This is my world. me. still in progress. much to come.
Home of the Ongoing Space Viking History
- Created By Mimaru
Rich Gargoyle Paradox
[the following is a book i'm trying to write. input is appreciated.]
[[warning! may contain language and drug usage!]]
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There are thousands of well-known bands across the world, and millions that are either local specialties or known to a small cult-like fan base. As many as there are, famous or not, they break apart everyday. Of course, everyone knows that the producers and musicians and singers go through a rough time of it when this happens. However, there are others affected too. Families, fans, groupies, roadies and other assorted staff.
To a non-widely known band called Rich Gargoyle Paradox I was a little of everything as far as non-considered affectees go. They called me Noir and I was the eyes and ears, knowing the ins and outs of what broke up Rich Gargoyle Paradox. And now, as the remnants of the Paradox lay to rest a dear friend, I remember.
Vincent threw his notebook across the living room of the small apartment. Albeit, the distance hadn’t been very far; but the frustration was still evident.
“What the hell else rhymes with screen?!” he cried, having already used dream, gleam and keen.
“Bean,” I supplied helpfully. A smirk twisted my mouth, as I knew that wasn’t the sort of lyric Vincent would have in his precious song notebook.
“Bean? Really, sis? Really?” he said, voice heavy with sarcasm, running a hand through his ash-blonde almost brown hair.
Vincent, my brother, looked to Christoph who sat on the floor, his baby in his lap. Christoph stroked the guitar’s bare neck as he restrung it. He said nothing. Vincent got this way when he wrote. We were used to his tantrums.
I heard Montague in the hallway through the paper-thin walls before I saw him. His deep voice rumbled. He stuck his head in the door, his smooth dark head gleaming. He looked at Christoph and then me, before his gaze rested on the quite agitated Vincent.
“Hey, Lord Rathbone,” Montague greeted Vincent, a bright smile breaking up his dark skin. Vincent scowled in response. When he wrote, Montague called him ‘Lord’ because of his “delicate temperaments.” Christoph gave him a smile and they bumped fists even as Montague plopped down next to me.
“Is my apartment some sort of hangout?” Vincent barked.
“You sound like some crotchety 80-year-old dude.” I snickered.
Christoph set his guitar aside and looked up at Vincent.
“Aren’t we practicing today?” He said, his smooth voice diffusing some of the tension.
“Where’s Arden if you’re practicing?” I asked to no one in particular.
“That pretty boy piss-off is always late,” Vincent snapped.
Christoph turned to me.
“I think he had a date.”
This also brought curses from Vincent. Montague shook his head, patting my arm as if to say
‘Sorry you have to deal with this guy 24/7’ His ebony skin was even darker against my own creamy flesh.
“Does it really matter where Arden is if we don’t even have a full band?”
Christoph’s question resurrected an issue the band as a whole had been worrying about for some time. Lead guitar: they had one of those, namely, Vincent. Drummer was present in Montague, their singer was AWOL at the moment, but he always returned. The other bits, like rhythm guitar, keyboard and backing vocals were handled by Christoph. The only thing missing was a bassist. They needed a bassist.
A long silence greeted his question.
Christoph began to tune his strings by ear, breaking the null void of conversation he had created. He had a talent for this. Montague pulled a rumpled paperback out of his pocket, the picture and words on the cover indecipherable. He read quickly, flipping a page before too long, his eyes seeming to examine each and every letter.
“Well ,” I sighed, “As fun as this is, I have grocery shopping to do,”
I pulled on a black pair of worn-out knee high boots. The zipper was rusty and hard to unzip once zipped in the first place, so I was always having to wriggle them up my legs to wear them. In addition, I grabbed Vincent’s holey camouflage coat from the back of a chair. I headed out into the hall as a conversation about Gibson versus Fender began behind me. Our apartment was shabby and tiny, even the hallway ceiling adorned with water stains with matching threadbare carpet and peeling wallpaper. Even being as crappy as it was, even with the refrigerator being so old it was a color called Avocado, Vincent and I still had trouble paying for it. I dug into Vincent’s jacket pocket, making sure I had a pair of keys with me. I confirmed the presence of the keys and then frowned. I extracted a pack of cigarettes, the top ripped open and only a few missing. I sighed. He was supposed to have quit a month or two ago.
“Stupid,” I muttered, exiting the apartment building. The air was brisk, and the wind played with my silver blonde hair, splaying it across my eyes, and other strands finding their way into my mouth. I found a metal trashcan close by and deposited the cigarettes inside it promptly.
I followed my age-old grocery shopping ritual to the mark. It occurred every 3rd and 17th day of the month. Sometimes it happened on other days, if we ran out of food or ran into a larger sum of money, though it was nearly always the 3rd and 17th. Even with our money pooled, Vincent and I couldn’t afford much. I went to a small locally owned bakery, where the people who worked there knew me. Sometimes the owner was even in. Jurie, the owner, usually gave me something extra if he was there. He knew how hard I worked to keep a roof over my brother’s head while he followed his rock star dreams. Jim’s kindness wasn’t exclusive to me, however. He helped out others in the area. Quite a few single mothers, other poor people. I scoped out the bakery and, disappointed, saw no sign of Jurie. A pity because Vincent and I were partial to the banana bread. I bought two day-old loaves of wheat bread and a package of bagels. Vincent complained about the wheat bread. But it was healthier for him and often cheaper. I smiled to the cashier, who usually was working on the 3rd and 17th. Then I migrated a few streets over, to a small grocery store to buy our other necessities, namely butter, eggs, milk, and bologna. I noticed some extra money in my pocket, so I sprang for cookies, chips, and some pickles. The pickles were a bit selfish. They were dill and Vincent liked sweet pickles. Though not everything had to be about my brother. I could indulge. Besides, Christoph would help polish off the jar too. The cookies and chips would be gone soon enough. I paid quickly and picked up my Grocery chain label emblazoned paper bags. There were only three bags. Plus the bag with bread. Such a meager amount of food. Though it helped that we ate cheap Chinese or Mongolian rather a lot. I sighed, following the latter part of my grocery shopping ritual.
I walked a few blocks down, ducking into a cheap coffee place with tacky decorations. A taxidermy-ed moose head hung over the door, It’s glassy eyes surveying It’s Caffeine-Induced subjects. I got a small coffee. I had no liking for the taste so I drowned it in creamer and sugar. The frothy concoctions were too expensive for my blood, though I figured I’d like them. Regardless of Vincent’s disdain. Though I figured he only had a penchant for black coffee from all his hangovers. I also bought myself a plain glazed donut, selfishly indulging again today. Vincent would’ve said something stupid had he seen the donut. Something like, “That’ll go straight to your ass.” I sipped the coffee slowly, letting it warm me from the inside out. I didn’t take too much time between sips, however. I hated the bitter taste the coffee left in my mouth. In the background I was aware of murmured conversations and some typing. I finished off my coffee, savoring the first bite of sugary-sweet donut. The background faded as I mostly listened to my own thoughts. I needed another job. Two wasn’t enough. It would have to be a late job. Maybe a coffee shop. I’d had enough of working at clubs and bars. The bouncy music gave me a headache.
Something made me turn to my left. My eyes, bi-colored; blue on the left and green on the right, met the gray eyes of a blonde boy. His golden hair was darker than my own, but not as dark as Vincent’s. It fell past his shoulders. For a moment I was unsure of his gender, thoughts of transsexuals also crossing my mind. His slender fingers held a bow. For a string instrument. A cello or something since it was so large. Then he bent and opened his case, extracting a dark lacquered bass. A orchestral bass. Not an electric. He looked young, maybe around Vincent’s age. Though not as old as Christoph’s 23 years. He turned fully toward me, and I confirmed my original thoughts of his being male. But his features made me think of Lord of the Rings. He looked positively Elven. His features were nearly fine enough to be a girl’s. But the shape of his jaw and the defined look of his chin and brow definitely were male. I glanced away quickly. We’d made eye contact too long, and I didn’t want to seem as though I was staring. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him a moment. He stared at me a moment more. Then his attention turned back to his instrument, his long hands curling about the neck, much like Christoph’s did, lovingly. I dismissed him. He was just another coffee shop ’musician’ looking for some praise about his nonexistent musical ’ability’ and some quick cash.
I devoured the rest of my donut quickly, hoping to leave before he could ask me why I was staring. I gathered my trash together, and got up, throwing it in a wastebasket. I headed back to my table to gather my groceries. And then--
He played.
I sat down hard in my seat, amazed.
I didn’t know much about music, but I knew with absolute certainty he was the best bassist, maybe musician, I’d ever heard.
I stared at his fine features as he played. His thin lips and his golden hair. He wove a net around me with pure music, chaining me to my seat. To my amazement, no one else in the coffee shop seemed to notice. Then the bass sang again and I stopped paying attention to anything but the music.
The notes and rhythms and pitches swirled around me, entrapping me into a net made out of beautiful sound. As suddenly as the net trapped me, it vanished. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t known I had been holding. I looked at him, and he at me. It wasn’t some magical romantic trite thing where our eyes met and I knew deep in my soul he was my soul mate. Those things don’t happen in real life. The truth of the matter was, I was surprised. I had pegged him completely wrong. He looked calmly back, then he looked around behind him, as though he hadn’t thought that I was looking at him in the first place. Seeing no one in his immediate vicinity his gaze returned to me for a moment. He glanced down quickly, a blush coloring his cheeks. He quickly replaced the bass, settling the bow into the case on top, like it was some sort of odd wingless moth, drawn to the lacquer. I was taken aback again as he lugged the no-doubt heavy bass to the door.
SUMMER
tis nearly here, and in the meantime, my site will be closed. no updates. [BREAK] [i have marching band and work and video games, ya know?] HAPPY SUMMER VACATION!...Undead Like Me
dark souls bound
by non-death to the shadows.
wandering, wallowing.
Looming.
fingernails like fishscales;
chipping. peeling.
tearing at my flesh.
a last soul-torn scream.
mute-silence
carved-out tongue
corrupt. filthy.
absolution comes to none
like they--
like me.
dark souls--
Good God, now me!
eyes. cataract-blind.
fingers numb.
teeth ache.
no way to cleanse
the blood.
putrid. dirty. wretches.
eating marrow
from the bone!
--
Wretched me!
I'm eating marrow
from the bone.
all gone hollow inside.
no gore can ease the agony.
moldering away.
rotting.
a zombie, a zombie.
don't you wish you were
undead like me?
Space Vikings-- an overview
A long long time ago, in our very galaxy, (for how do we know of happenings in galaxies far away?) There existed Vikings. Strong warriors who terrorized the planet, razing and pillaging, stealing and making merry in the most manly way possible. Their war-cries struck fear into the hearts of men, women, and even some wolves. Their features contorted in rage, they'd hack away at trees with their mighty battle axes for no reason in particular.
Now, some may insinuate, or make implicit that Vikings were not the brightest crayon in the box. That they were more of a burnt sienna than tickle-me-pink. This is not true in the least. The Vikings were an industrious people, building the pyramids, the great wall of China, as well as Stonehenge and The International Space Station. (The Vikings have quite a proclivity for architecture.) With their intelligent and ingenuity being so great they soon developed ways to fly through the sky and as well as travel up to the heavens. They called these inventions automobiles. (You see, our current word is evolved from that Viking word. In their language it means: Sky Chariot.)
With the invention of the automobile the Vikings soon conquered the entire earth, enslaving many peoples and races. (I don't condone slavery. Slavery bad.) Among these were the Incas, Aztecs, Maya, Babylonians, Ancient Egyptians, Persians, and nearly every other people on the planet. Their need to conquer is inexplicable, but perhaps they simply were designed to do so. Their mighty beards were symbols of power. Even Viking women grew beards.
Soon they grew tired of earth, and sought to take their automobiles and fly beyond the stars, into the heavens. So the vikings of the world converged, and then they began a sinuous journey to the upper reaches of the mountain-tops, these acclivities making perfect take-off runways. As they rose into the skies, the Vikings looked down upon the earth, the mountains beginning to distort as the atmosphere changed. Some vikings even wished to cry. (But vikings have evolved past the need for tear ducts.) They got to the outer reaches of the atmosphere and diverged, exploring many planets and otherworldly features, such as space volcanoes. They landed on planets, making giant declivities in the surfaces, what we now know as craters.
Eventually, after many years, the Vikings had conquered most of the universe, and they converged again, to discuss what to do next. They are wander-lust stricken people, always seeking new places to conquer and peoples to enslave and slaughter and pillage. In their boredom they attacked each other, creating a great viking war. They fought for many centuries, the blood spilled in their battles staining the planet we now know as Mars, red. Their battles desecrated the great lakes of Mars, annihilated the well-meaning moth people of Venus, and even killed off the dinosaurs.
Many of the weaker Vikings escaped, traveling back to earth to become what we now recognize as 'vikings'. Those these were no where near as beastly as the actual Vikings. The great Viking war continued for a great many centuries more, causing great casualties across the Universe. Eventually only a few Vikings remained. To save their race, they all parted ways, vowing never to fight each other again, for their might was too much for the Universe. They threw away their battle axes, awaiting Ragnarök, the day the universe will end. They brood, and wait. Though they grow restless, slowly wandering into the territory of the other space vikings...
If they should meet, may the whole universe quake for fear of their might.
May is...
May is…
Jaap Month.
[lol.]
Hello aan u allen, Otaku-ites. Dit is Nederlands. Het is ontzagwekkend. Gesproken in Nederland. Maar genoeg van dat. Jaap is mijn favorietste persoon die het Nederlands in de Wereld spreekt. Yay Jaap!
Word- repartee – quick, witty conversation
Food- apple cobbler
[yum yum I had some for lunch today.]
Song- One Week – Barenaked Ladies
Featured artist- Salvador Dali
[Melting clocks, heck yes.]
Flavah- whatever you want it to be. It’s Jaap month!
Book- Max by James Patterson
The next book in the Maximum Ride series. Strangely enough; it was supposed to have come out on March 16; however, there has been no word of it. Not even from Hachette book group, who ships the series.
Manga- Fullmetal Alchemist
[a fast-becoming classic in the anime world. the manga is equally as good, and the best part is, there's still new material coming out. read Hiromu Arakawa's original manga that started it all!]
Movie- Marie Antoinette
Such a wonderful movie. It’s a look at the teenage queen
[hey, that’s a song by aiden] like never before. It shows her struggle to adjust to life in Versailles. It’s also a great movie with great clothes and music. There’s romance and danger! And elephants! And horses! And dukes! A sheep! Some ducks! Lots of good-looking food! And of course, Kiersten Dunst playing the part of Marie!
Four Stars!
Things to Celebrate-
May 1
• May Day
• Save a Rhino Day
May 3
• National Raspberry Popover Day
May 5
• Cinco De Mayo
May 6
• Nurses' Day
May 7
• National Roasted Leg of Lamb Day
• Kodak Cameras 1st for Sale
May 8
• No Socks Day
May 9
• National Butterscotch Brownie Day
May 11
• Twilight Zone Day
May 12
• Meteor Strikes Earth, 1922
May 14
• Anniversary of Lewis and Clark Expedition
May 15
• National Chocolate Chip Day
May 16
• Love a Tree Day
May 17
• 1st Merry-Go-Round Built
May 18
• Rooster Day [go ahead and say it; it’s Cock Day]
May 20
• Charles Lindbergh Began 1st Trans-Atlantic Solo Flight
May 22
• Wright Brothers Patented the Aircraft
• Buy-A-Musical Instrument Day
May 23
• World Turtle Day
• Bifocals Invented
May 25
• National Missing Children's Day
May 26
• Memorial Day Observed
May 27
• National Grape Popsicle Day
May 28
• Whale Day
May 30
• 1st Hovercraft Launched
May 31
• Speak in Complete Sentences Day
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