doo-bee-doo
tum teh tum
i got my braces.
admittedly not the most pleasant thing, and eating is just hard.
i'm currently trying to find a metal detector to set off, just for fun. i hope'll work because it'd be just funny. anyhoo i have been asked repeatedly to revive the blog. and so i shall. i've been working on a story which i actually have not deleted instantly. so it's ok and you won't die of cardiac arrest if you read it or anything. i think'll put the first part right here.

Changeling
prologue
The alchemist looked down at his newest creation. He had worked day and night to achieve such perfection. The endless toil had taken its toll on him; he could feel his breath escaping him in wheezy gasps. He knew only too well that this invention could be his last. Yet, if he succeeded…he would be immortal. His name would live on as the greatest of creators, a legend to all future generations. The honour, the fame, the glory….his eyes refocused as he determinedly got back to work. No, this time he would not fail. Through shaky breaths, he swore to himself that the honour would be worth any price he had to pay. Even if it was his life.
“Ah, such beauty.” He stroked the hair of his creation. It was so beautiful; it hardly deserved to be continuously injected with alchemical solutions. In its vegetative state, these solutions were the only thing keeping it alive. He wanted to find a way, a way to keep it alive. Passing electrical currents through it, like that human novel Frankenstein merely let its eyes open momentarily. Besides, his creation was not some creature crudely assembled out of stolen body parts, it was a true work of art. He decided he could not rely on science alone to rouse it. After all, alchemy was part magic as well.
The next day he searched desperately, feverishly through the depths of his own mind. There had to be some spell, some incantation, something that would sustain it. A thought slipped into his mind, but it was so horrendous he recoiled in shock. It was disgusting, immoral and completely inhuman! Yet, he knew if he were to finish it…it truly was the only way. Surely, he coaxed himself; the repercussions would not be so bad that they could not be controlled. “The only way” he muttered to himself, sad grey-green eyes looking skyward. “A soul for a heartbeat. A soul for a heartbeat.”
In the course of a few weeks, the alchemist had grown older. The little hair on his head looked as if it had been bleached white and his entire face was a mask of wrinkles. But the eyes were burning, burning brightly with an almost rabid determination that could scorch anything in his path. “It’s nearly…complete” he said to himself, in a voice was nothing more than a scratchy gasp. “My creation will live and that is the only thing that matters to me now.” He knew he was weakening by the moment, but it seemed the fire in his eyes would refuse to die until it was complete. The extraction was nearly finished; in return his creation would finally wake. That was when the noise started.
It started as a dull thud on the door but was progressively growing louder. The alchemist knew that, somehow, word of his “experiment” had got out. They were here, and he knew he had precious little time to complete the process. His hands deftly grabbed his notes and threw them into the fire. He did not want others to learn of how he created it, so as to be able to use it for their own purposes. He saw the thing breathe out a cloud of wispy blue smoke and he knew it was done. It was finally alive. The alchemist smiled for the last time in his life as the door splintered open and the cries of outrage became audible. The last thing his flickering consciousness grasped was the beautiful vision of his creation waking, like a dreamer from a deep sleep.
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obviously i didnt have anything to post, so i took the easy way out.
feel free to give constructive criticism, comments etc.
=p