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  • Listening to: Audiomachine, TSFH, Epic North, Epic Score, etc.
  • Reading: Jurassic Park
  • Watching: Dragons: Race to the Edge
  • Playing: Dragon Age: Inquisition and Dragon's Dogma
  • Drinking: Mtn. Dew
I've caught myself wanting to do too many things lately. I want to write. I want to learn guitar. I want to practice drawing so that I can create beautiful art like all you lovely people out there.

But underlying all that inspiration is a sense of hopelessness, too. There's a part of me that whispers underneath it all: "You're human. You won't live forever. You only have so much time to do these things, and even if you manage to master them, there's no guarantee anyone will like it. Even if you finish that book, no one may buy it. Art takes years to learn, and you may not develop the skill you need to draw."

I'm also quite the perfectionist. If I undertake a project, I like immediate results. While I was in school, I didn't undertake "long term" projects in steps like other people. I chose a day and did the whole thing at once. I don't like leaving things "unfinished". Now, I can already hear the protests: "Art is something that you always improve! Art and music are always evolving; you don't learn them and then be done with it."

I realize that. I want to reach a point where I'm "proficient". That's the part I struggle with. I understand that I can't become proficient at art, or music, or writing overnight. It's a long-term process. And there's no "mastery" for those things. They always evolve, and change. Even if I reached a point where I could be considered proficient, my style would still change over time.

But that's the part of my brain I'm struggling with. I have to overcome that barrier to do these things.

Nonetheless, I want to try. I've decided that, despite my prevailing shoulder/sternum/upper back trouble, I'm going to start exercising again. I'm going to try and learn guitar. I'm going to keep trying to write. And I just might make an attempt at drawing, too. I have some characters I want to share, and the best way to do that is visually. And as much as I adore my friends' art styles (I'm looking at you pencilfreak90!) I can't keep asking other people to portray my story. Not unless they want to.

So, please bear with me if I seem wholly dejected at times, or if I seem to be absent from DeviantArt. I'm working on more art than just my words, and I want to wait until it's passable before I share it. :)
  • Listening to: Audiomachine, TSFH, Epic North, Epic Score, etc.
  • Reading: Jurassic Park
  • Watching: Dragons: Race to the Edge
  • Playing: Dragon Age: Inquisition
  • Eating: Cashews
  • Drinking: Coffee
It's been a little while, huh? I might have a little bit of an info-dump for you. XD

The short version of all this: We finally got our internet back, so I can log in again and post stuff. My dad turns the router off at night, though, so I'm restricted to the hours when he's not streaming movies. Unfortunately, things have also been hectic and I haven't been writing as much as I'd like to.

Also, I started a new play-through of Dragon Age: Inquisition a few days ago. That game is amazing; I have a couple of ideas revolving around it (and some of the other games I play). Many of my concepts are heavily influenced by the games I play, the movies/shows I watch, and the books I read. I think it would be neat to share some of the ideas I have, and how my favorite media have shaped them. (I also got my little bro hooked on Dragon Age. I'll finally have someone to geek out with. xD) My male elf character, Remirin, has a special place in my heart, and will get a cameo (or even become a main character) within my own universe of Kru'ulen.

Dragon Age has also inspired me in other, little ways. The characters were written so well that I find myself drawing inspiration from them, particularly their manners of speech. Cole is a personal favorite. I was really interested in how he speaks, since I've written a couple of characters who talk like that in the past. My other favorites are Solas, Iron Bull, Sera, and Dorian. If you ask them about their past, or learn about them beyond the initial meeting with them, you can really come to relate to them.

I also love the environments. As I wander the Storm Coast, the Hinterlands, the Emerald Graves, the Western Approach, and the rest, the ambiance keeps my mind busy. On the Storm Coast, I look at the endless rain and I think of how wet, slick mud might effect a warrior in a fight. In the Emerald Graves, I look up at the trees and marvel at their height. How might the interlocking branches hinder a hunter on the wing? In the desert, the extreme temperatures would prove trying for even the most seasoned adventurers.

I've also noticed a trend in my personal writing: I have this habit of thinking up fan fictions for universes I like, then inserting my own characters into them. I think on some level, it's my mind's way of testing my characters by putting them into various situations that they wouldn't encounter in their own worlds. It lets me test them, and come to know them better. However, I tend to work with one specific kind of character over the others: my Darkut. It might have to do with my obsession with dragons. xD So far I've worked on scenarios with a Darkut in the Dragon Age universe, the Ark: Survival Evolved universe, the How to Train Your Dragon universe (Race to the Edge specifically), the Dragon's Dogma universe, and to a smaller degree, the universe of Istaria (although dragons there can actually take on a humanoid form to save on space).

I've also been doing a lot of thinking lately. Mostly about my writing. I joke with my family that I live in my fantasy worlds, that I live in my stories. But lately, I've realized that the joke is far truer than I originally thought. My mind is constantly taking my experiences and attempting to turn them into fodder for stories. Conversations with strangers, driving in busy traffic, video games, books, movies, TV shows, browsing a bookshelf at the local Barnes and Noble, drinking coffee at Starbucks.... Everything I do is fuel for the creative fire. I wrote a piece a while back where I said that "it's the little things" that help me write. It's true. Like I said above, how does the environment affect our hero? What real life experiences can I use to make my stories more believable? What concepts can I use to shape my own stories?

I don't intend to steal other people's ideas. Far from it. But that doesn't mean I can't let them influence my own ideas. As an example, I have a race of reptilian beast-kin in Kru-ulen that are heavily influenced by the Argonians of the Elder Scrolls series. But my own race, Neringol, are different in that they're reptilian, not amphibious, and they don't possess mammaries. And those are the simplest differences.

The biggest problem I have is flow. It's been really hard to sit and write ever since I went through basic training with the Air Force. The words just don't flow like that used to. I remember when the story would practically write itself.

Anyway, enough dumping for now. I'm sure you have better things to do than read my rambling. :)

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Tac reached for her left gauntlet, unclasping the buckle and adjusting the fit as she studied Mursor’s body language.

<Stop that!> Lumen’s admonishment sounded harsher than he’d meant it. <Of all your tells, that one is the most obvious.>

The Exo tightened the buckle again and folded her arms over her chest. She watched as the Awoken attempted to stare her down, and although he maintained his combat stance, he made no move to engage her. He finally spoke.

“You’re lucky your Ghost saved you, or I’d have-”

“Killed me?”

Mursor scoffed. “So you’re a know-it-all, too, huh? You’ve been hanging around that Warlock too long.”

“And you’ve hidden in the City for too long. You treat other Guardians like-”

“Can it, Exo,” Mursor snapped, “I’ve heard it from Shaxx already. I didn’t come to talk about the honor of being a Guardian, or the responsibility of standing against the Darkness, or the importance of defending the City. I came to-”

“I’m not going to fight you, Mursor.”

“Wouldn’t make much difference if you did.”

Tac laughed. “That ‘know-it-all Warlock’ would say exactly the same thing.”

Mursor snarled and leapt forward. His right hand was curled into a flame-shrouded fist that arced toward Tac’s head, but the Striker leaned back to avoid the blow, spread her arms for balance, and duck-rolled behind the Awoken. She resisted to urge to retaliate; instead, she backpedaled to put distance between herself and Mursor, and to give herself time to react to his next attack.

<Lumen, contact Shaxx and Zavala.> Tac ducked another Sunstrike and tripped Mursor, once again moving away from him. The Titan grumbled angrily and picked himself up.

<Do you have a specific message in mind?>

<No. Tell them what you want.> She thought for a moment more. <But apologize for waking them.>

As Tac waited for Mursor to close with her again, she took a moment to study her surroundings and realized she’d made it almost halfway through Haven Park before the Sunbreaker attacked her. Lumen’s route followed the park’s most popular thoroughfare: a gently-curving sidewalk paralleled by an immense concrete wall, which was decorated with murals and artwork depicting the history of Earth and the Last Safe City. The imagery was consistently updated with the names and accomplishments - there were even epitaphs for some - of the Guardians who fought beyond the City. During the night, lights kept the mural illuminated for those who visited after sundown.

Tac couldn’t help but feel a perverse sense of satisfaction at the knowledge that Mursor’s renown in the Crucible would never be part of that mural.

The feeling passed as she refocused her attention on the Awoken. The Sunbreaker had closed the gap and was chambering his left leg for a front kick. Tac crossed her forearms in a guard and took the blow. She shifted her weight and twisted her torso as Mursor’s boot impacted with her arm. His foot slipped off of her guard, and as he stumbled past her, she planted her palm on his upper back and shoved him forward. He rounded on her again, angrier than ever.

“Grah! Get over here!” Again, he swung a fist and again, Tac danced out of reach.

“I told you. I’m not going to fight you.”

“Like hell you’re not.” Tac could hear a grin in the Titan’s voice, and though she couldn’t see his face, she was certain he wore a malevolent smile.

Someone landed on the ground behind her.

<Tac!>

But the warning came too late. The newcomer seized her in a choke hold, and Tac reflexively brought her hands up to grab the offender’s forearm.

<Thanks for the heads up,> she shot at Lumen.

<I’m sorry,> the Ghost replied, <he was there before I could say anything.>

Tac berated herself for being careless. ‘I should have guessed he’d bring a friend.’

Confident that his target wouldn’t escape, Mursor strode forward and drove a fist into Tac’s stomach, but the Striker refused to allow him a second blow. She flexed her knees and hopped, kicking her feet outward at the same time. The soles of her boots slammed into Mursor’s chest and sent him reeling as he struggled to remain on his feet.

The Guardian behind was also thrown off-balance as the resistance from Tac’s kick was transferred backward. He staggered, and the pressure on Tac’s neck eased; she twisted and jabbed an elbow at his ribcage, then shoved him backward, briefly noting that he, too, was a Titan. She turned to confront Mursor, but was met with a blow to the face.

The backhanded strike broke her jaw and sent a fragment of her facial plating spinning off into the dark. The park was momentarily veiled in static as her visual systems realigned, but by the time she could bring the world back into focus, Mursor had grabbed the top of her breastplate and was hauling her closer for another strike.

Tac reached for the Sunbreaker’s wrist, but the mysterious third Guardian seized her arms and twisted them behind her back. She felt pressure build in her shoulders, and knew the Titan could easily break an arm, if he so desired.

<Lumen, any suggestions?>
Mursor curled his hand into a fist.



<Those would be?>
Tac watched as the Sunbreaker cocked his arm back, knuckles aglow with another Sunstrike.

<You could apologize.>

<No.>

Mursor punched Tac in the face. Her right eye flickered and went dark.

<Well, then,>
Lumen replied, <the second suggestion is pointless. You know the Vanguard’s policy regarding the use of Light inside the City.>

Another backhanded blow.

<And just whose side are you on?>

<You asked for solutions, and I offered. I don’t want to apologize any more than you do,>
Tac suspected the Ghost winced as Mursor delivered a particularly vicious blow to the Exo’s left side, but he continued, <but it’s just as viable as defending yourself.>

Tac was loathe to turn the park into a battleground, but Lumen wouldn’t be able to make his repairs in the middle of combat, not with Mursor and his mysterious friend constantly raining blows on her. She could wait for Shaxx and Zavala to arrive, but there was no telling just when that would be. Not the least of which, her immobilized arms prevented her from striking back.

Which left her with one option: she would have to break the rules first.
The Blustery Brew (Part 3)
Managed to stick to my New Year's resolution of "write every day". Mostly. Extenuating circumstances prevented me from writing last Monday, but otherwise, I've been doing alright.

Anyway, here's part 3. As usual, Destiny and all related things belong to Bungie.

(For some reason, the formatting is being dumb. I've tried to fix it a couple times now and nothing has changed, so please don't mind the weird italics.)
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  • Listening to: Audiomachine, TSFH, Epic North, Epic Score, etc.
  • Reading: 77 Shadow Street by Dean Koontz
  • Watching: Dragons: Race to the Edge
  • Playing: Ark: Survival Evolved (when I can)
  • Eating: Nothin'
  • Drinking: Coffee
Hey guys! As the title says, I have no Internet. Won't get it back until at least January 15th. That's why you haven't seen anything of me for the past couple weeks.

It's also why I haven't posted any short stories. I'll start posting when I return!

See you soon!

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No one else challenged Akrin or Tac for the rest of the evening, although a few of the Titans who passed their table eyed the Exo with a variety of expressions ranging from respect to wariness. Some avoided the pair altogether. The civilian patrons, however, took a different approach. One bought Akrin another ale, while others smiled as they passed the duo.

Tac was glad for the kindness.

Eventually, as the crowds dispersed and the tavern grew quiet, Akrin stood and stretched. “I half expected him to come back.” He picked up the pair of ale glasses on the table. “He seemed pretty peeved.”

Tac didn’t move. “Is that why you waited around for another hour and a half?”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to miss out on a chance to see you get your ass kicked.”

The Exo gave her friend a sideways glance. “You mean you wouldn’t have helped him out?”

“You kidding? Against you?” Akrin turned and headed for the main bar. He deposited the empty glasses on the countertop, then paced back toward the table.

Tac considered walking back to the Tower with him, just to be safe, but then discarded the thought. He wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion, especially if he was returning to his quarters to meditate, as he often did after one of their evenings out. She flashed him a thumbs-up in a show of camaraderie, and he returned the gesture with a brief grin before turning and heading toward the door.

Tac turned her attention to one of the television screens mounted throughout the tavern, although she found herself unable to focus on the program; she couldn’t help but go over the evening’s events again. She normally didn’t mind Akrin’s good-natured ribbing, but for some reason, she realized, the Warlock’s humor had touched a nerve. Did he really believe that Mursor could so easily best her?

Or, she realized, perhaps it was his support of the Crucible. With Guardians like Mursor taking part in its challenges, it was hard to believe that anyone would come out of it a better Guardian than they had gone in. And yet, Akrin was proof that it was possible.

So why were there still Guardians at each other’s throats?

“Some people just thrive on conflict, you know.” Tac blinked and shifted her attention to her Ghost, who had materialized next to her without her noticing.

“Is that it? Is it really that simple?” Tac tapped a finger on the tabletop, and a tiny flash of Arc Light popped in response.

Lumen watched the Light dissipate. “It is. You are an Exo, so you don’t remember much of anything before the Collapse, but I’ve heard stories. You forget I used to relay information to the Speaker.”

“And what stories have you heard? What could be more foolish than a person who fights because he can? What sort of person fights without a reason?”

“I didn’t say there was anything more foolish. I only said it was possible. Those who fight without a reason-” Lumen paused to think. “I suppose they never tried to do anything different. All they know is fighting, and conflict. The thought of peace and kindness are frightening to them, so they never try.”

“Well then I suppose that makes Mursor one of two things. A coward, or a bully. Maybe both. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let him act out against other Guardians. We start squabbling amongst ourselves again, and we’re no better than the Darkness. Leave the infighting to our enemies.”

Lumen spun his panels, but said nothing.

“Either way,” Tac continued, “we should probably leave. Rin is about to close for the night and I’m not going to be the one he has to kick out.”

The Titan rose from her seat and made for the door, giving the bar’s owner a wave as she stepped outside. Lumen elected to remain in his physical form, and followed her.

“So,” she remarked, “how do you feel about the scenic route? I could use the walk.”

“I’ve already plotted a route through Haven Park.”

‘He knows me too well.’ Tac thought.

“I don’t know about that.” Lumen vanished in a flash of light. “I’d say I know you just right.”

“Oh really?” Tac began her walk toward the park. “I’d say reading my mind qualifies as knowing me ‘too well.’”

“Well, I disagree. I chose you, after all.”

Tac didn’t respond. She was already deep in thought.

If Akrin was right about the Crucible, it could help her improve her skills. The Sunsinger had certainly learned a lot from his time in Shaxx’s domain, and the fact remained that he had become a valuable teammate as a result. The minions of the Darkness found it ever-harder to penetrate the Warlock’s guard each time they left the City.

Tac knew her place among those the Traveler resurrected. She was meant to protect the Last Safe City and drive back the Darkness, not spend her time quibbling over other Guardians’ skills. Nothing, and no one, would turn her mind from that fact. The Faction Wars had seen to that. She knew that no matter how many times she took up arms against her fellow warriors in the Crucible, she would always consider them allies. Even if some of them were gruff, surly, and taciturn toward their fellows.

“You know,” Lumen chimed in, “you come across that way yourself, sometimes.”

“I know,” Tac acknowledged, “but it has nothing to do with how other Guardians wield their Light.”

The Ghost had no response for that, and the Titan returned to her thoughts.

“By turning the Light against itself, we learn its limits.” Akrin’s argument had some weight, albeit for another reason.

Fire is hot. Anyone who had been burned knew that. But those who dared to feed the flames, to explore the limits of the fire’s heat? They learned how to use the fire, to bend it to their will. The first metalworkers learned this, long ago, and their knowledge resulted in the tools that led to humanity’s ability to reach the stars. The same tools that allowed them to reach out to the Traveler before the Golde-.

“Tac, duck!” Lumen’s command came so suddenly that the Titan almost didn’t register what he was saying. Nonetheless, the urgency in his voice must have triggered some instinct in her mind, for she crouched, dove forward, and rolled to her feet before turning to discover who her attacker was.

‘Of course.’

The Titan’s helmet obscured his features, but Tac recognized the Pandion Mark strapped to the Guardian’s waist.
The Blustery Brew (Part 2)
Tac likes to take longs walks in the park. Who knew?

Destiny and all related characters/concepts belong to Bungie.
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  • Listening to: Audiomachine, TSFH, Epic North, Epic Score, etc.
  • Reading: Jurassic Park
  • Watching: Dragons: Race to the Edge
  • Playing: Dragon Age: Inquisition and Dragon's Dogma
  • Drinking: Mtn. Dew
I've caught myself wanting to do too many things lately. I want to write. I want to learn guitar. I want to practice drawing so that I can create beautiful art like all you lovely people out there.

But underlying all that inspiration is a sense of hopelessness, too. There's a part of me that whispers underneath it all: "You're human. You won't live forever. You only have so much time to do these things, and even if you manage to master them, there's no guarantee anyone will like it. Even if you finish that book, no one may buy it. Art takes years to learn, and you may not develop the skill you need to draw."

I'm also quite the perfectionist. If I undertake a project, I like immediate results. While I was in school, I didn't undertake "long term" projects in steps like other people. I chose a day and did the whole thing at once. I don't like leaving things "unfinished". Now, I can already hear the protests: "Art is something that you always improve! Art and music are always evolving; you don't learn them and then be done with it."

I realize that. I want to reach a point where I'm "proficient". That's the part I struggle with. I understand that I can't become proficient at art, or music, or writing overnight. It's a long-term process. And there's no "mastery" for those things. They always evolve, and change. Even if I reached a point where I could be considered proficient, my style would still change over time.

But that's the part of my brain I'm struggling with. I have to overcome that barrier to do these things.

Nonetheless, I want to try. I've decided that, despite my prevailing shoulder/sternum/upper back trouble, I'm going to start exercising again. I'm going to try and learn guitar. I'm going to keep trying to write. And I just might make an attempt at drawing, too. I have some characters I want to share, and the best way to do that is visually. And as much as I adore my friends' art styles (I'm looking at you pencilfreak90!) I can't keep asking other people to portray my story. Not unless they want to.

So, please bear with me if I seem wholly dejected at times, or if I seem to be absent from DeviantArt. I'm working on more art than just my words, and I want to wait until it's passable before I share it. :)

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Oreochema's Profile Picture
Oreochema
I am not a cookie!
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I am not a cookie!

Oreochema means Mountain Winter Storm.

I got the name, originally spelled Oreochima, from a book about prehistoric animals. Oreochima was a tiny, green-and-red fish.

I'm totally and completely obsessed with flying and dragons. Dragons that can fly make me very happy. . . . :D

Current Residence: Somewhere, USA
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Medium/Small
Favourite genre of music: Whatever makes me feel good!
Favourite photographer: Peggy Unterseher
Favourite style of art: Creative
Operating System: Windows 7
MP3 player of choice: Zune
Shell of choice: Clamshell
Skin of choice: My Own
Favourite cartoon character: Hmmm. . . . Edward Elric from The Fullmetal Alchemist
Personal Quote: Without the bad days, we wouldn't recognize the good ones.
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:icondevineshade:
DevineShade Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2017  Professional Artist
Hi hi! How are you? I've got lots to read here...
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:iconoreochema:
Oreochema Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Hello! I am well, how are you?
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:icontiarral:
TiarraL Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2017
Oreoooooooooooooooooooo
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:iconoreochema:
Oreochema Featured By Owner Jan 11, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Yooooooo! How are you?!
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:icontiarral:
TiarraL Featured By Owner Jan 16, 2017
I'm goooooooood! How are you??
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:iconoreochema:
Oreochema Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
I'm doing alright. Working on my creative writing. If I can get to a point where I can start playing Ista again, I hope to work on that fanfic I started. If only for the practice. lol
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(1 Reply)
:iconvoltaic-soda:
Voltaic-Soda Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy birthday!! >w< Hope it's been wonderful! <3 
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:iconoreochema:
Oreochema Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
D'awww! You're too kind! Thank you so much! :la: <3
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:iconvoltaic-soda:
Voltaic-Soda Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
^w^ You're very welcome~:heart:
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:iconunfortunatecorvid:
UnfortunateCorvid Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
:0 Happy birthday! Hope you have a good one!
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