THE LIFE AND DEATH OF LILLIAN NICOLE TAYLOR

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF LILLIAN ██████ ██████  
(Or Lilly, depending if you were awesome or not.)

BY NOAH BERTILSON

LILLY

To many, the name would probably be spelt with one L. Or two, depending if you only count adjacents or not. For these select few, Lilly would most likely perceive your faulty use of Ls and chuck a toad at you. Regardless, this is her story.

ALIVE

Lilly was born somewhere or other in the world, and probably had sushi by her third minute of life. Her parents were not convicted of negligent babyslaughter because she failed to die for nearly seventeen years. (also, being completely awesome helped them a lot)

LIFE

Lilly grew up with her parents and at least two sisters. Could be three. Maybe more, if dudes were to be included. But I don't think they were. Or existed ever. I shall return to the point, though.

Lilly grew up on a farm in the middle of the Sahara with her sisters and parents, but things weren't cool enough there.

...

*blinks at previous sentence repeatedly*

Therefore, by the age of four, Lilly moved to one of the polar ice caps. It's always been unclear because, at the age of three, Lilly turned invisible. If anyone's seen a grave around, therefore, labelled Lillian ██████, it's because at the age of three, she was pronounced missing in action, having promised to demonstrate her world-renowned acrobatic abilities to the local toddler population. (the toddler population of the Sahara was sorely lacking)

She remained at whichever ice cap it happened to be until she turned fifteen. Or whenever it was that she finally appeared in the Land of the Living, California. She then attended a conference of peculiar people with her constant companion, Precious Technology. Things were pretty harsh around there, so her protective nature came in handy. You know. With all those wild humans and all.

Regardless, in those days of madness and folly, she met a ton of people, who instantly saw the resemblance and named her Granite. Some were more reluctant and attempted to achieve a good photograph of her. But this story is about a girl, not a weirdo with a camera and no sense of personal space.

Lilly went home to her parents, who'd oddly enough moved to this strange place in Asgard called Lodi, which Loki had somehow misspelt in the euphoria after having seizing the town. Here she did awesome things with her friends and siblings for a while. (this part of her history is shrouded in mist and fog and even smog, on Wed...er, Thursdays, so I'll move on) Lilly frequently went on rather fantabulous motorcycle rides with her father, Archibald.

Lilly's later life is plagued with paper clips and actually a lot of pop-tarts, if you look closely enough, but, without a doubt, she made a dent in the proverbial gong of life.

DEATH

It was a sunny day at her home in the Mojave Desert, sitting silently on her rickety rocking chair on her also rickety porch. The sun beat down and Lilly's pet tortellini dangled happily in the wind. The scene was peaceful. But it was all a lie! The sushi she'd eaten many decades before was waging its final, great war against Lilly, and, after defeating her asophegus, mauling her appendix and applying the theory of relativity to her tonsils, it made its way to her heart!

Things were looking grim for Lilly, but, being elderly and toothless and all, she offered her faithful tortellini the chance to defeat the foul sushi. She swallowed her tortellini after a heartfelt goodbye, and it went to work.

The tortellini went after the sushi, zooming, running, bopping! It followed the sushi, 'til at last they met at the great gates of Lilly's heart. The tortellini was a worthy foe, and fought well and hard, but in the end, the sushi's pure young rawness defeated the pasta's rather elderly cooked nature, and it forced its way into her heart, and caused great mayhem therein.

Lilly burped, and moments later greeted Peter.

DEAD

Lilly was one hundred and four, and was missed by the whole human race, except for Joe Shmoe.

He didn't care.


!Noah!

the City on a Forest

Being that I've had a T2i for a while now (on loan from NatCam), it seemed about time I made myself some sort of video. This is a timelapse I created while building a city/towers on top of a "forest".

This is far more exceptional because of how much effort I put into it post-production than how much trouble it took to set up the building and record the pictures and video. I accomplished a lot in Blender tonight, figuring things out that I didn't know before, and using them as they should be. Thus, we have this.

Enjoy!




!Noah!

Heroes

‎"If today we lay the fault for lives lost on heroes, perhaps tomorrow heroes will no longer take up the mantle and the burden of saving lives, and will no longer hold back the lifelong tide of the dead." 

~ Swishkin

Peponi

(For those of you wondering what the heck this is, this is the second part. The first part is available as requested, but, be warned, it's the longest, most rambly, inconsistent, terrific, incredible, horrendous mess of words I've ever read. And I didn't write it. If you still want to read the first part of this story, just ask and I'll find some way to get the monstrosity to you.)

Peponi

one
After the Storm

A long time ago, when huge gigantic wars were going on, and great evils were being scrunched to death, and when tortillas were still inclined to go skydiving, there were companions. Primarily, though, this story and the ones before it pertain to a girl by the name of Susie. Occasionally people were unsure of the spelling of her name, occasionally she was shot with darts, and occasionally she shot darts herself. Most of the time, though, she was confused.

No more. Susie had friends. There was Walter, who she had this thing for, and who, no less, had this thing for her. Yes. Things were had, back then.

There were Ashley, and Clefspeare, Tux and William and Bonnie. But they were all gone.

In the literal sense, Susie was sitting in a pile of dust. Well, no, it was actually sand. And it wasn’t so much a pile as, well, a desert. She was feeling pretty bad. Her lips had gone dry about six hours ago, and time progressing thusfar in such a was as not to end her life was nothing but a miracle. Anyway, she was really thirsty.

Queue beginning of absurdly long description of the local landscape.

Susie sat in a dune several feet taller than almost every other one for miles around. For miles and miles around, there was nothing but sand. There was yellow sand, orange sand, red sand, and there was white sand. In the distance, if one were dehydrated and malnourished, one might even make out blue sand, but that obviously couldn’t be anything but a mirage.

There were several boulders smattered in Susie’s broader vicinity. One of them happened to be shadowing her, oddly enough.

…

I say oddly enough simply because it was high noon. The sun was directly above her. Nevertheless, she was comparatively cool.

Which honestly goes without saying. If you weren’t aware, she’s got the nerve of twelve lions, and the backbone of an overdried tortilla.

Queue end of absurdly long description of the situation in general.

A spider walked up to her and insisted on occupying her knee.

She raised an eyebrow at it and shrugged. It’d been a while since she’d cared if she lived or died. She remembered the good times. Fighting monsters and conquering evils and whatnot. It had been fun. Moreover, there had been Walter. She loved the way he’d been surprised when she nearly crushed the life out of him after all that craziness. She loved the way his hair rarely smelled of dead fish, and she really didn’t mind it when he kissed her.

She started crying.

They were all gone. It seemed impossible that they could be alive. How could they have survived?


two
Windy

Moments after the companions had received their gifts from the White One, they had all sat around for a half minute staring blankly into the surrounding horizon and every one of them failing in every way to think of something to say.

Eventually, though, Walter wacked himself on the head and stood up. It took him some time to figure out what to do after that, but he guided his belt through the loops in his jeans. He sheathed Excalibur and proceeded to look like he had some idea what should be done.

Consequently, the fellowship turned their eyes to him, attentive and willing.

“Um,” he said, looking rather nervous all of a sudden. Suddenly, though, it was clear to him. The path ahead was laid out before him like a very-advanced holographic heads-up-display, but with less expanded abbreviations and less tech involved. Pretty much a gut feeling. It was like his heart could see the yellow brick road even though his eyes couldn’t.

“Come one, people, we haven’t got all day!” he said jovially.

And with that, he led them all into a sandstorm. He wasn’t exactly sure at what point it went from a greened rocky crag to a maelstrom of a desert, but at some point, it did. The company was divided thus: Bonnie found herself with Walter, William with Tux, Clefspeare with Ashley.
Susie, though, found herself alone. And, being the main character of an absurdly long story, she was spending some time feeling sorry for herself. Naturally, crying and not doing anything useful in the desert, she...

“Wanna play darts?” said a tall man with far too much facial hair and a wicked grin on his face.

!Noah!

New Year, stuff and things

Well, it's a new year. I guess that's alright. I haven't written any resolutions. I can't say my life's better yet for having an extra couple years on this decade. Anyway.

Hmmm. What to say. I might be getting a new camera and/or taking some photography classes soon. This primarily depends on my parents, which I'll be grateful for when I see it. Not that I don't appreciate their apparent willingness now, but it's a pretty big thing. I can't wait to go to NatCam to test out all the options.

Still cleaning the house. Unfortunately, I'm not taking much part in it anymore. I probably should. But on the other hand, I want to continue Taekwondo. Preferably more than before. Especially since spring might potentially be around the corner, but actually regardless.

The madhouse that is my mind? For the moment, things are moderately calm. I haven't really talked to a friend in a while, and I feel like I'm getting used to it. That's a bad thing? I'm pretty sure it is in the long run, but for now, I can imagine it being a good thing. Then again, my imagination...

Trying to find a film developer for the cartridge that came with the Olympus film camera. I took a dozen or so pictures...it's odd, though. It says it's a 24-shot one. I guess my confusion is a given, given the fact I've never really used a film camera before. (actually, I have, but it was in Colorado. Like twelve years ago. Disposable. Yes.)

Girl X is still on the lam. Question is, do I forget her as I've always thought of her (potentially meaning the abrupt and unstoppable return of affection just as she returns), or should I let absence do what it does?

...

Even more important, even if I could make my bloody mind up, would I be able to act accordingly?


!Noah!

Words

I freaking love words.

Juxtaposition, quazar, quixotic, pathetic.

Whatever.

Words are too cheap.

Distrobution is in the hands of all, the work of a second.

Words should be precious.


!Noah!

Silverware

Once there was a man who made silverware. For no obvious reason, though, he chose to create his silverware such that they appeared to be spoons and yet were forks. Many were outraged that when they went to eat spaghetti they would find the noodles slipping from their grasp, and when eating soup find that the soup would merely pass through their spoon. People asked him again and again why he did this, but never did the man give a reason.

The man continued throughout his life to create his wares thus, and continued over time to become less and less respected and wealthy. Eventually, he found that his business could no longer support itself, and so closed up shop.

The spoon is a multi-million year old rock.
The fork is a multi-thousand year old rock.
The man is God.


!Noah!

The Ant and the Eagle

A long time ago, after caterpillars had learned to fly but before dandelions took to the skies, there lived an ant in an anthill a long way from the front steps in a crack in the sidewalk. This ant wanted to fly. He spent his days watching the sparrows, bees, butterflies, and eagles in the skies, wishing he, too, could feel the wind in his...well, generally assaulting his person.

One day, he found the sparrow rummaging nearby and went up to him.

“Sparrow, friend, I have seen you fly above the treetops with such ease! How do you coax the wind to hold you aloft?” he queried politely.

The sparrow was hungry and not in a mood to talk, so he pecked at the ant and made to eat him. The ant bolted away quickly and, with panic enough for one day, went to bed to sleep.

The ant woke the next day with one dream in his mind still, to fly! He thought today to ask the kindly butterfly, who wouldn’t eat other things alive. Without delay he climbed a blooming daisy and scanned the skies for the butterfly. No sooner had he looked when the butterfly landed nearby, and spoke to him.

“Good morning, ant! The flowers are beautiful today!” she said happily. The butterfly was usually cheery.

“Good morning, butterfly. The flowers are beautiful indeed, but I only wish to see the sky up close!”

The butterfly nodded sadly. “The sky is beautiful as well. I would carry you there, but my wings are new, and even carrying my own weight aloft is difficult. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor!”

The ant left the butterfly sadly, and returned to his hill once more. The night passed and he slept not, wishing only to go to see the sky

Finally, as the sun’s rays found their way to his hill and the sounds of the morning began, the ant once more ventured forth to find a way to go above the trees.

A heart-wrenching screech went out over the tops of the trees and a rush of wind signaled the arrival of the eagle. The ant scrambled wildly and called to the eagle repeatedly, hoping not to lose this opportunity. To his relief, the eagle came soaring down to him, nearly blowing him half a foot away. The eagle was huge compared to either the sparrow and the butterfly, and much more majestic. Thus the ant addressed him with respect.

“O kindly eagle, I have spent my life wishing to fly and to take to the air, but I have no wings, and the sparrow was unwilling, and the butterfly unable to take me aloft. Would you in your generosity use your great wings to show me the wonder of flight?”
The eagle looked at him and nodded.

He lowered his head and the ant climbed on.

The wind instantly rushed over the ant’s body like a tsunami, shooting through his legs and going on. The ant unfortunately didn’t have eyelids, and thus couldn’t have them fly back and expose his eyeball. Regardless, the ant and the eagle flew that day for a long time, and when the ant became tired, the eagle set him down right next to his hill.

The ant and the eagle became good friends over time, and the ant learned many things from the eagle.

Never trust a sparrow.

The End

!Noah!