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All About Val:

Currently Playing:
PS4: Dragon Quest: Echoes of an Elusive Age

Currently Reading:

My b-day is April 10th.

I love reading. My favorite subjects are sci-fi, steampunk, fantasy and comedy. I especially love mythology related things.

Stained glass is also something I really love! It's always so striking, with the contrast of the dark lines and the bright colors and the light bleeding through. <3

I adore wings. Just about any type of them always gives me warm fuzzies to see, although dragon, bird/angelic, and dragonfly are my favorites. I also love when there are multiple pairs of each, dragonfly already having that second set.

I love to draw, though I'm not very good, and I don't really do it often at all anymore.
I love Japanese architecture, and I especially love kimonos. <3
My favorite season is Autumn. The cooler weather, the lack of bugs, and the beautiful colors make it just perfect for me.
I love anime, cartoons, and graphic novels from any country.
I love watching movies (both animated and live action) and playing video games, as well.
I adore listening to music. I have an eclectic playlist, so it's hard to list every genre I like. Pretty much the only things I can say for sure I don't like are rap and screamo/death metal.

Western Zodiac: Aries / The Ram
Chinese Zodiac: Snake (2013 was a Snake year!)
Celtic Zodiac: The Alder tree

Fav. Colors:

Fav. Animals:
Cat*Orca (Killer Whale)*Fox*Red Panda

Fav. Mythical Creatures:
Dragons! <3*Phoenix*Harpy*Pegasus*Naga*Mermaid

My Favorite Poems

By William Ernest Henley; 1849-1903

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.

Charge of the Light Brigade
By Alfred Lord Tennyson; 1809-1892

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
`Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
`Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

There Will Come Soft Rains (War Time)
By Sara Teasdale; 1884-1933

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.