Updated Material - Author's Notes

I've been working on the Here's Looking at you, Kid page, and it's coming along nicely. There are still several characters that are missing or incomplete, and I will continue to update accordingly.

A Day in the Life of a Gnome has been completed. Though I will admit I'm not entirely satisfied with it as it feels short and when I picked it back up I couldn't even recall where I first intended to go. So instead of scrapping it and rewriting everything, I just finished where I think things were headed.

I'm currently looking for some new inspiration.

Wake Unto Me

Ghost felt her now as he had when they first put the rings on. A link to the lives they lived a thousand years ago, a link to each other through some bond kept alive in the metal and in the recesses of their souls. He knew she was sleeping, dreaming even, and every emotion she felt in that slumber would fill him as if it were his own. They were pleasant tonight, filling him with warmth and lifting his spirits. Ghost allowed a small smile as he finished laying a stone into his leather bracer, not certain if he was smiling because of the good fortune the night held or if it was the wash of positive emotion that flowed into him from his sleeping companion. ‘Either way,’ Ghost thought to himself, ‘I could get used to this.’

Standing and stretching, Ghost glanced at the night sky. It wasn’t terribly late yet, plenty of time to wander around the castle walls or the nearby forest. He felt like hunting. Free time had been limited lately, and a good hunt was long overdue… then the thought occurred to him, was it really his desire to hunt or perhaps Crimson’s dream compelling him? They hadn’t tested all the possibilities of their new connection yet, perhaps not only feelings could be shared but thoughts as well. It would also explain the joy she was feeling while dreaming, hunting was something she enjoyed as much as he did. Even though they both were from very different walks of life, it had been something bred into them, a way of life so natural to them both. Where ever the thought came from, it wasn’t going to happen. This land had been dead a long time, and anything living or dead was recently driven out by their presence.

Introducing Ghost; An Exalted Background

If there were ever an old soul in a young man it would be Ghost. At only sixteen he had learned things about life that few beings experience in their whole span. He had accomplished tasks most spend generations working on and had mastered skills mere mortals could only dream about. And although pride would swell within him knowing these things, he also knew it was just a prelude to what lay ahead. His heart would hang heavy knowing what had come before and what would come to pass before he could truly be satisfied with his actions and accomplishments in life, some of which he may never reach and most of which were even frightening for him to consider. And though fear constantly played on his mind at the path he must take, he knew now who he was and whom he was meant to be. Even at sixteen he was destined to be greater than any he had ever met and accepted this with little regret and much desire to fulfill the role laid out for him. He was a boy just turned man. A child born to corruption grown into a tool for justice. A son. A thief taker. A brother. An Exalted.

Frozen Throne

Parody of "Tootsie Roll" by 69 Boyz. Written for World of Warcraft Arthas encounter in Wrath of the Lich King.

The Anub fight? Uh-uh that's gone!
Let me see that Frozen Throne!
Yeah, 2010 MoK squad backed up by Tirion Fordring and Ashbringer.
One time.
Flasked and ready, Fordring go, let me see that Frozen Throne!

Frozen Throne! (8x)
To the ledge, to the ledge!
Group up tight, group up tight!
To the tank, to the tank!
Now get back, now get back!
Spread! (8x)
To the ledge, to the ledge!
Group up tight, group up tight!
To the tank, to the tank!
Now get back, now get back!
Deeps, baby, deeps! (4x)

We Need a Hero(ism)

Parody of "Holding Out For a Hero" by Bonny Tyler. Written for World of Warcraft Anub'arak encounter in Wrath of the Lich King. 

Where have all the attempts gone,

And where are all the loots?

Where’s the epic DPS

With run speed on their boots?

Isn’t there a heal queued to save me in phase three?

Raiding nights I kite and I burn and dream of what could be.

We need a hero!

We’re holding out for a hero at the end of the fight.

We’ve gotta be geared,

And we’ve gotta be fast,

And we’ve gotta be bunched up tight.

We need a hero!

We’re holding out for a hero to do this right.

We’ve gotta be buffed,

And it’s gotta be soon,

And we’re gonna be larger than life.

Larger than life.

Untitled

Plans to finish in the distant future. I was tired of writing about love and wanted to do something darker.

The storm clouds thundered as she walked to her car. It hadn’t started raining yet but it was inevitable. Eric smiled to himself as he watched her. Tonight was the perfect night, not just because his urges had become insatiable lately, but the rain would wash away evidence of his plans. Cleansing him of guilt as it had in the past on those nights when he had to take what was his. Nights that were becoming harder to control and more frequent.

His groin reacted as he recalled the last time he had bore witness to the most private of times. Her shirt being pulled above her head, skin glowing in the softly lit room with only a bedside light casting shadows over every curve of her being. And then the bra was unhooked, falling to the floor, exposing her sun kissed breasts. He clenched his jaw in a growl, images got him going, but it wasn’t enough anymore, he wanted to see it again. Her dark nipples puckering from the fresh air as if the brassiere had smothered them all day, her looking over herself before slipping into the tub already filled with warm water, letting it envelope her. He needed to see it again.

Restless; Yllithia

Mutig’s hands worked systematically over the leather, readjusting straps to oil what he had seen as being neglected. His ribs still hurt from where the hammer had lain into him from the fight only days before up in the hills of Ironforge. But he worked diligently with the thoughts of whom the outfit would be protecting, not just the woman he loved, but his child as well. If she wasn’t going to take precautions, by the Light, he was going to make sure nothing would become faulty while she carried what was his.

A creak from the door brought his eyes from his work to see Yllithia stopped mid-stride, the sunlight behind her shadowing the plate she currently wore but her face clearly seen, eyes wide quickly fading to a soft smile. He had heard her coming, she wasn’t so quiet with all that metal strapped onto her, granted softer footsteps than other warriors, but one can’t be too soft when wearing heavy metals like the ones her suit was crafted from.