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Coc0Chan
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Name: Carolyn
State: Texas
Birthday: 2/11/1987
Interests: "Honor and dishonor through talking! A man's tongue can be his downfall" -Sirach 5
Theatre is awesome. So is writing. My interests are so static.
Expertise: Once Upon a Times. One day, there won't be a tomorrow and happily every after will finally be the present. They will be woven. One nicely knit woven trinket fairy tale.
Occupation: HAHAHAHAHA
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  Carowin211
MSN: Oh_Dear05@hotmail.com
Member Since:
11/10/2003
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| The Ugly Princess Part One Beta test
Once
upon a time in a kingdom far far away there lived a princess high in a
tower. She was a recent arrival to the tower, as its previous owner had
recently been rescued by a neighboring prince.
Well this
princess was alone in her room, tending to her long tresses of hair (a
necessary part of living in a tower) and singing to the birds, when she
heard a voice calling to her from the ground. "Fair maiden with the
voice of an angel! It is I! The prince who has come to rescue you!"
The
princess's heart leapt with excitement. She knew what to do this time!
She ignored the past two failures, and scooted to the sole window that
overlooked the vast forest. Keeping her face hidden behind a fan, she
peered down. Below her, a handsome prince dismounted his white horse,
and with a flurry of his cape strode to the base of her tower.
He
extended his arms longly upward and called, "Fair maiden! Your
beautiful voice has penetrated the forest to reach my priviledged ears!
Let down your hair so that I may rescue you from this tower!"
"I shall," the princess called down, "But first, promise me something good prince."
"Anything!" he knelt down. The princess smiled. This was a gesture that would bind him to his words.
"Promise me that no matter what you see in the next five minutes or so will deter you from marrying me," the princess called.
"On my honor as a prince!" he thumped his right fist against his chest, "I will honor this promise or die!"
What? the princess wondered. "Um... wait..." she tried to say, "Are you serious about that?"
"Let down your hair!" the prince called again.
"Alright..."
the princess hesitated. The past two times, this part was excruciating.
At the palace, no one ever mentioned how much pain was involved in
having a fully grown prince climb your hair. The princess gritted her
teeth and threw her hair down. I'll be fine, she thought, I've already
done this twice, it couldn't be...
"YES IT COULD!" she screamed grabbing the base of her scalp.
The
princess hoisted the prince into her room as he breached the edge of
the window. He collaped on the floor, panting. "That wasn't so bad, was
it?" the prince asked between breaths.
The princess fanned herself, backing away. "Alright, sir," she began, "Now, remember your promise."
The
prince straitened up and turned to her. Regally, he extended his
bejeweled hand. "Come with me, fair maiden," he said, "Do not hide
behind that fan. I have not forgotten my promise to take you as my
wife. Anyone with a voice as lovely as yours can be nothing but
beautiful."
"I'm so relieved," the princess sighed, "That to
marriage or to death thing you mentioned was a little frightening." The
princess relaxed, smiled and folded up her fan.
Less than a
second later, the prince was airborn, launching himself out of the
window. The princess yelped and stuck her torso out, looking for him.
She cringed at seeing him writhe on the ground. "Prince, wait!" she
cried, "Come back! You promised!"
"Come on horse!" the prince
scrambled into his saddle, ignoring the cracking of his broken limbs in
his frenzy to escape. "A prince only keeps the promises he makes to a
lady!" the prince yelped, "And you, madam, are no lady! Yah!"
The
princess watched his horse disappear into the forest and sighed. She
rested her cheek in her palm and thought, So much for that idea. Back
to the drawing board. | | |
| do i hate my life or do i like it? a thin line i say... a thin line...
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| Love is the look in the eyes of a little kitten when it first wakes up
and realizes it used your lap as a pillow. it purrs and then relaxes
again and gives you a mean look when you don't scratch behind its ear.
And then it hears the tiniest, furtive sound being made by the beagle
downstairs. It's tail suddenly fluffs up to twice the size it usually
is, and its muscles coil and in one single, fluid motion, the kitten
launches itself from your lap; completely oblivious to the fact that
its claws are fully extracted and digging into your skin.
And that is why the Medrano family is covered with kitty scratches.
When i go in public with cuts on my wrist, I am not suicidal. I am a
cat owner.
-Caro
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| Last dramatic analysis paper for the rest of my life, hopefully. We both win then. | | |
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