Here we go again.

"Rhia, wait!"
Carl ran through the London cobblestone streets as quickly as he could, sweater becoming heavy in the rain.
"Please, Rhia!"
It was useless. Even in the urban surroundings, Rhia was still an elf, and still faster and smarter than a human. Then again, there were always the little bits of luck that gave the underdog an advantage.
Rhia stumbled over a stray cat that had chosen just the right moment to run across the street. She tried to regain her footing, but wet cobblestone didn't give the best foothold, and she crashed to the ground. Carl came up beside her just as she got back to her feet and grabbed her arm tightly.
"Listen to me, Rhia.. You don't know if this is a trap or not!"
She spun around to face him, jerking her arm free of his grasp. Her eyes were bright with rage and a mother's worry. "My son may be alive! I can't just ignore a lead I've been waiting for for six years!"
"I'm not asking you to ignore it, just let me check it out before you go rushing in, guns blazing.." he said, hands lifted in front of him, as if asking her to calm down.
It seemed to work, the fire in her eyes dimming as she looked away. "You may be a great detective, Carl, but what if by the time you decide this lead is solid, Seth's already gone, or dead? I can take care of myself, trust me. Humans could never keep a hold of me for long."
"Rhia-"
But she was through discussing things. As he began again, she turned around and kept walking. Carl sighed, giving up trying to convince her.
"Be safe, lady. May God be with you on this one.."

Long Hike

I'm starting to ponder some day, when I can afford to take a year out of my life, to walk the Great Wall. I guess the thoughts started up when I saw a program on tv about Beijing, and it was mentioned that there were actually people who'd walked the whole wall, and that the first one did it in three years. I did some figuring today, and this is what I came up with:
The Wall is 4163 miles long, very steep in some places, with a lot of steps, many of them taller than what most people are used to. This means, it is quite a hike. Now, if I want to really do this in a year, that being 365 days, it would mean walking approx. 11.4 miles a day. The average walkathon is 10k, or around 6 miles. That means I'd be walking almost two walkathons a day, and not on simple flat or slightly hilly ground, but across steps, steep climbs and decents, and with a pack on. I'd be stopping whenever I came to a village, town, or city to stock up on food and water and possibly lodge. It definitely wouldn't be easy, and I certainly couldn't just drop myself there right now and start walking, not in my shape. The average person blisters after ten or twelve miles in a day, which would slow you down even more. However, if one was to train...
The Appalachian trail is 2160 miles, with much the same sort of conditions, maybe even harder. Of course, this would mean taking six months out of my life to do that as well.. But anyway, the Trail is more than half the distance of the Wall, and if I could complete that without seriously hurting myself, within about seven months, it would be a good indication of being able to walk the Wall.
Something else I realized is that I could keep writing while I do it, too. And what a place to write, in the area where Rhia spent much of her earlier days, and continued to come back to time and time again. I wouldn't be carrying a laptop, but notebooks. As I fill a notebook, I mail it home once I get to a city. And if need be, I can buy paper in a city when I reach one. It would really be quite the expedition, and what an accomplishment to add to one's life story. I'm not sure if I'd do it with someone, or if I'd want to do it alone. I guess that will have to wait to see where I am in life when (if) I do decide to do it.
Here's a way to look at it more realistically - I sleep roughly six hours a night, which leaves eighteen hours in the day. Altogether, save about an hour for eating, and an hour or two for rest. That leaves fourteen hours, which in turn leaves approx. an hour and a half for each mile. Thinking about it that way, it doesn't seem all that difficult. The hardest part is walking for fourteen hours straight day after day. Would kind of give you an idea of what the people a long time ago went through, and would give me an idea of what Rhia went through her whole life.

Egh

Not much to say, and I won't be back again until Monday. Hopefully by then I'll have something in mind. I did get an awesome image of Seth in my mind, today, though. Happened while watching a comedy routine. The comic mentioned the fact that in the days when women had dowries and what not, the men were wearing make-up, wigs, and high-heels. Right away, I got this image of Seth in some old victorian outfit - breeches, puffy shirt with the cool droopy cuffs and wide v-neck, boots with the thick soles and clog heels, with pale make-up, dark eye-liner, with his hair partially pulled back in a pony-tail, the bangs hanging down. It was a wow moment @-@ Very Gackt, perhaps..

Another Creative Frustration Outlet

The humidity was thick that day. Not even the gentle rain that clung to his hair eased that feeling of swimming through the air. Yet, she couldn't help but think the gray skies and grim surroundings of recent ruins made his eyes even bluer. Mara lowered her gaze to the burnt ground. He was her kidnapper, the one holding her hostage, but she couldn't help feeling sorry for him.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem she could say the same for him. She sat huddled against a pile of rubble, the ground slowly but surely becoming mud around her, a coarse rope pinning her arms to her sides and her wrists behind her back. The kerchief around her mouth smelled nice, though. Smelled like him, she suspected. What strange thoughts she kept having.
Her heart fluttered as his eyes turned back to her again. Perhaps he was concerned afterall. After a few too-short minutes, the young man gave a sigh and got to his feet. He made his way over to her and bent down over that pile of rubble. Rummaging through it, he pulled out a long sheet of wood that had survived the explosion, and after setting up a few pieces of stone, he laid the wood over it, creating a small tent.
"The ground's already wet..but you won't catch cold."
His voice was hard, and he didn't look directly at her face. But she could have sworn she heard a bit of sympathy in his voice. Maybe his cold heart really did have some warmth. Mara scooted under the plank of wood, relieved to be out of the cold rain. After she settled down, the young man pulled the cloak off his shoulders and laid it over the opening, cutting off the wind.
"It seems your father values his money more than his daughter.."
Her brow furrowed to hear him say that. Not the words themselves, troubling as they were, but how he said it. As if he, too, had had a father that way. He was rather young to be doing this sort of thing, she thought. While she was only fourteen, she was sure he wasn't much older. Sixteen, maybe. But as for what he'd said, she prayed it was not true. What would this boy do with her if she didn't prove helpful for him? And how could her father really value her less than his money?
But, as the hours dragged on, and the specified meeting time became long-gone, the boy's words seemed all too true. By the next morning, the rain had stopped, and still her father's men didn't come for her. It wasn't much longer before the boy pulled back the cloak and crouched down in front of her. Hands that would probably have been rough and mean on any other man were gentle, careful not to hurt her as he untied the kercheif from around her head.
"Well. I can't very well send you back to him without payment. But I can't stay here forever, either. If I let you go, you'd go back to him, wouldn't you?"
Mara's eyes widened and she quickly leaned towards him. "I wouldn't go back to him even if he did come for me now! Please, take me with you!"
The boy seemed rather taken aback by this, but his fair mouth curled into a faint smile. "So be it. You wouldn't last long on your own, anyway." He reached around to the back of his belt and pulled out a knife, promptly cutting the ropes away from her arms and wrists. Rocking back onto his heels, he offered his hand to her. Upon her taking it, he stood, and helped her up as well.
Mara brushed herself off, blush lifting to her cheeks as the boy laid his cloak over her shoulders. She swallowed uneasily, then spoke up, "If we are to be travelling together..might I know your name?"
(Kudos to you if you know who the young man is. Though, anyone who knows me and my characters well enough should figure it out pretty easily.)

.

How slow life seems when there is no one to run from, or to run to, or even to run for. How lonely life is without anything at all paying attention to you. Such was the boredom Rhia felt as she sat in the darkened corner of the tavern, all but content to sip the soup steaming in front of her. She was as of then without family, without ties, and without enemies it seemed. Fifty years since the Hunters had last attacked her, and even longer since she had been in love, or even lust. Even her dearest Guardian seemed to have left her, at least for the time. She was without danger, so in accordance to his duties he was not needed. Not that she'd have minded the conversation and company. But who could beg an angel of death to stay and make small talk? For that's what he was, they'd only recently come to realize. She suspected that was why he'd gone away, resuming the duties he'd for so long forgotten.
Oh, how bland a soup tastes when one has tasted the food of kings. Yet how sweet, how colourful when one has eaten nothing but berries and roots for weeks before. Rhia sighed and rested her chin on her hand, pushing the spoon around in the soup.
"Won't someone demand that my head roll along the floor?" she asked the chair across from her, currently occuppied only by her black sword, Blade. He, of course, said nothing in response. She set the spoon down and sat back with a groan, lifting her foot to rest on that chair. Her eyes wandered around the room, comforted by the fact that no one payed her any attention, mostly because of her choice of seat. No window, and the candle on the table did only enough to light up her eyes, deterring any curious gazes from looking for more than a moment.
While she was bored, she certainly did not take for granted the peace and quiet she'd been experiencing the past five decades. Centuries, even millenia of running, fighting, dying; she supposed she needed to heal some of her scars before they be replaced by more again later. For in fact there was little room for new ones, only room enough to open the old. It was her scars that were her reason for her conservative dress. Breeches, long-sleeve tunic, undershirt, and scarf, despite the warm spring weather. Her cloak rested on the seat behind her, to be worn throughout the year, rain or shine, blizzard or drout. One plus of constantly being on the move was that she could travel with the weather; migrate, like the birds and some cattle. Only, she stuck to the colder areas, rather than the warm. Not only did it make her dress more comfortable, but her usual human enemies were often slower and stupider when it became cold.
Of course, there always was the exception. She smiled to herself as she thought back on one man in particular, one of her greatest challenges concerning humans. As the winter thickened, his skills only seemed to become better and far more intimidating. That's not to say she was in any trouble. The times had not yet given humans the abilities to match or overcome Rhia in any way, and most of them only proved a nuisance or setback rather than any kind of threat.
She sat forward again, lifted the bowl and drained its contents. She set the bowl back down, rummaged through her pocket, and produced a few coins to be placed beside the bowl. Standing up, she pulled her cloak around her, hood low over her head to hide her face from the light, and hooked Blade back onto her belt.
"Shall we, old friend?" again addressing the sword. This time, she could feel the hum of the weapon under her hand, and smiled. A few graceful strides, and she left the tavern.

Thanks for the comment, Mal ^^; I appreciate it. Feels like I'm talking to a brick wall sometimes, not knowing what anyone's thinking. I know all of my friends are out there reading this, at least. Oh well. Guess I have to physically ask to get any real feedback. Anywho..anything to report... I've discovered that my characters really do have minds of their own. I was writing down an idea I had for the very end of the series, hammering out some dialogue for one of the situations, and Arcane revealed a secret about himself I didn't even know. It's amazing how it happens. My pen just flows when I'm writing dialogue, like I'm just taking down what they're saying as I listen to it. I didn't make the connection or realization until just after I saw the ink flow from my pen. It's like reading one of the Taltos books - otoutousan will know what I'm talking about - when the guy suddenly reveals another plot point. It's like OH! Wow...okay..oooo.. Then ten-thousand new ideas pop into my head that I have to find a way to fit into the series -.-;; Oh well. I'll figure it all out eventually. I still have until the end of this month before I really start writing the first book seriously. Sorry I can't tell anyone about the little tidbit Arcane revealed of himself. I want that to be a surprise when it finally comes out. Too bad that's going to be in what'll probably be the last book I publish. It is at least the last book in the storyline. So, you can all stew about it for a while..it's not that amazing or anything, it was just a wow factor for me.
Anywho..let's see. What else have I been coming up with.. Not much, I have to say. Some amusing ideas about how Seth meets his first wife..but not much else. Hopefully I'll have some more soon. And please please please, all of you people out there, I can't say this enough. Commeeeeent >< If you have ideas, or questions, something you want me to clear up or go into, anything, just say so and I'll do my best to answer. It'll help me a lot, too, in organizing my thoughts. This is all still up in my head, afterall.

Creative Frustrations

Not having the internet at home has put a serious damper on my rping time - that is, it's done to practically zero. The only rping I've been able to do is what my friend and I can do over the phone. As a result, I've had dozens of ideas swimming around in my head, and no real way to get them out in the open. Sure, I could write them down, but that's no fun for me. I like feedback, interaction, people telling me what they think or reacting to it as I'm writing it. That's why roleplaying has been such a serious part of my writing and to Rhia's life. Rhia wouldn't exist - none of this story would exist - without roleplaying. Rhia was 'conceived' and 'grew up' in the roleplaying world. She first made her true appearance on a message board eight years ago, when I was ten, and it was there her attitude, Kalvin, Tobias, and her backstory arose. It was there I discovered she was half Drow, half Wood, that Kalvin had been a part of her, that she'd been exiled from her home - from a family that sorely missed her - and that she'd had such a relationship with Tobias and destroyed it so that her life could never be 'normal'. It was there she met a shy, humble human named Famij, and his 'sister', Wye. It was on that message board she first fell in love, first got married, first fought, first spilled blood, and first cried. And it was from there that I gained confidence in the chatroom rping world and ventured out into the AOL chats. And it was in these chats that Rhia matured from the snotty brat she (I) started out as, and became the desired, untameable woman she is today. One look in your direction and you find yourself drawn to that dark corner she sits slouched behind a table in, tavern smoke making her even harder to discern from the shadows. Her magick, her beauty, and her dangerous, crimson eyes pull in any man, young, old, strong or weak of body, mind, or soul. In fact, it's come to be that she causes at least eighty men to fall in love with her and start a family with her. Of course, few of them survived or were able to remain with her for long. And that's only those with whom she had children. You and I can only guess as to how many men really did fall in love with her. What I hope is that millions all over our world fall in love with her character, on paper and, soon I hope, on screen. It is true that nearly every rp I've had with Rhia will somehow effect the storyline. Either the character I encountered will show up in any variety of roles, or a particular situation will arise, or the entire storyline of the rp itself. Rhia's first close-encounter with a human will come up in probably the second book - thus the underlying theme of a criticism of human civilization will finally become 'clear'. Rhia's love of a turned-vampire and how she saved him, and how her blood is now lethal to all born-vampires, and a cure to all turned. And, who could forget (that have ever listened to any of the storyline), Rhia's travels with two wolves, Sam - the smart-mouthed reject, and Kit - the high-class-unwillingly-turned-lone wolf. That was actually one of Rhia's first as well, and was quite exciting. I'm only sad I cannot get back in touch with the girl who played Sam and a variety of other characters that showed up in the storyline, so that we could continue and somehow give it an end. I suppose that shall be left up to me. That brings up an important point, however. Seeing as so much of my storyline evolved in these various rps, and many of the characters that I'll be including in some way or another are not originally my own - though will probably evolve to fit my needs - I will be doing my damnedest to get in touch with these people and get their permission to use their characters and our storylines. Those that I cannot get in touch with - probably a great many of them - and that I have some sort of name or screenname with which to refer to them by, I will give them credit in an Acknowledgements or Preface section. ::gazes up at everything typed up already:: Well..guess I've done quite a bit of ranting. I had intended on doing a bit of a writing sample of the dialogue for the first book, but I guess that'll have to wait until tomorrow, or whenever I happen to post next. Until then - not that there's anyone out there reading this yet, or at least no one that cares enough to comment - keep me in mind.