Part One: The Holographic Universe
Chapter One: A Dream By Any Other Name...
Section One: Apathy




Laying down in the grass of her forest, Aradria watched the clouds sail by for what seemed like several hours. It seemed from her perspective that time didn't particularly exist, and that no matter how much time was going by, the sun still shone high in the sky over her. Glancing to her right as she strectched her arms out into the grasses, letting individual blades in between her fingers, and giggling at their touch. She gazed into a grove of trees that was several yards away, which was her favorite part of the park.
Something moved in the shadows beneath the canopy of leaves overhead. This caused Aradria to narrow her eyes in an attempt to identify the source of the movement. Sitting up, she saw it again, and was compelled to track it down. It was after all, in her favorite area, and she felt an urge to protect her territory suddenly. Brushing off her instinctual reaction, she did begin to walk toward the trees, until she saw it again. Whatever it was it was quite large and quite camouflaged. Aradria couldn't track it with her eyes, when she saw movement it would be gone by the time she could focus on it. Disregarding any thoughts of her own personal safety, she entered the grove to get closer, and saw it.
To say that it was a tree did not quite convey what it was, as trees do not customarily move on their own. The lower roots were writhing in a synchronized dance, which propelled the upper body/trunk along, until the tree creature turned to Aradria. Two knotholes in the tree stared at her from what could be it's face, though it lacked any other facial features.
At making eye contact, it conveyed a message to Aradria, that was neither speech or thought. She simply knew what it wanted her to know. That it was leaving the grove of trees, and would miss her visits. It was in danger if it stayed there, and that he hoped to see Aradria again.
The tree creature turned back the way it was traveling, which Aradria noted was north, and began to dance away.
Aradria knew she would miss her friend, even if she didn't know they were friends until just that moment.



Aradria's alarm clock went off, an annoying klaxon that sped up if left alone. She rolled over, slapped the snooze with anger, before curling back into her covers. Nine minutes later it went off again, and again, it was slapped into silence. It was nine forty in the morning, and she was very pissed off about it.
Not because she was waking up, that was an accepted level of annoyance. Rather that it was before noon. She had no problem later in the day, but getting up before noon was such a drag. You had to achieve a certain level of consciousness before you could do anything remotely considered productive. With a slow groan, she reached toward the infernal device and slapped a few random buttons until the blessed silence returned.
Somewhere between awake and asleep, she was aware of movement in the kitchen, and tried to put it out of mind. Hoping it was part of a dream, she waited, disappointed to hear footsteps approach her bedroom door. It wasn't a dream, it was a roommate. The knock that followed, confirmed her suspicions.
"Wake up, butt-head! The coffee's ready!" The magic word had been uttered, 'coffee' , and Aradria could no longer help herself. She had to get up now, irritated or not.
Throwing back the covers, she grunted acknowledgment toward the door. Stumbling out of bed, she strained to open her eyes enough to find her robe, and pull it around her. Not bothering to take off the shirt she slept in, nor her wool pajama pants, she shuffled her feet toward the door. Pulling her faded, blue bangs behind her ears, she reached for the knob and struggled with it for a moment before something caught.
Brigit was in the hallway on the other side of the door, her greeting smile in stark contrast to Aradria's scowl. Holding up a steaming mug of coffee, Brigit backed up a step to allow passage for both of them in the hall.
"The way you like it." Brigit offered. Mumbling something that was almost a 'thank you', Aradria gave up and took the mug. After the first sip she sighed, then stumbled in the general direction of the back porch. Stopping at the sliding glass door, she craned her neck around to Brigit, who had gone back into the kitchen. Clearing her throat, Aradria considered her first complete sentence of the day.
"You working today?" She almost scolded herself. That was not a complete sentence. Brigit smiled brightly at her and replied.
"Not today! I requested the day off awhile back. I needed the time to get ready for something important."
Aradria made a sound that wasn't quite a grumble, not bothering to find out what was so important, and slid the glass door open. Stepping out onto the cold wooden porch, she realized with a start that her feet were bare, as she could feel the faint moisture of the morning dew upon the soles of her feet. Her first realization was that she still wasn't exactly awake, but was approaching it. Closing the door and reaching for the small porch table, she picked up her lighter and fished a cigarette out of the pack that lay next to it. Then she flops on the nearest plastic chair. Mug in hand, lighter in other, smoke dangling from her lips, before she even looks out to the world beyond her porch. The trees directly in front of her act as a border between her home and the large park on the other side. Usually hearing the laughter of children that remain unseen, the only way Aradria liked children. But the border of trees was so dense, that if one did not know the park was there, they would see the beginnings of a forest. Aradria loved the trees, and would find herself pretending that the outside world didn't exist for small moments. Nothing would exist except her, the porch, and her trees. They were her consolation prize for participating in the game of life.
Her second floor porch faced east, and in the morning Aradria is usually greeted by the sun coming up behind Mt. Hood. The mountain is in darkness, the light behind almost blinding. Turning back to the trees, she relaxes, and lights her cigarette. The sparatic light of the new days sun hits the trees, alternating their intensity of greens. She's suddenly aware that she's not alone, and kneeling down, she pats a neighborhood cat on the head. The grey and black cat rubs against her ankle, making her wool pajama pants uncomfortable against her skin, but leaves the cat be. There's more peace and serenity in the trees than annoyance on her leg. A perfect representation of the small annoyances that pale in comparison to the things she really loves.The cat jumps to the ledge, and fluidly walks over to the edge before jumping to the neighbors porch, scarcely giving a thought to the two-story chasm below him.
Done smoking, Aradria stubbed her smoke out in a black ceramic tray, and went back inside. Brigit was still in the kitchen, scrambling eggs now, as Aradria approached the coffee pot. Now more alert, and after pouring herself another cup, she leaned up against the counter and released a heavy sigh. Brigit didn't even look up, but mimicked her sigh. "Why don't you just call in sick?" She said with a smile in her voice, "You obviously don't want to go into work today, or any other day for that matter." Aradria sipped at her coffee loudly in response. Brigit would often times question Aradria on all the things she did that displeased her, namely working. Aradria knew that her point was to have more fun with life, and to do things that brought her joy, and every time she dismissed it. It just wasn't the way the world worked, Aradria wished it was, but it was less disappointing to let the planet be the shitty place she saw it for. There were only a few pleasures Aradria enjoyed, and they were the less complicated things in life, like coffee. She sipped only a small amount then, and let the flavor wash over her tongue, taking the moment to savor it. She could almost tell what blend and roast it was, like a reminder of something she had long since forgotten. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her.
"Why don't you hate our job?" Aradria asked in an annoyed tone. "Nothing seems to get to you, regardless of how aggressive the customers get. What's your secret?" In hindsight, she scolded herself again, this time for sounding like an infomercial for beauty products. She began to slouch against the countertop, expecting Brigit to say something exceptionally perky.
"Perspective." Came the reply, with no further explanation.
Aradria scowled at her. It was not an answer that she was expecting, nor was it particularly helpful. She sighed and downed the remaining coffee in her mug before exiting the kitchen.
"Riiight. I've got to go get ready for work. Thanks for the coffee."
"Tonight..." Brigit started, and paused until she had Aradria's nearly conscious attention. " ...you're coming out with me, because whether you realize it or not, you need a break."

The Last Terraphim *Prologue*

Prologue

The prophets were like many who came before them in almost all regards, excepting two.
The first of which being that they were three male humans and three female, as there were also three male elves and three female, holding almost exclusively to each others company for a majority of their pilgrimage. People say “majority” only for the reason that it was never made clear whether the journey was successful, or even if it ever ended. Unlike prophets from days long past, they never left the company of each other, and there was no discernible leader. When addressing the public, the best suited was selected amongst them to represent their divine task. They behaved as people who would never forsake themselves or each other, the gravity of their sacred mission important enough to warrant such a disciplined approach. As the bards later told, they were to go to the place where their god was born, and bring about its eventual return to the people. After years of preaching to the known cities and villages, they turned East toward the rising morning sun, and faded from view and the books of history in the world of humans and elves.
The second exception was that unlike prophets that came before and followed after, their story involved neither salvation nor doom, simply to bring about what was to come. It was not a future held to either side of a coin, it was not a dualistic one, and there was no morality. It was a world beyond such ideas, which had come into its own. It was a newborn child, with limitless potential, because it could not fathom limitations. This was what the prophets sought, either to find, or to create if it was the will of their deity.
Presuming their deity was using them as its instruments.

Aeons later, the human and elven worlds were drifting apart, and apathy was widespread. The pixies had already hidden themselves away, the affairs of the world no longer as entertaining. Long gone were the days where an aptly placed sunset would take the breath away from a village. Warlords and persecution and domination replaced teamwork and tranquility. The birth of agriculture brought the have and have-nots, and both elf and human blamed each other for the lack of happiness they now experienced.
Seeing that this would lead to war if something was not done soon, both species went their separate ways in the world, and it stayed that way for several aeons. Over that time, stories still existed of the other cultures, but they were nothing more than stories for long enough that that is all they became.

Over time, both cultures had advanced technologically, and mutual recognition of the Others existence was inevitable. While both side struggled to retain a sense of control over their populace, it was apparent that the damage was done. Whatever happened now was beyond their control, and it was even speculated on both sides that it was not their position to meddle in the plans of the natural order.

The Last Terraphim begins...

Anyone who knows me personally, knows that I have been working on a story. It's no story of heroes in the conventional sence, because we do not live in a conventional world, no matter how we delude ourselves.
It's a tale of a girl, coming to grips with situations beyond her control, as well as how she is connected to them no matter how much she resists. I began this story nearly 8 years ago, and through fragmented files, upgraded OS, and botched external hard drive transfers, I have lost every attempt I made to tell this story. Yet it still exists inside my mind, completed and perfect. Having the time to dish it out, however, is difficult.
I began to realize that I was updating almost all of my online information like a bad habit, rather than putting forth the effort in a constructive manner, toward something I cared about. This is difficult when you care about everything and everyone, rarely making time for oneself.
So this will be a blog for the exclusive purpose of sharing my art and writing with the entirety of the world. I will predominantly focus on my story and other writing projects. This is more an attempt to share my work with everyone, as I know nothing of publishing. I can barely fathom the idea of charging someone for a quick look at a piece of my soul. Can a price really be placed on that? And if it can, does it do justice?
Sci-fi, fantasy, and drama. This is what drives me. To continue to ask the question "what if?" is what keeps me going each day. I feel the answer to every question should be another question. The answer is unimportant, it's the journey that makes it worthwhile.