tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14525087777327012892024-03-05T02:18:13.191-06:00Cori DeaththornWelcome to my blog, where I'll often babble about what goes on in my daily life. Oh, and I love to write. I'll be posting my Wizard101 fan-fiction on here. Hope you like it! :Dmissingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-50837023412595409382015-07-21T15:32:00.002-05:002015-07-21T15:32:45.766-05:00Every Summer is the SameSo, guess whose entire summer has pretty much flown by, and all of it wasted, with no productivity at all? :D<br />
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ME!!<br />
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All right, so I really don't know where the summer has gone by, because I have like, 10 days of it left, which makes me cry. At least I have a lot of notes for Cori Deaththorn and a storyline and character development and relationships and plot that I am REALLY excited for. Yay!! I'll start writing more of it now, but the new beginning of Chapter 1 is chugging along really slowly and cringe-worthy.<br />
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So, there's that :) Hope everyone else's summer has been a lot more productive than mine, especially writing-wise.missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-7476219490587289352015-02-24T23:38:00.001-06:002015-02-24T23:38:23.292-06:00The Best Thing Ever<div class="tumblr-post" data-href="https://embed.tumblr.com/embed/post/xrhpOyui399MP1ffls_9Rw/50189753557" data-did="d7fd93e1d8ae39d687f5bb05dc73cd458fd52ae5"><a href="http://neroandkyrie.tumblr.com/post/50189753557/nero-thank-you">http://neroandkyrie.tumblr.com/post/50189753557/nero-thank-you</a></div><script async src="http://assets.tumblr.com/post.js"></script>
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-82971190802440263622014-08-09T10:58:00.000-05:002014-08-09T10:58:06.946-05:00I'm not dead!Just a quick post to let people know I'm not dead, though school has started :(<br />
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I haven't really been writing anything for Cori Deaththorn, though I do have some ideas and I have felt like writing it lately. I'll try today since it's Saturday.missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-49395327906509151462014-05-20T15:05:00.000-05:002014-05-20T15:06:13.762-05:00Summer is here (again)To be honest I've been dreading visiting this blog again because I always leave a place un-updated and feel guilty about it, and then I don't feel like coming back to see just how long I've neglected the place.<br />
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A lot has changed in the past year since I've written--the last time I wrote was May of 2013! It's May 2014 now, and I'm already out of school; technically, this is the last week of school, but I've moved (I've actually moved twice in the past year) and at this new school I'm in, if you're exempt from all your finals, you can skip the whole week.<br />
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I need to do a lot of things, actually, and I may have said this before, but Wizard101 is lower on my list. My main book, Magician's Daughter, is the top priority this summer, 'cause I need to get it done before school starts again in August (I plan on taking as many AP classes as possible in 10th grade, so I'll probably be busy as heck).<br />
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This Sunday or next Sunday I'm going back to Illinois again :) Hopefully this blog will be updated more or I'll work on Cori Deaththorn more during the whole summer.<br />
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I won NaNoWriMo with Magician's Daughter back in November if you didn't notice the badge on the sidebar XD<br />
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I might have already mentioned this but I plan on completely re-writing Cori Deaththorn again.<br />
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I also got my old HP computer back, as in it got fixed, so yay! It still runs on Windows XP though so it can be slow as heck and sometimes frustrating because some programs aren't 32-bit (I actually dunno much about this).<br />
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Uh...yeah. Until the next update :Dmissingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-82014091198290651702013-05-16T00:53:00.000-05:002013-05-16T00:53:15.306-05:00Happy Birthday Pudding!HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PUDDING!!!<br />
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BESTEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD!!!<br />
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<333333333333333333333333333!!!<br />
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(Her birthday is May the 15th, by the way, in case this posts on May 16 because it's 12:51 A.M. for me right now.)<br />
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And, while I'm posting this, holy cow. I can't believe I haven't been on my blog in five whole months. Has that huge span of time really passed by so quickly? Where the heck have I been?<br />
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Ugh, I really need to post a lot more in the summer again to make up for the whole first half of the year I lost! Not much to report anyway, especially on Cori Deaththorn, which, although has epic ideas in my head, I just can't do right now because I have a lot of other things I still haven't been working on either.<br />
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Wish me luck in finishing everything, guys! I should really start trying to set goals for every day so I don't just spend every minute procrastinating on the Internet or whatever else I do to miraculously waste time.missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-16970961670449718382012-12-30T21:02:00.003-06:002012-12-30T21:02:38.097-06:00Back!Hey! Guess who's back?<br />
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Well, it turns out my laptop wasn't totally screwed. It just needed a new battery, so my brother switched mine and my his, and tada! My laptop works like it used to again, which included wifi!<br />
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The only downside was that the keyboard was completely busted. But a few days ago I (luckily) bought a new keyboard and connected it to my laptop, so now everything is pretty much back to normal.<br />
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To be honest though, I don't feel like writing :( Or drawing, or anything. So...yeah. Here's to the end of 2012, guys, and bring on 2013! I guess in time I'll feel like writing again, but right now...I'm just too sad and apathetic to. I have a lot of catching up to do and I have to finally read all of Emma's writing like I've been saying I shou<br />
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My amazing friend Sophie though has a Figment account and she has two really good stories on there that I think you should check out.<br />
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<iframe width="355" height="335" src="http://figment.com/books/504395-Lost-Causes/widget?size=large&desc=true&stats=false" frameborder="0"></iframe><br />
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Yeah...I don't feel like myself.missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-24419791708657183822012-11-30T17:36:00.002-06:002012-11-30T17:41:31.069-06:00NaNoWrimo and Laptop ComplicationsSo, I haven't been able to post in a long, long time, and this is mostly not my fault.<br />
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The problem is the laptop on my brother's laptop (which use) has something wrong with the wifi, and for whatever reason, for the past few months it hasn't been able to connect to the Internet. Right now I'm using my cousin Maxine's laptop and I have to go soon, so I'll keep it short.<br />
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I couldn't really get into NaNoWriMo this year like I wanted to and since today's the last day I just figured I'd enter in what I had of a book I started in November for the word count (which, admittedly, isn't that much).<br />
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Yeah, I don't know how I'll keep posting up Cori Deaththorn and stuff without a regular access to a computer :( It makes me really sad, but life without Internet hasn't sucked that bad. I finally got a tablet like I've been wanting for years! Yay!<br />
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I have to get off now, but now I can finally draw pictures of the characters on the computer like I've always wanted. I never talked about this before, but I used to always near the end of the seventh grade school year draw Mark, Cori, and Sam everywhere and I've always tried to draw them nice and watercolor it in, but every time I somehow managed to royally screw up something or other. I never got to post anything up on my actual blog, but I got a picture of Cori I did in the Wizard101 website! (It's in May of 2012.)<br />
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As a departing not-really-gift, here's a picture of Mark and Cori I drew a while ago on my new tablet that I didn't really take the time to make better because it was supposed to be part of an animation: <br />
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This actually isn't supposed to exist yet since in the actual story that I have posted Cori's still in her old black and green Debonair robes and Mark is in some other Master garments. I'm working on part three as we speak but it's really slow-going seeing as I've got a lot of other ideas and projects to keep me busy now. (Part three ended up longer than all the other parts though, since technically I couldn't move on. Part three isn't even halfway over yet though, so no rushed endings at least! :D)<br />
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Now that the weekend is finally here and school is over for the week, I'm looking forward to just kicking back and relaxing :D I'll draw and write in the world of Wizard101 some more, and until I can get to a laptop or a computer with Internet access again I guess this will have to be bye for now. <br />
<br />missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-87957796938845356132012-07-09T19:49:00.001-05:002012-07-09T19:50:03.551-05:00New PictureI'm at my cousin Ssammy's house and he has a huge computer monitor so I had some fun taking pictures of myself on Wizard101 XD :D<br />
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Just thought I'd like to share it with you guys while I continue procrastination of any productivity at all.<br />
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<br />missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-30423175097031669352012-07-01T13:40:00.003-05:002012-07-01T13:40:47.009-05:00New Awesome Wizard101 Commercial<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Okay, is it just me, or is this THE AWESOMEST COMMERCIAL EVER?!<br />
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Seriously, I love this commercial so much. It's so awesome and awe-inspiring and every time I see it on TV (which is a lot) I get this tingly feeling and it makes me want to write or play or just DO something about Wizard101!<br />
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It's really cool and I love it and yeah. It gives you a lot more depth and insight into the world of Wizard101, right?<br />
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And today I realized Wizard101 would make the awesomest movie ever. Seriously. I mean, JUST LOOK AT THIS! WOULDN'T A WIZARD101 MOVIE BE THE COOLEST THING EVER?<br />
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Uh...yeah. That's about it. Part 3 is coming along really slowly and stuff, but this commercial makes me want to write more about it. Maybe if I watch it enough I can actually start cranking out a lot.<br />
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But my flashdrive with my story on it is at home so...missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-20429727377147711622012-05-29T13:53:00.000-05:002012-05-29T13:53:32.911-05:00Summer!IT'S SUMMER!!! YAY!!! FINALLY!!!<br />
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Okay, sorry for using three exclamation points in a row, but come on! It's SUMMER!!!!<br />
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No more schoolwork! (Not that I had any.) No more school! No more bedtimes! Practically twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to write! Yay!<br />
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So what am I doing right now?<br />
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Trying to start this stupid lanyard, of course.<br />
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But, uh, let's keep that between you and me.<br />
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Hey, does anyone else not like this new "streamlined" look of Blogger? I liked the old one way, way better. This one confuses me and there's too much...emptiness...everywhere...<br />
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Anyway, summer started for me after May 24th, which was the last day of school. I haven't done much except laze around and play the laptop all day, but now I've resolved to start writing again and powerhouse through Cori Deaththorn, because honestly, it's moving along at a snail's pace that produces practically nothing.<br />
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So, yeah, go summer! This time for real expect new chapters :D I just realized I haven't posted in over like two months, but the only thing that stands out in my mind that happened in April is that I got addicted to this dating simulating game I can't buy because I'm broke.missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-65511718901587446422012-03-13T20:39:00.001-05:002012-03-14T19:06:06.712-05:00Cori Deaththorn, Part 2<p><font size="2" face="Arial">Nothing happened for a moment. No one moved. Mark knocked again, uncertainly. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I don’t think he’s home,” said Mark slowly. Sam snorted. “He <em>told </em>us to meet him at three exactly. He’s never late. You probably just didn’t knock hard enough or something.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sam pounded on the door. “Hellooo?” he shouted. “Is anyone home?” Nothing.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori felt chills. She pushed the door open roughly. “Headmaster Ambrose?” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Inside the study it was dark and empty. The light from outside lit up only a part of the room. There was a stack of unopened envelopes and paper on his desk, and the wind made them rustle dangerously. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Where are they?” Sam was dumbstruck. “They <em>never</em> leave the…”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Quickly, children,” said a familiar voice behind them. They spun around to face Headmaster Ambrose, who was looking panic-stricken. “Into the observatory—oh dear, my goodness—we haven’t any time—no time to even accept any student applications—hurry! Into the observatory!” He ushered Mark, Cori and Sam into the dark space. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“What’s happening?” asked Sam loudly as Professor Ambrose closed the door behind him. “A matter of great importance,” said Professor Ambrose, fumbling around with the locks. Gamma, who was sitting on his regular perch, hooted. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Great, indeed,” said Gamma worriedly. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“What’s happening?” asked Sam again, louder this time. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Great disturbances in Wizard City,” tutted Merle Ambrose. “And not just here, they report it’s in all the rest of the worlds, too. Great forces of undead are arriving everywhere. We need Professor Malistaire back more than ever to control them. There’s even been a gobbler invasion in Colossus Boulevard, for heaven’s sake, and we need someone to control all this. I’m afraid without Professor Malistaire’s help we are rather helpless. ”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Then let’s go right now!” said Sam eagerly. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“How are we going to convince him to come back though?” asked Cori hesitantly. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I know Professor Malistaire,” said Professor Ambrose firmly. “I’ve worked by his side for years. And if there’s anything to know about him, he is a calm, benevolent man. The grief over losing Sylvia Drake must have been terrible—” Here, Cori’s heart contracted “—and he lashed out in grief. By now he should be calmed down, however, and able to think rationally. Tell him that the school needs him to come back and Sylvia would not have wanted him to do this in her name. Sylvia would want him to come back and help the school. Now,” said Professor Ambrose, pulling out a key out of his numerous pockets, “here. Take this key.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">He placed it in Cori’s hands. It was a plain silver, but where the loop at the top was there was a metal dragon’s head, blowing out red flame. Cori felt uncertain. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Why us?” she asked. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Because you three are among my favorite students, as well as Malistaire’s,” said Professor Ambrose with faith. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sam and Mark grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself, old man,” said Mark. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Professor Ambrose smiled fondly at him.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Now, come along children, we must hurry. Meet up inside Bartleby and look for Professor Malistaire in Dragonspyre. He’s most likely there, inside the house he built for him and Sylvia. Come along now,” he said, and ushered them out the door. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Mark, Cori, and Sam all hurried out of the observatory and walked through the tunnel that led to Ravenwood. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Watch your step,” said Mark, keeping a hand on Cori’s shoulder. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Mark, I’ve walked through this tunnel a million times. I’m not going to fall or any—”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori stumbled, but Mark caught her just in time. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Careful,” repeated Mark, smiling lazily. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Can’t you two stop flirting with each other for one second?” whimpered Sam. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sam still wasn’t over Angela, then. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“We’re not,” assured Cori. “Or, at least, I’m not. It’s all right, Sam,” she said comfortingly, and patted his head awkwardly. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">The tunnel ended and Ravenwood came into view. They stood stock-still for a few seconds—the pavilion was completely empty. It was such a rare sight that none of them had ever seen it this way. A guest of wind rustled and a green leaf flew along with it. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Bartleby’s nose twitched. “Welcome,” he said, chuckling. “I’ve been so lonely the past few days that I thought I was going insane when I saw you three.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Oh, don’t fret, Bartleby,” sighed Blossom, the life school tree, in her high, dreamy and soft voice, “You still have all of us other school trees.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Torrence the storm tree heaved a great big sigh, but all the other school trees agreed. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">While the trees all talked about the upcoming fall, Cori, Mark, and Sam all slipped inside Bartleby. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“The trees sure have gotten chattier,” mumbled Mark. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“They’re lonely,” said Cori, leading the way toward the gate in the middle of the round circular room inside Bartleby. No matter how many times she entered this room she could never get over how beautiful it was; the walls were Bartleby’s bark; there were majestic yellow-and-green-trim rugs and tapestry draped everywhere; the ceilings were high, swooping; and best of all, soft golden sunlight came from the roof and formed a circle of light onto the door, raised by a small stump that was led by the rugged stairs, while gentle green leaves cascaded slowly onto the floor. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori stuck the key in the lock, twisted it, and the key dissolved into floating light specks that drifted to the ceiling. She tugged open the door to reveal a dark void that swirled in an oval. In it there floated small specks that were the worlds of the Spiral. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Come on,” said Cori, and walked inside. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">She felt like she was passing through a big plate of jelly, only much more softer. When she passed through, she was in Dragonspyre. The first thing that popped to her mind was that it was warm and humid. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Cool,” said Sam in awe, looking around. Over the horizon, a giant meteor was arching throughout the sky like a shooting star. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“It’s too hot,” said Mark and Cori at the same time. They glanced at each other. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“It’s perfect,” said Sam dreamily. He rolled up his sleeves and waved his arms around, soaking up the humidity. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Why are we friends again?” asked Mark. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sam ignored him and soaked in all the sights. The buildings, Cori had to admit, were pretty majestic, if a bit drab. They were all high and well thought-out, but all made out of the same boring stone material. To make up for it, there were random pools and waterfalls of lava all over, the way regular parks would have pools of water. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“This is my favorite world, ever,” said Sam matter-of-factly. Then he added, “I love this world. Why can’t I marry it?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Remind me to think up of a witty reply later,” said Mark, “but for now, we need to look for a house with a melodramatic grieving man in it.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori laughed but said, “That’s no way to show respect to your teacher.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I’m a level 48, so I’m almost done with the old geezer anyway.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori looked at him in disbelief. “What…” Mark’s face clouded over. His normally happy, cheery expression was replaced with a stony one. Cori looked away quickly. “Never mind,” she said. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Why don’t we try looking in the nicer part of town?” suggested Sam, oblivious to their reactions. He was looking at the map that all students were required to carry around in their backpacks. Cori, however, had lost hers a long time ago and hadn’t bothered to ask for another one. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Mark pulled out his. “According to this map, courtesy of Ravenwood Schools, that’s…on the farther side of…here.” He pointed to the black X that indicated where they were. “We have to walk a while.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Follow me,” instructed Mark. “I know this world a lot better than you guys do, and I’m familiar with the terrain.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">They followed Mark through bridges over gaping chasms of lava, through tunnels and through winding sidewalks. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Finally, they rounded a corner and Mark said, “Here we are: The epitome of Dragonspyre society.” He flourished an arm over the fancy mansions and bowed. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Which one is Malistaire’s, though?” said Cori, looking around. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“We can find it,” assured Mark. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“But I think we should really ask for directions.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“We don’t need help,” protested Sam. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“What is it with men and asking directions?” demanded Cori, and she walked toward a woman who looked like she’d stepped out of a Dragonspyre fashion magazine. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sam and Mark looked uncertainly at each other and shrugged. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Excuse me, madam,” said Cori politely, “but do you know where the Malistaire residence is?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">The woman, who had been smiling serenely, suddenly looked scared. “The Malistaire residence? What business have you there, little girl?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“We’re looking for Professor Malistaire, on Headmaster Ambrose’s orders,” explained Cori. “Have you heard of the recent incident in Ravenwood?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Of course I have, dear child, and that’s exactly why you must not approach it!” The woman’s lip quavered. “If you children”—she looked at where Mark and Sam were standing—“know what’s good for you, then you’ll stay clear away from that house. I urge you to stay far, far away! Not even the Draconians dare approach it right now.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“But why?” asked Cori. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Malistaire’s wrath, of course! Who knows what other mad acts that man will commit? Now, I refuse to speak of this anymore,” she said shrilly. “Please, go along your own way and don’t go looking for trouble.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">The lady walked briskly away, looking shaken-up.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Mark walked up to Cori. “What’s her problem?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Professor Malistaire probably would never hurt a fly,” agreed Sam, already walking ahead. “Told you we didn’t need help. Let’s just check all the houses and cross our fingers.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">At first, they asked a few other people for directions, but they all had the same reaction as the first woman they’d asked. They all ended with the same warning: </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Don’t go looking for trouble!” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">So, they spent the next half an hour walking from door to door, knocking or using the knocker if the house was especially fancy. After they’d checked almost all the houses but four, they were feeling almost irritable and about ready to give up. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Come on, there’s only four houses left,” said Cori cheerfully. “It’s bound to be one of them.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">The first house they checked didn’t answer, the second was home to a gruff-looking poodle who’d moved in from Marleybone, and the third’s owner chased them away with a gruff-looking heckhound that looked like it would bite off the head of the nearest living thing it got its hands on. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Finally, that left one house left. It was the fanciest on the street, maybe even the whole neighborhood. It was elegant and refined and expertly decorated and built to blend in with the surroundings, and yet it stood out at the same time, too. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Mark walked up to it and pounded on the giant brass knocker. He waited a bit, and when there was no reply he pounded harder. “Hello?” he bellowed. “Is anyone home?” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">There was the sound of locks being opened and then the door opened. The next moment Professor Malistaire was looking calmly at them. “Yes?” he said, in his quiet, reserved voice. “What can I do to help you children?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori felt chills going down her back. She couldn’t understand it. Professor Malistaire was the same as he always was, mild-mannered, quiet and polite. He looked exactly the same. But it seemed to Cori there was something different about his eyes. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Professor Malistaire!” said Sam, grinning. “Could we come in?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Sorry to intrude,” added Mark politely, folding his hands behind his back. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori didn’t say anything. She tried to calm down and thought about the past.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">While Sylvia was still alive, Cori used to always come over to her house in Wizard City. Sylvia had a gorgeous, beautiful garden that Malistaire had built for her. It had taken months, and it was all hand-done, but it was a labor of love and well worth it in the end. It was invigorating being out in the fresh air surrounded by beautiful plants, flowers and landscaping. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori and Sylvia would sit in the small garden in chairs and talk and eat and have picnics on the table in between the chairs. The table had a nice parasol attached to it and that would provide them shade. They would often nibble on Sylvia’s home-made cookies (lemon were Sylvia’s favorite) and sip lemonade and talk about trivial things or life studies or books. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sometimes Professor Malistaire would join them, smiling and eating a cookie or two and always listening politely. He didn’t talk much, but he adored it when his wife did. He was a bit reserved, but Sylvia knew just how to bring him out of his shell and make him talk with them. Cori always liked having Professor Malistaire join, because he was always nice and polite and listened to what you had to say whether it was interesting or not. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori would always help Sylvia with her gardening, and even Professor Malistaire joined in from time to time, crouching down and getting dirt on his knees and planting a flower. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Those were the happy days. Reliving it made Cori feel a bit sad, but at least now she wasn’t as afraid of Professor Malistaire. It comforted her re-imagining him potting a flower and remembering that Professor Malistaire was nice. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">She tried her best at a smile. Professor Malistaire returned it, although it was sad. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“No, it’s no problem at all. Please, come in.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Professor Malistaire invited them in into the dining room, where he insisted they sit down. “Would you like any refreshments? Tea, perhaps, and some…lemon cookies?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“That would be great, thank you,” said Mark.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">While Professor Malistaire went off to the kitchen to prepare the tea and cookies, Sam, Cori and Mark whispered to each other in hushed voices, leaning toward each other. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“What are we supposed to say?” hissed Cori. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I thought that was your job,” protested Sam. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I can’t think of how to start. The guy misses his wife but we need him to come back to his job. How do you phrase that delicately while you make sure he doesn’t snap?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Oh, I don’t know, how about, ‘Hey, Professor Malistaire, we need you to come back to a school you hate doing a job you hate surrounded by kids you hate and need you to do a whole bunch of work,’” said Mark sarcastically.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“What’s your problem with Professor Malistare?” demanded Cori. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I don’t have—”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I apologize for making you wait,” said Professor Malistaire, entering the room. He was carrying a silver tray with plates of lemon cookies and saucers filled with tea. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors today.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori, Sam and Mark’s heads all snapped up. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“It’s—uh—fine,” said Cori. “Sorry for intruding on you so suddenly like this.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sam elbowed Cori in the ribs and snickered. “Where’d all the manners suddenly come from?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Professor Malistaire raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">He set down the tray on the coffee table. “Please, help yourselves,” he insisted. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori took two lemon cookies while Sam and Mark squabbled over the rest. She also took a cup of tea and tried her best to swallow it down without looking conspicuous. Dimly she wondered if Sam would bother taking one because she knew he didn’t like tea either. Mark, on the other hand, she wasn’t sure about. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sam didn’t go near the tea, instead raising his eyebrows at Cori, but Mark took long gulps of it and when he was done, wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, “Thank you. That was delicious.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Malistaire nodded. “Green tea, a special recipe from MooShu. Sylvia brought it one day and it’s all w—<em>I’ve</em> been drinking ever since.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Of course, thought Cori. Sylvia got her tea addictions from spending her days in MooShu. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“So,” said Malistaire, folding his hands, “what brings you three here today?” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Um, uh, Headmaster Ambrose says that he needs you back,” said Cori. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Professor Malistaire was calm. “What for?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Well, there’s been trouble across the spiral, and in Wizard City with the undead…and we need your help to get rid of them…and then there’s of course the death school to teach…”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I’m sorry,” said Professor Malistaire. “But I’m afraid I’m not coming back.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori gulped. “Why not? When will you come back?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I’m afraid never, my dear,” said Professor Malistaire. “There is no joy for me in teaching at the Ravenwood School of Magical Arts anymore.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“But what about the death lessons? And what about the undead?” pleaded Cori. She couldn’t imagine a better death teacher than Professor Malistaire, to be honest. He was always patient whenever you made a mistake and was great at explaining clearly to help you understand. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“My silly little girl,” said Professor Malistaire. “Let me tell you something.” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori felt her blood go cold.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I’m sure you must have heard the rumors of <em>poor old, crazy Malistaire </em>by now,” he said in a biting tone. “Gossip. It spreads like wildfire in this world. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Do you see all the undead walking the streets at this very moment? I made them. I brought them here. I gave them the power to live and to create chaos. Me. I did it.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori didn’t react, but she saw Mark and Sam suck in their breath. She sat there, stony-faced, clenching her fists. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">He waved an arm in the direction of the window. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Soon,” he said, “my forces will take over Wizard City. Krokotopia. Marleybone. MooShu. Dragonspyre. I will rule all of the Spiral, and nothing can stop me, especially not a doddering old fool like Ambrose.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Malistaire calmly took another sip of tea. He glanced out the window, and looked as if he hadn’t a care in the world.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">He set down the tea cup on his saucer and lay it down gently on the table. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I think,” he said, “it would be best if you children left now.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“But, who will teach the Death lessons?” blubbered Sam, whose third school was in Death. Cori knew it was a stupid question—Malistaire wouldn’t be coming back, ever—but she knew they were all still in shock, slowly absorbing everything in. Malistaire. Had everything been an act, all these years? Was he truly this demented? Or was he simply mad from the loss of his wife? Cori could feel her head pounding.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I believe dear old Dworgyn will,” said Malistaire coolly. “If you would so kindly leave the saucers and cups here, I will pick up after them. Feel free to take a few more cookies with you to go. And have a nice day.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Without a word, Cori, Sam and Mark all got up and walked to the front door. They exited and Sam closed the door behind them. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Without a word, they all walked down the winding paths and roads, keeping to the sidewalk.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“So,” said Cori to Mark as they were walking, to break the silence, “you really like green tea?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“What? No. I hate it,” said Mark. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Then why’d you—”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I was trying to be polite. Besides, it’s better to get it over with quickly with big gulps than a lot of small little sips,” he advised. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori wondered if he’d had a lot of practice swallowing drinks he didn’t like. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial"> Mark seemed bitter and brooding. Sam seemed glum, not at all his cheery self. Cori felt bleak. What would they tell Headmaster Ambrose? Malistaire was a traitor. He had caused all this. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial"> Quiet, kind, polite Malistaire. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial"> The rest of the walk down was silent, with no one attempting to talk or make any noise at all aside from the occasional scuffling of the feet. They hardly met anyone along the way, and if they did see the occasional man or woman, he or she was usually scurrying away and into the safety of their homes. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">When they got to the Forum, it was deserted.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“What…are we going to do?” said Cori to no one in particular.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Mark looked at her. “What do you mean, what are we going to do?” He sounded almost accusatory. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I don’t know,” she snapped. “But…I…” Cori stared down at the ground. I what? What was she thinking? She didn’t even know herself.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Sam looked between Mark and Cori, who were almost glaring at each other, uncomfortably. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Uh,” he said, “hey, guys, we’re all just a little tense because of the Malistaire thing. How ‘bout we all just tell Headmaster Ambrose as fast as we can and get it over with, then get some lemonade or something? Anyone?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Cori and Mark both glared at him, and Sam flinched back. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Sorry,” he muttered. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">When they’d gotten to the Commons, everyone could feel the tension in the air. In Headmaster Ambrose’s office, Headmaster Ambrose was waiting for them eagerly. He stood up from behind his desk, pushing his chair away.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Any news?” he said, worriedly. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“He’s not coming back,” said Cori flatly. Then, her voice almost cracking, she added, “He’s a traitor, Professor Ambrose. He’s the one who brought all the undead to Wizard City.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">To her surprise, Headmaster Ambrose only looked troubled. His brow furrowed. </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I was…afraid of this,” he muttered.</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“You mean you knew?” asked Mark. “This whole time?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“I had only suspicions,” Headmaster Ambrose replied. “And even they were fleeting. What did he say?”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“He said he was going to take over the Spiral,” said Sam. “And that no one was going to stop him.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">“Dark times…dark times indeed…” </font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Headmaster Ambrose heaved a great sigh. “Well, things have stabilized somewhat in Wizard City. We are sending out competent Novices to deal with the dark forces in Unicorn Way—if any good is to come out of this at all, at least more students will be able to get hands-on experience.”</font></p> <p><font size="2" face="Arial">Headmaster Ambrose had been pacing the whole time, and now he returned to his desk, shuffling some papers. “Anthony Dreadful…new student…” </font></p> <p><font face="Arial">“<font size="2">Well, children,” said Headmaster Ambrose, “you have done an excellent job and while the results weren’t what we wanted, I’m sure you tried your hardest. As a reward you all will receive 1,250 experience each.”</font></font></p> <p><font face="Arial"> He filled out three slips, pausing once to bite on the end of the quill, and handed each of them one.</font></p> <p><font face="Arial">“Thanks,” they echoed. Sam happily stuffed the note into his pocket while Mark carefully pocketed his. Cori held on to hers.</font></p> <p><font face="Arial">"You may all leave now. I’m afraid there’s not much we can do about this now but wait.”</font></p> <p><font face="Arial">And so everyone departed for their dorms, leaving Headmaster Ambrose scribbling away and working furiously through the student applications at his desk. </font></p> <p><font face="Arial"></font> </p> <p><font face="Arial">--------</font></p> <p><font face="Arial"></font> </p> <p><font face="Arial">Okay, really sucky and short chapter, I know, and it took me like FIVE months to finish! That’s almost a half a year! Really, really, unacceptable. I’m so sorry guys/nonexistent audience. I feel horrible.</font></p> <p><font face="Arial">I worked on it sporadically and I went through writing phases where I tried to write down as much as I could all the time, but for the most part it sat untouched inside my laptop. Don’t worry, though, because lately I’ve gotten tons of ideas and I’ll be writing a lot more and posting up the parts a lot faster now, promise! Once every few weeks doesn’t seem that bad. Honestly, I’ve got a lot of ideas I wanted to write down and show the casual and fun side of being a wizard (like buying a new house or a new pet!) that I just wanted to get this stupid chapter over with already. So I pulled a Cori Deaththorn and ended the chapter really abruptly, just like last time. I pinky-swear-honest-to-goodness I won’t ever do this again though. So…until later!</font></p> <p><font face="Arial"></font> </p> <p><font face="Arial">P.S.: Also, in case you haven’t noticed (which you probably didn’t because it’s actually super boring) after browsing through a few more blogs (*cough*SierraWinterbreeze*cough**cough*SarahSpiritheart*cough*) I’ve actually grown quite fond of Arial, even though I was kind of reluctant towards it at first XD</font></p> missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-38046130850959349472012-02-01T21:52:00.006-06:002012-02-02T16:46:36.596-06:00Sierra Winterbreeze Contest<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFo-JfflhuDGK5Tyykv4ku-nKFxoORpG4sYxoueLzgIMLFbuJWO8ZPCuDtZY4WVCQVXGkVvhQhZ_V9qwNInDsuAFz0OqudnCXTsVBbIEdJCwryCC3l75b-SfPcyAV38HVS7pxK7i7awI/s1600/Contest+2.png"><img style="text-align: center;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 310px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdFo-JfflhuDGK5Tyykv4ku-nKFxoORpG4sYxoueLzgIMLFbuJWO8ZPCuDtZY4WVCQVXGkVvhQhZ_V9qwNInDsuAFz0OqudnCXTsVBbIEdJCwryCC3l75b-SfPcyAV38HVS7pxK7i7awI/s320/Contest+2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704383120808188802" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHRvW2-5xnjTlVrHjyXqVfNMy0EjOkXGcwBPaN00fmh2owPZoNRGTI-yDYsBvYaJo6x-p-4EjYZZJu-EKYekWJjgRX1jG1J3grIy7ssB1fqytdh8c8-uanMwdGnWZlUDt12afwMB5wt6U/s1600/Contest+1.png"><img style="text-align: center;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHRvW2-5xnjTlVrHjyXqVfNMy0EjOkXGcwBPaN00fmh2owPZoNRGTI-yDYsBvYaJo6x-p-4EjYZZJu-EKYekWJjgRX1jG1J3grIy7ssB1fqytdh8c8-uanMwdGnWZlUDt12afwMB5wt6U/s320/Contest+1.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704382506438570610" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Please excuse the cruddy lighting and quality and don't remind me about the guy's hand.</div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, so: </div><div><br /></div><div>This is my entry for Sierra Winterbreeze's contest! :D I hope it isn't too late. It's a drawing of Sierra and Mark (my favorite character EVER!!!). </div><div><br /></div><div>First off, I am pretty darn proud of this picture. It looks great in real life and all vibrant and colorful. I think I can say it's the best drawing I've ever made XD</div><div><br /></div><div>I put a lot of time into it (it literally took me like six-seven hours straight) BUT I know there are a lot of mistakes and mishaps:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Sierra's sword...it's so..,blegh...Plus I colored part of it wrong and those things near the handle are drawn wrong (I added another one of those things by accident somehow). </div><div>2. Mark's hand used to be fine, if a little dark because I'm lazy changing my water when I use watercolors. But then my brother walked in and he said it looked hideous and I got nervous and tried to rip off the paper to start over and it ended up tearing holes in the paper and now it just looks horrible. FORGIVE ME! ;A; I'm so torn over this one part because I love everything else but the stupid hand ruins everything and aggggghhhh. </div><div>3. Part of Mark's outfit is colored wrong (those second metal arm things that are black are supposed to be red, but since I based it off my brother's outfit and his is stupid blue and black, I accidentally colored it black too). </div><div>4. After the hand incident I got apathetic and moaned about how awful it was so I got lazy coloring his staff and stuff. </div><div>5. Um...the same thing with the skin coloring happened with part of Sierra's face (sorry!) but it doesn't look that bad. The skin always has to be the hardest part, effufufu D;</div><div><br /></div><div>It sucks because Sierra turned out awesome but Mark is my favorite character EVER (!!!) but I messed him up >___<</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, I really really wish I hadn't done that to his hand, but everything else looks okay, to me...I guess...:'D</div><div><br /></div><div>I really hope this isn't too late! D: </div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-18491929950432178242012-01-27T21:18:00.006-06:002012-01-27T22:22:40.671-06:00First Post of the YearWoah. I haven't posted in...forever. Twenty-seven days. That's pretty much unacceptable. <div><br /></div><div>I have no idea how time passed by so quickly. I've pretty much neglected my blog AND my website's blog, again, which is pretty weird considering I had been doing a great job keeping up with them. </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, anyway, my last post was really, really short and was a poor half-attempt of a blog entry. To be fair, it was before we were supposed to leave for Houston and I only had a few minutes, but still. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, <a href="http://sarahspiritheart.blogspot.com/">Sarah Spiritheart</a> made a New Year's Resolution post on her blog so I guess I'll do the same (albeit like twenty-seven days after I was supposed to). Problem is, I don't really know any resolutions. Yeah, but it's pretty hard to be better when you're already perfect. (Seriously though, I've been thinking about resolutions from time to time since the beginning of the new year 2012 and I haven't really been able to come up with anything.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Oooh! I got it!</div><div><br /></div><div>1.) <b>Write more.</b> </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Definitely write a lot more. During the past few days I've actually been writing quite a bit and I forgot how awesome it feels to be writing. I've even got a half-new story idea coming along (What? Another one? Geez, woman, stick to just a few projects!). For now it's called "Lacrimosa" for lack of a better name because I am horrible at titles and I just use the first thing that pops to mind. Anyway, Now I think I'm going to be aiming for at least...2-3 pages a day. </div><div><br /></div><div>At lunch today I re-read the first part of Cori Deaththorn that I'd printed out and it made me want to read more and find out more about the characters because to me they're so lovable, yaddah yaddah yaddah, and considering I haven't even touched or looked at Part 2 I will definitely work a LOT more on that. It's been what, three months since that first part? Plus it was short, too, so expect more work on my Wizard101 stuff! :D I'm actually working on it right now as I'm typing this up. Also, I was thinking about just how AWESOME Wizard101 fan-fiction is/can be during lunch, so as of now I am officially hyped. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ahh, you cannot describe the inexplicable joy I am having right now at the prospect of writing more. <3</div><div><br /></div><div>2.) <b>Blog more!</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span>This shouldn't be hard. I love blogging and the "blogosphere" of wonderful Wizard101 fan-fiction writers! :D Plus I was doing an especially great job on my website's blog. Speaking of which I'll have to also update later (not that anyone actually reads it).</div><div><br /></div><div>So...once every two-to-three days sounds good. </div><div><br /></div><div>3.) <b>Write (a LOT) longer parts!</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-weight: bold; white-space: pre; "> </span>A lot a lot longer! :D</div><div><br /></div><div>4.) <b>Babble/Ramble less!</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-weight: bold; white-space: pre; "> </span>Maybe "stop acting like I have so many readers to disappoint" should be included, but it's probably annoying and headache-inducing to have to read through a super-long post that's 90% babbling about my daily life. From now on I'll try to keep my Wizard101 posts strictly about my fan-fiction and things pertaining to it and I'll babble on my website's blog :D </div><div><br /></div><div>5.) <b>Be nicer!</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-weight: bold; white-space: pre; "> </span>Self-explanatory. </div><div><br /></div><div>6.) <b>Pray more.</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-weight: bold; white-space: pre; "> </span>Ditto.</div><div><br /></div><div>7.) <b>Work harder in school</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-weight: bold; white-space: pre; "> </span>I'm actually a huge slacker in school. Under-achiever. Heh. Heh heh. So I'll try to work harder in schoolwork, pay attention more, etc.</div><div><br /></div><div>+ <b>Get organized</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span>I'm also terrible at organizing. Go figure. </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, you guys probably are bored to death already, but this is going to be my new Holy Seven Commandments for the new 2012 year (subject to change). See you later! :D</div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-80467003272186514892011-12-31T19:23:00.003-06:002011-12-31T19:24:17.932-06:00New Year'sWow. Can't believe it's New Year's already. Exactly a year ago I was 12 and...wow. <div><br /></div><div>We're getting ready to go to Houston. Happy New Year's everybody! Here's to 2012. </div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-4298599353431424362011-11-12T13:10:00.003-06:002011-11-12T13:18:22.156-06:00Happy birthday!First of all, before the birthday congratulatory wishes come, I'd like to say that I am banging my head against the wall for not writing a post on 11/11/11. I mean, seriously! Bloggers all over the world probably did it, but noooo, I had to forget about my blog completely. Dope. Dope. Dope. Maybe I'll lie and change my time zone so that it'll do something. Wait. That won't work at all. Doh.Doh. Doh. Once in a century. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have a nice, shiny number on my blog and I completely screw it up. Doh. Doh. Doh. <div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I'd like to wish a VERY happy birthday to my lovely mommy! (Yes, I still call her that.) Love you lots. :D x x</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm going to write after this and wallow in some more self-pity. We're throwing a surprise birthday party for my mom when she comes home from work. </div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-67031178096470498312011-10-07T15:51:00.002-05:002011-10-07T15:57:34.402-05:00Working on part two...Well, today I finally finished (if that's what you can call my pathetic attempt) the first part of Cori Deaththorn. I'm going to work on the second part now. <div><br /></div><div>Okay, errm, I'm really hungry and I'm finishing up my last box of White Chip Macadamia Nut cookie dough. Last Wednesday I got my four boxes of cookie dough that I ordered and wow, they didn't last long. We ordered four boxes: Double Chocolate Chip, White Chip Macadamia Nut, Snickerdoodle, and Rainbow Candy. It was for a school fundraiser thing. Each had 48 pre-cut shaped cookie dough. 48 x 4 = 192 cookies. There's like six left in each box and I'm baking the last ones in the White Chip Macadamia. So...yeah. That was fast. (I gorged myself on the cookie dough and I gained a few pounds...whoops.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Um. Yeah! I'm still hungry. I ate a few Swedish Fish today. And I really need to get out and exercise. Toodles! </div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-8023116045207325962011-09-24T18:56:00.019-05:002011-10-07T15:49:31.850-05:00Cori Deaththorn, Part 1<div style="text-align: center; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "></p><div style="text-align: center; "><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori Deaththorn, Part 1</span></b></p></div><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; ">It was a hot, summer day in the Life classroom. Students were lazily daydreaming and resting their heads while Moolinda Wu droned on about the importance of focusing all your energy into a spell; they were going into more advanced magic.</span></div><font=comic ms="" sans=""><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><div style="text-align: left;">Cori Deaththorn huffed in frustration. She tapped her pencil angrily--violently--against her desk. She had learned this lesson ages ago, albeit with a different teacher. She pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, only to have it fall back. The heat was extremely irritating, and the sweat didn't help.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She was feeling rebellious. "Professor Wu?" She threw her hand up in the air. Moolinda Wu paused in her speech and looked at her exasperatedly. "Yes, Cori? What is it this time?" She looked ready to drop dead.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">"I want Sylvia back." At this Moolinda Wu's eyes flashed with anger. "That's it!" she screeched. "Headmaster's! Now!" Most of the students snapped to attention and were looking between Cori and Moolinda Wu fearfully. No one could make Moolinda Wu lose her zen-like calm. Ever.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">No one, that was, except Cori Deaththorn. It was amazing, really, how she knew how to set Moolinda on edge. For one, the Life professor hated any mention of Sylvia Drake, the old Life teacher before her; how the students always wished that Sylvia were back and teaching instead of Moolinda. Most students learned very quickly that to mention Sylvia Drake was to ask for an abrupt end. They steered clear of her in any conversation with Moolinda Wu, but it didn't stop the whispers in the hallways.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Cori calmly got up and walked out of the classroom. The other students peered curiously at her as she walked by them, part awe-struck and part incredulous at her bratty behavior. No one quite knew why she had turned into a "bad kid"--she used to be the star-example of what a student should be.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But they had an inkling. She and Sylvia Drake had been close.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Merle Ambrose looked up from his stack of papers as he heard the door open and chuckled. "Why, if it isn't one of my favorite students." Cori couldn't hold back a smile. Recently, Merle Ambrose was one of the only people she could be herself with.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">"Have a seat." He gestured toward the plush velvet seat across his desk. Cori plopped down and made herself comfortable. Recently, she had been coming here a lot.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Merle cleared his throat and set his stack of papers aside. "So, tell me, Cori. What did you do this time?" Worry lines creased his forehead. Again, like so many times before, Cori felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn't have been causing all this trouble. It only pained those around her and did nothing for herself, really.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But she was selfish. She needed to let out all the anger and resentment somehow.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She took a deep breath. "Sylvie." Merle nodded solemnly and patted Cori's hands with his own large ones. There were tears in his eyes, and in hers too. Sylvia had been dear to both of them. Merle sighed and wiped the tears out of his eyes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">"I miss her," whispered Cori. Merle shook his head. "I do, too, Cori. But this reckless behavior has got to stop." Cori hung her head. "What good does it do to anyone?"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Merle patted her hands. "Please think this over, Cori. Now, if you'll excuse me, I rather have much work to do..."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Cori walked out out feeling strange. There was only an hour left in the school day, anyway, and after that all the students would be bustling out of the school rooms and into various areas of Wizard City.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She walked back to Ravenwood, heading for the girls' dormitory tower. She opened the door and into Room 113. The tower was magically modified so that when you walked in the door you were automatically transferred to your room, instead of having to walk up endless flights of stairs. Besides, the other option of building up posed safety hazards. This also protected privacy and conserved space.</div></span></font=comic><p></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori tried to contact her cousin Sam with her standing mirror. She recited a spell and tapped the glass, which caused it to conjure up an image of him. Sam's back was to her, and he was painting something up on his easel. She knew he had been sick today, but from his posture and constant sniffling it seemed that he had gotten worse as the day progressed.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Sam?" Sam kept on painting. "Sam!" He turned around, alarmed, before he saw that his Cori was in his mirror. "Oh. Cori. It's just you." He set his pallet down and took off his barrette, which he wore ridiculously. He looked rather down, she realized. From the streaks on his face it looked like he had been crying.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >She could guess what had happened. "Sam," she groaned. "Is it Angela?" Sam turned away, covering his face with his smock. "No."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"I know when you're lying."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"No you don't."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori rolled her eyes and petted Charlie, her unicorn, who had scampered over. She sat down on her bed. "Sam, what did she do <i>this </i>time?" she asked angrily. Sam looked down. "It's just...I thought she was different, you know? But then I caught her holding hands with Brian GriffinFist in the Commons again and--"</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Samuel Shadowhunter had a rather petty romantic life. It was almost comical, how unfortunate he was in the dating department. He had terrible luck with these things and often would only last for a week with a girlfriend. Cori found it all rather amusing, but sometimes he was genuinely hurt.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Now that Sam was out of the way, she could even see what he had been painting. It was Angela Lifeblossom's portrait, her delicate nose pointing up and her long, blonde hair flowing past her shoulders. She groaned.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Just then her whole dorm started shaking. All her pets squealed and ran frantically for shelter. The mirror was knocked on its side and Cori fell off the bed. "<i>Oomph</i>." She was laying on the floor, and the shaking was so violent she had bounced under the bed. In the mirror she could see Sam running out of his dorm. She crawled out from under the bed and ran outside, wondering what had happened.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Her face drained of color. The sky was a menacing dark gray with purple clouds. Lightning struck everywhere, and multiple severe thunder storms were scattered around the sky. There was a tornado tearing through Ravenwood, shaking all the schools' trees violently, but that wasn't the worst of the problem. Students were screaming and running everywhere. Most retreated to inside Bartleby. Some pushed pass Cori and some other gaping students into the safety of their dorms. Others ran frantically toward the tunnel that lead to the Commons.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >She could see why.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>Malistaire</i>. She couldn't, however, comprehend what she was seeing. Professor Malistaire, the Death professor, was standing tall up on a piece of land ripped out of the ground that was floating high above the schools' roofs. Lightning surrounding him. He held his staff. There was a steely glint in his eye.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Merle Ambrose!" he shrieked. His voice was magnified so that it boomed as loud as the thunder. Cori couldn't believe her ears. Quiet, gentle Professor Malistaire. Shrieking at the top of his lungs. Standing on a torn piece of land. Conjuring up storms to destroy Ravenwood. "You have not allowed me to use my power to bring my wife back. You have failed to save her. All of you. All of you! Unworthy of learning Death magic! Imbecilic fools! I swear today that I shall get my vengeance, for me, and for Sylvia. I will come back one day, Ambrose, and until then..."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori watched, transfixed, as he raised his staff. Lightning shot out from it and surrounded the Death school. It was torn out of the ground and lifted up into the sky. She fell down from the tremors this caused. She couldn't believe it. She never knew he was this powerful. Powerful, sure. But not enough to destroy everything in Wizard City.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Malistaire," said a deep, slow, booming voice. "Stop this. You will regret it one day. It will not bring back Sylvia," said Bartleby.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Malistaire scowled from his post. "And you. I never liked you, Bartleby." He raised his clenched hand up and Bartleby's right eye was torn out of its socket and flew into Malistaire's hand. "I'll be keeping this." With one final clap of thunder, Malistaire vanished in a flash of light. Suddenly, all the storms evaporated and stopped. The tornado simply vanished. The Death school was gone. Bartleby's right eye was gone. Malistaire Drake was gone.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori Deaththorn fainted.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >When she woke up again, it was late afternoon. Orange sunlight streamed in from a window on Cori's right and onto her body in streaks. She groaned and lifted up her right arm to look at it. "What--wha?"</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Sshhh, shhh. Rest," said a soft voice. Cori stirred. She tried to sit up and turn around to her left, but the effort it required was surprising. She gave up halfway and settled for having only her head facing the left and her body slumped slightly to the left.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Professor Moolinda?"</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Professor Moolinda set down a tray of green tea on the end table next to the bed Cori was lying on. "Shh, child. You never knew how to be still." Moolinda smiled wryly. She handed blew on a cup of tea before handing it to Cori. She turned again and took it gratefully, although she'd never liked tea. She nearly sloshed it down her front though, because she was drinking it so eagerly. It felt like she hadn't eaten in days.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >She saw Moolinda Wu watching her out of the corner of her eye. She felt embarrassed and humiliated about all she had done to torture her. It was wrong, she knew. Moolinda didn't deserve it. Really, she was nice, gifted even. Cori had always felt a need to hate Moolinda Wu; she couldn't really explain it. But she knew it was illogical. Unreasonable. Unjustified. She had been horrible to Moolinda.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >And yet here she was, taking care of her.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >I'm sorry, she wanted to say. I'm sorry for all I did to you.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >But she couldn't force the words out of her mouth. Instead she had to suffice with looking at Moolinda guiltily out of the corner of her eye.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"What happened?" she asked after she had finished gulping down her tea.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"You fainted, Cori. It's a good thing your cousin and his friend Mark had found you, or else you would have been trampled to death by the panicked students. You're already badly hurt from the tussle that followed the death school's...uprooting. You've been out for three days."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Oh." Her lips formed the word silently.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"What...what happened after? When Malistaire..."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"The headmaster wants to speak to you about that."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"What about the life lessons? Don't you have to teach?"</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"All classes have been canceled and students have been urged to stay home. We're...on high alert, see, in case...well. The headmaster will explain. But the classes have been closed until further notice. Don't worry."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori sighed and tried to make herself more comfortable. She wanted to go back to sleep. She was too tired to ask questions, really, although in normal circumstances she would have shooting off questions like bullets.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Sylvia...was a good friend of mine, you know." Cori's body ached every time she so much as breathed, but she whipped around so fast she dropped her cup. "She was?" she asked, eager to learn more about Sylvia.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Yes," sighed Moolinda. "She was an old colleague back when we were studying in MooShu. When she visited after she graduated it was always 'Cori this' and 'Cori that.'" Cori felt pleased, secretly, on the inside. "She would always joke around about how I should come down to Wizard City and teach Life. She'd always say that I was going to steal her job someday, or at least take it when she was gone or retired. I just...I never wanted it to be like this.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"But Cori, Sylvia was a remarkable woman who was full of love and optimism. She wouldn't want you to be angry and sad about her death. She would want you to move on and keep on living the rest of your life. With gusto and enthusiasm. Not wallowing away mourning something that will never change."</span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >At this Cori flared up. She turned away angrily and took back every apology she had said in her head. Who was Moolinda Wu to think that she could say what Sylvia would think? Who was she to say how she should deal with Sylvia's death, to disgrace it and put it off as if it was nothing and just go on with her life as if nothing had happened, when in reality something had torn away inside of her? Something deep and irreplaceable.</span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" ><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >She felt like smashing the teacup on the floor, but restrained herself by gripping it tightly. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Moolinda seemed to sense her distress and dropped it. "Did Sylvia ever tell you about the time she and Malistaire nearly killed Cyrus Drake?" The corners of Cori's lips twitched up. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >They moved on to lighter topics; the next lesson in life class, how everyone was doing, favorite artists, books (they both enjoyed world-renowned author Sarah Spritheart and discussed her upcoming new series) and mostly, Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia. Her favorite colors (green and blue), her favorite drink (green tea), her favorite spell (seraph), and books, always books. Something Moolinda, Cori, and Sylvia all had in common was their love of reading.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori laughed so much that her ribs hurt (although really they were so delicate right now almost any movement hurt them). Moolinda nearly had tears in her eyes.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >They talked for hours, until it was lights-out. Moolinda said good-bye to Cori and turned the lights off. Cori waved weakly and soon was out cold. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >When she woke up again, she saw the grinning face of Samuel Shadowhunter peering at her. "Cori!" he cried joyously. Cori blinked groggily. She tried to sit up and saw star bursts popping before her eyes. It was hard to focus, but when her eyes adjusted she could see Sam's friend Mark DarkCrafter watching her from a chair next to her bed.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Wha--what...?" She put a hand to her forehead to keep the world from spinning. She blinked and closed her eyes. When she opened them again the world was clear. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Mark grinned impishly from his seat. "You drool when you sleep." Her face reddened. She looked down quickly at her hands.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sam ignored him and bounced up and down happily. "Cori, guess what?"</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >"What," she said flatly. He took no notice of her tone of voice and continued his little dance. "We're going to track down Malistaire!"</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >She nearly choked. "Wh--<i>what?</i>" She looked at him in disbelief, her face drained of any color. Sam paused and looked at her quizzically. "What's wrong?" he asked. Cori was at a loss for words. How could she explain the feeling of dread at the bottom of her stomach when she could barely understand it herself? She felt a cold, dark fear that made her skin crawl at the prospect of meeting Professor Malistaire again. It was baffling; Professor Malistaire had always been malevolent before this, and she was sure that he had just had a fit out of grief for his wife. It was perfectly understandable, to her. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >And yet why was she so scared?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sam started bouncing again. "Ambrose's picked us to go find Malistaire and talk some sense in to him--you know, bring him back," he said excitedly. Cori felt a rush of belief, although it was small. The color went back in her cheeks. She was aware of Mark watching her intently and was faintly embarrassed--she must have looked like a wreck. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Why us?" she said faintly. Sam shrugged. "I guess we're his favorites, or Malistaire's, or something. But we get to go to Dragonspyre early!" </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori wrung her hands nervously. "I don't know..."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Mark smiled lazily, showing his sharp canines. "I can already go to Dragonspyre. It's okay if you guys want to go without me, if my presence is what's bothering you, Cori..." He winked. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori blushed furiously. "No, I'll go. Sheesh. When do we have to leave?" She was still sore all over and it would have been a miracle if she could cast an imp. "In an hour," said Sam, grinning widely. He took a seat next to Mark. "Are you kidding me?" she asked in disbelief. "Nope. Want me to help you pack?" asked Mark with a roguish smile. Sam elbowed him. "No hitting on my cousin. Gross." Cori rolled her eyes and sighed. "Am I even allowed out of the hospital?"</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sam nodded eagerly. "They just let you out this morning."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Cori sighed and stepped out of bed onto the cold, hardwood floor. Her feet felt bare and exposed, cold. She stumbled for a little bit and Mark and Sam rushed forward to catch her. She wanted to say thanks, but instead snapped, "I'm fine." She wobbled uncertainly and stumbled again. Mark caught her from behind her and tsked. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >"My, my, Cori. At this rate we'll be in Dragonspyre in <i>no time</i>." </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >She scowled. "Just help me get to my dorm." </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Once Cori had changed back into her regular robes, she met up with Sam and Mark in front of Merle Ambrose's house. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sam greeted her happily. "Cori! There you are!" Mark rolled his eyes. "We've been waiting for forever." Cori resisted the urge to kick him. "Are we going in or what," she grumbled. Mark nodded and knocked on the door. They all waited expectantly. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >---</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >MY GOODNESS. I'M FINALLY DONE! </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >*collapses*</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Yes. I know. It's terribly boring and horrid but I just wanted to post something and get it over with. I couldn't go on with procrastinating this forever. Yeah. It's horrible. I just wanted to sort of end it all. I'm getting really tired of this. And I know it took WAY longer than I promised. I don't have any excuses. I procrastinated. I hardly edited. I didn't do any writing at all between a few days after I posted the preview and now. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I'm eating Swedish Fish. </span></div><p></p></div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-60389211263094752672011-09-23T23:14:00.003-05:002011-09-23T23:53:46.169-05:00Ahhh, the Weekend...I really love the weekends, you know? I really love Fridays. And that's what I love about today, because it's a Friday. <div><br /></div><div>I ended up giving up on the talent show tryouts--yes, I'm a quitter and I wasted time I could have spent writing. O wellp. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, what I love most about the weekends is being able to spend extra time with my best friend Kiwi (Kimberly SummerSinger) on Wizard101 after school, because she doesn't have a bedtime on weekends so she can stay up longer. Yay! And I can talk to her and all that on Yahoo! Messenger. We can stay up all night and junk just playing games and on the next day, Saturday, we get to spend the whole day together. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today was especially special. You know why?</div><div><br /></div><div>BECAUSE I FINALLY MET SARAH SPIRITHEART IN-GAME! </div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, yes, I know. Exciting stuff. At first we tried to use True Friend codes, but it turned out that both of our friends lists were full--LOL. Whoops. So much for that tactic XD So we ended up just meeting in the Krokotopia Library on Vampire. (Shame, too, because I was looking forward to having her name in my list all special and green. That did not sound creepy at all.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I would post pictures, but...</div><div><br /></div><div>I think I over-wrote them by accident. *gets shot* YES. I KNOW. HOW COULD I DO SUCH A THING? *slams head against wall*</div><div><br /></div><div>I was incredibly boring (typical of me) and she met my best friend Kimberly Summersinger. She and I had a brief PvP with her before she had to leave, going against my little brother's Grandmaster Death. (I won, but I think she was just going easy on me.) </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So...yeah. I'll add more when I think of it. Right now I'm hanging out with Kiwi and her sister Brandi on Wizard101. Going to work on Cori Deaththorn more later (I got a comment from Sarah and I died, so expect it to come really, really quick). </div><div><br /></div><div>Errm. Yeah. The reason this post is rushed is because I'm itching to get back to Wizard101 with my friends. I had to go into "brb mode" so I could type this up.</div><div><br /></div><div>Peace!</div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-59930279957307265912011-09-22T18:16:00.002-05:002011-09-22T18:26:02.392-05:00DelaysHey, guys!<div><br /></div><div>What's that? I promised that part one of Cori Deaththorn <i>and </i>Magician's Daughter would be up by now? Well, I never! I never--</div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, yes. Yes I did. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I have good reasons! </div><div><br /></div><div>No, seriously, I do. It's not the usual procrastinating thing again. </div><div><br /></div><div>See, tomorrow after school there's this talent show tryout and I've been wanting to join...</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, you read that right. Me, useless oaf with no talent, joining a talent show. What will I be doing? Singing and playing the piano, of course. (Unoriginal.) Anyway, for the past few days and today I've been practicing the piano accompaniment. It's going kinda slow. I know the gist of the whole song, but I can't sing along yet, and I can't play the whole thing. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thank goodness I have no homework. When I remembered I was so glad and happy. The weather outside's marvelous. Nice and really cool, dark, gray, cloudy (probably some more storms later). </div><div><br /></div><div>Cori Deaththorn is coming along great, by the way. It's...seriously. It's really coming along well. I'm really pleased. So expect it soon after tomorrow :D</div><div><br /></div><div>Just a little quick update. </div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-50809888768567057872011-09-20T19:51:00.025-05:002011-09-22T22:14:08.284-05:00Cori Deaththorn, Part 1 (Excerpt)<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; text-align: center; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Cori Deaththorn, Part 1</b></p></div><p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></p><p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></p><p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><font=comic ms="" sans="">It was a hot, summer day in the Life classroom. Students were lazily daydreaming and resting their heads while Moolinda Wu droned on about the importance of focusing all your energy into a spell--they were going into more advanced magic.<br /><br />Cori Deaththorn huffed in frustration. She tapped her pencil angrily--violently--against her desk. She had learned this lesson ages ago, albeit with a different teacher. She pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, only to have it fall back. The heat was extremely irritating, and the sweat didn't help.<br /><br />She was feeling rebellious. "Professor Wu?" She threw her hand up in the air. Moolinda Wu paused in her speech and looked at her exasperatedly. "Yes, Cori? What is it this time?" She looked ready to drop dead.<br /><br />"I want Sylvia back." At this Moolinda Wu's eyes flashed with anger. "That's it!" she screeched. "Headmaster's! Now!" Most of the students snapped to attention and were looking between Cori and Moolinda Wu fearfully. No one could make Moolinda Wu lose her zen-like calm. Ever.<br /><br />No one, that was, except Cori Deaththorn. It was amazing, really, how she knew how to set Moolinda on edge. For one, the Life professor hated any mention of Sylvia Drake, the old Life teacher before her; how the students always wished that Sylvia were back and teaching instead of Moolinda. Most students learned very quickly that to mention Sylvia Drake was to ask for an abrupt end. They steered clear of her in any conversation with Moolinda Wu, but it didn't stop the whispers in the hallways.<br /><br />Cori calmly got up and walked out of the classroom. The other students peered curiously at her as she walked by them, part awe-struck and part incredulous at her bratty behavior. No one quite knew why she had turned into a "bad kid"--she used to be the star-example of what a student should be.<br /><br />But they had an inkling. She and Sylvia Drake had been close.<br /><br />Merle Ambrose looked up from his stack of papers as he heard the door open and chuckled. "Why, if it isn't one of my favorite students." Cori couldn't hold back a smile. Recently, Merle Ambrose was one of the only people she could be herself with.<br /><br />"Have a seat." He gestured toward the plush velvet seat across his desk. Cori plopped down and made herself comfortable. Recently, she had been coming here a lot.<br /><br />Merle cleared his throat and set his stack of papers aside. "So, tell me, Cori. What did you do this time?" Worry lines creased his forehead. Again, like so many times before, Cori felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn't have been causing all this trouble. It only pained those around her and did nothing for herself, really.<br /><br />But she was selfish. She needed to let out all the anger and resentment somehow.<br /><br />She took a deep breath. "Sylvie." Merle nodded solemnly and patted Cori's hands with his own large ones. There were tears in his eyes, and in hers too. Sylvia had been dear to both of them. Merle sighed and wiped the tears out of his eyes.<br /><br />"I miss her," whispered Cori. Merle shook his head. "I do, too, Cori. But this reckless behavior has got to stop." Cori hung her head. "What good does it do to anyone?"<br /><br />Merle patted her hands. "Please think this over, Cori. Now, if you'll excuse me, I rather have much work to do..."<br /><br />Cori walked out out feeling strange. There was only an hour left in the school day, anyway, and after that all the students would be bustling out of the school rooms and into various areas of Wizard City.<br /><br />She walked back to Ravenwood, heading for the girls' dormitory tower. She opened the door and into Room 113. The tower was magically modified so that when you walked in the door you were automatically transferred to your room, instead of having to walk up endless flights of stairs. Besides, the other option of building up posed safety hazards. This also protected privacy and conserved space. </font=comic></p><p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></p><p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">Cori tried to contact her cousin Sam with her standing mirror. She recited a spell and tapped the glass, which caused it to conjure up an image of him. Sam's back was to her, and he was painting something up on his easel. She knew he had been sick today, but from his posture and constant sniffling it seemed that he had gotten worse as the day progressed.</p><p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"Sam?" Sam kept on painting. "Sam!" He turned around, alarmed, before he saw that his Cori was in his mirror. "Oh. Cori. It's just you." He set his pallet down and took off his barrette, which he wore ridiculously. He looked rather down, she realized. From the streaks on his face it looked like he had been crying. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">She could guess what had happened. "Sam," she groaned. "Is it Angela?" Sam turned away, covering his face with his smock. "No." </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"I know when you're lying."</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"No you don't."</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Cori rolled her eyes and petted Charlie, her unicorn, who had scampered over. She sat down on her bed. "Sam, what did she do <i>this </i>time?" she asked angrily. Sam looked down. "It's just...I thought she was different, you know? But then I caught her holding hands with Brian GriffinFist in the Commons again and--" </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Samuel Shadowhunter had a rather petty romantic life. It was almost comical, how unfortunate he was in the dating department. He had terrible luck with these things and often would only last for a week with a girlfriend. Cori found it all rather amusing, but sometimes he was genuinely hurt. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Now that Sam was out of the way, she could even see what he had been painting. It was Angela Lifeblossom's portrait, her delicate nose pointing up and her long, blonde hair flowing past her shoulders. She groaned.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Just then her whole dorm started shaking. All her pets squealed and ran frantically for shelter. The mirror was knocked on its side and Cori fell off the bed. "<i>Oomph</i>." She was laying on the floor, and the shaking was so violent she had bounced under the bed. In the mirror she could see Sam running out of his dorm. She crawled out from under the bed and ran outside, wondering what had happened.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Her face drained of color. The sky was a menacing dark gray with purple clouds. Lightning struck everywhere, and multiple severe thunder storms were scattered around the sky. There was a tornado tearing through Ravenwood, shaking all the schools' trees violently, but that wasn't the worst of the problem. Students were screaming and running everywhere. Most retreated to inside Bartleby. Some pushed pass Cori and some other gaping students into the safety of their dorms. Others ran frantically toward the tunnel that lead to the Commons. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">She could see why.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Malistaire</i>. She couldn't, however, comprehend what she was seeing. Professor Malistaire, the Death professor, was standing tall up on a piece of land ripped out of the ground that was floating high above the schools' roofs. Lightning surrounding him. He held his staff. There was a steely glint in his eye.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"Merle Ambrose!" he shrieked. His voice was magnified so that it boomed as loud as the thunder. Cori couldn't believe her ears. Quiet, gentle Professor Malistaire. Shrieking at the top of his lungs. Standing on a torn piece of land. Conjuring up storms to destroy Ravenwood. "You have not allowed me to use my power to bring my wife back. You have failed to save her. All of you. All of you! Unworthy of learning Death magic! Imbecilic fools! I swear today that I shall get my vengeance, for me, and for Sylvia. I will come back one day, Ambrose, and until then..."</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Cori watched, transfixed, as he raised his staff. Lightning shot out from it and surrounded the Death school. It was torn out of the ground and lifted up into the sky. She fell down from the tremors this caused. She couldn't believe it. She never knew he was this powerful. Powerful, sure. But not enough to destroy everything in Wizard City. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"Malistaire," said a deep, slow, booming voice. "Stop this. You will regret it one day. It will not bring back Sylvia," said Bartleby. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Malistaire scowled from his post. "And you. I never liked you, Bartleby." He raised his clenched hand up and Bartleby's right eye was torn out of its socket and flew into Malistaire's hand. "I'll be keeping this." With one final clap of thunder, Malistaire vanished in a flash of light. Suddenly, all the storms evaporated and stopped. The tornado simply vanished. The Death school was gone. Bartleby's right eye was gone. Malistaire Drake was gone.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Cori Deaththorn fainted. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">When she woke up again, it was late afternoon. Orange sunlight streamed in from a window on Cori's right and onto her body in streaks. She groaned and lifted up her right arm to look at it. "What--wha?"</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"Sshhh, shhh. Rest," said a soft voice. Cori stirred. She tried to sit up and turn around to her left, but the effort it required was surprising. She gave up halfway and settled for having only her head facing the left and her body slumped slightly to the left. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"Professor Moolinda?"</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Professor Moolinda set down a tray of green tea on the end table next to the bed Cori was lying on. "Shh, child. You never knew how to be still." Moolinda smiled wryly. She handed blew on a cup of tea before handing it to Cori. She turned again and took it gratefully, although she'd never liked tea. She nearly sloshed it down her front though, because she was drinking it so eagerly. It felt like she hadn't eaten in days.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">She saw Moolinda Wu watching her out of the corner of her eye. She felt embarrassed and humiliated about all she had done to torture her. It was wrong, she knew. Moolinda didn't deserve it. Really, she was nice, gifted even. Cori had always felt a need to hate Moolinda Wu; she couldn't really explain it. But she knew it was illogical. Unreasonable. Unjustified. She had been horrible to Moolinda.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">And yet here she was, taking care of her. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">I'm sorry, she wanted to say. I'm sorry for all I did to you.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">But she couldn't force the words out of her mouth. Instead she had to suffice with looking at Moolinda guiltily out of the corner of her eye. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"What happened?" she asked after she had finished gulping down her tea. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"You fainted, Cori. It's a good thing your cousin and his friend Mark had found you, or else you would have been trampled to death by the panicked students. You've been out for three days."</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"Oh." Her lips formed the word silently. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"What...what happened after? When Malistaire..."</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"The headmaster wants to speak to you about that."</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Cori sighed and tried to make herself more comfortable. She wanted to go back to sleep. She was too tired to ask questions, really, although in normal circumstances she would have shooting off questions like bullets.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"Sylvia...was a good friend of mine, you know." Cori's body ached every time she so much as breathed, but she whipped around so fast she dropped her cup. "She was?" she asked, eager to learn more about Sylvia. </span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"Yes," sighed Moolinda. "She was an old colleague back when we were studying in MooShu. When she visited after she graduated it was always 'Cori this' and 'Cori that.'" Cori felt pleased, secretly, on the inside. "She would always joke around about how I should come down to Wizard City and teach Life. She'd always say that I was going to steal her job someday, or at least take it when she was gone or retired. I just...I never wanted it to be like this.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">"But Cori, Sylvia was a remarkable woman who was full of love and optimism. She wouldn't want you to be angry and sad about her death. She would want you to move on and keep on living the rest of your life. With gusto and enthusiasm. Not wallowing away mourning something that will never change."</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">At this Cori flared up. She turned away angrily and took back every apology she had said in her head. Who was Moolinda Wu to think that she could say what Sylvia would think? Who was she to say how she should deal with Sylvia's death, to disgrace it and put it off as if it was nothing and just go on with her life as if nothing had happened, when in reality something had torn away inside of her? Something deep and irreplaceable.</span></p><br /><br /><hr />Hey, guys. I'm back today with another post. As I looked over this draft quickly I realized that it was going to be a LOT longer than expected, and it would take more than just a day to finish. Since I felt bad about not meeting my deadlines (and I'm procrastinating practice...*cough* Curses. Why does it have to be so hard?) I decided to post an unedited excerpt in all its not glory for you guys to read. <div><br /></div><div>Errrm. I don't know what I was thinking. </div><div><br /></div><div>But back to practice, I guess. Running out of time and still haven't accomplished anything...</div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-84706232992247471382011-09-17T21:42:00.000-05:002011-09-17T22:26:04.846-05:00Neglecting my website...I've been neglecting my <a href="http://coriscrayonbox.webs.com/">website's blog</a>. It's really sad. And not just the blog, the whole website. I love my website. I really do. But I've been on a writing lag for the past year and since my website is all about writing, there's nothing really to do. I haven't been writing the blog entries on my website and transferring them to Blogger either, like I said I'd do. I've been lazy. Curse my indecisiveness/indecisive love. I like Blogger a lot too, and I really like using it, so...sigh. Ramble ramble.<div><br /></div><div>Today's been really gloomy outside, raining and foggy as it is. I actually like this type of weather, even though a lot of people don't. So...yeah! I like all kinds of weather, actually, unless it's really hot and hot and just hot. (Especially if it's humid or arid.) As I am typing this up, my mother is ironing her white shirt. It's really cool.</div><div><br /></div><div>Errrm. This is one of my babbling posts about my day. Tomorrow I have church and church school. I'm playing Wizard101 and talking to my friend Brandi. I'm listening to "The Sword and the Pen" by Regina Spektor. I have to go to sleep soon. I'm reading one of my friend's writing on Google Docs. Living the dream.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have to set a deadline for writing. I'm going to set a resolution where I have to write more. So, as my first assignment, I'm going to post up the first chapter of my novel, Magician's Daughter, by September 21st. On September 24th I'll have rewritten the first chapter of my Wizard101 fanfiction, which was the whole reason for the existence of this blog in the first place. Man, I really need to stop procrastinating on that. It's been a year since the file's been lost, so it'll be good to start writing on it again. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-71692804248838015192011-09-16T19:42:00.000-05:002011-09-16T20:06:50.875-05:00ThirteenOkay, okay, I know, long overdue post. I planned to post this on September 12 or 13 so the date would look nice and shiny on my posts but, alas, it didn't happen.<div><br /></div><div>Maybe next year ,when I turn fourteen (dreading that even more than I did thirteen, which is weird--no special occasion number thing, I guess? Thirteen is a big deal, but fourteen doesn't seem as special). </div><div><br /></div><div>Errrm. Moving on.</div><div><br /></div><div>I turned thirteen, as you guys might have guessed. The end of the world didn't happen, surprisingly. It...wasn't as bad as...well, it wasn't that bad. But it's probably because my brain (which selfishly values its sanity above all else) hasn't processed this information yet. </div><div><br /></div><div>On my birthday, we didn't do anything because my mom was busy at work, so we celebrated it on the 13th at Steak & Shake. 'Twas fun and yummy. We ate my cake on Wednesday though, because when we got home we were all full. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm still eating the cake by myself on this Friday. Getting kind of sick of it, but oh well. </div><div><br /></div><div>So--presents! I guess most kids get presents, but this year I got only two--two homemade presents from my cousin Maxine and my best friend Tracy. Maxine recorded herself singing a song and sent it to me. I died at the end when she said, "Happy birthday Teresa!" Really. I died. My best friend Tracy compiled a video for me and IT WAS SO AWESOME. I loved these presents so much. </div><div><br /></div><div>My other best friend Kiwi is gifting me something on Wizard101 from the Crown Shop--a mount of my choice, which will come in handy, considering I'm the only one in our group of friends without a mount. </div><div><br /></div><div>I love all these people so much. *hugs everyone*</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess that's it. Can't wait to get back to the joys of blogging again. </div><div><br /></div><div>By the way: New layout! :D</div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-40858095729433236432011-08-16T18:42:00.000-05:002011-08-16T19:00:44.904-05:00Going on hiatusOkay, guys, so as many of you don't know, my birthday is on September 12! Lucky me, am I right?<div>
<br /></div><div>Well, no, actually, non-existent audience. (I'm talking to myself...again.) </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I have this weird, irrational fear of turning thirteen. And of aging in general (I was mortified when I turned twelve, and gave up my precious eleven-year old years), ever since I was eleven and a half. And...thirteen. Wow. I'm going to turn into a teenager. I won't be a kid anymore. Maybe I'm terrified of growing up?</div><div>
<br /></div><div>And I guess that I'm terrified because I haven't finished my novel yet. Stupid, and vain, and shallow, I know. But...I've had this dream for along time. And though originally I hated turning twelve because then I wouldn't be published at eleven (I know, I know, shallow and stupid) I matured and grew to realize that it wasn't just that young author thing that made me terrified of growing up--it was losing my kidhood, too.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I'm really going to miss being a "kid." In a month I'll be a teenager.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>So, I'm going on a month-long hiatus. I'm going to try and finish the first draft of <i>Magician's Daughter </i>before my birthday. I'll come back the day after, September 13, and tell you guys how that worked out. I think I'm taking a break from all Internet-related things. </div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-54127702576679406012011-08-13T11:43:00.000-05:002011-08-13T11:45:50.984-05:00New layoutOkay, okay, I know. "Make up your mind already, woman!" But for now, I'm just going to keep experimenting with these color themes. I like this green one, but I just might change it again--like back to hot pink, only with a different background. <div>
<br /></div><div>You didn't even get to see the orange one in effect for more than a day--o wellp XD </div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1452508777732701289.post-19052155207572292972011-08-12T21:42:00.000-05:002011-08-12T21:49:14.974-05:00Thank goodness for the old daysHaha, okay, ignore the lame title :D<div>
<br /></div><div>BUT I CAN ACTUALLY POST NOW IN THE "COMPOSE" TAB IN BLOGSPOT! YAY!</div><div>
<br /></div><div>It's kind of sad (okay, it really is sad) that it took me so long to figure this out. I went to settings and switched to the old post editor (screw the new one!) and now I can post normally again! Yey! Which means I can also finally comment on my favorite blogs again. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>And, errm, ahem. Excuse my pointless celebration over something so minor. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Also, I changed the layout of the blog! :D It's all orange now instead of coral-hot pink (awwhh D: It was hard to choose). But rest assured, peeps, that green is still my most favorite color ever, despite my blog's color theme. </div>missingllamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10233253748710446576noreply@blogger.com2