me and my brother that she makes for her cats or her friends or her job, THEN she can comment on what I do with my life
Aaah, short films are most definitely the way forward. Most long films aren't good enough to hold my attention, and start to lose it way before the end. With the exception of LoTR. I really do want to see the corpse bride, but I'm tempted to wait until we get it in where I work, so I can watch it for free
Mary Bennet? you strange creature, you... always wanted her to marry Mr Collins though.
yes indeed as in P&P, although I was actually named after a fictitious Victorian whore from a Sherlock Holmes story... thanks Mum. gold star if you can name her