Panties & Prologues

I dropped two more pounds this week. 

Work it, ya'll!

Woo-freaking-HOO!

Only a few more pounds before these panties start sliding their way down my fabulous derrier. Which, I might add, never seems to lose its shape. Does anyone else have that problem? I guess it's not really a problem, except when you're in between sizes and the skinny cow pulling your jeans off the rack can't seem to understand that just because you've got thunder thighs to fill the legs, does not mean your assets can pucker the back pockets. 
It's just frustrating...and even more irritating that she's only trying to help, so you really shouldn't bite her head off about your less-than-cooperative bunz.

Moi? 
Complaining about losing weight? 
YES! 

If I hadn't gotten so hefty to begin with, I wouldn't be in this ass-of-mine predicament.

Let this be a lesson to you, fellow chubsters - STICK TO YOUR NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS!
Come on, toots! 

You want to lose weight? 
Make a plan. Stick to the nutrition.  Don't deprive yourself, but don't give yourself a cookie for every 1 mile you walk at your leisure. You gotta risk it to get the biscuit, ya'll! 
[the risk here is a few bucketfuls of sweat, smaller jeans and the allure of {insert your biscuit} a certain little yellow polka-dot bikini]. 

Stop chasing that tail, too. Let someone chase yours!

Get fit, be happy and healthy. 
Remember how hard it was to run your chunky monkey, rocky-road loving bee-hind, up those hills and down that ravine...because you DO NOT WANT to be BACK here, ever AGAIN.

Capeesh?

::end rant:: & ::step off soapbox::


My treat for you today is more along the lines of mental stimulation. 
Holding true to my rezzie's [honestly friends, we're only 2 days in and shouldn't be breaking the oh-so-serious promises we made to ourselves only two nights ago. For SHAME.] I started working on my fiction novel. 

I have never shared this with anyone outside my immediate friend group, so this is exciting!

We've talked panties, now here's the prologue:

{Title, not set; Prologue}

“Dalyra! RUN. Damn. Run!” He’s screaming at me, this is beyond awful. I know I should listen, but my limbs are scrambling to get to him. Throwing punches and hurling broken men across the room. Marcello is fighting them with me, but this is anything but fair.

We were ambushed. Aural’s fiends, no doubt.

Ugh! There is no logical way out of this place. If we jump, we may never get back – not with Marc batter and weak.

I snap back into the fight. Break bones now, think later!

Move left!

 My instincts are pleading with me, this sucks! A hairy fist misses my chin by a fraction of an inch. Black dress shirts and dark jeans, everywhere. There’s something burning; the smoke, suffocating.

Something’s burning. Oh my God.

 There are too many of them, and I can’t access their minds. My elements are virtually useless against them as well.

We’re losing.

There’s more pain in the defeated voice, than I’m willing to express.

Bruises are starting to form on my knuckles, I’m sure one of them is broken. There was a definite sting that shocked my nocioreceptors into submission with that last blow.

I’m flailing around, attempting to do more damage with a tornado approach – hitting anything that comes near enough. We’re storming a path through the mêlée, endeavoring to get the hell out of here. The closer we are, the better chance we have.

            Almost there. I can practically touch him.

            “Fuck, Dali! Why haven’t you left?” Marcello is thundering his voice at me, while trying to duck away from a sucker-punch.

            Breathless, “How. Could. I. Leave. You?” Landing a jab with each word, then a cross-kick to my assailant’s chest. He goes down – hard. A lot of good that does, there’s another goon coming straight for me.

            “You need to get out! I can’t lose you, not again. Pl– !” Marcello’s plea is slammed shut with an uppercut, slamming his jaw shut. He staggered, but quickly regained equilibrium.  

            “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, sweetheart.” I scoff, but inwardly I’m praying that we can make it out of this.

Where is everyone?

            It’s like we’ve been fighting for hours and help is nowhere in sight. My strength is dwindling. I know I can’t keep this up.

There are only eight of them left. The others are either dead or incapacitated.

            I should have rested, when he asked me earlier. This is my fault.

            Mark is fighting three grizzly looking men and he lokos haggard.

Get. To. Marc.

The remaining five buttons are on me have concentrated around me. I’m shrouded by their tall, dark, immune-to-my-power bodies. I’m the target, that much I know. I’m pulling every defense move I know, skills I never thought I’d have to call on.

            Punch. Kick. Jump. Craaack! My jaw is out of commission. I can barely open it to scream.

Dislocated? Maybe. MEND, please -  heal!

Begging my super-human body to work with me, I continue throwing myself into the fray because I must save Marc. This is my fault. They want me, not him.

A warm, searing pain lashes me across the face and wraps around to the crown of my skull.  I’m flung across the room and through a window. Mark’s face is the last thing I see. His screams are drowned out by my failing senses.

I’m thinking, this can’t be happening.

Blackness. Night, maybe?

No, entrapment. 

Cold. Wet. Broken. I’m trapped in a darkness that has managed to engulf my entire being. I’m not alone, I can feel him near me. His breathing is shallow, thready and I can feel his pain.

How did I end up here?

Why didn’t I fight harder?

Can we be rescued, or do I have to claw our way out?

All these thoughts are flying through my mind, racing against time. Here I am, where? I do not know. My insides are twisting and I’m on the verge of panic. Marcello is dying, truly leaving my side in this world. My spirit, my soul, everything is slipping away. This mind-numbing situation is sucking me in.

I can’t think straight.

How can I survive without him? Will I even?

My head is on fire and the warm blood snaking its way down the left side of my face is all the physical evidence left on me from this disaster night. Marc’s not so lucky.

We’ve never truly died before. Reincarnation is sweet that way. We live, we die, repeat. But this…this isn’t something I can fix. The tears I’ve been holding back through the fight find their way to the surface and bubble up, rolling over the rim of my lower lids. I know I need to get out, but for now – I cry.

When it’s all gone, the helplessness and despair, I formulate a singular plan. Heart breaking, mind healing my wounds and I can’t wrap myself around the last few days. I’ve been kidnapped, beaten, broken and exploited – but, we’re together.  

I am going to murder the evil bastard who put us here.

[end of transmission]

Thanks for reading! :]