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I thought I'd toss in a fan fiction section here. Every week expect a new read. Great place to be if you're bored. This is one of my favorites I submitted for Garo's WCC: | I thought I'd toss in a fan fiction section here. Every week expect a new read. Great place to be if you're bored. This is one of my favorites I submitted for Garo's WCC: | ||
A New Beginning | |||
The | A light breeze swept the African landscape spreading dust particles to and fro. Struggling to see, Momo rapidly blinked several times in order to get the nuisance out of her eyes. It was unusually humid for this time of March and the village elders predicted a drought later that summer. The young girl entered the chief elder’s hut, her wrinkled orange-brown dress rubbing against the decorations hanging from the ceiling. | ||
The chief elder was revered throughout the village for his wisdom and perseverance. Momo remembered her mother’s tales about the man. During his younger days, he was the tribe’s general and a master tactician. Anticipating an enemy siege of the village, he ordered two month’s supplies procured and stored. Then, he led groups of men in building enormous wooden palisades, impervious to swords and arrows alike. The opposing soldiers struggled for weeks trying to break the village’s defenses to no avail. Without adequate supplies, they died of disease and starvation; the remainder capitulated without a fight. | |||
In his older days, the elder remained confined in his hut. He had grown increasingly detached since the death of his wife three years earlier. But his intelligence never failed him. He emerged from his abode on important occasions such as ceremonies or inter-village disputes to confer with the other elders. | |||
Momo placed the jug of water she had been carrying in front of the elder, bowing her head as a sign of respect. After a few moments of silence, the elder called in his son asking him to transport the jug to the hut’s backroom storage. The young man did as he was told. | |||
The chief elder then turned his eyes to Momo. He had always been fond of her mother-her practicality, precision, persistence, and this fondness carried over to Momo. The elder took another huff from his tobacco pipe and then proceeded to speak. | |||
“Daughter of the village of Mbanta, we are grateful for your services. May the gods reward you tenfold for your thoughtfulness in preparing for forthcoming hardships.” | |||
Momo’s lips formed a nervous smile. While she had been aware of the elder’s fondness for a while, this was the first time he had directly praised her. | |||
“Thank you, father,” she replied. “I must get going now. The day is still young and there are berries to pick.” | |||
The elder gave her an understanding look and with a curtsy she exited his hut. | |||
The harsh heat of the sun cut through the forest canopy striking the berry pickers below. Soaring temperatures curtailed the amount of time they would be able to work that day. Soaking the sun’s rays was nearly unbearable. | |||
Momo’s friends waved to her, indicating they were going home. She would stay for another fifteen minutes to finish picking a ripe patch she had stumbled upon moments ago. A glimmer of reflected light caught her eye. Stepping forward cautiously, she approached to see its source. The ground gave way underneath her feet. Her back collided with something hard and metallic. Turning around, she observed the edges of a chest poking up from beneath the dirt. It had several words etched in a foreign tongue. Momo thought about unburying the chest and presenting it to the elder but reservations tugged at the back of her mind, recalling the story of the fox and the lion her mother frequently told her. | |||
“Once upon a time,” Momo’s mother began, “all the animals were invited to an enormous festival to celebrate the coming of spring. Fox observed these preparations and discovered what they all meant. He overhead Lion, the King of Beasts, proclaim tender, juicy loins would be stored for the main course. Knowing Lion, Fox suspected the meal would be well guarded.” | |||
“Hello, old friend. Can you do me a favor?” Fox asked his ex-colleague Rodent the next day. Rodent and his species were looked down upon in animal society. They were accused of deceit, debauchery, and drunkenness. Well aware that Fox always had a solid plan, Rodent agreed to do his bidding-bypass Lion’s guards and steal the loins. In exchange, his species would receive half the spoils. | |||
But Fox had miscalculated. Lion was cleverer than he took him for. Traps were scattered across the room housing the loins and Rodent was caught in his plot. With Lion distracted, Fox sneaked in to claim the prize for himself but he had overestimated his cunning. In one ferocious swipe, Lion cut down the subversive thief. | |||
Observing the size and ornateness of the chest, Momo reasoned it belonged to someone of affluence. The ground it was buried in had recently been dug up so whoever had left it there was probably close by. The chest was too heavy for her to carry alone anyhow. There was no point in abducting it from its current location. She would inform the chief elder of her discovery first thing in the morning. | |||
As she made her way home, Momo heard the wind blow the canopy leaves. They appeared to be reciting a cryptic verse. | |||
End today, come tomorrow | |||
Journey, journey, journey | |||
Into the place where land is red and snow black | |||
Welcome to the Howling Abyss. | |||
Quickening her pace, Momo traveled into the blood red rays of the setting sun. | |||
Revision as of 22:44, June 17, 2013
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This user finds Calm Chain Chomps adorable. |
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Biography
I'll keep it succinct for now although I'll probably add more information later.
I was born in the city of Chicago and have lived in the adjacent suburbs ever since. Heck, I'm only ten minutes away from Mases. It's a small world.
I'm your typical average guy who strives to be something more. I've always wanted to be something more. This ambition comes as both a blessing and a curse.
While striving for self-improvement is an honorable end, it's spurred a crazed insanity in me. I try to keep tabs on everyone and am incessantly afraid that those around me are involved in some plotting conspiracy. This frenzy traditionally escalates at night.
I know that's not true, however, and I'm, trying to uncover my true self. *sigh* I'm unsure why I'm venting here of all places, in a public domain, a Zelda Wiki but sometimes I feel like I'm caving in and giving up is the easiest route. But I know I can't do that. That would be the weak way out.
ZD Time
I started using the main site in late 2008/early 2009. I came for the walkthroughs, stayed for the curiosity shop, and ever since have been commenting avidly on news posts and the forums. I now wish to make major contributions to the site wiki.
Fan Fiction
I thought I'd toss in a fan fiction section here. Every week expect a new read. Great place to be if you're bored. This is one of my favorites I submitted for Garo's WCC:
A New Beginning
A light breeze swept the African landscape spreading dust particles to and fro. Struggling to see, Momo rapidly blinked several times in order to get the nuisance out of her eyes. It was unusually humid for this time of March and the village elders predicted a drought later that summer. The young girl entered the chief elder’s hut, her wrinkled orange-brown dress rubbing against the decorations hanging from the ceiling.
The chief elder was revered throughout the village for his wisdom and perseverance. Momo remembered her mother’s tales about the man. During his younger days, he was the tribe’s general and a master tactician. Anticipating an enemy siege of the village, he ordered two month’s supplies procured and stored. Then, he led groups of men in building enormous wooden palisades, impervious to swords and arrows alike. The opposing soldiers struggled for weeks trying to break the village’s defenses to no avail. Without adequate supplies, they died of disease and starvation; the remainder capitulated without a fight.
In his older days, the elder remained confined in his hut. He had grown increasingly detached since the death of his wife three years earlier. But his intelligence never failed him. He emerged from his abode on important occasions such as ceremonies or inter-village disputes to confer with the other elders.
Momo placed the jug of water she had been carrying in front of the elder, bowing her head as a sign of respect. After a few moments of silence, the elder called in his son asking him to transport the jug to the hut’s backroom storage. The young man did as he was told.
The chief elder then turned his eyes to Momo. He had always been fond of her mother-her practicality, precision, persistence, and this fondness carried over to Momo. The elder took another huff from his tobacco pipe and then proceeded to speak.
“Daughter of the village of Mbanta, we are grateful for your services. May the gods reward you tenfold for your thoughtfulness in preparing for forthcoming hardships.”
Momo’s lips formed a nervous smile. While she had been aware of the elder’s fondness for a while, this was the first time he had directly praised her.
“Thank you, father,” she replied. “I must get going now. The day is still young and there are berries to pick.”
The elder gave her an understanding look and with a curtsy she exited his hut.
The harsh heat of the sun cut through the forest canopy striking the berry pickers below. Soaring temperatures curtailed the amount of time they would be able to work that day. Soaking the sun’s rays was nearly unbearable.
Momo’s friends waved to her, indicating they were going home. She would stay for another fifteen minutes to finish picking a ripe patch she had stumbled upon moments ago. A glimmer of reflected light caught her eye. Stepping forward cautiously, she approached to see its source. The ground gave way underneath her feet. Her back collided with something hard and metallic. Turning around, she observed the edges of a chest poking up from beneath the dirt. It had several words etched in a foreign tongue. Momo thought about unburying the chest and presenting it to the elder but reservations tugged at the back of her mind, recalling the story of the fox and the lion her mother frequently told her.
“Once upon a time,” Momo’s mother began, “all the animals were invited to an enormous festival to celebrate the coming of spring. Fox observed these preparations and discovered what they all meant. He overhead Lion, the King of Beasts, proclaim tender, juicy loins would be stored for the main course. Knowing Lion, Fox suspected the meal would be well guarded.”
“Hello, old friend. Can you do me a favor?” Fox asked his ex-colleague Rodent the next day. Rodent and his species were looked down upon in animal society. They were accused of deceit, debauchery, and drunkenness. Well aware that Fox always had a solid plan, Rodent agreed to do his bidding-bypass Lion’s guards and steal the loins. In exchange, his species would receive half the spoils.
But Fox had miscalculated. Lion was cleverer than he took him for. Traps were scattered across the room housing the loins and Rodent was caught in his plot. With Lion distracted, Fox sneaked in to claim the prize for himself but he had overestimated his cunning. In one ferocious swipe, Lion cut down the subversive thief.
Observing the size and ornateness of the chest, Momo reasoned it belonged to someone of affluence. The ground it was buried in had recently been dug up so whoever had left it there was probably close by. The chest was too heavy for her to carry alone anyhow. There was no point in abducting it from its current location. She would inform the chief elder of her discovery first thing in the morning.
As she made her way home, Momo heard the wind blow the canopy leaves. They appeared to be reciting a cryptic verse.
End today, come tomorrow Journey, journey, journey Into the place where land is red and snow black Welcome to the Howling Abyss.
Quickening her pace, Momo traveled into the blood red rays of the setting sun.