Wednesday 26 October 2011

Hey guys :)

I know no one will read this. Wanna know why? Because I don't really post anything any more. So nobody checks up on poor, lonely, loony Lunar. But I wanted to make this post anyway. Just to update my blog.

I wanted to start by informing you on one of the weirdest questions anyone has asked me. At least, I think it is. Actually, I probably have been asked stranger, but I forgot the questions. Or, you know, actually blocked them from my conscious thoughts as they were so strange. The question? I hear you cry from the dull screens of your laptops and computers, where you procrastinate your life away.
Do you moisturise your arms?

Seriously? Do I look (or sound, rather) like I moisturise my arms? Does anybody moisturise their arms? I was asked this peculiar question as I was being towed to the hoops for netball.
"Your arms are so soft. Do you moisturise them?" I was asked by my friend. My arms.
And the answer to the question?
No.

My school sends letters home to your parents if you're extra good. At the start of the year, you'll get quite a lot. Towards the end of the year, at least in my class, it's pretty rare.
"Emma," my real name for anybody who doesn't know, "you got a letter from Mrs Doyle. Who's she?"
"PE teacher."

"PE? ...Are you joking?"
Supportive, much? OK, PE is not my best subject. Which only makes it more ironic that I go to a Specialist Sports College. However, 83.33% (Maths is one of my better subjects) of my classmates are bloodthirsty wolves. They prey on marshmallows like me. And I'm helpful. So yes, I got a praise home.

Sticking to a school theme, I have possibly two exams on the 9th of November. I haven't checked my timetable yet, but this means I miss either two hours of triple PE and both music lessons, or vice versa. If I miss both of my music lessons, then I'll miss the woman coming in to teach my music class how to use the software for the computer. Apparently she looks like River Song, so I do hope I meet her. One of the exams is Maths. It's a resit, but I got an A* on the original, but if I do better I can 'pull my second grade to an A* as well'. I hope I meet River Song though.
I don't have three hands to play my composition.

It's coming up to my one year anniversary on blogger. If you look on my profile page, it'll say October 2010. Technically this is correct. However it was 11 p.m. on October 31st, I made a short post, was kicked of the Internet and returned the next day to post a comment on Derek's blog, which was the only reason I originally made this account. Am I supposed to thank everyone for all their support and hospitality and kindness they showed in welcoming me to blogger at this point? I'm not really the type. But... um... thanks, everyone.

Picture time!


I went to the cinema today. I wanted to go see the Lion King in 3D, but SOMEONE (yes, that's YOU, mother) wanted to see The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn. Like I said before, I'm a marshmallow. I'm going to be honest and say I thought there would be an actual unicorn in the animation. There isn't. Once I realised this, and got over the initial disappointment, it was a very good film. Simon Pegg voiced the Thompson twins, who I thought were very funny.

I just checked the rule for whom and who.


I'll let you go back to your lives now.

Monday 26 September 2011

What Makes Me Alive?

Just a poem I wrote in ten minutes.


What is it, exactly,
That makes me alive?

My heart?
That beats to a thousand drums,
Pounding and throbbing,
Aching and breaking,
To a steady rhythm
Endlessly.

My brain?
With memories of torment,
Knowledge of loss,
Loose wild imaginings,
Replaying on a broken tape
Endlessly.

My eyes?
Mirrors to the soul,
To watch the death,
Of a thousand innocents,
Images never forgotten
Endlessly.

My mouth?
Filled with a swallowed tongue,
And pearly whites,
Moving to voice,
An understated opinion
Endlessly.

For I sit in my room,
Locked and isolated,
Trapped, taken, tousled,
I ask, what makes me alive?
Endlessly.

I do not ask,
A scientist.
Nor do I ask,
A priest.
I ask,
The person who knows me.
Me, myself, my mind.

What is it that makes me alive?
But who is that one that knows me?

Sunday 31 July 2011

Finding Sky by Joss Stirling


Being the consistant reader that I am, I have read a lot of books. In the past year or so, most of these books have been a similar genre. The dark, Gothic romance genre. Finding Sky, written by Joss Stirling, was one of my most recent and unusual finds. Walking through the shelves of my local Waterstones, I discovered the book nestled in between other books which I failed to buy, sadly. One of the factors that attracted me to Finding Sky was the cover of the book. Now, I know that I shouldn't judge a book by its cover, and I didn't! Turning over to find the blurb, I realized it was exactly what I liked in these books: a romance more dangerous than anyone can imagine. So after I walked out of the shop, Waterstones bag in hand, I got started reading straight away. And couldn't stop.
   It took every ounce of willpower I had to pull away from the book just to eat and drink. Thankfully, I was reading in the summer holidays, so sleeping wasn't in the planning book for six weeks. The author and storyline had me gripped to the book-- it was like the main character, Sky Bright, five foot and one debatable inch of conflict and confusion, had reached out and held me by the throat, never letting me leave the story unfinished for more than an hour. The other characters had me in fits of emotion, too. Once again, a book that had me laughing so hard my parents worried for my mental health. Seriously. This book has a bad boy that you don't forget. Troubled, mysterious, arrogant but underneath it all, secretly sweet and gentle. That, and the fact that he has six brothers, each of whom are hoping for their true love, their literal Other Half, their Soulfinder.
   I'm trying desperately not to give much away, but it's so hard! Sky is a London girl, recently moved to Colorado, America. Joss Stirling, fantastic author of this book, visited some of the destinations in which this book is set. So I'm guessing some of the reactions to English Sky come from her own experiences. That's what I'm guessing, in any case. At one point, Sky is told to "stop being so damn British about it!" I found this hilarious, for some reason.
   Sky has a gap in her memory from what happened until she was six. All that she knows is that it was a tragic time for her. Sally and Simon, her adoption parents, move to the town of Wrickenridge, a ski-crazy part of Colorado, where she so happens to meet Zed. God-like creature? Wolfman? Soulfinder? Some traumatic things take place around Sky, not least having her mind completely messed up, all because of a secret she all but forgot. She's a savant. I'll leave it up to you to work out what this means for her. (Hint: Google).
   After I had finished Finding Sky, and its sneak preview of Stealing Phoenix, I rushed to the internet for more information. Stealing Phoenix will be about one of Zed's brothers', Yves Benedict, and his story of his Soulfinder. Yves is one of my favourite brothers, next to Xavier, and he is also a favourite of one of Sky's friends, Zoe. I wonder what her reaction will be when Yves introduces her to his Soulfinder... Also on the internet, I found a competition for an early proof version of Stealing Phoenix, so I decided to enter... This is my entry. The competition asks for a review of Finding Sky, and the best three wins! I have my fingers crossed, but I know there will be amazing reviewers out there, so I won't get overexcited. Stealing Phoenix is published in September, which is just over two months away! Personally, I can't wait, and apparently neither can the many other fans that have commented on Joss's website.
   Whatever happens, I thoroughly enjoyed Finding Sky, and highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys a fast-paced, thrilling, romantic read. I give this book five stars, mainly because it is not like the other books in this genre, although I have to admit it fits into more genre than one. Here is the part of the review where I tell you to replace popular books like Twilight or the House of Night series with this book, like I have seen done by famous reviewers. But with a book like Finding Sky... You just can't compare it with those books; it's too unique.

- Emma, aka Lunar Tears

Monday 13 June 2011

In this blog post, is a fairy. And it's pretty damn awesome.

Hello fellow bloggers! In this post I shall post pictures I have long wanted to show you.

Most of the pictures I planned to show you went dodgy with the scanning part, so I had to have replacements.

This is the most recent thing I've drawn, not coloured in yet.

I quite like this one. Just a manga girl I was fond of.

And now you have to guess who this is! In my defence, the nose does not look this bad in person. However, her eyes do look as creepy. But I still think I got her gormless expression just right.

Goofy teeth and big nose! XD
And now a random Emily the Strange picture:
Tilt your head, sorry.
This manga drawing was in colour, and I did really like it, but my scanner doesn't recognise the colour, so it is just in black and white. :(
And the head is chopped off
And now for the fairy! This is probably my favourite birthday card ever. My friend drew this. Her taken name is Magenta, so I'll call her that. She knows how amazing she is at art, but she's too modest to admit it! Which is very frustrating for me. The picture is supposed to be what I would look like if I were a fairy:


On the computer, it doesn't really show how amazing it is, but there it is. It is pretty accurate, only I'm not as pretty. Any comments I could pass on to her would be appreciated.

And now I've had a breakthrough in history homework, so you might not see much of me...

Tuesday 10 May 2011

Today, is a special day

Today, is a VERY special day

Ok, not really. But I have been haven arguments over whether an octopus is 'puffy' or 'fat'. It was fat, by the way. Definitely fat. Also debates over whether I have a nose, but that's for another day.

71 years ago Winston Churchill took over as prime minister from whoever was in charge before that. Someone who knows their history, please remind me of his name (just kidding). Said to be Britain's best prime minister, he had a desk built over his bed so he coul work in his sleep. It was also rumoured to be an alcoholic, but if anything he was a role model!

That, however, is NOT why today is a special day.

It is my friend's birthday! Well, there's two, so say happy birthday!

That is also not why today is special.

Tomorrow is my birthday! Yey!! 14! Woo!

Not special either.
Today is special BECAUSE...

Drum roll, please.

*drum roll plays*






I just wanted to post for any random reason. Hi everyone!

Monday 2 May 2011

Kil Me. Kill Me Now.

I am crying inside right now. I had the first part of a fanfic to show you, that I have been working on all week, and as I'm finally ready to post it , it deletes. And I can't get it back.

Kill me. Kill me now.


AND I have to go back to school tomorrow. This day just gets worse. And it has barely begun.

Sigh.

Anyway, I hate an all-bad post, so enjoy this picture:

Oh, I can't post pictures on my iPod. Well that sucks.

Sunday 24 April 2011

Random Vampire Thing

I'm hoping this gets posted. My last attempt had 'errors'. I was tired in my room, so I wrote this. It might not be very good, but… it's something I haven't tried before, so it's OK for me first attempt.

My name is Lunar Tears. At least, that's what I like to be called. It's my name now. My vampire name.
Vampire is just a terminology, though. I didn't want to be a vampire. I usually just say I'm immortal. But immortality comes at a price. And this is mine.
I had a friend. She experimented in science a lot. Not a great deal to say about her, the human memories fade away after time. But there is one memory a vampire will never forget, how they became a vampire. Everyone has a different way of becoming a vampire. They anger the Higher Power, something some may call God, in which they commit an act that is unnatural and going against His ways. The act must be unforgivable. Unforgettable, in our case. I can sense you asking what I did, in your mind, at the back of your head, a question gently gnawing away at your mind, even if you don't know it yet. 
I was just like you once. Well, not really. I was probably more educated. Richer. Stranger. But most of all, I had a desire for something more. Something different to the same routine, same house; same people. I wanted an adventure, I wanted power.
The friend I spoke about earlier gave a possible solution to this. She'd been reading some damned books and thought she'd figured out how to make the Elixir of Life. She wanted to test it out on me. I should have said no right then. But I was desperate. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Or something like that.
Anyway, Ali (her name, back then) made the Elixir. It took her three months to perfect, and exactly that amount of time for me to build up the courage.
The Elixir itself was a lilac colour. It soothed me, as lilac has always been my favourite colour, and it wasn't a sickly green or a puke-like yellow. It swirled around in the small tube it was contained in. It had a smooth texture, but when Ali poured it into a round glass, an inherited antique she kept a watchful eye on, it bubbled and fizzed and hissed at us. I reached my shaky hand out and kept a loose grip on the curse that was in that glass. I touched it to my lips, and took a small sip. It burned my tongue, but I forced more down my pleading throat. After I emptied the glass, I doubled over in coughing fits. That was when I saw the Light.
If I'm being completely honest with you, I thought I'd died. Who knows what Ali put in that damned mixture of hers? I trusted her with my life. And that is exactly what I lost.
The Light was God's messenger. Not exactly what you hear in the Christian Bible or the Torach. It told me I had committed an act that was unforgivable, that only Satan would redeem my sins. Bending the rules of life made me what I am. I didn't want to join the devil. There was only one other option for me. The Light also whispered me a secret. But you'll have to torture me a bit more for that.
So nobody bit me. No vampire seeked me out join them for eternity. No tragic love story. Just a tragic tale, of a girl with no direction choosing the wrong trail.
How old am I? Has your mother never told you it is rude to ask a woman her age? I suppose it makes a fair point I'm not technically a woman, but I am female and I do age. Fine, I'll say. The average woman lives to the age of eighty in this country. Multiply that by three, then add two, then divide that number by one-point-three-three-three-two. Then you might get a slight idea as to how old I am.
I forget that human minds aren't as sharp, but that's what all these years do to you...
I can't say what my powers are. The Higher Council will kill me. Oh, there are ways I can die. Of course, I won't tell you, but vampires make enemies of other vampires. So we naturally need ways to kill each other. That's what I've heard, anyway. I've only met one other vampire. A dying race, you see. More people are... Good, now, I guess you would say. Even with less people having faith in religion, they have morals. A surprise, as you can guess. 
Oh, you were asking me about the Higher Council. I forgot. Purely accidental, as I'm sure you'll believe. The Higher Council are exactly as they sound. A leadership of the oldest vampires history knows. Napoleon was a vamp. The Higher Council killed him in the end though, he was about to be exposed. His death was covered up with that cancer story. I have never met a member of the Higher Council, so don't bother asking. As far as I know, they're a legend, possibly invented by Edward or whoever he talked to. Edward is the vampire I've met. And sorry to disappoint any deranged Twilight fan girls out there, but Edward was a popular name in those times, so no, it was not Edward Cullen. I almost killed Edward… but  chose not to. I keep in contact with him sometimes, but not how you would expect. If you want to know about Edward, then all you need to know is that he's reckless. Oh, and for you humans, he drinks a hell of a lot of blood. I'm surprised he doesn't drown in it. Sometimes I wish he would…
I drink blood too, but not nearly as much. I have donors, and we have a schedule as to which one I drink from. They each want something in return, it differs for each person. Like Mike, he only wants a fulfilment in life. His mother never loved him, it touches my cold, unbeating heart. Or Liam, he needs dates for certain events he gets invited to in his high-society life.
Oh yes, every prey, I mean donor, is male. There is no dignity otherwise. You must lure them to give you blood, how else can you trust them? Us vampires have charm, and are indefinitely more beautiful than humans. Don't act like you have not been affected, Mr Stanley, remember I can read your mind. We have that affect on everyone, sometimes even each other…
The richer the catch, the better life, the sweeter the blood. It should have been Liam's turn tonight… oh, why can't he visit? And Mike shall be worrying, who knows what his mother has said this time?! Please Mr Stanley... John? Please? John…?
You're starving me, John. And I don't like it.

John Stanley stopped the recording and looked at the drained vampire in front of him. Her emerald green eyes glared at him, the same way they'd done for the past week, when they first captured and deprived her. The torturing methods had little impact on her, but she was weak. That recording was the first and only time she had cracked. But they needed more.
"That is very useful information you have given us, Lunar. But I'm afraid we need more."
Lunar's glare turned more vicious, and she snarled at Stanley.
"More? You want more? The full vampire history? It lasts all eternity! I live that long, but you don't." Lunar snapped her mouth shut, her eyes never leaving her torturer.
"It's not too much the history that we're interested in, Lunar, it's the future."
"I'll never say!" Lunar shrieked.
"Ah, but at least now we know you know something."
Lunar leaned back in her uncomfortable metal seat.
"Have I ever told you how vampires contact each other, Stanley? Hmm? They send out a psychic signal, that passes from one vampires mind, charges through the air, and to the other vampires mind."
"Thank you for that Lunar, but that's really not--"
"You think I told you that for your little plans?" Lunar interrupted, a chain of laughter coming from her lips. "No, Stanley, I just thought you would want an explanation."
From behind Lunar, bricks from the wall exploded inwards. A fog came in from the hallway, and a figure dressed all in black stepped in.  Lunar craned her neck around to see. A reassured smile crept upon her face when she saw the figure.
"Sorry Stanley, but I have other plans."
In a blur, the figure was beside Stanley and a pool of blood was flowing from Stanley's snapped neck and then decapitation.
"It'a about time," Lunar remarked, eyeing the blood tormenting her.
The figure strode behind Lunar, dropped down leaning on one knee, and whispered in her ear, his shaggy dark hair a similar shade to her own tickling the back of her neck.
"Qu'ont-ils fait pour vous, mon petit?" He spoke in a French accent.
"Été en France ces derniers temps, nous avons?" Lunar asked.
"Non! Belgique, en fait."
"Awww, can we stop now? You know I failed at French," Lunar whined.
Edward pulled at the restraints around Lunar's ankles and wrists and they tumbled off her. Lunar leaned her head against Edward's shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispered. Edward patted Lunar's head gently as the first tear Lunar shed for over one hundred years, rolled down her cheek.

Eventually, Lunar rose from her chair.
"I need blood," she exclaimed.
"You don't want Stanley here?"
"No, he'll be stale by now."
"It is such a waste of blood…" Edward desirably gasped.
"Well, you drink him then."
"No no, let's just go."
"Only if you're sure..." Lunar teased.
"Yes, I'm-- Oh wait," Edward opened the cassette player and removed the tape player  from inside. He tapped it while pacing past Lunar, paused, and asked, "Vampires have the affect on one another, do they?" He raised one of eyebrows and cocked his head to the  side.
"I can read your mind, Edward," she explained as she was passing him. "What did you think my Power was?"
"You control the elements," Edward replied.
"Oh. Yes. What can I say?" She gently spoke in his ear, "I may be damned, but I'm blessed."