I daresay it's been awhile. But I've got a good excuse, I swear!
It started Mid-October back in my little college town. It was Friday and I had just gotten out of my last class of the day. The day was warm and sunny, and as averse as I usually am to sunlight, even I was enjoying it. I headed back to my dorm to unwind. I opened the door, surveyed the mess, made a mental note to do my laundry, dropped my bag, and checked my wards.
I probably should have done that first.
Staring me right in the face, at the base of my door, the salt line was broken. No sooner did I make note of this than I was aware of a humanoid form across the threshold. It (he?) was dressed in black boots, jeans, a black leather jacket, and a ski mask. What skin that showed from behind the mask was pale and its eyes were milky while bloodshot.
A snatcher. Joy.
Snatchers are born of parents' fears of someone taking their precious babies. They're actually a kind of Nervosa (referenced here.) They grab kids, walk purposefully away and once they're out of sight, they just disappear to Xenu knows where. Anywhat, the kids aren't seen again. Nobody (that I know) is really sure what becomes of them.
Anyw-word, the snatcher stepped on through my door reaching out for me. Naturally, I backed away and tried to think of something that would get me out of this mess. Except then another one came out from under my bed and joined the first one. They backed me into a corner (which wasn't much of a feat, considering how small my dorm room is). Normally, I'm good under pressure, but I was at a loss for what to do. Long story short: they each grabbed an arm, I thrashed (it didn't help), nobody else was around, so they did their thing and we disappeared.
But wait! There's more! Post-In-Progress.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Evil that Followed Me Home
Normally I try to ignore C's ramblings, but it's hard to do so when they suddenly become relevant. (And by C, I mean the other author, not the completely awesome follower.) Late July, he mentioned Phantom Cars. Personally, I'd never encountered one. I don't really get angry that often. But tonight, one almost ran me over.
I was on foot. It was about midnight and I was walking home from Taco Bell. The street between the Hearth and campus was empty. I walked. I was to the third lane over from the school when something bowled me over from behind. I flew forward to the sound of a revving engine and the noxious scent of exhaust permeated the air. I was still in the road and clearly there were cars, so I scrambled to my feet. I was suddenly yanked backward by my collar to land on my butt. A car rushed past right in front of me, where I had only moments ago stood.
As it passed, I became aware of the Faceless Lady standing on the curb. It was the first one with the coat but sans the cigarette. She immediately rushed forward, grabbed my arm and hauled me forward and off the road as another car rushed through the lane in which I had been sitting. Once I was up on the curb, I turned to see what had almost hit me. It was a shiny black car, which quickly faded from sight (and I mean "shimmer, shimmer, not there anymore"). Immediately, it reappeared in the lane closest to me and sped through before fading out for the last time. It had but one yellow headlight, no driver, and left muddy hoofprints on the road as it passed.
C was telling the truth, it seems. But I wasn't angry, so why attack me?
"The Evil sent it after you," came a voice from behind me. It sounded like Bernardette Peters if she were a chain smoker and was accompanied by glossolalic whispers.
The Faceless Lady spoke.
I was incredulous. I stared at her blank face.
"It followed you home," her disembodied voice added, "You did not go to it across the River, so it crossed for you. Didn't Squeak warn you?"
And then she turned and walked away, leaving me to figure out just what was going on.
Side Note: The hitchhiker-type is still out by the entrance of my dorm when viewed through the Brittney Glasses. People walk right through him, but I'm still worried about going anywhere near him. Last time I made contact with anything like him, I was given visions and had nightmares for a week. Still don't know what that's about..
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Shadow Offramps, The Town of Lacrima
Quite a fun little weekend. I came home to see my family and pick up a few things. I spent most of that time quite ill. There was also an ill-fated episode in which the 'rents tried to give me a haircut but the clippers weren't cooperating. It all works out. I had hoped to be back at school by 4 PM at the latest, but I didn't even get on the road before 6. That was all well and good except that it meant I would still be on the highway after nightfall on the way back to school. I hate driving at night...
The shadow highways are still there, crossing and looping and whatnot alongside the normal interstate highway, but I don't worry about it much during the day. I try to stay off of it at night. Especially after what happened last time. But alas, as I was getting off at my exit, the lights in the distance went out and the name on the offramp changed to "Lacrima, Population: Unknown".
Not again.
Like it or not, I had wandered onto the shadow highways. Or rather, wandered off. I switched on my high beams and followed the road as it went on for a ways into empty plains (which if you know anything about Arkansas is totally uncharacteristic). Finally, I came across Lacrima proper. "Population: Unknown" my foot, the town was completely empty. What's more the buildings were mostly Hollywood facades. Sure they were shades of grays and blacks and the door frames looked like the maw of some horrific beast (which in spite of my flippant tone is sure to give me nightmares for a while), but their not-really-a-building-ness just seemed to rob them of the scary. I would have turned around right then, but the road was only wide enough to travel one way.
There was one building that was more substantial, however. A large manor house which might have served as a town welcome center or something similar where I come from. A bit creepy, but not the least bit scary, I got out of my car and walked up to the door. It too was sculpted to look like a hungry nightmare. Being an actual building, the manor was gaining fear-reaction points by the moment. I knocked. Nothing. I waited for a moment, suppressing rising discomfort. I knocked again. Still nothing.
I turned to go back to my car. There was a swish behind me. I turned around. A letter had been pushed under the door. There was no light inside and the door was windowless. I picked it up. The letter had my name on the outside. I opened it.
It read;
"I dreamed a dream of a land not far away,
Where no birds sang,
No steeples rang,
And teardrops fell like rain."
I was suddenly acutely aware that there was no sound in Lacrima. Unsettlingly so. And then I could feel something like bending, creaking, cracking wood where the door was behind me, but I couldn't hear it. Panic rose. I ran back to my car without looking back. As soon as the engine was started, I found in the rear view mirror that the road was suddenly two-laned. I didn't need a second hint. I was out of there and headed back toward the highway. As soon as I entered the onramp, I was suddenly back on the offramp to my little college town. It's probably better for my sanity that I never saw what it was that came from the door.
A few things once I got back to my dorm. First, I did a search on the lines from the letter (which seems to have disappeared when I left Lacrima). It's from a choral piece called "The Awakening". No idea what that was about. The other thing was that the hitchhiker type was still outside my dorm. He hadn't moved at all from last week. That probably isn't good. Anywhat...
No more interstate night driving. Never again.
The shadow highways are still there, crossing and looping and whatnot alongside the normal interstate highway, but I don't worry about it much during the day. I try to stay off of it at night. Especially after what happened last time. But alas, as I was getting off at my exit, the lights in the distance went out and the name on the offramp changed to "Lacrima, Population: Unknown".
Not again.
Like it or not, I had wandered onto the shadow highways. Or rather, wandered off. I switched on my high beams and followed the road as it went on for a ways into empty plains (which if you know anything about Arkansas is totally uncharacteristic). Finally, I came across Lacrima proper. "Population: Unknown" my foot, the town was completely empty. What's more the buildings were mostly Hollywood facades. Sure they were shades of grays and blacks and the door frames looked like the maw of some horrific beast (which in spite of my flippant tone is sure to give me nightmares for a while), but their not-really-a-building-ness just seemed to rob them of the scary. I would have turned around right then, but the road was only wide enough to travel one way.
There was one building that was more substantial, however. A large manor house which might have served as a town welcome center or something similar where I come from. A bit creepy, but not the least bit scary, I got out of my car and walked up to the door. It too was sculpted to look like a hungry nightmare. Being an actual building, the manor was gaining fear-reaction points by the moment. I knocked. Nothing. I waited for a moment, suppressing rising discomfort. I knocked again. Still nothing.
I turned to go back to my car. There was a swish behind me. I turned around. A letter had been pushed under the door. There was no light inside and the door was windowless. I picked it up. The letter had my name on the outside. I opened it.
It read;
"I dreamed a dream of a land not far away,
Where no birds sang,
No steeples rang,
And teardrops fell like rain."
I was suddenly acutely aware that there was no sound in Lacrima. Unsettlingly so. And then I could feel something like bending, creaking, cracking wood where the door was behind me, but I couldn't hear it. Panic rose. I ran back to my car without looking back. As soon as the engine was started, I found in the rear view mirror that the road was suddenly two-laned. I didn't need a second hint. I was out of there and headed back toward the highway. As soon as I entered the onramp, I was suddenly back on the offramp to my little college town. It's probably better for my sanity that I never saw what it was that came from the door.
A few things once I got back to my dorm. First, I did a search on the lines from the letter (which seems to have disappeared when I left Lacrima). It's from a choral piece called "The Awakening". No idea what that was about. The other thing was that the hitchhiker type was still outside my dorm. He hadn't moved at all from last week. That probably isn't good. Anywhat...
No more interstate night driving. Never again.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Things Happen in Threes
Some time ago, I mentioned a bracelet I had made which carried a curse or somesuch. Blah blah blah it concentrates negativity in people blah blah blah. I have now come to find myself in possession of two other objects which are likewise bedeviled.
The first, or rather second of the three, is my high school class ring. It seems to be given to roam. Two years ago, at the end of my freshman year of college, I put it in my jewelry box with my scouting medals and hadn't seen it since. Until two weeks ago. I bought my new (relatively speaking) backpack shortly before I returned to school last year. Two weeks ago, I found my class ring in one of its pockets. A bag which I had only had for one year and which had never been anywhere near my jewelry box (rather it was always at school or in my car's trunk for the Summer) suddenly contained a ring I hadn't seen much less touched in a little over two years.
Then it gets weirder.
I put it in my dorm room with the other unusual trinkets on my bookshelf. But then four days ago, it was there in the same pocket. Back to the bookshelf. Today, after my swimming class, the lifeguard approached me and asked if a certain class ring they had found the previous day by the pool was mine. And bloody hell if it wasn't. I wouldn't call it a true curse per se, but my class ring seems to have a very "One Ring" personality about it.
And then there's my "Brittney Glasses". They're a pair of rose-tinted frameless sunglasses which started at camp as a sort of in-joke (which I might share if I get around to it) with other staffers. I still wear them at school if I need a distinctive look or to get my creative juices flowing with an unusual view of the world. Today they started showing me things. In mirrored surfaces, I would get a reflection of creatures which were not there. Tonight, I've seen silhouettes of small animals move across campus only to take off my glasses and see nothing. I have excellent night vision and should have seen whatever they were without trouble with the glasses off. Just before I returned to my room, I saw a strange gentleman who reminded me of the Hitchiker I saw back in the early Spring standing outside my dorm. But only with the Brittney Glasses on. And THAT can't be a good omen. The problem is, I don't know if my glasses are showing me things that are there or are cursed to show things that aren't. I've had "the eyes to see" for a while and I don't really get why I wouldn't notice these things before, but there you have it.
Good Strange things happen in threes.
The first, or rather second of the three, is my high school class ring. It seems to be given to roam. Two years ago, at the end of my freshman year of college, I put it in my jewelry box with my scouting medals and hadn't seen it since. Until two weeks ago. I bought my new (relatively speaking) backpack shortly before I returned to school last year. Two weeks ago, I found my class ring in one of its pockets. A bag which I had only had for one year and which had never been anywhere near my jewelry box (rather it was always at school or in my car's trunk for the Summer) suddenly contained a ring I hadn't seen much less touched in a little over two years.
Then it gets weirder.
I put it in my dorm room with the other unusual trinkets on my bookshelf. But then four days ago, it was there in the same pocket. Back to the bookshelf. Today, after my swimming class, the lifeguard approached me and asked if a certain class ring they had found the previous day by the pool was mine. And bloody hell if it wasn't. I wouldn't call it a true curse per se, but my class ring seems to have a very "One Ring" personality about it.
And then there's my "Brittney Glasses". They're a pair of rose-tinted frameless sunglasses which started at camp as a sort of in-joke (which I might share if I get around to it) with other staffers. I still wear them at school if I need a distinctive look or to get my creative juices flowing with an unusual view of the world. Today they started showing me things. In mirrored surfaces, I would get a reflection of creatures which were not there. Tonight, I've seen silhouettes of small animals move across campus only to take off my glasses and see nothing. I have excellent night vision and should have seen whatever they were without trouble with the glasses off. Just before I returned to my room, I saw a strange gentleman who reminded me of the Hitchiker I saw back in the early Spring standing outside my dorm. But only with the Brittney Glasses on. And THAT can't be a good omen. The problem is, I don't know if my glasses are showing me things that are there or are cursed to show things that aren't. I've had "the eyes to see" for a while and I don't really get why I wouldn't notice these things before, but there you have it.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
I'm Back and Something's Broken
Good morning, boys and girls and culturally-specific third genders. It's been a while indeed, but I'm back. There's a lot to tell, but that, as Scheherezade would have said, is another story. I have been to four states, worked two jobs (one of which was almost literally the job from Hell), and seen things even I once though were impossible. I've taught turtles to fly, walked on water, and witnessed forgotten Native American battles. And I will tell those stories. Tonight, however, I have something different to say.
Of late, I feel like the world is changing around me. And not in that cosmic sense that the elderly and increasingly the middle-aged are portrayed to feel in movies and TV shows. More of a literal "something happened which did not actually happen at the moment it should have happened" thing.
It started small. People saying they had said things to me which I had not witnessed only moments before. It's easy enough to dismiss something like that. Maybe I wasn't paying attention. Maybe they thought they had said it. Maybe a third thing which fits in this line of reasoning.
Then bigger things started changing. The colors of friends' cars. Which key opened what door. And then tonight.
Tonight I was playing in a poker tournament my RA organized. It was a whole lot of fun and I was winning until the cards changed. I had a nine and a seven in my hand, on suit. The flop was laid out as such that there were two nines and a seven. I went all in. A full house; there was no way I could lose! But then the cards went fuzzy. I blinked a few times. Then we showed our hands. I should have had a full house, but where the nines once stood, there lay a king and a jack! (off suit) I lost the hand and the game. It was just a dorm activity so nothing was lost, but still. The scale and frequency of these reality changes are increasing. And I'm sort of worried.
Either that or I'm going crazy.
Of late, I feel like the world is changing around me. And not in that cosmic sense that the elderly and increasingly the middle-aged are portrayed to feel in movies and TV shows. More of a literal "something happened which did not actually happen at the moment it should have happened" thing.
It started small. People saying they had said things to me which I had not witnessed only moments before. It's easy enough to dismiss something like that. Maybe I wasn't paying attention. Maybe they thought they had said it. Maybe a third thing which fits in this line of reasoning.
Then bigger things started changing. The colors of friends' cars. Which key opened what door. And then tonight.
Tonight I was playing in a poker tournament my RA organized. It was a whole lot of fun and I was winning until the cards changed. I had a nine and a seven in my hand, on suit. The flop was laid out as such that there were two nines and a seven. I went all in. A full house; there was no way I could lose! But then the cards went fuzzy. I blinked a few times. Then we showed our hands. I should have had a full house, but where the nines once stood, there lay a king and a jack! (off suit) I lost the hand and the game. It was just a dorm activity so nothing was lost, but still. The scale and frequency of these reality changes are increasing. And I'm sort of worried.
Either that or I'm going crazy.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Phantom Cars and Drivers...
I regret not being able to post more, but this is the leprechaun's last tale. The fairy will be back soon, so here is my last tale...
Today's subject is phantom cars. I was driving down a main highway the other day when I saw one. Now I'd heard of these before, but I'd never actually seen one with my own eyes. That's why, when I saw someone drive through this car like it wasn't there I was sure of what it was.
A phantom car is really two spirits in one. A long time ago the horse use to be the main method of transportation if you wanted to get somewhere fast. When machines came along and automobiles were there to replace horses as the main transportation, some of them were angered by their lack of use. Nowadays horses exist for show or leisure and some of them don't appreciate this. When a horse dies without getting proper use they feel like their life was wasted. These feelings are sometimes so powerful that they hang on in this world. So when the spirit manifests outside of the body aftering dieing, the spirit takes on the form of what it hates most, the automobile.
Now for the second spirit, the spirit of a human that has a massive case of what other humans call "road rage." If someone gets easily angered while driving, this anger grows and grows until they become hateful drivers. This puts off a negative aura that the phantom horse cars love to feed off of. The phantom horse cars will usually try to get these road rage drivers into a car accident to kill them. The moment that human that suffered from road rage dies, the phantom horse car sucks their soul into the car and buckles it in with a seatbelt the driver can't escape from. At that point, the driver is doomed to drive the streets angrily inside this phantom horse car until that spirit is sucked dry of its energy, at which point it fades into nothing.
Phantom cars and their drivers usually don't come out into direct sunlight as it offers the least chance for a car accident, but on a dark night, or if its storming bad, you may see one. They usually ignore people who are peaceful while driving and prefer to seek out angry drivers to kill.
I experienced this the other day as I said I saw one, but I didn't pay any attention to the danger it presented. I'm not angry all the time, just at times when I'm driving. This almost cost me my life and very soul. You see, an angry soul from a mythical being such as myself provides even more energy and is more tasty than a normal human soul. That is why this phantom car and driver sought me out. I was frustrated with a semi driver in front of me that was driving side by side with another slow car and getting more angry by the second. I was already yelling angrily and flashing my brights motioning for one of them to pass the other, but they ignored me. This created a deeper and deeper anger until I felt my car being rammed from the left. The phantom car was trying to force me off the road!
Knowing exactly how much trouble I was in, I knew that I only had one chance to get rid of this rider. I reached into my CD rack and searched for the one CD that could change the outcome of this situation. I found my smooth jazz CD and popped it in just as the phantom car rammed me and put me into a tail spin. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply and exhaled as the jazz music worked its magic. I went off into a ditch, but when the phantom driver found me, I was in a state of calm and it couldn't sense any more anger to feed off of. Judging me as a worthless target, he sped off in a hurry. I got out of the ditch and headed for my destination as the jazz music continued to play. I had just narrowly avoided having my soul sucked into a driver's seat and spending the rest of my afterlife as an angry driver...
Let that be a lesson to you, don't fall into the temptation of road rage, the phantom horse car and driver will kill you for your anger.
Well that's all for the leprechaun, I'll see you around and be an inspiration to the fairy boy occasionally...
Monday, May 31, 2010
Movie Dust Bunnies~ The first Narrative from the Leprechaun Substitute
So, I'm the replacement for the usual blogger here. He asked me to fill in, because I'm one of his few supernatural friends in this universe. Allow me to introduce myself. I am "C" and I am a leprechaun. I know that might seem hard to believe, but knowing what all gets posted in this blog, I'm sure it isn't too big of a stretch for y'all to understand. Now due to some blood contamination I don't carry all the characteristics of a regular leprechaun that the legends have told over the years.
My ears are only pointy during the full moon. I'm actually rather tall at all times, and I'm not really a trickster by any means. Finally, I bear the appearance of a normal southerner and even use words like "y'all," truly a curse indeed....
I have some pretty big shoes to fill with the fairy gone to a summer camp (I mean really, he's risking his life by going out in the middle of nature... he knows what happens when a supernatural being leaves human population). Nonetheless, I'll try my best to tell you of my supernatural tales.
Now I'm sure you've all heard of the fabled "dust bunny". These creatures are in fact real. They live in the illusion of "dust" which humans just perceive as something that needs to be cleaned. Normal folklore has dust bunnies being tiny creatures, but this is false. The average dust bunny is actually the size of the couch. They just do a good job at dispersing themselves all over the building they inhabit to stay hidden.
Dust bunnies are actually the cause of much of the sickness in the world believe it or not. Think about all the bacteria they carry around with them in their dust piles, and if any of this dust gets inside of us, we're likely to become sick. Well unfortunately for mythical creatures, the dust from a dust bunny can be as lethal as a ring of salt, and last night, I almost bit the dust... literally.
Now with all the technology that humans have invented over the years, us mythological creatures have had to adapt. Dust bunnies are no different. With the invention of the moving pictures we like to call movies, they have found a new way to hide. The dust particles mix with the light particles as they are projected onto the movie screen. Then, they wait to jump out at unsuspecting mythological beings like myself.
Last night I was at the movies watching "The Prince of Persia" and already weakened from the extra salt the Burger King employee unwittingly put on my french fries, I was an easy target for these dust bunnies. It was dark, and I was too focused on the movie to put up any sort of defense against the dust bunnies that made their way inside my body.
I was sick the remainder of the night and nearly bit the dust until I found my bottle of purified spring water from the pools of Ireland. I slowly sipped this the rest of the night until I slowly cleansed the dust bunnies from my system. I was lucky, and that was all that saved my life... luck. Luck enough to have had the right cure for the right disease.
So let this be a lesson to you mythical beings and regular humans when you go to the movie theater. Watch out for dust bunnies.
Heck, you don't even have to be at the movies, next time you see dust hovering in the light from a nearby window, surround yourself with a ring of salt until the dust disperses and leaves to find a new victim. Until next time my readers, stay safe. The universe has plenty of beauties, each more deadly than the last.
As for myself, it's time to hit the old dusty trail until I can find a new story to share with y'all.
My ears are only pointy during the full moon. I'm actually rather tall at all times, and I'm not really a trickster by any means. Finally, I bear the appearance of a normal southerner and even use words like "y'all," truly a curse indeed....
I have some pretty big shoes to fill with the fairy gone to a summer camp (I mean really, he's risking his life by going out in the middle of nature... he knows what happens when a supernatural being leaves human population). Nonetheless, I'll try my best to tell you of my supernatural tales.
Now I'm sure you've all heard of the fabled "dust bunny". These creatures are in fact real. They live in the illusion of "dust" which humans just perceive as something that needs to be cleaned. Normal folklore has dust bunnies being tiny creatures, but this is false. The average dust bunny is actually the size of the couch. They just do a good job at dispersing themselves all over the building they inhabit to stay hidden.
Dust bunnies are actually the cause of much of the sickness in the world believe it or not. Think about all the bacteria they carry around with them in their dust piles, and if any of this dust gets inside of us, we're likely to become sick. Well unfortunately for mythical creatures, the dust from a dust bunny can be as lethal as a ring of salt, and last night, I almost bit the dust... literally.
Now with all the technology that humans have invented over the years, us mythological creatures have had to adapt. Dust bunnies are no different. With the invention of the moving pictures we like to call movies, they have found a new way to hide. The dust particles mix with the light particles as they are projected onto the movie screen. Then, they wait to jump out at unsuspecting mythological beings like myself.
Last night I was at the movies watching "The Prince of Persia" and already weakened from the extra salt the Burger King employee unwittingly put on my french fries, I was an easy target for these dust bunnies. It was dark, and I was too focused on the movie to put up any sort of defense against the dust bunnies that made their way inside my body.
I was sick the remainder of the night and nearly bit the dust until I found my bottle of purified spring water from the pools of Ireland. I slowly sipped this the rest of the night until I slowly cleansed the dust bunnies from my system. I was lucky, and that was all that saved my life... luck. Luck enough to have had the right cure for the right disease.
So let this be a lesson to you mythical beings and regular humans when you go to the movie theater. Watch out for dust bunnies.
Heck, you don't even have to be at the movies, next time you see dust hovering in the light from a nearby window, surround yourself with a ring of salt until the dust disperses and leaves to find a new victim. Until next time my readers, stay safe. The universe has plenty of beauties, each more deadly than the last.
As for myself, it's time to hit the old dusty trail until I can find a new story to share with y'all.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Medical Stealth
I know I said I wasn't posting any more until after I got back, but I don't leave 'til tomorrow and this was worth note.
I got my camp physical today. It's always fun going to the doctor. They always ask if you have any allergies when you check in and I always think: "Hmm... Iron burns, salt repels me, I'm compelled to count fallen rice grains, sunlight sensitive is an understatement, and ringing bells cause me a lot of pain.."
And then I respond: "Nickel gives me a rash on contact."
These aren't normal human allergies. I mean, they're certainly signs of synesthesia, contact allergies, obsessive-compulsion, and light sensitivity, but this particular combination? I'd sound like a hypochondriac!
On a related note, something occurred to me when I listed those banes in my head. Only certain things display such weaknesses.
This narrows the field considerably.
I got my camp physical today. It's always fun going to the doctor. They always ask if you have any allergies when you check in and I always think: "Hmm... Iron burns, salt repels me, I'm compelled to count fallen rice grains, sunlight sensitive is an understatement, and ringing bells cause me a lot of pain.."
And then I respond: "Nickel gives me a rash on contact."
These aren't normal human allergies. I mean, they're certainly signs of synesthesia, contact allergies, obsessive-compulsion, and light sensitivity, but this particular combination? I'd sound like a hypochondriac!
On a related note, something occurred to me when I listed those banes in my head. Only certain things display such weaknesses.
This narrows the field considerably.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
It's Been a While. And It Will Be Yet.
Things have been pretty quiet in my little college town for the past little while. The Seelie Court took over in full at Beltaine (about May 1). They don't like to deal with outsiders as much as the Unseelie so I imagine it will be a while yet before I get invited to meet with them. (And the next transitional period doesn't start until Lughnasadh (sometime thereabout August 1)). A pity, really. I had been hoping to get to know them more than my one weeklong dancing spree.
The end of the school year sort of snuck up on me. Thankfully, nothing decided to rear its ugly head in that time. Still, I had four monologues to learn, countless sculptures to make, and three legitimate written finals to study for. It wasn't difficult, but things were complicated somewhat when I got sick and missed one, the merciful rescheduling of which extended my tests another day and a half. And in this time, I got subpoena'd to testify against my old kiddie-perving demon roommate. No sooner did I get served, than the prosecutor's office called to tell me it's been rescheduled to July. So at least that didn't mess with my tests, like it originally would have (take place on the last day of them). On the bright side, I got 5 A's and 1 B. My cumulative GPA is now exceptionally high (over 3.7).
Moving out wasn't too easy. I got everything out all right, but my RA took forever to check me out and he always found more dirt where there wasn't any (which he attested to himself) before. I'm not gonna call that supernatural, but it was certainly annoying. Then I had to wait almost an hour outside the building where the Theatrical Art classroom is located to collect my supplies. It didn't take long to get them, but the waiting and having to inconvenience my professor didn't help my mood. Plus I had to transport the cursed bracelet which probably didn't help my day. Incidentally, I found a way to uncurse it and will do so by running it under moving springwater this summer, but I'll get to that in a minute. Then I had to go and sell my books back. For wholesale. But seeing how they're the only game in town, I was railroaded. I went back to my car to get a form to turn into the registrar and a seat full of stuff fell out. A lot of things broke and/or spilled. By this point, I was very, very annoyed and started throwing things in. Then something awesome happened. Objects started flinging themselves back into the car! Apparently I have telekinetic tendencies (but I haven't tried again since I calmed down, so maybe it's an emotional thing). It didn't improve my mood then (especially with all the other bad things that crossed my path shortly after), but it was pretty darn cool.
On a completely unrelated note to anything, one of my bestest friends in the Universe saw the first Faceless Lady. She was walking away from my friend and she heard glossolalic whispers coming from behind her. So now others have seen her and maybe we can get to know more about her.
I'm home now and like I said before, I'm not too involved in local fortean happenings. So things have been pretty quiet thus far. Next week on Friday, I'm going to BSA National Camping School and then on to work at Camp Orr until July 3. There's a lot of weird stuff out there and I hope to tell all about it on this blog when I get back. Until then, I've got a friend who's going to hijack this thing and tell a bit of his own goings on. You'll love it. I swear.
See you in July!
The end of the school year sort of snuck up on me. Thankfully, nothing decided to rear its ugly head in that time. Still, I had four monologues to learn, countless sculptures to make, and three legitimate written finals to study for. It wasn't difficult, but things were complicated somewhat when I got sick and missed one, the merciful rescheduling of which extended my tests another day and a half. And in this time, I got subpoena'd to testify against my old kiddie-perving demon roommate. No sooner did I get served, than the prosecutor's office called to tell me it's been rescheduled to July. So at least that didn't mess with my tests, like it originally would have (take place on the last day of them). On the bright side, I got 5 A's and 1 B. My cumulative GPA is now exceptionally high (over 3.7).
Moving out wasn't too easy. I got everything out all right, but my RA took forever to check me out and he always found more dirt where there wasn't any (which he attested to himself) before. I'm not gonna call that supernatural, but it was certainly annoying. Then I had to wait almost an hour outside the building where the Theatrical Art classroom is located to collect my supplies. It didn't take long to get them, but the waiting and having to inconvenience my professor didn't help my mood. Plus I had to transport the cursed bracelet which probably didn't help my day. Incidentally, I found a way to uncurse it and will do so by running it under moving springwater this summer, but I'll get to that in a minute. Then I had to go and sell my books back. For wholesale. But seeing how they're the only game in town, I was railroaded. I went back to my car to get a form to turn into the registrar and a seat full of stuff fell out. A lot of things broke and/or spilled. By this point, I was very, very annoyed and started throwing things in. Then something awesome happened. Objects started flinging themselves back into the car! Apparently I have telekinetic tendencies (but I haven't tried again since I calmed down, so maybe it's an emotional thing). It didn't improve my mood then (especially with all the other bad things that crossed my path shortly after), but it was pretty darn cool.
On a completely unrelated note to anything, one of my bestest friends in the Universe saw the first Faceless Lady. She was walking away from my friend and she heard glossolalic whispers coming from behind her. So now others have seen her and maybe we can get to know more about her.
I'm home now and like I said before, I'm not too involved in local fortean happenings. So things have been pretty quiet thus far. Next week on Friday, I'm going to BSA National Camping School and then on to work at Camp Orr until July 3. There's a lot of weird stuff out there and I hope to tell all about it on this blog when I get back. Until then, I've got a friend who's going to hijack this thing and tell a bit of his own goings on. You'll love it. I swear.
See you in July!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Faceless Humor
4/20 today. That means two things: 1) Marijuana smokers around the world have yet another reason to get baked. 2) It's Adolf Hitler's birthday. (or as I prefer to call it, "Holy Crap! It's Hitler! Day".) Neither are really any cause for celebration for me, but as anyone who knows be can tell you, all I need is an excuse to paint my face. And I must say that I make the "Egyptian Death Mask" look look good. There was something else that simultaneously tickled my funny bone and made me gasp in surprise.
It was the first Faceless Lady, the one who's always smoking the strange cigarettes. I saw her while coming back from a late-night jaunt to the store to get windshield wiper blades. She was under the taco joint's sign like normal. She wasn't smoking anything this time. In fact, I think she was just looking at me as I passed. It didn't register at first but then it occurred to me: She was wearing a Hitler mustache! No lie. It was on her not-a-face just below where her nose should have been. And, of all the things she could have done, she waved as I passed.
I do believe she's got a hilariously twisted sense of humor.
It was the first Faceless Lady, the one who's always smoking the strange cigarettes. I saw her while coming back from a late-night jaunt to the store to get windshield wiper blades. She was under the taco joint's sign like normal. She wasn't smoking anything this time. In fact, I think she was just looking at me as I passed. It didn't register at first but then it occurred to me: She was wearing a Hitler mustache! No lie. It was on her not-a-face just below where her nose should have been. And, of all the things she could have done, she waved as I passed.
I do believe she's got a hilariously twisted sense of humor.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
I Made a Cursed Bracelet (On Accident)
Magic is everywhere in our world. It exists in almost-nauseating amounts. It bleeds from everything humans have made contact with. Doubly so for things we consider important. One might consider it the inherent potential of anything once so imbued by the human spirit. For better or worse.
During the episode with my last roommate, I almost mechanically churned out little polymer clay charms. Mostly for practice. Sort of to while away the time until the police took action. Anything to stay out of my room when the cops showed. The waiting was killing me. A few of them were of my signature piece: a strawberry. I finally made something of a color-inverted strawberry charm on a chain bracelet last week. And it has been nothing but trouble.
As with anyone else, my negative feelings tainted my work.
Lo and behold! The bracelet is cursed.
Since I made it, myself and two others have worn it. Our moods have been endlessly dragged down and nothing but bad luck has followed the wearer. It's currently warded away in a jar of dried rosemary but I don't know how I'm going to get rid of it, or at least divest it of its curse. Or for that matter, what I should do with the other charms I made around then.
So much wasted clay.
During the episode with my last roommate, I almost mechanically churned out little polymer clay charms. Mostly for practice. Sort of to while away the time until the police took action. Anything to stay out of my room when the cops showed. The waiting was killing me. A few of them were of my signature piece: a strawberry. I finally made something of a color-inverted strawberry charm on a chain bracelet last week. And it has been nothing but trouble.
As with anyone else, my negative feelings tainted my work.
Lo and behold! The bracelet is cursed.
Since I made it, myself and two others have worn it. Our moods have been endlessly dragged down and nothing but bad luck has followed the wearer. It's currently warded away in a jar of dried rosemary but I don't know how I'm going to get rid of it, or at least divest it of its curse. Or for that matter, what I should do with the other charms I made around then.
So much wasted clay.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
A Disconcerting Procession of Demons
I mentioned some time ago, that I knew someone I thought might be an incubus. He's no worry now since he's now in Turkey to study bears. I also mentioned near the middle of last December that I literally had a roommate from Hell. It turns out that demonic roommates have been somewhat of a trend since I got to college.
My first roommate was human. A bit of a redneck, but not an idiot (which is nothing to bemoan, speaking as an Arkansas native). About two weeks in to the first semester of freshman year, he made a friend and wanted to switch rooms. The Housing office at our school screwed me over and, despite my protests, I was stuck with the other guy's roommate.
He was a nice guy. He was also one of those people who seems to smell funny (and sort of unpleasant to me) all the time. Which doesn't make sense since he was an almost painfully clean individual. Now I'm not going to call him a demon, per se, but he struck me like a river spirit with junk in the trunk (if you'll pardon the Miyazaki pun). He displayed a metanormal nature in that he seems to amplify the tendency of things to equalize. Things neither failed nor resoundingly succeeded in his presence. We got on amicably for a the rest of the year.
I didn't have such luck after that.
The next year, I ended up with a self-avowed bipolar redneck who liked to show me his "skinnin' knives". Not a bad guy, but something struck me as wrong about him. A little testing and research and I found out what it was. It seems that my third roommate was a lower-level demonic entity attached to the slaughter of animals. I doesn't do to ward against your roommate, so I changed rooms at semester.
The fourth guy was a ghost. Figuratively. I never met him, so I can't vouch for his nature. The fifth I have already detailed in a previous post and have no desire to relive that experience now. That brings me to the latest and (not-so-)greatest.
He claimed to be 34, living in the dorms. It didn't take long for me to have suspicions, but longer for me to act on them. It turns out he, like the one I met last semester, is an incubus. And he liked little girls. I finally acted on it when I walked in on him accessing certain content on the Glorious Series of Tubes. The Police were notified and they got working pretty quickly on the matter. Still, there was the matter that he was a demon to deal with. It took some work, but some silver chains (silver screws with just about everything but the Fae (which begs the question of what I am again)) and a strange Hebrew incantation later, he was arrestable (and will continue to be so until the designated authorities (in this case, the Police) release him from custody). I hate working proper magic, but a seal-and-binding was necessary to prevent loss of human life.
Back to topic (or tl;dr, as it were): all my roommates are demons!
I'm SO getting single next year.
My first roommate was human. A bit of a redneck, but not an idiot (which is nothing to bemoan, speaking as an Arkansas native). About two weeks in to the first semester of freshman year, he made a friend and wanted to switch rooms. The Housing office at our school screwed me over and, despite my protests, I was stuck with the other guy's roommate.
He was a nice guy. He was also one of those people who seems to smell funny (and sort of unpleasant to me) all the time. Which doesn't make sense since he was an almost painfully clean individual. Now I'm not going to call him a demon, per se, but he struck me like a river spirit with junk in the trunk (if you'll pardon the Miyazaki pun). He displayed a metanormal nature in that he seems to amplify the tendency of things to equalize. Things neither failed nor resoundingly succeeded in his presence. We got on amicably for a the rest of the year.
I didn't have such luck after that.
The next year, I ended up with a self-avowed bipolar redneck who liked to show me his "skinnin' knives". Not a bad guy, but something struck me as wrong about him. A little testing and research and I found out what it was. It seems that my third roommate was a lower-level demonic entity attached to the slaughter of animals. I doesn't do to ward against your roommate, so I changed rooms at semester.
The fourth guy was a ghost. Figuratively. I never met him, so I can't vouch for his nature. The fifth I have already detailed in a previous post and have no desire to relive that experience now. That brings me to the latest and (not-so-)greatest.
He claimed to be 34, living in the dorms. It didn't take long for me to have suspicions, but longer for me to act on them. It turns out he, like the one I met last semester, is an incubus. And he liked little girls. I finally acted on it when I walked in on him accessing certain content on the Glorious Series of Tubes. The Police were notified and they got working pretty quickly on the matter. Still, there was the matter that he was a demon to deal with. It took some work, but some silver chains (silver screws with just about everything but the Fae (which begs the question of what I am again)) and a strange Hebrew incantation later, he was arrestable (and will continue to be so until the designated authorities (in this case, the Police) release him from custody). I hate working proper magic, but a seal-and-binding was necessary to prevent loss of human life.
Back to topic (or tl;dr, as it were): all my roommates are demons!
I'm SO getting single next year.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
An Analysis of the Visions
I've done some thinking about the visions the hitchhiker forced on me yesterday.
The starry sky. Night obviously. No clouds. The stars were bright against the black sky. The Milky Way was clearly visible so the view was a way from bright lights, probably away from the city.
The room full of sleeping people. They were dressed as normal people. Just adults. There were aisles of things so I assume it was a market of some kind.
The first Faceless Lady atop a car. She's standing up and it looked like she was looking around for something (or so I assume being unable to follow her lack of eyes). She was dressed as she always is, a windbreaker with its hood up and jeans. Something about her suggests she's expecting something to happen. Uncharacteristically, she isn't smoking. Against her stood a backdrop of a few indistinguishable trees and the same starry sky. The car was white but otherwise nondescript. I don't know (or care) anything about car models so I don't really know anything else about it.
The image of a gentleman and then myself, arms raised, against a storm. That's a curious one, indeed. I once knew a guy (who sort of reminded me of my brother) who could direct the weather by singing or playing a bass guitar, but that was about a year before I arrived here. And he was very much from another Place. (That story will have to be told eventually) The storm was, well, stormy and dark (sans the lightning) so I assume that it, too, was at night. As for the bit about myself against the storm, no idea.
A pack of small dogs surrounding a skeletal figure. The dogs were mostly chihuahuas, but all pretty much all toy breeds. Their hackles were raised and it looked as though they were planning to pounce en masse. As to the figure itself, it was humanoid and genuinely looked like a charred skeleton cowering against them all. It had no face that I could see so much as a skull-like visage which bore the traditional rictus grin. They were on pavement which looked somewhat damp. A pool of light surrounded the figure and the dog, but outside it was dark. Another night scene.
The hitchhiker's words. "You are armed for the night ahead." No idea what that means, but all of the visions were of apparent night scenes (excepting the sleeping people). So I have no real idea what connects all these scenes, except perhaps the referenced night itself. And I don't even know if it means a literal or metaphorical night at that. Strange things, though. Sleepers out of place. A man, myself, and a storm (and I don't really get along with those). The first Faceless Lady out and about. Dogs and a skeleton.
Something is on its way. And I think I'm scared.
The starry sky. Night obviously. No clouds. The stars were bright against the black sky. The Milky Way was clearly visible so the view was a way from bright lights, probably away from the city.
The room full of sleeping people. They were dressed as normal people. Just adults. There were aisles of things so I assume it was a market of some kind.
The first Faceless Lady atop a car. She's standing up and it looked like she was looking around for something (or so I assume being unable to follow her lack of eyes). She was dressed as she always is, a windbreaker with its hood up and jeans. Something about her suggests she's expecting something to happen. Uncharacteristically, she isn't smoking. Against her stood a backdrop of a few indistinguishable trees and the same starry sky. The car was white but otherwise nondescript. I don't know (or care) anything about car models so I don't really know anything else about it.
The image of a gentleman and then myself, arms raised, against a storm. That's a curious one, indeed. I once knew a guy (who sort of reminded me of my brother) who could direct the weather by singing or playing a bass guitar, but that was about a year before I arrived here. And he was very much from another Place. (That story will have to be told eventually) The storm was, well, stormy and dark (sans the lightning) so I assume that it, too, was at night. As for the bit about myself against the storm, no idea.
A pack of small dogs surrounding a skeletal figure. The dogs were mostly chihuahuas, but all pretty much all toy breeds. Their hackles were raised and it looked as though they were planning to pounce en masse. As to the figure itself, it was humanoid and genuinely looked like a charred skeleton cowering against them all. It had no face that I could see so much as a skull-like visage which bore the traditional rictus grin. They were on pavement which looked somewhat damp. A pool of light surrounded the figure and the dog, but outside it was dark. Another night scene.
The hitchhiker's words. "You are armed for the night ahead." No idea what that means, but all of the visions were of apparent night scenes (excepting the sleeping people). So I have no real idea what connects all these scenes, except perhaps the referenced night itself. And I don't even know if it means a literal or metaphorical night at that. Strange things, though. Sleepers out of place. A man, myself, and a storm (and I don't really get along with those). The first Faceless Lady out and about. Dogs and a skeleton.
Something is on its way. And I think I'm scared.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Time Dilation, a Shadow Hitchhiker, and Vagrant Prophecy (I think...)
Strange happenings today.
First, I lost an hour in a 3 minute walk. I had woken up about 8 and my first class was at 9. Slow going, but I was out of bed by 8:20 and ready with about 7 minutes to spare. No worries. Just a quick jaunt across campus. So I gathered my books and set off. And three minutes later, I strolled a bit late into my class.
Except it wasn't my class. I came in to unfamiliar students and an unfamiliar instructor. Awkward silence followed as all eyes turned to me. A hasty apology later, I was out in the hall checking my watch.
10:06 A.M.
I left my room about 9, so that meant I had lost about an hour in the three minutes the walk took. And I have no idea how.
The second strange phenomenon I witnessed was on the Interstate. I was on my way home for Easter. I was going a bit slower that perhaps necessary, but the clouds (and the forecast) just screamed rain and before today, I hadn't ever driven on the Interstate in the rain. Paranoia guided my hands. It seemed like there was a hitchhiker standing at each exit I passed. At first it struck me as odd since I hadn't seen a hitchhiker ever before in my life before March this year. It took a while before I realized what was really so unusual about it: they were all the same person!
The rain finally hit and forced me off the road in a small town. While waiting for the rain to subside, I heard a tap on the passenger side window. I looked over from my book to find the hitchhiker standing outside the car. There wasn't any apparent menace (unlike that last Faceless Lady) so I rolled the window down just a crack.
"Can I help you?"
"There isn't time."
Then he reached through the solid safety glass as though it were water and touched a fingertip to my forehead.
A starry sky. A room full of sleeping people. The first faceless lady standing atop a car. A gentleman with arms raised against a backdrop of a raging storm. Myself in the same position. A pack of small dogs surrounding a skeletal figure, mostly chihuahuas. The hitchhiker's voice echoed "You are armed for the night ahead."
When I came to, the storm had subsided (for a while at least) and the hitchhiker was gone. I pondered (I love that word) the vision on the short drive home. I still don't know what they mean.
An analysis must follow.
First, I lost an hour in a 3 minute walk. I had woken up about 8 and my first class was at 9. Slow going, but I was out of bed by 8:20 and ready with about 7 minutes to spare. No worries. Just a quick jaunt across campus. So I gathered my books and set off. And three minutes later, I strolled a bit late into my class.
Except it wasn't my class. I came in to unfamiliar students and an unfamiliar instructor. Awkward silence followed as all eyes turned to me. A hasty apology later, I was out in the hall checking my watch.
10:06 A.M.
I left my room about 9, so that meant I had lost about an hour in the three minutes the walk took. And I have no idea how.
The second strange phenomenon I witnessed was on the Interstate. I was on my way home for Easter. I was going a bit slower that perhaps necessary, but the clouds (and the forecast) just screamed rain and before today, I hadn't ever driven on the Interstate in the rain. Paranoia guided my hands. It seemed like there was a hitchhiker standing at each exit I passed. At first it struck me as odd since I hadn't seen a hitchhiker ever before in my life before March this year. It took a while before I realized what was really so unusual about it: they were all the same person!
The rain finally hit and forced me off the road in a small town. While waiting for the rain to subside, I heard a tap on the passenger side window. I looked over from my book to find the hitchhiker standing outside the car. There wasn't any apparent menace (unlike that last Faceless Lady) so I rolled the window down just a crack.
"Can I help you?"
"There isn't time."
Then he reached through the solid safety glass as though it were water and touched a fingertip to my forehead.
A starry sky. A room full of sleeping people. The first faceless lady standing atop a car. A gentleman with arms raised against a backdrop of a raging storm. Myself in the same position. A pack of small dogs surrounding a skeletal figure, mostly chihuahuas. The hitchhiker's voice echoed "You are armed for the night ahead."
When I came to, the storm had subsided (for a while at least) and the hitchhiker was gone. I pondered (I love that word) the vision on the short drive home. I still don't know what they mean.
An analysis must follow.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
You Can Fly, You Can Fly, You Can Fly!
I did it! I managed to do it again! Four times, in fact. I just have to clear my mind and the wings fade into existence. It's awesome!
But I still don't know what I am.
Eh, it was appropriate.
But I still don't know what I am.
Eh, it was appropriate.
Monday, February 15, 2010
A Third Faceless Lady and the Secret of Flight
I still have no idea what happened this time. I was at a friend's apartment just off campus. It was our annual Valentine's "Make food and watch cult movies" night. I was walking through the parking lot when I saw her. She was standing there, wearing a parka and wind pants. The hood was up so I couldn't see her hair. And she didn't have a face.
It was another faceless lady, but this one was different from the other two. For the first time, her attention was focused on me. I couldn't tell by eye contact or anything like that for obvious reasons, but I could just tell her focus was on me. It was a little strange, but nothing felt like I was in danger.
Wrong.
Without warning, she darted behind one of the cars. I was a bit confused until she leaped out from behind another and straight at me. Her aura had become visible as a set of glowing purple claws at the end of each gloved finger. Don't ask me how I managed, but she sailed over my head just as I moved to duck. She hit the car to my left (and it wasn't pretty). Suffice it to say that I ran. I ran at speeds I didn't know were possible to my legs. I ran around buildings and through parking lots and across streets, the Faceless Lady closely pursuing me every step of the way. Finally, she had me cornered at a dropoff at the end of a gravel parking lot. About fifteen feet below was a small creek. A creek filled with very pointy rocks. Not pleasant. Still, the alternative was glowing purple evisceration at the hands of a Faceless Lady. So I closed my eyes and stepped off the edge...
And I didn't hit the ground.
It took a few seconds before I realized that fact. But I think I noticed when I heard a sigh behind me that Gravity had relinquished its grip. I looked over my shoulder. The Faceless Lady was staring(?) at me. Cue the iconic "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" staredown music. Then, out of nowhere, she blew away like dust in the wind. Think "staked Buffy vampire".
So there I was, hanging in midair. I looked down and caught my reflection in the low creekwater. Extending from my back was a pair of shining prismatic wings. They were pretty long and appeared to be made of disconnected tribal tattoo designs. Really quite breathtaking.
The point is, though, I was flying! Really flying! The feeling was indescribable! Utter and complete freedom. I just had to image where I wanted to go and I would fly in that direction. It was absolutely amazing. I flew about for the better part of the hour before I remembered I had class the next day. Quite a Mary Poppins moment: the thought literally dragged me down. So, I reluctantly flew back toward school and landed a little off campus. Can't afford to be seen by the normals and all. I hope I don't see that particular Lady again.
I wonder if I'll be able to fly again.
It was another faceless lady, but this one was different from the other two. For the first time, her attention was focused on me. I couldn't tell by eye contact or anything like that for obvious reasons, but I could just tell her focus was on me. It was a little strange, but nothing felt like I was in danger.
Wrong.
Without warning, she darted behind one of the cars. I was a bit confused until she leaped out from behind another and straight at me. Her aura had become visible as a set of glowing purple claws at the end of each gloved finger. Don't ask me how I managed, but she sailed over my head just as I moved to duck. She hit the car to my left (and it wasn't pretty). Suffice it to say that I ran. I ran at speeds I didn't know were possible to my legs. I ran around buildings and through parking lots and across streets, the Faceless Lady closely pursuing me every step of the way. Finally, she had me cornered at a dropoff at the end of a gravel parking lot. About fifteen feet below was a small creek. A creek filled with very pointy rocks. Not pleasant. Still, the alternative was glowing purple evisceration at the hands of a Faceless Lady. So I closed my eyes and stepped off the edge...
And I didn't hit the ground.
It took a few seconds before I realized that fact. But I think I noticed when I heard a sigh behind me that Gravity had relinquished its grip. I looked over my shoulder. The Faceless Lady was staring(?) at me. Cue the iconic "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" staredown music. Then, out of nowhere, she blew away like dust in the wind. Think "staked Buffy vampire".
So there I was, hanging in midair. I looked down and caught my reflection in the low creekwater. Extending from my back was a pair of shining prismatic wings. They were pretty long and appeared to be made of disconnected tribal tattoo designs. Really quite breathtaking.
The point is, though, I was flying! Really flying! The feeling was indescribable! Utter and complete freedom. I just had to image where I wanted to go and I would fly in that direction. It was absolutely amazing. I flew about for the better part of the hour before I remembered I had class the next day. Quite a Mary Poppins moment: the thought literally dragged me down. So, I reluctantly flew back toward school and landed a little off campus. Can't afford to be seen by the normals and all. I hope I don't see that particular Lady again.
I wonder if I'll be able to fly again.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
The Snow Tinks Strike Again
A bit of a short, un-eloquent update this time. The Snow Tinks struck again. Sunday night, we got more snow. It froze the roads and froze again a second time so we got two snow days total. All the while the Snow Tinks were out in force. Still nobody noticed them. Especially during the snowball fight we had last night at midnight. They were flitting about the warring masses, tossing snow this way and that. Everyone thought they were losing that fight. It was fun to watch, but I'm sure anyone watching me thought I was throwing snowballs at empty space.
But it's strange: why all the Snow Tinks all of a sudden?
But it's strange: why all the Snow Tinks all of a sudden?
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Super Bowl Voodoo
I watched the Superbowl with friends tonight. I don't get or like American football in the least, but I went anyway for the social interaction. Blah blah blah. The Saints win. I almost go deaf from all of the people thinking that if they yell loudly enough that they'll be heard all the way in Florida. For the fourth year running, I accurately pick the winning team and predict the winning score. Of course, the game was only half the action taking place on the field.
Someone in New Orleans wanted the Saints to win their first Superbowl. Anyone with the eyes to see would have seen Papa Legba, one of the best known of the Loa (which are as I have mentioned before the vodou gods), and Ogoun, loa of war, whispering into the coach's ear. La Sirene, wife of Agwe the loa of the seas, would lay hands on injured Saints players. Baron Samedi, the mischievous loa of death, and several of his Ghede redirected the ball in midair and knocked it out of players' hands on several occasions, most notably on an "intercepted" pass which led to a Saints touchdown. Even Erzulie Freda, loa of beauty and romantic love, got involved in helping whip the crowd into a frenzy.
This isn't to say that the Colts didn't have help. What appeared to be two djinni and an ifrit were present and working in their favor in the first quarter. Damballa Wedo, the eldest loa (who prefers a snake form), quickly froze the djinni and trapped the ifrit in a violet sphere.
It got pretty one-sided after that.
Someone in New Orleans wanted the Saints to win their first Superbowl. Anyone with the eyes to see would have seen Papa Legba, one of the best known of the Loa (which are as I have mentioned before the vodou gods), and Ogoun, loa of war, whispering into the coach's ear. La Sirene, wife of Agwe the loa of the seas, would lay hands on injured Saints players. Baron Samedi, the mischievous loa of death, and several of his Ghede redirected the ball in midair and knocked it out of players' hands on several occasions, most notably on an "intercepted" pass which led to a Saints touchdown. Even Erzulie Freda, loa of beauty and romantic love, got involved in helping whip the crowd into a frenzy.
This isn't to say that the Colts didn't have help. What appeared to be two djinni and an ifrit were present and working in their favor in the first quarter. Damballa Wedo, the eldest loa (who prefers a snake form), quickly froze the djinni and trapped the ifrit in a violet sphere.
It got pretty one-sided after that.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Snow Tinks and Dragons
Had two days of ice this past week. I'm sure anyone reading was aware of the Kansas+-sized winter storm that swept across the US last week. My part of Arkansas got hit pretty hard as far as the state's usual winter weather goes. Sleet the first day. Snow the second. I actually got snowed in at a friend's apartment on the second night. It didn't occur to me until tonight that it was anything other than ordinary. Tonight I saw the Snow Tinks.
It was foggy this evening as slightly-above-freezing temperatures caused the snow and ice to melt and the humidity was so high that it became visible in the night air. As I've said before, strange things come out of the mists. And tonight was no exception. I was walking the path around the outside of my dorm (looking for some headphones I had dropped), when it came out. It was large, in the European style of dragons, and looked to be made of paper and books. Not really surprising, it being a Sunday evening with so much unfinished homework about.
Like most dragons, it quickly zeroed in on me. And I, foolishly not having considered the fog, was unarmed. Fortunately for me, that was when the Snow Tinks arrived. All at once these little snow- white imps seemed to appear from all around and latch on to the dragon. The air tinkled with a sweet childish laughter. Within moments, the dragon was an ice sculpture of itself and the little creatures hopped off and went about their business, which now that I noticed them could see that it was a huge snowball fight. One of those snowballs went for me and I took it as an invitation to join in. I can't say that I won, but I haven't had quite so much fun in the snow in quite some time.
Now as to the Snow Tinks themselves. They're somewhat of a rare breed. Almost unheard of in North America. They're actually the strange crossbreed of a gnome and pixie (something about a "free love" movement in the 1700's from what I've heard) and they tend to bring snow and other wintry weather wherever they go. The name Snow Tink is actually a more recent development derived from their striking similarities to a snow white variation of J.M. Barrie's Tinkerbelle. The species' numbers have grown significantly since the race was born, but they mostly stay in Europe. One has to wonder what they're doing all the way over here across the pond.
But I'm not about to look a gift mouth in the horse.
It was foggy this evening as slightly-above-freezing temperatures caused the snow and ice to melt and the humidity was so high that it became visible in the night air. As I've said before, strange things come out of the mists. And tonight was no exception. I was walking the path around the outside of my dorm (looking for some headphones I had dropped), when it came out. It was large, in the European style of dragons, and looked to be made of paper and books. Not really surprising, it being a Sunday evening with so much unfinished homework about.
Like most dragons, it quickly zeroed in on me. And I, foolishly not having considered the fog, was unarmed. Fortunately for me, that was when the Snow Tinks arrived. All at once these little snow- white imps seemed to appear from all around and latch on to the dragon. The air tinkled with a sweet childish laughter. Within moments, the dragon was an ice sculpture of itself and the little creatures hopped off and went about their business, which now that I noticed them could see that it was a huge snowball fight. One of those snowballs went for me and I took it as an invitation to join in. I can't say that I won, but I haven't had quite so much fun in the snow in quite some time.
Now as to the Snow Tinks themselves. They're somewhat of a rare breed. Almost unheard of in North America. They're actually the strange crossbreed of a gnome and pixie (something about a "free love" movement in the 1700's from what I've heard) and they tend to bring snow and other wintry weather wherever they go. The name Snow Tink is actually a more recent development derived from their striking similarities to a snow white variation of J.M. Barrie's Tinkerbelle. The species' numbers have grown significantly since the race was born, but they mostly stay in Europe. One has to wonder what they're doing all the way over here across the pond.
But I'm not about to look a gift mouth in the horse.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Highway to Hell
I was driving back to school last night from my hometown. The doctor's appointment ran long and as I had worried, I wasn't going to get back before dark. I was sort of worried. I hadn't ever driven on the interstate at night before and to tell the truth I'm not a very good driver to begin with. To my surprise, things went surprisingly well. That is, until the point which I found myself on the Shadow Highway.
I'm not sure when it happened, but suddenly I was acutely aware that I wasn't on any stretch of the Interstate that I recognized. At first, I passed it off as never having seen it at night before. An understandable conclusion. Except then I passed my first exit. A town called "Cruciatus". Incidentally, there is no such place in Arkansas. And then came the deer-things.
They appeared against the myriad trees which edged the road on both this and the normal highway. Any time of year, it's not unlikely one will see a deer streaking across this particular stretch of highway at nice. I first noticed their emaciated frames, the ribs that stuck out against patchily-furred skin, their spindly legs which ended in threatening points... But that wasn't the scariest thing. No. It was their heads. The portion near the neck was deer-like enough. But the closer you got the the nose, the more they resembled the head of a female dobsonfly. And I don't want to think of why, but there were blood-colored stains all over the mandibles. The worst part, though, were the eyes. They would watch me as I passed, gleaming with strange alien intelligence behind them.
It was all I could do to not pull over and mentally break down. I kept driving and eventually reached a stretch of highway where the deer stopped appearing. So did the disturbing signs. I thought that maybe I had somehow made my way back to the highway I knew and was still completely terrified of for understandable reasons. No such luck. I hadn't occurred to me that there weren't any other vehicles on the highway with me. Ironically, the second I realized it, I was immediately aware of lights of two semis filling both the lanes behind me. They were coming upon me really quickly and when they looked to be overtaking me, probably just to spite me, they burst into flames. Clearly I've survived or I wouldn't be writing this, but I spent the next two hours pushing 100 MPH passing exit signs, each with a more horrifying name than the last. Finally, as the needle dipped just below 1/4 tank of gas, a miracle happened. I saw my exit. I pulled off with reflexes I hitherto hadn't been aware I had had before then. The semis barreled past where I had just been and I almost hit someone on the offramp but dammit I was safe.
And THEN I pulled over and psychologically broke down.
I'm not sure when it happened, but suddenly I was acutely aware that I wasn't on any stretch of the Interstate that I recognized. At first, I passed it off as never having seen it at night before. An understandable conclusion. Except then I passed my first exit. A town called "Cruciatus". Incidentally, there is no such place in Arkansas. And then came the deer-things.
They appeared against the myriad trees which edged the road on both this and the normal highway. Any time of year, it's not unlikely one will see a deer streaking across this particular stretch of highway at nice. I first noticed their emaciated frames, the ribs that stuck out against patchily-furred skin, their spindly legs which ended in threatening points... But that wasn't the scariest thing. No. It was their heads. The portion near the neck was deer-like enough. But the closer you got the the nose, the more they resembled the head of a female dobsonfly. And I don't want to think of why, but there were blood-colored stains all over the mandibles. The worst part, though, were the eyes. They would watch me as I passed, gleaming with strange alien intelligence behind them.
It was all I could do to not pull over and mentally break down. I kept driving and eventually reached a stretch of highway where the deer stopped appearing. So did the disturbing signs. I thought that maybe I had somehow made my way back to the highway I knew and was still completely terrified of for understandable reasons. No such luck. I hadn't occurred to me that there weren't any other vehicles on the highway with me. Ironically, the second I realized it, I was immediately aware of lights of two semis filling both the lanes behind me. They were coming upon me really quickly and when they looked to be overtaking me, probably just to spite me, they burst into flames. Clearly I've survived or I wouldn't be writing this, but I spent the next two hours pushing 100 MPH passing exit signs, each with a more horrifying name than the last. Finally, as the needle dipped just below 1/4 tank of gas, a miracle happened. I saw my exit. I pulled off with reflexes I hitherto hadn't been aware I had had before then. The semis barreled past where I had just been and I almost hit someone on the offramp but dammit I was safe.
And THEN I pulled over and psychologically broke down.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Dragons in the Mists and Shadow Highways
It was foggy out this morning. The entire campus was shrouded in thick fog. It was kind of nice but I was a bit worried that I would run into a dragon on my way to class.
Dragons are imaginary. They weren't always. The naturally-occurring variation was wiped out in the dark ages by glory-seeking knights. But they are now (and that's another story, as Scheherazade would say). Regardless of what the old ones were like, the imaginary sort are generally intelligent but vicious and greedy. And they live in fog banks.
I dunno why. I guess it's something about the fog bank's "mysterious aura" and the concept still ingrained into our collective consciousness that "here there be dragons". They're weird, too. They seem to take whatever form of the most powerful emotions and thoughts around them. To that point, I've encountered dragons formed apparently of test anxiety, the color purple (but not the play), and Hello Kitty. They've all got weaknesses and things they can't do, too. Most notably, I was able to slay a large sulphur-breathing one on the Arkansas River two years ago by scratching it with a plastic fork (again, Scheherazade's excuse).
Mercifully, I wasn't attacked. But that leaves me the other thing I intended to bring up in this post. I sit now at the doctor's office in my home town. It's a surgery followup, but I'm sure I'm fine. Anywhat, my home is some 80 miles from my university. It's a bit of a drive. And though I've become more comfortable driving on the interstate, I'm still a pretty paranoid driver when I'm on it. That self-induced heightened awareness paid off today when I noticed something running alongside my own stretch of highway. It was another set of roads I hadn't ever noticed before. It wasn't the opposite direction's lanes, because that's always been to my left. This path was on the right. Before I knew it, the second highway was running off the ground without any support, sometimes parallel to me, sometimes perpendicular to my own, sometimes running the other way entirely. Oddly enough, I didn't see any vehicles or on ramps and off ramps. And LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE, nobody seemed to notice.
This warrants further study.
Dragons are imaginary. They weren't always. The naturally-occurring variation was wiped out in the dark ages by glory-seeking knights. But they are now (and that's another story, as Scheherazade would say). Regardless of what the old ones were like, the imaginary sort are generally intelligent but vicious and greedy. And they live in fog banks.
I dunno why. I guess it's something about the fog bank's "mysterious aura" and the concept still ingrained into our collective consciousness that "here there be dragons". They're weird, too. They seem to take whatever form of the most powerful emotions and thoughts around them. To that point, I've encountered dragons formed apparently of test anxiety, the color purple (but not the play), and Hello Kitty. They've all got weaknesses and things they can't do, too. Most notably, I was able to slay a large sulphur-breathing one on the Arkansas River two years ago by scratching it with a plastic fork (again, Scheherazade's excuse).
Mercifully, I wasn't attacked. But that leaves me the other thing I intended to bring up in this post. I sit now at the doctor's office in my home town. It's a surgery followup, but I'm sure I'm fine. Anywhat, my home is some 80 miles from my university. It's a bit of a drive. And though I've become more comfortable driving on the interstate, I'm still a pretty paranoid driver when I'm on it. That self-induced heightened awareness paid off today when I noticed something running alongside my own stretch of highway. It was another set of roads I hadn't ever noticed before. It wasn't the opposite direction's lanes, because that's always been to my left. This path was on the right. Before I knew it, the second highway was running off the ground without any support, sometimes parallel to me, sometimes perpendicular to my own, sometimes running the other way entirely. Oddly enough, I didn't see any vehicles or on ramps and off ramps. And LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE, nobody seemed to notice.
This warrants further study.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Haiti and a Friendly Reminder/Warning
The sound of the facetious slow clap fills the air as I write this. As I'm sure you readers know, an insanely powerful earthquake has struck Haiti in the past few days. Anywhere from 30,000 to 100,000 people have been shuffled from this mortal coil and many more are hurt, mentally, emotionally, or physically. Many are still missing. I'm not saying for sure, but I can't help but think something else seriously bad went down.
I've been consulting some of my not-quite-human contacts and they say that at the time of the quake, something similar swept across the spiritual overlay of the southeastern US. Their guess is that someone tried to summon something they couldn't control. Something big. Something powerful. Whatever was called was probably vodoun considering the region (and that it doesn't work that way in Santeria). The likely culprit? Gran Bois. Loa of The Sacred Forest (of the Island Below the Waters (a.k.a. Guinee)).
Normally, he's pretty nice and generous if you pay the proper respect and tribute. He's also pretty proud of his unusually large, constantly erect penis. Just worth noting there. Like all loa, though, he can be "great and terrible" if things aren't done properly or he isn't paid proper respect. And a lot of loa also have alternate forms, usually "La Flambeau" (the fiery aspect) or "Ge-Rouge" (literally "Red Eye"), which are quite violent and dangerous variations. My guess is that something along those lines led to the massive earthquake and the only earth-aligned being I can think of that powerful is Gran Bois. I really feel sorry for all the other Haitians who are suffering or lost their lives for the folly of one or several summoners who didn't do their homework. There is no excuse for this. This kind of disaster can't ever be spun in a positive light. No matter what they stood to gain.
Great job genius! You almost sank the island!
This kind of crap is why Atlantis fell, according to some of the supposed survivors' accounts. "We're powerful magicians!" they said, "We don't need to seal things in a summoning circle!" And then they called something big which proceeded to eat them all and sink the continent.
Third Law of Magic: Never summon anything bigger than your head.
Gran Bois' veve.
You can do whatever you feel like to help the relief efforts here. Please do. They need it.
I've been consulting some of my not-quite-human contacts and they say that at the time of the quake, something similar swept across the spiritual overlay of the southeastern US. Their guess is that someone tried to summon something they couldn't control. Something big. Something powerful. Whatever was called was probably vodoun considering the region (and that it doesn't work that way in Santeria). The likely culprit? Gran Bois. Loa of The Sacred Forest (of the Island Below the Waters (a.k.a. Guinee)).
Normally, he's pretty nice and generous if you pay the proper respect and tribute. He's also pretty proud of his unusually large, constantly erect penis. Just worth noting there. Like all loa, though, he can be "great and terrible" if things aren't done properly or he isn't paid proper respect. And a lot of loa also have alternate forms, usually "La Flambeau" (the fiery aspect) or "Ge-Rouge" (literally "Red Eye"), which are quite violent and dangerous variations. My guess is that something along those lines led to the massive earthquake and the only earth-aligned being I can think of that powerful is Gran Bois. I really feel sorry for all the other Haitians who are suffering or lost their lives for the folly of one or several summoners who didn't do their homework. There is no excuse for this. This kind of disaster can't ever be spun in a positive light. No matter what they stood to gain.
Great job genius! You almost sank the island!
This kind of crap is why Atlantis fell, according to some of the supposed survivors' accounts. "We're powerful magicians!" they said, "We don't need to seal things in a summoning circle!" And then they called something big which proceeded to eat them all and sink the continent.
Third Law of Magic: Never summon anything bigger than your head.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Surgery, Psychoses, a Cuban, and a little Cosmic Skin Shedding (But nothing really THAT exciting)
The surgery went well. It was a reasonably minor outpatient procedure. Blah blah blah benign polyp in the sinus. I woke up with a sore throat from the "standard procedure" breathing tube, nauseous from all the blood I swallowed, and the-inability-to-keep-my-eyes-open-in-spite-of-the-fact-that-I-was-mentally-all-there-almost-immediately-upon-waking. Apparently I'm more resistant to anesthesia than I thought. I'm probably an expensive drunk, too.
Normally I hate hospitals, but this one was unusually empty. Of imaginary things, that is. Imaginaries take many forms. Most are shaped by human expectation. Pixies, gnomes, the immortal menace that is the Loch Ness Monster to name a few (eat that cryptozoologists!). Some are more primal, formed unconsciously of feeling rather than legend. Hospitals are usually just crawling with such beasties. People have fears and worries and hopes among other more complex feelings which make strange creatures. Negative emotions make nightmarish things come to life and the more positive end of the spectrum brings forth what is best described as cute and cuddly. Of course the former often eat the latter, especially when hope is weak, and they're not too common to begin with in such places. One of my imaginary associates calls the negative ones Nervosa. (I assume it's a nod to psychological disorder names.) They're generally not fun to deal with. Sometimes they become strong enough that they can directly affect the ones who helped form them. On one occasion, I had to help get rid of a particularly nasty one who stalked the wards of a childrens' hospital not too far from my university. The Nervosa in question took the form of a doctor ripped from the collective dreamscapes of King, Barker, and Lovecraft. He was made of and fed off of the fears of mostly surgery patients. But that is another story (though it is a thrilling one.)
Anywhat, this hospital was strangely free of Nervosa. I noticed three relatively minor ones in the waiting room and none beyond. It was rather pleasant. The hospital has a good track record, so maybe its reputation has other benefits. The way she was looking around, I think my mom noticed the fact too. But my dad didn't. Strange, since he noticed the gremlins back at Thanksgiving. (Side note: Are they both something other?) So yeah, blessedly free of scary things.
Recovery was reasonably smooth and the ability to breathe through my nose for the first time in a year was quite pleasant. That wasn't the best thing I got for Christmas, though. My family gave me some books (glorious books!) and I had the pleasure of giving them each a handmade gift blessed with a minor protection charm. My best gift, however, came on Christmas Eve night. Ever since my first encounter with the Jolly Old Immigrant I've been making sure to leave milk and cookies (and to make sure they're the good stuff) out. We've had a few random encounters outside the Season of Giving and have a friendly acquaintanceship going. Incidentally, it turns out Santa Claus does a whole lot more for the world than we give him credit for. Him and a mysterious gentleman with a strange thorny circlet. (Again, another time.) Anyway, he shows up, we enjoy a brief chat over the snacks, I give him a thank you gift and go to bed, he leaves presents, Christmas morning, rinse, (maim), repeat. This year, when I gave him his present (after all, a little gratitude is never a bad idea) he handed me one of his own. I kind of felt bad. I had given him a little handmade snowglobe which depicted the first time we met, but he gave me something way more awesome. It was a crystal tree topper actually made out of a star! I mean, he had actually gone through the trouble of plucking a shooting star out of the sky and refining it for me! I put it on top of our tree immediately (our old star had been retired this year). He also included a little bottle of starlight. "A little light," he said, "Is never out of place. Plus it doesn't run out of batteries." With that, we parted ways and went to go fulfill our Christmas Eve duties. For what it's worth, my family wasn't all that surprised about the new star (though they did think it was pretty), so I have to wonder if they saw it for what it really was. (But again, what are they descended of?)
The last major happening was something that occurs every year: New Years. Every year, people use the start of a new year to make resolutions and forge a new path for themselves. "Out with the old! In with the New!" as they say. Anyone with the eyes to see can see at the stroke of midnight wherever they are a sort of Cosmic Skin Shedding. The imaginary objects and markings people collect over the course of the year simply slough off, if only for a little while. Sometimes the ephemera dissolves into nothing an sometimes it soon enough reattaches itself. More than that, though, the collective resolution to change and become better, sincere or otherwise, actually makes the world around us shed much of the emotional and imaginary imprint we drop on it like litter over the year. Sometimes only for a while before things return to normal, sometimes permanently.
There's not really much else interesting. You see, with the exception of the odd gremlin or other critter, I'm not particularly involved in the preternatural going-on of my hometown. I arrived in time to go off to school and get involved there. It's kind of nice though. Christmas break is like a vacation.
Summer can be like solitary.
Normally I hate hospitals, but this one was unusually empty. Of imaginary things, that is. Imaginaries take many forms. Most are shaped by human expectation. Pixies, gnomes, the immortal menace that is the Loch Ness Monster to name a few (eat that cryptozoologists!). Some are more primal, formed unconsciously of feeling rather than legend. Hospitals are usually just crawling with such beasties. People have fears and worries and hopes among other more complex feelings which make strange creatures. Negative emotions make nightmarish things come to life and the more positive end of the spectrum brings forth what is best described as cute and cuddly. Of course the former often eat the latter, especially when hope is weak, and they're not too common to begin with in such places. One of my imaginary associates calls the negative ones Nervosa. (I assume it's a nod to psychological disorder names.) They're generally not fun to deal with. Sometimes they become strong enough that they can directly affect the ones who helped form them. On one occasion, I had to help get rid of a particularly nasty one who stalked the wards of a childrens' hospital not too far from my university. The Nervosa in question took the form of a doctor ripped from the collective dreamscapes of King, Barker, and Lovecraft. He was made of and fed off of the fears of mostly surgery patients. But that is another story (though it is a thrilling one.)
Anywhat, this hospital was strangely free of Nervosa. I noticed three relatively minor ones in the waiting room and none beyond. It was rather pleasant. The hospital has a good track record, so maybe its reputation has other benefits. The way she was looking around, I think my mom noticed the fact too. But my dad didn't. Strange, since he noticed the gremlins back at Thanksgiving. (Side note: Are they both something other?) So yeah, blessedly free of scary things.
Recovery was reasonably smooth and the ability to breathe through my nose for the first time in a year was quite pleasant. That wasn't the best thing I got for Christmas, though. My family gave me some books (glorious books!) and I had the pleasure of giving them each a handmade gift blessed with a minor protection charm. My best gift, however, came on Christmas Eve night. Ever since my first encounter with the Jolly Old Immigrant I've been making sure to leave milk and cookies (and to make sure they're the good stuff) out. We've had a few random encounters outside the Season of Giving and have a friendly acquaintanceship going. Incidentally, it turns out Santa Claus does a whole lot more for the world than we give him credit for. Him and a mysterious gentleman with a strange thorny circlet. (Again, another time.) Anyway, he shows up, we enjoy a brief chat over the snacks, I give him a thank you gift and go to bed, he leaves presents, Christmas morning, rinse, (maim), repeat. This year, when I gave him his present (after all, a little gratitude is never a bad idea) he handed me one of his own. I kind of felt bad. I had given him a little handmade snowglobe which depicted the first time we met, but he gave me something way more awesome. It was a crystal tree topper actually made out of a star! I mean, he had actually gone through the trouble of plucking a shooting star out of the sky and refining it for me! I put it on top of our tree immediately (our old star had been retired this year). He also included a little bottle of starlight. "A little light," he said, "Is never out of place. Plus it doesn't run out of batteries." With that, we parted ways and went to go fulfill our Christmas Eve duties. For what it's worth, my family wasn't all that surprised about the new star (though they did think it was pretty), so I have to wonder if they saw it for what it really was. (But again, what are they descended of?)
The last major happening was something that occurs every year: New Years. Every year, people use the start of a new year to make resolutions and forge a new path for themselves. "Out with the old! In with the New!" as they say. Anyone with the eyes to see can see at the stroke of midnight wherever they are a sort of Cosmic Skin Shedding. The imaginary objects and markings people collect over the course of the year simply slough off, if only for a little while. Sometimes the ephemera dissolves into nothing an sometimes it soon enough reattaches itself. More than that, though, the collective resolution to change and become better, sincere or otherwise, actually makes the world around us shed much of the emotional and imaginary imprint we drop on it like litter over the year. Sometimes only for a while before things return to normal, sometimes permanently.
There's not really much else interesting. You see, with the exception of the odd gremlin or other critter, I'm not particularly involved in the preternatural going-on of my hometown. I arrived in time to go off to school and get involved there. It's kind of nice though. Christmas break is like a vacation.
Summer can be like solitary.
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