J.F. Posthumus
About Me
- J.F. Posthumus
- Virginia, United States
- A computer tech and artist that thrives on writing fantasy to escape the harshness of reality.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Banshee's Daughter
My shiny new WiP. It's coming along very nicely and I'm editing as I go... except I didn't get to edit last night. Too much to do and not enough time to do it in. ah, well, c'est la vie!
Here's the first snippet of it, and this time I'm not posting that much.
Enjoy!!!
Here's the first snippet of it, and this time I'm not posting that much.
Enjoy!!!
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Arms bent slightly and crossed at the wrists, Iliana bent backwards a few inches, her left leg posed as though she were going to take a step forward, her auburn hair swaying in the light breeze. A classic pose of a belly dancer, Iliana could have appeared to be practicing the sensual dance her petite form would have been perfect for. Except for the three-headed hydra in front of her that was rearing backwards preparing to unleash it's breath attack.
Despite the fear coiling like serpents in her stomach, Iliana instead kept her blue eyes fixed upon the hydra as she began chanting the soft, melodic words to a spell. Elvish, a distant cousin to Welsh, was a sing-song language dead to all but the sidhe and was the only language magic could be worked in. The fire and ice feel of magic flowed through Iliana's veins and burst from her palms, streaking across the short distance to the hydra. Before the monster could release an attack, it vanished, revealing a very irritated dragon.
Clenching her teeth, Iliana slid backwards a few steps, flexing her fingers, but not lowering her arms. Instead of an attack, the dragon peered closely at Iliana before streaking upwards and vanishing. Dropping her arms, not sensing anything else, Iliana strode forward to the pile of rocks at the base of the large oak tree. She had no clue what had just happened, but questioning it wasn't in her nature. Some questions, she had learned the hard way, were best not answered. Especially when they involved the fey, magic, and mythical beasts long believed imaginary.
Iliana knew better, but only because her mother was a banshee banished from Braesil, an island off Ireland where the sidhe and other fairy folk live. During her youth, she'd had the annoying problem of screaming and then having the dead rising from their graves. It would've been a delightful Halloween trick, or even a fun prank to pull at a funeral, but not in the front yard of a friend's house or at a high school football game.
Having a legion of undead pets and farm animals, not to mention the roadkill, suddenly walking around isn't a very good thing. Especially when you end up being forbidden to even consider uttering a screech or be sent to some unknown island where one day island-time equals one-year in the mortal world. At least it only happened twice and neither time no one noticed except for her mother.
Mortals were not supposed to know of the magical creatures that walked amongst them. It had already occurred once and being the cause for another round of witch hunts would not end prettily, especially when the witches hadn't, yet, recovered from it.
Everyone knew the government had a lousy retirement plan and even worse health insurance. The pay wasn't that great, either. Besides, who wanted to end up as a science experiment for the government?
Everyone knew the government had a lousy retirement plan and even worse health insurance. The pay wasn't that great, either. Besides, who wanted to end up as a science experiment for the government?
Iliana was her mother's daughter, except for being a professional thief. Her mother and a fairy tutor who called herself a baba yaga, who was far prettier than the Slavic myths claimed, trained her in magic from early childhood. Though Iliana had asked her mother how she had managed to get another fey to train her, she'd never received an answer. Banshees could keep secrets better than any one else, mortal or immortal.
Crouching at the edge of the rocks, Iliana wrinkled her nose at the sooty smell and heat that radiated from the departed dragon. She suspected that someone had placed the dragon here, cast an illusion on it to make it appear to be a hydra to further frighten people away, and it had been released by her spell. She suspected whoever chained the dragon to this pile of rocks and tree was going to be a quick snack. Angry dragons were not fun playmates.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
More from Heiress
Since it's still in editing, kinda, I figured I'd post another fav scene here. :) It's after Xandra meets Segav's father and she asks Segav what his family name is... They're in one of the hidden rooms at the Guild talking and asking questions they'd rather not have their classmates know. Enjoy!!!
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“Alright.” Segav seemed relieved. “What… is… your sponsor? I mean, he’s obviously a docelfar and a pretty terrifying wizard, but how did he come to partially own an assassin’s guild? What does he do? Well, I mean, what does he do for a living?”
“Oh.” Xandra had worried that the questions would be all about Great-Father. He dominated so much of her life, and one of the benefits of keeping her relatives secret was that she wouldn’t have to lie about him. With Segav, it was somehow disappointing for him to not ask for her secrets.
“Great-Father has done many things, and still does. He’s been alive for over a millennia, I’m told. I don’t know everything he’s done to gain all that he has…” Xandra trailed off, not wanting to say aloud that she never wanted to know.
“That’s okay, Ali,” Segav said, his voice soothing. When Xandra giggled, he forgot his next long, drawn-out question in favor of a simple “What?”
Xandra found she couldn’t look at Segav, but spoke regardless. “That’s what Father calls Mother… ‘Aly.’ I’ve never been called that before.”
“Oh.” Segav blushed deeply. Xandra could not remember ever seeing him blush that much.
“What is it?” She asked, trying not to giggle.
“I just… didn’t mean to…” Segav stammered. “Your mother’s name is Alixandra, too?”
“No, her name is Alyssiana.” Xandra explained. “A-L-Y-S-S-I-A-N-A. So, she’s called ‘Aly’- A-L-Y. At least, she is by my father, and sometimes by her siblings and Great-Father, of course.”
Segav did not outwardly respond to this. Instead, he asked another short question. “Why do you call your sponsor ‘Great-Father’?”
Xandra, still felling a little giddy from Segav calling her the same affectionate name her mother had, even if it was spelled differently, giggled again at his lack of understanding.
“Because he’s my great-grandfather, of course!” She said, still smiling.
Segav felt the blood drain from his face. Oh, I didn’t want to hear that.
He tried to swallow the panic which that fact had lodged in his throat, and when he noticed how Xandra’s eyes were now sparkling as she looked at him, he found it much easier to do.
Thinking carefully, forming another, intelligent question, he was alarmed to hear his voice speak the words, in a numbed, dreary tone, “Oh, well that explains a great deal.”
He had known that was a terrible thing to say, he could not believe his traitorous mouth had uttered the words. He waited for the terrible reaction; Xandra’s face suddenly looking as though he had slapped it, the hurt in her beautiful eyes…
Xandra threw her head back and laughed. When she looked at him, and spoke words that filled him with relief, she was still smiling in the way that lit her whole face.
“It does, doesn’t it? He’s always been so protective of me, at least as long as I can remember! It gets to be irritating, and hard to deal with.”
“Well, yes, of course it would!” was all that Segav could think to say.
He tried to fathom what kind of a childhood he would have had if his life included such a terrifying, dangerous being in it: Worse still, if it had been a blood relative.
Xandra had never struck him as really evil; she was mischievous, certainly, but docelfar blood meant that the ability for unbelievable cruelty lay in the blood.
No wonder she is studying to be an assassin, and has so much ability at our age, Segav thought, and how could someone so beautiful be like the man that terrorized our classroom, and then my dorm quarters?
“This is just a guess,” Segav ventured, “but your great-grandfather taught you some things before making sure you got into this Guild, didn’t he?”
“I had to pass my examination test, same as everyone does.” Xandra said, and there was a little resentment in her voice.
Wonderful, Segav chastised himself, if I keep going on foolishly, perhaps I should spare us both and have the alchemy tutor poison me!
“But, yes,” she continued, “Great-Father had already tutored me in some unusual weapons, as well as some alchemy, spell-casting, chess, strategy, how to properly kill someone from behind with a dagger, and picking locks. My mother taught me to move silently- Father couldn’t, really, he’s part human – and how to climb just about anything. Father mostly taught me how to hunt, and hand-to-hand combat, how to fight with every weapon we had around the house, he also encouraged my brother and me to learn music-”
“Wait,” Segav pleaded with Xandra, his head still dizzy from the over-abundance of information. His mind grasped at the first skills she had mentioned that had startled him.
“You know how to mix chemicals and cast spells?” he asked, making a mental note to try and get her to teach him about the weapons she was fluent with, as well as how to back-stab: They weren’t supposed to learn that at the Guild for another two years!
“Sure, I just said Great-Father taught me that; didn’t I?” Xandra giggled again.
“Could you… could you show me something?” Segav was already feeling like a small child next to her.
Gods, she knows so much! He thought.
The urge to see proof, and simple curiosity, won out over his other feelings.
“Of course!” Xandra exclaimed gleefully. She looked around for something. “Let me see what I can… ah!”
Leaning to her left, she pointed at the side of the bookshelf that was close to them. Segav did not understand, and then his keen eyes noticed a small spider crawling along the outer plank of the bookshelf. Xandra hurried over to it and swatted the spider with her bare hand. She cupped her hand and walked over to him; the cupped hand held up in front of him. When she was only two feet away from him, he could see the corpse of the spider. It lay, curled up and belly exposed, on her soft palm.
Bringing her other hand above the one holding the spider, Xandra winked at Segav. Then, she looked down and whispered something towards her hands. The empty hand began to glow a sickening green in the center of her palm, and she cupped this hand over the one with the spider, making a shape like a ball. There was a brilliant flash of the same sickening green light between the fingers, and then nothing.
Moving the top hand away, Xandra revealed the spider, now looking whole and standing upright on its eight tiny legs. It did not move, however, until Xandra’s free hand gestured. The spider moved in the direction her hand moved: Up her arm, back down her arm, and then, when she knelt down and placed the hand holding the spider against the floor, across the floorboards until she stopped gesturing.
The look on his face must have shown some of the awe and horror he felt; when Xandra looked at him expectedly, she almost immediately frowned in disappointment.
“What’s the matter? That wasn’t impressive enough?” She asked him, a twinge of hurt in her voice.
“That’s… that’s necromancy!” He blurted, unable to stop himself.
“Oh, just a little bit… not even that much. It’s a fairly common spell used by wizards and priests to raise a familiar,” Xandra said, sounding like she was trying to make light of it all. “Really, Segav, it’s not used on humans, or elves, or anything like that. I’m not that good at it, either. I can’t raise so much as a bird; only insects.”
“Right… of course,” Segav said, trying to will himself to believe that what she had done was as innocent as the tone in her voice, and the look in her eyes. He was starting to believe it. He was.
“Well, how about this?” Xandra asked, and then she turned back to the spider and pointed. A cone of blue magic shot from her fingertip, flew towards the spider, and engulfed it. Nothing remained when the glow faded from the floorboard.
“Brilliant!” Segav cheered.
Monday, October 5, 2009
State Fair Announcement
Ok, so I should've posted this last week or even over the weekend... but the weekend was wickedly busy. I think I was online for a total of three, maybe four hours tops. If you include checking my email on my cellphone.
Anywhos, I figured I'd at least post the results of the state fair. I won second place with my cherub! WEEEE!!! I now have a total of THREE ribbons from the state fair! Third Place from the first year I entered, 1st place from last year, and 2nd place from this year. I got my wish! I placed again this year. Now, all I need is the Rosette from Best in Show/Section. I've got an idea for next year, so maybe if I'm lucky it'll turn out all pretty and I'll get my rosette. Or, maybe I can somehow improve my artistic non-computer-generated-art-side and do something really spectacular and win it that way. (Yes, yes, I know... not likely, but one can wish, yes?)
I know I posted my cutesy cherub once, but I figured I'd post it again for those who haven't seen it yet. :)
Seeing this, yet again, I can easily see why it didn't take first place, but... second place isn't too bad, in my opinion. Not at the VA STATE FAIR!
Anywhos, I figured I'd at least post the results of the state fair. I won second place with my cherub! WEEEE!!! I now have a total of THREE ribbons from the state fair! Third Place from the first year I entered, 1st place from last year, and 2nd place from this year. I got my wish! I placed again this year. Now, all I need is the Rosette from Best in Show/Section. I've got an idea for next year, so maybe if I'm lucky it'll turn out all pretty and I'll get my rosette. Or, maybe I can somehow improve my artistic non-computer-generated-art-side and do something really spectacular and win it that way. (Yes, yes, I know... not likely, but one can wish, yes?)
I know I posted my cutesy cherub once, but I figured I'd post it again for those who haven't seen it yet. :)
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Me & My Co-Writer
Since I talk about him enough, I figured I'd post a picture. To put a face with the name. :D
This is me and Mark taken at my cousin's funeral home when my grandfather passed away. For some reason, funerals and weddings are more like family get-togethers than anything else. At least at the "receiving" part. Yes, we are a very weird family. Which explains a lot about my writing....
This is me and Mark taken at my cousin's funeral home when my grandfather passed away. For some reason, funerals and weddings are more like family get-togethers than anything else. At least at the "receiving" part. Yes, we are a very weird family. Which explains a lot about my writing....
Teaser Tuesday - Gifts of the Gods
Ok, so this is a scene from "Gifts of the Gods". Aeryn, the daughter of Shamazu (the Goddess of Fire and Lust) has just met Baudin and they've gone out for a day/night of fun. So, they go to a nice little restaurant to eat where a former patron of the Orexis where Aeryn works as a hostess, decides to intrude. A fight breaks out involving Baudin, Grunk (a half-orgre) and a bunch other patrons. Baudin tells Aeryn to scram, which she does reluctantly. The following is what happens after Aeryn leaves the restaurant.
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She had taken only a dozen short steps from the restaurant when a high-pitched, arrogant female voice demanded, "Where d'ya think to be going, ya trallop?"
"Trallop?" Aeryn asked in amusement, "There's a name I haven't been called before."
"Think yer boy can start a mess with my beloved Grunk an' win, do ya?" The petite blond, dressed in a faux silk white top and dark blue breeches, walked around to face her. "Well, he fights for my honor, ya trollop, and will win in my name!"
Aeryn raised a brow, "Actually, if you desire to place blame, place it upon the lout that interrupted our dinner." She sighed extravagantly, much as she had heard her mother do before Shamazu unleashed her terror upon a mortal or fellow deity. "Thank you for that information. Since your beloved Grunk is now fighting the entire restaurant for your supposed 'honor,' you should be quite happy."
"Oh, he's goin' to walk out of there, tall and proud!" The smaller woman declared. "Gonna be holding your handsome friend's head for a souvenir! How der ya like that?"
"Shall we stand here and wait for that, then?" Aeryn answered sardonically. "Perhaps there is a nearby tavern we can grab a drink while we wait for the glorious return of Grunk?"
The blonde began to smile, then her expression became sour again.
"Ya'r mocking me an' my Grunk, aren't ya?" She demanded accusingly. "I knew ya needed to have the smart knocked out of ya- that's why I'm here!"
Why do they always want to fight? Aeryn sighed inwardly. They always claim it is for 'honor', but most wouldn't know what it was if it stabbed them in the heart.
"We aren't waiting for Grunk to emerge to fight, once again, for your 'honor?' Can you be sure that he'd want that?" Aeryn quizzed, keeping her smirk carefully concealed.
The woman looked confused, but this expression was also fleeting, replaced by the sour expression.
"Are you fighting for your Grunk's 'honor,' then?" Aeryn's voice sounded mischievous to her own ears. But she could not help it; this fool practically begged for a lesson in reality.
"Don't mock us!" The woman screamed in a shrill voice, and charged.
Aeryn bent her knees, pivoted her torso, and waited. When the woman's arms were about to grab Aeryn's hair, Aeryn threw her right fist in between the woman's breasts. Impacting fully against her adversary's sternum, Aeryn knocked the woman two steps back from her. Gasping, the woman's arms crossed her chest, as if she could gather breath into her lungs.
"That's just a taste, fool." Aeryn warned. "Now, go sit down and wait for your pet."
Still gasping, the woman stumbled towards the restaurant. Aeryn waited, not taking her eyes off the petite blonde. Her adversary stopped after a few uneven steps, and bent over, facing away from Aeryn.
When the blonde woman straightened back up, she turned, face red and still trying for normal breath. She held a long dagger in her right hand, and was making her uneasy way back to Aeryn.
"I don't want to know where you kept that hidden." Aeryn observed. The woman swung the blade before she was close enough to even have a chance of using it against Aeryn.
Aeryn stepped in, catching the woman's weapon arm easily with her left hand. She struck with her right, breaking the cartilage at the woman's elbow viciously. The arm bent unnaturally outward; the dagger fell from limp fingers and a high, piercing scream cut the air, nearly deafening Aeryn. She silenced the woman with a punch to the throat. Stepping back, she removed her hands, and watched the blonde adversary crumple to the ground, choking.
The front of the restaurant exploded; glass and wood flew around Aeryn. As the debris settled, the form of the half-ogre could be seen, carrying two thin humans that Aeryn did not recognize. Grunk, who was cut, bruised and bleeding, wobbled precariously on his legs. He was nearly blind; his left eye was swollen shut and blood from a scalp wound poured into his right. A few steps behind him walked Baudin. He was a little scuffed, a little dirty, but he walked upright and was smiling. He brushed dirt from his sleeves as he spotted Aeryn.
The half ogre bellowed in rage. He was looking at the petite blonde, who had passed out. Her throat was swollen, but she was alive. Grunk dropped the two men he had been carrying. Aeryn presumed they were servers from the restaurant, due to the clothing they wore. Grunk turned and looked at Aeryn, his unreasoning rage focused on her.
Aeryn sighed, and drew upon the mystical energy around her. Holding both hands in front of her, she unleashed a wall of fire, roasting the half ogre from throat to knees. The smell of roasting meat filled her nostrils, but she still poured on the flame.
When she ceased, the half ogre's corpse was still standing, although all muscle and flesh had been burned to bone from his thighs to his breastbone. Grunk's body finally collapsed, falling away from the petite blonde. Bone and spine snapped loudly at his hit the ground. The woman began to stir; her hair burned in places, and one eyebrow singed away.
Aeryn looked quickly to Baudin, afraid of what his reaction might be. He was, she saw with relief, smiling and nodding appreciatively to her. She smiled nervously back at him before walking over to the fried corpse.
It took two of the strongest kicks she could muster, and a great deal of pulling with her arms, but Aeryn managed to free the half-ogre's head from the rest of his body. She dropped it, unceremoniously, into the lap of the waking woman. The woman blinked, trying to comprehend what was in her lap.
"Something for you to curl up with at night, while you dream your fantasies of honor," Aeryn spat.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Artwork in Fair - Cherub
Well, the other two I did I had to take photos of, and of course they are at home still on the camera. However, this is the digital art I did and entered. Opinions are, of course, welcome! :D
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Teaser Tuesday - A Quiet Scene...
As requested, here's a quiet scene. Xandra has been cajoled into going with her brother to a political event, a dinner party. Since Xandra hates anything to do with politics or being 'proper', she typically keeps away from them for fear of damaging her brother's career...something about being an assassin... anyways, after the whole fiasco with Segav's foot being turned into a treestump and her angering Xantos, she accepts her brother's offer. She's pretty bored until another politician approaches her and starts up a conversation. He suggests a walk in the garden, and she accepts... She suspects there's more to this politician who's probably older than her parents than what he's telling/showing, but she likes him anyway.
So, here's the scene, with them in the garden after they talk about her brother a bit.
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So, here's the scene, with them in the garden after they talk about her brother a bit.
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“You are most fortunate to have parents as well as grandparents who love you enough to ensure you receive the fullest education possible.” Eronous stated, as Xandra bent slightly to sniff a single white rose. Respectfully, she kept eye contact with Eronous as their conversation continued.
“Great-Father is our only other living relative in Deltheya, unless you include our gods-parents and adopted uncle. We have aunts and uncles in Faedale, though, who are Mother’s brothers and sisters.” Xandra replied calmly, though it was a task to keep her voice calm and steady.
She turned towards Eronous and tilted her head to the side. “What we are most fortunate for is the fact that not our mother, father, or great-grandfather have attempted to tell us which career path we should take. We have been given that choice freely, unlike many children who are forced to follow in their parents’ footsteps.” She turned and added, “Or forced to follow in the path another deems fit.”
The fierceness which Xandra spoke must have caught Eronous off guard, for she sensed his whole body stiffen. It was a long moment before he spoke.
“Your brother chose the political arena. What arena have you chosen, Alixandra?” Eronous said softly, but his voice carried to her ears easily.
When she glanced up from examining the soft petals of a lavender rose, she was startled to find Eronous standing behind her, looking over her head at the soft flower in her hand. She had not heard his steps and she had been trained early to listen and hear what most could not.
He stated calmly, “The beauty of the flower will never match the beauty that will one day be yours.”
Suddenly feeling flustered and uncertain, she responded to his former question, quickly dropping her hand away from the base of the bloom. “I haven’t yet chosen a path to follow.”
She wasn’t about to tell this stranger that she wanted to be an assassin. That she wanted to learn from Great-Father and he encouraged her training at the guild. It was something she loved. But tell this high elf of stature that she was training at a guild for assassins? And chance damaging her brother’s chosen career? Never.
She moved away from Eronous, in an attempt to distance herself. However, he moved with a silence that she only hoped to accomplish. Not even his voluminous robes made a whisper as he moved. She could only sense his presence, nothing more. It was, undoubtedly, unnerving.
“Ah, you are but in the start of becoming an adult. Had I not rebelled against my family and left to carve my name out on my own and become that which I am today, I believe I would have chosen the path of a rogue; a thief, perhaps.” He replied, as he pulled a blood-red rose towards him and inhaled the fragrance.
Xandra looked up at the blue-gray eyes and smiled slightly, “The laws that govern the thieves are as dangerous to the unwary as the laws which rule those who desire to be in politics. The only difference being death comes quicker to the unwary thief than it does to the powerful politician.”
“Unless one becomes the target of an assassin; in which case, no matter the chosen profession, the unwary becomes a corpse quickly and without another thought.” Eronous added softly.
“What do you know of assassins?” Xandra snapped, immediately regretting her tone.
“The same as everyone, my dear. Even I have been a target of the occasional assassin. Everyone with power is always prone to the whimsy desires of those beneath them who desire to usurp their position through their target’s death.”
Xandra thought to the story of her maternal grandfather’s death. He had been victim to an assassination. Her mother had been forced to assassinate her father’s mother as a child by none less than Xantos at the tender age of ten. She, herself, was training to become an assassin. It was in her blood; her inheritance from her family. Her thoughts were mirrored on her face and she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She looked up to see an expression of compassion and understanding on Eronous’s face. It was an expression seldom seen from her great-grandfather but seen often on her parents’ faces.
“You have felt the pain inflicted caused by one who has perished at an assassin’s hands?”
Xandra shook her head slowly, “No, but I know of some who have and they still feel the pain of those deaths even now, despite the years, decades, that have passed.”
The hand squeezed her shoulder slightly, before slipping beneath her arm until her hand rested, once more, on his forearm. “That pain never dies, it only lessens; unless one is cold-hearted and cares for none but themselves. Assassins are, in my humble opinion, cold-hearted bastards who care for none but themselves. They would have to be jaded, else they would fall victim to their demons invoked by their deeds.”
Xandra thought of Alden and found it difficult to believe he was jaded but then, he did work for Great-Father and if truth be told, he was not always kind and gentle.
She shrugged lightly, “You speak as though assassins are close to your heart.”
Eronous laughed softly, “No, dear lady, they are not. But I have lived long and have seen those assassins who have been taken by those who enforce laws. They are hardened criminals who appear to care for nothing but their own skin. Unlike you, I have had someone taken from me by an assassin’s blade; it is not something I would wish upon anyone.”
Xandra chuckled ruefully, “You were right; most here would be very much appalled by our conversation.” She glanced up into his eyes and noticed they were very clear yet hid his thoughts perfectly. She opened her mouth to continue, but was instead broken off by the voice of her brother.
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