EN World Short Story Smackdown - FINAL: Berandor vs Piratecat - The Judgment Is In!
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Then you're doing fine! I usually don't write anything for the first 24 hours. You're ahead of the game.awayfarer said:
I love the stories I've read so far. Orchid Blossom, you know how sometimes two stories using the same pictures are very similar? Well, not this time.
Nice work. Win or lose, I'm proud to be writing against you.
orchid blossom
Explorer
Piratecat said:I love the stories I've read so far. Orchid Blossom, you know how sometimes two stories using the same pictures are very similar? Well, not this time.
Nice work. Win or lose, I'm proud to be writing against you.
Thanks. I hope to get a chance to read the other stories sometime today, and now I'm more curious than ever. I wasn't kidding when I said life got suddenly busy.
Eeralai said:
Thanks. I'll have a better idea after I read it! Well, read it again anyway with a few days distance.
Dlsharrock
First Post
Note to self: don't ever ever *ever* volunteer to judge a future Smackdown! I honestly don't know how you guys are going to differentiate. I don't think I've seen such a great collection of stories, even in a book of collected short stories, in a long time. What a bunch of show-stealers!
That said I do definitely have two favourites, one of which I believe is worthy of some kind of prize, if not a publishing deal. At this point I think I'll keep my specific opinions to myself
EDIT: just in case that was misleading, I'm not in a position to offer a publishing deal
That said I do definitely have two favourites, one of which I believe is worthy of some kind of prize, if not a publishing deal. At this point I think I'll keep my specific opinions to myself
EDIT: just in case that was misleading, I'm not in a position to offer a publishing deal
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
It's great to give feedback to authors! I know I like to hear people tell me what they liked and didn't like about my stories, and I think most other people feel the same way. Just toss it in a [sblock], so that the judges can ignore it until after they've already made their decisions.
maxfieldjadenfox
First Post
What the kitty said. It's hard to be objective when you only have 72 hours from idea to execution. My stories fall into two categories, I either am in love with what I wrote and can't quite see it realistically, or I hate what I came up with and feel like it's utter crap. A couple of stories that fall into the crap category have been favorably received, and a couple of my faves have fallen flat with the judges. It's always nice to hear other opinions. If one person says something about your story, you can listen, but if several say the same thing, you really start to get a sense of what's wrong or right with the piece.
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Dlsharrock
First Post
Well, the main problem is time. As in, I don't have any. In an ideal world I'd like to sit down and give each story a full and gushing appraisal (no criticism to be honest, the luxury of not being a judge and I don't really have any anyway), but that Dlsharrock lives in an alternative universe (the bastard) so the woefully inadequate alternative is my previous post. Sorry. Maybe if I get some spare minutes this Sunday I'll share in an sblock stylee.
Jenna
I think this crosses the grandma line a couple of times, so if you are easily offended, please don't read.
“We are gathered here today in the name of the Almighty...” We'll just skip the droning here. You've heard one supplication to God, you've heard them all. And I've heard 561 since I joined this sisterhood 3 months ago. Okay, fine. This ceremony was a little different because we were out on the roof top and all. And there were these odd banners that looked like they belonged more to a courtroom than in a Catholic ceremony. My interest was peeked until the traveling head honcho priest guy started in with the same old, “We are gathered here in the name of the Almighty,” shtick. Plus, also, my white habit was itching like crazy and the sun, despite being behind clouds, was beginning to make little red pin pricks into the skin on my hands on account of I'm allergic to the sun. Okay, fine. I'm a vampire.
I know. It's a little unusual for a vampire to be on a rooftop in a white habit during a catholic ritual during the day. Well, maybe it's unusual for a vampire to be in a catholic ritual at night too, just not as much. But what's a nice girl like me supposed to do in a situation like this? I mean, I keep searching and searching for a way out of this crazy curse. I've actually been a vampire for 213 years. Okay, fine. 213 years, 5 months, 2 days, 7 hours 3 minutes and 16 seconds. 17, 18, 19, 20. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. I know it's taken me a long time to try the Catholic way. But, first of all, there is that whole natural aversion to holy water going on. I thought the droplets of water were going to burn holes straight through my brain and out my soles when they baptized me. That's actually why I tried the Catholics before the Baptists. The Baptists use a lot more water. So there's the problem with holy water to contend with, and I've never been one for organized religion. I was a dryad prior to becoming a vampire and dryads just don't do a whole lot of gathering in the name of the Almighty. It just doesn't occur to us.
Yeah, I know. A dryad-vampire? But it's not like vampires go after only plain, boring humans. Okay, fine. Humans aren't boring. Just stunted. Anyway, that's why I can stand in the sun as a vampire. The vampire curse didn't overtake me completely like it does with humans. My dryad magic and tree were too strong for that. Of course, when the vamp curse first set in, I felt like an ogre druggy who hadn't had a hit in 24 hours and his dealer was telling him the shipment wasn't in yet. Yeah, I was that ragin'. My constant thoughts of, “When will I get laid again?” were replaced with, “Who can I dominate now and what will their blood taste like?” So, yeah, I went through a pretty intense S&M phase, and I was a dominatrix like you've never seen, but it's only fun until someone loses a life.
Anyway, I should've kept paying attention to the traveling head honcho priest guy because suddenly I was holding hands in a circle and, whoa, this wasn't the same old song and dance anymore. The head guy, looking a little ridiculous with his beard and nun outfit, started chanting in low, sustained sounds. My name was coming up frequently, along with the words “cleanse” and “demon.” Who was this guy? Was he a vampire hunter that I didn't know about? I know all the vampire hunters out there and am currently friends with three of them. This guy was not on the list. But then the words “evil dryad,” came out of his mouth and my world turned upside down. I could feel part of my soul reaching for the sky, and it was the good part of my soul. The vamp side rushed in to fill the void. I looked around for a potted plant, a flower on a lapel, anything to ground my soul back. But the roof was bare. The sun pierced my skin, and I was once again grateful for the cloud cover.
“What are you doing?” I shouted in a guttural voice that made me sound like a demon in a really bad horror movie. It was enough to break his concentration, and I grasped at the remaining dryad soul.
“We, we, we're cleansing you of your evil ways,” he said as if he hadn't expected the spell to work.
“But you're taking out my good side.”
“Your dryad blood is from the devil,” he replied gaining strength in his self righteousness. “You have brought shame to this sisterhood. You have defiled it.”
“Defiled?” I said, my voice coming back to normal. “Defiled? They've been having a good time so far. I've heard no complaints.”
“Sex with other women is wrong!” he shouted. “Especially in a nunnery.” Then the head honcho guy resumed his spell against the evil dryad in me.
My brain swirled with legs and pleasure trying to see the evil. So he was exorcising the good part of me and leaving the evil vamp in because I had livened things up in the nunnery? And how did he know I was a dryad? Oh, yeah...the wine night. The monks next door brewed some pretty strong wine, at least strong for me. I think holy wine has some sort of weird effect on one magical soul or the other in me. Anyway, I think one of the nuns asked where I learned the things I knew, and I let it slip I was a dryad. Okay, fine. I did a lot of things with the nuns that were probably against their religion. But wasn't it up to them to say no instead of being curious and then blame me later? I guess confession around here was probably a whole lot steamier than it had been in a long time. While I was musing the why's of the situation, my dryad soul was slipping away again.
Anger swelled within me like a balloon being filled with too much helium. I broke out of the circle and rushed toward the head priest. Before I reached him, I noticed a guy carrying a banner with scales on it tilt the banner to the left and look around it quizzically at me. I continued my run toward the priest guy and ran straight up his torso, pushing him back into the guy holding the scale banner as I flipped over in a backward somersault. A collective gasp rose from the remaining circle. The banner holder was pushing the priest off him, but I didn't stick around to see if he succeeded. I leaped from the edge of the roof to the roof next door. I jumped from building to building until I thought I was far enough away that I could go down to ground level. I was going on the theory that I had broken his spell and he wouldn't be able to cleanse me anymore if I wasn't there. You never know though. I might've left a hair or something behind, and they could continue with the ritual using a mere particle of me.
I raced through the streets. Talk about a case of the mean reds. I was Holly Golightly on crack and running as fast and as far as I could. Anger and anxiety were bunged up in a ball in my stomach wrapped in the thirst for blood. Anyone on the street would do. A construction worker was giving me the eye. I know. I was still in my nun habit. Some guys are really into that. I could pretend to kiss him and have him drained before his boss told him his break was over. But he would just be a snack. I spied four more construction workers ripe with sweat and filled with blood. Wait, something was wrong. It was all about blood and I wasn't even thinking about the sex I could have. Where was I? Lincoln and fourth. Three-hundred-five light poles until the end of town. One, two, three...I focused on the light poles. I had to make it back to my tree. It was the only place I could regain my dryad spirit. Ten, eleven, twelve.
Yes, I was in the town close to my tree. My vampire blood gave me more mobility than a dryad has, but I have found in order to keep the balance I require for the sanity I desire, I need to stay nearby my tree. Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven. The balls of my feet bounced like rubber on the pavement. It wouldn't take me too long to get out of town. I just needed to stay focused on the light poles. Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine.
The sun was going down as I reached three-hundred. Paved road and cement gave way to pebbles and dirt. The moon was high, full and shining brightly when I hit the windy poplars. I began to count the poplars quietly in twos. My voice took on the rhythm of a sultry samba and I released my clothes one by one. I was a lone figure among the trees , cloaked in shadow from behind and bare to the moon in front. The road sloped down into rocky terrain at the end of the poplars. I leaped down the hill, anxious to reunite with my tree. The blood lust roared to the surface again as if in a last attempt to claim me permanently. With one great jump, my body dispersed, and I became cottonwood, straight and downy. I sighed in relief and began counting my leaves.
I had planned to stay there a few days. It was, after all, my Tiffany's. But the next morning, I felt a presence on the road. It was a man and he had an ax. Oh my gosh (I find it best not to take the Lord's name in vain, especially when I am the focus of a ritual). There has not been an ax in the area, for I don't know how long. Okay, fine. 192 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, one day, 2 hours, 3 minutes and 9 seconds. 10, 11, 12.... Anyhow, what was the man with the ax doing in my copse? I had to take action.
Running out of my tree, I lost contact with the whereabouts of the man, but I had a good idea of how long it would take him to get to the end of the road. I was sure he was sent from the priest if not the priest himself and was doing a good job of tracking me. I would just have to put forth my most charming effort. I got to the hill and began to climb. The nakedness would work for me. Now for a pitiful look with the morning sun shining down on me. All I needed were my eyes glowing bright blue, ever so slightly. I was working it and there he was bending down to make his way on the hill to my tree.
“Some might say the glowing eyes are cheesy, but I rather enjoy them,” he said.
“What the...who the...” I started sliding down the hill on little pebbles and suddenly I needed help to keep my balance. I made myself slide faster and fall so I wouldn't have to take his help. I stood up and dusted myself off. I only had a few scratches, so no big whoop. I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “Just who do you think you are coming to my tree all naked like that and carrying an ax, mister?”
And he certainly was naked as a jaybird. I've never understood that phrase. Aren't all animals naked? Why is the jaybird singled out? And really, jaybird is not accurate for him. It was more like naked as a wolf. His whole body was quite hairy. His neck was strong and I could see the pulse beating on it. His blood would be healthy and make the vamp in me stronger.
“I was trying to disguise myself as a satyr?”
“Well,” I said, ripping my eyes away from his neck to look down. “You're not satyr size.”
“Really? Angels aren't bigger than satyrs? That doesn't seem right.” He was heading down the hill now with the ax swinging gently in one hand.
I shrugged. “It's kinda their job to be big. And they have better manners than angels on account of they don't bring axes around with them.”
“I'm sorry about the ax. Really I am. Why don't we have a little chat?”
“Little chat? Why do you look familiar to me? Oh, your the banner guy. I don't want to talk to you since you were trying to rip my soul out of me. The good part, I might add, so just take your ax and your small angel parts and move along.” Okay, fine. He was big . But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Besides, I was much more drawn to his neck. Angel blood would be sweet and powerful. No, no. I couldn't give in now. Really, I'm a good girl.
“That's what we need to talk about. You are not exactly what we thought you were. That is troublesome. When George contacted us saying he needed help in ridding a demon from his order, I wondered why I hadn't felt your presence before. I didn't find out until the ritual was going on that you were a dryad. By the time he named you, the magic had already started. But a dryad losing her soul shouldn't have caused you to go berserk. What are you?”
“What am I? What are you? You don't look like an angel. Is George the priest guy? I don't like him. And I don't like axes.” I was walking back slowly toward my tree. If he was going to take a swing at it, I was going to stop it. But still, his neck called to me.
“You keep looking at my neck. Why?”
“I want your blood,” whoops. Where did that demonic voice come from? There was something about this guy that made me want to eat him in more ways than one. He was sinewy and good. I could sense he wanted to help me, but I couldn't tell which part of me was his focus. His neck called to me. But as I looked, his hands pulled up to his chest and the muscles across his collar bone pulled apart to release wings.
“I am an Arch-Angel, Jenna,” he said. “The Almighty has taken a renewed interest in earth and has sent out some of us to see what is going on. Obviously, I am rusty. I did not see the vampire curse in you right away. Unfortunately, there is only one way for you to be released. Godspeed to you.”
The ax flew too fast even for my reflexes. My head hit the earth and blood poured into the ground and into the roots of my tree. I felt the cleansing of my blood taking place as I always do when I meld with my tree, but this time the blood flowed through the roots, leaving the bad behind. It headed towards ground water and into a stream flowing well below my tree. Everything was whacky-cracky with minerals, energy, and water swirling everywhere. I sighed when my new shape finally formed and I realized I didn't need to count the bubbles going by. I'd always wanted to be a naiad. Do you think that angel guy is still around to try out my new bod with?
I think this crosses the grandma line a couple of times, so if you are easily offended, please don't read.
“We are gathered here today in the name of the Almighty...” We'll just skip the droning here. You've heard one supplication to God, you've heard them all. And I've heard 561 since I joined this sisterhood 3 months ago. Okay, fine. This ceremony was a little different because we were out on the roof top and all. And there were these odd banners that looked like they belonged more to a courtroom than in a Catholic ceremony. My interest was peeked until the traveling head honcho priest guy started in with the same old, “We are gathered here in the name of the Almighty,” shtick. Plus, also, my white habit was itching like crazy and the sun, despite being behind clouds, was beginning to make little red pin pricks into the skin on my hands on account of I'm allergic to the sun. Okay, fine. I'm a vampire.
I know. It's a little unusual for a vampire to be on a rooftop in a white habit during a catholic ritual during the day. Well, maybe it's unusual for a vampire to be in a catholic ritual at night too, just not as much. But what's a nice girl like me supposed to do in a situation like this? I mean, I keep searching and searching for a way out of this crazy curse. I've actually been a vampire for 213 years. Okay, fine. 213 years, 5 months, 2 days, 7 hours 3 minutes and 16 seconds. 17, 18, 19, 20. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. I know it's taken me a long time to try the Catholic way. But, first of all, there is that whole natural aversion to holy water going on. I thought the droplets of water were going to burn holes straight through my brain and out my soles when they baptized me. That's actually why I tried the Catholics before the Baptists. The Baptists use a lot more water. So there's the problem with holy water to contend with, and I've never been one for organized religion. I was a dryad prior to becoming a vampire and dryads just don't do a whole lot of gathering in the name of the Almighty. It just doesn't occur to us.
Yeah, I know. A dryad-vampire? But it's not like vampires go after only plain, boring humans. Okay, fine. Humans aren't boring. Just stunted. Anyway, that's why I can stand in the sun as a vampire. The vampire curse didn't overtake me completely like it does with humans. My dryad magic and tree were too strong for that. Of course, when the vamp curse first set in, I felt like an ogre druggy who hadn't had a hit in 24 hours and his dealer was telling him the shipment wasn't in yet. Yeah, I was that ragin'. My constant thoughts of, “When will I get laid again?” were replaced with, “Who can I dominate now and what will their blood taste like?” So, yeah, I went through a pretty intense S&M phase, and I was a dominatrix like you've never seen, but it's only fun until someone loses a life.
Anyway, I should've kept paying attention to the traveling head honcho priest guy because suddenly I was holding hands in a circle and, whoa, this wasn't the same old song and dance anymore. The head guy, looking a little ridiculous with his beard and nun outfit, started chanting in low, sustained sounds. My name was coming up frequently, along with the words “cleanse” and “demon.” Who was this guy? Was he a vampire hunter that I didn't know about? I know all the vampire hunters out there and am currently friends with three of them. This guy was not on the list. But then the words “evil dryad,” came out of his mouth and my world turned upside down. I could feel part of my soul reaching for the sky, and it was the good part of my soul. The vamp side rushed in to fill the void. I looked around for a potted plant, a flower on a lapel, anything to ground my soul back. But the roof was bare. The sun pierced my skin, and I was once again grateful for the cloud cover.
“What are you doing?” I shouted in a guttural voice that made me sound like a demon in a really bad horror movie. It was enough to break his concentration, and I grasped at the remaining dryad soul.
“We, we, we're cleansing you of your evil ways,” he said as if he hadn't expected the spell to work.
“But you're taking out my good side.”
“Your dryad blood is from the devil,” he replied gaining strength in his self righteousness. “You have brought shame to this sisterhood. You have defiled it.”
“Defiled?” I said, my voice coming back to normal. “Defiled? They've been having a good time so far. I've heard no complaints.”
“Sex with other women is wrong!” he shouted. “Especially in a nunnery.” Then the head honcho guy resumed his spell against the evil dryad in me.
My brain swirled with legs and pleasure trying to see the evil. So he was exorcising the good part of me and leaving the evil vamp in because I had livened things up in the nunnery? And how did he know I was a dryad? Oh, yeah...the wine night. The monks next door brewed some pretty strong wine, at least strong for me. I think holy wine has some sort of weird effect on one magical soul or the other in me. Anyway, I think one of the nuns asked where I learned the things I knew, and I let it slip I was a dryad. Okay, fine. I did a lot of things with the nuns that were probably against their religion. But wasn't it up to them to say no instead of being curious and then blame me later? I guess confession around here was probably a whole lot steamier than it had been in a long time. While I was musing the why's of the situation, my dryad soul was slipping away again.
Anger swelled within me like a balloon being filled with too much helium. I broke out of the circle and rushed toward the head priest. Before I reached him, I noticed a guy carrying a banner with scales on it tilt the banner to the left and look around it quizzically at me. I continued my run toward the priest guy and ran straight up his torso, pushing him back into the guy holding the scale banner as I flipped over in a backward somersault. A collective gasp rose from the remaining circle. The banner holder was pushing the priest off him, but I didn't stick around to see if he succeeded. I leaped from the edge of the roof to the roof next door. I jumped from building to building until I thought I was far enough away that I could go down to ground level. I was going on the theory that I had broken his spell and he wouldn't be able to cleanse me anymore if I wasn't there. You never know though. I might've left a hair or something behind, and they could continue with the ritual using a mere particle of me.
I raced through the streets. Talk about a case of the mean reds. I was Holly Golightly on crack and running as fast and as far as I could. Anger and anxiety were bunged up in a ball in my stomach wrapped in the thirst for blood. Anyone on the street would do. A construction worker was giving me the eye. I know. I was still in my nun habit. Some guys are really into that. I could pretend to kiss him and have him drained before his boss told him his break was over. But he would just be a snack. I spied four more construction workers ripe with sweat and filled with blood. Wait, something was wrong. It was all about blood and I wasn't even thinking about the sex I could have. Where was I? Lincoln and fourth. Three-hundred-five light poles until the end of town. One, two, three...I focused on the light poles. I had to make it back to my tree. It was the only place I could regain my dryad spirit. Ten, eleven, twelve.
Yes, I was in the town close to my tree. My vampire blood gave me more mobility than a dryad has, but I have found in order to keep the balance I require for the sanity I desire, I need to stay nearby my tree. Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven. The balls of my feet bounced like rubber on the pavement. It wouldn't take me too long to get out of town. I just needed to stay focused on the light poles. Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine.
The sun was going down as I reached three-hundred. Paved road and cement gave way to pebbles and dirt. The moon was high, full and shining brightly when I hit the windy poplars. I began to count the poplars quietly in twos. My voice took on the rhythm of a sultry samba and I released my clothes one by one. I was a lone figure among the trees , cloaked in shadow from behind and bare to the moon in front. The road sloped down into rocky terrain at the end of the poplars. I leaped down the hill, anxious to reunite with my tree. The blood lust roared to the surface again as if in a last attempt to claim me permanently. With one great jump, my body dispersed, and I became cottonwood, straight and downy. I sighed in relief and began counting my leaves.
I had planned to stay there a few days. It was, after all, my Tiffany's. But the next morning, I felt a presence on the road. It was a man and he had an ax. Oh my gosh (I find it best not to take the Lord's name in vain, especially when I am the focus of a ritual). There has not been an ax in the area, for I don't know how long. Okay, fine. 192 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, one day, 2 hours, 3 minutes and 9 seconds. 10, 11, 12.... Anyhow, what was the man with the ax doing in my copse? I had to take action.
Running out of my tree, I lost contact with the whereabouts of the man, but I had a good idea of how long it would take him to get to the end of the road. I was sure he was sent from the priest if not the priest himself and was doing a good job of tracking me. I would just have to put forth my most charming effort. I got to the hill and began to climb. The nakedness would work for me. Now for a pitiful look with the morning sun shining down on me. All I needed were my eyes glowing bright blue, ever so slightly. I was working it and there he was bending down to make his way on the hill to my tree.
“Some might say the glowing eyes are cheesy, but I rather enjoy them,” he said.
“What the...who the...” I started sliding down the hill on little pebbles and suddenly I needed help to keep my balance. I made myself slide faster and fall so I wouldn't have to take his help. I stood up and dusted myself off. I only had a few scratches, so no big whoop. I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “Just who do you think you are coming to my tree all naked like that and carrying an ax, mister?”
And he certainly was naked as a jaybird. I've never understood that phrase. Aren't all animals naked? Why is the jaybird singled out? And really, jaybird is not accurate for him. It was more like naked as a wolf. His whole body was quite hairy. His neck was strong and I could see the pulse beating on it. His blood would be healthy and make the vamp in me stronger.
“I was trying to disguise myself as a satyr?”
“Well,” I said, ripping my eyes away from his neck to look down. “You're not satyr size.”
“Really? Angels aren't bigger than satyrs? That doesn't seem right.” He was heading down the hill now with the ax swinging gently in one hand.
I shrugged. “It's kinda their job to be big. And they have better manners than angels on account of they don't bring axes around with them.”
“I'm sorry about the ax. Really I am. Why don't we have a little chat?”
“Little chat? Why do you look familiar to me? Oh, your the banner guy. I don't want to talk to you since you were trying to rip my soul out of me. The good part, I might add, so just take your ax and your small angel parts and move along.” Okay, fine. He was big . But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Besides, I was much more drawn to his neck. Angel blood would be sweet and powerful. No, no. I couldn't give in now. Really, I'm a good girl.
“That's what we need to talk about. You are not exactly what we thought you were. That is troublesome. When George contacted us saying he needed help in ridding a demon from his order, I wondered why I hadn't felt your presence before. I didn't find out until the ritual was going on that you were a dryad. By the time he named you, the magic had already started. But a dryad losing her soul shouldn't have caused you to go berserk. What are you?”
“What am I? What are you? You don't look like an angel. Is George the priest guy? I don't like him. And I don't like axes.” I was walking back slowly toward my tree. If he was going to take a swing at it, I was going to stop it. But still, his neck called to me.
“You keep looking at my neck. Why?”
“I want your blood,” whoops. Where did that demonic voice come from? There was something about this guy that made me want to eat him in more ways than one. He was sinewy and good. I could sense he wanted to help me, but I couldn't tell which part of me was his focus. His neck called to me. But as I looked, his hands pulled up to his chest and the muscles across his collar bone pulled apart to release wings.
“I am an Arch-Angel, Jenna,” he said. “The Almighty has taken a renewed interest in earth and has sent out some of us to see what is going on. Obviously, I am rusty. I did not see the vampire curse in you right away. Unfortunately, there is only one way for you to be released. Godspeed to you.”
The ax flew too fast even for my reflexes. My head hit the earth and blood poured into the ground and into the roots of my tree. I felt the cleansing of my blood taking place as I always do when I meld with my tree, but this time the blood flowed through the roots, leaving the bad behind. It headed towards ground water and into a stream flowing well below my tree. Everything was whacky-cracky with minerals, energy, and water swirling everywhere. I sighed when my new shape finally formed and I realized I didn't need to count the bubbles going by. I'd always wanted to be a naiad. Do you think that angel guy is still around to try out my new bod with?
