Wow, it's been a while.
The past few months have been rather busy with working/finishing up the semester, but now at last the break has arrived, and with it some free time to blog. Luckily, having very little free time is frequently more inspirational than having all the free time in the world, and the limited amount that I've had has certainly given me some ideas for Stuff to Write About. Also, thanks for the birthday well-wishes this past week; they are much appreciated. Two decades is much too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable BZPers.
But more to the point, this entry was also to post a short snippet from a much-planned-for-yet-ultimately-too-late entry to the S&T contest. I was this close
to being finished, but time just seems to go on without you sometimes. Oh well, there's always the BS01 contest to fall back on. Whatever the case, hopefully someday it'll be finished enough to post. Until then:
A cloud of dust raised itself along the barren shoreline. Unmarked and insignificant, it wound about the dry rocks, moving slowly up the line of the twilit beach. In this land of dust and death it was no strange thing to see.
The small ship in which it had come suddenly righted itself as the dust cloud moved away, sinking back toward the throbbing of the dark waves, vanishing beneath the surface. No one witnessed the coming of this newcomer—if newcomer it was—for the coast of Karzahni was a silent, empty place, filled with a lingering horror and madness.
The Dark Hunter called Devastator crested the rise northward, the sand and dust of his form whirling into shape. Before him stretched the familiar, broken plains of Karzahni; pitted, and scorched with the neglect of ages. A wind stirred the black grass that rustled dryly at his armored feet, and the Dark Hunter bristled at the memory of this region. The fire and heat of that place where he had first emerged…he hated this realm, and yet knew it more thoroughly than any, except, perhaps, for its ruler in his black fortress behind his black walls.
But now he had an errand. The wind carried a scent here of something new—something that had only recently fled to these lost, ancient shores. The smell of a certain Matoran, and the thing he carried.
The thief had taken The Shadowed One’s scroll, and for that he had met his end in this cursed land of fire and dust. But now the scroll had a new owner, and that one would meet the same fate. The Dark Hunter smiled and stretched his powerful limbs, anticipating the coming task. The wards pointed north, and he would follow them.
Devastator burst into sand as the dead wind rose behind him, whirling away north toward the plains where Matoran lived and yet did not live.
And that's it for now. I hope to add some more content in the next couple of weeks. Comment if ye will.JRRT