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Post by Shona Dillards on May 15, 2011 18:37:35 GMT -5
(OOC -- I like to role play with diaries and journals alot, and this is one of Shona's journal entries. And also, sorry if the post is a little cut-off in the middle -- I may have had to leave suddenly  ) Shona smiled to herself as she ripped a clean sheet of paper out of her diary and began writing, filled with a new inspiration. She'd been shopping around Ost the other day and had seen something that sparked her imagination. Now it was finally time to let loose and express her feelings and thoughts in the one sacred place that no one would ever bother her in -- her diary. Dear Diary,
I am filled with a new aspiration to write. I hope you will enjoy this entry as much as I have enjoyed coming up with the rich ideas.
A Country of Fierce Pride
a novel by shona dillards
CHAPTER I
Just beyond the river of love lay the fields of Jorganson, the city that thrived with the fresh expectations America has set for it. New things and experiences await us. I, Annabelle J. Mortenson, have fallen into the depths of the river of rapture myself, free to fly down it in peace. For I wish nothing more than to escape the cold wrath of the world that lies behind me. I want to be whoever it is that God himself made me to be. And now, now that I am in this secluded place of happiness and quiet, I have the opportunity to understand who I am meant to be. My mother and Father wait behind for my return that will not take place. I will never leave this perfect place, never go back to the lifeless, dreary, dreadful time that I must bear through without so much as a single friend or family relation to confide in. I have no worries here. In the land. . of Everlasting Tranquility. |
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Post by Wolfe Haddington on May 25, 2011 18:56:02 GMT -5
The morning air was cool and crisp on Wolfe's tongue as he ambled his way down the open streets of the mining town of Gypsum. Early walks in the tranquil quiet of the beginning of day had become a habit for the grey eyed young man. It was a time to reflect back upon life and all its rises and falls. This particular morning stroll, the subject of fate floated about his mind. Was it an inescapable force, impossible to shift? Or a flexible thing, starting and ending in the same place with many, many routes to be taken? He shook his head, a slight frown creasing his face. Either argument was viable. Should fate be an unalterable path, it would be assumed everything that ever happened would be predetermined, despite the opinion that the action just committed might be a mistake. On the other hand, if fate were an ambiguous thing, each and every choice would open up a whole new road of possibilities. Each argument had equal value in his own mind. When his thoughts came to a standstill like this, Wolfe often wished for a wise companion with which he could discuss such things.His frown deepened and his thoughts turned to a bright eyed, corn-silk haired girl laughing at his foolishness.
" Wolferam! Fate is fate! It cannot be contemplated, for it exists only to cause us strife and confusion. Accept it for what it is, for it surely is, just what exactly, no one can truly be certain."
His steps stopped as he gently shook his head from side to side, as if to shake the image of the girl from his thoughts for the time being. There was a time and place for everything. This time and this place were not the appropriate settings for that particular imaginary conversation. Though she no longer graced the physical world with her presence, her spirit and soul were preserved in his heart. Still, she wouldn't be forgotten if he didn't think of her every other minute. He'd been steadily improving over the years, becoming his own person, but he often lapsed back into the old banter the two of them used to share, only now it was confined to his mind and imagination.
He began taking leisurely steps once more, his mind now focusing on his surroundings. Gypsum had always been a pleasant town. It wasn't nearly as large as Ost or Ess, but it wasn't comfortably walkable either. There were cobbled streets, stacked apartmental buildings and a busy feeling atmosphere. That is, it felt like time was moving forward in this industry driven town when there was work to be done, but in the early hours of daylight, it was calmed. The frown that had been his companion for most of his stroll now found itself being traded for a small grin. It was nice here. He was glad he had decided to take a short respite from his normally busy working schedule to stop by Gypsum on a request of an old woman who desired some herb that grew near the mines were the mineral the town was named after was found.
As he rounded a corner, there was a side street that caught his attention. This path wasn't nearly as neatly cobbled as the main stretch and seemed to be a bit crooked. The quaintness of this curiosity caught at Wolfe's interest. He meandered his way down the path, admiring the flaking stone walls of the buildings that fenced the path. A small rivulet of water ran along the side of the path, most likely the remnants of some busy body's morning laundry. It was, if it was possible, even quieter here. As the path began to peter out into a dirt trail, there was a small group of trees with a few benches and a small bed of neatly maintained flowers. His eyes caught on the gentle spectrum of reds and yellows that hid between the rich dark green leaves. For a moment, he tried to name the blooms, but was distracted by the sound of a rustling of paper. Someone else was here, most likely enjoying the quiet hours of the morning as well, taking the opportunity to delve into the mysterious world of the written script.
Under normal circumstances, Wolfe would have turned and continued to the end of wherever the path might have taken him, but on this morning he felt a faint compelling whisper in his mind that he should discover the source of the sound. So, for no other reason than a subtle feeling, he quietly made his way over the dew kissed grass in search of the source of the rustling. What he found, secluded between a leafy, healthy looking shrubbery and the trunk of a strong, solid tree, was a girl, some years younger than he, sitting with a blank book in her hands, scribbling down such and such as she saw fit. He hadn't considered the possibility of literature actually being written by anyone in this particular place. Feeling like he was intruding upon something with his silent observation of the girl's activities, he quickly cleared his throat and spoke, his voice soft and airy from his lack of using it that morning,
"I do not wish to intrude, Miss, but I thought I might find interesting company in one such as yourself: who seeks seclusion to pen down her thoughts." A smile curved his lips, though his eyes remained emotionless as ever, as he continued,"Might I know what musings you write of?"
He found conversation to be an exhilarating experience, though he often was deprived of it. He was seen as either unapproachable due to his seemingly stoic character or dull as he was not quite the loudest spoken man. Yet, today, he might have found an individual to converse with. About what, exactly, he wasn't certain of. Should she turn out to be air headed and overbearingly talkative with frivolous subjects and meaningless drivel, he would simply excuse himself and move on. Conversations were great fun, but meaningless chatter was bothersome, to be sure.
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Post by Shona Dillards on May 28, 2011 12:50:00 GMT -5
Shona looked up and found herself face-to-face to a handsome, polite young man. Shona found herself smiling and closing her journal, tucking it underneath her arm. "Yes, I find writings to be quite defining of my life. I, personally, enjoy penning of stories and entries that describe the life that I live. My name is Shona Dillards; what might your name be?" Shona cocked her head to the side, delighted -- she may have finally found the perfect person for her. Not a friend. . . but maybe even a boyfriend. The idea thrilled her thoroughly.
It had been a long time since she had been interested in a boy, and even then Shona hadn't recalled him being all that beautiful. Maybe she had found the perfect man after all. She grasped at the chance on her hands and smiled.
"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" She said, hoping to start conversation with this boy. She desperately wished she wouldn't scare him off with her strangeness or her quietness. Most men didn't find her very interesting, for she wasn't much of a talker. But, who knows? Maybe that would all change now, in a matter of seconds, if she got to know the handsome stranger better.
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Post by Wolfe Haddington on May 28, 2011 15:57:20 GMT -5
Shona Dillards. The surname "Dillards" didn't seem to ring any bells in Wolfe's memory as he quickly searched through the mass of family names he had accumulated over the years. She was an pale young girl with handsome brown eyes that had a sense of warmth about them. She seemed to be a bit shorter than he, but it was a bit too difficult to tell due to the fact she was still seated. Her voice sounded much like his own: out of practice. It appeared she was as tacit as he, but, like he, was attempting some form of human interaction on this, as she had put it, beautiful day. It truly was such a day too. The birds had begun their morning serenades, and there were the sounds of footsteps from down the lane caused by the early rising men on their way to the mines.
Wolfe returned the smile, while his grey eyes appraised the rest of the girl in front of him. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Dillards." He nodded, creating a sort of bow with just his head and neck, "I am Wolferam Haddington. Though, I need no titles other than a simple 'Wolfe', if you would." It was very rare for anyone to call him by his full given name, and he preferred it that way. After all, he had, in a sense, become a wolf. Travelling from here to there, accepting what jobs he took fancy in, living alone but not lonely. It was a fitting name to his lifestyle of choice.
He found a bench that stood so that he might sit upon it and face his new acquaintance. It was close enough that he could speak in a lower tone than was common for conversation, but it was still early and any noise too raucous would detract from the rather sublime surroundings the two of them inhabited at the moment. "The day is one of exceptional charm." More often than not, idle chat about the weather was frivolous and not worth speaking of. It was too soon to tell if the girl, Shona, had decided upon this subject out of lack of anything better to speak about, or if she had noticed the unusual sense of rapture that this morning held. It wasn't a tangible sense of awe that the morning seemed to inspire in Wolfe. It was something subtle... Like the gentle kiss of possibility or the whispers of change.
"Are mornings often life this one?" He made and ambiguous gesture meant to encompass all that was this day, "I have found it isn't a common thing for mornings to be so... placid." More often than not, life began at the break of dawn and promptly ended the minute the last candle was blown out. Such a lack of hustle and bustle seemed almost other worldly to him. It was very rare he ever spend more than an afternoon or midmorning in Gypsum, as it was a place for him simply to retrieve what needed retrieving and depart. He spent most nights alone, out in the wilderness where no one truly had any control over the land. It was peaceful there too, but differently so than this morning. Here, it was unnatural feeling, though not in a eerie sense. It was pleasant, and now that he had someone to intermittently converse with, the day was shaping up to be a better one than he had first thought it to be.
"This environment must be conducive to the literary process, I should hope." The statement was more of a question than a fact. Wolfe knew very little of writing, quality writing that is. He could form fluent letters and send elegant messages to those who he felt required some word from him, but the art of creating a book was a bit out of his zone of comforts. It seemed relaxing enough. Shona sat upon her bench, a smile upon her face and the unfinished manuscript tucked under her arm. It was a picture of... Of what? Peace? Restfulness? Certainly she struggled with her own demons, despite her calm outward demeanor, but this was not the time to delve into those depths. She seemed happy enough, and that was plenty enough information for Wolfe. He could see thoughts flash across her mind as her gentle brown eyes examined him like he had done to her. She seemed a bit younger than he, but often times, youth kept the mind sharp, and there was still plenty of the morning left to get to know each other better.
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Post by Shona Dillards on May 28, 2011 17:49:51 GMT -5
Shona smiled and looked at Wolfe happily, sensing he was a gentleman, kind at heart -- sweet and nice. The perfect combination for a boy Shona was looking for. BUt she mustn't think about that now; it wasn't the time yet. She had to get to know Wolfe better before she made any hasty decisions.
"Well, Wolfe," Shona said merrily. His name sent butterflies through her stomach, and she suspected the oncomings of a fierce blush in her pale cheeks. "It's an honest pleasure to meet you. Would you like to accompany me on a walk?" Shona smiled hopefully, desperately wishing that Wolfe would agree to take a stroll with her. She wanted to get things moving along.
Ah, but what would her father think? Her mother? They would be extremely disappointed with her and order her to stay away from Wolfe at all costs, forever. Shona knew she wouldn't be able to stand that. Already she could tell that she wanted to be around Wolfe, more so than he probably wanted to be around her, and she couldn't let her parents' silly beliefs get in the way of what could possibly become a beautiful relationship. So what would she do, then? Keep it a secret? Be honest? No, being honest wouldn't be the right thing to do in this sort of situation, even if she would feel terrible about it later. So it was settled, then. Shona would keep quiet about Wolfe.
"I know a lovely place, through the forest," Shona added, hoping it would be enough to convince Wolfe to go on a walk with her. She could just tell that she and Wolfe would be wonderful friends, if nothing more.
notes;; Wolfe, could Shona and you become something? 
word count;;
I'll add this later; my word counter isn't working at the moment D: tagged;; Wolfe Haddington, Shona Dillards
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