A Living Dream
Disclaimer: You actually think I'm smart enough to come up with all of this? Gee, thanks, but I'm not. The world of Middle Earth, and most things in it belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. The characters Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, Eowyn and Eomer also belong to Tolkien. The other characters, the ones from our Earth, all belong to myself (and friends whom I borrowed from with permission). I'm making no money off of this and don't take credit for making the places.
Basics of the Story: A bunch of kids from our world are pulled through the computer and wind up in the land of Middle Earth. They find themselves meeting the characters they had idolized and hated, finding new friendships and enemies along the way.
Status: Most certainly not finished! Under MAJOR construction, should be done in about three weeks.
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Sierra lay on her bed, deep in thought.
A door . . . an opening to another place, a gate into a completely new area of existence. This door was like any other, the handle must be turned the right way. It signaled a change, a turning point.
The girl strugled to remember more.
It meant that there was something behind it. . . something else to be found. There was something hidden, behind closed doors.
She frowned pensively, then tried again.
One had to twist it to open it, then add some force, a push or pull. One had to make the door move in the proper direction. For doors could be used for exiting, as well as entering.
Biting her lip, the tall student wrote this all down.
One should close the door behind themselves, lest someone else find the secret as well. Doors were guardians, protectors of special things.
Taking careful, precise notes, Sierra recorded her flow of thoughts. Cautious not to let her mind wander, she continued on the given path. . . or through the given door. Try as she might, the girl could think of nothing more signifigant about the broad subject of doors.
A wisened, infomative voice broke in to her consentrating state. "Sierra. What have you got?" asked the kindly, knowing voice.
"Only this," she said dejectedly, handing the woman owning the voice the sheet of paper.
She scanned over the paper, muttering under her breath. "Opening, area, handle, change, hide, twist, force, exit and enter, guardians . . . this is all?"
The girl gulped loudly. She nodded, twisting a lock of black hair about her finger.
"Never thought to mention their association with walls? What about windows? And floors?" the old woman gave her a disdainful look. "You'll never become a fanfic author if this is your best effort."
Sierra cringed slightly at the harsh words of her teacher, then nodded slowly. She found herself grinding her teeth in an effort not to retort. She took a calming breath and awaited her teacher's next assignment or critisism.
"Right, well, now that we've settled that, I'll be off to tea. Now, I'll be back next week on Thursday to give you another lesson," she called, and with those parting words she bussled off down the stairs.
Sierra's startled gaze followed her all the way down the stairs. She let out a feeble call of, "but Ms. Kalink," which was lost in the sound of the woman knocking over the coat stand.
"Oh, clumbsy me! Must be more careful with that next time. Oh, and Sierra, before I forget: tell your mother that I'll be sending the bill in the mail," she said, turning back to call up the stairs. The old lady turned with remarkable balance for one so aged and bounced cheerfully out the door.
She's gone? 20 dollars is coming out of my allowance for THAT lesson?! All I did was get told I wasn't good enough after spending an hour thinking!
Sierra gave a heavy sigh as she closed the oak door to her bedroom. She flopped into the cozy computer chair and turned on the moniter with her toe. A yawn slipped through her lips as she waited for the computer to load. She tapped her fingers on the desk as the 'please wait' screen surfaced.
"I'm tired of waiting. Hurry up, stupid comp," she muttered.
The computer seemed to have heard her, replacing the blinking 'please wait' screen with her desktop. Her fingers expertly guided the mouse to the exact place where the 'my documents' icon would be. As soon as it popped onto the screen, she double-clicked and waited for it to bring up the load menu.
She scrolled down to her latest work and began writing. . .
~*~*~*~ ...........It was a cold night in Rivendale, and Tydoni shivered dispite her thick elven cloak. Her straight teeth chattered together and she could only keep out the cold by imagining herself in a warm bed. She gritted her teeth in determination and rode on towards the Elven home.
A candle lit the face of an approaching figure. She gave a gasp of happiness and threw herself from her horse into the arms of 'her' Orlinyr.
'I haven't seen you in so long!' he cried, embracing her cold figure....... ~*~*~*~ Sierra pushed the chair back from the computer. It was no use! She just wasn't in the mood to write. Instead she reached for the phone, instinctively dialing the phone number of her best friend. Again her fingers began to anxiously thrum across the tabletop as she waited for Brie to pick up.
Disclaimer: You actually think I'm smart enough to come up with all of this? Gee, thanks, but I'm not. The world of Middle Earth, and most things in it belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. The characters Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, Eowyn and Eomer also belong to Tolkien. The other characters, the ones from our Earth, all belong to myself (and friends whom I borrowed from with permission). I'm making no money off of this and don't take credit for making the places.
Basics of the Story: A bunch of kids from our world are pulled through the computer and wind up in the land of Middle Earth. They find themselves meeting the characters they had idolized and hated, finding new friendships and enemies along the way.
Status: Most certainly not finished! Under MAJOR construction, should be done in about three weeks.
_____________________________________________________________________
Sierra lay on her bed, deep in thought.
A door . . . an opening to another place, a gate into a completely new area of existence. This door was like any other, the handle must be turned the right way. It signaled a change, a turning point.
The girl strugled to remember more.
It meant that there was something behind it. . . something else to be found. There was something hidden, behind closed doors.
She frowned pensively, then tried again.
One had to twist it to open it, then add some force, a push or pull. One had to make the door move in the proper direction. For doors could be used for exiting, as well as entering.
Biting her lip, the tall student wrote this all down.
One should close the door behind themselves, lest someone else find the secret as well. Doors were guardians, protectors of special things.
Taking careful, precise notes, Sierra recorded her flow of thoughts. Cautious not to let her mind wander, she continued on the given path. . . or through the given door. Try as she might, the girl could think of nothing more signifigant about the broad subject of doors.
A wisened, infomative voice broke in to her consentrating state. "Sierra. What have you got?" asked the kindly, knowing voice.
"Only this," she said dejectedly, handing the woman owning the voice the sheet of paper.
She scanned over the paper, muttering under her breath. "Opening, area, handle, change, hide, twist, force, exit and enter, guardians . . . this is all?"
The girl gulped loudly. She nodded, twisting a lock of black hair about her finger.
"Never thought to mention their association with walls? What about windows? And floors?" the old woman gave her a disdainful look. "You'll never become a fanfic author if this is your best effort."
Sierra cringed slightly at the harsh words of her teacher, then nodded slowly. She found herself grinding her teeth in an effort not to retort. She took a calming breath and awaited her teacher's next assignment or critisism.
"Right, well, now that we've settled that, I'll be off to tea. Now, I'll be back next week on Thursday to give you another lesson," she called, and with those parting words she bussled off down the stairs.
Sierra's startled gaze followed her all the way down the stairs. She let out a feeble call of, "but Ms. Kalink," which was lost in the sound of the woman knocking over the coat stand.
"Oh, clumbsy me! Must be more careful with that next time. Oh, and Sierra, before I forget: tell your mother that I'll be sending the bill in the mail," she said, turning back to call up the stairs. The old lady turned with remarkable balance for one so aged and bounced cheerfully out the door.
She's gone? 20 dollars is coming out of my allowance for THAT lesson?! All I did was get told I wasn't good enough after spending an hour thinking!
Sierra gave a heavy sigh as she closed the oak door to her bedroom. She flopped into the cozy computer chair and turned on the moniter with her toe. A yawn slipped through her lips as she waited for the computer to load. She tapped her fingers on the desk as the 'please wait' screen surfaced.
"I'm tired of waiting. Hurry up, stupid comp," she muttered.
The computer seemed to have heard her, replacing the blinking 'please wait' screen with her desktop. Her fingers expertly guided the mouse to the exact place where the 'my documents' icon would be. As soon as it popped onto the screen, she double-clicked and waited for it to bring up the load menu.
She scrolled down to her latest work and began writing. . .
~*~*~*~ ...........It was a cold night in Rivendale, and Tydoni shivered dispite her thick elven cloak. Her straight teeth chattered together and she could only keep out the cold by imagining herself in a warm bed. She gritted her teeth in determination and rode on towards the Elven home.
A candle lit the face of an approaching figure. She gave a gasp of happiness and threw herself from her horse into the arms of 'her' Orlinyr.
'I haven't seen you in so long!' he cried, embracing her cold figure....... ~*~*~*~ Sierra pushed the chair back from the computer. It was no use! She just wasn't in the mood to write. Instead she reached for the phone, instinctively dialing the phone number of her best friend. Again her fingers began to anxiously thrum across the tabletop as she waited for Brie to pick up.