Hmm this looks very familiar *scratches head* You just sent this to me!!!

hehe I like the imagery very much

Sorry I'm trying to read this, but there's like mexican music blowing in from my neighbors.
Pretty well written though.

Ah, Mexico: good people, good food, good times.

Yeah, unless you are mexican and live in a mexican household and just stopped eating meat and all the food contains some meat in it.

Yeah, I could see that being prohibitive.

Yeah, I've been surviving off jelly beans, cookies, regular beans, any junkfood I can get a hold of, and food I mickey moused out of scratch for random things I found in the cupboard.

That's pretty cool that you're doing that, but I'll obviously say you should try and seek out sustenance other than junkfood. If I could afford it I'd only ever eat fruit and such. Some of my best local friends are complete vegetarians, vegans though are just plain silly. Honig and milk are too good not to consume.

Maybe some soups would be good? My favorite would have to be potato soup, so simple yet very filling. The starch might deter some people though, but potatoes and garlic are my family's life-blood.

I never though of that, I got to try that out.
I've only made spagetti and it was terrible.DX
I'm sticking to store bought sauce.
I'm going to look up online recipes sometime though.

A good spaghetti sauce from scratch can be a difficult thing.

Everything I do cook that isn't one of those consumerist-food-things, comes from some old world-cuisine cooking books.

I don't know if they'll be readily available where you live, but gnocchi or quinoa seeds are some other foods I can recommend.

Never heard of them, but I can look them up.

They're a health food store kind of food.

Gnocchi soup looked pretty apetizing.
Quinoa looks like gelatinous rice.

Yep. I eat a fair lot of gnocchi soup as well, mind you I eat chicken and gnocchi soup, but that's more than likely not what you're interested in.

Quinoa will work in any situation rice would. When cooked they do seem mildly tacky and gelatinous, I suppose. I like to eat quinoa seeds both raw and cooked.

I'll try and find recipes online and see if my local supermarket has the ingredients.
If not, I'll stick to patatoe soup.

Glad my input was of help.

Would have replied sooner, but I found an unknown species of spider on the wall right by my bed. Caught it and feverishly looked to identify it. We've got rather poisonous spiders where I live so I had to make sure. Oddly enough, I kept getting referenced back to an Australian species of brown house spider, and google kept taunting me with pictures of what does actually happen when mentioned poisonous spiders around here bite you .

Awesome...

They must know about the comments I made of them recently. It was this beautiful, flesh-rotting, pus-wrought and blackened gash on someone's hand that was roughly four inches across.

Literally, I searched more than a dozen different things and every single time that picture was one of the first on Google Images.

That is epic.

Search 'hobo spider' on Google Images if you're curious of the wound. At my last house I shared my room with those things.

I don't want to see it.DX

So, you live in australia?

Yeah, it's pretty unsettling for some. The hobo spider is a relative of the brown recluse spider. Its bite is comparable to the black widow/red back.

'Fraid I don't. I currently reside in Western Canada, the Eastern Kootenais to be specific. Lots of ancient old-growth forests and not many people.

Creepy on both responses.

I've been an arm's breadth from a bear cub out here. Thankfully the mum wasn't around my porch too, 'cause that would have been the worst Monday ever.

That would've sucked.
Must've been cool being that close though.

It was, and it was also the only time I've ever seen a bear.

Did you try to pet it?

No, I only beheld it before shooing it away. Most wildlife here, if not small, is potentially dangerous.

It was playful and inquisitive, but still a bear.

Of course.
If I was you, you'd be dead.

Not necessarily. It might have let me prod it, after all it was sniffing at my foot and not worried in the slightest at the presence of a young rapscallion. It's just a respect of the other walkers of the land. I was always pretty good with animals, even before I relearned to be extroverted around other people.

It's funny. I used to prowl and scour the old woods when my mum was at her worst after what happened to my father. I was not even of a reproductive age, alone to my fancies in the forest, where pumas prowl, cats so great, hunters so quiet. I used to pretend I was one of them, creeping around my own beaten paths, raiding the landlord's goat barn (really just hiding out in the loft and watching the weirdos). I've slept in the hay stack more than once. It was such a warm place, even in the winter. One heed of experience however: fresh goat's milk was never something I wished I tasted after being spoiled by store-bought cow's milk my whole life.

So you see, if you were I, and I was to truly be displaced from the living, it would have been by fate's hand in the forest, not a cub upon the lakeside property.

That's a pretty interesting life you have.
It's crazy how nature and nuture work.

'Had', I feel is a better dry-fit. That was my childhood. These days I reside in a town with moving to a large city to find a career my future. A town where hick authorities find it more convenient to shoot a bear cub than to relocate it. Not even last year, we had been helping friends move out of their apartment when I spotted a bear cub lounging in a tree only steps away from the entrance. I looked to it with nostalgia before I left. Not even 20 minutes later it was shot and later removed from the tree by the fire department.

Yes it truly is an interesting thing. So many factors can play into both concepts, leaving the resulting outcome unique for all that experience their world.

Oh my god. That's horrible.
You must feel terrible everytime that happens.

Thankfully, I only have been exposed to the one occurrence, but ignorance breeds freely in this plot of land.

It would be hypocritical of me to pity all that is killed by the hand of a human, I, the one who freely destroys arachnids and other things deemed 'pest' to I. But yes, life should not be lost to such circumstances as were thrown upon that young soul.

You know, I was feeling that when my older brother made thow away a poisoned rat in the dumpster.
We put it in an empty cereal box and it was twitching and I could see it's sorrow in its eyes.
I don't know if my family is horrible for doing that to an animal, or if it's a them or us situation.

To a degree, it is like I said about my destroying of 'pests', if they really had left me alone I wouldn't bother with them, but it is in their nature to not relinquish their position, so a peace cannot be given between the two of us. For me, it is the fear of being poisoned in my sleep or when I'm putting on clothes, or to have my blood taken from me when I'm outside. The spiders wouldn't intentionally go and bite me, only in a defensive position, leaving me to wish I didn't have to, but still must kill them to avoid an active population in my home. For you it is that the rat needs to eat, so it finds food to sustain its life, but in doing so causes conflict with your family who worked for that same food and home. If the rat didn't eat the food, nor eliminated its wastes in your home it might have been spared because no conflict had occurred, yet unfortunately that is what happens.

Mosquitoes though, I would prefer that they dropped dead at the mere thought of nuzzling my flesh. The others can be food for those that need them still.

True, when species conflict, one usually must go.

Yes, such is life. Remain flexible or be removed.

Man, I love it when you say things in a smart way.

I can only speak as I perceive.

Nifty.

Often, but not always. I can be prone to 'brain-farts'/'blank' moments when things get stressful.

It happens to everybody.
That or they speak anyway and look like an idiot.

Yes, I could well believe it. I would prefer not to talk when I know I've nothing to say, not because I feel that it would make me the fool to others, but rather because I would betray the thought process of my own self. Hollow words aren't ones that should ever foul the air.

I wish I was more like that.
I feel like I got to respond immediately to everything.

It just means that you've lots of potential for many instances and are opinionated in outlook.

But sometimes I react to early.

I have faith that you can come to qualms with the problem and work towards a preferable outcome. After all, at one time I was horrendously introverted in stance, but did come to be more open with others and apply my thoughts to my dialogue additionally.

Rarely is change swift and without effort, but do not force yourself too greatly.

I won't force myself to much.

This is an interesting spin on the mother/son relationship. Yet, it doesn't seem amiss all the same. The individual power and dominance of the parent that keeps the child disciplined, combined with the love and care of the mother to continue to maintain a bond between the two. The outlook of being a 'pet' here is simply delish'.

It's curious. It's like as if she were more of a father figure to him.

I would hazard a guess that you draw from your own well here?

A minor critique: it does not bother me, but I would assume others might knot their undergarments over a text-block such as that. Not really a problem to myself however.

This is an interesting spin on the mother/son relationship. Yet, it doesn't seem amiss all the same. The individual power and dominance of the parent that keeps the child disciplined, combined with the love and care of the mother to continue to maintain a bond between the two. The outlook of being a 'pet' here is simply delish'

She naturally enjoys knowing that her son has an existantial fear of her due to her [1.8 times the height of an average human] height, let alone her prowess both with large 2-handed weapons and unarmed. Add to that the fact that, in his childhood (which is when this takes place), she could kill him by way of a mere accident or misplaced step of the foot - along with her occasional and unorthodox conversating with someone who is a lover to her who resides in Hell itself, a little nephilim "kitten" like himself - who, in his very early years could fit into the palm of her hand - has some considerable reasons to both fear and question her.

However, along with that dark sense of humor comes the subduing grace of knowing she is his only proper protector (I still have many sketchy ideas as for what the weaker father figure should be like). I have a partial and unfinished story concept typed up that is made of both narration and "pass the ball/character-to-character" dialogue (like my most recent submission about Sheryl's father) between the two of them, and what is there so far entails a sort of "pleasant aftermath" that occurs during an outing of hunting (where she stalks her prey like a beast of the plains herself, literally), after she saves Nigel from the inner body of a "physical angel" (a vague species of mine) that had devoured him under a most unusual pretext. She takes a moment to relax with him, explaining to him what had just happened. It is a semi-erotic "snuff" scene where, after taking down the very large angel (as she is in her more lethal, half-feral form here), she tears open its belly and rescues him from what was an inner stomach that was still functional even after the creature's was slain. It's a comparitively pleasant and peaceful moment, where she explains to him the deeper meaning behind why the creature had tried to devour him; mentionings of "a mother without child" (the angel was female), and how what was an intention of love became a morbidly skewed desire to "be with child" once again, along with an answer to a small and simple question he asks her about the angels.


I would hazard a guess that you draw from your own well here?

Hardly.

Much like something  jelethorim once told me, he draws his inspiration from many sources. That is the same with me.

Coldly enough, my mom HARDLY embodies the characteristics that Chanda does. Where my mom will consciously give free reign to any manner of whiny-ass "I CAN'T MAKE IT!"/"THIS LIFE IS TOO MUCH!"/"I WISH I WAS DEAD! GOD, COME TAKE ME AWAY FROM THIS CRAP!" bitchfest, Chanda is a more reserved woman of strong character, with a personality that ranges between a nonchalant but malevolent outlook on humanity, and an almost perpetualy malicious contentedness with the idea of granting a hapless degenerate with whatever he might want from her, wherein she remains poised to act out in a way where she would give such a person more than they bargained for. And this, in delight. She's not necessarily a "badguy" character per se, and that kind of vague role doesn't necessarily apply to any of my characters. She is simply a woman (and a towering one at that) who is knowledgeable of what it is that makes men's hearts melt, let alone what could be done to further corrupt the more scrupulous among them who would dare attempt to try and become closer to her in an intimate sense. In other words, she may or may not entertain the notion of getting you to try and fuck her, and depending on what mood she is in - and in any case - you're not exactly gauranteed to make it out ALIVE from the sexual fantasy you may have tried so hard to fully realize, though she likely won't allow you to catch wind of that possibility after you've already started to show signs of giving in.


A minor critique: it does not bother me, but I would assume others might knot their undergarments over a text-block such as that. Not really a problem to myself however.

Readers can rest assured that here, there are absolutely no similarities between her and my mother, and by any stretch. And given that the fictitious backdrop is all the more an obvious reason to strengthen that claim, the relative colloquial value of the whole that is their relationship is a thing possessed of a life all its own.

That's certainly an in-depth response you've given for my meager post.

That further information on Chanda is welcomed and rather intriguing. Regarding your 'badguy' statement, I wouldn't exactly consider her a 'bad guy' regardless of what acts she's conducted or set in motion. An individual defines themselves, not a cliched exaggeration or opinion rooted in someone else's fallacy. Plus, this is a good moment for a quote from Ashley Williams: "Good? Bad? I'm the guy with the gun."

It would seem my last bit of word wasn't taken as I had intended, though that is no bother. I simply referred to the fact that all the text was one block, one paragraph. But like I said, it is such an insignificant thing, and one only of personal preferences at that.

Keep on keeping up, fellow. You've got a great mind, and many yarns yet to weave.

In addition: I hope my occasional chats with that have been rooted in some of your journals aren't too much an eye-sore. I know not all are comfortable with the derail in topic.