Atelier Valoron

2008 - 2009 Reflection and Resolution

2009-01-02T01:33:23Z

Posted this last night on my blogspot page, figured I'd put it up here while it was still the first day of the year.

It occurs to me that, upon seeing others reflect on what 2008 meant for them, it should probably behoove me to do the same, if nothing else to acknowledge what has come before in order to better look to the future.

In 2008, I came to realize that my main career path should not be video games, but instead writing. In 2008, I began the path that I needed to take in order to get a Master’s in English.

In 2008, I set things in motion so that I could graduate Summer 2009 with 2 Associate’s Degrees at once. In 2008, I struggled with, and overcame, seniorities, and found the fire that I needed in order to finish my studies for the semester and my program of study.

In 2008, I met and dated a young woman for the first time in my life; it did not last beyond a month, but it gives me hope that I will do it again soon. In 2008, I began working on my own self-confidence, both with everyday and dating situations, which I hope to continue and grow in 2009.

In 2008, I seriously began working on my own life, working on truly becoming the confident, independent adult I know I can be.

In 2008, I finally found a job again, and after working there for over nine months, am now one of the most respected employees there.

In 2008, I completed the first draft of one my stories, and seriously began working on the first story in the series I’ve been designing for the past year and a half. In 2008, I finished the first draft of a poetry book.

In 2008, I developed my skills in level design, writing, and in working in a team environment.

In 2008, I strengthened my resolve to no longer define myself in part and/or mostly by my ties to my family.

2009 though…What should my resolutions be?

I resolve to finish both of the two novels mentioned above.

I resolve to finally get the things I meant to do in 2008, both the driver’s license, car, and bank account issue, done and finished as quickly as I can in 2009.

I resolve to find a second job, in order to help me save up on university payments and beyond.

I resolve to date far more, and develop my confidence when it comes to meeting and interacting at my best with women.

I resolve to continue defining myself as my own man, developing into a Man that would honor God, my future wife, and myself.

Meme: The Right Thing

2008-09-28T08:55:08Z

Something that I'm going to do is every now and then, post up a quick scene or drabble (thousand word+ scene) based on words or phrases that will serve as a theme or a point of the story itself. These are for the most part stand-alone pieces, although some might be spring-boards for future ideas.

It was about two in the morning. Marcus had completed his latest chapter, and had just climbed into bed for some last minute reading when a creak came from the door.
Looking up, Marcus sighed. “Come in.”
The door slowly swung open, and standing in the doorway was a woman. A woman with green skin and two small horn stumps on the sides of her head, barely visible within her long black hair.
The woman smiled. “Hello Marcus.”
“Hello yourself Morgan. What do you want?” said Marcus in a weary voice.
“What? Can’t I come and visit you?” said Morgan, a look of mock hurt crossing her face as she moved closer to the bed.
“You usually have some other reason than that,” said Marcus. He didn’t press the point though, as Morgan was dressed in a simple dark blue night gown, its closed belt keeping it tight around her.
Reaching the bed, Morgan sat down by Marcus’ feet. “How can you say something like that? Haven’t I been always been there for you?” As Morgan said this, her robe seemed to get a bit tighter around the waist.
Marcus raised his arm. “Morgan, no. Please stop right there. Almost every night now, you come into my room and try to tantalize me. This needs to stop.”
“But why?” said Morgan, and in one motion jumped onto the bed, stood up on her knees and opened her robe.
Underneath it was a beautiful embroidered corset, its bottom covered in a laced skirt that went around Morgan’s panties and her slight hips. Covering her legs were long pantyhose, shading her legs a deeper tone of green.
“Marcus, I am your Muse. I’ve been there with you since you first started writing. I find the pieces of inspiration that help inspire you the most. I’ve shared every high and low that you’ve ever experienced in your career. And while I don’t know how or why, somehow this house lets me actually interact with you. For the first time, I can actually share more than just ideas and thoughts, I can actually talk to you! And I can even do this!”
As Marcus watched, Morgan began glowing light green, her body filling out at an incredible rate. Despite it all happening at once, Marcus’ photographic memory caught every detail:
First her arms filled out, growing larger and larger by the moment. After a few seconds, they were already half as wide as her originally skinny waist, their softness incredibly inviting. Even her forearms had lightly filled out, although not nearly as much as her upper arms.
At the same time, her waist grew, her stomach pressing against the corset tightly as a belly roll appeared beneath it; yet miraculously, it held fast, wrapping around her growing belly tightly.
Yet the greatest change nearly made Marcus pass out from the blood-rush; Morgan’s figure, already hinting at an hourglass, practically stormed headfirst into it. Her thighs thickened and expanded, growing so fast that they were brushing against each other in three heartbeats.
From his position, Marcus could see the bedroom mirror behind Morgan, and watched as her ass filled out, each butt check growing so quickly that Morgan’s panties quickly became a thong, the skirt of her corset covering them like the snowcaps of the Andes.
In front, her hips widened, the corset making them even more pronounced as their edge moved away from it. When they stopped, Morgan’s hips seemed to end three, five inches away from her shoulders.
What saved her from a pear-like figure were her breasts though; they seemed like they had grown close to being the size of Morgan’s head. How the corset was able to hold them in Marcus couldn’t even fathom, but they did. True, they only barely covered half Morgan’s breasts, and their tightness caused the flesh to spill over the edge slightly, but they held.
All in all, what stood before Marcus was an almost heavenly vision, his ideal woman personified.
“Marcus, we both want this,” said Morgan, her face fuller than before. “We both want to be together, to share each other.”
“I know that!” shouted Marcus, sitting up from his reclined position. “Don’t you think I know that? I love being with you. I can’t stand the idea of not being with you!”
“Then why do you reject me when I come to you?” said Morgan, and this time her hurt was genuine. “I thought this is what mortal men wanted.”
“But it’s not what I want Morgan. I can’t bring myself to be like other men.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Marcus looked off to the side for a moment before continuing, “…because I want to treat you right.”
Marcus sighed before continuing, “I’ve seen it happen all the time: Relationships seem to revolve around sex more and more, men and women debasing themselves simply for some meaningless rush of adrenaline.
“I don’t want that for myself. I want a meaningful relationship, one where I can give all of myself to the woman I love, and she can give herself to me, without fear of it becoming the only thing that defines our relationship.
“But I’m afraid that it might become that way. I’m afraid that if it happened, then you would be hurt worse than I would. And I can’t bear that thought. I can’t bear the idea of hurting you like that.”
A moment passed before Marcus felt Morgan’s hand against his face. Looking at her, he saw her smiling. “Thank you.”
“For what?” said Marcus, the blood rushing again as he realized how close she was.
“For wanting to do the right thing.” Morgan leaned forward and kissed him.
A quick moment passed, and Marcus closed his eyes, returning the kiss as he pulled Morgan to him, wrapping his arms around her soft body as she wrapped hers around him.
As they laid down back down on the bed, that night became a night that they would never forget.

Thoughts on Eli Stone Finale and Series

2008-04-18T04:18:58Z

The season finale of Eli Stone has just aired, allowing ABC to begin airing their usual stable of Ugly Betty, Grey’s Anatomy, and Lost episodes again on Thursdays.

But how did the season finale of Eli Stone do? For that matter, what kind of a show was it? Here’s the premise from Wikipedia:

Eli Stone is an attorney who in the first episode is discovered to have an inoperable brain aneurysm, which is causing hallucinations. Eli's acupuncturist, Dr. Chen, suggests that his hallucinations are actually divinely inspired visions of the future. These visions often predict future cases and events, including an impending earthquake.

As the series progresses, Eli realizes that the visions that he keeps having are tied to the case of the week, which help him win them for his clients. In the process, he changes not only himself (from a somewhat pompous, career-obsessed lawyer to a humanitarian defender), but also those around him and the firm he works at.

The final episode deals with the aftereffects of his operation, which was meant to remove the brain aneurysm from his brain. However, complications arose, and he has fallen into a coma from which he might never come out of.

In flashbacks, we see Eli’s last case before the operation, where he helped a client secure his right to die the way he wanted to, despite the protests of his Rabbi wife and his doctors.

During these flashbacks, we also see how Eli’s friends are handling the possibility of his death, with all of them realizing just how much their lives have changed for the better with Eli’s prophetic visions.

If any of you reading this have seen the ads for the show, you’d have seen Eli turning, asking someone if they are God. The truth of the matter leads to a final segment that had made roaring with laughter, which in and of itself is something worth noting.

But really, what actually happens is an example of what I like about the show. Most other televisions shows would have actually had Eli meet God, in one form or another, whereas Eli meets singer and frequent guest star George Michael instead. This leads to a hilarious musical number where Eli’s friends join in, singing and dancing him out of his coma at the end of the episode.

And that’s really the beauty of it. Throughout its season run, Eli Stone has gone about matters of faith in a way that it both original and non-patronizing. Most of the shows that I’ve seen that have had at least one religious or faith-based theme in an episode have usually portrayed it in a way that was either dismissive, patronizing, or just downright saccharine.

Yet the Eli Stone show, its writers and performers, seem to have a respect for the spiritual side of life that, while somewhat rooted in Christianity, is still respectful of the myriad ways that humanity has defined its spirituality.

And for me, that makes it a delight to watch, as I define my own walk of faith in a more spiritual, faith-based way, rather than with the dogmatic perspective that has become tied to Christianity and religion in general.

But I’m deviating a bit; the show obviously ended with Eli waking up, allowing for the potential for a second season sometime next Christmas-to-Spring season. This is after all a B-list show that takes up the left over time that ABC’s A-list leaves open when they take their usual vacations. I just hope that when it does come back, Eli Stone will continue its course of spirituality-respectful story-lines, as it would be a shame if they messed this show up.

Progress Report #3 - First Three Chapters

2008-02-04T06:16:39Z

Things are coming along nicely with the story; so nice, in fact, that I have the first three pages of the first draft right here:

In the center of a vale stood the cathedral. It rose high above the trees that surrounded it, the two bell towers at its northern side overlooking the whole of the valley.

Yet it wasn’t gothic, or at least not in the way that the word would be described now. Whoever had built it long ago had decided that it wouldn’t be some dark, foreboding place, where black skies, portentous thunder, and preening organ music were the norm.

Instead, the cathedral was gothic in the sense that it inspired awe, appealing to the emotions of those who saw it.

Along the east and western wall carved pictures could be seen, depicting the histories that the church was intrinsically tied to. Some depicted battles, while others showed travels and sceneries foreign to the forested valley. But invariably they always showed the same figure, a wall of a man with stylized hair of fire that would put the casual observer in mind of a shaved bear.

Far off in the distance thunder sounded, heralding the black clouds that were slowly migrating from the distant mountain peaks to the valley below.

Two seconds passed before a bestial roar filled the vale, sounding defiance as it came from within the cathedral itself.

Around the bend of the church was the southern entrance, its arch depicting the flame-haired man kneeling before a bearded carpenter. Through the arch the cathedral opened into the nave, the central hall of the church.

Down the nave, past book-filled shelves and the pews was the sanctuary, the very heart of the cathedral. There, surrounded by the statues and frescos was the source of the roar, standing ragged with its head hung low as it sucked in air.

It was vaguely humanoid, its arms and legs tied down with the chains that attached it to the two columns at each side. It stocky body resembled more a statue than a living being, its skin a dark auburn color that flickered and shimmered like fire.

Rearing up, the creature’s bear-like face strained with anger as it tried to push forward, fighting against the chains that held it in place.

“Conary!” shouted the creature as its anger grew, causing smoke to rise from its body. “Stop this! Why do you let this bother us? There is no reason to feel this way!”

Quickly, red-robed figures appeared from the shadows, their hoods drawn over what would be their faces if they had any. They surrounded the chained statue, climbing over each other to build a red dome around it.

“No! I will not be silenced! Conary, you know you don’t need to feel this way. You are guiltless!”

The shadows that wore the red cloaks had almost covered the chained statue, muffling its voice with their bodies.

“Conary! Remember who you are, who you once were!” shouted the statue before the last of the shadows covered it.

A red dome of bodies covered the pillars and statue now, returning silence to the sanctuary as the black clouds fell upon the cathedral.

Despite its best efforts, the sunlight couldn’t penetrate the closed drapes over the two windows. They had been pulled together the night before, so that the occupant of the room could at least try to sleep in a bit.

It wasn’t incredibly large, as cabins went, but it was still one of the nicer ones available. In what light did manage to get through, one could see two chairs in front of a small table, close to a small desk at the side of one of the windows. A small distance away was the bed, in which the occupant of the room was sleeping.

She was lightly tossing and turning, her face reminiscent of extreme indigestion as she slept, when a series of knocks came from the cabin door. After a moment’s pause, a voice began to say something before thinking better of it, deciding to simply continue knocking on the door.

Slowly, the woman’s eyes opened as she woke up. Propping herself up by her arms, she looked around before remembering where she was. Hearing the noise, she turned her head to the door and said, “Yes, who is it?”

“It’s First Mate Basil, Mrs. Mousai,” replied the voice.

Sighing, the young woman rose from her bed, quickly finding her light blue robe over one of the bed’s corner bedposts. Putting it on over her nightgown, the woman tied it closely shut as she made her way to the door.

“Mr. Basil, is there a reason why you woke me up?” said the woman as she groggily opened the door.

Standing before her was a short man, the crown of his head level with Mrs. Mousai’s eyes. His stocky body was covered in blue overalls and a working man’s white shirt under an unbuttoned light blue shirt, with the top of his black boots hidden by his pant legs.

Looking up at her, the first mate smiled at the young woman, politely stepping back from the door a step. “Madam, I do apologize for having woken you, but you had asked me to let you know when we were in viewing distance of the city.”

As Celeste began remembering the night before, the man reached into his overalls, quickly finding a crumpled piece of paper in one of its larger pockets. “Here is the written version of the request,” said the first mate as he folded out the sheet and handed it to her.

Mrs. Mousai sighed as she quickly read her handwriting. The note was very insistent that Basil come wake her the minute the city was in sight. There was even her signature, Celeste Marie Mousai, at the bottom, written along a make-shift doted line right besides Basil’s.

Then as now, Celeste had found it a bit silly, having to write down the request and then sign it, but she understood Basil’s reasons for it. The practice made sure that when he came calling on some of the guests, they couldn’t accuse him of any improprieties, as he would have a signed request for his visiting them in their own handwriting.

Handing the paper back to the first mate, Celeste smiled a bit. “Well, I appreciate you coming when you did.”

“Not at all Mrs. Mousai. It was the least I could do after your help last night,” said Mr. Basil as he tucked the note back in his pocket. “Will you be requiring an escort to the viewing deck?”

“No, I know my way up there. But thank you for the offer,” said the young woman with a kind smile.

Shrugging, Mr. Basil turned to walk to the stairs down the hallway. As Mrs. Mousai closed the door, she heard the first mate whistle contentedly before singing to himself, “Can it be, first too great, then too small…”

As she made her way to the dresser beside the door, the young woman noticed her reflection in the large mirror next to the cabin’s bathroom.

Celeste Mousai was rather tall for a woman, standing at five feet and nine inches. She had come from a long line of farmers that had married women who could handle the heavy load of farm work, but some hiccup of genetics had resulted in her being not only stocky, but rather voluptuous as well. If it weren’t for the fact that her skin was lightly tanned and her hair was a dark red-brown, she could have passed for an operatic valkyrie.
Right then she looked more bedraggled than anything else, her hair hanging every which way over her face. Even her robe’s belt was also coming undone, adding to the fresh-out-of-bed look in an unappealing way.

Sighing, Celeste walked to the small kitchenette past the windows and the bath door. Retrieving the ingredients that she had packed with her from the cabinets, Celeste prepared her cup of coffee for the day.

As soon as the cup was ready, Celeste held it up to her nose, the smell of hazelnuts and almonds running up her nostrils as she deeply inhaled with them. She loved doing this, as the smell reminded her of the trees that she would climb as a girl back home.
Downing the coffee quickly, Celeste made her way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. She had already packed the previous night, so she felt that she could take her time with the morning toiletries.

For most part, this was a fairly standard way for Celeste to start her day. Yet for anybody unaccustomed to this it would have come as a shock
This was because Celeste, despite looking in every way human, was in fact an angel. And throughout the Multiverse, when mortals would think of angels, they almost always thought of them as being beacons of light and purity, so holy that they didn’t even let their feet touch the ground, lest the angel become defiled by the fallen status of the earth.
Certainly they wouldn’t have expected an angel to use a light touch of makeup to finish their preparations for the day.

Smiling at her reflection, Celeste looked herself over for a final inspection. Her hair was now straightened, with the lock of hair over her right eye curling just like it always did. She had picked a light blue sleeveless dress that complemented her figure, over which she wore a blue dress jacket.

Satisfied, Celeste quickly walked out of the cabin, locking the door behind her as she left. As she headed down the hall to the passenger elevator though, her thoughts returned to the dream.

The smell of forests, a battle in the middle of a fire, people made of shadows attacking an iron-headed stone warrior, and at the center a divine bear…All these things kept playing in her dreams, night after night.
It had started just a few days before she had left for Valoron City, the dream invading her sleep more and more the closer the airship got to its destination. It had gotten to the point where she could set her clock to it, as it always came right before she woke up.

Progress Report #2 - Suspence, Plot and Chapter 1

2008-01-28T05:18:53Z

Well, I feel like I finally have enough to actually update about, so here goes:

- Just finished a suspense scene for the Creative Writing II class that I'm taking, which came out fairly well from my viewpoint. It concerns the scene where Celeste is lead to, and first meets the story's villain.
- Thanks to the class' first assignment, I've finally gotten the whole plot actually written down, which means that now it's no longer just inside my head. What's nice about this is that it has helped me figure out different aspects about the story and Celeste and Auberon's role in it, that had previously been giving me problems.
- For this next week, I have to write up the scenes that would constitute the first "chapter" of the story, so for all of you interested in it, I should have it ready and available to read by this time next Sunday.

Till then, hope you are doing well, and I will see you next time.

Progress Report #1 - Snappy Title to come

2008-01-15T08:45:24Z

Well, as I said, here's the first of my progress reports. Honestly, I should put this off till I get up in the morning, but since I can't sleep, I'll do it now.

So far, I've gotten the groundwork for the novel pretty well-laid out; I know the characters enough to be able to confidently write them, I've written more than enough of the setting of the novel to write it convincingly, and I have a good layout of what the plot looks like.

As for the actual written part of the novel, I've so far gotten the first page of the beginning down (something that is quite hard for me, as I don't often know HOW to start a story right), and I've gotten six pages of two connected scenes later on in the story already written down. I've also gotten the start of a scene that takes place before those two already started, and I will try to get it fleshed out more by this Friday.

While I could do better in not jumping from scene to scene, I'm pleased to see that what I've already gotten down is satisfactory to me. Since I'm taking a Creative Writing II class this semester (starting at about later today at either 11 or 12:30), I'm going to try and convince the instructor of the class to let me use the novel as my major work for the semester.

I'm rather curious to see whether I can pull this off or not, as last semester I wrote between 30,000 to 60,000 words for my Character Development class, more than enough for a good-sized novel. I look forward to seeing whether I can achieve that same number with my novel, while at the same time working on the semester project for my Project class.

For those interested, the working title of my novel is The Muse.

Intent of purpose

2008-01-15T01:50:20Z

To all those who have been wondering where all my old posts went, this is the explanation why.

First though, I want to say hello to all the readers out there who have come across this page. I am Bernhard C. Moffitt, and this is my main blog, where I post updates on my work progress, as well as my own thought essays on a variety of subjects that interest me. Occassionally, I will also post different entries where I take an existing art piece and write a scene about it, as general practice to make sure that I keep myself fresh.

To all those that have been watching me for the last few years, you may have noticed that almost all of my posts are gone. The reason for this is because some of them I've made for friends only, but mostly, it's because I've gone through them and realized that I am no longer the person who wrote those posts.

Because of that realization, and because I want to use this blog as a professional resource to keep myself up to date with my own work, I'd decided to delete all the posts that I felt didn't serve a purpose anymore, effectively cleaning house here.

This brings up the question of what you can expect on this blog. Well, several things actually. Besides essays and movie reviews, I do intend to every so often post a bit about my own life here, but not to the almost whinny extent that I had done so before. Along with those three things, I will continuously post updates about my novel's process, including my attempts at getting it and my other works published.

I will try to post such a progression report later tonight, with the hope that anybody who reads this and is interested in the process of writing a novel will show interest in it (which I wouldn't mind at all, as I seem to work better if I have the pressure of an audience).

With that said, I look forward to this new year, and I hope you will join me in this interesting journey that I'm undertaking. - BCMoffitt.

New Years Eve Reflections

2008-01-01T01:06:31Z

Goodness me, will you look at that? I'm actually posting on this.

It's mostly for my own benefit, but for anybody whose interested, here are some of my reflections on 2007.

- I turned twenty this year. That might not mean a lot to most, but for me it's taken on the importance that many associate with turning eighteen. Since November 5th, it's like I've begun to see the world in an entirely new light. Granted, I had already started to do so before the birthday, but things are just far more obvious to me now.

- This ties in to the reflection above. I'd finally gotten to where I should have been development-wise in September and October (as in, to me at least, I had finally reached and slightly gone past the maturation that was appropriate for my age), when all of a sudden, my birthday comes along, and it's like I've jumped to an outlook a few years ahead of my time.

Analogy-wise, it's like I was finally at the right page of where I should be as a person, with said page half-turned in accordance with my turning twenty. Then suddenly, my birthday comes and goes, and not only does the page turn, but the book of my life turns two, three pages, and is now almost halfway through a page in my maturity and outlook that by rights I shouldn't have reached until I was, what, say twenty-two? Twenty-three?

(I blame my life of reading for this; that's the blessing and curse of books for you.)

- While it doesn't pay, I do now have a job as a Lab Supervisor for the Simulation, Modeling, and Visualization Center at CPCC. It's rather helpful, as I'm able to stay in the building all hours of the night, using the resources available to me (and we have a LOT of resources avaialbe at the Center), without the guards being able to kick me out at all.

That, and it rather helps with filling out applications as well.

- I've gotten physically trimmer and fitter, and I think I'm finally on the right track to looking like a white Ganondorf in my thirties. This is particularly important for me, as I have every intention to try and live to see and pass 2087, and one of the best ways to do that is to have a physically fit body suited to my own body structure.

That, and it helps to actually look like a fridge that will be able to protect you in case of an emergency.

- With my art, I'm quite pleased to see that I've improved drastically since last New Years, finding that if I have a good idea and references, I can draw something fairly competently. I'm no master, but I don't think I'm in the amateur league anymore.

- I've rediscovered my love of books, primarily through the help of Terry Pratchett's Discworld books and Terry Goodkind's Wizard's First Rule novel.

- Video games, while fun, don't occupy my every waking thoughts anymore. This is good in some ways, I feel, because life can't be JUST about video games. There's just so much more to it than just them.

- I've finally gotten off my ass and am working on a novel. Sure, most of the work so far has been developing the characters, but the time has been well worth it, and now I can focus on the story itself.

- As the year has passed, I'm quite pleased to find that I've become fully accepting of my love of plus-sized women, and am glad to see that I no longer worry about people finding out about it. It's still a private matter, but I don't think I'll worry anymore about people thinking less of me just because I prefer women that have nice, thick curves, and that's the important thing.

- In the SGD course, I've become recognized by my peers and teachers as the best writer in the curriculum, which means a lot to me. Finally, I have something that more than makes up for my lack of skill in, say, programming and, at the start of the last semester at least, modeling, and what's also rather nice is I've proven myself to have a rather deft hand at animation as well.

- Along with that is the joy of knowing that at least by this time next year, I will hopefully have graduated with my Associates Degree, while being in the process of getting into UNC Charlotte. I'm quite looking forward to the challenge, to be honest.

- One of the most important reflections to me is that over the course of this past year, I've learned how to conquer my OCD, which has been hounding me for the last four or five years. In the spring I learned what it was via my Psychology class, and in the fall I learned how to focus via my Acting class. Thanks to those two things, and because of what I think is natural genetics for the men in my family, I've finally gotten on the path that will eventually lead me to finally be free of this psychological curse once and for all.

- Finally, I can't help but think that I've grown in my walk of faith. While I know that I won't ever truly BE like Jesus was, I think I'm pretty close to it. True, I don't subscribe to a specific denomination, nor do I obsessively read through the Bible, which seems to may to be two of the hallmarks of being Christian.

But in compensation, I've grown to know what Jesus would want ME to do, so that I can't help but think that he's as much a part of me as my own organs. Which is rather funny, when you think about it; most people would think that there's the person you are in say, the church and church committee, and then there's the person you are when you're in the world.

Granted, I don't go to church (can't find one that feels RIGHT to me), but I can't help but think that everything I do is permeated with Christ's will and teachings. If you took his presence from me I would be an entirely different person, his presence being so much a part of me that it's now in my bones.

All in all, a thought that I'm most pleased with.

I have no idea how I'm going to use this journal in 2008; I may abandon it, post up art works and sketches that I'd tried out, or instead post bulletins about and excerpts from my novel, if nothing else to help keep a fire under my bottom to get me to actually stop being a procrastinating idiot git.

Anyway, Happy New Years to you all, and may God bless you in this new, uncertain, and overall exciting year to come. - BCMoffitt.

Meme Time

2007-08-28T01:28:44Z

Since I did this with LynxGriffin, I'll do it here as well. This is taken directly from her blog, as it's the meme.

Pay It Forward: I will send a handmade gift to the first 4 people who leave a comment here on my blog. I don’t yet know what that gift will be, but you will receive it within 365 days. The only thing you have to do in return is "pay it forward" by making a similar agreement on your blog.

Should be fun.

Apeth

2007-06-18T03:54:01Z

Type: Biography
Words: 290
Comments: While I wasn't able to get the full 400 at the present time, I intend to try and write some more, to be added in an edit later. (I consider my day to comprise the entire time I'm awake, which means that it may be 5:00 AM Monday and I'd still consider it Sunday.)

Apeth is the great Star Whale, who carries upon his back the Ruby City. Flying through the skies he is the first of the children of Illiana and UlShalom, who circle Austegard in eternal chase. Feeding on the nitrogen oxide produced by the ancient volcanoes and the bacteria-feeding airkrills, Apeth expels pure water and oxygen into the planet’s ozone.

Apeth was worshipped and revered by the people of the Ruby City as their guardian. Flying through the air, his whale song was an often-heard feature of the city-state.

Yet like many of the human nations of that time, the Ruby City was attacked by the fallen Djinish, who sought to subjugate all mankind in vengeance against their maker. As the battles raged on, the Ruby City suffered great losses, which tore at the heart of Apeth.

Finally, when all hope seemed lost, Apeth sprung from the clouds. His song now filled with anguish and anger, he dove down to the Ruby City, diving underneath it before rising from the earth, the city now lodged within his rock-like frills.

Flying into the sky, Apeth faced the fallen Djinish, and unleashed upon them his wrath. Sundering the rocks with his echosong, he dealt great losses to the fallen spirits.

Yet Apeth’s victory was hollow to the beast, as the shamans and priests of the Ruby City soon learned. The beast knew that even if it the Djinish threat was vanquished, one day its beloved city would be destroyed. Because of this, the beast came into a covenant with the people of the Ruby City: So long as they desired it, Apeth would carry them on its back for the rest of time, protecting them from any threat that should come to them.

Shrek The Third Review

2007-05-22T02:32:14Z

I've just come home from watching Shrek the Third, latest in the Dreamworks series. I want to make sure I get this down while it's fresh in my memory, which is why I'm writing it down here.

After the events of the second movie, Fiona and Shrek have been filling in for Harold, Fiona's dad and king of Far Far Away (a rather amusing spoof of Beverly Hills). Soon after, the king is on his deathlily (as a bed would be too big for a frog), and tells Shrek that, as husband to Fiona he is the next in line for the throne. Since Shrek has found himself completely out of his element, he implores the king if there is anybody else. Harold (throughout a funny extended death-sequence) tells Shrek there is another heir: Arthur "Artie" Pendragon, Fiona's cousin at a private highschool. The king then peacefully dies, and is laid to rest in a newly built memorial pond in the castle.

Almost immediately afterward, Shrek breaks off to find Artie, and is told right as he's departing that Fiona is pregnant. This unsettles Shrek, as he isn't sure whether he'd be a good father or not.

While Shrek and his sidekicks Donkey and Puss are gone, Far Far Away is overrun by every single villain from all the different fairy tales while being led by Prince Charming, the son of the previous film's villainess the Fairy Godmother. Their reasons for the takeover are that they are tired that their side of the story never gets told, and goaded by Charming are hell-bent on getting their own "Happily Ever After".

Admittedly, the movie deviates from the trends that Shrek I and II have established. One deviation is that the film doesn't end with a giant concert; another is that the film doesn't focus so much on the antics of Puss and Donkey.

However, as a proponent of serious storytelling, I admire how the movie doesn't let past conventions impose on its story. Both previous movies were somewhat light-hearted compared to the third movie. The story that it set up made me think of many of the old adventure Disney movies that I grew up with, like Aladdin, The Great Mouse Detective and The Rescuers Down Under. None of them ended with a giant musical number as the climax, as their stories were somewhat more serious. The same applies to Shrek the Third, and I was glad to see that it stayed true to its own story.

While the movie could have done better with how it presented its message, i.e. not hamming it up as much as it did, it did a lot better than most recent animated movies as it didn't shove it done your throat. Admittedly it was like sitting at a table and then having a giant plate filled with spaghetti and meatballs placed in front of you that you know you can't finished. But at least you didn't get the sense that it was shoved down like a giant breadroll.

Altogether, while it wasn't a Shrek I or II, it did far better then many other third entries in a movie series did, which is why I give Shrek the Third an 8 out of 10.

If I Only Had A Heart Act I

2007-02-05T23:08:18Z

This is the first act of my story If I Only Had A Heart. It's a Kingdom Hearts fanfiction, set about four to five years since the ending of Kingdom Hearts II. So be warned, spoilers are ahead.

Floating around the ether of space was the world of Radiant Garden. This was not unusual, as the world was perpetually stationary. As scientists had discovered long ago, the world did not revolve around the sun. Rather, the sun revolved around the world, which, when realized, set in motion years of theological and scientific upheavals that were still felt to the present day.

Several years ago, close to two decades now, the world had been called Hollow Bastion, as it had been ravaged by the heart-devouring locusts called The Heartless. However, the inhabitants had returned, and had rediscovered its lost name as they rebuilt the city that was the world’s namesake.

After the city had been sufficiently rebuilt, explorers had begun to venture forth beyond the forsaken citadel called Villains Vale, into territory that hitherto had been labeled Here There Be Dragones. Unsurprisingly, as is the case with exploring, they had found that the world did not comprise solely their city, and was far larger than the star charts** had originally shown.

One such newly discovered area was Golmore Jungle, a place held sacred by the rabbit-like Viera. There had been an impasse between the two cultures, as the humans needed wood and seeds from the forest for agriculture, while the Viera took offense at the intrusion of alien presences in their wood. Both sides lived in an uneasy truce that said “We’re watching you, and if you do anything that we don’t like, you’ll get yours coming to you.”
It didn’t help matters either that a Heartless General called Fenrir had recently made the jungle its home.

** Interstellar travel was a common phenomenon, made possible by the use of Gummi Ships. Oddly, often the visual guides of a given planet resembled less an actual orb (or turtle, or giant spinning triangle, as the case may be) than what could kindly be described as an orb-like ornament, similar to those found on Christmas Trees or stores exclusively selling a company’s movie merchandise.

A glum mood hung over the encampment. They had made their way to the outskirts of the Golmore Jungle, had battled against beast and Heartless alike, and were now trying to figure out what exactly were the edible parts of a cooked Purple Panther On A Spit.

“I think,” mused a young man with spiky hair, “that the leg isn’t so bad.”

“At leasht it’sh edible,” muttered one of his companions, as he pecked and nibbled at his leg with his beak. “Not like thoshe whishkers.”

The young man tried hard to resist a chuckle right then. “Yeah, but you have to admit, that was an interesting experience Donald.”

“Intereshting my phanny! You wouldn’t be calling it intereshting if electricity had gone through your body Shora!”

“True enough,” said Sora. He knew better then to start a fight with the feathered wizard. Best to let him gripe then to get him riled up even more. He had learned at least that much in the last five years.

Sora wasn’t the boastful type. Despite having saved the galaxy twice from the madman Xehanort, or at least from his two remnants, he had tried to focus more on his new career as a Huntsman then on being everybody’s hero. After all, who else was better qualified to go after Heartless and Nobody*** Hunts then a Keybearer?

Yet this wasn’t like other Hunts, thought Sora as he looked to their silent third companion. He had been quietly eating some of the panther’s side, never really looking at the others.

“Hey, you doing okay?” said Sora.

“I am fine, thank you,” replied the man, raising his hound face at Sora in acknowledgement. “Despite my current status, I remember a feeling of tranquility in your company.”

He really wasn’t Goofy, thought Sora as he stared in wonder. Goofy would never have talked in such a formal, crisp manner.

“Well...glad to hear it,” said Sora nervously. After a moment of looking at his dinner, Sora asked, “Um, Goo....”

“It’s Xyogof, Sora.”

“Right, sorry.” Sora would never get used to that. “Xyogof, are you sure we’re on the right track? I mean, are you sure this is your Heartless’ home?”

Xyogof stared at the young man for a while, before quietly saying, “I should think, Sora, that I would be able to find my own Heartless. Give me at least that much.”

“Right, of course.” Sora embarrassedly looked back to his medium cooked panther leg. He didn’t know what to think anymore. On the one hand, he always had distrusted the Nobodies. After all, their leaders, Organization XIII, had caused the downfall of countless worlds and civilizations to get back their hearts and become whole. Yet now, here he was, traveling with the Nobody of one of his best friends, on the hunt for a Heartless General to restore said friend.

“Damn,” muttered Sora as he bit into the leg, “how did it come to this?”

*** The left over body and soul of a Heartless victim. Unable to feel emotions, they had banded together four years ago to create an artificial Heart of All Worlds, Kingdom Hearts, in order to become whole again. Needless to say, their methods of doing so were less then admirable.

* * * * *

“....Watch out for that Bookmaster...”

“....Sora, Lance Soldier behin’ you...”

“....Thunder Thunder THUNDER!!! Quaaaack....”

“....Goofy!”

Xyogof bolted upright in his tent, nearly crying out in terror. That nightmare again, thought the hound man.

Silently, the Nobody guard got out of his tent. Their campfire was slowly beginning to die down. Adding more fuel to it, Xyogof sat on a stump as he looked around. The three tents quivered slightly as a wind blew through the forest. From the distance, he could hear a wolf howling at the moon high above.

Ye gods, thought Xyogof, what if that’s him? Goofy’s...my Heartless?

Xyogof hated the idea that somewhere out there was a portion of himself, wreaking havoc upon the land. Heartless needed only a general to change from aimless pests to a well-organized hive. It was why many of the Hunts throughout the worlds were either of the extraordinary native monster variety or of Heartless Generals. Why go through the body, after all, if you could cut off the head?

But this time its mine. The thought alone drowned out all others. This time, it wasn’t some strange Heartless, just another to add to the collection like The Phantom in Neverland or Kurt Zisa in Agrabah. This time, it was one born of the darkness within the Captain of Disney Castle. And if he didn’t reunite with it, then some other Hunter would kill it.

The thought made Xyogof uneasy in his stomach.

The fire sufficiently burning, Xyogof headed off down one of the two branching paths from their camp. While he could feel the eyes of the forest’s denizens on him as he left the protective light, remnants of fear didn’t stop him. After all, if there was one thing that Nature disliked, then it was a Nobody. The animals would leave him alone.
The hound in him soon took over, leading him off the path and into dense vegetation. Expertly weaving through it, he eventually found himself going through less and less forest growth. Finally, it stopped altogether.

The forest had brought him to a clearing on a hill. As he passed through it, he found that it overlooked a good portion of the jungle. He even thought he could see some parts of Eryut Village, home of the Viera.

As he seated himself on a log, Xyogof hunched over and folded his hands. Looking out over the clouded horizon, he sighed, and said, “Throne of ashes and crown of pain, I am a sovereign of sorrow, and know only a mournful reign.”

“Yet it does not have to be so,” said a voice. Darting up, Xyogof unsheathed his shield, attaching it to the chain around his left arm.

“So he really is one of us now,” said another voice, different via its refined tone. “His stance is entirely different from his old self.”

“What does it matter? He will be made to pay for what he has done to us.” The third voice had a suave roughness to it that seemed familiar.

“Not necessarily,” said the first voice. “After all, how long has it been since there was another Noble Nobody?”

Xyogof growled, trying to smell their location. While Goofy had never really thought of using his inherited natural abilities, Xyogof had found them indispensable. Now, a light film came over his eyes as he saw the colors of the myriad scents around him. Yet, despite the concentrated ‘shapes’ left over from the Wood’s inhabitants, he could not smell out this new threat.

“Alright, show yourselves,” shouted the hound man, his muscles tensing as fingers played with the chain.

“If you insist,” said the first voice, his mocking tone accompanied by the other’s harsh laughter.

A few meters away a dark portal, one of the gateways of darkness, materialized. From it stepped out a robed man, his head covered by a large black hood. Raising his arms before him, two more portals appeared, each leaving a like-clothed man behind.
“No...You’re all dead! I saw you all die myself!” Xyogof scowled, remnants of fear and hate fighting for dominance in his voice.

“In a way,” said the apparent leader, “you did.” As he said this, a wind had begun to move through the forest. As clouds rolled past, hidden moonlight fell upon the clearing, allowing Xyogof to truly see them. While similar, the cloaks weren’t the pure black of the Organization. Instead, on each arm were stripes, each a pure white. Counting, Xyogof noted that the leader bore only one stripe, while another bore two, and the last three on each arm.

“Who are you?” said the Nobody guard, mimicking uncertainty.

“We,” said One-Stripe, “are the Horsemen. Nobody Superiors like yourself, who seek to gain our hearts back from the scattered winds. When Xemnas’ legacy was shattered by Ansem’s machine, our hearts were lost to the ether.” As he continued, Xyogof thought he saw a faint glimmer of moonlit teeth within the hood. Vaguely feline teeth.

“Yet we are a persecuted race. As both Darkness and Light fight us, we of the Twilight must band together.” One-Stripe walked closer to Xyogof, stopping just short of his chained shield’s radius. “If we are to make our mark on this world, if we are to stand up against those who would destroy us without grievance, we must stand together.”

“And what makes you think I would join with you?”

“Because you know what it is like to be us. You know the looks Somebodies give us when they learn what we are.”

Xyogof looked away momentarily. Yes, he did know now what it was like to be a Nobody, to know that many would deny your existence simply because they thought you didn’t deserve it. Yet that didn’t stop him from knowing who he truly was. Besides, this seemed a bit too good to be true.

“And what if I refuse?” said the hound man, returning to alternating his watch between One-Stripe and the others.

“How can you? You are a Nobody. Eventually, your ‘friends’,” One-Stripe spat at the word, “will turn on you. Twilight is all you have left.”

Xyogof growled then, in the way that an angry dog does when about to attack someone it hates. “How dare you say such things about my friends,” said the hound man, anger remnants in his voice. “Though I may be a Nobody now, I am not of the Twilight. I follow the path of Dawn, and have no interest in whatever you have to offer.”

“In that case,” began Three-Stripe, summoning a large, shotgun-like weapon to his hands and aiming it at Xyogof, “you are of no use for us.”

“Hold your fire,” barked One-Stripe, turning slightly to glare at his companion. A moment of silence, thick with meaning, passed between the two. Finally, Three-Stripe grunted in accordance, and lowered the gun.

Turning back, One-Stripe regarded Xyogof thoughtfully. “My Other would not have stopped him,” he said, “but fortunately for you, I am wiser then he. A war is coming, Xyogof, Nobody of Goofy Goof, and the Nobodies will be caught in the crossfire.”

Tacking something from a pocket, One-Stripe flung an object towards Xyogof. Deftly catching it, the hound man glanced down. It was an orb, purplish-blue and bearing the Club-like symbol of the Nobodies.

“That,” said One-Stripe, pointing at the orb, “is a key to your inner power. Each Nobody Superior has one. While most Superiors gain them from constant training, some of us can only use them once they have been unlocked by Nobody Materia.”

Noticing Xyogof’s suspicious stare, One-Stripe laughed. “Your mistrust is understandable. Yet I am thinking of our kind’s survival. If we Nobodies are to ensure that we are not cast off, if we are to become Somebodies again, then we must look out for one another. Infighting will only serve those who seek to destroy us.” At that, he glanced at his subordinates, as if to make the point clear to them as well.

Xyogof looked at the materia. What remained of the old Goofy told him to chuck it over the ridge and forget about it. Yet his other side, the Goofy who now knew what it was like to be a Nobody said Keep it. It may prove useful to yourself and your friends when you need it. Xyogof went with the later voice.

Pocketing the orb in his pant’s pocket, Xyogof said, “As is custom, I thank you for the gift. Yet do not think that this gains my allegiance. I will not abandon my friends.”

“Fair enough.” One-Stripe shrugged, and raised his right hand in signal. As he waved it in a vertical motion, the others nodded, and disappeared in summoned dark portals.

“You and I are very much alike, Xyogof,” said One-Stripe once they were alone. “We both did not start off as humans, and we both have grown wiser because of our curse.”

If the second part of the statement bothered Xyogof, he didn’t show it. Instead he showed a stoic face and said, “I highly doubt that. I am not a warmonger. I am simply a captain of the guard. You claim a war is coming. What makes me believe that you aren’t actually helping it happen?”

“Nothing. However, I expect that soon, you will see my prophecies come true.” Summoning a dark portal behind him, One-Stripe turned. Casting one last look at him, the Horseman sighed, and then walked through, disappearing in the vortex.

After waiting for a few minutes, Xyogof relaxed his guard. Unfastening his shield from its chain, he thought. Not over what the Horsemen had said, but rather of their scents. He could not place them, yet somehow, they reminded him of people that he had met long ago. The sort of people that you see in a store that trigger some twinge of recognition, yet you can’t for the life of you remember where you had seen them. They were exactly like that. But why?

It was their scent, he decided, as he made his way back to camp. Somehow, their scents were similar to ones that he had smelled possibly years before. If only I had more time, he thought as he made his way through the thickening underbrush. Then I could have placed them.

Finding the path again, Xyogof made his way back to the camp. The fire had eaten away more of the wood, but it still burned well. Adding more fuel for it, the hound man sat on his stump again before tacking the materia out of his pocket.

Fiddling it around in his fingers, Xyogof looked out around the camp and the forest beyond. Whispering, “I will not abandon my friends,” he pocketed the materia, and took vigil for the night.

* * * * *

I hope you all enjoyed the first act; the intermission scene between this and the second act is up next.