Moronic Musings

A blog that showcases some of my short stories and works-in-progress. Feel free to leave me some feedback and constructive criticism.

Friday, June 30, 2006

Camp Meeting

I'm leaving for a week to go to a Gospel Meeting. But to whet the appetite of those who found this site in the mean time, I'm posting another old story. This is from some of my Star Wars characters that don't get much exposure. I don't play any of them, but I still wanted to write down their stories. Keep in mind that I do not own SW, it belongs to George Lucas, I'm just borrowing it for a bit.

"I Gotta Stop Pointing Guns at People"

"Put the gun down and no one else will get hurt." The calm voice did anything but match the carnage that surrounded it. Dyn glanced at Dojii, his green insides still oozing from the Verpine's exoskeleton. Next to the slicer lay Esseri, her eyes now glassy and lifeless. Still Dyn aimed his DH-17 at Vigo Atrin like his life depended on it, indeed it did. A squadron of armor-clad soldiers nervously fingered their weapons waiting for the Vigo to give them the order to open fire.

The entire plan had gone to Nustafar the minute that the group arrived on Asteroid B-1533. That particular asteroid was home to the biggest casino on the Outer Rim... and still controlled by the Black Sun. Months of planning and several liver were scattered about the hangar floor. But the casino's credits were safely aboard the Transport Wayfarer, a ship Esseri had stolen specifically for this job.

"You didn't really think you'd get away with this, did you, Mr. Grimmer? Not you and your rag-tag Outlaw Alliance," Atrin taunted. The Vigo shook his head. "Really, a group of a few thieves and smugglers against the entire Black Sun. I'm actually suprised you all made it this far."

The metal of the loading ramp clanged loudly as Dyn walked back down off the ship. Every sound echoed throughout the cavernous hangar. The wounded slicer and the dead Esseri were both too far away. Dyn would never be able to get them back to the ship before the guards opened fire. Dyn never took the gun off Atrin.

"You killed my friends. Snuffed out their lives as if it meant nothing. Then you mock their sacrifice? Don't forget that you'll be as dead as a Kryat Dragon on Hoth before your friends could do anything about it." Dyn's voice was hoarse and cracked, he had been up for three standard days and the adreniline pumping through his blood stream was the only thing keeping him from falling over.

The Vigo's smile said "go to mustafar." "You shouldn't blame me, Mr. Grimmer, it was your own sentient that betrayed you."

Dyn's eyes narrowed and his upper lip curled back like a rabid Kath hound. "None, of my men would ever betray me." The Outlaw Alliance stuck together, if they didn't any number of groups could easily dislodge them from power on Nar Shaddaa. The anger at that charge alone almost caused Dyn to pull the trigger.

"But it's true." The Vigo pressed his luck, assuming that he had the upper hand. "Mr. Maverick, please show your friend that I'm not a liar." The Vigo spat the word friend revealing the mockery he believed griendship to be. The guards stipped aside to make a path for the tall Falleen bounty hunter known only in the Basic tongue as Maverick.

Esseri had begged Dyn not to let the ex-Black Sun assassin in on the job. She knew then that the Falleen would be a traitor. Dyn shifted his aim from Vigo Atrin to Maverick. The bounty hunter was the reason it all went SOuth. "You don't deserve to live." Tears streamed down his face. How could one of the Outlaw Alliance betray them?

"You don't just stop being Black Sun, Dyn. It's not a social club that people just rotate their way in and out of." The reptilian's cold voice disgusted Dyn. Trying to justify betrayal always did. Maverick turned his attention to the Vigo, ignoring the blaster Dyn had trained on him. "That being said, Vigo, I must request that you ask your ment to lower their weapons."

Before the Vigo had time to protest, Dyn noticed the cap of the pen in Vigo Atrin's breast pocket flashing red. Maverick held up a small cylindrical device that he was depressing the button on. "I'm afraid that if I take the pressure off this button, everyone within ten meters of the Vigo will meet a very explosive end." The savage grin, that only a Falleen could make, spread across his face. Echos filled the hangar as all the guards tossed down their weapons. They weren't paid enough to lay down their lives for the Black Sun.

"You fools, you think that the coward would kill himself? THe Black Sun will have all of your lives when they hear about this." The Vigo's voice finally shattered the calm personna that he tried to display.

Dyn holstered his blaster for the first time in hours. A lungful of air escaped his lips as the last part of the plan came together flawlessly. The smuggler ran over to Esseriand put his ear over her mouth. SHe was alive, but just barely. He struggled to drag Dojii and Esseri to the Wayfarewr as Maverick made sure the guards didn't jump him.

"You're not going to report this to the Black Sun," Maverick said. "We only took the money that you skim off the top. The Sun's cut is still in the vault." Maverick walked backwards up the boarding ramp. "You'd be a bigger fool that you look if you contacted your bosses about this."

As the boarding ramp closed Maverick tossed the bomb trigger out into the hangar. The Vigo and the guards flinched as it hit the ground and the pen exploaded. Ink ran down the Vigo's pocket. The Wayfarer shot off into space.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Writer's Block

I sat down tonight to do some writing... not really because I normally set writing time aside like I should, but because I have an urge to write something. The only problem is I'm not able to get the words out of my head. I tend to have this problem alot. I know what I want to say, but I can't seem to make it come out right. Grr!!! I don't even know what character I want to focus on tonight. I have many... I just don't know.

For the passerbys, how do y'all solve writer's block? Anything special that you do? I have a whole host of writing excercises but I never can seem to find one that I want to do. I have about half a dozen stories that I've started on and never finished, but I can't seem to find a muse to smile on me.

I RP (role play) at a site called the Gungan Council. I have about three characters that are currently active there (well they would be if I was currently active, but RL has given me little time... and also took away that creative outlet for me). Here's a brief synopsis of what's going on in their worlds. BTW TGC is a Star Wars RP community.

Skelosh Delaroche: my main character that I've had since May of 2002. I'd have to say that he's the one that I love the most. He's an albino human that grew up on Kashyyyk. He turned to the Darkside after his father was killed by a Sith assassin. Recently he just made Sith Master, which has me very excited. He's also just found a book that he's been searching for since late 2002. The book is On Future Sight by Darth Sidious. Skelosh has been obsessed with unlocking the keys to knowing the future before it happens. Recently his financee returned to Ziost with the hopes of resuming their relationship, which has been on the rocks for months, but now that Skelosh is so close to his goal, he can't have Aurelia interfering.

Jaeger Delaroche: Skelosh's unknown, until recently, nephew. It's a long story, but Jaeger has been running around the galaxy with the heiress Kassidy Wayne (who just so happens to be Aurelia's little sister). Jaeger is torn between starting his training as a Sith and continuing to run around the galaxy with the woman of his dreams.

Solek Cole: This brings me to my Imperial sniper. I wanted to have a non-Force using character in my lineup and at the time I had just read the historical fiction book Sharpshooter so I based the character off of the antihero in the book. It may have been bad timing because that was also in the middle of the D.C. Sniper stuff that was going on. Solek doesn't really have many grand plans as of yet. He's in the Special Ops squadron, and is enjoying paying the Republic back for killing his family. I'm still looking for a place to go with him characterwise.

Stacey Lee

I originally wrote this on September 6, 2005. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I wanted to hear Stacey Lee's story. Stacey Lee is a character of mine from the town of Bliss, Texas in the ficitional Lucidia County. I'tried to type it up word for word, but I'm sure many of you know how hard it is to do that. So it has a few tweaks here and there. I'd like to one day turn it into a short story, but I'm not ready for everything in it to come to pass just yet. Enjoy!

"Stupid Preach," I said. I sat in the smoke filled Truck Stop staring at my lit book. Yet again I felled my lungs with the cylinder of bliss. Of Bliss, get it? I bought them just in the other room at the Bliss Truck Stop. "Turn that song off, Jolene!" Always playing that same stupid Kenny Rogers song. So what? I know when to hold them, and when to fold 'em, and it hasn't helped me yet. Besides the song reminds me of Preach, it was playing the first time he walked in this place. Course it's always playing.

I took one look at that wide-eyed kid and the Bible he carried, and dubbed him "Preach." I told him that he looked like the preacher down at the Pentacostal Church on Ophelia Drive with that big black book. I know what you're thinking, a church on Ophelia Drive? Yeah, the engenieers sure liked their Shakespeare. But back to the kid who came in with his Bible. He told me that the Lord is not mocked, then sat down in the booth next to mine. Booth number twenty-three, I'll never forget that number. "Oh, but I'm not mocking God, I'm mocking you." That seemed to shut him up. He just looked at me with that smug look. The look that said he didn't have to make a comeback to still win. He drank some coffee, read some in that bog, black Bible, then left the same way he came it... with barely a word.

After hald a dozen weeks, some where theres about, I came to find out that Preach attended LCC. Lucidia County College, is the nearest place for higher education and the geniuses who built it put it clear across the county where nothing but cows live. Even the hogs know to stay out of the Southwest corner of the county most of the time. That tidbit of knowledge came in mighty handy when gas jumped to two and a half dollars a gallon. Having someone to carpool with was a lot easier on the checkbook. But that didn't always prove to be the best of ideas. Stupid Preach, always trying to talk to me about religion. About how Jesus died for my sins. "What a crack," I told him. All churches are interested in is gettering your hard earned money, not the eternal resting place of my soul. They can spout it all they want, but I've known too many of them.

I do believe there was a time when that boy was in love with me. Why shouldn't he be. I'm everything his precious church ain't. I cuss, drink, smoke, and fornicate. Fornicate was the nice word preach used for what I did. I'm one of those "carnal" girls that his mommy warned him about. But even while he was in love with me, it wasn't lustful like every other fool in this town. Agape is what he called it, a concern for my soul. For my soul. My eternal life... or death. Sure I would've went to bed with him if he wanted. One lay's as good as another, right? Well, depends on the guy. Never would have dated him though, or courted as he often refered to it. He didn't ever look at my lewdly--lewdly there's a ten cent term for you. The most he ever did was try to kiss me.

Ironically enough it was the first and only time he had ever been drunk. He missed my lips comepletely, the poor kid. We were parked over a Quanah's Ridge, just South of the Truck Stop. I took him up there for his twenty-forst birthday. Only two weeks before I told him that I'd show him some fun when he became a man. I never expected him to take me up on it though. My kind of fun and Preach's are as different as poker and Scrabble. But that night he came to me, so I introduced him to my buddy Mr. Daniels. Now let me tell you, the three of us had a hoot. That is till Preach leaned over and tried to kiss me. So drunk he could barely sit up straight, and he tried to kiss me. That boy turned beet red. He jumped in his truck, Betsy, and fired her up.

The errie sound of his truck on the dark night seemed to last forever. By the time I sobered up enough to realize what had happened, Preach was long gone. I caught up to him about a mile outside of town. Betsy plowed headlong into a tree. Preach lay slumped over, his seat belt holding him upright. He just lay there. It didn't matter how loud I hollared, or how hard I shook him, he just wouldn't move. Next to him in the seat lay that big, black Bible. He had the thing open to the fifth chapter of Galatians. The Bible now was sprinkled with blood like when the high priest would sprinkle the blood of bulls and goats on the altar in the tabernacle.

Stupid Preach. The ambulance arrieved thirty minuets later. Preach's official time of death is recorded at twelve ten on August ninth. In reality it's much closer to August eighth and eleven thirty. There's no sense in sharing that with his mom though. Who wants to know that their son died on his birthday? Three days later I went to the funeral. Preach's mom gave me that big black Bible, she said I was his best friend. Some friend I am, he's dead because of me. Stupid Preach.

I had to "convince" the officers, but I talked the police into leaving the fact that Preach was drunk out of the reports. They all say that he fell asleep. The only time in my life that my skin felt like it was on fire. Later on I flipped through Preach's notes. He really was concerned about me. Every where I looked in that book it said, "show this verse to Stacey Lee," "Lord, please help me prick this girl's heart," and the like.

The very next Sunday I showed up at the little Church of Christ on the corner of Iago and Laertes. The one that he always talked about. Last night I was baptized there. It took the most Christ-like man I've ever known to die in sin for me to get it. I never understood the message until then. Stupid Preach.

"Jolene, I said to turn off that song."

I don't exactly need another blog... I have too many already that I don't keep up with. I intend to use this one to talk about some of my writings, maybe I'll post a few flash fictions and some journaling for my characters. Most everything will be work in progress, but this could be a good outlet. Some of you may know me as Skelosh Dlearoche from Ezboard... or one of the many other SNs I went under. For the rest of you, that means a bit of it will be SW related. I can't help it I'm just a geek like that.

Other vitals are I'm 21, I originally hail from Ft. Worth, Texas. But I'm now going to MSU in Wichita Falls. I'm technically a junior but I won't be graduating for a couple and a halfish years. Currently I'm an Accounting major, but I've also held History, Psychology, Sociology, and Theatre as majors. I have the most wonderful girlfriend that I could imagine. She's a Junior in college as well and transfering to MSU in the Fall. For some reason God dropped her in my lap and I thank Him for her every day.

I doubt I'll have any more posts for more than a week because Saturday I'm heading to Arkansas for a week. It's the Summer Camp Meeting. Basically a week long Gospel meeting. This site might not get updated as often as I like but I plan on trying to update at least weekly with some sort of work.

Please don't plagarize my stories. Believe it or not... I do work on them, and spend a lot of time on them.

Have a wonderful weekend. Thanks for stopping by!