Well, this is inaccurate.
Well, I hope the lj cut is working. I had wanted to take that "I write like" thing that's been going around but I haven't written anything for so long. Looking through the old files my brother managed to pry from his old hard drive, I found several old pieces.
‘There once was a king who ruled over a golden kingdom. The king was lonely for he was the only king in the kingdom but a royal decree by him soon produced three sons, all clever, handsome and skilled. The sons loved their father and promised to work hard for the kingdom. Soon the three had subjects, who helped and supported the king’s sons in making the kingdom fruitful and successful.
The kingdom was very small but now very rich, and the king was happy living with his three sons, until one day the king’s sons began fighting who would inherit the kingdom. The fighting increased so much that one of the king’s son’s daughters was struck by one the other’s blows, fell ill and died.
The subjects were scared of the violence and left the kingdom. And they died because they cannot live without the royal decree of the kingdom. Only the king and the sons and their families were left in the kingdom and the king’s sons were still fighting, angrier now that lives were lost.
Fed up, the king refused to give the kingdom to any of them and locked the kingdom with a golden key, and left the kingdom as well. Locked out of the small golden kingdom, the king’s sons waited to die (for no one can live without the king’s royal decree), but was surprised that they did not die. Humbled by this, they made up with each other, took their families and went out to find the king and ask for his forgiveness and an explanation.
The first son used his boundless skill of sight but could not find his father. He settled in fields and mountains, making a kingdom for himself. A king of his own kingdom, by royal decree he made followers for himself.
The second son was just as old as the first but he was the second son because he needed to be different from the first. He used his deep skill of hearing but could not find his father. He conquered the seas and lakes, making a kingdom for himself. A king of his own kingdom, by royal decree he made followers for himself.
The third son had lost his daughter in the fight. He used his immense sorrow to call out for his father but no one answered him back. Sad with his failure, he let himself die. In death he met his daughter, making a kingdom for himself and her. His family joined him afterwards, and by their royal decree became his followers.
Such was the story of the three kings.’
The little girl was lying belly down on the floor, her legs in the air, her hand holding a crayon on the piece of paper in front of her. A mess of other papers were on the wooden floor of the house, and all were filled with red scribbles.
A young man in a kimono came into the room and stared. What was she doing?
“I’m writing a story. Wanna see?”
The young man smiled and patted her head. He took one of the papers, trying to understand, but all he saw was loops and swirls in bright red. He thought that one looked vaguely like a cat. He gave it back up, satisfied that the little girl wasn’t feeling worried. He began to walk back into the darkness of the outer room.
“Just try not to waste too much paper. I’m going to feel sorry for the trees you’re killing.”
She nodded, and reached for another piece of paper. She was trying to summarize the story in her head. It was very important, she felt in her head, that she gets the story right. The three kings will help her find her mommy and daddy again. And maybe they’ll make fix everything so mommy wasn’t always crying and daddy wasn’t always sighing and there would be more people in their big old house. By royal decree.
What happened to the three kings though? She frowned, the paper still blank.
Mommy said that they were banished from the golden kingdom forever, that they cannot depend on them anymore. But there was that hope, Mommy said while hugging her very tight, that she can bring them back. She can bring all the king’s sons back and the followers too. And nobody, Mommy said, choking back the tears, will have to live in the dark ever again.
She blinked the tears away. And she wrote in clear, childlike, printed letters “I miss my Mommy and Daddy. I want to go home.”
But there was no going back until she finished the story.
Lottie got up, gathered the papers and threw them out to the Zen Garden. She took a new piece of paper and a blue crayon and started scribbling in a language that made sense to her.
‘There was a princess. She was very beautiful but because she was cursed, all anyone saw was hideous monster. Her father, fearing for his daughter’s life, built her a tower and kept her there. No one could see her and she spent all her life, lonely and sad. The one day, a bird came to her. ‘I will be a friend, Princess,’ the bird said. ‘But you have to promise me that you will tell no one.’’
Lottie frowned. She didn’t like this story but it was all that was appearing in her head. She got up, clutching the paper (which was already filled with blue drawings) and found Garth in the kitchen, running one hand through his hair and holding a telephone in another. He covered the receiver with one hand, and mouthed “yeah?”
“Hey, big brother, do you know any princess who was trapped in a tower?”
He shook his head then silently asked why.
“I think she might be the princess of the lost kings. Maybe she knows where the golden key, then everyone could come back to the golden kingdom.”
Garth smiled indulgently and softly said, “I hope they find the golden key then.” He motioned her away. Lottie sighed, and just for that, she took one of the bonsai trees and set it on fire.
I write like
William Shakespeare
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
HAHAHHAHA, SHAKESPEARE. Actually I was curious by who wrote this (the document was simply title Crap). I was actually interested with the whole kings business until I hit the part with the princess in the tower, which I recognized as one of my character's background stories.
“Oh my gosh, but your meal is oh so delicious! Why aren’t you eating? Could you be heartbroken?”
“I-I think so.”
Sunflora leaned in closer. “Who?”
Chimecho twiddled her arms. Sunflora was her bestfriend but she had the biggest mouth in the universe. “It’s a secret.”
“Oh. My. Gosh. Whoever turned you down so totally does not deserve you and-“
“It was the Guildmaster. I confessed to Wigglytuff.”
That left Sunflora left mouth wide open. They were cleaning the table, and washing up to the pool. Well, that shut her up at least.
“Gosh, Chimecho. I didn’t think you’d fall for such a guy.”
“Why’s that, Bidoof. The Guildmaster is so strong, and sweet and caring.”
“Yup, yup, the Guildmaster sure is amazing, all right. But he’s flaky to boot. I don’t think anyone going to be in love with him.
“Might you have better luck? Maybe someone closer to earth?”
Chimecho looked down to the simple Pokemon, looking at her with eyes of adoration. No, there will be never another Guildmaster. She had left her heart with the Guildmaster. There was no denying it.
I write like
Stephen King
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Stephen King? Well, I did remember liking the Stand but I felt that went on and on and on.
The stormy skies slashed rain throughout the eastern part of Hoenn. The heavy drops hit everything equally, painfully. The plains, cities, and the forests bore the brunt of the downpour. All living creatures sought safety of their living quarters, except for the water-borne ones, who rejoiced. It was the fiercest part of the storm-only an idiot would go tramping around in this weather. And only an idiot would continue shouting in a storm whose din overpowers everything else. If that was so, then it is safe to say that at that very moment, between the wild of Petalburg City and Oldale Town, there existed an idiot of a trainer.
-
The young trainer crossed his arms and shouted above the howling wind. He kept his head down, gritted his teeth, and trudged on. He stopped in intervals to bring up his face and shout. Nothing could’ve possibly heard it above the winds but still…
A fierce blow forced Rowen to stumble and fall sideways from the path, rolling up a slick shield of mud and grime. He gasped and struggled to get up. He walked unsteadily, not knowing he strayed from the clear trail for travelers. All he knew was somewhere in this howls and cold bites, his Pokemon were lost for him.
He scraped though the woods, knocking against trees and scratching against the long grass and bramble. He had no sense of time, no sense of anything but the splat, splat of rain against his body and the burning sensation it left behind. A cold desperate feeling sank within him and finally he comprehended the futility of his actions. He understood as he leaned against the painful bark of a tree that he was an idiot.
I write like
Jack London
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Bwuh? Was it all that rain description? Well, I'm thoroughly confused. But now I want to really write again. The latest of this batch was 2008 (the PMD2 Chimecho one) and I'm sure can do much better.
And now I've got to study for an exam on Italian and then maybe figure out how lj works so I can do that icon meme.