[Alona] Scraps Sewn with Yarn

[Alona Halloran]

I figured that instead of making a third introduction thread, I may as well make a scrapbook instead! (Goodness, is this really my second time jumping back into Miz?) Statistics: Nicknames: Snipe, Cas Birthday: May 1993 Location: Central Florida Occupation: Community College student Likes Knitting, Tea, Pizza, Japanese culture, 90s CRPGs, Comics, Tabletop games, Browser-based pet raising games, Overloading myself with hobbies and projects until I can ignore the oncoming depressive episode, Dislikes Anything on social media that doesn't involve cute animals or memes, Snakes, the smell of dirty dishes, People who make it their mission to 'fix' shy people, Current PCs Alona, Zeltivan carpenter and wide-eyed idealist with an interest in music. I first joined Mizahar as a 20-year-old who thought she could write a lot better than she actually could. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my time but I didn't nearly have the patience for it at the time, so I left. Now, I feel Mizahar is what I need, as someone who wants to write but finds motivation and drive difficult to wrangle all on my own. I'll admit, I'm still a little intimidated, as embarrassing as it is to say, but I welcome the challenge now. Mostly, I want to use this scrapbook to share a few of my hobbies, (vent, in limited numbers) but also to talk about Miz. I want to use my time here to truly improve my writing, and I figured the best way to do so was to return here. As such, I feel I should emphasize that I encourage Constructive Critisim! I'm here to learn and grow, so I really need it. I'd also like to make friends, so feel free to use this as a social media wall to throw questions, notes, and cool stuff my way. Some notes that I should get out of the way: as I mentioned above, I'm a student. I'm gifted with a lot more free time then back when I had a job, but it is limited depending on what I need to do for my classes. (As if I'd be the type to do stuff on Miz while I have, say, a test to study for! [/sarcasm]) I may not be able to get to my threads as promptly as I'd like to, so I hope you forgive me for that. I'm keeping my load light as of Winter 517, so hopefully that won't be an issue, though! Also, if you want to contact me but can't PM or want a fast answer, I have the Discord mobile app and I check it multiples times a day. Normally, I'd list my username but I keep fairly active on the Miz server under the name of my active PC (Alona as of writing this) so I'm not hard to find. Still, if you can't find it that way, I can always send it via PM. As for what hobbies I'm likely to post about... I knit, I can crochet, I do beadwork, and I've recently fallen into the hole that is plastic model kits of anime robots. Here's an image of my most recent build, before I got his stand.

[Alona Halloran]

Writing Prompts Dump So, I should preface this with an explanation. I'm a member of my college's creative writing club, and most of our meetings revolve around writing games. I figured that Miz would be the best place to talk about them and put my responses down for posterity. Cats & Chocolate This is actually a card game that the club's advisor bought while visiting Japan, but since it's written in (bad) English, it's pretty useful for us. The main prompt is that you're stuck in a haunted mansion (or other places, depending on what expansion sets you may have. We only had one, it adds business themes to the mix.) and you're given cards that describe your situation. Your goal is to write a story that, hopefully, describes how you escape. Here is my first round attempt. It wasn't finished, and I really have no idea where I was going with it. Obviously, I didn't win. Our cards for the first round were: You are in the attic. You feel dreadfully homesick and apathetic. You have... a coat, a fountain pen, and a can of oil. My Attempt : Normally, locking someone in a room can be a funny joke, a brief laugh... This time, however, not so much. Aldric sighed, fingering the gold buttons of his coat as he thought through his situation. The attic was small, but not quite suffocating, but once the summer morning ended, it wasn't going to stay that way. The dust burned at his nose and eyes, but he didn't think about it much. His eyes were unfocused, lazily gazing at the filigree of his coat instead. Why bother thinking at all, really? This sort of attitude was what left him in the attic, to begin with, his maid (a title used only in name. She was more of a babysitter for the man, more than anything else.) had been there for him through thick and thin for most of his undead life, watching him ever since he had left his home decades ago. But now, having grown tired of his unending melancholy, gave him an ultimatum. Either grow past your ennui or fester alone. His hand fell into his pocket, causing him to uncharacteristically jolt with energy as something sharp met the flesh of his finger. He pulled back and peered in, finding a lone fountain pen, marbled and gold, at the bottom of the pocket. He picked it up, lips pursed. The urge to write pushed back against his stoic emotions, boredom fighting against apathy. The second round was a group writing attempt. I don't have the story written down since we talked about it in person, but I'll put the gist of our story instead. Spoilers: We won! Our cards: A demon emerges from a magic circle on the floor. you have... a police uniform, an umbrella, and a business card. Our Attempt : We are a member of the demon police, here on this rainy day to investigate an illegal summoning. We show our business card, and tell them they did not complete the proper paperwork to reserve today, then arrest them. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Word Soup This is a much simpler exercise. We threw ten words onto the board and were tasked with making a story using at least eight of them within a time limit. Round One: Jacking, hairy, toothless, loud, money, dancing, trombone, high, pool, bus My Attempt : I groan and press my head on the metal railing of the bus seat. I felt terrible, simply put. Less simply put, my hangover felt as though I had an annoying baby brother on my shoulders, screaming into a trombone, directly into the back of my head. Damn Sharon and her double shot glasses, she should have warned me. All of this would have been bearable. Still terrible, but at least not 'getting eaten alive by a hairy monster' terrible, if it weren't for the fact that her 'dancing night' had to be the night before I went back to my pool cleaning job. Double dammit. I didn't want to go, not in this condition, but I needed the money. Since my car got jacked last winter, I've taken almost every job offer I can get to save up for the repairs, but this one may be just a little too much for me. Not only were my coworkers rambunctious, they were also potheads. Have you ever spent eight hours out in the California sun with loud AND high jackasses? ...Maybe I should start donating blood. Maybe teeth, even. Do they accept teeth donations? I think I could handle being toothless, it doesn't sound that bad... I close my eyes and pray to God that I get through today. Just let me survive, at least. Round Two: Smelled, Uvula, Balls, Goat, Orange, Human, Fat, Night, Electric, Hammer My Attempt : Oh God, it -smelled-. She couldn't really think anything else beyond that. It was bad enough to make her uvula convulse in a gag reflex. The thought consumed her mind, sort of like how the goat-cheese and sweat-scented air consumed her nose. She was already starting to regret going to the gym, and she was only in the doorway! Once she got her head on straight, she looked around. The sports area was up front, the basketball court is the centerpiece... and quite messy, too. It was a wonder she didn't stumble over any of the orange balls. All she wanted was lose a little fat on the electric treadmill, surely finding that wouldn't be that hard! The woman sighed and sloughed through the court. Maybe coming at night was the mistake, there was hardly anyone here! Not staff or patrons... but it was unlocked, so that meant she could come in, right? It's not as though she took a bloody hammer to the windows to get in, this was legal! ...it was, right? She looked over her shoulder at the dark windowfront behind her, lips between her teeth. ...And that's about it, for now. Our first meeting involved the card game Werewolf (a game similar to Town of Salem or Mafia) but since that was more of an icebreaker than a proper writing exercise, I didn't really think to write any of it.