SWC #7- the asylum

So I decided to go with some backstory for Peril this time.

Peril peered at the sign overhead. "The Criminally Insane" She studied the ground once more. Her hand seemed very small in Whorlie's hand. Why were they here? Why would Whorlie take her here? What had happened to father? Was he here?

She didn't look back, although she wanted too. She knew Kejan wouldn't be there. She wished he. Of course, she trusted Whorlie. He was father's top man, and he always protected her from the sneers of father's other men. Still she liked Kejan more. He was a bit younger than most the others. He never looked at her the way they did. Kejan never used that big word that she didn't understand.

Hereditary.

Instead, he taught her things. A lot of things. Kejan taught her to read. He taught her how to set snares for catching dinner. He taught her all about the woods. He taught her never to let on how much she really knew. Not even Whorlie would've known she could read that sign with ease.

He taught her that there were very bad people in the world. He said that some of them were father's men. He hoped one day she would not have to be around such bad people. He said that he was one of them.

That she did not believe. Why would Kejan be bad? If he was all that bad, why would he be so kind to her? If he was bad, he would be more like the other men. He would call her things like "witch" and "demon child." He would threaten to burn her under a tree like they did. Or worse, he would be like her father, and deny she existed.  

But Kejan wasn't here with his peaceful presence. So Peril tightened her grip on Whorlie's hand and he squeezed back in reassurance. It was part of how they communicated with each other. Somehow she knew when Whorlie told her it was time to hide, or eat, or sleep just by a squeeze of her shoulder or by a small nod and a smile. 

The castle mansion rose above them. She detested the walls. Gray brick and musty. The halls echoed with noise. People screaming and crying and muttering and running. Why were they here? 

Whorlie asked a few directions to the "head of this madhouse," but Peril tried to block it all out. She wasn't here. There was no roof. No walls. No wailing. She was alone in a wood with the wind teasing the trees and the creek trickling through the grass. 

It worked until they entered a very dark hall. It really wasn't any darker than the other halls. In fact, it was much quieter here. Near silent. But it felt so much more darker. And that's why it took her from her daydream. It must've. A large door waited at the end of the hall and Whorlie didn't even knock. 

"I see you've brought her." A man behind a desk stood. No, he didn't stand. He towered. His ivory skin contrasted with the black bleakness of the whole room. 

Whorlie shook his head, "But what of--"

"He is dead," the other man said with strong certainty.

Somehow Peril knew they meant her father. She didn't know how she knew. But she did. Something inside her told her she ought to feel sad. She ought to cry. But how could one ever cry for a father? It wasn't like they cared. It wasn't like they did anything of importance in a person's life. Oh, he'd helped bring her into this life. But if she was supposed to owe him something for that, then forget it. Something else deep down. A grim amusement was glad that she wouldn't have to see him again. 

He had tried to kill her once. 

"How old is she?" the man nodded to Peril.

"Does it matter, Matagan?" Whorlie stood more in front of her. What was going on?

Matagan shrugged. "For the records."

"Five years," Whorlie answered. "Is this really necessary? I mean, you've gotten him. Why--"

Matagan waved him away. "You know this will help you go free. We've been through this."

"Yes, but she's done nothing. To put her here. She's merely--"

"Whorlie," that all-too commanding voice returned to Matagan, "It is not this place that is haunted. It is simply a building. It's the people that it houses to free the rest of society from their kind. And she," Matagan pointed at Peril, "She is more haunted than I've ever seen. You know what her mother was, and with her father too. You know what she'll become."

Peril stuck her chin out. She wouldn't let this man know how terrified she was that maybe they were right. Maybe everything they ever said was true. She never knew her mother, but if her mother had been a sorceress, perhaps the spirits would come haunt her too? What if she went mad like father? What if she turned out as a bad person who hurt other people? The people that Kejan warned her against. The person her father was. What if--

"Just look at her eyes." Matagan jerked a hand toward her with disdain.

Peril blinked her eyes, not simultaneously. She blinked one right after another. It always freaked out father's men when she did that. It accentuated the fact that her eyes were each a different color. One a burning amber, the other an icy blue. Or so father's men had said

Whorlie shook his head. "I know. I'.m sorry."

"Hm, yes." Matagan's gaze fell down to Peril in full study mode now. He walked around her, but she simply turned with him. Always facing him. 

"Impertinent, she is," Matagan mumbled."Is she smart?"

Whorlie shrugged. "She's five, sir? She's shown no development of her parents as of yet."

Matagan did his "hm, yes," response again. He waved a hand at Whorlie. "You may go."

Whorlie moved but Peril did not release his hand. He gave her a smile and the shoulder squeeze to stay. Peril shook her head and clenched her teeth. What was he doing? She wouldn't stay in this monstrous place. She'd trusted him. 

"Now Peril." Whorlie knelt. "This man here is going to take good care of you, okay? I have dangerous business to attend--"

Peril hugged his neck. Whorlie lied. This man intended to do no such thing. 

Whorlie worked to free himself from her entangling grip. "You'll be safe here. Nobody will try to burn you or touch you or hurt you in any way." 

She let go. Because it was useless. She was only five. No matter how she fought, in the end Whorlie would leave and she would stay with Mr. Creeps the human tower.

Why was Kejan not here? No, she knew. Kejan would not have let this happen. Whorlie made sure Kejan wouldn't be here. She took a step away from Whorlie in disgust. He may go and leave her if he wish. But she would not stay here. 

Whorlie left. Peril stood in the middle of that dark room and toed the cobbled floor. Matagan lifted her chin, but she jerked away and bit his finger. 

Matagan clubbed her on the head and she let go. He was rather composed for someone who'd gotten bit. "Insolent girl." He glared at her. "And Whorlie said you weren't crazed yet."

Oh, she wasn't. But if that's what they wished to believe, she could play it up. And when they weren't looking, she'd get away. 

Matagan called for someone. Peril didn't remember much else. Except that they put her in a stupid white dress. Frilly and silky. Nothing like one would wear in a mental ward. But then all the prisoners had worn everyday clothes, not just her. 

She made them drag her to a room then. They said it was "her room" but it was only a room. The asylum would never, never be her home. She would not belong here. If she could ever help it. She would refuse to speak. Not a peep. They could think she was crazy. What did they know? 

There was only one other thing Peril remembered about that day.

That first evening, the nightmares started. 

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Vlog: more Liebester award questions

Thank you Eve @ Edge of Night for tagging me for this! It was a lot of fun, as videos usually are. :)

You should go check her blog out! She's taken a short break to work on her novel (the best reason ever!). But you should definitely read some of her older posts. She writes some awesome poetry!

Oh! Oh, there's this really cool series on youtube called Mind the Gap. It's hilarious and awesome! A good way to kick off the day (it rhymes, people!). Here's the intro video.

By the way, do you all have any topics you'd want to hear about via vlog?

Summer Writing Camp #7 - It's the last one!

So summer is coming to a close. Do you know how much I dislike saying that? I don't even what to look at all the school supplies the stores have put up. And I like that kind of stuff. Pencils and notebooks. *sighs*

Moving onward, this will be our last and final prompt for the summer. It makes me sad. I love reading all of your creative ideas. They are all so different, even though the prompt is the same! It's amazing how diverse everyone is.

If you want to join, it's one of the easiest things in the world. You come up with something related to the prompt. Be it short story, poetry, song, a scene, whatever you want. Get creative. Have fun with it! Link back here and you've done it. You have joined us for our finally Summer Writing Camp. 

The deadline is August 28th.

Fellow blogglings your prompt is:

*chessy drum roll*

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Did you like this link up? Would you want to see it again next summer? How can it improve? Also, do you like doing link-ups in general? What kind? Throw me some ideas!

SWC #6: Oddball and Peril

I'm very untimely when replying to comments. *hides face* I don't even know why. I love all your comments. You, people, are awesome! 

Okay, this prompt fit an Oddball scene I had in mind. But-

It's in Peril's POV. I'll try to keep it as unconfusing as possible. 

*frowns at Oddball* What are you laughing at?

Oddball: I'm sorry. What were you saying earlier today? 'Peril is the definition of inconsistent'?

Why are- You know, what? Just read the script. 

(If you want to join the link up, it's here! It's due today actually. . . )

Peril felt a presence close to her. Oddball leaned toward her with a tin cup. She took it and smiled. 

"Maybe this gas burner wasn't such a bad idea after all," Oddball said. 

Peril held the cup close and breathed in the bitter smell of coffee. Wonderful. 

He poured himself a cup and sat back against the rocks. The small gas burner was the only light in the dark cave, but she was pretty certain that he stared at her. 

Oh, he expected her to reply! Right. Of course. 

"You still would teased Rocky about bringing it anyways." She sipped the coffee tentatively. It was still too hot. 

Oddball shrugged. He offered her some jerk and she shook her head. She wasn't really hungry. 

He made a face after swallowing some. "You know, Rocky could live off this stuff?"

"I believe it." She laughed and then stopped. She sounded almost rational. Nothing like the persona she had created for herself. She glanced at Oddball. 

"Can you remember the last time we had a real meal?" he asked. It seems he didn't notice. Though stopping mid-laugh would be something weird that her persona would've done. So maybe he wouldn't have noticed. Or maybe he was just hungry, with all his talk of food.

"At Hawk's," Peril said. "During Christmas?"

Oddball rubbed his chin. "Is potluck a real meal?"
 

"I don't remember," she said, "what is a real meal again?"

Oddball laughed. She was glad he was smiling. He hadn't done much of that when they were in the Border. But here they were lost in some cave in the Labyrinth and out of all the people in the world, Oddball smiled. She wished she knew how to make him smile more often. 

But right now, she didn't feel much like smiling herself. She didn't really know why. But she had to, right? That was her mask.

"I remember," Oddball shifted on the cave floor so that his elbows were propped on his knees, "when I was really, really young-"

"Because you're just so old now," Peril tried to put more quirk into what she said.

Oddball chuckled, "Yeah, something like that. . . We would eat tree mussel stew." He stared at the ground. "It was the best. And my mother would make it."

Peril sat forward. This stew sounded disgusting. But Oddball never talked about his parents. Never about himself. She kind of hoped he would go on. Just out of curiosity. But he fell silent again.

She wanted to prod him, yet she felt it was always a sensitive subject. His past in the Border. Of course, the mask she had created for herself was supposed to be oblivious and unintuitive. The mask would ask. If she cared anything about self preservation, she would ask.

"What's your favorite meal?" Oddball asked a little awkardly.

"This right here." Peril held up her mug and took a swallow. The coffee was cool enough now. Just the smell of it made her more herself. 

Oddball shook his head. "Like you need more energy."

Actually, it had the opposite effect on her. She could focus better. She wasn't so scatter-brained. She was more herself. Peril looked down into her cup. Which wasn't exactly a good thing. 

Oddball sighed. He actually tried to a conversation with her. She wasn't sure why. Worse, he had to drag words from her. Usually it would've been the other way around. Peril would make a general nuisance of herself, jump around, and ask wild questions while Oddball would grumble something about too many questions and her always causing trouble. 

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Peril shook her head. "Yeah, I'm good." She gave him a wide grin, but he only squinted at her in the darkness. 

Never before had she wished so much to be alone. Where no one could see her. Where she could just be herself in peace for two seconds. She didn't even know what herself was like. She glanced at Oddball. A part of her just wanted to tell him, to be able to be herself. And a part of her was scared out of her mind to do so.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. Surely, he'd understand, right?

"Yes. I'm just tired is all." She put the tin cup on the ground. She had enough of that. "I'll just turn in for the night." She left to the corner where she had placed her bedroll, and she didn't look back. 

It was the coffee, not Oddball, that always let her guard down. It was the Shamdram military and going back to the wretched asylum that she feared most, not Oddball seeing who she really was. 

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Well, that was terrible. Although it is 3:30 am. . .I'm not even going to try to edit.

If you are officially confused, I apologize.

What Turns me Off when the Romance Heats Up

I don't normally read books with heavy romance. But there's some romance I'm good with. Like the author "did" it right. So I decide to figure out what works for me and what doesn't.

Here's what doesn't:

(Buckle up for a long post.)

1. Smooching every hour/ 5 minutes/ millisecond

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I can't stand it when the couple is always kissing. It's kind of cheesy. Plus, the author is cheating themselves out of an awesome opportunity for a build up to a long awaited kiss. If the couple is kissing every millisecond, there's no build up for that final kiss at the end.

It's just their friends looking around saying, "Hey, where are so and so and what's her face? Oh." *rolls eyes* "They're kissing. Again. While we're trying to save the world."

It becomes cliched within a single chapter.

2. We don't like nobody else. The WORLD  is our enemy.

Allow me to introduce you to the obsessive couple. It's the two cute sweethearts who don't talk to anybody else. Since they've found each other, their friend life has virtually withered to small conversations like, "Nope, I can't come for pizza tonight. I'm going to the movies with *insert googoo eyes* him."

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This is the unhealthy couple who talk about how they love each other so much and hate everybody else.

Now, there does happen to be these life and death situations, like in dystopian, when the whole world really is against the couple and they only have each other to trust.

But that is very rare.

Why do I not like this?

1) It is unhealthy. Incredibly so.

2) Possibly a lot of first time couples may fall into this mistake of shutting the rest of the world out. It'd be nice if YA was realistic. Either encourage the healthy relationships by showing more. Or at least truthfully depict the negatives of bad relationships. (I think Hate List did the latter, perhaps to the extreme. Though I didn't actually finish the book. . .)

3) It's awfully gooey. I roll my eyes. A lot.

4) Most importantly, stories are life. Life is a story. Vice versa. Turn it however you want. But life is not all about your boyfriend/girlfriend. It's also family, friends, ups and downs, careers, education, hobbies, ARCH ENEMIES (because those are very important to remember).

3. I must save the world! After I find someone to kiss. . .

Aww! That's so -- anti-climatic.

Seriously, though. How often do save-the-world protagonists drown their plots in romance? Instead of saving the world, like their premise promised, they spend most of their time worrying about what dress they're going to wear to the dance. Or how terrible they sounded/looked when love interest walked into the room.

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Hello! I thought the world was about to end here!

This is why I like Cinder from the Lunar Chronicles. *SPOILERS AHEAD* Yes, she likes Kai. But she has bigger things on her plate. She happens to be on the run. Currently, Kai can't fit into her life. He has a empire to emperor over. She has a rebellion to plan.

 So does she cancel her plans and cater her life to her crush? No. That's stupid. She does what she has to. She gets tough and does the hard things. The important things come first (then she kidnaps him.)

Not saying that love is unimportant. But romance and love are different.

(By of way, Kai prioritizes also. Except he does something really stupid. And I don't want to talk about it.)

*SPOILERS END*

4. Hi, I just met you. And this is crazy, but-- Can I kiss you?

Crazy is exactly right.

Ever wonder about when a relationship goes from acquaintance to we-want-to-get-married overnight?

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They meet, they have a crush, next day they're kissing. What?! Maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but is it ever healthy when things escalate like that? (I'll confess, this is Wolf and Scarlet from Scarlet by Marissa Meyer They might be my OTP of the series.)

"We just met, but let's start dating now." I know people do this in real life. If you do this, I'm not judging you (I've come to the realization that I'm weird). But I don't exactly understand it either.

Why would you give your heart to a virtual stranger? Isn't that just asking for pain? I'm confused.

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5. The sex scene

This actually is the number one reason I won't finish a book (so, why is it point #5? I. . . don't know). It could be the number one reason I don't even open a book.

I'm not going to say you're a horrible person if you don't mind reading a sex scene. This is just my preference (actually this whole list is, so total disclaimer here). It's not my cup of tea. It's not something I want to read about. But it's also a big turn off for me. I get the impression that authors think they have make their characters go "all the way" (as people used to word it. . . it almost makes me laugh now). They all seem to write it simply because everybody else is writing it. I find that tiresome. I want a different story, with different characters.

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You can call me whatever you want, but I personally believe sex before marriage is not okay. I don't think it's even smart (but whose heart is set on logic when in such situations?).

I especially don't like reading these scenes in YA. Aren't teens taught that this isn't a good idea? Usually, or I would expect at least, parents discourage them from having sex. So why are we encouraging them? Why are we writing about characters who do this, AND making it all okay? Why are there rarely ever consequences? The aftermath seems unrealistically depicted, if you ask my opinion.

I have read a few sex scenes. Skimmed most. Sometimes skipped others. To be honest, I'm just tired of them. Recently, I've been closing the book altogether. Which makes me very sad.

It all makes me exhausted.

6. So physical

Some relationships seem physical from the very start.

I am a huge Divergent fan. But at the end of the first book, Tobias says something to the effect of, "I think I'm in love with you."

And I was like, "Wait a minute! Put on the brakes!"  He and Tris have been kissing and cuddling all this time and he's just now saying he loves her? No, no. This doesn't make sense. I know everybody is different. But I'm not going to kiss some guy and then hope love comes later. Kissing someone should be that love put into action. The love has to instigate it. Therefore it has to exist first.

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I read One by Leigh Ann Kopans. I love One! But when Merrin and Elias are together, at first they are all each other thinks about. And they kiss. A lot. Only after they've been spending weeks and weeks together does Merrin mention that she still hasn't told Elias her life dream. You know, her desired career choice and chief aim in life. If they were that serious, shouldn't this topic have come up before?

Maybe that is what I don't like. The relationship gets physical before it gets serious.

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That sounds backward to me. The physical and emotional aspect shouldn't come in such totality before the commitment comes. Otherwise, you could be putting yourself through a ton of heartache. Or it seems so to me.

I've never had a boyfriend, so what do I really know? But it feels like things shouldn't move that fast. If I did have a boyfriend and things moved that fast. . . I would probably get a little scared. No, a lot scared. I'd be running the other way.

Honestly, I want to know where the platonic relationships are. I miss those. (You see that in The Mentalist by the way. LOVE that show!) What about things that last and matter? What about getting to actually know each other beforehand? What is this mentality of let's kiss and then find out if we really like each other?

Sorry. I being ranty. Maybe I'm just reading the wrong books. But this is what turns me off romance.

Do you like romance? What are your bookish romance pet peeves? Oh! And what's your current OTP?

P.S. -  Summer Writing Camp #6 is due this Friday! If you want to join here's a link.

This pic is has no real purpose here; it just kind of happened.

a sisterhood blog tag

Bailey @ The Curiosity Collections tagged me for this! Thanks!

I'm still gone by the way. But you know, had to pop by and say 'hi.' 
*clears throat*
Hi! 


 

1. Are there any other writers in your family? 


Haha! No.

This is my life, people.

I'm the only odd fish here.

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2. What are your other hobbies besides writing?


Talking to my imaginary friends.

Plotting their lives. . . sometimes their deaths.

Reading books like they're going extinct.

Pretending like I'm some expert in ALL THE THINGS, and therefore creating my own world.

Making up conversations in my head. Because it is very infuriating to think of the smart comebacks after a conversation is over!

Aka writing.

*whispers* Mental writing.

3. Waffles or pancakes?


Waffles. You can put them in the toaster!

Also:

4. Do you collect anything?

Uh, books?

I would say candy but then. . . I eats it. 

5. Who is your favorite Avenger?

What kind of a question is this? Who do you think you are? 

*sighs* 

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You are all very cruel. Reminding me that Spidey isn't an Avenger.

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 I like Loki!

Oh, wait. . .

Okay, fine then. Thor is cool. As well as the Hulk. Captain America. Hawkeye.


But I like Spider-man.

6. Do you play any instruments?

Let me explain. No, I'll sum up. 

I attempt to make music on the guitar, and it comes out like noise.

 Also, I'm learning how to play bass. I'm so stoked about it! (Yay. . . more noise. Go Ashley.)
 

7. What is your favorite character you've ever written?

Wow, really? You're actually going to ask that. 

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 Um, I don't know if I can answer this one. It really is like Evans says. How can you ask me to pick a favorite child?! You make things so difficult.

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 To appease you monsters, I'll say Peril.

8. What is your favorite character you've ever read?


Again with the favorite questions! Are you human, Tris?!

I'm just going to say Aragorn.

And I dislike you all and your favorite questions. 

  

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9. Do you prefer to write short or long works?


Every time I try to write something short, it grows into a novel. 

I've stopped fighting it. 

10. What was the last absolutely stupendous book you read?

I read Pride and Prejudice.

Oh, and Sherlock Holmes. Alwayses Sherlock Holmes.

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You're turn!

The all important question here: Waffles or Pancakes? 

And always: the best book you've read recently. But that should go without saying, right?