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Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2009 10:19 pm
Nah, that's not the title of my epic new epic! That's just a place holder, so I remember to do it tomorrow! I wanted to write a story with my irrationally favorite character, Poem. Ever since page seven, I've been waiting for her spot in the limelight, well, I'm gonna give it to her dammit!! crying So, yeah, my story will take place before the Group even entered, but not too long before, she's grown up and everything. I expect Crimson and Wind to be in it too, ya know. I'm still not sure where I'm gonna go, but like I said, I'm doing all this junk tomorrow! Planning tonight!! the roughest of sketches. It's really just a Chinese junk sitting on top of two spades. So...yea...More for Buttan's benefit XD Google it if you need to!
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Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 8:16 pm
well we all have our favorite characters and yes we can go back and go and do more of them. I want more crimson... and of course michi and myself wink ^_^
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Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 10:41 pm
I did an intro!! I really don't like posting on Gaia because the TAB button doesn't affect the typography...but yeah...
POEM!
“Alrighty, Miss Ballou. This here Osprey MV is the best in desert vehicles.” The lot salesman spoke with emphasis on ‘HI’ in ‘vehicles’. He was real country folk.
The plain golden yellow landscape spoke to Poem Ballou like no other place. Buying this ship would set her free of all of the troubles she had in her large village. The buildings always blocked the horizon; nobody could see the beauty of the land around them. Poem could be called a romanticist, if you’d like. She always thought sailing the great Sand was the best life a person could dream of. Her home country was just that: sand. There was practically no water anywhere other than the Border States or deep underground. Myranas, her country, had lost its water over time; evaporating, but never falling back down; the only place in the world to do that. Mostly all of its former residents left for a more hospitable environment, those who did stay, packed themselves along the shoreline; the Border States; some say that nomadic tribes still live out in the Sand. But Poem had dreams of sailing out onto the sandy ocean to explore what was lost to her people long ago. It got her all giddy and what not.
“Thank you so much Mister Rossi! I’ll be sure to take good care of ‘er!” She shook the plump man’s hand excitedly. She was bout to start her own ‘epic adventure’, as she called it. Mister Rossi’s hand was sweating something fierce. She wiped her hand on Mister Rossi’s dog, who seemed to appreciate the wet. “I gotta ask though, young lady, what’re you gonna call her?” Mister Rossi asked
“Well, sir, I was thinking on naming her the Ambassador. Seeing as how my crew and I’d be the first ones to sail the Sand, we want our ship to tell our purpose.” Poem smiled, proud of herself.
“That’s a fine idea, Miss.” He slapped her back and chuckled.
Poem paid for her ship; it didn’t cost much, it was an old model. The Osprey MV was made up of layers of balsa wood, a light flexible wood. The ship needed to be able to pick up speed quickly, but it had no need to be extremely strong. Out on the Sand, the wind and other boats were the only troubles. The ship’s spades* were in good condition, as was the rest of the boat. On board, Poem pictured herself sailing on the golden ocean, the balsa creaked under her feet as she wandered dreamily. “Joseph! Joseph come look!” Poem called over the starboard side of the ship.
A young man around Poem’s age bounded up the plank and onto the ship. Joseph Herring was a tall dark skinned man who fancied himself Poem’s fiancé. Everyone in the village figured it to be true, but no rings ever came across either one’s fingers and that was okay by them. They never knew themselves to be traditional lovers anyhow. They loved each other, nobody needed to tell them. They looked out to the Sand and kissed; they finally caught up with their dreams.
cheesy endings galore!!! I'm sleepy...gimme a break!
*The ships in my fictional country sail on sand, so I pictured a boat, kind of..., on top of ice skate blades...so yeah. I wanna doodle it, to make more sense...
This came out soooooo off track, but I"m proud of it and I still have tons of ideas, so that's good!! Hope ya'll like it 3nodding
And in case you needed it...Ballou is pronounced (Bal-oh) short 'a' 3nodding
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Posted: Sat Apr 11, 2009 11:53 am
It turns out that starting an Osprey MV is a lot harder than starting a water based ship. Poem and Joseph sat in the ship lot for hours before a good strong wind finally picked up. They quickly gathered up all of their supplies and boarded the boat. They would sail alone, with no other crew to accompany them. That was very dangerous, considering where they were headed. Joseph covered his face from the drifting sand as he did a last check of the ship’s guns and sails. He gave Poem the thumbs up. Neither dared to talk; too much sand. Poem yanked the main sail rope and it fluttered down in a jumble of bamboo. The wind automatically caught it and the boat started to lurch forward. Land take-offs were always rough; even the most skilled captain had rocky starts. The balsa groaned under the pressure of getting moving. Joseph attached himself to a harness and swung over the side with planks of balsa and a tube of stic. He leaped over the edge of the boat and hung off its side. He prepared himself to replace any of the wood that came off the ship.
Poem clutched her hat in one hand and controlled the rudder sail with the other. The rudder flapped wildly for a moment, but Poem quickly got it under control. Rudder master was usually reserved for a man, but Poem handled it better than any man could have done. The wind was quickly becoming a storm; she would have to turn on the turbines early in order to break through it. She tied the rudder down and slowly made her way below deck. Joseph was hanging on to a porthole by the engine room. His face was completely covered; goggles, bandana, mask, all covered in sand. She tapped on the glass, telling him to come on board. When he was no longer visible Poem grabbed a lever next to some other mechanical workings in the ship. There was no light below deck, only light coming in from the portholes. The ship was turned off. The big lever she was pulling would turn everything on, including the propulsion turbines. The lever squealed as Poem yanked it a final time. The lights below deck activated and the buttons and controls whirred. The turbine engines hummed to life and as more wind passed through them, they got louder and louder. When it reached a steady noise level Poem released the lever, expelling the air in a sonic boom. She heard some of the wood strip, but that was normal for early ignition. She wrapped herself up with blankets and tied bandanas around her face. She waddled her way topside to see what was about to happen.
A wall of sand hit her face, she only felt it slightly through her layers. She wrapped her arms around the front mast and watched as the storm finished with a magnificent sweep of air and sand. The ship lurched faster as soon as it broke free, like a dog released from a tugging leash. This is what she lived for, what she dreamed of. But, of course, someone always had to ruin her fun.
“Uh, Poem...what are you doing?” Joseph asked. He looked at her through his sand covered goggles. Her hair was completely messed up and she hadn’t noticed it, but her legs were wrapped around the mast as well. “You look like a frightened cat.” He started to laugh. Poem looked herself over and dropped from the mast. Joseph had been standing, attached to the main mast. She shed her blankets and tore off her mask. “The Sand and I were having a romantic moment, thank you very much! I might have gotten a little over excited is all.” Poem explained. Her eye twitched, trying to get sand out.
Joseph continued to laugh. Poem went below deck to turn off the turbines. The wind was strong enough now to keep up their momentum, but not create a storm. The ship slowed slightly, to a more reasonable speed. The Sand was beautiful, golden yellow for as far as the eye could see. Turned around and saw her village getting smaller and smaller; even the enormous buildings didn’t cover the sun anymore.
“Ya know, sometimes I think you love the Sand more than you do me.” Joseph said jokingly.
“Well, you know that’s not true. I can’t have sand as a first mate.” She stroked his chin and laughed as she walked below deck. “Could you repair the balsa for me, dear? Thanks!” She disappeared down the steps.
“Yes, Captain Ballou.” Joseph smirked as he jumped over the side of the ship.
eh...I'll take it! I wasn't really sure how to capture that moment when the Ambassador broke free from the storm.
I refer to a "tube of stic". Stic is pretty much the only thing that holds the ship together. Like how in the 1700's they used tar, well Poem uses stic.
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