The Dance: Adelei

This piece some of you may already be familiar with, but I figured I would post it up anyway. It's from one of my more primary ideas were I ever to write anything extensively. I like it, just gives you an introduction to one of the characters and a small look at some of the lore and such in the world.

Series: The Dance
Segment: Adelei intro, later on

Stage: Rough

Times Through: 1 with some editing

The morning sun poured through the blown glass window of Adelei's quarters. Warm rays pierced the chilled winter air, lighting upon her elegant face as she lay under her fur bedding. With a grumble she stirred and opened her sky blue eyes. Yawning, she sat up and her blanket fell from her shoulders, leaving her nakedness only covered by her long, brilliant blonde hair that fell to the middle of her abdomen. Her full lips split as she smiled at the new day, revealing straight white teeth.

Smoothly she slipped from under her covers and stood on the cold stone floor, completely nude. Of average height, she was as slender as a rapier. Bumps raised all about her fair skin in the chilly air.

The room was large and elaborately adorned. Magnificent tapestries, portraying the history and feats of her family's reign in the Winter Kingdom hung about the stone walls. The white wolf's head in a deep blue field of the Mizael family crest, hung above the heavy wooden door across from her. Ornate furniture, all in matching white and blue, was all about; dressers, wardrobes, chairs, tables and couches. All fit for the only heir of Esdraelon.

Adelei drew in a long breath and closed her eyes. She reached out with her mind and touched the air around her. Instantly it responded with a familiar warmth and peace. She smiled, stretched out her arms, and gracefully pirouetted. The air followed her invitation to Dance and whipped around her with frightening ferocity in a miniature whirlwind. The tapestries and curtains all whipped and cracked in the violent tempest, as snow white feathers materialized in the air and coalesced about Adelei's body. The feathers gathered about her legs, waist, and torso, linking themselves together into a fabric. The wind died down and left her garbed in the blessing of the Wind Aeon.

The feathers from the great Eagle, Vashti, adorned her body as clothing. Though soft as snow, Vashti's feathers were as strong as chain mail. Flat-soled boots, stopping just short of her knees, guarded Adelei's legs. Feathery trunks sat snug about her hips, dropping to her mid thigh. A sleeveless tunic covered her torso, leaving her abdomen bare. The neckline was U-shaped, tracing just below her collar bones.

Flipping her hair over her back, she approached the large door to her quarters. A white hooded cloak hung from a hook next to it. The cloak was a soft white wool, with white fur along its edges, including the cowl. With an upward wave of Adelei's hand, wind billowed underneath the cloak and lifted it from its perch. It floated along the ceiling for a moment, then softly settled on the Wind Dancer's shoulders. She reached up and fasted the silver wolf-paw brooch and pulled the cowl over her head. The garment had been specially made for Adelei to match her Eagle Feather garb, the only place she could be seen without it was the training ring.

Invisible hands of air jerked open the door and she descended down a long, stone spiral staircase. The spiral was illuminated by sunlight shining through the frequent windows. Smoldering torches sat in brackets on the wall, likely extinguished by servants only moments before the princess' descent in herald of the morning. As she passed each window she glanced out at the monstrous castle of Wolfgard surrounding her, and the snowy forest beyond its massive walls. Adelei's quarters were in the top of the Maiden's Tower, at the heart of the castle. Ever since Damien Mizael conquered Esdraelon hundreds of years previously and erected Castle Wolfgard as his fortress, the Maiden's Tower and it's many rooms had been inhabited by the Mizael princesses. Now only Adelei's room was occupied.

Adelei had always longed for a mother to show her the ways of womanhood; but Lady Tonetta had died in childbirth and her father, Lord Tyron, was too grief stricken to remarry, leaving her the solitary heir of Esdraelon. So her father gave her to the noble ladies of the courts to teach her the ways of women. She spent her youth in magnificent gowns and tiaras, learning the courts, and entertaining suitors. As the Winter Kingdom's only heir, nobility came from near and far presenting her with potential husbands. But after her twentieth birthday, all of that changed.

Rift

This is a short little bit that I figured I'd throw on here simply for content if nothing else. It's a little idea I had when I asked myself "If I could make up a super-hero, what would it be like?" And Rift is who I came up with, the piece really doesn't do much to introduce you to the character, nor takes place in the actual timeline I hope to place him in later on, since my ideas of him have changed since writing this, but there are some things in principle that are the same, and if nothing else, was the writing any good? It's REALLY rough, so be gentle.

Series: Rift

Segment: Random, not associated

Stage: Rough

Times Through: 1

Rays of moonlight pierced the low cloud cover over New York City. The silver lances were lost as they fell amongst the brilliant city lights. The light, noise, and shadows blended into dizzying ambience; making the dark figure flitting amongst the rooftops go completely unnoticed.

The figure paused on the roof corner of a dilapidated office building in an older part of the city. The light from below seemed to fold and wrap about the figure, never actually touching it, leaving it barely discernible as a wavy haze. It remained still; waiting.

A man clad in a dark trench coat below broke from the sparsely trafficked sidewalk and headed down an alleyway between the decaying office building and the next. The alley was poorly lit and filthy, but the man paid no heed, he moved with purpose down its dank corridor.

The dark figure above moved as the man entered the alley. Almost in anticipation, it stayed perfectly parallel to his movements on the rooftop. The air momentarily rippled and distorted with its passing before reverting to normality.

The alley came to a four-way split and the man turned right, following the edge of the office building, oblivious to the dark lurker above. The space behind the building was wide and filled with trash and broken furniture as well as a few dumpsters. The man in the trench coat stopped in the middle of the space. After a moment a he began to hum to himself, a strange, almost dismal melody.

The humming stopped and several figures stepped from the shadows around him. He half-grinned as they phased into view. Even in the poor light, their bodies were shrouded in total blackness for a few moments before it passed from them; slowly, unnaturally.

Shadowmen.

Star Wars (Fanfic, how unoriginal of me)

Ah my first post! Yes, as you can see above, it's a fanfic, how depressing to start my blog with such. BUT, I figured I'd save my better, or at least my favorite, pieces for later, right? Well that's my plan anyway. But really my primary purpose in writing this, wasn't to come up with anything profound or special, just simply writing practice. Half my frustration with my writing is its poor quality, so I figure I should practice. This bit is particularly focused on making combative situations come alive and pop out at the reader, instead of a stale sequence of poorly described 'moves' the characters employ. Anyway, have a taste!

(Note, due to some of my stuff being written in Open Office, formatting may be off.)

Series: Star Wars Fanfic

Segment: Beginning: Chapter 1

Stage: Rough Draft

Times Through: 2

Foster dropped to one knee, panting from fatigue. His green lightsaber hissed and crackled as it scorched the stone floor of the ancient temple. His tattered and burned Jedi tunic and trousers hung loosely from his sweat-slicked body. Fresh lightsaber burns sizzled on his torso and legs, throbbing in blinding pain. He fought the impulse to retch for a moment before looking up at his opponent with teeth gritted in frustration.

Darth Sheol looked down on the fallen Jedi with cool confidence, playfully twirling his crimson lightsaber in his right hand. Shadows danced on his pale, smirking face in the temple's failing artificial light. Despite his youthful appearance, silver hair swept back down to the base of his neck. His black robes concealed his slender frame in darkness, barely visible in the dim light.

"That was a foolish move, following me here." The Darth said.

Foster cursed himself silently, agreeing with the Sith. In the heat of the battle he had acted rashly, with fiery determination to not let the dark lord escape. But now a massive obelisk had sealed him inside the temple, separating him from his comrades. The Jedi had hoped to ambush the group of Sith who set out to explore the temple the pair now stood in, and make short work of the formidable Darth Sheol. But they had underestimated the size of his escort, and were held back long enough to allow Sheol to retreat behind the impenetrable walls of the temple. Foster had dashed after him alone, barely slipping under the monolith that now trapped him inside. He now knew why the Council had dispatched a dozen Jedi for the mission.

Foster bit back the pain and stood, clasping his emerald blade in both hands, taking battle stance. He would die here, it was certain, but if he could prolong the battle, perhaps his allies would still have a chance at catching the Sith. He quickly re-assessed his surroundings; the pair stood in a spacious entrance hall. Flickering light strips encircled the hall along the high edges of the ceiling. Their soft light faintly illuminated the brown stonework that matched the desert world. A ring of balcony traced all along the walls of the room high above them. Several corridors led out of the hall at the back, but otherwise the room was open and flat.

Foster looked across at his smirking foe. The outcome of the impending conflict struck fear into him. Foster had only months previously graduated into the ranks of the Jedi. Were it not for his endless pleading to his uncle on the Jedi Council he never would have been selected for this mission, and even then he was only to be a support. But his opponent was a seasoned Sith Lord, skilled and mastered in ways Foster could not even imagine. The battle thus far had been play for the man, and so it would end.

Sheol's grin grew wider. "Though you lack experience in every sense of the word, your resolve in the face of death is admirable."

'Resolve' was not a word Foster would have used. Though he understood he would die and refused to do so kneeling, he nearly quaked from his despair. He sighed, there was no sense in listening to the man patronize him. He answered with silence, never breaking eye contact with his foe.

Foster lunged forward and hammered a two-handed sidestroke at the Sith with all his might. Sheol reacted instantly, never off-guard; twirling gracefully, he re-directed Foster's blade away with his own. The Jedi stumbled on his own momentum, but quickly turned and blocked the Sith's counter swing.

That counter was delayed! Foster thought. He could've split me in two if he wished;, he's toying with me!

Darth Sheol smiled in affirmation of Foster's thoughts, which he was obviously reading.

Humiliated, the young Jedi's assault took on new fury. His green lightsaber blurred as he laid into his smug foe with surprising speed. Darth Sheol never appeared pushed, deftly parrying each blow effortlessly. The pair moved all about the open floor, illuminating the room with flashes and sparks as their blades crashed together.

Foster appeared drunken in comparison to Sheol. The black-cloaked man twirled and spun, moving with fluidic grace from stroke to stroke. His crimson blade moved with perfect rhythm, humming a war song to which the Sith danced. Sweat flew from Foster's face as he spun. His muscles screamed in protest and his strokes grew sluggish. Sheol pressed him harder, expiring the last reserves of his strength. The Sith Lord deflected a sloppy down stroke and blasted the Jedi in the chest with an invisible fist of the Force. Foster reeled backward and crashed into the stone floor. His lightsaber flew from his hand and extinguished. The wind went out of him and he spent several moments trying to painfully fill his lungs.

Darth Sheol deactivated his lightsaber and approached the motionless Jedi. With a flick of his fingers, Foster's discarded weapon flew into the Sith's hand and quickly disappeared into his dark robes.

"You are a foolish, inexperienced, and clumsy little Padawan." Sheol said, standing over his foe. He let the words sink in before he continued. "Yet you are brave, determined and possess much potential to be great."

Foster attempted to groan a reply, but no audible sound left his lips.

"It's a pity such potential always goes to waste." Sheol said as he extended his hand. Blue-white lightning arced from his fingertips with a crackle and raged all about Foster's fatigued body. He convulsed violently on the floor in a silent scream of agony. The lightning danced all about him, searing his flesh and starting small fires on his garb. No thoughts crossed his mind as his consciousness was enveloped in a blanket of darkness.

Welcome!

You have somehow haphazardly stumbled upon my page, the method of which is unsure. But since you're here, may as well poke around! The Shibby Files are a collection of my many writing ideas. I dream of being a writer....like every other ten billion teenagers out there. The unfortunate thing is I'm in my twenties, so one would think I'd have grown out of the phase by now.

Not so! I intend to live in my little dream land of one day being successful as long as possible. With that said, let me tell you the types of things you'll find on here.

Being a harsh critic of myself, I find my work frustrating and have a hard time really getting anywhere as far as pounding out consecutive chapters of any storyline. Reading over again I tear it to pieces and practically throw it all out the window. So what this page will contain are random segments or bits of different story ideas that I've actually been able to sit down and write. For the most part they'll be science fiction and fantasy, cause I'm a nerd, and I'm okay with that.

What I would ask of you, the reader, that if you're to do anything but read and enjoy (or not enjoy); feel free to comment and lend me advice, or praise if needs be. The purpose of this is to get outside opinions of my work. So comment and advise away! But anyway, enough introduction, I'm sure I'll do plenty of gabbing in each individual post, until then, adieu!