20170823 155252

Kahasai

United States

Everything that I do does not define me. I define what I do.

Know me by my writing, here or on my blog:

https://hinterlandroving.wordpress.com/

It's about roving.

Message from Writer

Learn the rules of the game; then learn how to break them in such a beautiful way no one will care.

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked unflourished by Paperbird (United States)

5 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) reviewed:

My December, of Sand and Sun

PROMPT: My December Competition

I love the way you tell this. It's vague, with no precise where's, but you have beautiful descriptions that offer a wonderful images. It is lovely.

7 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) published:

Ruler of a World

FREE WRITING

Who are you to take me away? Who are you to bring me here?

Not an unreasonable question, I'm sure you must think, but the question was tiring. Every night and day I was asked that question. I don't answer, because it wouldn't give anyone any relief.

I watched the worn tip of my boot as it kicked a stone. My gaze followed the stone as it skittered down the dusty Road of Lost Souls. It was always dusty, just...
Seeking Peer Reviews

10 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked My Favorite Color is Adaline by gwyn (United States)

15 days ago

20170823 155252
1

Kahasai (United States) published:

Harvest Moon

PROMPT: Setting as Mood

I fled the dark of the house for the open air and nighttime sky.
    High above me, the harvest moon was bright and full. The fields and trees were lit in silver. The dew shone like tears, each individual drop radiating its own small light. The mountains to south were dark and shadowy, hiding details until the ridge top, where each tree was its own piece of pride in the beautiful light. The mountains to the north were...

Seeking Peer Reviews

15 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked The Blurry Street by Opal (New Zealand)

15 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) published:

Sky Fire

FREE WRITING

June 21st, 2008

Thunder and lightning lit night above the forested mountains. The mountains were the sort you'd see in a child's drawing: steep, irregular, with rivers weaving through the bottoms with as much life as a beating heart.
    That night the mountains had disappeared into darkness, lighting briefly to the flashes of lightning, echoing with the roars of thunder.
    Three young girls cheered and screamed to the sound. We loved storms; the rain, the mud, the high...
Seeking Peer Reviews

15 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked I wish by Writer? (United States)

15 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked Tripp&Co. (The Lightning Society blurb) by WhiltiernaWolfLord (United States)

15 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked Why Do I Write by forest_5 (United States)

15 days ago

Published Work

Ruler of a World

Who are you to take me away? Who are you to bring me here?

Not an unreasonable question, I'm sure you must think, but the question was tiring. Every night and day I was asked that question. I don't answer, because it wouldn't give anyone any relief.

I watched the worn tip of my boot as it kicked a stone. My gaze followed the stone as it skittered down the dusty Road of Lost Souls. It was always dusty, just as the air always smelled of fresh rain, though it never rained here. Other places, yes, but never on the Road of Lost Souls.

I went for another kick and missed. I looked up, staring around at the nighttime landscape. The distant mountains offered distinct shadows from the light of the moon, full and silver, one of my only companions. Rolling hills surrounded me. There wasn't much in the way of trees, just grass rippling like water in the wind....

Setting as Mood

Harvest Moon

I fled the dark of the house for the open air and nighttime sky.
    High above me, the harvest moon was bright and full. The fields and trees were lit in silver. The dew shone like tears, each individual drop radiating its own small light. The mountains to south were dark and shadowy, hiding details until the ridge top, where each tree was its own piece of pride in the beautiful light. The mountains to the north were lit by the moon, the old burn overgrown with brush and skeleton trees. The pair of mustangs in the field were a pair of liquid shadows, the moonlight so powerful I could almost see their eyes as they looked up at me.
    I stood in the middle of our driveway, gravel crunching under my feet. I shivered and hugged myself, trying to rid myself of the hollow pit echoing in my chest and stomach. Beside me my dog,...

Sky Fire

June 21st, 2008

Thunder and lightning lit night above the forested mountains. The mountains were the sort you'd see in a child's drawing: steep, irregular, with rivers weaving through the bottoms with as much life as a beating heart.
    That night the mountains had disappeared into darkness, lighting briefly to the flashes of lightning, echoing with the roars of thunder.
    Three young girls cheered and screamed to the sound. We loved storms; the rain, the mud, the high river, the wind, the electricity of lightning.
    I ran outside, not bothering to put on shoes or a raincoat, all the better to absorb the storm. My sisters weren't far behind me.
    The night was so dark I could barely see the great big oaks that surrounds my small house. Lightning flashed. We cheered the thunder gods. The dusty, dry trees lit up, and not just with light.
    It wasn't until the next morning that we...

Novel Writing Competition

Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

The ThirteenClan appeared almost human, but human they were not.
    Two of the ThirteenClan sat in a room that flickered with shadow, thrown about by lamplight. The girl was called Whisper, at least by other ThirteenClan. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed.
    The walls were shoved tight with shelves, books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had collected herself. She resisted staring at the three doors; one led to a bedroom, the second led to a room of documentaries, and the third led to her only escape route.
    The desk in front of her was stacked with papers, letters, and pens. A pair of purple shells rested in the corner. She gave them the barest of glances and instead focused on the Thirteenth who sat behind the desk.
    There was little resemblance between them. In fact, the only resemblance was their...

Novel Writing Competition

Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

The ThirteenClan appeared almost human, but human they were not.
    Two of the ThirteenClan sat in a room that flickered with shadow, thrown about by lamplight. The girl was called Whisper, at least by other ThirteenClan. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed.
    The walls were shoved tight with shelves, books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had collected herself. She avoided looking at the three doors; one led to a bedroom, the second led to a room of documentaries, and the third led to her only escape route.
    The desk in front of her was stacked with papers, letters, and pens. A pair of purple shells rested in the corner. She gave them the barest of glances and instead focused on the Thirteenth who sat behind the desk.
    There was little resemblance between them. In fact, the only resemblance between them...

The Cursed Kingdom: A Retelling of a Fairtytale

Prologue

Howls of pain ripped through the night, echoing through the castle and into the town below, even as the car sped through the town, nearly running over curbs in its haste to get away. The castle, bright and cheerful, faded away, the howls fading with it. People screamed and ran from the palace, and one by one, they disappeared without a trace of their existence.
    Even from behind, I could tell that Marco was scared. His knuckles were white against the black steering wheel of the car. He glanced behind him only to check on me and my sisters. "It's okay, girls," he said shakily. "We're almost out of here."
    No, we're not almost out of here. Not until we're out of the woods, which is still to come. Even I knew that, and I was a child.
    "Are we going home?" asked Kathy, though I know that she knew the answer. She sat in the middle, holding...

Novel Writing Competition

Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

"Whisper" was what the other ThirteenClan called her. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed. 
    Catt sat in a room flickering with the shadows thrown about by lamplight. The walls were shoved tight with shelves, books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had found herself. There were three doors in the room: one led to a bedroom, the second led to a room of documentaries, and the third led to her only escape route.
    The desk in front of her was stacked with papers, letters, and pens. A couple of purple shells rested on the corner. Catt gave them the barest of glances, instead focusing on the Thirteenth who sat behind the desk.
    There was little resemblance between them. In fact, the only resemblance between them was their high cheekbones, black fur, and high jawline.
    The Thirteenth would look human if not for certain cat-like...

Flash Fiction Competition

The Soldier's Story

There was earth all around him. In his hand he clutched a sword. What had happened?
    Drifts of memory came to him as he breathed dirt. People feared him. Hated him. He was a monster, wasn't he? Why was he a monster? Because he had killed some folk?
    No, because he had destroyed a kingdom. On his own. How?
    Through the pure force of his will and anger.
    In the end, the King of the Morning Star had killed him. He would forever be known as a monster, but he had destroyed the lie the King had created. He had died, but he also won.

Dialogue Dexterity

The Sunder of Ghosts

Veronica Welker silently sat in her chair, feet on table, one hand behind her head. With the other she fingered one of the loose buttons on her scrubs.
    Through the window she could see the other juvenile prisoners whispering to each other, watching her and the person who sat silently across from her. Their stares were reasonable. In the five, long years since she had been shoved into juvie, there had been only one visit not induced by law.
   The boy who say across from her also wore scrubs. Veronica didn't think it was because she was a high security prisoner. 
   They had been sitting there for nearly three minutes and the boy still had not said a word. He just stared at her, expression bland.
    Her chair creaked. From outside she could hear the chatter of inmates.
    Finally, she'd had enough. She set her feet down and stood. "Listen," she said,...

Novel Writing Competition

Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

Chapter 1

"Whisper" was what the other ThirteenClan called her. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed. 
    Catt sat in a room flickering with the shadows thrown about by lamplight. The walls were shoved tight with shelves, books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had found herself. There were three doors in the room: one led to a bedroom, the second led to a room of documentaries, and the third led to her only escape route.
    The desk in front of her was stacked with papers, letters, and pens. A couple of purple shells rested on the corner. Catt gave them the barest of glances, instead focusing on the Thirteenth who sat behind the desk.
    There was little resemblance between them. In fact, the only resemblance between them was their high cheekbones, black fur, and high jawline.
    The Thirteenth would look human if not for...

Novel Writing Competition

Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

Chapter 1

"Whisper" was what the other ThirteenClan called her. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed.
    Catt sat in a room flickering with the shadows thrown about by lamplight. The walls were shoved tight with shelves, books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had found herself. There were three doors in the room: one led to a bedroom, the second led to a room of documentaries, and the third led to her only escape route.
    The desk in front of her was stacked with papers, letters, and pens. A couple of purple shells rested on the corner. Catt gave them the barest of glances, instead focusing on the Thirteenth who sat behind the desk.
    There was little resemblance between them. In fact, the only resemblance between them was their high cheekbones, black fur, and high jawline.
    The Thirteenth would look human if not for...

Novel Writing Competition

Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

Prologue

Once in the world of Ashgan there was a Changer, a pair of lost Nethalvians, a master manipulator, a Cursed boy, an assassin, and an one-legged Thirteenth.
    This is the story of how they came to be.

Chapter 1

"Whisper" was what the other ThirteenClan called her. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed.
    Catt sat in a room flickering with the shadows thrown about by lamplight. The walls were packed with books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had found herself. There were three doors in the room: one led to a bedroom, the second led to documents of all the ThirteenClan  in the past four hundred years, and the third led to her only escape route.
    The desk in front of her was stacked with papers, letters, and pens. A couple of purple shells rested on the corner. Catt gave them...

Novel Writing Competition

Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

Prologue

Once in the world of Ashgan there was a Changer, a pair of lost Nethalvians, a master manipulator, a Cursed boy, an assassin, and an one-legged Thirteenth.
    This is the story of how they came to be.

Chapter 1

"Whisper" was what the other ThirteenClan called her. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed.
    Catt sat in a room flickering with the shadows thrown about by lamplight. The walls were packed with books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had found herself. There were three doors in the room: one led to a bedroom, the second led to documents of all the ThirteenClan  in the past four hundred years, and the third led to her only escape route.
    The desk in front of her was stacked with papers, letters, and pens. A couple of purple shells rested on the corner. Catt gave them...

The King of the Morning Star

The Morning Star with a mournful tear
Cries that I draw near,
Lands ravaged from men and their scars,
This all started because I wanted the head of the King of the Morning Star.

They leave their dead to the scavengers,
Creators of the chaos of ravagers,
War created by men left to scatter the earth,
I among it, fighting for all that I am worth.

Leave the dead to the vultures,
Allow me to destroy your cultures,
Run for I tell no lie,
I am coming, so go and hide.

You call me a monster of night,
A creature that hides from the light,
I will not deny you're wrong,
It is what makes me strong.

Humans are worthless to me because of what I am,
They always fight me and believe their King's sham,
I will destroy their King,
Because I can.

Those who run to not face my deadly wrath,
They who choose their own path,
They...

Flash Fiction Competition

The Soldier's Story

There was dirt all around him. Clutched in his hand was a sword. What had happened?
    Drifts of memory came to him as he breathed dirt. People feared him. Hated him. He was a monster, wasn't he? Why was he a monster? Because he had killed some folk?
    No, because he had destroyed a kingdom. On his own. How?
    Through the pure force of his will and anger.
    In the end, the King of the Morning Star had killed him. He would forever be known as a monster. But he had won. He had died, but he also won.

If I Spoke My Name: Trinsia (aka, Dream Amber)

If I spoke my name the land will be burned away,
The fire will scorch the dragon where he lays,
The nighttime will cease to be as the sun rules all,
The only thing to survive is the Fyrtha Oknol,
Who ride across the land as if it is a firy sea,
Making sure all water flees,
Making sure Ashgan is burnt to a crisp,
The smoke like a firy wil'o'whisp,
That will keep the spirits away,
Who'd want to stay?"

This is a dry land,
Made of fire and sand,
I may be known as Trinsia,
Known as Woyshu e'Tella:
Warrior of Lightning,
This is the song the bards are writing,
And as a commander
I order you to say this:
Dream Amber.

So now you know my name,
Now the world will burn to flame.
Congratulations!

Why I Write

Why I Write: A theory using a shed

There is a shed. It is full of guns and ammunition, all waiting to be used. Sometimes someone chooses a gun, takes out the bullets, and goes out shooting, having fun blowing up tannerite (an explosive) and just enjoying themselves.
    Some days they don't go shooting. In this time a fire starts. It is not the first time. For whatever reason, whenever the guns aren't used, a fire begins. It billows smoke, burning wood and grass. It crackles and makes its way into the shed. It creeps over the ground and races up walls until it reaches the ammunition.
    CRACK-BOOM! POP!
    Bullets begin flying everywhere, breaking through the wood of the shed and burying themselves into trees. Anyone standing near is lucky not to be grazed. Bullets shoot out in random directions, making it impossible for anyone to come near to stop the fire. It has to be allowed to burn itself out.

Using this analogy, if the...

This Is Justice So They Claim

Shadow rise, shadow fall,
Writhe up and hide all,
Black and red on cobblestone in sparkling light,
Bloody hell walks the night,
Cries and screams of desperate pain,
This is justice, so they claim.

Running, hiding,
Fighting, lying,
For all their efforts they can't escape,
The destinies forced upon them to become their fate,
Forever guilty on the trial of the Black Day,
This is justice, so they claim.

The Day for Discovering Truth is what it was,
No longer, just a distant memory barely a fuzz,
Now it's black and red on cobblestone,
Outcast and alone,
Blood on cobblestone in the sunny light,
It's a bloody hell they call just and right.

They used to have a family and a home,
Now they're forsaken and alone,
With powers no one understands,
With that hateful voice whispering, "Yes, you can,
You can use this power to make yourself right,
It just may take a bit of a fight."

A voice...

If I Spoke My Name: version 2

Speak my name and control power,
Power that will make you cower,
I'm what makes the spirits free,
This power is genetically me.

What can I do?
I can determine what will happen to you,
I can determine whether you'll live or die,
By your name I can determine whether you speak truth or lie.

Hold me here by the power of my name,
Tell me to go away by the power of the same,
You can't tell me what is wrong,
Save it for someone less strong.

If I Spoke My Name: version 1

If I spoke my name the world would tumble round,
Afraid to make a sound,
That doesn't make sense I know,
But listen close and I'll give you a show.

Watch close and heed me well,
Under the earth demons dwell,
They are listening so they may hear,
Hoping so they will understand all your fears.

Feel the shaking earth as they try to understand,
Fire, water, earth, air, and the human hand,
Speak my name and they will know,
The world's turnings and the things that grow.

Ruler of a World

If ever that Book of Dead Names grows too heavy, I’d be happy to share the weight.
    I snorted to myself as I walked the Road of Lost Souls to home. Not likely.
    That sentence was a fragment of an ancient conversation between myself and my friend, who was such the opposite of me we could be day and night.
    With each step I took, the Book of Dead Names felt heavier in my pocket, a weight that had been growing from the beginning of time. There certainly been times when I’d been tempted to share the load, but I’d always had a strict sense of duty and fate. It was not time. Not yet time to share it. I’d carry it until I was crushed, until I met my demise, and once again it would be my friend’s turn to carry the Book until time once again proved to be the ultimate master.
    In...

Kahasai's 45 Likes

unflourished by Paperbird

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I wish by Writer?

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17 Likes from Others

Mere Words

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Harvest Moon

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Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

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The Soldier's Story

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The Sunder of Ghosts

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Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

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Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

Liked by 1 person

The King of the Morning Star

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The King of the Morning Star

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Liked by 3 people

The Soldier's Story

Liked by 3 people

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If I Spoke My Name: version 2

Liked by 1 person

If I Spoke My Name: version 1

Liked by 1 person

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