I swear I am working on Something

In no context whatsoever I will drop upon you all a few sentences of what I have been writing. Brace yourselves.

The will-o’-wisp folded her hands and got right down to business. “I’m here, Sir Falcon, because I wish to serve apprenticeship as a sword-wielder under you, and I’d like very much to start now.”

Falcon’s main apprentice, who was in the room with them stowing Falcon’s gear, stopped and stared at the child like she was out of her mind.

(Because who needs context, right folks?)

Funny Poetry Take II

Another one of my iambic verses, about my little sis. My older sister used this on her tumblr, if you’re seen it before. Lik the Bred!

A cuddli child

I happen to be

and so for hugs

friends come to me.

but you should know

for caution’s sake

do not stand

between me and cake.

Thank you all for the amazing love and attention you’ve been giving me. Your comments and likes really make my day!

Over the Edge of the World

The fire flickers, and the light on your wings wavers.
I have a bad habit of staring at them until you catch me.
You don’t actually scold me when you do.
You just look
a little amused
a little reminiscent
a little confused.
You’re standing at the window, gazing up at the stars.
Let’s go out and watch them, you say.
Why, I ask.
Because it’s clear out tonight, you reply.
You catch sight of my dubious expression.
You creep closer.
Please, you beg, staring up at me through your eyelashes.
I hate you, I say.
We’ll get all wet, I say.
We’ll fall asleep and be outside all night.
But I’ve already given in, and by the enormous grin on your face
you know it.
After all, I’d follow you over the edge of the world.

I know I have an obsession with wings. It’s a problem.

The Starfleet Files: Ky

What would happen if you woke up and someone told you that the person you are lived a thousand years ago? What if you spoke a different language from what everyone else spoke? What if you had watched your best friend die months ago and people told you they had died so long ago that everyone had already forgotten?

Dear Someone,

I don’t know who I’m writing to, and I don’t know who this letter is from. I don’t know where I am, and where I’m going is a mystery to me. I barely even know where I’ve been. About a six months ago, for me anyway, Ky Rogers (that was me, I’m almost sure) was sent on a mission. Two months ago, I woke up in a bed that wasn’t mine, smothered with blankets and freezing cold.

I have no memory of going missing in action. But that’s what they tell me happened to Kylee Rogers, or as they call me now Krillian Rogherson, over a thousand years ago. They say Krillian Rogerson was a hero. I go back and look at it, and I’m laughing and dying inside when they say that. They’re lying. Gillim died. I can’t forgive myself for that.

They try to tell me that there’s no way  I could possibly be Ky Rogers, seventeen and a half, fresh off the cadet list of the Starfleet Academy, Star Alliance’s finest, every mission successful, perfect record, disappeared and utterly gone, and I’ve almost started to believe them. The part of me that is still crisp Lieutenant Kylee Rogers is swiftly disappearing and dying, and I need to tell you this story. Please remember. Please don’t let me die. I need to live. I need to make things up to Gillim. Please just keep listening.

I understand if you can’t help me.

Thank you anyway.

(Besides, I have the feeling my story is going somewhere bloody important. I think you might want to know about this.)

Yours Sincerely,

Lieutenant Kylee Roslind Rogers, Class of ’38, Star Alliance, MIA


And so it begins.

Authoring nonsense

Seriously, though, you guys would not believe how much I want to put glasses on the civilian version of my character Arven and make her into a teacher.

“Anyone here who has a brain, raise your hands. Okay, like wow, ALL of you have brains! That’s very impressive. That’s going to make teaching you science so mch easier. Because that’s all you need for science and math. Well, and some paper. Probably a pencil. A calculator maybe? And a science lab to blow up.”

ANd THEN I could put civilian Vivian into her class.

(Vivian’s kinda the sarcastic snarky angstless superhero kid whose parents know and like actually approve. *kapow, I just blew a couple minds there. Me making up less angsty chracters, who would’ve thunk.*)

Vivian on the superhero asociation she and Arven belong to: “It’s kinda like your ordinary meet and greet, just with more swords and fire and death and blood and ‘bleh I hate my life it’s horrific’ involved. On the plus side, also, way more cupcakes.”

Vivian on the normally absolutely horrible life most superheroes have: “I’m a superhero, just without the carp that most of us go through, like Arven’s life. I deal with way less of the ‘nobody like me everybody hates me I’m going to eat some worms.'”

Arven’s kinda scary when she’s not being a civilian so one of  the filterless superheroes makes her angry and is like ‘I’ve made the Sparrow Hawk angry and survived I am the man’ and Arven says this: “You have all the brains of a squashed termite.”

(This is really rambling, my computer is still down and all that junk, but thanks SO much for all the amazing support and love I have gotten, you don’t know how much that means.) Also, thank you for your patience and forbearance and God bless!

I Also apologize for any misspelling or terrible grammar, I’m doing his on my tablet, which is not very reliable.Have a great summer!

Life happened! Aa!

So. If you’ve been wondering where I’ve been for the better part of a month, I haven’t procrastinating, and I haven’t been dead.

My computer has been dead, and still is, so my posting activity will continue to be abysmal for a while. I’m so sorry about this, guys. Not just for you, for me, because I haven’t gotten to write so much since my computer has been being a *language*!

I apologize about it again. I might try putting a poem I wrote up soon, but it’s gonna be slow until we can either get the computer fixed or get a new one and figure out how to retrieve all my files (yes, because I didn’t really realize how serious I was about writing, everything is on the computer and not a hard drive, so please, please keep your fingers crossed and pray I can retrieve the odd 200 thousand or so words of various works I can’t get at right now.) (because it wouldn’t be a tragedy at all if I lost that much work, like two years worth.)

Yeah, I’m still freaking out about it.

Also, please pray for a friend of mine; she just lost her older brother to a motorcycle accident. She lost her father to a heart attack (I think) a couple years ago, so I can only imagine how she’s feeling right now. I hope she’s okay.

Eternal rest grant unto him Oh Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen.

Anyway, thank you for your patience and prayers and God bless you all, and have a fantastic day.

Favorite Books

This is a sort of thing I was writing and I thought you guys might enjoy hearing it.

Favorite book in each genre:

Romance: Any book by Dee Henderson. I’m especially partial to The Negotiator, The Truth Seeker, and True Valor. There are others, probably, but I can’t think of them just now. Also Pride and Prejudice (and Jane Austen in general).

Fantasy: Any of the Chronicles of Narnia (C.S. Lewis) (Edmund I love Edmund!) and my older sister’s fantasy stuff are the first to come to mind, but pretty much all I read is fantasy, so, you know, it’s hard to choose.

Sci-fi: Robert Heinlein. Anything Robert Heinlein. Great humor and clean. Also Madeleine L’Engle with her terrific time travel, kything (mental communication is the language of angels) and theoretic tesser stuff. The most accurate depiction of teenagers ever goes to her. (I swear, she’s like the only author who understands how teenagers feel sometimes.)

Dystopian: Haven’t read enough to choose.

Historical Fiction: Either Sun Slower, Sun Faster by Meriol Trevor (one of my favorite book friendships ever), Enemy Brothers (who loves these darling brothers, raise their hands!) [Dym] *privately freaking out over him* and Reb and the Redcoats (most innocent romance ever but still romantic and so sweet I’m gonna get cavities) both by Constance Savery, Under a Changing Moon by Margot Benary-Isbert (love this one, my heart hurts every time I finish reading it), or like, The Brothers’ War (My Side of the Story) by Patricia Hermes–okay, I need to take a breath. I’ve clearly established for you how much I love this genre.

Young Adult: The whole Meet the Austens Series by Madeleine L’Engle, because Vicky, Vicky, honey, you get me on so many levels–

Alright I clearly need to stay away from talking about my favorite books. I get carried away.

Clean and fantastic books. My best book friends which I can come back too. (Oh wait I forgot to mention The Borrowed House by Hilda van Stockum for historical and romance although there are a couple things definitely older subjects but nothing explicit or dirty really she’s just worried about her parent’s marriage. And Nazism.)

Complimentary Characters

So, y’all, you already know how I feel about Marvel (love it! Except for that horrible thing that’s been going around about making Cap a Nazi, I mean! Screw those people. Nazis are nasty.)

But I was thinking about it recently, and I realized why Peggy is the perfect compliment for Steve. I can sum it up with one line, quoted directly from the first season of her show.

“I know my own value.”

I know my own value. What does that mean? Well, if you look at it, it links directly to humility. This line is actually about humility. Why? A lot of people think humility is thinking you are worthless. It is not. God wants us to be level-headed, happy and rational on earth. Self-destruction is the last thing God wants from us. He doesn’t want us to be vain or proud, and he doesn’t want us to go to the other end of the scale of pride and hate ourselves. Self-hate actually stems from pride, if you’ll believe it. Self-hate thinks that we know ourselves so much better; if people actually knew us, they would passionately hate us. But unfortunately, for me, self-hate is so much harder to overcome than pride, because self-hate kind of eats at you.

Self-hate also brings out a sick kind of double-standard. Only instead of letting yourself get away with things you’d blame others for, you hold yourself to an impossible standard while allowing for everyone’s humanity but yours. You may even measure yourself by other people you consider to be better than you, without allowing for their flaws or the difference in character.

Pride is a horrible sin. It goes before destruction. But self-hate and self-contempt are destruction already happening.

God wants us to find a happy medium. To know our flaws and our qualities. To allow for our humanity, and to forgive ourselves, but to still hold ourselves to a high, though not unrealistic, standard. That’s what Peggy’s quote embodies. “I know my own value.” That’s the happy medium. Knowing your own value. Knowing that you are still given qualities, but are still fallible. Knowing that on your own, you will fail, but that with help, you can succeed. Knowing that you are a special person, unique. Reserving judgement for God, because human judgement is fallible.

Peggy is actually struggling with this double-standard thing in the course of the season of Agent Carter in which this line is used. This line signals a kind of completion. Peggy has moved on and stopped trying to hold herself to an impossible standard, but hasn’t let go of her high standards.

Steve Rogers has a much worse self-hate issue going on (poor kid.) It’s hard for him to let go of that. He holds other people to a standard, yes, but he abuses himself whenever he fails, etc, etc. That’s what can happen to compassionate people. It’s easy to slip into self-hate or to hold yourself responsible for other people’s pain, especially when you are empathetic. The trick to empathy is to understand and help without dragging yourself down in the same pit.

That’s why Peggy is such a perfect compliment for him. Because she knows what’s going on and doesn’t let it happen. ‘Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice.’ That line summed it up perfectly.

Some people just fit like that.

That’s what I try to achieve when writing friends; compliments. The way people just fit, the ways they fit and click. The way friends challenge you to be a better person, while still accepting the person you are just now. I also try to achieve that in my own friendships, in the real world.

Which of your friends is a perfect compliment for you?

A Farewell

This takes quotes from Doctor Who up to season 9. So, a warning for semi-spoilers? Not too bad, though, it’s only quotes.

It’s a poem, of sorts. It takes verses from Dylan Thomas ‘Do not go gentle into that good night.’ I didn’t write any of this, really. I just arranged quotes from the B.B.C. and lines from Thomas and a couple words. I also used a the name of a piece of music from Doctor Who (Together or not at all.)

Here are the only words I wrote; you can read these, at least, without any spoilers.



Hold my hand.







My friend

My friends.

Do I



My dear?

Goodnight, my dear, dear friend.

Here is the whole thing:

A Farewell

With Verses from Dylan Thomas

And a story

Do not go gentle into that good night



“Nice to meet you, Rose. Now run for your life!”

“You were fantastic.”

“And you know what? So was I.”

Old age should burn and rave at the close of day


“You’re completely mad.”

“You’re right. I’ll look daft with one shoe.”

“Barefoot on the moon.”


Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Hold my Hand


“What the hell is this place?!”


“Just save someone!”

“I think sometimes you need someone to stop you.”

Though wise men at their end know dark is right


“I’m burning up a star just to say goodbye.”

“I love you.”

“Quite right, too.”

“This is my last chance to say it. Rose Tyler—”

Because their words had forked no lightening they


“But he’s not you.”

“He needs you. That’s very me.”

Do not go gentle into that good night


“I spent all this time with you thinking I’m not good enough, but you know what?”

“I am good.”

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright


“I was gonna be with you forever.”

“Traveling, in the TARDIS. The Doctor-Donna.”

“Don’t make me go back! Doctor, I don’t want to go back!”

“We had the best of times. The best.”



“Help me.”

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay


“I’m going to die. Some new man goes sauntering away. And I’m dead.”

“I could’ve been so much more!”

“And this is what I get. My reward! It’s not fair!”

“I think your song is ending now.”

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


“People always say that.”

“Do I even look like people?”

“Trust me. I’m the Doctor.”

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

My Friend

“Raggedy Man! Goodbye!”



And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

My Friends

“Yeah, like I don’t know that.”

“Rory, she’s having an emotion!”

I’d wait two thousand years to protect you

“We got married and had a daughter and that’s her.”


Together or not at all

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Do I

“Oswin Oswald.”

“Doctor Who?”

“It’s smaller on the outside.”

“Run. Run you clever, clever boy. And remember me.”


“Yes. I can hear you.”

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight


“The clock is striking twelve.”

“Goodbye Raggedy Man.”

“When did you take off the veil?”

“When you stopped seeing it.”

“Or chips and coffee?”


Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,


“Not always.”

“Let me be brave. Let me be brave.”

How are you going to win

“Why can’t I lose?”

“I think it’s called ‘Clara’.”

“Nothing’s sad till it’s over. Then everything’s sad.”

“You said memories become stories when we forget them. Maybe some of them become songs.”

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

My Dear

Goodnight, my dear, dear friend.

Everybody knows that everybody dies, and nobody knows it like the Doctor. But I do think that all the stars all the worlds might just blink out if he ever accepted it.

Birthday Poem for a Friend

This is for my friend who is currently on a trip, and just had her birthday. Happy Birthday! If you see this now, hurray! If not, I’ll show it to you later.

Well roses are red

But violets aren’t blue

(more purple or violet, really)

This poem’s overused

I’m not even going to bother with a rhyme scheme

I’m just gonna say I love you.


Well roses are pink

And also white too

(Also blue and black and a ton of other colors but who cares)

You’re my best friend

That’s enough ‘cause it’s true.


Well sunflowers are yellow

And the sun kinda is too

(Well, technically, white and main sequence)

You just had your birthday

(You should remember to eat plenty of chocolate; you only have a birthday once a year!)

I really miss you.

Also, happy birthday, sweetheart.

My older sister ranted to me about the sun being green. Technically, the spectrum does peak in the blue-green, so she is partially correct, but the sun emits all colors of light, meaning it is white according to the terminology of physics. According to the astronomers, our sun is a yellow dwarf star.

Never mind me and my scientific nonsense. God bless you all, bye!