musings

The smell of axle grease and smoke wafts from the open door way of The Mechanics shop in Ogrimmar. A few patrons old and new stop, poking their heads into the building, the loud sounds of a woman at work ricochet off the walls while drowning out their greetings. Some get her attention and she'll stop her work to chat for a bit before politely excusing herself to return to her tasks. She's had many orders since she's returned to her shop. A Chopper Engine here to get reworked, a crossbow there--guns and security systems in between. Sliding out from... perhaps her third engine of the day, she sits up on the creeper and pushes her goggles to the top of her forehead. Dark brown hair looks a bit awkward, sticking up in places where the band to the eye-protection catches it. The woman sighs, tugging a glove off one hand before using her forearm to wipe the sweat from her brow. She reached over to the side bench, unstopping her canteen, and took a long drink of water as her eyes wandered out her skylight.

Ada Foxtrot had returned to Ogrimmar.

Since Blizzard had their little party and mentioned certain things that are upcoming in the next expansion, I've noticed a few argument/complaint threads have broken out on the official and related forums here and there.  I'm not going to mention the details here because it can be considered a SPOILER.  But those of you who read them as well will know what I mean and hopefully avoid spoilerising if you choose to add to this thread  ;)

Also:  please don't turn this into a shit-slinging storm of bias and parochialism.  None of us are ACTUALLY Horde or Alliance and we're not ACTUALLY at war, so let's behave like normal people and not go crazy... It might seem weird to add this warning, but it's happened in the past, believe me!

So here's what I'm interested in:  CAN THE ALLIANCE WIN THE WAR?

smuurf.... smurrrf.... *Thump*

 Dellissa frowns into the mirror of the Barbershop, watching her reflection with eyes full of criticism, noting the pale skin with a cross shaped scar over her right eyelid, her soft red lips almost open as if to say something, all framed by the blueness of her hair, that had become her trademark since the change way back in the day, that fated decision, her mind abuzz with many thoughts, when that prominent thought, from a teal haired goblin she happened to have come past the other day while in town, when she had an impulse moment to go there wearing her old training clothes and a blonde wig.

This is not a blog. This is not a flame war. Names will not be declared. Actions will be.

Haven, I myself am guilty of annoying, pissing folks off, getting myself on the ignore list of others (well known or otherwise), and more. But as I can recall, I have never broken the Terms of Service (nor will I do thus icly or oocly) as far as I can help it.

Some of you flat out cannot stand me. I can live with that. What I WILL not live with, are the following.

1. Double Standards. Join certain channels, and you will invariably find myself, if not others talking in a contentious tongue. You will find person A (myself as designated), with a sailor's mouth being reprimanded because I went 'too far' with said mouth. However, you will also find person B (someone else), not reprimanded for doing the exact same thing. This is Just an example, but this example happens more OFTEN than you think it does, particularly Horde side.

A multitude of refugees huddled on the stern of the Night Elven vessel… weaklings clambering for one final look at their Homeland before it disappeared on the horizon.  But not Bohemond Cromwell.

Walking toward the prow, he doffed his top hat to a passing elvish sailor as he made his way.  No, Bohemond was not one to live in the past.  From the day he was born, his eyes were always firmly focused on the future.  And what a glorious future it was shaping out to be for him.

While the weak and foolish might lament their “curse” as worgen, Bohemond reveled in it.  All the disabilities of age and accident he had accumulated over the years were gone.  His senses were heightened; his instincts were strong; his will and determination even more ironclad then before.

A moment of clarity as I sit by this river.

  Mother is a double word, one split into two just as I am split into many. I am split because my mothers are split, because my father is split and a part of both mothers.  Don’t understand? I doubt you do, and you will not unless you are within me, the others I am understand, even Mother and father do not understand, it is something so deep in the rivers of my veins that its surface will never coat my tongue.  

“Why aren't you married?”

The question was innocent enough. Why aren't you married? You're pretty, you're sexy, you're one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen naked... All attributes most would find desirable.

So why aren't you married?

Night draws on, dawn colouring the sky.

From her Knight's words, plans continue to build in her mind of magical weaves and tracings.

Would it work? Or would it fail?

Help from her 'sisters' would leave the fault in her, in her skill.

Trust of friends would power her wings, and a Teacher's imagined smile would make her stronger.

"Get ready...

I'm coming for you, Sidhara."

 If there was one thing in this world she would never give up, it would be hot water. When she'd lived in this particular apartment before joining the Dragoons she'd secretly had an enchanter work spells into the pipes to keep the flow continuously hot.

 A very old, battered and what was once a little black book, but now mostly faded back to a pale, tamer sort of gray book were found on a desk in a hidden location somewhere in Undercity, its contents exposed, pages filled with neat, formal handwriting torn out in places or blotted out, with one freshly inked entry. 

Dear Diary. There was a slient pause, as the next words filled a few lines after the title

It's been a while. There has been so many things happening, since the last entry, that I have had not managed to fill the pages with, and it would be far too much to fill the pages, and not only that, there are things I'd rather forget.

Someone once told me that everything has a price, the more I think of it the less I can recall who told me it.  I think perhaps it was one of my parents, perhaps when I stood between them and my brother, but none the less it was a lesson I had learned well enough.

    My body is practically a temple built to that phrase, or perhaps a warning of it.  Wrought with scars, tattoos, black skin .. eyes and riddled with madness, a warning was a better term then temple.

My return was eminent; it only took the right motivation to return to a place that no longer held what it used to. Master Blackmarrow was gone, and no matter how far I stretched my watchers, I can’t seem to find him, I imagine my fate will be the same someday. Evil people are never met with happy endings, we fade from existence or go out in something messy and devastating, perhaps he is still out there, and if he is I will find him, but for now I have other problems to deal with.

The sun beat down warmly on the rough surface of the massive rock in the middle of Booty Bay harbour. One could almost ignore the filthy little shantytown if one looked toward the horizon.

The sea, a deep blue-green turquoise, lapped like a loving pet at the edges of the rock, and the girl resting on it breathed deeply of the humid, heavy hot air. It was here that Ythfas had touched her tenderly. Almost a year and a half. Longer in truth. She lay silent, still. Her body bared to the tropical sun, and used to its heat, feeling the hammering oppression a Northerner might dread and closing her eyes to the caress of the sun of her home.

Her home. It had been, anyway. Once.

Sometimes, I never cease to amaze even myself... 

Not to long ago, Father told me that trust is an absurd thing.  It can neither be quantified, nor measured, nor predicted.  Rather, it comes down to a simple choice.  Do you take a chance to trust someone or not?

If this is true, this past week I have been doubly absurd... far more then I ever have been.

After everything that's been happening and everything that I've been through these past months, I felt like I had to get away… that damnable business with gobbos finally concluded, Stormwind set to tear itself apart again as The Troubles are ready to start anew, some new unexpected twists and turns.