Monday, January 25, 2016

Unfinished Stories: Untitled Sci-fi from a dream.

So last night I had a pretty vivid dream. This is the second time I've dreamt something that I thought could viably turn into a story-line. This time, I decided to go for it. So below is my sci-fi dream turned prose. I stayed pretty close to the dream itself, including all the imagery and the general plot. The dialogue and flow is all new, though, because my dreams tend to be a bit ephemeral and I think it's more enjoyable for the reader to have more than hazy transitions and subconcious understanding that an event is happening or was meant to happen.

I will likely re-read this and edit it a million times in the coming days, but this is the free-flow from my mind to the paper. Or, I suppose, in today's world, my mind to the pixels.

Anywho, without further ado, this is what I whipped out!

****

My palms were sweaty. I’d never been the head of an introduction before and felt incredibly nervous. I tried hard not to show it, but I was afraid it was written all over me. Besides, who knew was senses these beings had? They could be able to detect every emotion in me as if reading a large print book and there would be nothing I could do about it. What then? No sense in worrying, I thought, best not to think about it.


I tapped at the large white oval table before me lighting up the screen within it. A few flicks and some deft well practiced keystrokes pulled up the holographic image of their ship. It flickered slightly and shimmered as it slowly rotated before me. I studied it. It was large, smooth, and had rounded edges. It almost seemed to be in the general shape of an egg with the smaller end tapering off into arced points. I checked out the stats. This was definitely a powerful ship. From my studies I could discern formidable weaponry as well as unique exploration and study capabilities. It seemed it could be a living ship, with large colonies of inhabitants taking their homes on the ship itself.

I looked up at the statue on the table before me. It was an odd thing, all brown and deep reddish pink, with irregular shapes and circles. It looked almost like melted clay formed into an odd puzzle made of dripping circles and swirls. I suppose it was attractive, in a unique if-you-like-that-sort-of-thing way. Still, I was surprised to have received the transmission from the Paridians that they wanted it. I didn’t even know how the Evenheart Base of Section 84 even came to have it, but the Paridians made it clear that they wanted it. I had checked with command and they practically laughed at the inconsequential absurdity of the request and told me to handle it, even though I was quite a low ranking officer.

A notification beeped and blinked on the table console in front of me informing me my guests had arrived. My heart-rate doubled, if that were possible, and I swallowed the dryness back in my throat.

I was about to get up when another transmission flashed in. It was blinking red, and bright capital letters spelling URGENT were flashing insistently. I would have ignored it, but I couldn’t ignore an urgent. Great, I sighed to myself, my first introduction and I’m going to have to make them wait.

Quickly I tapped away at the console to pull up the transmission. Concern wrinkled my features as I tried to pull it up, struggling to find a clean image in the weak signal. I couldn’t get visual, aside from a flickering holographic image of a ship that looked very similar to the Paridians, only it was smaller and seemed a little more ornate to me. Pressed for time I didn’t bother to decode the garbled visuals and instead tried to pull up at least a viable sound file. I tapped at my ear piece and the light-set flickered on. Through snapping and popping and some generalized static I could barely hear a human male's voice.

“... do not… take.. I repeat.. do not give up... the statue is of utmost importance..”

The statue? Could they be talking about this monstrosity the Paridians want?

I tried to get more clarity on the message and pull up origin and logs but nothing was coming through. It seemed as if someone were attempting to send this message from a jump.

“This is an urgent…” the message continued “... I repeat.. do not let the…. keep the statue safe.”
I frowned as the message ended. What in the stars was going on here? I looked back up at the statue before me and my nose contorted in confusion. No way it was over this.

The tabletop console started blinking bright blue and beeping again, informing me that the Paridians were in the passageway ahead and would arrive within seconds. With an instinctive reaction I tapped a few commands into the system and the table opened up, lowered the statue into a compartment beneath, and then closed up again, swallowing the strange piece like a hungry white whale.

Just at that moment the door at the far end of the large meeting room slid open and a small group of three Paridians walked purposefully through. I tried to stop my jaw from clanking open. They also looked somewhat like melted clay. Their entire form resembled that of a humanoid that had a vat of brownish-red clay poured on them, covering their every extremity. They even seemed to have a few extra appendages, though it was strangely difficult to discern any specific feature. Something about them made the eyes slip off them and never quite focus properly.

I stood up and brushed my silver and white uniform down to release the wrinkles. Very odd noises briefly echoed through the large greeting chamber before the universal translators picked up the unique language and words flowed out of my earpiece.
“Where is it?”

I thought that rather rude, but customs varied widely between species and I wasn’t about to screw up my first introduction.

I opened up my mouth to reply, but instead a massive booming sound shook the station. I blinked, the words I’d intended to speak caught in my throat despite my wide open mouth. The Paridians suddenly started moving, so fast my eyes couldn’t focus on their movements. They seemed only like brownish blurs to me. The door opened again and in rushed some officers. The Paridians shrieked in a bone shivering high pitched warble and with a movement faster than I could register they flung something at the officers and each one fell stiffly to the floor, their bodies seized as if every muscle had tightened at once. My brain couldn’t quite keep up with what was happening. Another blast hit and I fell to the floor. Then the gunfire started, but who was shooting, I couldn’t say. I rolled towards the table and huddled in the depression underneath it. All I could see was a blur of shapes whipping past the table.

“What in the stars?” I whispered aloud.

In front of me the heavy shape of a Paridian thumped to the floor, felled from a shot fired somewhere within the room. With disgusted fascination I watched as the clay-like substance it seemed to be covered in first started to clarify, the eye-slipping effect apparently wearing off after death, and then began to melt off the body. The gooey mass spread from the dead Paridian like sluggish red-brown molasses and crept across the floor towards me. Repulsed, I edged further back trying to avoid the revolting puddle of dead alien. The main body itself began to appear beneath the dripping mess and looked glossy, onyx black, and hard.

Before I could study the dead alien any further I heard more screaming. This time it was human.

“Where is she!? WHERE IS SHE!?” a man was yelling. Then more strange warbling shrieks sounded before another cacophonous bout of gunfire and frantic movement took over the room. Two more bodies hit the floor and a sound like muted thunking feet trailed out of the room. Someone must have fled.

For a brief moment the room went silent and I could hear more sounds of battle outside the room and beyond. It sounded as if the entire station was submerged in fighting.

“Guard the door,” the man’s voice said.

“Yes, Nexan,” a voice sounded through the universal translator.

Was that a Paridian voice? I thought in a panic. Oh stars.. that was definitely a Paridian voice. Oh stars…

“Hey, there. You, under the table,” the man said.

I froze stiff, my muscles resolutely refusing to move.

“Hey, c’mon… get out from under there. We don’t have time for this. It was you, wasn’t it? You received my message.”

I might as well have been a bonafide possum for all the movement my body was willing to make. Or maybe one of those fainting goat things I’d heard about. I’d been shocked stiff.

I heard a sigh and then a thick arm reached under the table, a strong hand deftly latched onto my arm, and roughly yanked me out and onto my feet.

“Oh,” I said lamely.

The man laughed and I looked up at him. He had a crooked smile that looked perfectly natural on his masculine face. I wouldn’t say he was terrifically handsome, but he was no slouch either. Something about his unshaven face and slightly crooked nose and crinkly eyes as he smiled didn’t look altogether bad.

What, are you going to ask him out on a date? I chided myself. You were just in the middle of a bloody gunfight with an alien species for stars sake. Oh, god.. and look.. some of that disgusting clay is on your shoe now. I lifted my foot and not really knowing where to put it down - since I was still locked rather firmly in scruffy-guys grip and couldn’t move anywhere - I just stood there like a patient flamingo.

“You were the one who recieved my message, yes?” he asked again. “This is the communications room at this station?” He looked about briefly and nodded as if confirming his assumption by what he could see in the room. Although what he could see was beyond me. Most everything was light based and for the most part everything just looked like smooth white furniture.

“Uh…” I started. “Well, yes.”

The man then made a strange noise, it sounded something like "Maruuka" with a sort of rolled ‘h’ sound in the middle.

“Yes, Nexan?” My eyes trailed slowly to the left where they landed on the clay-dripped shape of a Paridian. Well, sort of landed. My eyes again couldn’t quite find purchase and look directly at it. It was as if my sight was mimicking hands playing a game of slippery soap in the shower. Panic fluttered in my chest and involuntarily I tried to take a step back, which only resulted in my foot landing in the muck of dead alien at my feet and my body making an attempt to do some wild gymnastics to the floor. Fortunately scruffy-guy, Nexan, I suppose, still had a firm grip on me and jerked me back upright.

“Oh,” was all I said again. Oh, stars, I chided myself. And you call yourself a communications officer. Real eloquent.

Ignoring me, Nexan turned to Maruuka, “Guard the door,” he said. “We may have found it.”

Quietly the Paridian moved to the door, moving so fluidly he seemed to almost disappear from my sight.

“Wild,” I commented under my breath.

Nexan looked at me with an amused expression. “Never seen a Paridian before, ah? Fun things, them. Craziest camouflage ability I’ve seen yet. Now, where's the statue?”

I looked up into his brown eyes and tried to get my brain to function again. I was an officer of the 84th sation for stars sake. I needed to act like one.

“I’m not permitted to say,” I said, proud of how confident I sounded.

The steel grip on my arm tightened slightly, and I had to admit, it hurt. “Look,” Nexan began in a cold voice, “I know you’re confused, you have no idea what’s going on, and you want to follow your rulebook. You’re what, a year out of training?”

I swallowed. It’d been 6 months, but I wasn’t about to say.

Nexan grunted, “Yeah, your face says it all. Too green, you are. But here are the facts as you need to know them. We’re in danger. Very, serious, danger.” he stressed each word and punctuated them with a slight shake of his grip on my arm. My head sort of wobbled back and forth in time with the movement.

“We need that statue, and we need it now. The Ruughan Sect can’t be allowed to get it.” There was that odd rolling 'h' sound again.

“Uh... Roo-gan sect?” I asked.

“Never mind that,” he said sounding exasperated. “For the love of stars, please tell me you didn’t give them the statue.”

“It’s just a statue,” I said, again mentally congratulating myself on my excellent communications skills. Because that's the salient point here, never mind the dead aliens and gunfire everywhere.

“It’s not just a statue, it’s something much, much more. Please, tell me you still have it.”

I stared into his eyes for a long moment. He didn’t flinch. I took a deep breath and made another instinctive decision, hoping to the universe that it was the right one.

“Okay,” I said, and gently pried his iron grip off my arm. The fabric was seriously wrinkled and distorted from his firm grip. I frowned at it but moved quickly to the table, trying to avoid the ever-spreading muck of the dead Paridians on the floor. Deftly tapping away at the table and activating the light screens I re-opened the table and the statue emerged like a birthed flower. I looked over at Nexan and the look of pure relief on his face was somehow comforting.

“Maruuka!” he called. It only took the Paridian a blink to reach the table. He brought out a strange looking brownish-red device, in the same general style of everything else Paridian, and tapped it to the statue. A ringing sound echoed throughout the room, a note so excruciatingly pure it almost hurt.

“It is done,” Maruuka said.

“Thank the bloody stars,” Nexan exhaled with a hint of relieved laughter in his voice. He looked over at me and joy lit up his face. “Youuuuu,” he said almost playfully and began to take steps towards me.

I backed up uncertainly, a little confused at his sudden shift in mood and intention. But before he could reach me an explosion sounded right outside the door. It shattered inwards scattering shrapnel into the room. I heard Nexan grunt and his body hit me hard. We fell to the floor in a tangled heap.

“GO!” Maruuka growled in his unique voice.

Somehow we were up and running and Nexan was yelling at me. “Back door! Is there a back door!?”

My fight or flee reflex firmly fixed to the flee position, and I yanked him past some decorative paneling that shielded a side hallway. We burst into a small kitchen before dashing through another door and down a hallway. I think Maruuka was behind us. I couldn’t be sure, he had turned blurry again. All I knew is there were more explosions and gunfire behind me.

“We need to get to Bay 50!” Nexan called over the noise.

I only nodded in answer and pulled him sharply to the left down another corridor. Suddenly in front of us there was a blur of shapes. Nexan whipped me to the side and I hit the wall hard. He pulled out a weapon and shot it, after a resounding blast a net like substance seemed to shimmer out of it and hit the indistinct shapes near the end of the hallway. Light flashed and the suddenly visible shapes of dead Paridians hit the floor, already oozing their clay exteriors.

“Stars,” I swore.

“Lets go,” a voice sounded in my ear. I practically jumped out of my skin. Maruuka was right beside me.

I ran again, leading them towards the Bay terminals. Occasionally more Paridians tried to stop us but the weapon Nexan used was formidable against them. And if anyone came at us from behind, Maruuka got them with the strange projectiles I’d see the original Paridians use. It didn’t seem to kill the Paridians but it did slow them down substantially with the same muscle-stiffening effect.

“It stops the heart of humans,” Maruuka explained quietly, despite the frantic escape. He seemed a bit unrufflable. “Paridians are stronger.”

“You mean they don’t have hearts,” I responded.

Maruuka made a strange noise. I think he was laughing.

It was the longest run of my life but somehow we made it to the Bay terminals. Quickly we made our way to Bay 50. The area seemed to be deserted here. Apparently much of the fighting was centralized at the main offices.

Nexan ran ahead of me and bolted for the ship I’d seen earlier in the holographic imaging - the smaller more decorative one. Up close it was actually rather beautiful in a shimmering brown with flecks of red. The construction of the ship was based in smooth lines and gentle curves that the eye felt pleased to follow. It was supremely graceful looking.

Maruuka called something out that I couldn’t understand and I felt a tingling sensation rush through my body. I looked down at my fingers and they were shimmering incandescently. Oh, stars, panic seized my body, not transport. And then I was in the ship, flailing headlong into a wall that hadn’t been there a moment before. I slammed into it heavily and plopped backwards onto the floor, landing with a pretty decent crack on my tailbone. I groaned.

“If you’d had a plumper ass,” Nexan commented with a grin, “that probably wouldn’t have hurt so much.”

My jaw dropped as I looked up at him. He started laughing and then strolled casually out of the room. The ship was already moving, and before I could speak two words, I felt the telltale surge of a ship reaching jump.

“What in the stars...” I said lamely.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Storytime: DRAFT - 'Sphinx' (sci-fi)

Here's a short little sci-fi excerpt that could one day turn into that next movie you wait in line to see ;)

"Sphinx" (working title)



It hit me again - like a nagging heartbeat just outside the edge of hearing. I scratched at the inside of my ear trying to clear out the sound.

I refocused on my task, pressing the numbers into the keypad, attempting to bypass systems.

Sphinx froze, then stated, “they’re here.”

“No… No, not yet,” I begged. I kept typing in codes, desperately working the system.

“Now,”  she said, quietly - calmly.

I glanced up at the dark figure beside me, nothing but a silhouette to my eyes and back-lit by cool white wall panel lights. She was a tall, stoic and gracefully poised. Her firm shapely body seemed like a statue it was so still.

“Now,” she repeated.

“I can’t…” I blurted. I felt the sharp edges of panic plucking my nerves like stringed instruments, threatening to sever them. “It’s not…”

Suddenly the screen flashed blue then green and a quick trill of electronic noises signaled the acceptance of data. I swore in relief to myself and whispered a gentle thanks to the Uni.

“Let’s go,” I said, grabbing the silk of her palm and dragging her through the newly opened door. “We’re almost there.”

“I know,” she said again, her voice echoed strangely, almost void of thought, yet somehow completely certain.

We ran down the hallways lined with stark gray metal walls and strips of vertical paneled lighting. The only decoration were the thick bolts riveted in deep to seal in the air. These were mostly barren service ways designed for engineers and servicemen. Everything looked identical to me. I had no idea where we were.

“Right,” she stated calmly, and I stumbled briefly with a confused expression on my face. “Right,” she repeated more firmly and comprehension tickled my brain. I bolted towards the right fork in the passageway ahead.

My heart was pounding in my chest.  Every possible fear was playing theatre in my head, brilliant stories of blood and gore. They would catch us, hook us in with their grappling knives, and reel us in like struggling sturgeon whipping against the current. And when they caught us, they would eat us alive. Fresh meat, moist and juicy, exceptional quality.

I choked back a sob.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Left.”

I looked at her with wide eyes. With an instantaneous trust born of necessity, I whipped left. She was so strangely certain and I found myself impressed by her impenetrable calm as we thudded down the passageways. I felt like my bile was inches away from making decorations on the wall but she seemed almost doe eyed despite the danger. Who was this woman?

“There,” she said as we approached a foot thick silicate glass partition that revealed empty space beyond.

“What?” I asked dumbfounded. We were at a dead end.

She said nothing, only stared quietly out into the Uni beyond.

I shook my head in agitation - the sound, like a heartbeat just outside the edge of hearing, was in me again. The air started to vibrate and distort in pulsing ripples, rhythmically, as if in time with a heartbeat. I placed my hands on my temples trying to control the pressure that was building there.

Behind us I could still hear shouting and the thudding of thick soled shoes against the steel floors, and I looked at Sphinx with a desperate expression. She just stood there, calmly, with her head cocked to the side as if listening to something - something else.

I began to panic. We were trapped. There was no way we were getting out of this.

The pulsing started to hurt. I mean really hurt. My hands gripped at the sides of my head, desperately trying to keep it from ripping apart. I think I was screaming.

“Good.” stated Sphinx.

“Wha...” I managed weakly before the breath was sucked from my lungs, wrenched out with titanic force.

The glass had shattered.

We were sucked into space.

At the same moment the overwhelming heartbeat and vibrations abruptly ended, the world exploded. Imploded. Exploded. I had no idea. I was sucked from the station like a seed spat out of a straw and shot into the vacuum of space. Into.. nothing. Into absolute emptiness…. Everything went silent.

****

I must have blacked out.

I awoke slowly, groggily. There was a strange beeping noise at the edge of my hearing. With indeterminate slowness my brain finally registered the persistent beeping of a heart monitor. For a moment I was still, calm, eerily comfortable.

And then I panicked.

Wrenching up in the bed I clutched at the tubes and wires connected to me, confused and blindly trying understand them and what the hell they were doing on me - oh god, in me. But they tugged painfully, beads of blood welled up at connection points.

Someone rushed towards me, making noise. I gripped at them, begging, dry heaving. They kept screaming at me. I couldn’t understand them. The room was spinning. There was strange music playing and I was going to be sick. No… I was sick. I threw up, everything in my stomach heaved upwards with surprising momentum. It felt like it would never end. I had the absurd thought that I was a fountain. And then world swirled back into black.

****










(to be continued?)
I feel I could edit until my dying breath.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Poetry: between the lines

In between the lines
I sit cross legged and watching
Patiently kinetic
curious

The pressure mounts
champagne
bursting

I sit between the lines
and watch for my opening
to reach through
to

the lines
and pluck them, listening
for a tune
the assemblage of tones that
connect

where the lyrics bind
and words are kind

where brutal honesty
doesn't hurt.

I am here...

still
between the lines.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Can't sleep poetry

Quiet masses of balled up impertinence
I see your eyes watching me
The liquid state from which you evolve
Into your gaseous expulsions

Carnivorous expressions of thick interest
Tied up in tendrils of innocent notions
Lick the sweet nectar of sweeter relief
The silver platter of revulsion. 

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Poetry: A blip in the timeline

A blip in the timeline,
really.
One pulse on a heart monitor,
thump.
One memory for the books,
shut.

An echo that reverberates near,
further.
The sensation still lingers,
warm.
One open thought is louder,
arms.

Thumping expression I feel it,
a heartbeat.
Soft words - worried - but spoken,
confusion.
Demons screaming for release,
burned me.

Sadness tinges the relief,
truth.
I wish we could speak,
silence.
Ephemeral words to touch you...
...
belief.

can you feel


...

There could be something greater in you.


pity


Friday, October 23, 2015

late night free verse musings - Overthought

Quietly now, before the indulgence of speech. When the mind pitter patters in a frenetic beat. Perceptions split and curiosities rage in an uninhibited battle for the recesses of ones mind. I ache cleanly for peaceful thinking as I wade neck deep in thick mud. Lyrically speaking everything has meaning but in the ephemeral state of thought I am lost. Constantly keening. Dreaming. Finding meaning. Where is this leading. Stop. Just stop. And breathe deeply. The moments are waiting sweetly. Patient for their time of notice. Existing serenely. I am tight, held fast in this lost and found. Eyes curiously seeking.
Now. 

Break the fast. 

Bursting

freely.

15.10.23

Thursday, September 24, 2015

my wild dream

I had the wildest dream the other night. I don't remember many details anymore, except for this one experience that was incredible to have in the vividness of my dreamscape.

I was at some sort of outdoor event. I think it was a strange sport that involved a pool. I remember walking dressed in a beautiful backless dress knowing I had something important to do. I took my seat on some bleachers and then felt an odd feeling... and I knew... I was there. Another me, who'd time traveled?

I turned around and looked at a crowd gathered in a section behind and just off to the side of the bleachers. There I saw someone tall in a light suit holding up his/her hand to their face to shade their eyes from the glare of the bright sun. And I saw a flickering reflection of light off something, making it difficult to see behind the person, but I knew anyway. I knew it was me. I wasn't supposed to make contact, but I smiled mischievously and made a small wave. I swear I saw myself wink back at me.

I turned back around to attend to the game and my purpose there. I had to do something (although I don't remember what). I felt my own eyes watching me but I new I had to maintain focus. It was important to not make people aware that I was both here and there. The dream progressed, I don't remember much except that a bunch of wild and dreamy things happened.

Then found myself in a crowd, and I nudged my way up until I was almost near the front. Someone in a pale suit was in front of me with their arm up to shade the sun from their eyes. Through the space his arm made, I could make out the bleachers and the pool beyond. And then I saw myself in my backless dress, turn to look at me, squinting to try and make me out in the crowd. I couldn't tell if she actually saw me, except that I new that she did, since I'm her, and she tried to suppress a knowing smile and waved surreptitiously, just the tips of her fingers moved, really. I winked at her... we both knew.

I moved away, having to complete my business - my mission, whatever it was - and as I skirted around the crowd I watched the backless dress me from behind as she resolutely kept her eyes forward instead of drawing attention to me. I remember thinking, "Hm, she's really quite beautiful.. I don't know why I'm so self conscious."

Then the dream moved on, and has sunk into the deep recesses of my memory that I cannot reach.

Still, that part was so vivid, so clear and detailed, it felt almost real. As if I had actually time traveled and saw myself from both perspectives.

Wild.



Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Musings: if I had no monetary needs

If I had no monetary needs.. I'm pretty sure my life would be submerged in art. I'd have canvases and paint at need to unleash whatever expression I had within me, I'd have studio time and exceptional musical minds to work with to develop whatever floated from our souls, I'd have pen and paper and novels surrounding me in their delicious weight, with brilliant minds to discuss, discern, and develop with....

mm.. what a wonderful dream.

He looks at me like he's the spoon...

Prudie: He looks at me like he's the spoon, and I'm this dish of ice cream.
Bernadette: (long exhale) It's a good thing we're reading Sense and Sensibility next.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Stories: (Tales from my Past) "The Pirate, The Boy, and The Peanut"

A buddy once asked me to write him a story. He said he wanted it to be about a pirate, a boy, and peanut....

And so I wrote.


THE PIRATE, THE BOY, AND THE PEANUT
1080 words
By Kristina Shelden


There once was a young man, who after eating a gooseberry pie spiked with moon juice, fell terribly ill. No one in the young man's town knew what to do, for the boy would respond to no medications or treatments.

Now, everyone knows that the evil pirate, Roberto Arnando Del Montague al Noutzen, has in his possession a magical object that could cure all ailments. The boy's parents, fretting themselves raw, and knowing not else what to do, placed the poor sick soul in a fishing boat, and pushed him off to sea. In between his index finger and his thumb they placed an offering. A peanut. (Because everyone also knows Roberto Arnando Del Montague al Noutzen can resist not the temptation of a single peanut.) And they prayed to the ocean gods to guide their son safely to a cure.

The gods, being Martians from outer space, and having brought the moon juice to the earthlings, (also knowing all too well the temptation and power of such a magical concoction, and the hangover - OH! The HANGOVER), took pity on the boy and using the ocean currents, guided the boy to R.A.D.M.a.N.

Swiftly the boy’s small boat approached the massive ship commanded by the evil pirate. Angrily he saw the boat approach - such audacity that anyone dare approach his ship and treasures! - and with a grace born of a man at sea, and a grunt befit only of the piratiest of pirates, he swept up a harpoon gun and aimed it levelly at the poor sick young man. Just as his thick evil finger pressed the trigger just a hairs-span in depth, his keen eye caught sight of something that instantly melted his heart.

The peanut.

Without hesitation RADMaN fished the limp figure of the boy out of the rickety craft, and placed him tenderly onto the ships deck, all the while cooing softly to the peanut.

Now his crew knew all to well the warning that was within that soft cooing sound, and slowly backed away from their dread captain, hands held out in supplication for peace. Or at least, sanity.

RADMaN hungrily licked his lips. He rubbed his hands together briskly in anticipation. He opened and closed his mouth with a sloppy slick wet sucking noise. And he grabbed for the peanut with greed in his beady black eye, (eye, in singular, because his other eye was covered with a patch, of course. Pirate.. duh.) and tried to pry the coveted item from the sick boys fingers.

But it didn't budge.

RADMaN blinked stupidly.

He pulled at it again.

It was stuck fast.

Tug, tug.

Nuthin. It wouldn't budge.

He growled and sat back on his haunches. “Yaaaaar me matey’s! What be the deal here?”

His crew looked back at him warily, none knowing the answer.

Suddenly there was a great boom and a crash from over the railing, the sound knocking the dread pirate back to land squarely on his tush with delicate little ‘oopsie!’ only befitting of the daintiest of milkmaids. (“Ahem!” he says, “Yaar.. I mean.. OOF!”)

A deep and powerful voice echoed over the wind. It was a Martian!!

“T’is the Moon Juice you great fool! It has rendered him stiff!”

RADMaN glared sulkily over at the Martian. “Stiff??” he yelled, “But I wants me peanut, yaar!”

The Martian chuckled mightily. “To get it, evil sir, you must SAVE the poor boy! Using your thingbobbit you got from your last raid.”

“SAVE?” The pirate pouted, “But that goes against me morals! What kind of pirate would I be!”

The great being grinned slyly at the prone, dread, evil pirate. “A peanut-less one.” And with that the Martian slipped silent back into the depths of the ocean.

The pirate stared at the boy, who was still, sure enough, stiff as a wet dream. Pursing his lips, he signaled to one of his crew members, who intelligently enough, scurried away to grab the thingbobbit.

After a brief wait, the crewman returned but yanking awkwardly and pulling in tow a very pretty young lady in a blue dress. Attached to her wrist on a thin gold chain, was the thingbobbit.

“But it’s MINE!” She screeched petulantly. “Daddy gave it to ME!!” Her whole body leaned back in protest, her heels planted firmly with her little toes pointed in the air.

The crewman, completely out of his element, looked bewildered and completely at a loss. The dread pirate RADMaN looked up, although hesitantly, from his contemplation of the small peanut planted firmly in the sick boys fingers. His eyes practically making a tearing sound through the air as his gaze pulled away.

“Susana Petunia O’ Indica La Entre Dam!” He boomed. “My daughter, come here now! Yaar!”

Susana stopped her futile tugging at the pitiable crew member, but didn’t move.

“B..b…but…”

“I said, YAAAAAR!”

SPOILED’s eyes turned the size of saucers. With shoulders slumped in defeat, she approached her father. With the purest expression of mope in all the land, she offered up the thingbobbit.

“I really don’t understand what’s so important..” she started, but her father eyed her sternly and her mouth popped closed, albeit with a perfect pout gracing her lower lip.

“I must save this lad,” he said, “to get me my peanut!”

“A PEANUT!!!” she screeched again, “And SAVE a boy! POPPA,” she said deliberately, “WHAT, KIND, OF, PIRATE, ARE, YOU?”

RADMaN grinned greedily. “One with a peanut! Yaar!” he bellowed triumphantly.

He leaned low and placed the thingbobbit directly into the sick youth’s mouth. Instantly his eyes popped open and he was alert and awake. “WHOOoooOOoOoo!” he breathed, “my HEAD!”

Deftly the evil pirate snatched the peanut from the young man’s still groggy fingers and suddenly burst into a jig and sang a yo ho ho pirate song.

Unbeknownst to him, his daughter suddenly turned from petulant spoiled child, to demure young lady. She watched coyly as the young man wobbily stood up. He was a fine figure of a young man, and she noticed. Blinking, he turned to take in his surroundings, and at once was assaulted by the incredibly beauty of RADMaN’s daughter. They stared at each other unabashedly.

RADMaN, giggling contentedly, finished his jig and popped the peanut in his mouth with a satisfying crunch, (shell and all, Pirate’s eh?). Then, he noticed the two young adults.

He looked to his daughter, then he looked to the young man, then back to his daughter.

“Crap,” he said. “Yaar.”

Musings: Unfinished creations

I think there's nothing worse than having the need to create, the need to develop an idea or thought that's budding deep inside, a seed that's growing with unbridled abandon... It's a surge of desire that fills you utterly, immensely, it feels like it can't be contained. You have to let it out. You need to let it out.

But you can't. 

It stays there, unfinished.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

A big thank you from your Turtle Dancer after the 2015 Scotiabank 5k Charity Challenge

Kristina E, Kristina S, and Kristin S at the 2015 Scotiabank 5k Charity Challenge in support of Spinal Cord Injury BC

This year was my first year participating in the Scotiabank 5k Charity Challenge, and I set what I honestly thought was an unreachable goal of $1000. I am deeply humbled and overjoyed at the reminder of how generous and amazing the people are in my life. With your help, I raised $1,100!!!! I'm still in awe over how ridiculously awesome you all are. Thank you. THANK YOU to those who donated. I know that there are many worthy causes out there and it means a lot to me that you shared your hard earned dollars in support of an organization that means so much to me.

Turtle Dancer Sports Card for SCI-BC 2015 Scotiabank 5k Charity Challenge


The day of the 'run' I was fortunate to have two amazing friends, Kristina E and Kristin S, join me. I'm so lucky to have such supportive and amazing people in my life. Although I had every intention to at least try to walk then entire 5k, we brought along a wheelchair just in case. After 1k I already felt serious fatigue starting to kick in. To be honest, right then I wanted to plop my tush into that inviting seat, but my amazing friends encouraged me try going "just a little bit further". And I did! Another entire kilometer in fact. I'm kind of proud of that! It's amazing how far our bodies will actually take us if we don't immediately give in.

But by the 2k point, I was pretty near falling over, and I was so far behind the pack I wasn't sure we'd even finish the race in time, so I did get into the chair. Then these phenomenal women took turns pushing me. It was actually a total blast! Both of them felt like jogging so I got to zoom past the stragglers and rejoin the throng of people involved in the 5k. I've gotta say, it's a small thing, easily taken for granted, but it felt amazing to have the wind blow against us as we moved quickly back up to the pack. And having never participated in a run like this before, I was surprised by, and absolutely loved, the cheering people on the sides of the way encouraging us on. Whoever thought to start doing that is a brilliant person. So fun!

After being given that rest, and having been reinvigorated by the fun, I decided that I would walk the final kilometer. I wanted to cross the finish line on my feet.

I'm proud to say that I did.

My friends and I had decided to turtle dance at every kilometer mark, and we fully jiggled a good wiggle at each marker, but as promised to my donators I videod my turtle dance across the finish line. I apologize for the goofiness of the video! We did try to make another one with all three of us but unfortunately it didn't work. Still, here is my Turtle Dance Finish:

**Okay so I tried to inlay the video and it wouln't work.. so here's a link to facebook!

https://www.facebook.com/kristina.luyu/videos/vob.534005474/10155764853380475/?type=2&theater

Thank you again to everyone who supported me and who helped Spinal Cord Injury BC reach its fundraising goals. Help post-injury is so needed - our entire lives change in ways we can't even explain, and it's amazing to have an organization dedicated to helping people return to full, productive, happy lives.

THANK YOU!!!!

Your Turtle Dancer


Saturday, June 27, 2015

7 years... Today's tears and tomorrows victories.

7 years ago this evening....

You know, I try hard to make my lifeaversary a celebratory thing. I'm the kinda gal that likes to dust herself off, and move on. I think it's pointless to dwell on things you can't change, and even more pointless to swim in misery for the things you can.

Sometimes, though, that's not so easy.

So, for today, I think I'm gonna allow myself a little bit of feelin shitty. I think I might cry a little, too. Yup, sure am. Oh, hello salty tears, thought you'd come by for a visit mm? Stay a little while and wallow with me. I think it's okay, today.

Sometimes shit just fucking sucks. I still remember a body that could do anything I reasonably asked of it. And although I've done a lot of moving on, I still miss it. I can't seem to stop myself, today, from remembering when my body still fully worked. It's like a sharp dagger from the past, slinking through the depths of time to pierce this armor I've built for myself, poking holes that allow me to see with a strange sort of clairty what I 'once was'.  - The young woman who ran the length of long beach in Tofino, who climbed mountains in Spain, who had unstoppable passion and verve and had the ability to fully express it. The young woman who chose to walk to Granville Island from the skytrain just because it felt good and took the 5 flights of stairs up to work because she enjoyed the feeling. The young woman who kinda felt like she could do anything she put her mind to.

I've come a long way, I know... I'm proud of the person I've managed to etch out of a challenging situation - a person who in large part remains quite independent, and still finds as much laughter in life as she can.

The thing is, today, I morn for the past... I do. I can't seem to stop. Maybe that's what today is for.

Tomorrow I'm taking part in a 5k charity challenge that supports Spinal Cord Injury BC. I won't be able to run it, no, and maybe won't even be able to walk the entire distance.. but I'm going to try. And I'll be surrounded by other people who will be incredibly supportive and caring.

Maybe today is the day for tears.

And tomorrow will be for victories.

Saturday, June 20, 2015

Musings: an ephemeral hug

Sometimes I wish, in some magical way, you could know when someone is thinking about you. That you could turn on some psychic switch, like going online, and open yourself up to their thoughts. That way, no matter the time, the distance, no matter the reason for loneliness, you could know that you are connected - you could feel connected. Lit up in the comfort of connection in any space or time. An ephemeral hug that spans any barrier.

I think that would be beautiful.



Thursday, June 18, 2015

Garlic

A tip I recently discovered:

"Did you know... To remove garlic odour from your hands, rinse with lemon juice or scrub with salt and then rinse with cold water."

My question... WHO WOULD WANT TO REMOVE GARLIC ODOR FROM THEIR HANDS?

omnomnomngh could smell that ambrosia all day.