Sabbath's Response to Pandemics and Epidemics

Yesterday (4/10/2020), on Facebook, I mentioned writing posts during my time off from work on the thoughts of my many characters about facing pandemics or even a nasty epidemic. Some wouldn’t care, others, a bit of concern, while a few would throw themselves into doing what they can to help others get through until the sickness was gone. Admittedly, many of these characters have magical abilities and decent skills in their fields, but the reactions would be different.

Naturally, Sabbath would be the first. She is my oldest character and most written. She occurs in many forms, so not all my characters will be voiced in these posts, but there will be many.

So, without further ado, the first of the many voices in my head on handling pandemics and epidemics; Sabbath Silverclaw.

Name: Sabbath Silverclaw

Alias(es): Sabreela Ethalli Silverclaw

Occupation: Retired. Formerly a protector of the world of Haven, Healer, Diplomat, Mage, and Lady of the city of Cat’s Haven

Sabbath’s reaction to what is going on in this world would be one of curiosity and genuine concern. It is her nature to help those in need to become well and do everything in her power to heal, by magic or more traditional methods, everyone who falls sick. But, there is a caveat. She won’t heal just anyone, and it wrenches her soul to not tend to certain ones.

First of all , they must want her aid. She asks if they want her to help them. Then, gives them the choice of magic or medicine. In the world she lives in, magical healers aren’t very common but aren’t rare, either. Few are strong enough to withstand the worst diseases by their own ability. For her, she considers it a blessing to be able to go where other medical experts will not due to the severity of the illness.

Sabbath would use the skills she learned by the guild masters to research the illness and find a cure that any healer in the guild could administer. She did not rely on magic and taught that to others when she could. When possible, she’d bow to the more experienced if she knew she could not figure out a means to cure the sick. But, she would record the ways which succeeded in curing without the aid of magics.

She’d work those long hours on the front lines like our doctors and medical personnel are doing now. Deciding who would be given the life saving medicines and who would die was never easy for her. Epidemics and pandemics would have her falling out of her True Neutral ways to the more lawful good side.

Altruistic, yes, and willing to do what it takes. She’d be one to stay in the hospitals 24/7 until someone made her stop to rest.

As a leader, she’d be urging everyone to keep calm and do what they could to keep from getting sick… much like how our current President is doing with us. But, in this case, she’d do what she asks others to do.

Any questions for Sabbath, I will gladly answer them in her ‘voice.’ Ask your questions here or on Facebook. Twitter is not used and rarely monitored.

Something New

Lately, it has been rather difficult for me to think of anything to write about on this blog, or any of my blogs for that matter.  I had taken a very long hiatus from writing due both busy/hectic work schedule and finishing up college.  Neither one is a good excuse  for not writing, but when your brain is mush after dealing with people all day, one tends not to do creative things until the mushiness goes away.

Work, at the moment, is still taking most of my energy.  Trust me when I say that Money Center at any Wal-Mart is not a place to see happy customers unless there are multiple registers in use on those super busy days.  A lone cashier on a busy day is not very happy, productive, or quick and the customers do not want to wait to pay their bills, cash their checks, or send/receive money transfers.  It all must be done N-O-W!

I do what I can.  That is all that one can do.  Right?  Right.

So, about this something new the title of this post says…  I’m considering doing random blogs from the perspective of my various characters.  Granted most do not live in our reality and are furry (anthropomorphic) creatures in varying degrees of sanity and animal rating (feral to civilized).  But, to give some insight into their minds and thinking, and perhaps some humor to entertain, could help break some of my writer’s block and offer ideas into where to take a plot arc.

Black Friday, Society of Night and Lies, Test of Ascension, and my erotica compilation could benefit from this.  Maybe, allowing some of these characters to speak to the world outside of a role play forum or a book will either get them to speak or finally be quiet so others may have their spotlight.

Be warned, though, I have a lot of characters.  A LOT of characters from all walks of life.  Many are related in some way or another and others are all there is to represent their people.  There will be a short blurb before each of their posts stating who they are (some characters are shy and won’t tell), where they come from as well as the reality they hail from as well.

I didn’t see this idea anywhere so if it is a copy, sorry, I didn’t know.  It just came to me this morning while I was preparing to take my son to the bus stop.

Enjoy your day and, please, tell me what you think of this idea.  All comments, complains, and suggestions are welcome.

Long Time No Post... Again

It has been an extremely long time since I last wrote an actual blog post.  Other than a few slices of what was happening in my life over on Facebook, I haven't touched my blogs in over a year.

Just to recap since the last post; my Aunt Pat died a year ago May.  It was a very sudden heart attack when she was getting out of the pool.  She was gone before reaching the hospital.

My last surviving grandparent, Grammy, passed away back in February.  Her death was expected.  She had been declining over the last couple of years since her operation to have a few melanoma tumors removed from her scalp.  She went in alert and ornery and came out a very different person.  We think she have had a mini stroke during the operation to bring about such a huge change.  At least mom and I got to see her one last time when we went down for Aunt Pat's funeral and she got to meet Colin and see how bright and vibrant he is.

I loved my grandmother, but she was the poster child for bipolar and I caught the brunt of some of her opinions and anger.  But, I am happy that she is no longer suffering and is probably driving my grandfather up a wall in Heaven right now.  I can just hear her yelling "Charles!" because of something he did.

When we went to my Aunt's funeral last year, we didn't tell Grammy that her oldest daughter had died.  That news would have killed her quickly.  But, she knew something wasn't right.  Something was out of place though an unexpected visit from her middle child and a granddaughter wasn't too out of the ordinary.  All we dared to tell her was that she would see Pat soon.  Which is true in a sense.  We didn't know how much longer we'd have with Grammy but we knew then it wasn't long.

As for myself, and my family, we're all in good health and improving it one day at a time.  For now, my diabetes is getting under control again and my doctor, wonderful lady, is concerned about my cholesterol so I have added a new pill to my daily regimen.  Yes, I am finally under doctor care again.  Which means, I should be getting myself back into a better routine and working to bring my blood sugar back down to where it should be.

She also added another pill to aid my metformin.  After three weeks of this, I am starting to feel more energized and less tired all day.  I still feel blah in general, especially when it comes to writing or even art in general.  I need to edit book one of Black Friday and finish writing book two.  My erotic anthology needs not just editing but stories written.  One is started and two others planned.  Test of Ascension is in serious need of editing and beta reading.   Any one willing to read this to help get the introduction fixed as well as ideas to fill in the gaps as well as smoothing it out, please, give me a note and I'll send a copy.

Best thing about me is I finally graduated from college.  I have an Associate degree in Business Administration.  Woo hoo!  Yes!!

hat tossing ceremony at graduation

Dave, for those who have seen the posts on Facebook, is doing great.  He had an abscess on the back of his lymphodema mass go septic and rupture in such a way, the mess looked like a crime scene.  He had to have the fire department come help the EMTs get him out of the bathroom where he discovered the problem when he went to do his usual wake up routine.  As serious as it was, when looking back, it is funny, but Dave was in the hospital just over a week and had surgery to clean out the abscess.  This was at the beginning of May.  Now, that fist sized hole is how about the size of my pinky and he can take a shower again.

Even better, he has lost just over 50 pounds, so we are all happy.  Yeah, he has the help of insulin injections right now, but the weight loss is a welcome thing.  Plus, he is watching his diet much better.  For now, the goal is to lose five pounds per month.

He is seeking a new doctor.  The one he went to see for the abscess did nothing except put him on insulin and refilled his prescriptions.  He didn't bother looking at it or anything.  Otherwise, there would not have been such a huge mess for me to clean.  It would have been drained safely there in the doctor's office or he could have been transported to the hospital instead of it rupturing at home where all kinds of germs and such can make things worse.  We are leaving Morton Clinic as doctor of choice.  We are needing a bariatric doctor here in Tulsa that takes SoonerCare for Dave.  Suggestions are more than welcome.

There may be more blog posts once I'm able to kick myself in the rump to actually do it.  Will there be another post soon?  I don't know.  But, let me just say this, this blog has seen 4 years as of the end of May.  My LiveJournal account, where my blogging began is now 12 years old.  My oldest art account, FurAffinity.net, is 10 years old now.  I haven't posted anything new on there is about a year.

So, you know, those who are still watching, I am here and still alive.  Still trying to figure things out while the muse is on vacation.  Until it is official, I am not depressed or overwhelmed with all I have sitting around begging for my attention.  I'm just tired.  Very, very, tired, and the sleep is clinging to me like a cozy blanket on a cold winter's day; all I want to do is sleep.

Have you gone without writing because of issues other than personal, working, or medical?

One of Many

I know I haven’t posted in a while.  Ever since my Comp II class, I haven’t felt like writing anything, not even a short post here to let people know I’m alive.  Honestly, I haven’t felt like doing much of anything since this time last year.

This month, I have Introduction to Literature.  This class is a bit more interesting than other Lit classes I’ve taken.  The first paper written is our own continuation of a short story written by Tananarive Due.  Her short story is called Patient Zero and is a diary type story that comes from the point of view of a ten year old boy who survived a deadly sickness.    The project as for each of us to write our own ending to this short story since Patient Zero ends quite abruptly and eaves a lot to the imagination as to what happened next.

We had a limit of no more than 1000 words and I kind of blew that away without realizing it when I turned it in.  Thankfully, I was allowed to do some serious editing to pare it down from the 2,954 words to a mere 997.  For those who are curious, I did get a 92 on it.  Yay!

Without further ado, my continuation of Patient Zero.

********

            Getting to the parking lot proved to be harder than what first Jay thought.  The elevator couldn’t go to the first floor is what Ms. Manigat said, but she didn’t say if there was another way down or not.  All she said was look for the big red ‘Exit’ sign and he’d be able to leave the building.  Simple.  Or so he thought.

His belly growled loudly, urging him to find food and quickly.  None of the offices had food left in them; not a single one of them.  All he found were the bodies of those who had taken care of him up until a couple weeks ago, including Ms. Manigat resting peacefully in her room.  He was afraid to approach her but he could tell that she wasn’t breathing.  Though his heart ached at seeing her lifeless form on the cot, he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, cry.

Grief was overridden by a sudden need to leave the building.  Panic was setting in, making his hungry body shake.  6-4-6-7-9-4-3. The numbers ran through his mind, begging him to grasp them and hold on to that last memory of her being alive before it was too late.  If he broke down now, he may never find a way out or food before his body gave up.  She wouldn’t want him to give up.  Ms. Manigat wanted him to live and be free of those cold lifeless walls.

Much to his dismay, no elevator he found would work.  He tried and tried, but none would go to the first floor.  Through tears of frustration and panic-born sobs he spotted a red sign next to the stainless steel doors with a stick figure walking down what looked like stairs and beneath that simple picture, the word in bold letters “Stairs” and an arrow pointing to a simple grey door just a few feet away in a shadowy alcove.

The plaque above the door was faded, covered in dust and grime, but he could make out the word stairs.  Debris which had fallen propped the door open.  Wiring, some metal rods, what looked like a pipe littered the landing and gave him his only escape from the second floor.  Freedom!  Jay jumped then squeezed through the door.  He descended the stairs as if a demon were coming up behind him, jumping over debris and trying hard not to stumble or fall.  Even he, a healthy young lad, could hurt himself if he fell down in the stair well.

He burst through the door into the hall connecting to the lobby with the bright sun guiding him toward the broken windows and doors of the entry.  The brilliant sun stopped him in his tracks, blinding him until he could see the quiet, late winter, world around him.  Even where he used to live, Mid-February had a certain chill and night would bring more cold.  Only briefly did he return to the building to find a coat, eventually finding some lab coats and someone’s old parka in one of the closets behind the receptionist’s desk.  Before taking his leave permanently, he decided to return to his room and grabs a few things; his blanket, the can opener Ms. Manigat gave him at Thanksgiving, and some extra clothes, remembering what she told him about how to live outside.  Though he didn’t realize it at the time, she was preparing him for this moment.

With everything stuffed into a duffel bag he found in the employee locker room, he went back to the parking lot.  Once outside, he looked around, scared for the first time in a long while and wondered where he should go first.  Only a single look back to give a mental goodbye to the one person who cared for him the most was given then he followed the one road leading away from the CDC building.

Survive.  That is what his tutor and family would want him to do.  That is what he had to do.  As he walked to the empty guard station, he wondered to himself if there were others who lived through the sickness like he did.  Surely he couldn’t be the only one.  There were three little girls in China who lived, so why couldn’t others?

The only exit at the guard station was blocked by a tall metal fence on wheels with cars up against the other side so it couldn’t be opened.  His escape couldn’t be thwarted, so he followed the brick fence until it stopped and was replaced by chain link and barbed wire about eight feet high.  He couldn’t climb that part of the fence so he kept following it.  Out of sight of the guard station and the CDC build, he found a spot where someone had cut their way out, leaving a gaping hole big enough for him to slip through.

As quickly as he could, he found his way back to the road he was following and returned to his original plan, find someplace that still had food.  By the time he found the first store, he becoming weak from hunger and still had not found any water to drink.  During his whole trek, he didn’t hear a bird or dog, nothing except for the wind whispering through the barren tree limbs and the rustle of dried grass waving at him from the road.

Though the windows of the store were broken, he could see inside empty shelves and trash scattered all over the floor.  It smelled like something was rotten inside and rats were skittering about carrying bits of food to their nests.

His explorations found the gruesome sight of a partially eaten corpse huddled in a back corner beneath some fallen boxes.  What food he did find was some jerky hidden in the dirty, smelly, bathroom, and a couple boxes of Twinkies in the back office.  It was better than nothing and he couldn’t be picky.  What he had was just barely enough to take the edge off his hunger, but it was enough to let him concentrate on finding more food and, hopefully, some shelter before the sun went down.  It was already late afternoon and the shadows were getting long.

Those first weeks were spent the same, finding food and sufficient shelter.  When the last of winter faded, allowing spring to warm the earth and the grass and leave to grow, he stayed close to the city, moving from store to store and apartment to house, keeping as far from the dead as he could and taking only when he needed to live.  Eventually, he found clothing he could wear and a better coat in one store and in another, luckily, plenty of food in an army surplus outlet.  In there, he found all he needed from a tent and backpack to the small things to eat with and cook.  Ms. Manigat told him all about them and she knew he could understand the instructions so he wouldn’t get hurt.

In many of the places he slept, he found animals just barely alive and just as hungry as he was.  He set them free and even shared some of his food with them.  One, a black and white mutt, stayed with him, helping him to find edible food and decent water until he found a place with lots of bottled water.  Never had he been so happy to see clean water in his life.  Though picked apart, the sporting goods stores he found offered little but the few larger retail outlets offered what heeded to make drinkable water.  But, he knew, eventually, he would have to leave the city and search for other survivors like him.

With the weather better for travel, he left the city behind and followed the highway.  Days melted into one another as he put the city further and further behind him.  The dog followed him faithfully and gave him someone to talk to during those long quiet hours.

One bright and warm afternoon while he and the dog were playing in a stream, his dog, he finally named Benji, stopped and faced the far shore, his fur raised and a growl rumbling loudly from his curled back lips.  Jay stopped his splashing play and looked in the same direction as his beloved pet.

At first he saw nothing, then as the rustling of leave set itself apart from the normal sound of the warm breeze; he spotted something moving in the shadows.  “Hello!” He called out; trying to sound friendly though he was scared and shaking on the inside.  “Hello?  I… I’m Jay.  Are… Are you friendly?”  His voice wavered then he went quiet, hoping against hope that this person was friendly.

“Wha’d ya want, kid?  Git outta here.  We… I ain’t got nuthing you could want.  Git!”  The stranger sounded male, definitely, and old; kind of how Dr. Ben sounded but not quite the same.  Over the rustling of leaves, the sound of a click was heard.

That sound made Benji bark and bound up onto the far shore, growling loudly, threateningly, at the stranger.  He didn’t back down even though Jay yelled at him to stop.  Naked as he was, Jay dashed after his canine friend and wrapped his arms around his friend’s neck to hold him back.

All that time as Benji was making his advance, the stranger was yelling and cursing until Jay, he thought, had him secured.  “Keep that dog away or I’ll kill it,” the stranger snarled back.  “I got him in my sights and I ain’t above eating mutt for dinner, either.”

“Don’t!” Jay cried, scared for himself and his dog.  “He’s just trying to protect me.  That’s all.”

“Don’t rightly care, kid.  The both of ya git outta here.  Git!”  Then, the man stepped out, clothed in rags and carrying a shot gun.  He held it ready to fire at the both of them.

Just when it seemed he was going to pull the trigger on the retreating pair, another stepped out of the brush and grabbed the gun’s barrel in her tiny hands.  “Carl!  Don’t you dare harm that boy!  He ain’t gonna hurt no body.  Can’t you tell he’s just as hungry as we are?  Jeebus, put yer glasses on before I smack ya for being stupid.”

The woman was a petite, her dress was little more than rags with patches holding the threadbare strips together.  Her white hair looked like a fluffy cloud had settled on her head and her face looked kind.  Though she was just as thin as the man, she looked like she tried hard to keep herself looking as clean as possible compared to the dirty and nearly bald man.

“Get yourself dress, young man,” she said gently, “Ain’t no one gonna hurt ya.  We ain’t got much, but we’ve enough to share.”

Relieved, he slowly let go of Benji then did as he was told.  They were the only humans he found alive and he was relieved.  Quickly he dressed and gathering his packs.  With Benji protectively close to him, they crossed the stream, trusting the couple wouldn’t hurt him or his dog.  “Um… thank you, ma’am,” he said softly, almost too scared to talk to either of them.

The woman smiled, her bright blue eyes sparkling brightly with intelligence and a generosity that went beyond the need to survive.  “Aw, now, sweetling, don’t be afraid.  You can call me Momma.  Everyone does, ya know.  Or did before they all got sick and died.”  She sounded so sweet, and welcoming, there was no way anyone could deny her.

While the man grumbled he put his gun back on his shoulder and scowled at them.  “We don’t got enough for another mouth, Momma.  We barely got enough for us.”

Jay blinked at them, not sure if he should trust them.  It seemed too good to be true.  “Uh, um, okay, Momma, ma’am.  Uh, I’m Jay and this is Benji, my friend.  He was just protecting me.  Honest.”  For some reason, he felt the need to justify the dog’s actions to her.

“That’s okay, Jay.  Don’t worry about it.  We had dogs once, before all of this sickness and stuff.  They didn’t live through it.  Too small I would guess.  But looks like yours managed just fine.”  She gazed down at Benji, measuring him then nodding to herself.  “Course, he looks pretty thin, too.”

Jay nodded slowly, still unsure but glad to be around another human.  “I found him a while back.  He’s helped me find food and stuff and been catching stuff on his own.  His name’s Benji.”  Then, suddenly, he remembered something and stopped.  “Did you get sick with the others?”

Momma paused and Carl kept on walking the path they were on.  She looked at Jay with a sad look in her eyes before nodding.  “Yes, we all did.  Carl here is my brother.  We both lost families to that dreaded disease and so much more because we were both too sick to take care of the livestock proper until we were well.  Nothing has been easy since the radio went quiet and the power went out.”  Then, suddenly, she put on a happy face, looking as fake as the mannequins he saw in the store windows in town.  “Let’s not talk about that.  We’re alive and that’s all that matters.”

That was all that mattered.  They were alive, and healthy except for not having enough food, Jay thought.  He had some with him and a bunch of other stuff he thought would be useful later when it got warm.  “Okay.” He spoke softly, afraid he had upset her.  “I don’t need to stay.  I got my own stuff.”

“I see that,” she said gently.  “Looks like you’re prepared for a long trip.  What do you have in there?”

“Proud of himself, he smiled and puffed out his chest.  “Lots of camping stuff, clothes, and some army food I found in a store.  Got some other stuff too for water and some seeds.”

Her brows shot up, surprised by all he had but even more surprised at what he had in his possession.  “Seeds?  You have seeds?  Oh, Jay, you are a life saver.  God above has finally smiled down on us.”

Surprised he looked at her with the most confused expression.  “Yeah, I do.  Got lots of different ones my teacher said were good to grow when it got warm enough.”

Her smile was filled with tears as she bent down to look him in the eyes.  “Would you mind giving Carl and I some of your seeds?  We weren’t prepared for this kind of problem and our truck ran out of gas months ago.  We have had no way to get into town for anything.  All we have is what we could catch and find on our own.”

Without thinking twice, he nodded.  “Um, sure.”  Her reaction seemed odd to him, but he had more than enough for him.

“We’ll give you some fresh food in trade for them, honey.  I promise.”  She grasped his hand hurried down the path.  After several minutes, they came upon the old run down farm house.  It looked like it needed some work, but it was in good repair and behind it he saw several cows and heard other animals though he couldn’t see them.

Carl was just climbing the steps to the porch when Momma called out to him the good news.  He waved them off and went inside.  All that mattered to her was there was going to be more food.  The rest of the afternoon was spent looking over the seeds and deciding which ones they needed or wanted.  The rest Jay put back into his pack.

The old MREs made for a decent meal for all of them, leaving them feeling sated along with the ground meat Momma cooked to go with it.  Some of his other supplies were also given to them so they could enjoy good water.

Because they were so old, Jay decided to stay and help.  Eventually Carl accepted him and let him help as much as possible, even teaching him how to use the shotgun and other things about farm living.  There was a lot both Momma and Carl taught him.

Spring turned into summer, then into fall.  The weeks passed one by one and when winter came, they celebrated with small feast, careful not to make too much.  With Benji there and a strong young lad, so much more could be done and the farm began to thrive.

A lucky find of an old HAM radio lured other survivors to the farm, some bringing supplies and others just bringing themselves and other survivors found along the way.  Years passed and eventually old age took Momma and Carl, but others took their place in leading the small community.  Little by little, they all learned to live off the land and how to make those things required for life like the pioneers did.  Survivalists came and went, teaching them more about how to live comfortably on so little.

Among the many newcomers, Jay met a girl of his age.  Their friendship grew and, when they felt like they were old enough, started a new generation; one strong enough to not fall prey to the disease they had lived through.  Death came far too easily without the medical care they were used to having.  As long as they worked hard and took care of themselves like their ancestors did, the human race could live on for a while longer.  Maybe, this time, they’d be more careful and respect the Earth more.

Alert the Media!

*flails wildly then faceplants on the floor*

One down, one to go! Time to celebrate the first win!

Those who have been keeping and rooting for me, you can finally cheer.  I passed the state exam for Life/Accident and Health products portion of the state licensing exam.  It almost wasn’t going to happen due to technical issues with the computer I was on.

Wasn’t anything I did.  Nope, not this time.  ;)  The computer was acting up before I got there.  They had to reboot it four times before I could take the test.  The crazy thing would freeze at the end of the sample test (I swear it’s to make sure people understand what country they’re in with all the America centric questions) and not let me continue.  The final reboot let me complete the practice and got me all the way through to the end and tallied my score.

Maybe I did threaten to bring a tech-god to fix the problem or IT was going to be there after I was done to upgrade and fix the problem, I don’t know, but it did work.

It’s done.  Finally done!  I won’t have to worry about it again unless the license lapses for any reason.  From here on out, it will be continuing education to keep me up to date on changes made in the insurance code and ethics courses to prove I won’t commit fraud or something to that matter.  That will only be 24 hours per year, so no worries.

Due to studying this week, and other things going on, I didn’t do any writing.  Not all was distractions with Facebook, I promise, though some were along that line.  There was review and extra studying on the sections I needed more focus, such as Medicare and Long-term Care policies.

This means I have nothing new to give on Black Friday 2 nor anything to report on my Camp Nano novel.  Both of those needed to be set aside for the purpose of passing the most pain in the neck test I have ever taken.  At least it did pay off and I can put some effort into both of the projects when I’m not working or training.

Which means I have this weekend free after the shopping is done and Monday between doctor appointments for Colin and Dave.

OW! Hot stuff!

That reminds me, keep Dave in your thoughts, he is starting down the road toward gastric surgery to help him get rid of his excess weight and the lymphedema lump on his inner thigh.  Monday, he consults with his doctor about which procedure he’ll recommend then starting the string of tests which have to be done before the operation date.  One way, or another, we will get this done; even if it means I have to pay for incredible insurance which will cover the surgery, tests, and post-op visits.

Thankfully, we already know, he won’t be down for more than a day or two and be on a protein shake diet for a few months.  But, it will end his diabetes almost immediately and start straightening out other weight related issues.  This also means that I’ll be forced to diet, too.  But this is a good thing.  I need to lose about half my body weight to be within the target range for my height and build.

Okay, I rambled too much.

I hope everyone had a safe and fun-filled 4th of July.

Do you have anything to celebrate this week?

Long Running Comet for Saturday

Even though I get off early on Saturdays now, I am still posting this late at night.  I can honestly say I am doing things before writing my posts, but not all of it writing related.  I’m sure some of you can guess what I was doing.

I have looked at Way of the Comet recently and thought about the last post I had written about it.  I mentioned in it a creature that definitely a creation of my own and not mainstream at all.  Dungeons & Dragons doesn’t have a blip on this creature anywhere in its many books and sites.

It was even mentioned in one of the excerpts I posted; the kiyrie.

What is this creature you ask?

A kiyrie is a feline-like winged  creature capable of some shape changing and magic.  It wasn’t an animal that evolved like others.  Its very base form, the feline, was created by the spirit of the Earth when it finally became conscious and alive.  All the other creatures came from somewhere else and evolved over time, they weren’t true creations of the Earth.

The spirit of the Earth took bits from different wild cats and a few other creatures to form the first kiyrie (pronounced kee-EYE-ree).  At the time, it was simply a feline looking creature capable of a small amount of magic.  When Bast found it, she demanded that it be destroyed because other creations have tried to destroy the planet and they just got things back to a more natural state.  The short story of it is, the Earth said no and hid her creation.  Bast finds it.  They argue and the first kiyrie is cursed into being only simple wild animals for eternity.  The Earth, in a fit, makes a work around for her creature so they are able to shift between anthro and feral forms, but if they stay in their feral forms for too long, they will forget themselves and stay feral until they die.  Cue a few Fate planned acts and they eventually gain wings, more magic, ad develop their own society.  That’s the long and short of it.  I have stories of each ‘evolution’ they’ve gone through to get where they are in current Haven history.

In Way of the Comet, they make an appearance when Larana is captured by the enemy and force shifted so they can keep her caged for their own nefarious deeds.  The griffon she speaks to in the camp is a kiyrie that has lost many of his memories from being in one form too long.  Thanks to the higher functioning griffon mind, he hasn’t lost all, just a good part until he is forced to shift again into a feral state.  Then, he may be lost forever.

Now, the kiyrie, whether trapped in a different form other than their original or free, they probably won’t play a big part in the story itself.  They may give Larana some insights and a stepping stone to get her closer to her goal before it’s too late.

For now, she needs to get out of her cage and it looks like she may have to convince Hawk to help her and organize the rest of the beasts so they can escape.  Slavery is a bad thing and she does not like being sold and stolen.  Which could prove to be an interesting scene or two before the cavalry arrives.  I know there’s going to be a very mad lion to deal with the canines of that camp.

The ideas are coming to get through this block, but so far, nothing is really coming together enough to be solid and good for the story.  We’ll see what happens when I finally move this story closer to the top of the list.  Who knows, the muse just may decide to focus on this story for a while after I finish revisions on others.

Late Furry Friday

Sorry this post comes late, but I wasn’t able to get in and settle to write anything until late last night (Friday).  Work has me leaving at 7PM and fortunately, mom was wanting some all you can eat fish; which I was craving as well.  We did go out for dinner, but wouldn’t you know it, they ran out of the hand battered fish for the all you can eat at 6:30 so we had to make do with something else from the menu.  We’re such huge regulars at this place that we didn’t mind and had a good dinner while we playfully teased our server and the night manager.

Because we are regulars at Village Inn, they proved how well they know us by getting our drink orders without asking.  All they did was make sure of what Colin wanted.  He changes it up with each visit but his drinks are usually one of three things.  His normal meal has also changed but they took it in stride and made it extra special good for him.

I love our normal server at Village Inn.  While she does keep up a professional attitude, she’s funny, vibrant, and willing to go that extra mile, like bringing my mom and me a pitcher of unsweet tea to refill our glasses.  We drink that much tea when we’re there.  She also puts a couple extra lemons in knowing we love lemon in our tea.  She’s taken the time to memorize our usual orders, including Dave who doesn’t come in as much as mom and I do.

It’s people like her that I put into my stories.  Though the main character I associate with her is in another book (being written right now), I keep certain aspects of her for others stories, like the young druid in one of the short stories in my erotica compilation.  The kitsune she’s seeking is based on someone I knew as a child and someone I know online now whose character this fox is based on.

I’ve encountered a block on the story with the druid and kitsune.  He’s supposed to be playing tricks on her while she follows his trail.  Along the way, it’ll be him that falls for her.  She, Leofa, won’t be in love with him, but she will be infatuated.  Her heart belongs to the Nature goddess who currently remains unnamed so their relationship won’t go the same way as others have in this set.

Another story will take things in reverse, in a way.  I haven’t thought of a working title for it, yet.  This one has the dragon/elf taurs. (I know, very difficult to imagine let alone conceive)  This story will start off with the sex scene then the couple will have to deal with the consequences of it when they reach their new home and wait to be paired with their future ‘mates’.  It won’t go well for them socially, but they will stay together even though they’re community will try to force them apart.

I’m still thinking of other stories to add into this compilation to make a total of ten.  I was thinking of doing a story with my elf character Jade.  She’s younger, a little more naive and trying to forget the bloodshed and lost comrades in a war between two tribal kingdoms she fought in.  This would be the story where she meets to one man who stole her heart and helped her heal emotionally from the war and find a new home among the folca in the high mountains.  It could be an interesting story if bittersweet in its own way.  When she married, she was still considered young by elf standards.

I don’t know.  We’ll see how the muse dances when I finally finish revisions on SoNL.  That one is my primary focus for now.

Thursday is for Therapy

Not for me, oddly enough, but for my son.  He’s not your normal ADHD kid with enough energy to run a small city if he were running on a treadmill hooked to a generator.  No, he has some other issues knocking about in that blond head of his to keep things interesting.

He has behavioral issues which drive poor unsuspecting teachers mad.  These same issues make for tense parents and grandmother.  My mom, Dave, and I cringe when the phone rings during school hours.  We just know he has done something that requires them to call us to come get him.  This was very true in kindergarten, first grade, and part of second grade.  He spent time on suspension until we started poking the school faculty into following our request.

Jackson Elementary was not the school for Colin.  They were extremely slow in doing their own testing after we filled out the paperwork.  While they wandered around figuring things out, he was ostracized by not just the students in his class, but by his teacher as well.  This happened in Kindergarten.  No wonder he needs therapy now.  I mean, what teacher, in their right mind, ostracizes a child, knowing he cannot help what he is doing, and encourages the other kids to do the same.  If another kid started something, naturally Colin would react, but he would get all the blame.  The other kid is given a pat on the head and left to do what they wanted.

Colin was labeled a bad kid because the school took so long trying to get things set up.  We, his parents, had no idea who to talk to or where to go to have him tested.  The counselors could not, or would not, tell us anything.  He may not have been the best student, but he aced his academic testing at the end of the year and they gave him nothing but grief.  Jackson is a school which should be closed down and the teachers sent back to school.

My mom and I decided to put him in another school.  Skelly, his current school, is just across the street from us; a five minute walk.  First grade was rough, but the school started pointing us in the right direction once they saw what he was like.  Other circumstances also had us seeing the proper doctors and putting him on medication.

Now, almost three years later, Colin has blossomed in so many ways.  His speech is clear, he can form complete thoughts and articulate as if he had never had problems before.  His handwriting is what is difficult for him now.  We could see the changes within the first few months of speech therapy.  Each of the therapists he’s had have done a wonderful job and he enjoys these sessions.

Occupational therapy took a bit longer to get started.  The first assessment he had shown problems, but it took a bit more paperwork from not just us, his family, but observations from his teachers, too.  His OT sessions have him working on gross and fine motor skills, things we never really saw until they were pointed out.  Thanks to his first OT therapist, we were able to get him over that final hurdle of potty training.  Those last steps were the hardest and he’d use bathroom accidents as a way to go home early.

His second grade teacher, wonderful woman who did everything she could to help, would not allow him that luxury.  Unless it was a bad accident, he put on a change of clothes we kept handy and stayed the whole day.  Also, during second grade, he had a change of medication which turned out to be the right mix and dosage, which made things much easier on all of us.

Looking at him today, I can see he isn’t the child who skipped ahead of me when I’d walk him home from school back in Jackson.  He is a special little boy.  He’s made so many breakthroughs in this year alone; the one I am most proud of being the three friends that he has come looking for him almost every day.  As much as I love my boy, he needed kids his age to interact with instead of a video game or the television.

Now, we’ve added in Behavioral therapy.  This is making for a long day for me.  Long enough that I must have the day off.  It just wouldn’t be worth the effort to go in for a few hours leave for four or five hours then come back for one hour and go home.  Wouldn’t be fair to anyone.  Due to circumstances at work that have temporarily taken me out of the pharmacy, I have requested Thursdays off for therapy and doctor visits.  As much as I hate to split my days off, I need to for my little boy.

Seeing him improve, I wonder if I should seek psychological help for my own mental problems.  I’m not bipolar, or something like that, but thanks to the torture I endured in school and what my ex put me through for years, I’m not exactly the most stable person.  Working on the registers on the front end is a nightmare; one I care not to repeat for the safety of the customers.  Claustrophobia, agoraphobia, probably a few others, maybe even a dash of ADD, needs to be addressed.  With all these characters talking in my head, some more demanding than others, multiple personality disorder isn’t something I need be concerned about until they decide to take over all at once.  (Just kidding)

Where, or when, I should work those sessions in is beyond me unless they can do after hours or Sunday visits.  Somehow, both seem very unlikely.  Good thing I do have my writing to keep things straight in my head.  One day, I’ll write a story all about Colin.  Who knows, that could launch things into a whole new life for me.

Yes, therapy is good.  Very good.