My Psych Evaluation

Today I get to take a psycho-sexual evaluation to determine how much of a deviant I am. Even if I were the most pure and innocent person to ever live there is still no way that the end result would state that I am as harmless as a gentle summer breeze. According to Ian the result is always a matter of degree. It will state that I am a deviant and from there it is a matter of degree indicating just how much of a deviant I actually am.

I hate this.

I'm more than a little scared, and there isn't a single thing about this evaluation that registers in the "This is a good thing to do today" category on my bucket list, but it is something that I have to do to get to the finish line on this trial, so at 10:00 I will leave to get evaluated. On the bright side I get to read the report before it goes to the court so I am at least aware of what they say.

I still hate this.

Tam and I are going to Twin once the eval is over so that I can get out of Pocatello for a day. I need to get away from all this, and though Twin is not all that far away, it is not here, and that is a good thing.

I'm scared.

Thursday was the one year anniversary of Tam and I starting to date. It is a date that we chose because neither of us could agree/remember the actual date. It was some time in July, around the middle. The day was kind of a bust as she had to work and I have been borderline depressed. I made a really good vegan meal for us and we enjoyed a romantic evening. Hopefully we will make this weekend a better memory.

I'm off to get evaluated. Pray for me if you are reading this ... I need it.

Cheers,

I'm Back!

I was thinking about starting a new blog, one where I could simply keep track of all the different things that are happening in my life, one where I could rant and rave about the ups and downs that seem to be my lot in life lately (more downs than ups to be honest, but who is keeping track). And then I started looking back at this blog. I set this site up so that I could write and grow in that skill but it was never as well organized as I would have liked. I'm not a computer genius and I have no real desire to learn how to read all the code (simple as my friends tell me it is) that are needed to make this more fancy than the already glorified journal that it is. I began a new site (thanks Google for making my life a little easier) for writing and this has sat a barren waste for about a year or more as I debated whether to delete the site or leave it up. I'm going to leave it up.

I'm going to leave it up, but I'm going to change things up a bit. This is not my writing site anymore. This is my ranting site. This is the place where hopefully I will be able to vent ... I need one.

My life is in pieces right now. I have no glue or adhesive to put things back together with and so I am trying to hold it together with just my hands. I have all the pieces and I am putting them back together with one hand while the other hand simply tried to keep the other parts from falling back out of place. The problem is that each time i seem to pick up a new piece three more fall to the ground again. Sometimes those pieces shatter into even more pieces and I start the process over again.

I truly feel as if I have lost everything. I lost me career, I lost my family, I lost myself even. I have dreams and goals that I am afraid will never become realities because no one will see me as anything other than a felon (a vile one at that). One decision. That was all it took to take a good life and turn it around.

I'm not a bad person. I'm sure everyone says that, and it truly sounds cliched, but it is the truth. What about all the good that I have done? What about the people that I have helped? What about the other 20 years of my life where I wasn't a felon? Do those years count for nothing? In the eyes of the world they don't. judgment is a funny thing. We pass it so readily when someone does something that goes against our stigma, yet when we in turn trespass we expect to be given a get out of jail card no questions asked. I know that I am judged. I even deserve it to a degree (I did something wrong and I must make amends for that wrong) but is it beyond the realm of possibility that I can learn from my mistakes and be better, that my mistakes are not defining (as much as I fear they will be) but are simply a moment where I succumbed to weakness.

I cannot justify my actions. I will not place then on anyone's shoulders but my own. I own my choices, and this was a choice. It was the wrong choice, and one that I could not simply back out of once it was made. It was choice that could not be buried or covered up through half-truth or deception (thought God knows I tried). Like the oil from a BP spill, everything bad/wrong eventually rises to the top. The good part (if you can call it that) is that once it is on the top you can begin to clean up the mess. Which, coincidentally, is where I am now. I have my mop and my bucket and I am going to try and clean this mess up, my mess. That is the fist step; you have to own your messes. They are not mistakes; the term mistake suggests that you were unaware of the possible outcome, or that the part you played was somehow beyond your control. These kinds of messes are not mistakes. They are entered into willfully and with a full knowledge (whether you accept it or not) of the worst possible outcome--and with a mess of this nature it is never just a slap on the wrist.

I know what I did; I made the choice knowing full well that it was the wrong choice. I let myself fall into that viper den and I knew once I was bit that I was a dead man. I tried to ignore it but I knew that so long as I kept trying to hide the snake bite that venom would continue to kill me from the inside out. I was a shell of myself. I hated who I was. I was miserable and depressed. I was dying and I had only myself to blame. I lied to everyone about what was happening and I lied to myself about it being wrong. I justified my action and I justified how I was hurting those around me by blaming them for my own self-inflicted injuries. In the end I was hurting everyone that I loved as much or more than I was hurting myself.

The best thing that ever happened to me (ironic as this sounds) was when I finally started telling the truth about everything I had done. By finally being honest I was able to breath again. I didn't feel as if I was going to suffocate anymore because I was holding my breath waiting for the bomb to drop. I was still terrified, but I could be terrified outwardly. I no longer had to bottle it up and hide it from the world. I was liberated from my own prison. Now I just have to hope that I can avoid the literal prison that looms before me.

What am I trying to say through all this. These bi-polar ramblings have got to stop. Well, here it is. Here is the one thing I want to say most of all.

I am truly sorry.

I am sorry for everything that I have done, all the pain that I have caused, all the stress and heartache that has come due to my poor choices. I am sorry for hurting you. I am sorry.

I hope that reaches to right people. You know who you are if you read this.

As for you, Mr./Ms. Random Reader, I am sorry that you had to wade through the mire that is my rambling.

I'll post again. I have so much more to ramble on about. Until then ...

Cheers,

Alas, I Bid Farewell

So I find that I seldom, if ever, post anything here and I can't control the organization of this site as well as I would like. So, I have created a google site for my writing where I hope to post more regularly.

This is the address http://sites.google.com/site/wpricehamilton/ if you want to book mark it or ever peruse it. The site is pretty bare bones right now, but hopefully, as I write more I will begin to add to the material. It is more organized as well which is something that I like!

Anyway, I thought I would share ... if anyone cares ... ok!

Cheers,
Price

The Strain Review

There have been a rash of books hitting the new release shelves this past two years that have revolved around Vampires. In fact, the trend has been so prevalent that it prompted one book store to place this notice up ...


Though the image is funny, it also suggest a disturbing trend in literature. Why are there so many books being written about vampires as of late? More importantly, why do the vast majority of these circulate around the idea that having a blood sucking undead lover is appealing? Sure, Ann Rice touched on the idea in her various novels, Christopher Moore mocks this notion in his books Bloodsucking Fiends and You Suck (admittedly, Christopher Moore's novels are the only ones in this vein that I actually can stomach). These novels are well written, holding true to the original lore/legend associated with these creatures of the night, even if it is to merely mock them.

In contrast, the upswing in vampire popularity has led to a influx of novels that romanticize the vampire, almost to necrophalic (may not be a word, but I'm using it) levels. Enter the Twilight series. I am no fan of Ms. Meyer or her novels--ask any of my students, they hear the tirade any time the novels are referenced. I won't get into that, but I will say that if it doesn't burn up in sunlight, it isn't a vampire. Amidst all this vampire harlequin romance, there is a bright spot which has arisen. A new novel written by Academy Award Nominated director Guillermo del Toro and Acclaimed novelist Chuck Hogan, Strain.

I have been a fan of del Torro since he signed on to direct the first Hellboy film. I was blown away by Pan's Labyrinth and when I heard he was signing on to direct The Hobbit, I had a mini geekgasm. So, when my friend who manages a local book store told me that del Toro had a book coming out I was hooked before I even knew what the premise was. Strain is a vampire novel for a modern age. It takes into consideration all the lore and legend that Rice, Stoker, and a bundle of other authors draw from, debunking some of the more fantastic aspects (garlic, holy water, crucifixes) and spins some of the other aspects (elongated fangs, aversion to sun, thirst for blood) so that they are more thrilling to an audience which has been desensitized to violence through the new torture-porn film genre.

The basic plot goes thus:
On eve before a solar eclips, Dr. Ephraim Goodweather of the CDC is called in to investigate the mysterious events surrounding a Boeing 777 which lands at JFK international airport and immediately goes silent. When the plane is finally opened all of the passengers are discovered dead (save four) and a mysterious cabinet of dirt is discovered in the cargo hold but not registered on the manifest.

Dr. Goodweather begin his investigation assuming that a virus has been unleashed on New York. Through his investigation Goodweather meets Abraham Setrakian, a Jewish Holocaust survivor who knows more about the events surrounding the air plane incident and the virus than he may be letting on. Through their interaction Setrakian introduces Goodweather to "another v word: vampire."

The Strain is an gripping story that mixes fantasy and science to create a new take on the traditional vampire story. Though I thuroughly enjoyed the book, it is not without flaws. Let's start there and then move on to the good.

The Bad:
The biggest difficulty that I had with The Strain was the dialogue. As a writer I can attest to the fact that dialogue is the bane of the trade. Getting characters to speak in a manner that fits your vision and still seems natural to your audience is tough. What is often encountered is cliched interactions between characters that lead to predictable plot lines. While there is an element of predictability in the plot, the dialogue is stifled not by cliches but by an over abundance of "he said, she said" moments. Dialogue should have a natural flow. It assumes that each characters speaks in a way that distinguishes them, even minutely, from the other characters so that in situation of long back and forth dialogue the author can refrain from placing the "he said, she said" indicators after each sentence. This is not the case with The Strain. While the dialogue is strong on its own, Toro and Hogan use an over abundance of the "he said, she said" indicators to the point of annoyance and distraction.

I am an avid reader. I hate to out a good book down, but I found myself wanting to put down The Strain so that I could get away from the dialogue. I enjoyed the characters, but I felt insulted as a reader by the assumption that I could not figure out who said what to whom and when. I don't need to be led along and I doubt that the vast majority of their readers do not need to be led either. It was a little thing in the grand scheme, but it was a big distraction for me.

Part of this problem I attributed to translation; Del Toro is Spanish and I assumed that much of what he wrote had to go through some sort of translation process. The sentence construction both in the dialogue and the narration felt awkward, as if it was trying to force English language into Latin based sentence constructions. If you have ever learned to speak a different language it is apparent that English is not an easy fit, not everything translates over as fluidly as one would hope.

The other piece which I had a difficult time reconciling was the pace of the story. Del Toro is a brilliant director. His movies are visual masterpieces, and this is part of their immense appeal. The Strain attempts to take this same appeal and recreate it in text. While this is a great concept, the difference between text and film become quite apparent early on in the novel as heavy descriptions often begin to eclipse the narrative track. Transitions slip and some shifts in narrative are difficult to follow because there is little to nothing that prepares the reader for what is to come or follow. There are a few narrative tracks that are teased but not developed, and while that is expected to a degree because The Strain is the first book in a trilogy, the stories that are teased deal with minor characters that barely earn a passing nod in the entire 400 page novel. It is hard to imagine that these same characters will have any place in the future novels. While Del Toro uses this effect well in his movies (showing pieces of narrative that are off track from the main arc) this doesn't seem to translate as well into the written medium.

The Good:
I am a traditionalist. I love stories that are able to draw from and stay true to the original source material while making the new story unique. Books like Twilight, which take the most surface level aspect of the source material (this is a story about vampires) and them throws out everything that makes the original source material relevant (aversion to sun, garlic, flowing water, silver, etc.) are a waste of paper and time. Why claim to write a vampire novel if you are just going to change everything that makes them vampires? (I could go off on a very long tirade about how Ms. Meyer has ruined vampires forever, but I will refrain .... grumble grumble.) True, Del Toro and Hogan have changed the vampires that existed in Bram Stokers novel (and even Ann Rice's), the cliched blood sucking undead that is characterized by pale skin, elongated canines, and an affinity for long haired buxom virgins is replaced by a more realistic parasitic creature that is more bestial than suave.

Under the guiding hand of Toro and Hogan these vampires take on a more feral edge where their bodies go through a transition from revenant (mindless feral corpse seeking to fulfill its own bestial instincts and cravings) to full fledged vampire (we only get slight glances at what these creatures might be like). Archaic elements of the vampire myth (holy water and garlic) are debunked by Toro and Hogan for their overly fantastic nature (really, what good would a clove of garlic do against a threat as powerful and deadly as a vampire. Bad breath check, vampire defense not likely.) These vampires are seen as a virus like cancer which takes over a body killing it from the inside out and changing it to fit the dark needs of the its twisted desires. The turned are truly just shells housing the virus. For all their changes, the traditional elements of the vampire myth that Toro and Hogan maintain are very dynamic in what they contribute to the plot.

The "Ancient One" which introduces the vampire strain into NY via the plane is brought into the US by a wealthy benefactor with a desire to live forever. His addition to the plot created a humanistic twist to the spreading plague. The idea that humanity aligns itself with a villain of such power is not uncommon, but Toro and Hogan place a unique spin in the often cliched convention.

Overall:
This is a good novel. The story flows well despite the small hiccups that pp up from time to time, and as far as first novels go, Del Toro has created a world that is fantastic and believable. This a a vampire that I could exist, not one that would only exist under the most fantastic conditions. If you like vampire novels and are tired of the harlequin drivel that has become the standard recently, pick up this book. It will renew your belief that vampires are truly a threat, not a gemstone skinned Emo whose smoldering eyes burn their overly adjectival descriptions into your brain and cause your stomach to churn in disappointment. (Damn you Meyer!) The Strain is what a good vampire novel should be without wasting time on the trivial. I am excited for book number two, The Fall, which drops sometime after the first of the year.

Cheers,
Price

Something New

So, I have been working on Haven fairly irregularly as of late. I seem to be hitting another of my "I want to write but can't find the time or motivation for it" phases. I really need to get this book under way. I like the ideas and the direction that I plan on taking it, but I seem to be suffering in the motivation area.

So, as a means of getting started again, I want to try and post a few other idea here. As I have been working on Haven, I have also been reading a lot of different books. The reading list currently stands at 9 books at the same time.

1. Strain by Guillermo Del Torro (this one has my primary focus right now)
2. Warbreaker by Brandon Sanderson (I love his world creation)
3. Lamb by Christopher Moore (his characters are so witty and rich)
4. 39 Clues book 4 (don't know the title, but they are a really interesting series)
5. The Story of Edger Sawtell (Hamlet retold, interesting)
6. Affinity Bridge (Steampunk meets zombies ... need I say more)
7. Mainspring by Jay Lake (another steampunk novel kind of slow, but interesting)
8. Hunger Games by Susan Collins (?)(a book recommended by Stephaie Meyer, whom i loath, but is actually quite interesting. She may not be able to write good literature, but at least she knows what is is when she reads it.)
9. Name of the Wind by Patric Rothfus (my second time through this piece and I am hooked again)

That is the current list, each of the books has something in it that intrigues me and has me hooked, some more than others. As I finish the books I want to try and post my thoughts and reviews. Maybe this will help me to move forward with my own projects. As it stands I am pretty much immobile where they are concerned.

cheers,
Pice

More Magic and some characters

So much for my attempt to post each month! Oh well I still have one resolution that is still in the running, to post more times this year than I did last year. I think I may be able to pull that one off. Way to set the bar high right ... right! Anyway. Here are a few more notes on the magic system that I have been working on. I have three more elements to outline and then I will start detailing more character stuff. I started Haven's and Jareth's profiles. Jareth is a newer character that I decided to add recently. Haven is modeled after on of my current students, Jordan Bowman, and she is seldom seen without her best friend ... Jareth. While I changes Jordan's name to Haven, I thought that Jareth was an interestingly unique name and it fit well into the book. Also, one you know Jareth, you understand that there is no other name which could work. He is as unique as his name, and to call him something like Steve or Jeff would be a disservice. Anyway, enough of my prattling here is the what I have for today's post. Read on if you even care.

SunStone: (Amber) Rarity Level 5 (Common)

· SunStone is a common mineral. Its power is centered in the manipulation of ones physical density and strength. SunStone is primarily a defensive power though, when used by a skilled warrior it can be a very useful tool for attack.

The markings for the SunStone are located on the back, traditionally between the two shoulder blades. The markings for the SunStone are unique as they depict the heavens—sun and planets—in their orbit. The central piece is a sun in the shape of a large gear, teeth that arc out from the edges like waves frozen in time and mid break. To the left of the sun, connected by arms that extend from the top of one smaller gear shaped planet to the next, sit the four smaller planets [Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars] while to the right of the sun sit the remaining four planets [Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune], similarly anchored to each other and the sun. The Sun, as the central piece is done using Amber, a deep yellow mineral, and the adjacent planets and arms are done using the same Iron laced ink as the gear in the FireStone markings. Planets are colored to replicate their physical counterparts, but the colors are derived from dyes and not power imbued elements.

The power derived from SunStone enables one to change their physical density and weight, increasing ones strength at the same time. The common name for someone who utilizes SunStone is Bruiser, as they tend to be more roughneck and thuggish. When tapping the SunStone’s power, the user’s size and shape will remain the same, thus enabling a person who weighs 150lbs to double and triple their power without physically looking any more imposing. Like all other mineral powers, SunStone draws its energy from the source, in this case the person’s weight. One drawback to the FireStone is the lessened agility that accompanies the greater density. The heavier one becomes the slower and more laborious their movements become as well. Though their strength increases, allowing them to continue to move, fight, etc. Their speed is diminished in direct relation to their greater size. Thus, a person who normally weighs 150 lbs, and increases their density to that of a person twice their size, would have the reflexes and agility to match the greater force pulling against their movements. While they would be able to easily overpower someone in a one on one fight, or possibly against larger numbers, because their attacks would have greater force upon connecting, their stamina would wane faster and any prolonged fight could potentially prove to be fatal. SunStone, as a physical power, is very exhausting. The longer it is used, the more draining it becomes, and the longer one needs to rest between uses.

Psychologically, there are drawbacks to SunStone as well. Often a Bruiser will feel a sudden sense of vertigo or lightness when they abruptly stop using the mineral. They forget that their bodies are no longer enhanced and they will often attempt tasks that normally would be impossible for anyone not enhanced by SunStone. Also, while the body may not feel the effects of a fight while SunStone is being used, the after affects will be seen and felt shortly after turning off the power. The true severity of cuts, bruises, breaks, etc. is highly noticeable.

Most people who choose to become a bruiser will simply use the power to toughen themselves sporadically, when the power is, forgetting it when not. But, there are select groups who will condition their body to SunStone’s effects. These men and women are typically employed in military or militia organizations, and are used for most hand to hand combat or the protection of important persons. Those who choose to condition their bodies in this way will spend months, and sometimes years, gradually increasing the density of their body to counter effects that would ordinarily be felt. Stamina and agility are often times less effected in these groups, and as warriors their services are highly sought after.

SunStone takes its name from Amber, a golden yellow mineral secreted from trees and hardened over time. While it is possible to use fresh amber in markings, the power transferred is not as great and the effects can be somewhat sporadic. The best amber comes from a monastery where monks harvest and cure the mineral over several centuries. When tapped, the SunStone will flare a bright yellow, the intensity of which can be momentarily blinding if looked into directly. It is rumored that this is one reason why the markings are located on a person’s back. Though the real reason lies in the story of Atlas carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

EarthStone: (Emerald) Rarity Level 3 (Common)

· EarthStone is a common mineral. Like FireStone, its powers are referred to as elemental because they enable the user to manipulate earth and water. EarthStone, as and elemental power, is a commonly sought power. It is often seen on farmers who will use the power to help in tending and harvesting their crops. The markings for EarthStone located around the wrists and forearms. Concentric bands of Iron, in the shape of gears, are placed around each wrist and halfway between wrist and elbow. Between these bands run in various patterns, interlacing and entwining with each other. Those people who use the EarthStone are often referred to as Tenders, a reference to the care they take in raising crops, cultivating and nourishing the ground they work, and ensuring there is enough food to last during droughts and cold seasons.

Using EarthStone’s power is very similar to using BloodStone. A focusing crystal is placed in a copper bracelet, the stone situated on the underside of the Tenders wrist, and is connected to a second bracelet worn around the forearm and connected by four leather thongs sewn together and attached to the bracers using copper wire. The metal bracelets draw the energies from the marking and the wires serve to channel that energy into the focusing crystal which releases the power in a concentrated beam. Experienced tenders will have their crystal set in an adjustable setting so that they can better control the breadth of the area affected by focusing the beam. EarthStone is a rare element in that its energy is released on a spectrum visible to the naked eye. Depending on the intensity of the power expended, the beam will range from a deep forest green to a pale sky blue.

Tenders are most commonly found in folk of a more earthen nature. Wood Nymphs and Tree Sprites especially. These groups tend to be much less confrontational and spend much of their time trying to correct the damage that is caused through dispute and urbanization. The EarthStone’s power is still quite impressive. Because it has the ability to rend the earth, change the flow of water, uproot plant life and rock, EarthStone is a valuable power used by underground groups who wish to hold meetings in locations that are untraceable. With enough tenders working together, one could open up an enormous meeting hall anywhere, underground, in the side of a mountain, in a grove of trees.

EarthStone pulls its power directly from the plant or rock source that is being manipulated. The larger the object, the more power that can be used. This power is directly related to the life force of the object being manipulated. So, while some objects (like rocks) have a very small and almost unnoticeable life force, other objects (such as aspen trees which have entire groves that derive from the roots of a single tree) have enormous amounts of energy flowing through them. When the Tender taps into this power they merely manipulate and direct it through their imagination. Tenders have to be careful not to push or stretch the energies of the object they are manipulating too far else they will kill or destroy it. Though objects can be enlarged, their growth is in direct relation to the amount of energy they put out. A Tender may use their power to help a row of beans grow fatter for harvest, but that growth, if forced on the first day of planting, or when the first shoots break through the ground would prove fruitless because the plant has not grown enough to sustain such rapid growth and the entire row would whither and die. Similarly, if a Tender attempted to increase a row of pebbles so that they formed a waist-high wall surrounding a field, the pebbles growth could only grow in relation to the amount of stored energy, pushed any farther and the stones will merely crumble to dust. With stones, the larger the object is pushed, the more fragile it becomes. On the other hand, the more compact the object is made the more durable and resilient, though it will not loose its weight. Bruisers will often carry stone weaponry that is crafted by an armorer who is also a skilled Tender.

EarthStone is made from refined Emeralds, and is a fairly common mineral to see among the poorer classes. Nobility have less use for it because they feel they can purchase anything they need. Thus those with EarthStone markings are commonly looked at as being common, unintelligent, laborers, etc.

PeasantStone: (Blue Star Sapphire) Rarely Level 9 (Rare)

· PeasantStone is very rare mineral because of the power it grants. Also, because it is a rare mineral it is illegal for anyone not of royal blood to have PeasantStone markings. Like each of the power minerals, PeasantStone counteracts the direct effects of another element, in this case KingStone. Primarily a defensive element, PeasantStone is used to shield a person’s mind and thoughts from being manipulated through the use of KingStone. The markings for PeasantStone are located on the back of the neck, between a person’s shoulder blades and hairline. The markings look like a series of gears (twelve to be precise, one for each of the elements, one for the person shielding their mind, and a final gear for the person being shielded against.) meticulously put together and perfectly tuned to never skip a tooth. Their teeth fit perfectly into each groove, and when the PeasantStone is being used, it looks as if the gears are actually moving; spinning in an attempt to draw closed some unseen barrier used to shield the mind. Each of the gears has a rune placed on it to identify the element it represents. The largest (central gear) is considered the peasant gear and it is the gear that seems to move first when PeasantStone is activated—this is the gear that starts all the other gears spinning. Because PeasantStone only works to shield the mind of its user, there are no additional accessories needed (gloves or bracers) to work its power, and like most of the other elements, PeasantStone draws its power from its host.

Because of its rarity, there is very little that is known about the PeasantStone. Several groups have tried to make synthetic stones that proved to be very detrimental. Only a true, naturally formed, blue star sapphire can be used.

Several groups throughout time have tried to subvert the ruling classes monopolizing of PeasantStone by having the markings placed on their members despite not being of royal blood. Within these groups would be a Keeper, the colloquial name for one who uses PeasantStone, who would be trusted with all of the group’s secrets. These fake markings were used as a means of concealing the Keeper, but as these groups began to spread their influence, their members were rounded up and sent to labor camps or executed for rebellion. Today, these splinter groups have to work in secret and their members, especially their Keepers and Speakers, are closely guarded.

As with all of the internal minerals, PeasantStone draws its power from the user. It differs in that the power comes from a person’s mental strength and their ability to focus on shielding their mind. Skilled Keepers are able to compartmentalize their thoughts so that part of their mind focuses on closing off their mind while the other deals with interactions and processes. Using PeasantStone can be a very draining process, especially when under attack from a Speaker.

ShadeStone: (Tanzanite) Rarity Level 8 (Moderate)

· ShadeStone is a moderately difficult mineral to procure. The mineral itself can only be harvested during a solar eclipse if it is to be used in a marking. Because of this restriction, ShadeStone is a highly sought after mineral. Large gathering parties will form before an eclipse in hopes that they will be able to quarry a few precious stones to sell at the market. When initially mined, the stone is reddish brown in color, and only through the refined process does it begin to take on its characteristic blue-violet hue.

ShadeStone is the only mineral to share its markings with another stone. ShadeStone is the polar mineral to SightStone, and like its sister mineral, ShadeStone markings are located around the eyes or the person using the mineral. The markings are comprised of two large gears that encircle each eye and several smaller gears which bridge the nose and connect the gears circling the eyes, looking very much like an odd pair of industrial eyeglasses. It is impossible for one person to use both ShadeStone and SightStone because their effects negate each other when used by the same person.

ShadeStone allows it’s used to conceal themselves as well as others from being seen by anyone using SightStone. It blocks both their visibility as well as any conversations that they may be having. In order to do this, the person using ShadeStone must concentrate on the people and the place which they are trying to conceal. The larger the group or the place, the more difficult it is to conceal and the more concentration it would take to successfully conceal. Like PeasantStone, and many of the other internal elements, ShadeStone derives its power from the person using the mineral. Because it is a mental and not a physical element, ShadeStone is more exhausting mentally to use. People who use ShadeStone are often referred to as a Hood, a reference to their ability to conceal themselves and others from Seekers (those who use SightStone).

People of a more criminal and stealthy disposition tend to be the type who prefer the use of ShadeStone. The markings, when powered glow a dark blue and will often cause the eyes and sockets to seem sunk and shaded. The effect is an ominous one. While ShadeStone can be used alone, it is most effective when coupled with a pair of lenses. The lenses are set into brass frames attached to a leather thong tied round the head. The lenses themselves can be adjusted and focused to enable a broader or more isolated area. Like the PeasantStone, the markings for ShadeStone move when the mineral is tapped. This is how a Hood focuses the lenses. Along the edge of each lens is placed a thin gear whose teeth match those of a small gear located inside the eye marking, just above the eyebrow. When the mineral is tapped and the eye markings begin to spin, the lenses will adjust to meet the Hood’s desired intensity. Without the lenses to help focus and direct the ShadeStone’s power, the Hood can still use the mineral, but the effects are much less predictable and easy to control. Often, untamed use of ShadeStone will cause the Hood to tire quickly and gaps to form in the shield extended from their power. Seekers using focusing lenses to help control their SightStone can easily pierce the shield of an untamed/focused Hood.

KingStone: (Lolite) Rarity Level 10 (Rare)

· KingStone is the rarest of all the minerals. Like PeasantStone, KingStone can only be used by those of royal blood/heritage. It is most popular among this group because of the power it grants. Those who use KingStone are referred to as Speakers, and they are given the ability to influence and manipulate the minds of those around them. Influence and manipulate are key terms in understanding the power behind KingStone. Speakers cannot control another person’s actions through the use of KingStone; they can only place suggestions into another person’s mind. They can manipulate a person’s emotions by fueling or calming certain feelings so that one is more agreeable to the suggested action. For example, a Speaker may manipulate a person’s sense of fear so that they are less likely to rise up in rebellion or become argumentative. Speakers can influence thoughts and actions by placing suggestions into the consciousness of another person, causing them to doubt their choices or even what they though to be true. Many battles have been won and waged over the use of KingStone.

The use of KingStone is difficult to detect when used by a skilled Speaker. Because Speakers are using their power to touch the consciousness of another person, they must be careful of how strongly they push. Too much influencing and the consciousness being manipulated will reject the suggestions and begin to question where the thoughts and impression are originating. Because a person’s free will cannot be taken away, the person being influenced will always have their choice to accept of reject what is being placed in their mind. KingStone is countered by the use of its counter element, PeasantStone. As a shield against manipulation, Royalty (or those in high positions of power will often have a Keeper (someone who has PeasantStone markings) in their retinue to shield from a Speaker. One unique aspect associated with the KingStone is the power to communicate without speaking (a one-way telepathy of sorts). Because KingStone allows the user to place thoughts inside someone’s mind, it also them to communicate with that person as well. This communication can come in both verbal and pictorial ways.

The markings for KingStone are some of the more austere. People who use KingStone are easily recognizable because the mineral used in the markings can vary in color depending on the purity. Typically, the stone is a medium color purple (average grade lolite), but can range from a very light, almost grey, color to a deep violet. The darker the color the more pure the mineral and the more effective the power granted the Speaker. KingStone marking are also more recognizable because of their location. The markings begin on the jaw, just below the bottom lip and extend downward along the jaw line and onto the neck in a roughly triangular shape. The markings for KingStone are comprised of interlacing lines all surrounding a central gear located on the throat in roughly the same place as the Adam’s Apple on a male. Like PeasantStone and ShadeStone the markings will move when KingStone is tapped, thought movement is more hypnotic and subtle. With KingStone it is not the gear the rotates but the interlacing lines that vacillate, The motion is typically compared to waves (sound or ocean) and the effect varies in intensity depending on how strong or soft the Speaker pushes on the emotions or thoughts of their target.

MoonStone: (Pearl) Rarity Level 6 (Moderate)

·

DeathStone: (Obsidian) Rarity Level 2 (Common)

·

SightStone: (Diamond) Rarity Level 7 (Moderate)

·

Characters

Haven: (based on Jordan Bowman student @ AFHS) Haven is 18 years old, only child, mild case of synesthesia, Halfling

· Haven has just turned 18, she is a senior in H.S., popular among the artistic crowd. Haven sings in a garage band called Hexeva, an alternative Goth-Metal band.

· Haven is of average height, with a petite build, medium length curly dark-brown hair. She is very pale in complexion, almost porcelain in nature. Her most distinguishing characteristics are her eyes, a rich warm amber color when she is happy and content, icy silver when she is upset or angry.

· Haven is unique. She is an only child, but events from before she was born contribute to her unique characteristics. Haven is a Halfling. Before Haven was born, Her parents (Randall and Mikelia) were involved in a serious car accident that left both Haven and her mother fighting for their lives. Having just entered her 3^rd trimester, the doctors were not optimistic about either person’s survival. While she and her mother were in surgery, Haven’s father was waiting in the father’s room praying for a miracle.

· The miracle that Haven’s father was praying for appeared in the form of a ragged looking, musty smelling, knarled & bent stranger. This stranger promised to save Haven and Mikelia so long as the father would repay the debt when called to. The agreement is sealed by a nod and a handshake, and the little man turns to walk away, vanishing in the process.

· Ludor is the creature who struck the deal with Haven’s father and he is the Fae who attempts to heal Haven and Mikelia. A newly marked healer, Ludor is not quite as skilled in the use of BloodStone as he professes. In attempting to heal Haven, he mistakenly uses the wrong cantrips and focuses his lenses too strongly. The result is that Ludor transfers aspects of his Fae nature to Haven. Her alabaster/porcelain skin, amber eyes, heightened sensitivity to her environment.

· Perhaps the most intriguing change that Ludor prompted through healing Haven is her mild case of synesthesia, a neurological disorder in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway. In other words, one sensory experience triggers a secondary involuntary experience from a different sense. In the case of Haven, her synesthesia manifests itself as an acute awareness of sounds and textures. High, sharp, or piercing sounds trigger a physical pain similar to being stabbed by a needle or cut by a knife, while low, soothing, mellow sounds are billowy and soft life cotton batting or a fluffy pillow. In her music Haven uses this heightened sense to help her “feel” what is happening to her audience and fellow band mates. She is able to tell, based solely on how the sounds are mixing and the effect it has on her physically, whether everyone is in sync and the crowd is enjoying the show. The other aspect of Haven’s synesthesia and Halfling nature is that she expresses laughter through tears. Haven is very sensitive about this “condition” and tries very hard to keep others from knowing about it. Only her closes friends see this side of Haven un-guarded. Jareth is Haven’s single most trusted friend. When Haven gets wound up, typically it is Jareth who would traditionally be one to calm her down again.

Jareth Sampson: (Based on a student by the same name @ AFHS)

· Jareth is 17, almost 18, he is Haven’s best friend, and has been since they were children. Separated by three weeks difference in age, their relationship has always been pure friendship. Through their friendship, Jareth has always suspected that there was something different about Haven, something out of the ordinary. For all her average traits, her abnormalities cannot be ignored. Whenever he discusses, or begins to discuss this with Haven she immediately changes the subject.

· Jareth is slightly overweight, with shoulder length brown hair that is typically pulled back into a pony tail. His favorite color is black, and he typically wears baggy black denim jeans, a black graphic tee, and black canvas Converse All Stars. The most common variation in his wardrobe comes in the form of some stylish black steel-toed work boots.

· Jareth, by all accounts is an average teenager, he has not been touched by the Fae (to his knowledge). Nor has he met one (again to his knowledge). He is the lead sound tech for Haven’s band, and it is his van that they use to cart their gear from one gig to the next. Jareth’s garage is also the main location for practices and hanging out.

· When Haven disappears Jareth is the one person who knows why she is gone. Because he is her best friend, he is the one that Tamm goes to at Haven’s request. Jareth, over the course of this story is the link between the analogue (human) and the Fae realm. His position

As always, any thoughts would be appreciated (though I do not anticipate that anyone will actually read this. It is more for my own edification and preservation seeing as how I cannot seem to hold onto any small storage device long enough to fill it. Multiple copies are saved everywhere!

Cheers,

My College Experience

I am attempting to start a game of Gotcha (also referred to as assassins) at the school where I work. Obviously, due to school violence issues we are taking a much less aggressive approach to the game. I remember playing this when I was in High School and the variety of stories that came out of the game live on in my memory like cobwebs in an unused attic. Yes, it is true, my head is empty. Anyway, I revisited the game several years after I graduated, while attending college, and here is a story recounting one of the experiences I had while playing the game. If you are interested in hosting or playing your own game of assassins here is a link to a website where you can set up your own game or search for possible games being played in your area.

Cheers,
Price

My College Story:

The day was warm, the sky blue, the air crisp. Fall had officially begun, but the season had not quite accepted the change from lazy summer evenings to busy autumn afternoons. Class had been in session for about two weeks, and assignments were passing hands daily—from student to staff and back again in an endless progression of grades and revisions. While attempting to fill the space between classes, a larger group of students gathered together and began a game of Gotcha—a version of elimination tag where each person playing has the name of another person in the group. The object of the game is to systematically eliminate each person until only one player remains.

Our game had been running for roughly a week, and I had personally eliminated three participants in that time. By entering and exiting my apartment through a ground floor window at the back of the apartment building, I felt fairly confident that I was safe from any attacker who was trying to monitor my movements. This game, if nothing else, had filled me with a very healthy sense of paranoia. There were a few safe zones, classrooms, work, church, and home, where elimination could not take place. I had plotted the best rout for getting to each location while maintaining the least amount of visibility possible. In some cases it meant that I had to leave for class 20-30 minutes early to make it there on time.

I plotted my eliminations meticulously, using the college’s student directory (aka the StalkerNet) to find their apartment address, class schedule, and in some rare cases pictures of the target. I would align their schedule and mine to make sure I knew the quickest rout to where they would be throughout the day. I moved through crowds like a breath of air, silent and imperceptible. There are, at times, advantages to being small in stature.

I was tailing my fourth target, intent on learning her “path of safety” before making an attempt at eliminating per prematurely. Always cautious, I would check my surroundings for anyone who looked suspicious of doing as I was—scouting for the best moment to make my move. In the corner of the room was a gentleman I had seen several times earlier in the day. Since this was a small college, it was not uncommon to run into the same people from time to time, but his presence seemed too calculated to be chance.

Perspiration began to bead on my forehead and the hairs on the back of my neck began to tingle a warning. This guy was going to try and make his move; in my gut I knew he was stalking me as I stalked my target. Two birds with one stone, this guy was good. In my mind I was wondered how long he had been watching my movements. Had he looked me up on the StalkerNet as well? Of course he had. As we passed, him sitting casually in a chair some forty feet from where I passed, our eyes met and he winked. The game was afoot and I knew it. My target would have to wait for another day; I needed to escape and time was not in my favor.

In a fraction of a second I needed to decide which of four possible exits would be my best option:
• Exit number one was a stairwell that would take me to the ground level where I could leave from the closest set of doors and race across the quad, hoping to loose my pursuer in the crowd. Unfortunately, this was not an exceptionally busy time of day and the typical throng of students was replaced by a few stragglers working their way home at the end of class.
• Exit number two required me to ascend the same set of stairs to the top floor, and either back track through the building to a service stairwell at the opposite end of the building or dodge into an unused classroom and hope to avoid detection while hiding under a desk or behind a podium. This option was the least desirable because it either left me trapped in a room where my only exit was blocked by my pursuer, or carelessly careening down halls and through doorways, making enough racket to raise the dead.
• Exit number three would require me to stay on the same level and quickly make my way to a service elevator located at the far end of the building which could only be accessed by cleaning crew employees (which I just happened to be)! While this option seemed to be the safest in theory because it placed me in a position where my tracker could not follow, even if he wanted to, it also left me exposed to attack far too long. The elevator was located in hall way locked off to anyone save building employees. I would have to unlock the door before I could make my way to safety, needlessly using up precious seconds that could be the difference between survival and elimination.
• Exit number four was by far the most risky, but potentially the safest. Because I worked on the late night cleaning crew, I was aware of a few rooms in the building that were never, if ever, used. One of these rooms just happened to be right off the entrance a women’s room located on the bottom floor of the building; it had a window, roughly three feet tall by four feet wide, set about six feet off the ground. If I could make it to that window, I could get away with relative ease. In order to make my way to this room undetected I would have to descend one of two stairwells, backtrack through a bowling alley/arcade, and enter the restrooms at the back of the food court. A race that would leave me exposed even longer than option number three as the distance to safety was much greater.

Typically this latter route might be thought of as an inescapable trap like the classroom, and under normal circumstances I would never have considered it as an option, but desperate times left me no choice. I knew option four, as risky as it was, served the best possibility for escape. There were no exits close enough to the window that my pursuer could catch me in time, even if he discovered immediately that I had exited through a window in an unused women’s restroom. The second door had a lock on it that would provide me time to make my escape and I could simply unlock it again that night as I cleaned. The plan was perfect despite its flaws.

No time to worry about the outcome, in two short strides I cleared the corner and the chase was on. If this kid was as good as I assumed he was, he would not simply jump up and start chasing me recklessly through the building. He would make sure I was aware of his presence first, and then the chase would begin. This knowledge bought me a few seconds of time to change aspects of my appearance. Fortunately, since I was not in class that day, I had left my backpack at home, opting instead to wear a light jacket and a stocking cap. I pulled the cap from my head, shoved it in my back pocket, stripped off my jacket, flipped it inside-out, and tied it around my waist. It wasn’t the perfect disguise, but hopefully it would buy me a few more precious seconds to lengthen my lead and make my escape.

Less than ten feet ahead of me sat the first stairwell, the second set of stairs situated around a corner roughly thirty feet ahead of me and on the opposite side of the room I was passing through. The first stairwell had the advantage of doors at both the top and bottom which were held open with simple wooden wedges. The second stairwell was much too exposed and the risk of early detection was much too great. Quickening my pace, I passed through the first doorway, kicking the doorstop out of the way as I passed. The door began to slowly close on its spring hinges. I could only hope that it would close fast enough to either obstruct my pursuer or alert me to his approach. Near the bottom of the stairs I heard the first door begin to catch and then stop before being thrust open again. Hurried feet began to slap against the stairs indicating that the chase had officially begun. I darted through the second door, again kicking the door stop free to hinder pursuit.

Had my actions been enough to slow this chase? The entrance to the bowling alley/arcade stood roughly one hundred feet away, hidden behind a large planter filled with tall green stalks of various silken plants and Ficus trees. I ran for the doorway, pushing my way past a few people who happened to move into my path unaware of my flight. Instead of making my way around the planter’s box, I threw caution ahead and leapt over the box and through the silken fauna, rough and exposed wires raking against my arms. Behind me I heard the sounds of my pursuer pushing his way past the same people; he was much closer than I would have preferred and I needed to make an adjustment to my escape plan. While the bathroom still held the best chance for escape, fleeing through the open food court and arcade would not be advisable. Instead, upon entering the bowling ally I made my way down the side of the lanes and into the service area where the machinery sits. Hydraulic arms shifted up and down, back and forth, across my path as I made my way to a door that would deposit me in the exact hallway I needed, roughly fifty feet from the women’s room and safety.

As luck would have it, the bowling ally attendant stopped the kid chasing me from entering the backroom as I had. Were he a little quicker, I would have been stopped too. His shouts and curses pushed the adrenaline coursing through my veins to surge even more violently. A sudden burst of speed overtook me and I crashed through the backdoor, barely getting it open in time to keep the door jam from exploding outward like in so many Hollywood films. I knew I was safe, the chase was over and I could casually make my way home to begin planning a new defensive strategy. I knew what my pursuer looked like now and I would be better prepared when next we met. I would need to change my routes, adjust my travel schedule, be less consistent in when I left my apartment and from which direction I went to and from class. I would blend in and become a shadow. If I could survive this, I could survive any attempt at elimination. My instincts were primed; I was as good or better than any secret agent employed by our government. For a moment I thought about changing my major to International Spy. How cool would that be! Think of all the dates I would get then!

Reaching for the door to the women’s room I took one last look down the hallway. At the far end stood the kid who had pursued me, perspiration beginning to leave marks below his collar and armpits. In his hand he held my jacket. Apparently I had lost it during my flight, maybe snagged on a branch as I hurdled carelessly through the planter’s box. I gave him a saucy “maybe next time” grin, winked, and tugged on the door to freedom.

Something hard and cool pressed against my chest; looking forward I found myself staring into the crystal blue eyes of Jody, my co-worker from the nighttime cleaning crew. I knew she was part of the game, and earlier we had discussed exit strategies for several of the buildings on campus, but I never suspected her of such nefarious deceit. I looked down at the spoon pressed against my sternum and in a soft voice, as if from a great distance, I heard her say …

… “Gotcha.”