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 Posted: Sun Nov 21, 2004 10:51 pm
Nifty pic of pang coming soon.
This is the private journal and ramblings of the great Madame pangolin, the mastermind behind Demon Spawn and the keeper of Delphic Tides.
Post in here without her permission and she'll eat your first born.
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Posted: Mon Nov 22, 2004 12:56 pm
A note to all readers... anything in Italics is the written word. Things in normal font are actions and bold type is actual speach.
Out of character posts and comments are allowed at any and all times. Please use the (( )) format we are all so aware of. Just don't be insulted when I go back and delete them all later. xd
In character posts are also allowed, such as leaving stuff at my door... etc. If it somehow interrupts what I was doing, then I'll delete it. This is why we put these in the guild, so as to have that exact power. Interruptions are fixeable. ^^
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Nov 30, 2004 9:49 am
Dear Diary,
Alright, so my therapist said to keep a journal, stupid therapist. See if I ever go back to her again. I hate these things. No offense little leather bound book, but I really do hate them. I just don't think my English is good enough, even though it is my first language. Eh, whatever.
Where to start. The beginning never hurt, but that part is boring. So lets skip ahead.
Who is pangolin...
Hmmm, who am I? And why am I writing everything I think? Must be why we need a therapist in the first place. What was my topic anyway?
pangolin pulls out the doctors note from her therapy session and speaks aloud as she reads it. Entry one, who are you? Write an entry about yourself as if you were meeting a complete stranger who was blind.
Huh, this must be so she can psychoanalyze my self perception. Ah well, here we go. Her pen returned to the pages.
Well, who is pangolin? Pangolin likes to be referred to as madame pangolin even though she technically holds no position of any sort of power. It's really the only title a person can give themselves. I'm an elf of sorts. Not really an elf, my mother was an elf. Well, I've got the age of an elf if nothing else, and my ears are a bit pointier than the average human. Though they aren't big enough to be real elf ears, and they don't stick up like they should, though my mother used to glue them to my head. My mother says I look a lot like my father, though I've never met him. He didn't, however, have purple hair. My mother says that's the demon in me. I've never been sure if she meant literally or figuratively. And what the purple hair has to do with demons I've never figured out. So it's a bit of an anomoly... anomaly... anomely... whatever.
Green eyes, though since I'm talking to a blind person I suppose colors are not all that important. I wonder if my therapist realized the oddity of describing myself to a blind person who probably has no idea what green or blue or purple are.
Anyhow, I'm not short and not tall, not fat and not too skinny. Alright, I'm not skinny at all. But I'm still not fat. She tapped her pen on the paper wondering if the therapist really needed to know she had a tail, then decided it wasn't really pertinent yet. Her tail, was her buisness. That's it I suppose, oh, I have a scar on my face, crescent shaped. I got it when I was about 5 when my mother tried to take out my eye but missed. I wasn't too keen on having it removed at the time.
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Posted: Tue Nov 30, 2004 10:16 am
Alright Diary I'm back,
Stupid therapist, she mumbled didn't say a damn thing about my last entry, just nodded as she read, who does she think she is? Making me write out this crap and then not telling me anything about it... alright... stop talking to yourself. pangolin sat back in her chair staring at the book content in the thought that she no longer seemed as crazy if she kept herself from speaking out loud when no one was around.
She read the next note, Entry two, Describe a day in the life of pangolin. Humph, she snickered, yesterday was as good as any day to describe.
I wake up in the morning, though oftentimes it is already the afternoon. I get up and wander around my place searching for something that could be considered food. More than likely there isn't anything, but you never know, I can get lucky. If there is nothing I search for something that could be considered money. Lately any work I do has been paid in trade goods, but not actual monetary funds, so I go to the market I think I'll leave out the part about it being the black market... that's probably a good idea, she thought as she paused, and sell what I can, then I wonder to the nearest food market, preferably a farmers market if there is one around and haggle for my food. Haggle...steal... it's all the same in the end right? Then with food in my stomach and mayhaps a bit to take home, I go home and open shop. I'm a seer, so that usually means I sit around for a long time doing nothing. Play a little tarot or ouiji board. Well, I don't actually play with them, I hone my skills. I'll also take some time to read runes or study star charts. Most people... especially other seers find most of what I do disturbing, and yes I do dabble in the darker arts and often find myself with a customer attempting to channel spirits. Depending on how the day goes I'll take whatever change I can find and head over to one of the near by pubs. And have a few nice strong drinks to ease the mind and dispell whatever stress has come by me on that particular day. I also find that nice crowded places dispells any demons that might be following me around. Which happens to be one of the consequences of doing my sort of work.
Wow I sound like an alcoholic... do I really go out every night? She sat back again thinking... well, she'd gone out every night this week. And that girl... that red head with one eye. There had been something familiar with her, and not only that, something wrong with her. But she'd been too drunk to really figure it out. Pangolin looked back at her entry and decided better of some of what she'd wrote. She erased most of it and decided to tell the therapist she had simply... forgotten to finish the entry.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2004 10:51 pm
pangolin wandered the streets. She had decided the shrink was no good for her. That and she had run out of gold, buisness was slow at the shop and she would need quite a few more clients if she wanted to keep eating on a regular basis. Though it wasn't just a lack of clients. After three bad seance's she just didn't feel up to it. The stars were not aligning in her favor or something. It was too hard to concentrate on her art when she constantly wondered what had happened to the people that had so unexpectedly gotten up and left, not to mention the huge fire she had had to put out.
The people in the browstone next door had been none too happy to see smoke billowing out her side window. And had promptly called the police. They knew her address well... too well. The same snotty sheriff had shown up to talk to her again with that look of contempt. Threatened to arrest her for something or other, but she wasn't doing anything illegal really. There were no written Gaia rules about calling on the dead... not that she had seen anyway.
With a heavy sigh she just kept wandering and realized she had wandered into avatar talk... ARRRG!!! How do I end up in these places? So many shallow people judging whether or not their friends are shallower than themselves... She made a quick retreat through commerce, then out of Barton. Through the snow towards the reclamation facility... but instead she stopped in the slowly melting snow by the small gazebo in Barton's west field. She sat on the frozen bench watching her breath make small ripple clouds in the air. She knew she should head back to the shopping district where she lived, but for a moment, all she wanted was to sit in the cold, look at ice crystals... and simply be.
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Posted: Fri Feb 04, 2005 12:58 pm
-reserved for all the posts I've been making in the actual thread. xD-
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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