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You are Will Riker

Will Riker 50% Chekov 45% Uhura 45% James T. Kirk (Captain) 40% Geordi LaForge 40% Jean-Luc Picard 35% Deanna Troi 35% Spock 30% Beverly Crusher 30% Leonard McCoy (Bones) 25% Mr. Scott 25% Worf 15% Mr. Sulu 10% Data 10% An Expendable Character (Redshirt) 5%

At times you are self-centered but you have many friends. You love many women, but the right woman could get you to settle down.

Click here to take the Star Trek Personality Quiz



ALMOST CHEKOV.

Hey Kids. I'm stretching myself out thinner over the internet sooooo...I have a new blog if you're interested. (idiot proof yet! I can deal with it.)
http://autumnbot.blogspot.com/
Check it people. It has ART

Oh man, I want to watch Watchmen again.
UNF UNF UNF Rorschach. UNF.
I also want all seasons of M.A.S.H. UNF Hawkeye UNF UNF.


Guys I am a pervert. Ah well.

The oscars.
I enjoy them.

i suck at this lj thing. when i figure out the cuts, we'll talk.
that is all

 So i'm just posting some creative writing work, more will come up later, i write mostly fantasy as you can probably tell. And fan fiction. Yaoi fan fiction, awesome-tastic. 
Later days

<lj-cut>The camp was in chaos. Rowan was hit left and right by running guards, their bravado forgotten while they ran for their lives away from the charging knights on horseback. It was like a dream, he watched bemusedly as his fellow prisoners also came out into the sunlight from the broken cages, squinting at the mass of prison guards being trampled and slashed, they looked as confused as he felt. A stocky man in ostentatious armour laughed gaily and shouted to the mass of captives,

“You are free!”

Free? Rowan whispered it, trying it out almost. He repeated it.

“I’m…free.”

Freedom, the word spread like fire on a dry field, repeated until it became like a hum, background music to the carnage. Some of the younger, more exuberant prisoners whooped and jumped around in glee, still chained together by the shackles on their feet. Rowan just stood there among the celebrating crowd, and looked up at the sky. How long it had been, he thought, as he soaked up the suns rays. He’d been in the dark for so long, he’d almost forgotten how blue the sky could be.

More laughter came from the knights on horseback, Rowan observed them through his long tangled hair. Brash, stupid, no concept of danger, they were definitely knights from the kingdom of Britannia. Of course it would be them who freed the enslaved. That went along quite nicely with their way of thinking…if you could call it that. He sighed and ducked a splintering lance just in time. At least now he knew that even after ten years, his reflexes weren’t totally shot, he thought sourly, glancing at the knight deprecatingly. A guard suddenly crashed into him, and started gibbering unintelligibly at Rowan, his round face covered in dirt and tears.

“Save me!” he wailed piteously, Rowan face became immediately stone-like. This snivelling man had beaten him many times with his whip on a whim, and now was begging for his life. His eyes flashed angrily, and without even stopping to think about it, he struck him down with all his strength. Though he was very underfed, all these years of meaningless hard labour had made him rather wiry and he could still fight well enough. Blind fury enveloped him as he beat the screaming guard with a savage anger. Some of the knights stopped their prancing about and many prisoners were blankly staring at him, some shouted encouragement.

“You think you deserve pity?!” Rowan roared, getting louder and louder with each punch, screaming obscenities at him.

One of the knights laughed a bit nervously at Rowan’s viciousness,

“I think he gets it now friend.”

Rowan paid him no heed, all of his anger and frustration was focused on the vile man, nearly unconscious now. Ten years of anger fuelled him to almost super-human strength and all he wanted to do was kill this man and do it well. He vaguely registered a soft voice say,

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this,” before a sudden calm spread through him and he rather promptly fell asleep.

Rowan awoke, feeling very distinctly uncomfortable. He sat up slowly, and looked around to see a very unfamiliar campsite full of humans and non-humans, there was even a fawn in a far corner on the site.

“Oh, you’re up!”

The cheerful voice belonged to an old man in mismatched, very dirty clothing. Rowan stared at him,

“Where am I?”

”On the way to the Wood of the Dryad, we heard from one of the prisoners you lived there at one point…what was his name…” the old man pondered for a moment, “Oh yes! It was a Sevteg I do believe, nice boy. Very good manners for a dwarf.” The old man grinned at Rowan, “Won’t this be fun? I haven’t visited in about thirty odd years. Why I remember this one time…”

Rowan looked around as the old man rambled. Yes he remembered this grove now; he was on his way home. Too bad Sevteg wasn’t here. He grew rather fond of the polite dwarf over the years; he became one of Rowan’s closest friends while they were at the prison camp. One of the young men broke through Rowan’s thoughts to ask if he had ever met or even knew the Dryad Queen, ruler of the largest forest area in the west and overseer of all forests and magical beings.

“Yes, I know her,” he said rather wistfully, eyes far away. The young man looked rather envious,

“Is she as beautiful as they say?”

“I’ve always thought so.”

Another man spoke, slightly older and very dirty-looking,

“Hey, you ever, y’know,” he made a crude gesture with his hands,”I’ve heard that forest parties can get pretty wild if you catch my meaning, s’the queen a party animal?”, he leered very unattractively, and laughed with the other men, who obviously wanted to know the answer to his question

Rowan’s neutral face slipped and he looked at the man in disgust,

“I don’t what YOUR culture entails sir, but where I come from, boys don’t do that sort

of thing with their mothers,” he managed to say, “and if you could use the proper respect when addressing the Queen, do so, or I may have to hurt you.” What a vulgar man. Everyone gaped at him, mouths open. The old man laughed.

“I thought you looked like ‘er!  Quite the chip off the ol’ stone, eh?”

Rowan raised his eyebrows.

“Yes…quite.”

 

 

Personality

A conversation between the king of Sidaria and Rowan’s father, General Phoebus

 

“I just don’t get him!” the young king complained, “He never just tells me what the problem is or what he wants me to do for our kingdoms to work together. He just goes off on tangents! Really, really long tangents!”

General Phoebus smiled gently,

“He does tell you, your majesty. You just stop listening when it isn’t of interest to you. That’s a fault of yours you know”

King Josef made a sulky face,

“Yeah, well. It’s only because he starts going on about fairy tale creatures and the rights they deserve and the treaties my great great great grandfather signed or whatever. It’s so tedious.”

The general sighed.

“When you’re king, you have to think of tedious things like treaties Highness. And they aren’t fairy tales, the people he speaks of, they’re as real as you or I.”

The king shook his head stubbornly,

“No, they aren’t. They can’t be. He’s human like us anyway, right? I mean, you’re his father for God’s sake. He’s just delusional.”

Phoebus’ jaw tightened,

“I mean you no disrespect majesty, but there seems to be a massive gaping hole in your education. My Rowan is a smart lad. He knows what he speaks of. I suggest you do the same.”

The young king looked rather shame-faced at Phoebus’ words.

“I’m sorry General,” he apologized,” It’s just, he’s so serious! All the time! It wouldn’t kill him to cheer up a bit, yeah?”

Phoebus sighed again.

 “He’s just acting how he feels he should in this time of war.”

“Yes, well I can be serious about that too, but I can still be a happy guy to be around when I’m not in court.”

General Phoebus rolled his eyes upward, God help us, he thought, Please.

 

Physical Appearance

 

Orion looked at his half-brother from a distance, Rowan was standing, a straight figure in the glowing sunset, talking to a few of his forest subjects. He really was a beautiful person-being-whatever. He didn’t think he’d ever find someone more beautiful than Kale, a half-elf in his father’s court. In the fading sunlight, Rowans angular features were softened and his long dark mahogany hair was lit like a halo. He was so very tall, taller than their father even, and very treelike, almost willowy in his stance. Orion mentally slapped himself, of course he was treelike, his mother was a dryad. Speaking of, Rowan was rather pale, he noted. Most dryads were rather golden. A bronze-y colour if you will. While he debated on whether or not the green tinge in his skin was really there or just an illusion, he hadn’t noticed Rowan had walked up to him.

“I know I’m amazingly good-looking and all, but we are brothers and this is rather awkward,” he drawled dryly, his apple-green eyes sparkling mischievously. Orion stared wide-eyed at him and turned several shades of red. Humour, he did not expect from his tall stern older brother.

“I didn’t mean-I was-I was just,” he floundered, trying to explain. Rowan laughed a rare sound.

“I know,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s alright.”

 

Character Reactions

 

Rowan was walking with his father, General Phoebus and was rather seriously discussing the slow but steady war efforts the western countries were pulling together.

“How are the elves taking all this? Do you know?”

 Rowan looked at his father gravely,

“Not as badly as I had thought they would. They are willing to help me as an act of fealty, but they are very worried about the effect on the forests.”

“Well, as are you,” his father added, Rowan nodded distantly, surveying his forest home, the burnt trees of previous attacks by the northern barbarians, the intricately designed stone home hewn of the mountainside. Finally his eyes rested on his mother’s grave. He averted his eyes quickly, ignoring the pain that tightened his chest.

“Speaking of elves, the, uh, the King will be here soon, to discuss our role in the war.”

“We?” his father questioned,

“Non-humans”, Rowan clarified.

“Ah.”

“ROWAN!”

He span around quickly, wide-eyed at the gleeful shriek and was nearly knocked down by a beautiful elf-girl with red hair. His eyes opened even wider,

“Lilly?” he gasped, and before he could say anything else she pulled him into an exuberant kiss, catcalls and wolf whistles erupted around them.

Rowan looked slightly dazed when she pulled away.

“Well,” he said, “I guess you didn’t marry while I was gone after all.”

“Of course not you silly goose!” she admonished,” I’m not as flighty as that!”

“Of course not,” he murmured, ears slightly pink, “How silly of me.”

General Phoebus looked rather thunderstruck at the whole display,

“Rowan, what-?”

Rowan shifted on his feet, while patiently letting this Lilly person check him over for any external wounds and things of that sort.

“Uh, this is Lilly father. She was-,” Lilly made an indignant sound, “sorry IS my fiancée, I suppose you could say. We were betrothed my capture. Mother didn’t tell you?” he avoided eye-contact with him. His ears got pinker. Phoebus was slack-jawed.

“Oh.”

Lilly giggled

 

Character Actions

                                  

The midday sun beat down on Rowans shoulders harshly as he spread the ashes in the clearing. It took him many hours to do so, but he did it. HE surveyed the land gravely, and then looked towards the sky.

“Mother. It is almost done.”

Soon it would rain, he felt it in his bones, and then-only then- could he start the ritual.

It was a very ancient tree growing ritual. In the rain he would dance, a pounding array of acrobatics infused with a magic so old, so ancient even the oldest of trees could not remember where it had originated.

A twig snapped he spun around quickly; it was his brothers, Orion and Mathias. His tense stance relaxed immediately.

“What are you doing here?” he questioned, Orion shifted,

“Matti wanted to see you,” he said a little nervously, and looked at Rowan apprehensively. There was something about the way Rowan carried himself that made Orion nervous. Like he was too proud or too confident maybe. Rowan looked solemnly at the small boy and beckoned him to come closer silently. Though his look was always solemn, his eyes seemed to smile at Mathias.

“I’m going to revive this forest. Would you like to stay?”

Mathias’ eyes opened wide and he nodded vigorously. Rowan smiled again  with his eyes only and ruffled his hair.

“Good lad.” Was all he said.</lj-cut>