Isaac Here

Hey, guys. I was ordered by Cyrus to log in over here and type something for Christine. Thought it sounded fun so, hey, why not? Supposedly it’s to give her time to write our story, but if you ask me she hasn’t written much of anything lately. Well, whatever. Everyone’s gotta live I guess.

The name’s Isaac. Most people who know me know I’m what everyone refers to as a hacker. I can hack into just about any technology you can throw at me. It’s a handy skill to have when you live in my timeline (Cyrus said something about you guys living in the past. . .?) because everything’s technology. Even most doors use electricity to slide open. Which makes my job of breaking into certain places way easier. Or maybe I shouldn’t mention that. Would if help if I say the places I break into are buildings full of very nasty characters? Gotta live for something, right? Might as well live taking down the scoundrels. May not get you the biggest paycheck, but it’s very satisfying.

I have to say, hacking into a blog that was made some 1000 years ago is satisfying too, especially when it’s your own author’s. I’m surprised Cyrus managed it before I did. Who knows, maybe he’ll grow up to be a hacker too. You never know what the little Picasso will do next. Haha! Cyrus a hacker. . . I like it. I bet that would make a vein or two pop from his overbearing older brother.

Me, I’ve got no siblings. Always been the only child. I like having Cyrus around, he’s a cool little guy. I guess it would be fun to have a sibling or two, then again, not sure if I’m the best influence. My parents probably knew what they were doing when they didn’t have anymore after me. But hey, all little boys are bit rambunctious, aren’t they? Maybe not all of them were hacking into official’s computer systems at the age of ten, but we all got into trouble one way or another at that age. Here at the age of 20 I’m a bit more. . .smart about it.

But anyway, I think that is enough about me. I don’t think it’d be right to tell you everything. That’d spoil things, now wouldn’t it? Feel free to chat me up though in the comments. I’ve got a lot on my plate and not sure when I’ll get a chance to reply, but I’ll do my best when I find some free time.

Until then, see ya guys.

The Awesomely Fantastic Cyrus Speaks Out

. . .Or is that too pompous a title? Nah! I think it fits me well.

Hello, Christine’s friends! The name’s Cyrus. Christine’s said you’ve heard of me, but the real question is who has told you about me? Because if it was my brother Elan then let me tell you right now. . .every word’s a lie!

“What? I wouldn’t say bad things about you!”

Go away, Elan, I’m trying to do something for our author here.

“Actually, you’re the one going around spreading embarrassing stories about me.”

Who, me? Nonsense! I’m perfectly innocent.

“So it wasn’t you I saw telling Breighly about the time I— Ouch! Okay, okay, I’m going.”

Ahem. Sorry about that. I assured Elan he’d get his turn to hijack. . .I mean. Ahem! Take care of Christine’s blog for her, and he willingly left. Yes. . .

So anyways, where was I? Oh, right, Introductions! Like I said, I’m Cyrus. Christine’s currently very busy trying to write the story I’m from, so I recruited myself and some of the other characters from said story to assist in her blog thingamjig here so she’d have more time to write. Some aren’t too keen on our story being told though. I don’t know why. I mean, we live a surging life! Full of giant robot things destroying the Earth, and crazy government secrets, and teenagers with all sorts of surging abilities, and a city inside this giant cube, not to mention the—

“CYRUS. STOP SPOILING THINGS.”

Oh, whoops. The Author has spoken. But see what I mean? Our story totally should be told. Which is exactly why I’m sacrificing some time out of my very exciting life to help Christine out here on her blog.

We don’t really have blogs in my time. Oh, that’s right, I didn’t mention I’m from THE FUTURE. Dramatic, right? Although. . .I’m not sure how this works really. Technically I won’t be born for another 1,003 years. Or is it 1,002? I don’t know. Math and I aren’t exactly the best of friends. I’m more of an artist than a matheme. . .tish. . .erm. I don’t know who to spell that. Math-y guy. Yeah. But I was born in the year 3011 and am 12 (almost 13) years old. Then again, if this is the past that makes me negative 1000-something years old, wouldn’t it? Whoa! Surging!

So what was my point in all this again? Oh, right, blogs.

Yeah, we don’t have those anymore in the future. The Web doesn’t work. Well, not where I live anyway. I live in this city surrounded by this humongo impenetrable cube because the Earth is currently being almost destroyed or something or another. I don’t know, I’ve live in the Cube all my life. But Christine said no spoilers so I guess I better not talk about that.

I like reading about ancient times though. The Web, or the internet as I guess it’s called more often in your timeline, is a really popular thing in the 21st century, isn’t it? We have some similar technology, where we can send messages and whatnot back and forth and stuff, but it’s not as ginormo as the Web, er, internet, once was. We mostly use ports, which are these little devices with screens that do stuff like that. I usually use mine for drawing on. You can store like a gazillion pictures on it so I don’t have to worry about wasting paper. Because wasting paper where I live might as well be a crime the way people act about it. I guess that’s what happens when you live in a cube.

Speaking of drawing, I need to go draw some diagrams for our plan of action to go infiltrate this giant lab place so we can— Oh, whoops. That’s spoilers again, isn’t it? Well, anyways, I better sign off. Christine says she’s just about made her goal for CampNaNo (whatever that is) but still only has about half of our story written. Wait. . .half? Boy, it’s gonna be long.

“Hush!”

Hey, the more the merrier! It looks like she’ll still be busy with us for a while, so we’ll continue to help her out with her blog. Isaac said he’d be happy to do one, so you might see him next. He’s a lot of fun. And Tiff definitely wants to try. Elan seems to want a turn as well, since he already tried to take over my turn. And I’m trying to get Breighly in on it but. . .well, she’s a bit more difficult. If you offer her some chocolate and coffee she might be more willing. I’ve never had coffee myself, it’s hard to come by here, and I’ve been told I’m not allowed to have it because I have enough energy as is. Which obviously means I’m going to try some the second I get the chance!

Oh. I hear my name being called. I better run. I’ll be back to answer comments if you guys have any questions for me or something, but for now I gotta go.

The surgingly epic Cyrus signing off!

Bye!

Meet the Characters

Hello, hello!

I seemed to have survived another week of CampNaNo, 17k words in, and my sanity is still (somewhat) intact. It’s a miracle!

In honor of CampNaNo, I thought I’d introduce my cast of characters. I’ll probably be talking about Fallen Matter for a good while. It has sort of taken over my life since December after all.

So take a peek inside my mind for a moment and see who all is currently invading inside there. (WARNING: Injuries, emotional and/or mental scarring, and sanity being taken may occur upon entering Lauri’s mind. It is advised that all who enter has a therapist on hand upon leaving.)

Breighly

Breighly is the main character of Fallen Matter, and since it’s in first person, she’s the only POV you get in the whole book. Through most of the story she has no memory to speak of, so spends a lot of time trying to figure out who she is. Ironically, she has the ability to read, and sort of control, other people’s memories. So yes, memories is a big theme in this book.

Breighly is an extremely skittish person. She hates loud noises and crowds and pretty much people in general. Waking up in this scary laboratory with absolutely no memory whatsoever and discovering you suddenly have this weird, inhuman ability can do that to a person. Of course, her frightened nature may have something to do with her past as well, but no one’s supposed to know about that yet. Shhh.

. . .

The man jerked my wrist up towards him and reached to remove the plastic band. It had spun around, and now instead of the stream of random numbers I could see two words. Breighly Matterdon. I stared at the words, mesmerized.

Trying to find my voice, I licked my lips, but my tongue was so dry it did no good. "What's Breighly?"

The man was struggling to pull the thing off from around my hand. Its sharp edges cut painfully into my sore wrist. "You."

Elan

Elan is the next biggest character. There are not many parts of the book that he’s not right there alongside Breighly. Being the protective person he is, he serves as Breighly’s anchor as she tries to makes sense of everything and handle all the torture interesting events her author puts her through.

Elan is a fun guy, a bit awkward, but quite the people person despite it. He keeps things light, which is good, because Breighly sure doesn’t.

Oh yeah, did I mention he has wings? Because yeah, he does.

. . .

A lump formed in my throat, causing a strain in my words. "Your wings..."

He halted his approach, standing six feet away from my shivering form in the middle of the street. Clenching a fist, his gaze dropped to the ground. His wings unfurled to their full span. The lamppost behind him silhouetted his shape; he was a dark creature, not even human...

"A freak."

I started at the sound of the very word swirling through my mind.

His gaze came back up to meet mine. "That's why you're afraid of me, because I'm a freak of nature."

Cyrus

And then there’s Cyrus who really keeps things light. He’s Elan’s little brother and a mess and a half. You first met him in this post.

You just never can know what will come out of that boy’s mouth, and I assure you, he will say anything. He’s quickly becoming one of my absolute favorite characters. Where Breighly and Elan still need some fleshing out, Cyrus jumped into the story fully equipped with an over dosage of personality. Now it’s all I can do just to keep up with the boy.

He has a knack for embarrassing his brother, and I’m just sure he does it on purpose. He’s great with people though. Most everyone takes to him right away. Even standoffish Breighly can’t help but laugh in his presence, and laughter is not something you hear come out of her mouth often.

. . .

Cyrus's smile was wide and genuine as he grabbed my hand and shook it so hard my teeth clattered. "Nice to meet you, Breighly. Sheesh, Elan, she's pretty. I've never known you to have such a pretty friend. Did they give you some social skills in that Lab as well, or is something wrong with her head?"

"Cyrus!" Elan glanced at me wide-eyed, cheeks aflame.

Cyrus's grin didn't falter. "Well, something's got to be wrong with a girl who chooses to sit so close to you under a table. What were you two doing down there, anyway?" He leaned close to me and lowered his voice. "He's got really bad breath, you know."

Lykan

Lykan may be my favoritest character of all (I know we don’t supposed to choose favorites, shh). You also met him along with Cyrus in the above link.

He shouldn’t be my favorite. He’s sort of a terrible person. Selfish, manipulative, an all around jerk. The antihero type. He’s a pretty charismatic, laidback sort though. His agenda is almost always himself. If it benefits him, then you can be sure he’ll go for it.

Lykan’s a bit more complicated than that though. He’s riddled with secrets and mystery, putting Breighly and Elan through lot of trouble and confusion. He keeps things very interesting, let’s just say that.

And while Breighly can read memories and Elan has wings, Lykan also had a certain ability. But. . .spoilers. *wink*

. . .

The guy chortled. "So what is this? Bat Boy come to save the day? I see they did a piece on you. I guess it wasn't hard for you to escape. Did you help Miss Snoop out as well?"

"We found the aerodite dock open. How did you get out?"

"Simple. I used the elevator."

"Even with all those authoritaters running around?"

"Oh, they were easily persuaded by my..." he leaned to the side to give me a wink around Elan's wing, "charming personality."

Isaac

Not a whole lot can be said about Isaac, because he’s very spoilerific, and I’m still trying to figure him out myself. *cough*

I know he likes to tease people. He’s pretty easygoing and fits in with most groups. He’s the type that is very easy to talk to, and just have fun with. But he also had a nasty temper that you’ve got to watch out for. Once he has his mind set on something, there’s really no persuading him otherwise. His beliefs are strong, and he’ll stick to them like glue. His stubborn personality can get him into a lot of trouble.

. . .

"Breighly!" A strong embrace caught me, ripping me out of the abyss. Isaac held me close, rocking back and forth. "You're okay, you're okay," he murmured. "You're not falling anymore, you're right here with me."

I buried my face in his shoulder and clung to his arm with both hands, fearing if I let go I would drop again. My body trembled with sobs.

Fay

Fay is a quiet soul. It takes a great deal of effort to get her to say even a single word. Even though she’s 14, most people mistake her for much younger. No one quite knows why she’s so quiet and child-like, but it’s suspected it has something to do with a traumatizing past.

It may not be easy to crack her shell, but Fay always wants the best for everyone. Without saying a word, she shows more love and kindness than most people. Her sweet spirit draws people to her. And if you can manage to gain her trust, you’ll have a friend for life.

. . .

Her hands looped the end of her tattered, too-small brown dress around a finger, coiling and uncoiling multiple times. "You're upset."

I just barely heard the words. "What?"

Finally, she looked up at me again, eyebrows drawn. "Your eyes are wet."

I swiped a tear away, swallowing.

Those eyes pierced into me, so large on her thin face. Watching with such intensity, as if they were holding me captive, demanding answers. And I almost wanted to give them to her.

Tiff

Tiff just recently arrived, and she was quite a surprise, being as how I didn’t plan for her to exist or anything. She just thrust herself in the story, expecting me to write her. But despite her sudden appearance, she has become another one I’m growing extremely fond of.

Tiff is a straightforward type. She says things how they are, without giving it a thought. And yet coming from her, nothing ever feels offensive. She’s the type that everyone gets along with, because she never judges anyone. She isn’t going to get into your business if you don’t want her there. Everything just rolls off her back. Her down to earth, carefree personality helps the others deal with all the trauma they’re living through.

. . .

Tiff snatched his bowl away. "Well, I think they were right. Only a robot brained dumbo would want to go back there." She scraped his last two spoonfuls of grits out of the stolen bowl and stuffed them in her mouth.

"Hey!" He reached for his bowl but she held it close to her chest, leaning out of his reach and flashing a very grits-filled smile.

And that’s my peeps! They’re proving to be a very enjoyable cast to work with. Though I don’t think they feel the same about me. Hehehe.

Also, I’ve been hearing some scheming among them about taking over my blog while I’m busy writing their story. Well. . .more like Cyrus planning it and dragging the others along. But if they did manage it, who would you like to hear from first? Or which of these should write a blog post? Because I’m not sure they’ll all get a turn. Then again, you never know. . . They’re all pretty demanding.

Hope everyone is having an awesome day on this awesome date. Because 4/14/2014 is quite the nifty number, don’t ya think?

Bumping Along Week One

Greetings and salutations! (Wait, aren’t those two things the same?) Today I hail from an imaginary tent with a laptop that magically never runs out of power, since there are no outlets here in the wild. Convenient, huh?

We are one week into CampNaNo and things are going well. . .I think? This first week was a little bit rough, being as how all our supplies were taken by a group of flying monkeys and then there was that landslide. And I’m having to type with one hand because my other is in a brace after that dragon incident. CampNaNo is one wild camp. Whoo.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Yeah, I’m sitting perfectly whole in my air-conditioned bedroom, but let’s not douse the imagination, shall we? I find ignoring reality makes creativity flow so much freer.

It wasn’t all an exaggeration though, this first week honestly hasn’t been smooth sailing. Since I’m aiming for 30k this month, the goal is to get in 7k a week. I managed to heave out 8,060 words thus far, but not with ease, I assure you. The first two days of Camp I only got in 200 words each. Not exactly an exemplary way to start this hike of creativity. As the week went on, though, I found more chances to pound out the words. Though I’ve mostly just wanted to take a nap. It’s been one of those weeks. . .

Life keeping me from writing aside, the actual story is going pretty well. I haven’t hit any big roadblocks yet. I guess starting CampNaNo right in the middle of a story has its advantages. I already have my plot going and characters established. That’s often the hard part with the first week of NaNoWriMo. I’m always starting a new novel for it and end of spending much of my time figuring out who exactly my characters are before I can really get into the story. But this time I don’t have to worry about that.

To contradict that, I’ve gotten to the point where quite a lot of new characters are popping up, which actually helps my word count. Confusing, right? It’s mainly because I’ve given these characters a lot of thought and already know them pretty well. I’ve been anxious to “officially” meet them, so I’m pretty excited where I currently am in the story. Maybe this second week of Camp will go smoother. One can only hope.

Speaking of characters, I think next week I shall be introducing some of mine to you since I haven’t really talked about them yet. But for now I suppose I should continue torturing. . .I mean, ahem, writing their story. Except my brother just asked if I wanted to watch an Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D with him. Maybe I’ll do that first. . . After all, I wouldn’t be a writer if I don’t have procrastination down pat, right?