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Artemia

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  1. Sorry about the confusion. Yes, it's all Earth based. By universe, I mean the world surrounding these characters and their stories, the canon associated with them. For example, a situation that appears in one story could/might be referenced in a later story. It's sort of a collection of stories right now. I hope that makes sense.
  2. Vignette focusing on Michael Aberdeen Out We all sat around the dining room table waiting for Father. He'd called a family meeting, but we didn't know why. Everyone was a bit annoyed, but we would have faced worse if we'd ignored our father's message. Mia had been out with her latest fling, and was tapping her heels impatiently, and Drake was trying to get her to chill. Donnie seemed on edge, which was understandable; if this had anything to do with the Van Orten accounts, we could all be in a lot of trouble. Martin seemed strangely calm, but my little brother had a way of dealing with stress that none of us quite understood. Me, well, I'd sent Jack home when I got Father's message. I apologized for it messing up our date night, and promised to make it up to him. I would. And maybe one day I'd actually tell him what my family did. I didn't know if he was my one yet, but I had a good feeling. Unfortunately, that good feeling disappeared when my father entered the room and threw a newspaper across the table...in my direction. “Care to explain this media fiasco you've caused?” I stared open mouthed at the picture covering the front page of the tabloid. It didn't even need the tacky headline they managed to concoct. I guess I never believed it before, but a picture really does say a thousand words. This one, clearly taken the night before of myself and Jack at a club, kept screaming the one thing I'd tried to keep under the radar. I, Michael Aberdeen, was gay. This picture was...unforgiving, and it left nothing to the imagination about the nature of my relationship with Jack. I pushed the paper back in my father's direction, and heaved a sigh, my head in my hands. Mia, sitting closest to me, leaned over and saw the picture. I'd already confided in her, but my brothers didn't know...or at least I hadn't told them. Mia put a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I knew I hadn't lost her. “I asked you a question Michael.” “I think the answer is pretty clear, Da.” “I'd like to hear it from you.” By now, the paper had made its way around the table, and I could feel my brothers' eyes on me. I chanced a quick look for their reactions. Donnie looked shocked, Drake was having one of his weird twin telepathy conversations with Mia, and Martin just seemed indifferent. I buried my head in my hands again. “I'm gay.” “The young man in the picture?” “My boyfriend, Jack.” “Does he know?” I lifted my head and stared at him in shock. Did he really think I would betray the family like that? Did he think so little of me? I pushed my seat back from the table hard, and stood up shaking. “No, of course not. He doesn't know a damn thing.” “Good.” My father paused, and picked up the paper again. “This is troublesome, Michael. Something like this will have already reached...” I stopped him, my temper rising. “I don't care who it has reached! It was bound to happen eventually. It's not like I was going to hide this for the rest of my life! Troublesome, my ass.” I pushed my chair into the table, and turned to leave. “We'll come up with a cover for this incident...” I heard Mia gasp, and I turned around, furious. “Cover? This isn't just some business negotiation you can manipulate! This is my life! If you've got a problem with it...well, at least tell me before you disinherit me.” I didn't bother sticking around for his response. I got in my car and drove. I couldn't calm down. I wanted to hit something, I wanted to scream, I wanted to tell my father exactly what I thought. The latter would not be a good idea though. Not with my temper flaring. My father just had to marry an Italian woman. Damn family temper. Mia was probably the only one who had a more volatile temper. I did have one cure for it though. One perfect cure, probably curled up on his couch at home with a bottle of wine, wondering why his boyfriend dropped everything to go to a family meeting. Pulling a quick U-turn, I sped in the direction of Jack's apartment. He must have heard me pull in, because he opened the door before I could even knock. Without thinking, I kissed him, trying to channel all that was running through my head into pure emotion. After a moment he pulled away, but held my hand and led me into the apartment. One look at me and his face fell. “What's wrong?” This man. This perfect wonderful man I did not deserve knew me so well. Maybe something would finally go right in this mess.
  3. I swear I'll quit just randomly disappearing. *headdesk* So for about 3 years now, I've been working on a story, though it's really become more a collection of short stories, revolving around a family. The collection is tentatively titled Aberdeen. Some of you might remember my story about Gina that I posted ages ago, well, that's part of the same universe. Same characters. My gameplan is to use a single thread to post pieces of what I manage to come up with. What I've discovered seems to work is vignettes surrounding individual characters. To start off, here's my list of main characters: The Aberdeens Darren & Elena Aberdeen (The Parents) Donovan Aberdeen Drake Aberdeen Mia Siobhan Aberdeen Michael Aberdeen Martin Aberdeen (Siblings are listed in descending order by age, Drake and Mia are twins.) The Civilians (to this point) Sara Callaghan Jack DeLuca Gina McCormick I welcome any and all questions/comments/critiques. There is a LOT of backstory in my head that I am still parsing through for these characters, for these stories, so if something doesn't make sense, feel free to mention it, seriously. I'll leave this post as sort of my intro, and the post directly following this will have a piece in it.
  4. Okay, I breathe now. I have not laughed that hard in quite awhile. I was just minding my own business and happened upon the thread, and the first order of business in the first post: ...yep. That's definitely my husband. I very nearly spit out my water all over my computer when I read that. Started laughing then and didn't stop. Well done. MORE!
  5. Good to hear I'm not the only one who thought that. I was writing it the night before it was due, and it's certainly not my best. Definitely needs editing. I've actually got a one on one conference with my teacher to discuss the piece tomorrow morning for my portfolio for the class, so I'll probably post the last bit of what I have written sometime tomorrow.
  6. Part IV...only one more piece after this. Well, we'll have reached the end of what I wrote and turned in for my writing class. I have grown to love these characters and may play around with them some more in the future. Part IV: Sanctity of Marriage Act Article 4, Section 10: Dependency Upon confirming willingness to comply with a government issued betrothal, any parties involved under the age of majority (eighteen years of age) are released from dependency on their parents or legal guardians. Parties still enrolled in secondary education are required to complete their education. Post-secondary education is optional, and at the discretion of the parties concerned. Vincent had really shocked me with this one. I can honestly say I hadn't seen it coming. It was a Friday and we were at his apartment. I had looked at the clock and swore, bustling to gather my things, mumbling about my curfew. “Move in with me.” I didn’t realise I’d been staring at him until I lost grip of my bag and it fell to the floor, knocking me out of my stupor. “What?” “Move in with me.” Before I could repeat my question, he continued. “We’re going to be married in two months anyway Catie. You’re here every night as it is, and a decent chunk of your stuff is already here.” “My mother won’t...” He sighed, crossing the room to stand right in front of me. “I don’t give a damn what your mother thinks. I’m sorry Catie, I know she’s your mother, but she has been against this from day one, and I am not about to let her dictate our marriage.” I started shaking, and moved to the couch, pulling my feet up, trying to get it under control. “I know Vin...I know. I won’t let her do that to us.” I was still shaking, and Vincent joined me on the couch, pulling me into his arms. “Damn it...Catie I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to...” “No, it’s not your fault...just so much right now.” He held me close, not saying another word. I let my gaze fall around the room, taking it all in. The pictures that dominated the room were the ones we’d taken together over the last eight months. In all of them we looked so happy. I hoped it wasn’t just a fluke, I hoped we could hold onto that happiness into our marriage. After a few more minutes, the shaking stopped. As close as we were, I could feel Vincent relax too when I was finally able to let the tension go. Looking up at him, I knew this was right. I don’t know exactly what drove me to my next question, but I’ll never regret asking it. “Vin...do you love me?” His eyes widened, and his grip around my shoulders tightened. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. Something in his eyes brightened, and he smiled. “I do Catie...I really think I do.” I kissed him. Nothing like the chaste kisses we had shared before though. This was right. No more thinking, no more assuming, no more saying it only because I felt I had to in order to make our marriage a success...this was right, and I was happy. I could barely pull myself away from his lips as I spoke. I couldn’t let go of this feeling. “I love you too, Vin. I love you too.” I didn’t make it back to my mother’s house that night. It just didn’t seem that important. I was already home. ~~~~~~~ Of course, I woke up to five very angry, very disappointed, very motherly voice messages. After breakfast, Vincent and I went and bought some boxes to pack up my stuff. As soon as I opened the door, my mother started raging. Vincent and I simply made our way up the stairs to my room. “Catherine Marie, don’t you walk away from me! Get down here now!” I stopped midway up the stairs and turned to look at her. “No.” “What do you mean no?” “I’m packing my things. I’ll be out within a few hours.” “Young lady, you do not turn eighteen until next month. You’re not going anywhere.” Vincent was livid behind me, and I could tell he wanted to say his piece, but I stopped him. “Actually, legally, I could have left any time after Vincent and I affirmed our betrothal.” Oh, she was furious now. “Yet another reason that stupid law needs to be repealed! You march in here and think you can do whatever the hell you want, just because the government says you’re getting married! I am your mother! You will show me some respect.” “Not until you respect me and my decision to marry Vincent.” “It was not your decision to marry Vincent. If the government hadn’t gotten involved you never would have met him! You don’t love him, Catherine, I don’t see why you’re fighting me on this.” “Just because you didn't love Dad doesn't mean I can't love Vincent! And you know what? I do! I love him!” I hadn’t wanted to explode, but I can’t deny it felt amazing. My mother stood at the foot of the stairs sputtering, and I was starting to shake slightly. I felt Vincent’s hands on my shoulders and relaxed slightly. It was clear though that I could never be fully relaxed or off guard in my mother’s home. “Get out.” She looked shocked at the words coming out of her own mouth. It was as if, she wanted to fight more, but something was stopping her. “Oh, trust me, I am.” I continued up the stairs, and for the next two hours packed everything I owned as quickly as I could. When we left, my mother didn’t say anything to us. She stood in the living room and watched us load the boxes into Vincent’s car, a stony look on her face. I could tell Vincent was trying to keep my mind off it the rest of the day, and I appreciated it, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t see my mother again for quite awhile.
  7. Part 3 Sanctity of Marriage Act Article 3, Section 5: Terms of Fulfilling Contract - Timeline After the two parties involved have affirmed their willingness to act in accordance with the betrothal, the marriage contract must be signed and notarized within a time period of one year. The choice to have a wedding ceremony remains in the hands of the aforementioned parties and their respective families, but a formal ceremony is not required to remain in accordance with the law. At minimum, vows of obligation and signing of the marriage contract must be overseen by a local judiciary official. I knew it was going to end badly from the moment my mother had proposed the idea. Vincent and his parents had come over to discuss wedding details, and at the last minute my father decided he was coming over as well. At the moment my mother and father were screaming about something to do with my grandmother’s wedding dress. I was only half paying attention. Mrs. Reynolds was trying to calm them both down, turn the conversation to caterers or something, but it was a useless effort. Vincent sat next to me, arm around my shoulders. Mr. Reynolds kept glancing over at us with a sad smile on his face. It was a pitying look, but he must have meant well. No one in the room could have been comfortable during this screaming match. I don’t know what set me off, but the next thing I knew, I was tense in Vincent’s arms. My whole body seized up, and I couldn’t breathe. My parents kept yelling across the room at each other, and everyone but Vincent was oblivious to what was happening. My hands started shaking, and he, calmly as could be, covered them with his own. Standing up, Vincent cleared his throat, getting my parents’ attention, still holding my hands tightly. “It seems like things are under control here. Catherine and I actually need to get going. Wesley and Jillian wanted to meet with us this afternoon. Something about stag and hen nights and boundaries.” Without another word, he pulled me up from my seat on the couch, leaving the room behind us eerily quiet. His hands on my shoulders, he ushered me out the door. When we got to his car, I stopped him as he reached for my door. “What was that? We aren’t meeting Wes and Jill for another,” I glanced at my phone, “three hours.” He opened the door, gesturing for me to get in. “You needed to get out of there, and I wasn’t about to let them put you through another minute of that, Catie.” No one had called me Catie since I was younger. Catherine had just become the norm...but Catie sounded right coming from him. At a loss for words, I just nodded slightly and slid into the car. After he climbed in, I took hold of his hand over the console and leaned over and kissed him lightly. “Thanks Vin.” He smiled and squeezed my hand, pulling the car out of the driveway.
  8. And now...the second part of my short story. Enjoy. Sanctity of Marriage Act Article 2, Section 3: Right to Appeal Betrothal As previously stated, within one week of receiving a notice of betrothal, those named must meet to discuss terms of compatibility. Matches are made based upon compatibility as determined by government testing, however, the betrothed have the right to appeal the government’s decision in extreme cases on incompatibility. Requests for appeals must be made in person, with both parties present. Only in extreme cases will appeals be granted. In the event an appeal is granted, the two parties will be betrothed to new partners. Vincent had been the one to call me. He had started out all proper and polite, but once we moved on to small talk we both became aware of just how awkward it all was. Rather than tormenting ourselves further, we set up a date. Dinner and movie seemed like a really old cliche, but I think we needed a cliche. We knew absolutely nothing about each other other than we were getting married. Which, if all went well, we would. He had made it clear over the phone that he wanted to try to make this work, possibly as much as I did. It was a comforting thought. Friday night came, and like a gentleman, Vincent showed up on my doorstep at precisely seven o’clock. My mother tried to usher him in, saying she wanted to meet her future son-in-law, but I told her as calmly as I could to back off. She’d get to meet him officially later, just like I would have to meet his parents. Right now though, we needed to get to know each other. As my mother stalked off, he mouthed a thank you at me and mocked wiping his brow. In the car, we talked about our parents. His had gotten lucky, it seemed. Max and Genevieve had been high school sweethearts, and when neither of them had received a notice of betrothal by Genevieve’s eighteenth birthday, they had eloped. I told him my parents’ story, not nearly as happily ever after in contrast. We pulled into the parking lot at the cinema and he stopped me before I opened the door. “Catherine, are you okay with this? I know we don’t have many options, and I want to make an honest shot at this, but I’d like you to be happy as well. You deserve that.” “No, no, no...this...this is what I want. I want us to make the best of this. I want to make this work.” He took hold of my hand and gently kissed it. He ran around the car and opened my door for me, and in almost a comical bow extended his arm to me. I couldn’t help smiling as my fiance led me into the cinema. The film we caught did not live up to its reviews, but he guaranteed dinner would be better. When we walked in, it was one of the nicer restaurants in town even, the staff quickly ushered us back toward the kitchen. I must have had a confused look on my face, because he took my coat, looked at me with a bright smile and said simply, “Just trust me.” He led me into the kitchen, and he pulled out a chair for me at an elegantly set table just off to the side. A chef’s table reservation? These were almost impossible to get unless you had a lot of money to spend. I turned to ask him how he had managed it, when I realised he was no longer behind me. I looked around, and he soon reappeared from a door on the far side...wearing a chef’s jacket and carrying a bottle of sparkling cider and two champagne glasses. “Surprise,” he said, placing one of the glasses in front of me. “When I told my boss about my impending engagement, he was more than happy to let me have this table tonight. I’ll let you enjoy the cider while I get our appetizers going. These other goons will be cooking our dinners, but I wanted to make sure you got to try my special.” The food was spectacular, and he promised to cook for me again. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it. Conversation boiled down to an intense game of twenty questions, but I soon discovered he had a mind like I did. He wasn’t afraid to ask the private questions, but he also understood if I wasn’t ready to answer them just yet. I was upset the night had to end, but was content knowing that my future would be full of nights just like it. He kissed my hand again on the doorstep when he dropped me off, and told me he’d call me after I got out of school tomorrow. My phone buzzed almost as soon as I got up the stairs. “So...how was it? Is he nice, evil, completely off his rocker?” “Jill, calm down. I had a lovely evening,” I told my best friend, giggling at her antics. I could imagine her pacing her room, debating when to call me, and then finally losing all patience and attacking the phone. “He was a complete gentleman, and the tests seem to have done their job. We’re incredibly...compatible.” “Catherine....” she whined, “I need details!” “He graduated from Harting South High last spring, and he’s getting ready for culinary school. He’s got one sister, April, and he enjoys science fiction and playing piano.” “That doesn’t tell me anything!” “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not the one marrying him then.” I could hear the whine about to escape her lips, and stopped her. “We’ll chat at lunch tomorrow. I need to sleep or I’ll need a caffeine drip to get me through homeroom.” With a sigh, Jillian conceded defeat and hung up. Collapsing into bed I smiled thinking about my evening with Vincent. I didn’t love him, not yet, but I certainly liked him well enough. Well enough to give him a chance.
  9. Bit of explanation before we jump in, I suppose. I'm working on a piece for my Creative Writing class. We weren't really given any guidelines, prompts, or anything but to use what we've learned in class (which for someone like me is really just a bunch of reiteration...). It's meant to be a maximum of 10 pages, minimum 6 or 7, due this coming Friday. I've got an idea I'm working with, it's just a matter of getting the words down now. I thought I'd post pieces of it here as I work on it and get some feedback. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome in my world. So....diving in now to Just Accept It. “Catherine, will you come downstairs?” “Just a minute, Mom!” I folded up the letter and put it in my desk. I knew what she wanted to talk about. Once the intended receives their letter, their parents do as well. It was really more to drive the point home than anything. It wasn’t like the parents had any say in the matter anymore. Once we turned seventeen, all bets were off, and my number had come up. Most kids were petrified of getting married in high school, but it didn’t bother me so much. I picked up the picture of my betrothed they had sent with my letter. He wasn’t unattractive, he just wasn’t my usual type. Normally I preferred blonds, but the dark hair he sported seemed to work for him. He would have looked strange as a blond. Carrying the picture with me downstairs, I rolled my eyes upon seeing my mother pacing the front room. She no doubt would have been happier if I was out in the crowds of students at the Capitol protesting the law. She had been one of them before she was betrothed to my father. She’d calmed down, but in the past year she’d become a bit manic about the whole issue. The law had been in place since before my grandparents married, and it wasn’t something that a few protesters were going to change any time soon. Mom looked up, startled to see me at the foot of the stairs. Seeing the picture in my hands, she snatched it away. “This is him?” I nodded. “Vincent. Vincent Reynolds. He seems nice.” Had to admit, Catherine Reynolds didn’t sound too terrible. “Seems nice?” my mother said, waving the picture, “You’ve never met him!” “So? Based upon his profile, we seem to be highly compatible. It’s not like you knew anymore about Dad before you met him.” “That’s not the point. You don’t even love him!” “Did you love Dad when you got your letter?” I said, snatching Vincent’s picture back. She paused, sighing. “We’re not having that discussion, Catherine.” “My point exactly. You were in exactly the same position I am, except you fought it. You didn’t even give him a chance, didn’t even try to make it work. You did your five years, had your one required child, and he left. I don’t blame him.” “I said we’re not having this discussion, Catherine Marie.” “Yeah, whatever,” I said, stepping back up the stairs. “Just because your marriage was a failure doesn’t mean mine will be. I’m at least going to try to make the best of it.” I practically ran back to my room, slamming the door behind me. Looking down at the smiling young man in the picture, I knew I had to at least try. Like I said, comments, feedback and concrit are always welcome.
  10. Very glad to get the feedback. And...you're all asking the questions I was hoping you would. So I feel I did something right. As far as the length, this was the chunk of it that I had fully written. Nothing has been edited, in true form of NaNo for me, but it's not all I have written. There's still a small piece, starting with Lexi waking up from that dream, that I have written. Not done yet of course. I'm hoping to find some time in the next few weeks or so to really sit down and work on this piece, it's pretty close to my heart for a number of reasons. Glad you all enjoyed it and are waiting for more. I shall do my best to deliver.
  11. So I started working on this piece back in November, for National Novel Writing Month. The goal was 50k...I got about 5k into it before the month got crazy school wise. I'm posting a chunk of what I've written here, for some feedback. Still trying to put my finger on a title, so for now as a working title I'm calling it "Simple Dreams". The two main characters are Shana, a young girl at the beginning, and Alexandra, or Lexi, a woman in about her late 20's about. Their relationship in the piece in complicated, and a lot more still has to develop, but I have an idea where it's going to go. Potentially a bit higher rated for some darker themes, though at this point it's mostly implication. For now, I give you the first pieces of "Simple Dreams." ------ --------- ”œTo be or not to be, that is the question: Whether ”˜tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them. From Hamlet by William Shakespeare ---------- I was standing at the end of a long gravel driveway. Off to the side, I could see a blue farmhouse, and at the end of the driveway was a large red barn. It was definitely a ranch, the smell in the air told me that. It wasn't unpleasant, but almost comforting in a down home sort of way. A sign on the fence in front of the house read ”œDavies' Ranch.”
  12. Books: Such an obsession, though I can say I've not reached your level Nat. The story sounds similar. The librarians when I was younger knew me well...especially after they tried to deny me access to a few higher level books. My mom went in and threw a fit, and so did my teacher, in my defense. Long story short, they never denied me a book again. My personal collections grows more every year. I think I'm sitting at just over 200 books. Considering I'm studying Humanities at Uni, I tend to keep most, if not all, of my books. Walking by a bookstore and not getting anything as a challenge? I understand completely. I try to spread the love too. Anytime I have to give a gift, I try to get a book I think the person would like or need, or a journal. Books. Nice post. Clumsiness: Guilty as charged. I can be such a klutz at times. I played softball for 6 years, and it was sort of an unwritten rule on our team that it wasn't a "real" game unless I ended up on the ground or bleeding. I've been hit in the head with line drives, and run into fences trying to catch the ball. Good times. I've still got scars on my legs from my inability to slide properly.
  13. Glad you lot liked it. It was a bit painful to write actually, but that's a whole other story. Anywho...when I drag up any of my others I'll probably put them up here.
  14. Another Poem. From a little girl's point of view. Daddy picked me up from school today. He took me out for ice cream, but told me not to tell Mommy. When we got home he changed out of his special work clothes. I like Daddy's work clothes. They're green. I like green. He has a special necklace too, and sometimes he lets me wear it. After dinner Daddy told me a story, like he does every night. It's always about a princess and the prince who saves her. Mommy just sits there and smiles when he tells me my story. He tucked me in and told me he loved me. I love my Daddy. Daddy was late for dinner tonight. Mommy said his boss made him work longer. That doesn't seem very nice. When Daddy came in, he smiled, but he looked sad. I sat and drank my juice while he and Mommy talked. Mommy started crying. Would she cry if I was late for dinner? Daddy hugged her, so he must have said sorry. It wasn't Daddy's fault. His boss made him late. Daddy gave me a big hug and told me he loved me very much. I love my Daddy. Daddy has to go away for awhile. His boss is sending him on a big trip. Daddy's never been away from me and Mommy this long. I hope he'll be okay. He writes to me and Mommy a lot, and I send him pictures. I asked him how much longer he'd be gone. Daddy said he would be home soon. I told him to hurry because Mommy couldn't tell a princess story the way he could. Daddy told me to be good for Mommy and that he loved me. I love my Daddy, and I miss him. Daddy still hasn't come home. The other day Mommy got a phone call. I don't think she has stopped crying since then. I wanted to talk to Daddy, he'd make her feel better. Mommy bought me a new black dress and Grandma and Grandpa came to visit. I told Mommy I wanted to talk to him and show him my pretty dress. She told me I couldn't because he was in a better place. What could be better than here with me and Mommy? Mommy was wearing Daddy's special necklace, and she still won't stop crying. I'm very confused, Daddy would know how to fix this. I love my Daddy, and I miss him.
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