I love my bed

Sådär har hunnit uträttat dagens ärenden och med det är hösten fixad.
Nu ligger jag i min sköna säng med datorn på magen och kollar på The Voice US, som jag tagit hem helt *host* lagligt... Hur smexy är inte Adam? Jag kan inte komma över det.
Ska nog skriva på "Marcado de por vida" idag också, är mer taggad för det idag mot vad jag var igår.

Pennan mäktigare än svärdet...

..och mäktigare än något annat just nu. Inte för att jag använder pennan så mycket när jag skriver, lättare och fortare/bekvämare med datorn så klart. Har varit så jäklans produktiv nu den senaste timmen att jag blir galet glad men också rädd/stressad att snart rinner inspirationen ur mig.
Jag älskar mina små gangsta boys/mördarmaskiner i El Salvador :P
Kvällens metod: Jag har klippt och klistrat typ och suttit ihop scener med varandra och kapitel efter varandra och har nu hela 11 sidor än så länge. Nu ska jag försöka få ihop allting snyggt. Vilken dröm det skulle vara att få klart detta projekt på bara några dagar men det känns som en oändlig omöjlighet. Men man ska aldrig säga aldrig. Hoppas kunna få ihop något sammanhängande så att jag kan låta någon läsa det jag skrivit, för just nu skulle nog ingen hänga med på vad som händer i texten om jag lät någon läsa den nu, så jag får vänta. *suck*

Hur som helst, jag behövde skriva av mig lite men jag är säker på att nästan ingen förstår vad jag babblar om för jag hänger inne i min egna bubbla. Ska snart lämna den dock, dags för sängen, känner mig trött efter en rushig arbetsdag. Imorgon ska det solas med Maria. Längtar! Och fira lillebror som blir jubileums ålder i år. 20 år. Aaaw. Puttenutt.

God natt

In it for life

Fick en scen i huvudet, antar att Ángel/Chico ville lätta på hjärtat so I let him. Jag vet att det kan låta stört att mina karaktärer kommer till mig och vill "prata/lätta på hjärtat" men ibland gör de det och då är jag glad att jag har datorn eller ett block/papper i närheten. Eftersom scenen kom bara sådär och eftersom jag precis skrivit ner den så har jag inte direkt lagt tid på att redigera så vissa ord kanske inte passar in i sammanhanget osv plus.

"Im sorry Oscar, I don't, I don't have the money."
Diablo grabbed the man who was kneeling by the collar. The man's eyes were filled with even more panic, and as they did sweet started to appear on his (blank) forehead.
"I promise you Oscar. I will give it to you. My business has not gone so well this month. But I'll give it to you. I have always given you the money? Even in Sanchez days I always paid on time. Didn't I?"
"But this time you didn't!" Diablo growled. His eyes were mad out of fury like his whole body was on fire. A couple of seconds passed in silence. Diablo had released his grip on the man who was still kneeling to the cold floor. His gaze kept shifting nervously like he didn't know where to settle his eyes as Diablo paced back and forward in the small convenience store. I didn't know what to make of the situation. But even though I didn't like it I had to stay and watch whatever might happen. Diablo had asked me to tag along and it was my duty to do so. As a new homie you're not allowed to say no to your gangleader, his rules are your law.
"Okay Miguel, I understand. I'll give you this week to get me my money." I understood that if Miguel didn't pay his taxes my homies would probably ravish the entire store till you couldn't call it a store anymore.
Miguel nodded "feverishly" because of Diablo's mercy.
"Thank you thank you thank you, Oscar, you are a good person." He reached out his hands towards Diablo but Diablo didn't take his hands, instead he took one last look at the store and walked out on to the street.

Skrivarlust

Glöööh, blöööh skit-tråkigt när skrivarlusten tar slut juuuuu!!!
Finns så mycket att skriva men hjärnan bara citerar Selda: Jag säger STOPP! Skitdrygt.
Så här sitter jag nu och lyssnar på Led Zeppelin, Nirvana, Foo Fighters och Linkin Park/Dead by Sunrise, i ett tappert försök att tvinga mig att skriva mer på SOMEWHERE I BELONG.
Men säger hjärnan stopp så ja, då säger den STOPP... :/

Jag gillar det jag skrivit hittills, har lyckats bygga upp tre kapitel i alla fall, eller ja, ryggraden till de. Tack Kurt Cobain för inspirationen till Ayden, Noah'll need him!
Vill koppla av till Two and a half men då försvinner verkligen inspirationen kan jag säga.
Mitt dilemma är just nu hur jag ska lyckas bygga upp hur huvudpersonen åldras på ett snyggt sätt. I slutet ska han vara ca 23-25 år och det börjar med att han är 11 år. Kan han bli typ 13-14 i kapitel två eller blir det väldigt fel?
Help me out here, please!

There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold. And she's buying a stairway to heaven

SOMEWHERE I BELONG

Jag har fått jätte mycket inspiration av Chesters biografi och nu sitter jag här, småsnyftar, och skriver så att fingrarna brinner.
Som rubriken lyder heter det nya "projektet" SOMEWHERE I BELONG (ja, från denna låt som förövrigt är en av mina favoriter) Jag har egentligen för många skrivarprojekt påbörjade och ibland svider det att börja på ett nytt för då betyder det att jag försummar ett annat och jag undrar verkligen när något av alla mina projekt ska gå i land.
Men det som är spännande (för mig själv) med SOMEWHERE I BELONG är att det har något nytt. Jag har inte skrivit riktigt så här verklighetsskildrat på länge, vilket jag tycker är intressant. Jag ser verkligen fram emot att se hur det urartar sig, och nu har jag ännu en anledning att droga Linkin Park musik, som är hela/halva inspirationen till det här projektet. Har än så länge skrivit (suttit i 2 timmar) ca. 3 & 1/2 sidor på ungefär första kapitlet plus lite andra scener som poppar upp i huvudet medan jag skriver. Kämpar med att göra allting kapitelvis, i ordning, men ibland är det inte alltid så lätt.

I made you..and therefor I am your master

“You...” Caskus whispered with a shaky voice, narrowing his eyes. “You...”
Kain bent down and grinned back at him.
“I love that terrified face of yours. I love hearing you beg Caskus Caelestis.” He leaned closer so that he could whisper in Caskus ear without anyone hearing. “It remind me sooo much of your friend...the friend you could not save...the friend you loved soo much. Now what was his name...”
Old images of Nicholas begun swirling around in Caskus's confused head.
“You bastard!” He screamed. His throat so sour, it burned like fire every time he made an attempt to speak.
Kain's eyes flashed red before him and suddenly he was drawn backs hundreds of years in time to the dark forest where he could hear his mothers scream, where he could feel the sharp teeth digging deeper in to his neck. The aching pain and the hooded creature.... the bloodstained grin and the... the eyes, the red eyes.
“I – made – you....” Kain hissed softly and gripped Caskus firmly by the chin. “I made you and therefor, I am you're master, Caskus Caelestis and you are no man of noble blood. You belong to me..”

Old memories

Så, nu har jag skrivit något helt nytt, ett nytt fenomen, eller nya händelser kanske, som jag inte kommit på innan. Fick sån stark inspiration från denna bild.
Här är det jag skrev inklusive inspirationsbilden, nu ska jag sova, trots att jag är inne i mitt esse, men jag måste verkligen sova.

Utkastet handlar om Caskus som drömmer tillbakablickar ur sitt gamla liv, när han fortfarande var människa, om sin bästa vän Nicholas som blev mördad av en vampyr.

It was monday forenoon and as usual we were late for school. Not that we bothered, but unluckily our parents did. With threates of suspending our weekly allowance and giving us curfew after curfew they tried to force us to go to that bloody school. Unfortunatley for them we didn't let their threats scare us. We were young, rash, wealthy and handsome. Two men who had barely seen the world but still thought they knew everything there was to know about it. We were the kings of not only our neighborhood but the entire town, maybe even Britannia...
The image of the two innocent youngsters on their way to school, who laughed and enjoyed one anothers company vanished as Caskus was dragged out of his sleep.
”Nicholas...”
He sat up with a rumbling roar, pulled the sheet off him and got out of bed in seconds. His bare torso was drenched in cold sweat, as was his bed.
”Nicholas.” The voice in his head whispered weakly, desperate to be heard.
”No!” He screamed and grabbed the glassvase on his desk, throwing it hard to his feet. ”I don't want to...!” Water and glass were mixed as the vase hit the floor in an explosive crash that echoed among the stonewalls. "I don't want to remember."
He covered his face with shaky hands, not wanting to be remembered by what he had just seen. But as he closed his eyes he was dragged back into it.

Nicholas checked shirt was soggy with blood. His eyes weren't smiling like they used to, they were filled with pain and fright. My bloody hands trembled as I looked from them to Nicholas. He was so helpless, I was helpless.. unable to do anything... unable to save his life...

”Stop it!” Caskus screamed. ”Don't you dare play tricks on me!” Tears started dripping down from his dark blue eyes. ”Don't you dare...” He sobbed, sinking down below the bed, surrounded by the broken glass. ”Don't you dare...”
He pulled his fingers through his long darkblonde hair. He had let death take Nicholas... he had not tried to fight for him to survive... He had let death have its prey...

Skriva, skriva, skriva!

Försöker skriva lite nya scener innan jag går till sängs.
Fick tag på en riktig fin bild på Adrien Brunier för inte så länge sen. Adrien = min musa för karaktären Caskus ur Cyriacus: Living Dead.


- See ya!

Kiara , the wisdom keepers

Robert Mirabal - Indian Johnny

Earl Eckles looked at us with sulky paleblue eyes. It was obvious redskins weren't on the top of this sheriff's list of/over favourite people and he just thought we were wasting his time when we called the sheriffdepartment to send someone over. But it wasn't like we'd asked for Earl Eckles. Sheriff Eckles was the typical american middle-aged man, a bit overweight, pale and grumpy. He thought he busted his ass of at work everyday when he really didn't do much but eating. The sheriffsdepartment let him stay on his post because they felt sorry for him, like he wouldn't manage to get another job if they sacked him. He was pretty sad to look at, knowing he shared a dirty cottage with his elderly mother and two straylooking dogs. Today he wore a large brown cowboy hat on top of his small head and his beige shirt tucked into his pants so that his stomach was well notefied. He regularly polished his big blonde moustache with his chubby fingers while flipping through his empty notepad. "Mhm.." he muttered and licked the tip of his ink pen. "So you say there's strange things moving in your woods huh?" He looked up at us for atleast two seconds then his eyes were back on the notepad again. "Ever heard of bears, mr.Darkwater?" We all heard the mocking in his voice and I could feel that the anger in Paul was about to overboil. He looked at Earl with burning eyes. Like a child craving for attention I pulled in his shirt and when he did look at me I stared back at him with narrowed eyes and a sour face. He muttered at me with disapproval, telling me he wouldn't play mister nice-guy today(towards this policeman.) "I'll take care of this sheriff Eckles." A determined voice said a few feet away from us. It was (old) sheriff Billy Joe Norton and with him Pine Ridge policeforce's latest recruit, one of our own, Izaac Johnston son of Alan "Grandfather" Johnston, the tribe shaman. Izaac (Johnston) was a tall and slender man in his late twenties with strong facial features and long black hair - you could kinda compare him to Kocoum of Pocahontas the disney version. He was adored by more than half of the of women in the Pine Ridge reservation. Whenever he was around they just couldn't keep their eyes of, of him. He was both humble and gentle plus he didn't talk much which made him look like the perfect listener, something the ladies seemed to consider as a good thing. "Mister sheriff Norton." An old, shaky voice said from a far distance. It was Floyd Darkwater supported by his granddaughter Maya, who had come to join us. He walked very stiffly with the stick in his left hand and Maya on his right. "Chief Darkwater." Sheriff Norton said. They shoke hands. Chief Darkwater looked at him with old worried grey eyes which were almost fully covered by wrinkles. "It's here again is it not sheriff Norton? The evil spirit." "We're not sure yet chief." "I try to protect my people, but what can an old man do these days." "That's why we're here sir. We'll have our people search through your woods. With your permission off course."
* Later: "What did your grandfather mean with "it's here again"? Don't tell me this has happened before." Kiara said. "It has, many years before we were even thought of. When my parents were young there were killings in the forest, just like now. Killings of young men." "Didn't anyone get caught?" "Nope.. no one cared about us back then, not that they do now either for that matter." He rouled on to his back. "That's why he calls it the evil spirit." he looked at me. "My grandfather has heard real messed up things about what the white man did to our ancestors, but he didn't think no man could be the cause of those young mens deaths. It was the way the bodies looked like. No humanbeing could have done that. He was sure it was an evil spirit who had come to punish us for something we'd done wrong."

Orättvisa mellan könen

Gör lite research till min "roman" (kan man kalla det för det? Im blushing^^ ) angående jump-in's (= när du går med i ett gäng) i MS, hade trott att det höll på i 30 sek. men tyckte att detta verkade vara alldeles för långt.
Hittade infon jag sökte och jag frågar mig själv varför måste vi tjejer alltid ha det värst? Hellre blir jag slagen i 13 sekunder av sisådär 3 pers, än att tvingas ha sex med typ halva gänget för att bli intagen.
MS-13 members are typically initiated by a process they term “jumped in,” which involves a group-administered beating. Typically, gang members surround and attack the candidate while other gang members evaluate how well he defends himself and his ability to endure punches. This jumping-in lasts for 13 seconds. Females are usually “sexed” in by having sex with multiple members of the gang.

Fick förresten värsta slutscenen i skallen på väg hem från boxningen, jag hade klivit av bussen och slog på Daddy Yankee låtarna jag har, kom till "Talento de barrio" och då bara kom den, slutscenen, som en bomb! Jag kände värsta värken i bröstet (det är verkligen sant) som att jag fick värsta panik för vad jag skulle göra med mina karaktärer, kanske fick jag ångest för hur det skulle sluta? Jag "hörde" Chico's röst i mitt huvud. Jag såg rädslan i hans ögon, han som gått från pojke till man och så tillbaka till pojke igen.
Coolt var det hur som helst, jävligt coolt. Har nog aldrig känt såhär starkt förut när jag skrivit, alltså känt en slutscen såhär starkt, att såhär vill jag ha den.

Skrivtorka, men många karaktärer

Har haft lite skrivtorka på författarfronten. Skittråkigt jag vet. Vill skapa, men kan inte komma på något. Lerklumpen ligger framför mig, redo att bli skulpterad men det blir bara skit. Det är som att hjärnan blockerar min förmåga. Men jag får inte får läcka ord som ett såll.

Så därför delar jag med mig av karaktärerna som än så länge finns med i The Salvadorian in My Heart/In it For Life. (som utspelar sig ca. 2009/slutet av boken ska utspela sig 2009) det med årtal är lite krångligt än så länge, har inte fått ihop alla pusselbitarna.)

"El Soldado" - Bott i USA, LA, innan han skickades tillbaka till El Salvador vid 30 års ålder. Tillhörde tidigare ett MS gäng i L.A. innan han blev tillbaka skickad till El Salvador där han fortplantade MS13 efter att fler homies anlänt från USA.

Sanchez "El Maquina" Medina - (född 1981 död 2001). Ex-ledare av Los Hermanos och den äldste av Medina bröderna. Vid 18 års ålder åkte han in i fängelset för innehavande av droger, efter två år släpptes han men polisen bestämde sig ändå för att hålla hård koll på honom eftersom han var en MS13 ledare. Dock blev Sanchez mördad av en medlem ur gänget 18 när han släpptes fri.

Oscar "Diablo" Medina - (född 1984). 25år gammal och Maras ledare sen 8 år tillbaka. Växte upp i gänget när brodern var deras ledare. Blev riktig/aktiv medlem efter 10års ålder (mellan 11-12). Den äldre medlemmen och vicepresidenten "namn" tog över rollen som ledare medan Sanchez satt i fängelset(1999). Efter Sanchez död, 2001 när Diablo var 17 år tog han(Diablo) över som ledare, som Sanchez bestämt. Han ansågs först vara en ynkrygg tills han visade sitt rätta jag efter 18s mord på brodern. Diablo dödade fem gängmedlemar ur 18 inklusive sin brors mördare, tillsammans med få andra ur Los Hermanos. (2001).
Hans flickvän är gängmedlemen Mercedes Morales som han har tre barn med.
Ángel beskriver Diablos utseende som en målad tavla. Diablos kropp är full av tatueringar, förutom ansiktet som bara har två tårar nedanför vänstra ögat och en liten tatuering på örat.

Lawrence "El Gato" Medina - (1992 - 2008). Den yngste av de tre Medina bröderna. Död av 18.

Julio "El Lagrima" Hernández - Diablos vicepresident, som tar över ledarrollen om Diablo åker in i fängelset eller dör. Har orden "Only God Can Judge Me" intatuerade på bröstet med kursiv stil. En tår nedanför vänstra ögat.

Melvin "Cuchillo" Castillo - andre "vicepresident". Har ett stort ärr som löper över högra ögat. Har MS 13 intatuerat med gotisk stil på hakan.

Ángel "El Chico" Martínez - (född 1992) skriven i jag-form. Är bokens huvudperson. Han har haft kontakt med Mara innan hans brors död och han visste vem Diablo var innan han gick med i Mara som 15-16 åring. Hans första tatuering var en tår nedanför vänstra ögats vrå för sin brors död. Blev medlem i Los Hermanos efter sin storebrors död (2008/2009)

Victor Martínez - (född 1986. död 2008) El Chicos storebror och var ex-medlem av Los Hermanos innan han blev avrättad av en 18 medlem som 22åring. Han var en av Diablos högre uppsatta homies. Blev medlem vid 15års ålder (2002), samma år som Diablo blev ledare för Los Hermanos.
Var tillsammans med Luna Gonzalez. Ca. år 2005 började Victor vilja ta sig ur gänget i smyg. Gjorde allt för att hans bror inte skulle hamna i Los Hermanos.

Mario "El Wings" - den som säljer knarket, ett av gängets intäkter.

Edwin "Joker" - den som säljer knarket

Silvia Martínez - Victor och El Chicos mamma. De har ingen pappa.

Alejandro "Asesino" Rojas -

Jesús "Lucifer" Lopéz -

"Gabino" -

Pace "El Zero" - har alltid en bandana runt huvudet.

"Lil Face" - ca 12 år. Den yngste och senaste medlemmen av Los Hermanos.

"Tito" - "Tito with the mad eyes"/"Mad-eyed Tito" gängets vilde, vill att saker och ting ska ske på stört, drar för snabba slutsatser etc

Mercedes Morales - ca. 18/19 år. Los Hermanos medlem, Diablos "fru". Har hand om knarket.

Luna Gonzalez - Los Hermanos medlem och Victors ex.

Charlie

Edwin

Killen till höger (första bilden) blev min inspiration till hur Joker ser ut. Tack vare hans tatuering.
Killen på mitten bilden är min vision av hur Paco ser ut. Längst ner har ni min älskade Diablo och bilden högst upp känner jag liknar hur jag vill att Cuchillo ska se ut (dock inte många tatueringar i ansiktet)

Skrivande och Musik

Musiken är en väldigt (om inte enormt!) viktig del av mitt skrivandet, det måste vara rätt låtar, sound, för att jag ska kunna komma in i scener, karaktärers tankesätt, situationer, känslor, etc. Utan musiken skulle jag inte kunna skriva på det sätt jag gör.
Bara för skojs skull delar jag med mig av min speciella spellista för "The Salvadorian in My Heart/In it For Life" (som den ser ut just nu):


01. Rumba - Daddy Yankee
02. Pa-kum-pa - Daddy Yankee
03. Infinito - Daddy Yankee
04. Somos de calle - Daddy Yankee
05. City of the Padres - El Dyablo
06. Killas (ft. The Game & Ice Cube) - Lil' Jon
07. Tu eres mi baby - Nicky Jam & Daddy Yankee
08. Live your life (remix) - Pitbull
09. Sensacion Del Bloque - Randy & De La Ghetto
10. 56 Barz - T.I.
11. Ready for whatever - T.I.
12 On top of the world (ft. Ludacris & B.O.B) - T.I.
13. Live your life (ft. Rihanna) - T.I.
14. Whats up whats haappnin - T.I.
15. Every chance I get - T.I.
16. You aint missin nothing - T.I.
17. Dead and gone (ft. Timberlake) - T.I.
18. El Heroe de mi Corazon - Tercer Cielo
19. La Calle - Tercer Cielo
20. My life (ft. Slim Thug & Trae) - Chamillionare
21. Only God can judge me - 2Pac
22. All eyez on me - 2Pac
23. Keep ya head up - 2Pac
24. Changes - 2Pac
25. Staring through my rearview - 2Pac
26. Atrevete-Te - Calle13

^^

Tillbaka till pennan

Hemma från jobbet, sitter inne på altanen och filar på min vampyr saga "Living Dead". Har gett "liv" till många nya karaktärer så att de gamla nästan börjar hamna i någon slags skugga. Men de nya karaktärerna ger verkligen nytt liv till sagan. Så de äldre får allt vänta på att återväckas.
Medan lyssnar jag på min favoritlåt med Plan Three; The common divided (går och nynnar på den stup i kvarten). Jag älskar Jacob Lovéns röst, den är så äkta!

Jalla bye

Ballads defeat (utkast)

Ballads legs gave up underneath him and he slowly fell to the ground. The sand whirled around his body in the small paddoc. He rolled over to the side and layed his head on the ground. He slowly shut his eyes with a dull snort. He heard the voices around him but he didn't know what they said. He'd never understood the two-legged animals who hurt him so badly. He couldn't remember trying to take over their family like they had with his. Images of sons and daughters flashed by in his head. Beautiful, horrible, incomprehensible images pierced through his bleeding heart. Like any other leaderstallion he hated the weakness that clutched him, that forced him to surrender and prevented him from standing on his feet, to be able to fence against the two-legged. He wanted to escape from what ever held him prisoner. Never before had he felt such hatred like he did now. He breathed heavy, the nostrils flashed red. Oh, how he longed for his family. He could give so smuch to see their faces again, like the familyfather he was. He saw the love of his life before him, Novella, the little light brown leadermare who had followed him through snowstorms when everyone else doubted, who had kept the curage when the dark was heavy. He opened his big hazelbrown eyes and neighed a high-pitched neigh in illusion that she would be there with him. Bravely he tried to get up from the ground but once again the legs collapsed underneath him and he crashed back to the sand. The defeat hit him in the face, the frustration screamed in his fragile body. He didn't want to lose what he was, strong and unbeatable. But the loneliness made itself reminded and he hated it.

Buckskin ranch

As my eyes flickered I saw them pass me by one at a time, quick yet graceful, like the legends they would be remembered as. And through centuries of generations they had conquered these lands, father to son, like a king passing down his crown to the prince and the prince would rule the kingdom. But as Freedom Fighter watched his kingdom fall apart he had no son to pass it on to, no next generation to leave behind to roam free along side cousins and enemies. Still he was not frightened and as the king he was he would not let them have him. No one would be allowed to put chains around his neck. He would stand tall til the last breathe.


Just nu: Westlife - What about now

Soooolsken

Sitter i solen just nu och steker mig med olivolja i fejan.
Dock med mina något tjocka höstjacka på mig (den gröna långa, fodrade). Har fortfarande inte blivit fullt frisk. Så jag kan inte ta mina annars så älskade långpromenader, som jag brukar ta mitt på dan när jag är ledig.
Och snart är det nästan bara 1 vecka kvar tills jag får upptäcka Japan. Nice huh?

Är så stolt över mig själv för att jag har kommit så långt på Eclipse, kap 16 snart avverkat.
Ser fram emot att se filmen, vill se Jacobs "attackerande"/aggressiva(?) kyss mot Bella. När jag kom till den scenen i boken blev jag verkligen, GO JACOB! Jag har väl nämnt att jag hejar på wolfpacket, hands down! Jag kanske inte direkt är team jacob, men jag är definatly team Paul, whop whop.

Och förresten, lillebror älskade vårjackan jag skaffat till honom i 18-års present. ^^
Nyappy me.

Nej nu ska jag njuta av solen och skriva vidare på ännu en ny... berättelse :p haha
Är så glad över att trådlösa internet funkar på tomten.

See you beneath the lunar light!

The Cyborg and The Princess

"I remember the day the riders came and took away the peace we had retained. They soared through the sky like a flock of blackbirds, the sound of them pierced in my head and hurt my soul."

Japp, jag har gjort det igen.
I förrgår, helt ur det blå kom jag på en ny saga.
Jag gillar den, jag får lite anime-feeling av den. Inspirerat av något vackert och sagolikt som bara Japan kan skapa.
Jag har döpt den till The Cyborg and The Princess.
Denna bild, till höger satte igång så mycket inspiration hos mig.

Sagan, som jag hoppas ska bli en novell, kul att för än gångs skull skriva färdigt något kanske?
Iallafall sagan handlar om Caelum folket - himlafolket (Caelum är det latinska ordet för himmel), som bor i himlen precis bland molnen, på flytande berg.
Huvudpersonerna är prinsessan (inget namn just nu) som just fyllt 17 år och hennes väktare, en cyborg vid namn Custodio, som har på begäran av hennes föräldrar vakat över henne ända sedan hennes födelse. Prinsessan vet dock inte att hennes väktare är en cyborg. Han ser ut som en ung man på ytan. Caelum folket har alltid levt i fred tills en dag då "ryttarna" kommer (har inte kommit på någon bakgrund för de ännu).
Som skrivet är sagan väldigt ny, därför är inte alla bitar på plats ännu, men jag känner att jag gillar den. Har länge velat skriva en science fiction-aktig saga.

Första utkastet (har verkligen INTE gått igenom detta!):

I had grown up with Custodio. He had been by my side since the day I was born and as far as I could remember his soft face had never changed/aged during all these years. He was my guardian, destined to keep me safe from danger with the order of my father, King Lucas and my gentle and protective mother, Queen (namn).
Heaven was beautiful that day. Painted in light blue and purple shades the sky was filled with harmonic cirrus clouds that merged across the open freedom I called home. Because I lived there among the white, cotton clouds in a large stonecastle with a pale blue roof and high reaching towers. The palace yard was fairly spacious but it was never enough to still my curiosity for exploring. Since the castle was built upon a massive mountain that float in the air, wandering around as a little child outside the castlewalls was strictly forbidden. Even so I didn't obey my parents rules very often which kept causing my mother to have minor heartattacks. My father once told me if I kept running around like this it would kill them both one day. Luckily for them Custodio was always there to keep me safe from whatever darkness my parents imagine lurking around the castle. But I had been an adventures child, even today, on my seventeenth birthday, I was still the curious creature I had always been. And as always Custodio was there behind me, watching my every step as I tried to leave the castle without getting caught. Strangely he always allowed me to sneak out and I always allowed him to follow me. I enjoyed his company and since I had never had any friends because of my shut-in and overprotecting life, he had sort of become my friend. Infact he had become my bestfriend. He didn't tell if he felt the same for me.
Great somniumbirds in different sparkling colours soared through the open sky as I stood on the flat roof of one of the highest towers watching them. I had secretly ridden a somniumbird once in my life, but that was a long time ago. I wasn't sure if I could remember what it felt like. But since that day I had longed to ride one again.
Custodio stood a few meters behind me with the hands on his back. His long, blue coat danced in the harsh wind, as did his paleblond hair. His grey eyes observed me watchfully as a light yellow vivid somniumbird suprisingly landed next to me. I put out my hand for it to sniff me. The bird reached out its short neb and touched my hand gently. Then it croaked and nudged me with his head while purring. It was the sign I had been waiting for, this bird wanted me to ride him through the open air. I took the chance and got up on his back. I could hear Custodio take one step forward, but I wouldn't listen to him, this was my day, my day to rule the sky. The big bird threw himself out from the roof and so we soared through the sky. The wind pulled my hair and cape. I had never felt this free before and now I remembered why I had longed for this day to come once again. I couldn't tell how many times I had dreamed of being on the back of a somniumbird. It was like magic. I closed my eyes and wondered around in my endless thoughts. Above the clouds everything was quite and peaceful until...
I woke from my daydreaming as soon as I heard dreadful noises. They seemed to come from something infront of me but I couldn't seen anything. We dived, or more like smashed throught the clouds, to provent ourselves from bump into the scary thing, whatever it was. As we got closer to the clouds I heard a familiar voice.
"Hold on (name)."
It was my saviour. Seated on a dragonlike creature he reached out his hand for me to take it. As the somniumbird was one of the sky's slowest animals it couldn't keep up with the speed I would need to escape the load noises. Custodio dragged me over to him and he held me tightly in his arms as he steered the dragoncreature towards the castle. The wind scratched my face so hard that my tears ran down my cheeks. The hunt for adventure and freedom had almost cost my life, and to make matters worse I was sure my parents would find out about this. I couldn't have been more right. As we landed on the palace yard they were already there, my mother in the arms of my father. He carried a stern look on his angular face.
Custodio put me down on the ground.
"What do you think you're doing?" Was the only thing my father said, yelled, to me as I walked past them on the way up to my room.
On my bed, locked up, I wondered what they had been trying to hide from me all life. Wasn't Caelum what they had told me, peaceful and harmonic? Did I live in a imaginary world while something dark grew stronger somewhere beyond the clouds? I had to find out. I got up from my bed and headed for the window. The palace yard was silent and empty. In the sky no animals roamed. What sort of evil thing was out there?

Caskus: Avah you've decived me

Ett litet utkast ur Cyriacus: Living Dead sagan.
Som vanligt har jag inte direkt gått igenom utkastet, det finns säkerligen mycket att ändra.
Cedric är nya Damon.

She fell down on her knees infront of her masters throne.
"You have deceived me, Avah."
I am your only shield and sword.
With eyes closed she felt the warm tears run down her cheeks.
"Please forgive my mistakes and spare me from the light."
"You know I don't tolerate/endure liars."
"Master, my purpose was never to harm nor hurt you."
"Cedric..."
The buffy keeper took one step forward but with a glimps of doubt in his eyes.
"Master." Simon said and nodded towards the woodendoors. They burst opened with a enormous power.
"Let her go Caskus!" Edan entered the room with furious steps, his voice was harsh.
"So this is your/the knight in shiney armour? I've been expecting you, Edan Pyrros Solon. You came earlier than I imagined. I must say, Im impressed by your curage." His eyes darkened in an evil grinn.
Edan growled a deep, furious growl.
"I won't let you touch her." He hurried to Avah's side.
Caskus put up his opened hand.
"Not so fast, mister Solon."
"You think I'll listen to you, prince..." He clinched his teeth.
Caskus glanced at Simon. The slender vampire/keeper fixed his narrowed eyes on the unwelcomed guest/intruder. In what looked like a storm Edan was cast backwards and hit his back in one of the columns at the doors. He got up on his feet faster than a couger and rushed toward Caskus, but once again Simons telekinese powers threw him back before he could reach them.
"I knew you were foolish, but I didn't think you would be this naive, halfbreed. Im disapointed. I thought it would be much easier, to kill an unpure one."
"Cedric, Celindior, take him downstairs." Caskus mumbled.
Avah's green eyes were filled with tears. This was never meant to happen, the people she had hold dear was never meant to be destroyed because of her.
The two strong vampires grabbed Edan by his arms and dragged him across the floor. His head hanged, he looked exhausted as the three of them left the room. Simon closed the doors behind them.
"What an obvious, yet hilarious, little incident." He clapped his hands in a big, faked smile. "This should happen more often, don't you think so Simon? We should invite people here more often and punish them. It's so much fun than to just sit around here, doing nothing, isn't it? And your powers Simon, they are indeed magnificent..." His gaze turned to Avah and his face got serious for a moment, then he burst into laughter.
"Did you really think I would expose you to the sun?" He put his hand around her chin. "Im much more clever than that. You might be stupid, but you are a good keeper. Not worthy to die. But, I'll keep a closer eye on you from now on, we all will." He said and nodded at Simon. "Your rank as a keeper will go down to the lowest. You know what that means, right? More dirty work. Take her to her room Simon, and lock the door behind her. She'll have to pay for her sins."
Simon grabbed her arm and pulled her up from the floor.
"I hope you think through what you've done, Avah. I rarely offer second chances, and never third ones." Caskus yelled after them.
They walked in silence through the candlelit corridors. The flames cast long shadows on the naked stonefloor. He opened the door before they had reached it, she knew it was an everyday habit for him to use his telekineses power.
"Im sorry." He whispered as he lightly pushed her in to the room.
She turned to look at him, her eyes tearfilled again.
"Can't you see what he's doing to you?" She said.
He starred over her head, his gaze was cold and blank. Then he closed the door and locked it. She couldn't believe this was the same man who had once taught her everything there was to know about being a keeper. He, who was like a brother to her. He, who now betrayed her for what? For royalty? She sat down on the floor in slowmotion, squized her legs to her chest. She felt her hands shaking as she covered her face behind her knees. So much for sacrafies.. So much for so many years of friendship... Was it all gone now, the life she thought she had once lived here at the Caelestis?
"Let me go!" Edan scremed as he had gotten his consciousness. The two buffy guards he knew nothing had dragged him down one set of stairs and now they were on the second one. His knees burnt along the stonefloor. A dungeon like prison met his gaze as they got to the end of the stairs. It stinked musty and the air was wet and cold. From the dungeons he could distinguish a couple of yellow, frightened eyes starring at him. He heard barking sounds and low hissings. He was thrown into to the last cell, that to him, seemed to be empty. Til two golden eyes appeared from the darkened corner to his right.


Just nu: Within Temptation - Hand of Sorrow (Avah's theme)

Skrivande

Är så glad att jag har fått ny inspiration till min "country" saga.
Måste erkänna att jag saknat Elan, Tim, Youngblood, Rocket och Bonnie (döpt om Bella).Vet inte om ranchen verkligen ska heta Buckskin Ranch, majoriteten av familjen Blacks hästar är förtusan inga buckskin (black) färgade hästar. Där måste jag nog ta och tänka om, men jag gillar verkligen namnet Buckskin Ranch. Ranchen har alltid hetat så för mig, jag får se hur jag gör.
Försöker bygga upp Tims och Bonnies trasiga relation. Mystiken hos Elan, men också att han faktiskt har en osäker sida till sig. Diggar hans morbror Moony / Moody Wolftooth.
Måste infiltrera mig mer i alla vildhäst-banden.
Har skrivit ner Morganhästen Rockets (Bonnie's häst) bakgrunds historia - äntligen. I love that horsie! ^^
Jag visste inte hur Rocket skulle se ut, vilka tecken, vilken färg osv, tills jag drömde om honom en natt för länge sen, när jag just "skapat" honom. Dock hette han Bill, om jag minns rätt, i drömmen. Han var mörkbrun med en stor vit bläs. När jag vaknade visste jag att det var så Rocket skulle se ut. :)


Alla karkatärer är verkligen som mina barn, spelar ingen roll om de är onda eller goda. Jag älskar de alla, på något sätt.
Eller förresten, kanske inte alla om jag tänker efter. Vissa måste bara finnas där för att de passar, för att allt inte kan vara gott. Det finns ont i allt det goda, kanske ibland också lite gott i allt ont.

Age is just a number, and love is blind.

Just nu: Jason Aldean's skiva Relentless

Sången om Misha

Ett litet utkast bara, pure brainstorming helt enkelt, oredigerad idé som rasade ur mig för några minuter sedan. Inspiration, inspiration... :)
Tills vidare har jag döpt min kreation till Sången om Misha

Sången om Misha

Misha är 16 år och bor i en liten lägenhet med sin mamma och mormor strax utanför Stockholm.
Han tänker på en pappa som nästan varit boxningsproffs men som han inte känner. Samtidigt hatar han mammans nya man Roland? som är allt annat än snäll mot familjen.

Misha föddes i ett slumområde i utkanten av Moskva. Hans pappa lämnade familjen när Misha var tre.
Mamma kommer i kontakt med och förälskar sig i en svensk man vid namn Roland? som hon säger kan rädda dem från misären. Några veckor innan Misha fyller 16 flyttar familjen (Misha, mamma och mormor) till Sverige i förhoppning om att livet ska ta en vändning. Roland och mamma gifter sig men livet i den svenska förorten är allt annat än vackert. Roland är våldsam och mamma tynar bort. Misha får dagligen hitta på sätt att undvika Rolands slag. I lägenheten får dem inte prata ryska, iallafall inte när Roland är i närheten, dem kommunicerar med stapplande engelska.
Roland tycker att Misha ska börja i skolan för nysvenskar men Misha är aldrig där.
En kväll när han vandrar runt utan mål hittar Misha en boxningslokal där dörren står på glänt. All hans frustration går ut över utrustningen, han somnar utmattad i lokalen. Nästa dag hittar en av tränarna honom. Istället för att ringa polisen frågar han ut Misha. Han ber Misha träna hos de men Misha flyr därifrån.
Senare tar han mod till sig och kommer tillbaka till hallen.
Tränaren blir hans förebild och han träffar människor i sin egen ålder som han lär av. Han tänker på sin pappa och undrar om han skulle vara stolt över honom nu?

"Har jag sagt att du är min ängel, Misha?"

Senare dör mormor, den enda som trott på Misha och ännu en gång känner Misha att livet är värdelöst.


Låt se om detta blir en flipp eller flopp för mig, jag tröttnar tidigt på mina idéer om jag inte gillar de, jag vill inte lägga tid på de då.
Det här är så naket som det kan bli.

Just nu: Kent - Hjärta