Sheesh, sometimes I wonder whether I should become a writer.

I don’t have much to talk about write now, get it, write?, but I will in a little while.

Thank you Kaelem, for your awesome blog on world building.

Here’s a link. http://kaelem.wordpress.com/category/writing/worldbuilding/

Lita awoke to the crying of a small child, probably around five, who had been awakened by her howl. Lita sighed and mentally barraged herself as she forced herself out of her warm bed, slipped into rabbit skin slippers, and searched for a candle. She pulled back her messy dreadlocks into a braid like thing and walked out of her room to calm the child down. She went down a spiraling staircase, walked down the hall, and stepped into the room of a small little boy named Clause.

Clause was an one of the children that normally ended up in Blue house, where all the unwanted children of the Nighters were kept. He was an unusual Nighter, because he, and he alone, could hear the voice of the Dusk that were the Nighters ancestors. He was told the curse’s,the possible futures, even what was happening around the Dusk.

“What have you seen now,Clause?” Lita said in her softest voice, partly because loud noises disturbed Clause and partly because she was tired.

“One of the Dusk’s souls has been forced out of its place and put in a human’s body.”

Lita was no longer asleep, her black eye’s wide and scared. “Are you sure of what you saw?”

“I can’t be sure, but the Dusk were angry, mostly angry because they’re powers won’t work against the man. His sword protects him. Against them at least, that is.”

“Who is the unluckly child?”

“No idea. But we must tell the owl. He’ll know what to do. The Owl and the Cat, for toghethor they’re more powerful then me.” Clause said, his already slightly high-pitched voice wavering slightly.

Lita nodded, and togethor the the girl who felt like his older sister and the boy without a childhood walked to vist the Owl and the Cat.

Tamora Pierce is one of the best writers I have ever seen.

Currently I am reading Tricksters Queen.

Okay, recently I talked to a friend of mine with whom I dicused my blog. When he looked at it for himself, finally, what does he say?

What a weird name. That’s what he says.

There are some days when I just hate the people around me. The people I call my friends. The government. Myself, although hating myself is really, really hard. Does anyone know that Scat can mean like, jazz singer? The jazz singing cat? That’s my blogs site name, okay? Anyone else want to poke fun at it?

Damn I can rant about anything. I didn’t know that? I thought I was just. You know, testy.

Well that’s all I’ve got. Anything else you want to know about, comment.

    Um, I’ve been lucky enough to be at the Green Festival. And it’s actuality cool. But there’s a problem.

There are less young kids here then investing in the stock markets. And I don’t think that’s good. I hope that we can survive. Because as the youth of this country, this is getting really really bad and if the youth don’t care then we’re all gonna… DIE!!!

Have a nice day. Signed Sarcasm.

Venice, Italy

On a hot July day in Italy, many people came to Lafayette’s resterante. With it’s famous entertainment, delicious food, and large, classic space, it was the perfect place to eat and chat, and a perfect place to eat and chat, making it a local hangout for both the young and the old.

It is also the place the GTDG often meets.

The GTDG, aka the Global Terrorist Defense Group, is actually a group full of adults and, well, kids, typically kids from the age of 10-18, at the age of which they are allowed to decide what class squad they want to join. Anyone who joins is handpicked at the age of 7 and trained at the base, known a Gale, the location of which can’t be disclosed. In any case, the current group of which these tales are about are veterans of their own special skills, be it hacking, torture, or fieldwork. Three of these people already knew each other.

They’re real names cannot be disclosed, but we will call them these names. They are, Henry, a military leader who rivals almost all heads of security anywhere. He is 29 and engaged to the secretary of the boss of the GTDG, who we will call HEAD. David, the emotionless, conscienceless man of eternal hatred. He kills with out even feeling any remorse. Fred, an 8 year old perverted drug addict, who is an amazing hacking genius who’s role-model is the HEAD. And Rafael, who’s obsession over money is only rivaled by his cunning mind and incredible torturing skills. He’s not even close to being a genius like Fred, but he understands emotions and puts them against his enemy’s, but his main friend is David. They were all trained in 7 forms of martial arts, know French, German, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Russian, and Swahili.

And they all met for a briefing from Henry, conveniently put in Lafayette’s resterante. A blond haired waiter named John came up to them and asked, in an falsely cherry voice, “what can I get you?”

“I’ll take a pizza, only cheese.” Rafael said.

“The diablo pizza for me.” David said, his left hand slyly reaching for the pistol in his left pant-leg.

“David!!” Henry chided, and David instantly, abeit reluctantly, clasped his hands on the table.

Henry nodded, then said “A nice salad for me.”

“I wha a-” Fred began.

“Nothing. He’s on a much needed diet.” Rafael said, poking Fred chubby little stomach.

Fred patted his stomach while everyone else laughed.

When Jane Isabele first brought me in, I think she thought I was normal. I remember very well, for my race has a great memory, that when I came to her door, she made sure that I was always warm, that I was never approached by that stupid dog, that none of the beast slayers that periodically came and killed creatures like me never found me. I truly think that she loved me.

That’s definitely not the case now.

You see, the minute I got bigger, much to big for her home, and I got stronger, and developed my powers, she seemed to get more and more aware of what she had done. And now she realizes that I’m not a cute, cuddly creature anymore.

Not that I ever said that Ligors were.