I finally managed to make a new skin. This one was giving me a bit of trouble, so it took me longer to reveal it. I hope it works for everyone.
I have a few more in the works, too, so all of you who have been complaining that I don’t have any skins, be quiet. :LOL:
And Happy Mother’s Day to all my fellow Mommies out there!! We all deserve the best. :kissy:
In the extended entry, I have written my first collab for the Alchera Project. I chose the following prompt:
Fiction/Option No. One:
There is first person (I, we), there is second person (you), and there is third person (he, she, it, they). Let us try experimenting with a whole new person: the collective point of view. Try your hand at the collective persona by writing a short story using the point of view of a group of people (at least three persons, but more if you’re brave). Word count requirement: let’s say, at least 500.
The courtyard was in an uproar as we were hurriedly escorted down the castle steps. We caught quick glimpses of frightened, dirty faces amid the gleaming chain mail of the soldiers. The stench of fear and offal was nearly overwhelming, but we were not even allowed the luxury of placing our perfumed handkerchiefs to our noses as we were unceremoniously shoved into the glider in a flurry of crinkly petticoats and satin, and the door slammed shut behind us.
The glider took off at once, and we were thrown together in a heap as we struggled to set ourselves to rights against the scant seats. We gazed out of the windows cautiously as the glider made its way into the sky, and away from the only home we had ever known. We watched helplessly as the soldiers continued to burn the castle and its surroundings, the piteous cries of the peasants reaching us even at our present height, smoke billowing starkly against a robin’s egg sky.
The castle had been wondrous to behold when we had first arrived there all those years ago. Lord and Lady Portishire had been most gracious, and eager to host the tutoring of a fledgling circle of telepaths. We were spoiled judiciously by the entire populace, and it was a wonder that any of us managed to get by without a swollen head. But so soon after our arrival, the threats began, as they always seem to when a new circle has been formed. There are always people who wish to get their hands on a circle to meet their own greedy needs. As if we could genuinely change the outcome of any battle purely through telepathy. It’s just not that simple.
Now, as we were whisked away to Goddess knew where, we mourned for our gentle hosts, whom we had grown to love as parents, since they were the only parental figures we had ever known. We held each other close and calmed ourselves through the mind meld, and we remained linked in that way until the glider touched down gently on the edge of a broad, green field, with a snow white tower looming in the center.
We had heard of this tower. It was Lord Cantimoor’s tower. Lord Cantimoor was one of the most vile, loathsome men in the land. He was the leader of those who had coveted us from the beginning. And here we were. We hardly knew what to expect. The door to the glider opened, and we were roughly pulled from the cabin and half-dragged across the field towards a heavy oak door in the side of the tower that was already opening as we approached.
A small, shrewd-looking maid held the door, and she eyed us narrowly as we entered. She told the guards that Master would be wanting us above-stairs. So up we went, us stumbling and the guards cursing and dragging us al the harder. The stairs seemed to go on interminably, around and around and up and up, and we realized we were to meet Lord Cantimoor at the very top of his ivory tower. At the door, the guards stopped and gestured for us to continue inside. It was clear they had no intention of accompanying us. We stepped inside warily, and Lord Cantimoor turned to greet us.
He was rather unexpectedly small. Short of stature, and fine-boned, not the big muscular boar we had expected after hearing all the stories about him. But he looked wiry and strong, and we were hardly inclined to argue after the ease with which we had been taken from our home. He beckoned us inside, and immediately got down to the matter at hand.
It was a simple matter, to him. He wanted to be king. And we were going to assist him in acquiring his goal. We tried to protest that we could not do this, but he waved a hand and we subsided. We were well known through the land, he unnecessarily informed us, and we would be welcome anywhere, including in the king