A Wizarding job

Finding a Job in the Wizarding World is much harder from No-Maj, but I do have a sense of what the path is and it's a mix of jobs. People take quizzes and when I do it's always a Professor, once a Headmaster. So this is a view of my life.

I had done a prologue of a fanfiction idea into exploring who I am in the world. I went to Ilvermorny and got sorted to Pukwudgie. The reason I cut the part short is because the rest is a normal life with studies. Until second year,

In my second year, I had a continuous development of this wand that I took? from Wandvault. The wand itself is a wand of Dogwood, Pisa bird antlers and strains of a plant called Josiah, hilt was of a boar tusk. In my second year, the wand showed me a past life as other alternatives. The past life was of an Auror which was me transforming into a bald eagle, technically a dinosaur.

Alternate was me at Hogwarts as a Gryffindor. One was book series. In my third year I took Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Divination is reasonable.

But the wand caused me to have precognitive dreams in my 5th year, after I used a patronus charm which saw three animals; bird, Pine Martin(Pottermore) and a Camel. Thee dreams were my future that I can't change. Once my Patronus, in gold, became a falcon. At 16, the wand broke upon using dark magic. The wand was broken in two, the stem was never seen again and could be used with other hilts by other users. The hilt, was mended to a new wand.

Upon my visit, a wand flew to my hands, the San wand that flew to me inn my first year only now it was meant to be. In the prologue, a wand burnt me, a wand of Jonkers. The burn tells of a time when it was mine. A second past life in America as a thunderbird. Jonkers showed me a permit. The permit was dated and from the old life. I had it tuned to my liking.

Wampus hair, 11", Redish Ceaser Wood with the bone of boar tusk.
I did graduate, thou poorly on Potions and exceptional on Transfiguration. Passable on the other two.

I did look into divination based careers and Seer want on the cards, it was falling off grid and I couldn't see others. I came up with my own idea of a Dreamcatcher, but it it was only an idea.
I was always into cryptids and superstition and so I found myself looking responding to Newt Scamanders textbook, to prove something.

There will always be unfounded beasts as there will always be undiscovered lands. Rolf and Luna did find some stuff and so have I. I can't find a copy unfortunately but, named "A Blind Newt". I than attended the position within a department in MACUSA, the Body for Protection of Magical Species.

Reasons in being of my interests and by now knowledge of Cryptids and furthermore a view in politics. I hated the segregation of no-maj/wizardkind and so Auror will be no exception. Animals however have guidelines, lives my nature unlike us uprights with freedom. They shouldn't be crossed and harmed. Protecting them from us. I did than become a professor thou of what?

Care of Magical Creatures? I do do some harm indeed to small critters, spiders. In fact there is yet another possibility and in mind always. Defense Against the Dark Arts.

I know cryptids and been around, and would teach all the kinds including Chupacrabas, Hidebehind, Sasquatch, Camp, sure the other could still be of value. Thunderbirds. From here I could have became a Headmaster.

But, I didn't want it. My time in school was over, maybe it was that I didn't want to stand over students. In the end, as an old man, I became the one thing that truly started it all.
Wandmaking.

In the prologue, I mention my grandpa would be a wandmaker. Maybe or maybe not opening a shop. That's what I did, wands of Jersey Devil bone and Devil Tree, Chupacabra fang was another. I had to be careful into using them, I couldn't kill one, and I was only opened when I was. Animals need to breed and live.
I live with a tawny owl named Horus, a Siamese cat named Meftet, a dog Gwarm. Even an Occamy. But this is all thought. My view.

Rukh Finnr part 2

Desolation Alley

           

Desolation Alley is where one witch and wizard gets supplies. In the early days it was the place to go for a drink, but than the area expanded. The New York Subway station is where it all is now. Right next to The Blind Pig, and even Ebbingdales is around the area.

The parents of Rukh Finnr drove him all the way from Detroit to New York along with his brothers and sister. The car of a black Chrysler parked near the entrance of the station and most even was only just awakening.

“Get up, the sun is up, the air is cold and also we are here.”

They looked out the windows and saw this new city in their life. They unbuckled and gathered their belongings like: the second brother took small bag of blankets and warm sandwiches. The other two were quite younger and in the hands of Darasa with her bag of diapers and milk and cookies. The father stood high over the roof of the car in his small brown and black plaid jacket, black ties and blue suit pant. He is a professor.

‘Come on,” Darasa had said in aguish

“Why not just leave most of the stuff, we’ll only be here for a moment.”

Darasa looked over to her husband, with small thought she agreed and left what was needed. Which was everything except a change of diapers, milk bottle, pacifier, and of course money. The father placed coins n the dispenser and they were off.

The family of six trotted down the steps of one entrance, a train subway for Non Magicals, but two things for magic–kind. As they entered, the location is molded to appear to look like a shopping mall for the hidden. Shops were built into the walls of the brown colored bricks and clouded by a roof to hide its blue skies. Kids were walking and standing in one fashion and the next. A few were wearing school robes of cranberry and blue. Brooms are hovering mid-air to try, and owls flew above the citizens as well. Some shops are small and others are big, and the big ones are enchanted to be the homes that the shopkeeper lives. There is one gap, a tunnel between stores that people walked through to another great section.

“What is on the list?” Rukhs brother had said

The list had its usual of books, robes, a wand and a choice of pets. “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” by Newt Scamander, “Chadwick’s Charms Volume 1” by Chadwick Boot, and “History of Magic in North America” by J.K Rowling to name a few. Choice of pets a Fox, a lizard, monkey or a meerkat and has of course a wand.  

“Should the wand be last?” Rukh has asked

“It doesn’t have to be, I mean yes it is the one most look forward to.” A girl had spoken who walked by with red hair and a dress.

“So I should maybe keep it last than, as it is the most fun.”

“That is what I was going to say. Books can be quite a downer.”

In fact, Rukh loves books, his mother tells stories from them as well as his father. The ones he reads are fantasies like “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs” or “Tales of Beedle the Bard”. So, no, not a downer, but a source of enlightenment.

“My name is Rukh Finnr.”

“Funny name that is, Rook Fin-er. Names Alice.”

She smiles at him with a longing smirk, a girl with a bag of books in hand, her hair curly, and wearing the school robes.

“I still haven’t gotten a wand yet. But, I’ll,” an idea popped “Ill go when you do.”

This had him frozen in place in quite a heartbeat as he shakingly nodded his head in yes.

“Excellent, Ill just be exploring.” She wonders off almost skipping with glee that had Rukh raise eyebrows

He did get books first, Newt Scamander from The Fireplace, a store that is molded to feel more like a home where one could hang around. The store had couches, lamps, a counter for beverages like Honeynut Pie and Chocolate Delight; the cups were enchanted to prevent spills on books. Books of course were flying high from massive shelves to massive shelves on the second floor. The stairs whipped down from a caramel colored balcony to behind the shopkeeper. Walls full of shelves as well, the couches are of two facing each other at the left center with a table and a small lamp in between. Four comfy red chairs on the right forming corners of a square, each with a table and a lamp. In the center half way from the right side is the counter where drinks are served and books are brought and rented.

“Hello, little one”

Rukh tired to reach that sound in the distance witch belonged to an eerie white male.

“Could I help you find something?”

Rukh slowly walked over and nodded frightenly.

“You are need of a book for school and that book is Newt Scamander himself.”

He walked off from the counter towards the left shelves on the ground level. The books were only 6 copies of green hardcover by the window and curtains.

 “Oh, I need more. More copies and more books.”

He held a copy firmly with two hands outwards in front of Rukh.

“We, there isn’t just me, hold books from dedicated authors and I chose this book because of what he showed us in the past. Even recommended it to the school.”

He smirked a little before walking back, a man with white frizzy hair and black mustache like Einstein. He wore clothes like his fathers jacket and even in the same colors only a black vest and shirt as well as a golden-chained monocle in his left jacket pocket on his breast. He pulled a lever and had the book bagged.

“That would be 1 and a half Dragots and 23 sprinks.”

It actually just occurred to him of his money, he did have some from his fathers but, for future times, he would need to get some. Dragots and Sprinks are the currency that American Wizards carry and manufactured through a section connecting the Wizarding Government and Steen National Bank; A bank holding Dragots, sprinks, and money of the non-magicals.

Rukh gives the man money and the man gives him the book.

“Come back to The Fireplace anytime, for my name is Mister Twain, Mark Twain.”

Rukh feels he might actually like him and the place so he nodded and left to get his other books. Charms book from Charmed and the rest. The book from Rowling is also across from a place called Real History. Rukh was on his way for the second fascinated thing, pets.

Rukh’s father was starting to have a flashback as he walked with Rukh to the pet store. “I had a monkey once, I had it back when I was in Africa.”

“A monkey?”

“Yes, just for a while thou. Not really a good pet.”

A big wooden sign up on top of the store is brown with two-frame work of colors surrounding it. The sign is rectangular for the most part but the two top corners are swirled, the colors of black over light green blended in. In the center of the wooden plaque are the words Madame Braedu’s Terrarium and the entrance looks like a saloon with overgrown plants and windows.  Inside, the floor is nailed together with wooden planks, crowded with overgrown plants hanging from pots and aquariums with fishes. Shelves of fish-food, bones, and crickets stood side by side with no space. Over the floor is a balcony with more narrow spaced crowds of animals. One could never really breath in this place, and a counter that’s so close to the door you’re already out of the shop with what you need.

As listed, Lizards lay on shelves, Monkeys climbed the ladders to the balcony, Meerkats peeked through holes in the walls and little foxes walking about the store. There are other animals like piranhas, grasshoppers and quails. A woman, Rukh never noticed stood near the counter wearing a colorful quilted robe of green, purple, and yellow circles. Bracelets on her wrists and a shape-shifting ear ring. On her right shoulder stood a glittery blue peregrine bird with brown eyes. It was looking right into the eyes of Rukh.

“Ill just stay outside”

Rukh’s father barely walked in before leaving him. The woman looked at him as she fed her bird. She looks at him with wing shaped golden glasses that had a chain attached.

“And so you also need a pet.” The woman speaks with an almost rude manner. Rukh had nodded with the spoken word of “yes”.

The woman started to walk out of her spot towards Rukh.

“Names Braedu, shopkeeper here. Plenty to choose from, but few listed. Any idea of what it might be?”

She bends over tilting her head sideways so one eye is seen, almost observing or identifying. Her bird chirped at him as it fluttered the wings and he could only stare at it.

“My dad said,” but was broken off when Braedu interrupted.

“No! It is up to you. Your father’s time with Abel is his identity. Doesn’t mean yours the same.”

Abel the monkey. “Maybe the fox?”

“The fox is a trickster, if one is a trickster it will guide them.” A snake slithers over her arm and coils itself as she pets it. At that moment, a pot blew steam and a noise is heard of whistles. It was a potion set; she was brewing in the back and in a way awakened her. She placed a fox of white stripes in a handler. Paid for with 2 Dragots and he walked off. The woman is left alone eying the door and feeding her bird. The snake slithers up beneath her rolled up hat.

“A wand is now needed, the final and biggest part.”

Rukh sees a very old shack like store. Four cemented stairs going up to a stone archway of grey/white marble. On top of the arch is a cornered roof where two stone columns stood under Wandvault. In fact, the store is quite slanted, drooping. Rukh opened the doors and stepped on a red carpet depicting a golden circle with a wand through it in hand. There is not a single desk however, in fact it has more space than what the exterior suggests. Small white boxes flying around from one shelf to another like the books in the bookstore, the wands are trying to reorganize themselves. Rukh walks towards the back of the store where lies a vanilla colored wall, a backdoor, and another door right in the center and visible from the main entrance. A man walks from the backdoor of white hair but, thin. He held a box that was of black color and gold lines.

“Don’t mind me, in fact I am not here. I was trying to place this item in to where it is to be.”

The man places the box on shelf and as he walked away the box flew to another shelf.

“Hmm.”

Another man of milk skin with a feather behind his ear and a small stick walked with chanting lips up the stairs. He came from nowhere, two others are heard, two women on the top floor talking to each other. It seems they are pretending no ones here.

“Excuse me but,” A wand flew towards him, almost right into his eyes. Rukh stood there with no knowledge of what to do. He grabbed it and it blistered him, red lines were made.

The man with the feathered head sighed, the others also made noises. Noises also came from the backdoor. Rukh heard it and walked towards it…

“NO! Never ever go in there. Its forbidden and I will not have you cause any troubles.” A woman screamed from the balcony. The noise however got louder and louder and the door started to seemingly breath. He was lured into it and so he went to the door and the four was quite. Rukh placed his hand upon the breathing door, and than silence. All he heard was the heart of the store. He placed his ear on the door and the beat stopped, the door opened.

The room was dark, sounds were heard, the room was hard to describe but one stood out. A grey box on top of a pillow and at that moment the box opened and the wand flew out towards him. Rukh dodged it and flipped in the air till it stopped. It was hovering over the floor: the wood was grey and old; it had a hilt of bone with a fat stem and round top. Rukh reached for it, it felt like the wand was pulling him in. He grabbed the wand and he felt himself getting pulled, like a vacuum. He was breathing hard and than it stopped. Panicking, he fled the store through the back, others unnoticed.

Rukh Finnr part 1

The Early Chapter

Some time in the late 1800s, near civil war, a young wizard traveled to the states across sea. His name was Armada Finnr. Armada was a young wizard who went to a school in Scandinavia, up north in the colds. Armada had some help once and they gave him a ship to sail to America where he settles in New York for a moment.

            The city was busy; America was scarred because of a war that might break out. The war would be triggered from an argument of civil rights among the goblins and house elves of the world. America might only be considering the offer, as they are slaves and untrusted. Armada wears what he usually does; in vests, and cheap pants and shirts. He hadn’t any money, and was planning something of a business. He took an apartment room where he settles in and an owl came by. The owl had two things attached; The New York Ghost, a wizarding newspaper in the city, was talking of a wizarding war against Grindelwald. A war that might happen; a non-magical named Abraham Lincoln (Unausden-zauber or Unimaginable Magic) actually spoke about it. If he really was one anyway.

            The other was a wand permit, he had ordered one a week ago, and well he had help. His wand was from Gregorovich.

            At a time, he opened a bar in Detroit; “Kerbold Gambrinus”, He was given a house-elf. The elf can transform into inanimate objects and children. He cant be treated unfairly either or he’ll bring bad luck. One most likely encounters him as a candle or a boy. People sit and drink beer, and read The Detroit Luten (named after a red demon in a river called “Rouge”. Really that’s all that’s known of him, he had a wife who gave birth to a son, however his bar would disappear, taken down from existence.

            His son, Farren, would also gain the magical traits of his father and his mother. He would be born and heading to Ilvermorny in his 11^th year. Being sorted into a warrior’s home. Farren had an adventurous life indeed, all 7 years. He played for Ilvermorny’s Quidditch team and had loads of followers and chasers, even sold newspapers for a time (pretty much making sure every owl had a paper). When he first came across the wands, two that chose him was from Johanne Jonkers and Thiago Quintana. The wand of The White River Monster is what he finally went with. It’s the wand he that he had all years and even during the war, the First World War of the No-Majs.

            Farren would marry someone from a lesser known; unauthorized magical school in Detroit and two children was born.

            The two being: one non-magical daughter and one magical son. Farren couldn’t understand until one day his son found out about Onell-a Viking Unausden-zauber. Westbourne, Farren’s son, attended Ilvermorny under the house of the soul. His wand stood out as being the one his father would have had, Jonkers. He would graduate with exceptionals in Potions. He would become a professor for Potions before becoming a Healer. Ferren, currently, makes unsold wands in his home where deer surrounds him and his son, married to a witch from Africa, now has four kids, all of which attended Ilvermorny.

                                                            Days of Yore

            Westbourne actually married a witch who was a student at Uagadou (wagadoo). Her name is Darasa. Darasa actually couldn’t perform hand magic well and was therefore given a wand, a wand that would show her the ways of magic. For a moment, they changed their last name to Easa.

            The first born, Orlando, Florida, is named Rukh. Others that followed were two brothers and a sister.

Silent Endeavors

           

Lets go a bit back as this part should be told with thought. In 1980, a boy was born into the world, a boy of two magical people. Harry Potter was the infant son of one James Potter and one Lilly Potter. He would grow up one day and attend the school of his parents, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, unknown to them, they have been marked by a dark wizard named Lord Voldemort. James Potters life was taken away from him, but Lilly, a heart of pure providential, saved the life of their son. A mother who was never meant to be the target due to her blood and so Harry lived and lived with his other family The Dursleys.

In 1991, in November, Harry flew a broom in his first ever Quidditch game. In America, in a hospital of No-Majs, Rukh was born. Only, he was born with a health defect. His parents tried to do something to save him and a group of healers performed healing magic with plants. A green vapor rose in the air on top of the boy and he took it in as a breath of air. He was healed. Andin a week, her performed his first magic by hand.

The magic did have an affect on him, for in 1997, a time where magicals were in crisis over the news of Voldemorts soon to be arrival in America, when he was 6 years old, he found out of his hearing loss. Witches and Wizards knew healing spells of course, but could not heal people from the diseases and sickness from within the wizarding world. Rukh Finnr was forever Hard-of-Hearing. The same year, Gringotts Bank was broken in by two wizards and one witch. In 1998, none other than Harry himself killed Voldemort in battle. American witches and wizards celebrated this day and the next at homes, The Blind Pig, amongst families, with Gillywater and sweets. And in 2001, after his sibling’s birth, he entered his first game of Quidditch and seen The Triwizard Tournament.

The Eleventh Year

Mind thou, Rukh had been born late, so problems arise of his attendance. Different from his father being near the first day, or his young sister and brother of early year. November 21, was a late one, in early 2002, he got a letter from Durmstrang.

“THE OWLS ARE HERE”, Rukh screamed

That’s right, he got mail. Rukh shuffled through the mail and he thought one came from MACUSA. He remembered the day his mother got a letter from the African wizarding Government of Burkinabe. The letter actually screamed at his parents.

Only, it was a letter from Durmstrang.  His grandfather went there when he was young, opened a bar in Detroit that shut down. Rukhs father, Westbourne, came down the stairs for the mail. He saw the letter from the school and cheered, thou as his mother, both had the problem that it was far. In fact, this was the problem with most of the letters.

He was almost 11 this year, by this time, near Halloween, on his brothers birthday, he had gotten four letters. The first actually wasn’t really a letter and he had it since infancy. A coin under his pillow, from Dream Messengers, for his attendance to Uagadou. Unfortunately, they left for America. Yet, it caused a chain of events. He not only got the given letters, but also a letter from Beaubaxton for unknown reasons.

“I can’t go to these, there so far, the stories of Hogwarts sounds amazing”

“Lucky you thou”, said his brother

He heard a bark and saw a wolf lingering in front of the house with a satchel, when he got outside a white owl with brown wings was there instead. The letter came two weeks before his birthday and he grabbed it from its beak. The letter had:

Rukh Finnr

Apartment of Finnr

Detroit, Michigan

He was trailing off when he saw a flower with four animals being a cat, some creature, a snake and a bird. He opened the letter and sparks flew off it, the paper slid out and he opened it to read it.

ILVERMORNY SCHOOL OF

WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Agilbert Fontaine

He read some info on him like Chief yata and other stuff. Rukh was trying to skim through it, and he begun reading at:

Dear Rukh Finnr,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at the American school Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on November 18. We await your owl by no later than November 8.

Yours truly,

Agilbert Fontaine

“DAD, MOM, A LETTER CAME FROM A SCHOOL FOR ME”

“What letter?” his mother, Darasa spoke

Rukh gave it to her and she widened her eyes at the letters name. She screamed at her husband and he looked at it.

“The school I was at when I attended at age 11. School actually began on September 1^st thou.

His father was reading it and came across the dates.

“Well it’s Friday, I guess we need to pick up the stuff tomorrow. Heading to a place down south.”

“Where?”

His mother than spoke to Rukh at the same time as his dad, “Inundate”.

 The mother says than “But it’s not, it’s under construction.”

“So we’ll go to New York where there is that store for all our witching needs.”

“Ebbingdales, magic on every floor”

Shotgun: One Shell

                                                                 The Rode
"Rider, Rider, Rider, Rider..."
The Passenger, he stood on the hood of an old grey car as he made some kind of speech about how we, fans of the zombie genre, have been waiting for this moment when the world faced some kind of zombie apocalypse. People ran around the city and took televisions and shit, only people never imagined themselves to run. They imagined themselves to fight and have a hell of a time blasting corpses away.

There is no "Rider", it's just a synonym for his archetype title "The Passenger", the leader and "born hero". I am not him thou, I am a side-kick, a minor character in his life, Shotgun. Passenger and Shotgun, shooting up the place. I am someone who doesn't get noticed, and it isn't because I am hiding my face under a giant green hood of a winter raincoat or that my eyes are hidden behind black lenses of sunglasses. I am simply, my mind laughs now as I do not know what to say. Even the idea on how I am speaking in first person is a laugh. My identity is slowly revealing anew.

"Yo, Buddy"
Buddy? I look at my supposed "Buddy" and think how he could be a friend. I mean, I supposedly knew him for a long time as this is the end of one journey, I look above at a helicopter, and the beginning. What am I doing here? Where are we going and what's happening now?

"Move"
I look out to see a horde of corpses as they walked, limped, and even ran towards us. I reached for my green and grey backpack and swung it over my back, a shotgun in its place. I ran to a school bus, it was yellow, black lines, red splashes and gates on the windows. In a single file line, one by one got on it. There were two busses and even a motorcycle, the cycle was Passengers, who lead the busses on the road. I took the bus and sat in the back, we were safe, for now. In the next stop we would get items to put an end to the fleeing corpses. Our only fear, were the people in those Helies as they would shoot anyone on sight.

"21 64 Movie Zone"
Passenger spoke into a secure telecom to note our destination. I took off my backpack and shuffled through it and when I did I found a journal that I don't remember having, I don't think I even looked into it before. The journal has writings; dates, diaries, notes, poetry even. I found a pencil and with a single wonder I wrote a line and found my handwriting to be identical to the journals. The journal has a page that says "This Belongs to..." and thats it, not a single brand of name in initials or other. I have been writing in it since a date that was blurred out.

"Was I a writer?"
Someone heard me and asked "What did you say?" or maybe just "What?" but, it was aiming at me and I could only nod towards saying nothing. I saw the big sign, "Nighty Nite Movies" letters of "Night" was removed and added by survivors or dim-headed loons, I don't know. The theater was nevertheless our safe place, movies that played were Boris Karloffs "The Mummy", Jerry Jeromes "Ornament Jingles" and "Zootopia".

We parked up on the on the parking lot that was boarded by electronic fences and barrels. The lights twinkled as it began to die out. "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". I spoke through a one way walkie talkie of a black man named Fred. He was the electrician and programmer of the group and even a guard of sorts. Fred turned the lamp lights off which attracted visitors of the norm. The corpses began to walk towards the fence, I found it odd that lights don't attract them but darkness has its way. Maybe there not the normal corpses. The door opens as the people pour in, I took a injured female by the arms and I lifted her up a bit to walk to what I assume is her family, but I guess we all are thou. We always have been since, well, I am not so sure. It's just kind of happened.

"All in" I talked it in and the doors began to close for the night. The night came fast. It was a movie theater, so all we had was theaters and hallways and even the big popcorn center. People slept where they can and ate less. I slept in Theater 6, upstairs in the film room. Theater 6 was showing a film of "Day Droughts" a rom-com in an endless storm of rain, however it ends in a tragic note as floods starts to come in the picture.

Other people were Cell-Phone Jimmy, Sarah Pinkleton and Amy Sawrow.

Jimmy was always on his phone, never goes anywhere unless its 100 percent and some other stuff. Sarah, well Sarah I don't know much about except for her love of Pickles. And than there is Amy, a pretty thing, short red/blonde hair, maybe a waitress, sometimes we call her Trish for whatever reason and if, and a big if, you observe her you will notice a little something extra about her.

The three are minor and side-kicks like me but, more of a major role than myself. All four of us and Passenger hangs out in the lounge to communicate about plans or just to hang. I am the quite one.

A Morning Meeting

I'm sitting down in a room full of people surrounding me in a circle like some AA meeting. A red carpet below us, posters of the Writers Alternicate club on every wall, or at least I think it is. It's morning, I hardly had a descent sip of my black coffee this morning, just steaming in my hand. I coughed to be dramatic as I stand up.

"So I guess it's my turn."

A Writers Introduction

The leader lends a hand to me as if to say "Go ahead". 

"How would I call you? Any preference?"

I scratch my neck and ears.

"Not really. I have a name and everyone uses it. More known name. Ummmmm....I don't know. Perhaps Thomas Greer would do."

I make a face that shows that it doesn't really concern me. The person speaks again "well ok, how 'bout where you come from? Or and Language."

Clearly they want to know me. My name, my place would surly give hints.

"I'm in the usual location," tried to be smart, "The States," well a smart-ass anyway. "Speak English."

"Age!? Area of Study? Work?"

Are you fucking kidding? I relax my mind, taking deep breaths.

"I'm in my 20s, I go to school so, thou, a writer is my only path thou, not sure how to," I make a gesture with my hand going straight out, "go down that trail. And no, no job."

I decided to go with some kind of flow.

"How did you begin writing?"

"Well," not needed in this statement but whatever, "it started back in middle school. Spelling Bee.", moved my hands around like Jazz Hands for effect. "We had to do activities to know how to spell like a pyramid." I made a two-sided pyramid with my hands. "But, the story, there were no assigned activities of writing so I asked. Made a fuss with the students, but it was only for me. The stories were plagiarized, I actually did not write, uhhhhh, originality till high school. Theater and "Myth and Legends" class. Wrote poetry. I seem to write those more. But I have a talent for having ideas for stories every second of every day."

Talent? I sound ridiculous.

"And What did you...I should say what type you find yourself writing now?"

"I write whatever I write. Superheroes, real issues but fictionalized. I don't know. I mean I do." I feel like Michael Madsen in Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs. Fucking Mr. Blonde aka Vic Vega.

"And why are you here?"

I want to sit down all of a sudden. Why aren't we done with this interrogation?

"Well, I saw "Writers" in the name and decided to drop in. See whats up?," show my coffee in my cup, "have a cup of fresh coffee from a confused machine back at home."

"Okay, Okay. Anything else you would like to share?"

As I turn to sit on my chair, an idea sparked.

"Sure, how 'bout a moment from Alan Wake?:

Band of Four

Hi, me again, for those of you who don't know, names Samiyah.
So, I played sports, even participated in track, basketball tournaments and baseball. Go Lions. I also play games and read and listen to music. All this you know.

However, I do have a job, well, a occupation. I'm a singer, I'd say musician, but it's not just me as there are others. Comprised of five members. I'm the only girl in the group. I sing and play guitar and occasionally the violin. I always thought of names but than it was an idea, A evolution really.

"Joyland" was one and it was my first band, same members. There was a story behind them, entertainers from a carnival of another realm that came to the surface as fire streaked through the lands. A carousal and a roller coaster in the back above was our logo/mascot. It was temporarily, the lasting, we had done one album of the name. 13 songs is all it had. We didn't depart, obviously, maybe it was intended to be a single brand album.

I feel I wrote all this before.

"The Lasting" was our next project for a band that told the next chapter of "Joyland". As you can guess it was to be a long lasting band. The entertainers from another realm was to be on Earth for a long time. However, it lasted for two albums and one member would end up leaving and returning later. The two albums each has 12 songs, none had the band name so, know one would know who did them. The first album was called "Diamond Skulls" about the evolution and phase of men's mind or something. The cover was 12 crystal skulls surrounding a red/yellow/purple flower group in the center. Background was a single color of black. The second album was called "Months after Dark", that's all I can really say. The 12 months was the theme thou. Maybe it was the Mayan calander as a icon, I don't know.

Ok, so three albums in, two more to go, yes 2, one is a semi-successor to "The Lasting" and one is the current phase.

The band now took a semi-different turn while keeping 12 as a theme. This time a new member came in and this is his only time. I took the name Beatrice as my stage name as I never had one. I was always just a singer and all. Beatrice was from "Dante's Inferno", and the new album was a prequel to the first album, by "Joyland", a origin. We, entertainers, came from a realm of 12 planets. The album was called "Inferno Space". We took the idea of naming the band "Beatrice", I guess it was to announce my name. We had that one album and we get noticed by an ex-member who came back to take the newbies place, I did say it was temporarily.

But he came back, XD. I'll get to him. Hold on.

The newest band had the original members and we need a refresh. I came up with "Headache", but I didn't want to head bang. We needed a name that shows a resurrection, like a rise from the dead. So I chose "Baby New Year" and one chose to have Father Time as a mascot. This is the first time we had a icon face. Father Time was a skeleton who wore a steampunk outfit; black gloves, a top hat with a clock and chains. He was bear chested, I say was but its current. Father Time IS the mascot for the current "Baby New Year".

Members include(officially): James and Jack(brothers and piano guitar players), Eddie Thomas(the mascot face and guitarist), "Pack-Man"(drummer) and me, Samiyah, AKA "Beatrice"(singer and violinist).

Baby New Years' first album was member titled "Eddie Thomas".

Trans-Reflection: The Body of Two

In one world, there is a boy, 24, male, dark brown hair, and average short in height. In another, there is a girl, 24, female, dark brown hair, average short in height. The male has brown eyes, the gitl has blue. One has no job, lives with his family and not all that out-going. A complete opposite to the girl who is athletic, and slightly punk, both, however are bookworms, nerds. The male is hearing impaired and the female has glasses. Ones name is Ali, the other is Samiyah. Both are one individual being.

"I am on the computer", Ali screams out to his mother

This is Ali, sitting down on a vanilla colored couch, typing away the invisible ink as his fingers clicks each letter one by one in his pajamas. His mother, "Mama", is sitting on the table chair by her sister who is cooking. Ali is in a Superman bottom and  a top of Mario Mario of those "Super Mario" games of Nintendo Co. He is across from the bathroom where a mirror is lifted upon the wall with golden framework on top of swirls and illusions of grandeur.

Mirrors are a one way looking visual of oneself. Looking at it, one sees him or herself in appearance and attitude. if a mirror is behind the looker, than a row of that person appears. Reflections or copies, world after world. The mirror is a door to another world between one and another. Ali looks at the door of the bathroom and pictures himself in front of that window. What he is on the other side.

Samiyah is laying down on her bed, back on her pillows, one leg bent upwards moving her head up and down to music. She is wearing skinny jeans, white socks, a jersey of her favorite baseball team The Lions. Headphones are on her ears blasting rock n' roll. Aaru is her cousin; thin, red hair, acting cool most of the time when he is not.

"...Kings of Amerrrrica", so sings Samiyah

Samiyah has a mirror to, a mirror she only could perceive as anything but. She hardly know what awaits on the other side as she never really thinks it. Yes she spends time reading fantasy but, doesnt look at it like Ali does and goes into it as if it was actually real. Worlds in fantasy are indeed real, the fantasy is just the surface.

"The mirror of normalcy", both say together