2005-02-22 - 1:59 a.m.

squirrels, girls, stories.

Okay. I got my previous paper on Flying Squirrels back today. I got a B. Normally, I'm not a hardass about grades, but I totally think I should have gotten an A. The minimum was five pages, I turned in twelve.

In the comments he said my writing was well crafted and polished, but I could have gone even more indepth with my analysis. Well, I think 12 pages is rather indepth. However, he asked to keep a copy of my essay for a model for next semester.

I'm not exactly a cocky man, but I like to think that I can do one thing well, and that is my writing. It may not seem so on here, but that's because I'm rather laid back. When I write a paper, it's my creation. I have decided that this next paper is going to blow my professor out of the water. I'm not gonna let this man think he is lord and master, in some way superior to me. Yeah, it's egotistical, but I'm a dick sometimes.

In other news, I just started dating this girl that I've liked for a while. She is absolutely perfect for me. She is intelligent, liberal, funny, an elitist, and very beautiful. We agree on just about everything, to the point of spookiness. I'm still in shock that it worked out.

We had our first 'date' last night, I took her out to eat at PF Chang's, a very upscale restaurant here in Raleigh. I had a great time talking to her over dinner. Hell, I've enjoyed being around her for the past two and a half months. I'm totally crossing my fingers hoping things work out.

So yeah, I'm pretty stable. School is going well, despite my bitching about English. ComedyWorx is more and more rewarding as time goes on, I've got a great dynamic in the dorm, and I'm seeing the most perfect girl I've ever met. Man, why am I so kickass?

To back up my claims, I'm posting below a few snippets of a story I'm writing. It won't exactly make sense because they jump in time, especially between the second and third excerpt. Most of you that read this have already seen this story, but in case any others in Interweb land care, here it is.

Four ancient men set around a grand oaken table. They did not speak, they only looked at each other in stoic silence. All around them on the cold stone walls were tapestries that depicted heroes and villains that had come and long since passed in the ancient reaches of antiquity. Massive bookcases adorned every available location along the perimeter of the room, with other trunks stuffed with volumes resting on the worn floor. The only part of the room not covered with paper and leather was a grand fireplace, blazing without the need of any wood to sustain it.
The visage of the councilors was one marked by age and wisdom, unwavering with confidence. These men were not surprised by what Hyshen had told them. Nothing surprised the councilors anymore. None knew how long they had lived, only that they had most certainly witnessed the creation of each and every tapestry in that room, as well as remembered the cataloguing of each and every volume in the keep. Some supposed, in a hushed manner spoken only in the corridors, that these men were gods sent to chronicle man, that they could not be killed. Of course, the councilors knew this. They knew everything that went on in their keep, they even knew what Dietrich was planning before Hyshen had any suspicion.
Insolence, they had crowed, grasping the edges of the table with their vein ruined hands. Dietrich thought that he was intelligent. He was an upstart, clever but pompous. Arrogant and overestimating his skills. A fool.
Throughout the many years that the Del Var had existed there had been many who sought to work to build their own power. Such exploration was generally not frowned upon. The councilors believed that the truly powerful were the only ones fit to rule. How one achieved such status was immaterial. Ethics and conduct became moot among the brotherhood, and if anyone disagreed they could always challenge the one who did them injustice.
But this time was different. Dietrich would do the one thing that was forbidden. He sought to supplant the gods.
For all of the research the Del Var conducted, it was universally accepted that man could not challenge the gods. To do so was folly, as evidenced by fateful events that occurred long ago. Attempting to go against this one unwritten law was treachery and instant damnation amongst the brotherhood.
The councilors eyed each other and clasped their hands in their laps. After a long wait, one spoke.
�Clearly, there is but one course of action in this matter,� said he. This councilor was the eldest of them all, and while each of the four had almost equal power in the matters of the Del Var, his will was never questioned.
�The one called Dietrich oversteps his bounds,� he continued. �He knows our laws. While inquisitiveness is rewarded, he goes too far. He poses a risk to us all. We would do well to be rid of him.�
His words seemed to hang in the air, and the other three only nodded, not even blinking at the implication in those words. The loss of one Del Var was nothing, especially when there were subversive motives at work. It seemed that the decision was made then and there. In a few moments, Dietrich would trouble them no more.
�However,� interjected their leader, �Perhaps we can turn the young Dietrich�s cause to our advantage.�
For a moment, just a brief moment, a look of doubt passed over the faces of the other three, but it was soon replaced with a stony gaze of acceptance. There was no need to question this decision. Whether Dietrich lived or died would most likely make no difference. His potential of succeeding was so insignificant that it could be questioned if he was worth the councilors wasting their energy to blink him out of existence. The three nodded to their leader.
�Yes,� he whispered. �Let him continue his research. I think, brothers, that he just might find something useful. He can play at being creator if he so desires. Though I doubt his success will please him much.�
With that, he stood and clasped his grand red robe about his frail frame and walked to the fireplace. Lifting his hand to his forehead, he drew a line down to his chin and whispered lightly. Quickly, his whole body shimmered and clouded, breaking into smoke that traveled into the fireplace and up and out of the stone mansion.

Dietrich shivered and put down his parchment. He had been up all night once again, and morning light was peeking through his scarlet drapes. Sleep had become ever more elusive each passing day as his studies consumed him fully. At the moment he�d been transcribing his theories, consolidating the knowledge he had gained from his research.
He laid back in his chair and looked up at his cracked ceiling and cursed those pompous robes that tried to stifle his plans. They are worthless buffoons, parading magic tricks as art while remaining oblivious to true power.
Hyshen was ignorant, always working to impede Dietrich�s efforts. Soon, he would have to be dealt with.
This is as far as I've gotten with this little piece, I didn't finish it earlier. I have some other snippets of unfinished passages as well. I need to get in gear.

Far from the keep, deep into the forest, something stirred. It came from inside a depression in the limestone riverbank, a mysterious convalescence that floated through the nooks and crannies of its lair to the surface. Slowly collecting itself, it hovered over the surface of the water, a formless black cloud swirling, refracting the bright moonlight that pierced the chill air that evening.
Though it had no physical form yet, even the inhabitants of the forest could sense a foreboding danger from the entity. A menacing aura stretched with the forming tendrils, quickly pulsating, growing ever larger. Rapidly circling the breadth of the river, it began to take shape. The surface of the water depressed ever so slightly, as if a gathering weight had been deposited onto it. Its body was confined to a vaguely human shape, yet certainly nothing as sinister as this being could be said to be human. A dense torso was clearly evident, and arms and legs, formed by a thick smoke, erupted from it.
Out of the clearing came Dietrich, clad in a blood red robe covering his leggings and fur-lined boots. His face was pale as the moon that shone so brightly, yet his lips were so full and red they matched his attire. Icy blue eyes accentuated his smile as he looked at this, his creation.
How long he had waited, how long he had studied and prepared for this moment, the beginning of the darkness to come, the heralding of his reign. After countless years of feigned obedience to those arrogant Del Var magicians, Dietrich had attained the power he desired with all of his black heart.
His creation, his first tainted bastard offspring, had almost finished its gestation. Its glossy black exoskeleton shone with a dull gleam, and its bright green eyes were fixed on its master. It stood six feet in height, with six massive insectoid wings that flared in anticipation of flight, with the carapace that covered them extended above its head. The gross being raised its clawed arms in triumph and screeched shrilly, and no sounds did greet it in answer.
None, save the quiet laugh of its creator. Dietrich smirked in triumph, and reached into the leather bag draped across his back. He pulled out from inside a pouch, and approached the creature.
It kneeled before Dietrich in vehement worship, and Dietrich reached into his pouch and pulled out the last item that would make his creation complete. Gladly did he place the heart of Hyshen, the fool who tried in vain to stop Dietrich, into the claws of the creature, who devoured it excitedly.
And so completed the birth of the Myntoch, created from the sacrifice of the soul and heart of Hyshen, former Del Var Master of Records.

�