And by the way...

Here is the rest of the story from Creative Writing. No, it's not done yet, but I'm still putting it up here. We just had to get to a reasonable stopping point in the story, and mine was them leaving. So here it is.

“I’ve got a question, though,” I said. “What about my parents?”
“They already know,” Lheada said. “That’s why they brought you out here in the first place.”
“So why was I brought up by humans?” I asked.
“So you could learn like a human,” Lheada explained. “So you could learn the logical things that humans do. You’ll learn once we’re with more fairies. We typically jump to conclusions.”
“YOU jump to conclusions,” Eohu said.
“Um... okay, then,” I said. “But when do we leave?”
“Right now,” Eohu said.
“WHAT?” I yelped. “What about sleep and clothes and stuff?”
“That will be covered once we get there,” Eohu said. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” I wondered.
“The king’s hideout,” Lheada explained. “The palace was infiltrated and he had to go into hiding, along with everyone else in our world.”
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“We’re part of his guard,” Lheada explained. “The junior part. We’ve only just passed the tests to get in.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Eohu said. He grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. I had a sudden sensation of being squished into an over tight tube, and then a sudden sense of relief. We were in a totally new place.
We had arrived in a large clearing with a lot of tents that slouched and tons of dejected-looking people. Some were knights pacing back and forth, some were wild-looking men dressed in Lincoln green, and still others were small and light, similar in build to Eohu and Lheada. All of them looked dejected and worn out.
I realized that all of these people were stuff of legend, myths, and fairy tales-the knights of Camelot, Robin Hood and his Merry Men, fairies, elves, sprites, and nymphs. I glanced around and saw a dwarf tying a unicorn to a tree. Nearby, a giant sat whittling a piece of wood. He looked so sad, and I realized why-he must feel so trapped, being tall enough to stand above the trees; he would never get to stretch his legs, for fear of being seen.
On the opposite side of the clearing, a dragon lay sleeping. It was huge, bottle green, and was the saddest sight I had ever seen. Like the giant, he seemed tired, sad, and trapped, like the nap he was taking wasn’t actually giving him any rest.
“Sad, isn’t it?” Lheada said, noticing where I was looking. “Kenzal’s been there for a few days, and he still hasn’t woken up. He’s still breathing, though,” she added, noticing the look on my face.
“This way,” Eohu said, leading us through the campsite to a section that had a definite sense of magic in it, even though the tents were just as bedraggled and the people were just as morose. I guessed that this part was where a lot of the magical types lived-fairies, like us, elves, nymphs, sprites.
I suddenly felt very out of place, with my beaten-up and drawn on blue high tops and overlarge cargo pants. Everybody here was elegantly yet practically dressed except for me and my too-big pants and my ill-fitting plaid shirt. Both had belonged to my dad at one point. I never thought they would be out of place until now.
Eohu pushed back the flap of one of the less haphazard tents and led the way inside. I realized I was still holding the wooden flute. I shoved it into my pocket and followed.
On the outside, the tent was not exactly brilliant. On the inside, however, it could probably sleep at least twenty on fairly nice beds AND had room for a study and a fire pit.
Sitting at the desk, which was the first thing I saw, was a man of about forty. He looked tired, just like everyone else, probably partially due to the lateness of the hour. However, he had a sort of rugged sense about him that was still sort of regal. I guessed that this was the king. He looked up as we entered.
“Ah,” was all he said. I wasn’t sure whether I was allowed to look at him or not, so I fixed my eyes on the disorganized desk. The room was quiet for a few seconds.
“We did as you asked, sir,” Eohu said lamely after a few moments of the awkward silence.
“I see,” the king said. “Did you fill her in entirely?”
“Yes, sir,” Lheada replied.
“Very well,” the king said. “The search party leaves at dawn in two days. Lheada, I am afraid you will have to remain here. The men need a female presence in camp while the rest are away. Eohu, you are still coming, I presume. Now, any questions?”
“I do,” I said meekly. The king glared at me. I immediately forgot what I going to say under his stern glare. “Um... I was wondering, um... never mind,” I stuttered, blushing scarlet.
“Yes, well, carry on for the night,” the king said. The two fairies bowed and left, and I, not knowing what else to do, followed suit.
Once we were out of the tent, I asked, “okay, what did he mean by ‘fill me in entirely,’ and why do I still feel totally clueless?”
“Not now, Lily,” Lheada sighed.
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Eohu said apologetically.
“Try,” I insisted.
“Well, basically, all the creatures and people of legend-fairies, sprites, nymphs, elves, King Arthur and his men, Robin Hood and his men, dragons, wizards, witches, unicorns, dwarves, centaurs, everything-they’re dying out. Now Guinevere and all her ladies-in-waiting and the fairy queen and the princesses and Robin Hood’s daughter, they’ve all been captured. All the girls except for Lheada, basically, were captured and being held hostage in the old fairy castle, or maybe one of the ruins, we’re not sure, and we have to go save them.”
“How was that hard to explain?” I inquired.
“There are a lot of weird prophecies and whatnot that involve a flute player-that’s you-and a quest and lots of other junk that’s all very confusing,” Lheada said. “So we’re going to take you to the grub tent and explain the rest in the morning, all right?”
“Okay,” I said. “But where do I sleep?”
“In our tent, Lheada said, as if the idea didn’t really suit her fancy all too well. And that was that.
************************************************************************

The next morning, after a fitful sleep in a cramped tent, I awoke at dawn, unable to sleep any longer. I don’t know why I couldn’t sleep. I don’t think it was the hard ground so much as the fact that I was sleeping between Eohu and Lheada, and Eohu kept rolling over on top of me.
Rising as quietly as I could, I moved out into the mist of the campsite at dawn. Shivering slightly in the cold, I walked over to a somewhat secluded place behind our tent and pulled out the flute. It was small, really. Looking at it, I was totally befuddled by all the holes and designs. I put it to my mouth, and just as I was about to blow, there was a voice behind me.
“Lily?” a male voice asked quietly.
I turned. The voice belonged to a young man I didn’t recognize, with dark, shaggy brown hair, large amber eyes, and freckles. He was at least three inches taller than me, but he was also kind of skinny, like he had just gained the height.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m Simon,” he said, taking a tentative step forward. “I’m one of the merry men.” He barely looked older than me. He still seemed to be in that awkward phase between boyhood and teenager-hood, but certainly not Robin Hood-hood.
“What are you...? I mean...” why was I so terrible at asking questions of these people? Simon wasn’t in the least bit attractive. Well, maybe a little bit, but not that much.
“I saw you come out of your tent,” he explained. “I... uh... I couldn’t sleep either. Can I join you?”
“Um... sure,” I said, sitting down.
“What were you doing before?” he asked, sitting down beside me.
“Nothing,” I said honestly.
“Really?” He asked, as if he didn’t believe it.
“Yes!” I insisted, with maybe a little too much force. Simon still looked doubtful.
“Well, then,” he said.
Another figure appeared over Simon’s shoulder. Simon immediately jumped up, and I followed suit.
The newcomer was tall and broad, in a muscular sort of way. He had auburn hair and bluish-grayish-greenish eyes.
“What are you two doing?” he asked. His eyes traveled over me, and then to Simon, where they donned a look of disgust.
“Nothing,” Simon said. He seemed somewhat intimidated.
“He just introduced himself,” I piped up. “Then you came.”
The newcomer raised one eyebrow.
“Garrett, honest,” Simon said. There was an almost pleading note in his voice.
“Garrett nodded, as if he didn’t believe a word of it.
“Well, then,” Garrett said. “I’ll leave you two to it, shall I?”
He stalked away.
Simon glared after him.
“What is it with you and him?” I asked.
“What are you talking about?” he replied.
“It’s just you don’t seem to like each other all that much,” I said.
“He just got knighted,” Simon explained. “And he’s acting like that automatically makes him ten times better than any of the rest of us. The Merry Men, I mean. I can do anything he can. He just has to act all high and mighty about it, because now he’s SIR Garrett of the Southeast Duchy of the Warrior Knights instead of Garrett the Page.”
“And so he was bullying you?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” Simon said, shifting uncomfortably. “He... I can just tell that he doesn’t like me.”
“How can you tell?” I don’t know why I was so curious about these guys I barely knew, but I couldn’t help but wonder what was up between the two of them.
“The way he treats me, you think I was about two,” Simon grumbled unhappily. “And he doesn’t seem to think I’m there. If it’s me and him and a few other guys, and we’re talking about something or another, I’ll start to put in my two cents and then halfway through my sentence, he’ll start talking over me, like I’m from the Land of the Unintelligible or something.”
“I see,” I said slowly. “Well, I had a friend who did that.”
“What happened?” Simon asked.
“We went to different schools after fifth grade and we’ve only seen each other about twice since then,” I told him. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy this time, though. I mean, for you. Is he coming on the mission?”
“Yes,” Simon grunted. “Unfortunately.”
“Well, that’s convenient,” I muttered.
“Are the cooks up yet?” Simon asked, abruptly changing the topic. “I’m starving, aren’t you?”
“Okay,” I agreed. Simon hurried off. Shoving the flute back in my pocket, I turned to follow him, glancing back over my shoulder to survey the area one more time before leaving. As I turned away again, I heard a rustle in the bushes behind me, followed by quiet footsteps that seemed to be going away from me. I immediately swung back around. There was nothing there. I looked closer. Still nothing.
“What’s taking you so long?” Simon demanded, coming back to my side.
“I thought I heard something come out of the bushes over that way,” I told him, pointing. “And then it ran off.”
“Weird,” Simon said. He walked forward and crouched down to inspect the ground where we had just been.
“There are no tracks,” he said, studying the dirt closely.
He went over to the other side of the bushes and crouched down again. I followed him.
“Yep, something has definitely been here,” he said. “See, that print there looks like a human footprint. If it were human, it might fit a kid around seven or eight. But the thing is nobody here is younger than sixteen.”
“Actually, yes there is,” I said. “I’m fifteen.”
“All right, aside from you, nobody here is under the age of sixteen,” Simon said. “And a dwarf’s foot is bigger than that. This means we’re being watched. We need to tell the king. Follow me.”
He rose and started off at a jog. I followed, struggling to keep up with his longer stride.
Simon arrived at the king’s tent moments before I did. He seemed barely out of breath, but he was also taller than me, had a longer stride, and therefore was able to leave me in the dust in a footrace. I was completely winded and breaking a sweat with the effort of keeping up with him.
“We want to see the king,” Simon said to the guard outside the door that hadn’t been there last night.
“The king is indisposed, on account of being asleep,” the guard told him firmly. “So buzz off.”
“It’s urgent!” Simon insisted.
“Whatever an outlaw and a little fairy girl have to say can wait until morning,” the guard said.
“It IS morning,” Simon reminded him doggedly. “The sun is up and everything.”
“Well, you’ll still have to wait for the king to wake up,” the guard insisted. “You have to wait for the king. The king doesn’t have to work his schedule around yours.”
Just then, the tent flap was pulled back, and the king emerged. He looked no less tired than when I had seen him the night before. He was wearing an old coat and pajamas. Everyone bowed.
“What’s wrong, William?” he asked pleasantly.
“They want to talk to you, sir,” the guard named William said. “It’s urgent, apparently, even though I didn’t think-“
“What is it?” the king interrupted, looking at us.
“Footprints, sir,” Simon said. “Brand new, sir. Lily heard whatever it was leaving just a few minutes ago, sir. We were in this clearing near the edge of camp, and-“
“Show me,” the king ordered.
“This way,” Simon said. Simon led the way and the king followed just behind him, with me at the back.
“Interesting,” the king said, crouching down to inspect the marks in the dirt. “Any idea what made these?” he asked of both of us.
“We’re not really sure,” Simon replied. “We were thinking maybe a brownie or something similar in build. Gnomes or goblins, perhaps. It’s really hard to say.”
I didn’t recall ever agreeing to thinking that it might have been a brownie or something similar in build, but I didn’t think it was the time to argue with him.
“I don’t think goblins would be this far from a cave or a mine,” the king said. “And gnomes are just plain stupid. It would be silly to make a fuss if it were a gnome that was watching you, but if it was a brownie, we’re in serious trouble. They’re loyal to Maldan, and they’re very smart. Did it see or hear anything that might have been important?”
“It might have seen the flute,” I said.
“Brilliant,” the king muttered. “Just brilliant. Now they might know we have the prophecy girl. Great.”
Then I heard a rustle behind me again. Spinning around, I saw a small, furry little creature waddling away from me on two short legs, cackling in a voice that sounded like it swallowed some helium or something. If it hadn’t been for the voice, I would have thought it was a walking teddy bear.
It moved away into a little clearing a little farther away. It turned around and, seeing me watching it, immediately dove into the nearest bush and raised its eyes tentatively over the edge of it, seeing whether I was still watching or not.
I turned back to the other two. “So is that a brownie?” I asked them.
“Yep,” The king said.
“Weird,” I remarked. “I didn’t exactly expect it to be so, well, cute.”
“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?” Simon said, glowering. “Send out the cute little fuzz balls that nobody will hurt, and you’ll get all the information you need. Nasty little creatures, really. They bite hard and won’t give or tell you anything unless you give them their favorite food.”
“What’s their favorite food?” I wondered.
“Apples,” Simon said.
“I’m going out there,” I decided. “Maybe it will talk to me easier than it will talk to you, because I’m a girl.”
“Why should that make a difference?” Simon asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”
“She’s got a fair point,” the king put in. “But you should take this.” He pulled an apple out of his coat pocket.
“Thanks,” I said.
Cautiously, I walked across the wooded area to the brownie’s clearing. Its eyes watched me from behind its bush. I crouched down and moved slowly towards it.
“Come on,” I said, using the same voice I used with my dog when he didn’t want to get up for his morning walk. “Come on,” I repeated, smiling slightly. I held out the apple.
The eyes behind the bush went wide, and the brownie emerged from the bush. Approaching with caution, its little button nose sniffed the apple, as if to see whether it was poisoned, and then all of a sudden snatched it out of my hand, giggling in the helium voice.
Before it got a chance to run away, I snatched it around the middle.
“Gocha!”
I pulled the apple out of its grip.
“What did you hear?” I demanded.
“Nothing,” the brownie said. Its voice was surprisingly gruff-I’d been expecting more of the helium tones.
“What can you tell me about your master’s whereabouts?” was my next question.
“Give me the apple and I’ll tell you everything,” it told me.
“Tell me first, and then you’ll get it,” I said.
“It’s my price for the information,” it said.
“How will I know you won’t run off as soon as you get it?” I asked suspiciously.
“I won’t,” it promised.
“Yeah, right,” I said. “You’ve got a meeting with my king, mister. Come on.”
Wrapping my arms tighter around the little creature, I walked back over to Simon and the king.
“Lemme go,” it grunted.
“Not a chance, buddy,” I answered.
“I’m not saying anything,” it insisted.
“That’s funny,” I said. “I think I just heard you say something, or are my ears going bad?”
The brownie just rolled its eyes.
“You’re gonna need a lot of apples for this one,” I told the king. “It says it’s not saying anything, but that probably proves it’s guilty.”
“I like the way your mind works, Lily,” the king said. “I’ll take over from here.”
***************************************************************************

Several hours and quite a few apples later, the king and his advisors had eked all the information they could about the whereabouts of the Royal Ladies and Maldan’s stronghold. I knew Lheada had been involved with the persuasion, because she came out of the tent quite a while later. The first thing she did after looking at me was to wave her hand, and my hair had instantly braided itself into waist-length corn rows.
“You’re going to need it,” she explained. “It’s a lot easier to manage if it’s back like that. Dreadlocks are too much of a hassle. And by the way, the king wants you.”
It turned out that the king just wanted to tell me what had happened, and what had been decided.
As soon as possible, the search was going to leave. The party had been greatly reduced to a quarter of what was originally going to be sent out-it was now only me, Simon, Garrett, and Eohu.
In addition to this information, the king also gave me a map of the stronghold, a long, searching look, the news that I should probably keep the boys in line, because they were all rookies, and the advice that I should keep the flute with me at all times.

A few hours later, after getting a completely new but much sturdier outfit from the elves, including something that looked, felt, and worked like a bodice, but was actually armor, and some new boots, we were finally able to leave.

my decision

After a total of about two minutes deliberation, I have decided that I will not do the story blog.
Carry on with life.
YAY WRITING!

Okay, so...

Well, I have been thinking that I rant a lot in this blog, even though half the reason I originally created it was for stories and stuff. So what I have been thinking is to make a new blog for the stories and stuff, and keep this one for ranting about life.
I am not sure whether I am actually going to do the new blog, but still.
It is still a possibility, is it not?
Will post again later.

and by the way.......................

It's my dad's birthday.
by the way.

rants. again.

Right now I'm in my TA's room, because I've got nothing better to do, because Facebook is blocked because this is school, and that is what the teachers and people do, and I've already checked my email and everything. So here I am.
Anyway, I finally finished "of Mice and Men" last night. I hated the ending. Seriously. I did NOT want Lennie to die. Lennie was cool. Okay, he wasn't cool, but I wish George hadn't KILLED him. True, there was no other way for it to end, because you could just tell that they were going to get into something like that eventually, but STILL. I liked Lennie. One of my best friends is kind of like Lennie, except not super crazy strong. She's a crazy fast runner, though. She does cross country and she's every nutritionist's dream. Seriously. She swims and runs and she's the kind of person who will bring granola bars and a water bottle to the movies instead of buying popcorn and a soda, like I do. Except I don't buy the soda, because I hate having to pee halfway through. I usually end up splitting the popcorn with her, and our other friends, if we go with other friends (no, we are NOT dating. We are FRIENDS.), because the popcorn bins at the local theaters are freaking HUGE. For some reason, I always buy a large, even though I never finish it, even when three people are splitting it with me. I've only finished one about twice, but that was only because there were five of us and two bins of popcorn and it was a really boring movie, I thought. It was (500) Days of Summer. I didn't like it. There were a couple funny scenes, but I thought it was kind of boring.
And that's the most recent movie that I've seen in theaters.
Anyway, what else to say?
Um....
YAY LIFE!
I'm going to go now. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm going.

Not for the Life of Me-Thoroughly Modern Millie

MILLIE:
I studied all the pictures in magazines and books
I memorized the subway map too
It's one block north to Macy's and two to Brothers Brooks
Manhattan, I prepared for you

You certainly are diff'rent from what they have back home
Where nothing's over three stories high
And no one's in a hurry or wants to roam
But I do, though they wonder why

They said I would soon be good and lonely
They said I would sing the homesick blues
(taking a train ticket from her pocket)
So I always have this ticket in my pocket
A ticket home in my pocket
To do with as I choose

(tearing the ticket in two)
Burn the bridge, bet the store
Baby's coming home no more
Not for the life of me
Break the lock, post my bail
Done my time, I'm out of jail
Not for the life of me

A life that's gotta be more than a one-light town
Where the light is always red
Gotta be more than an old ghost town
Where the ghost ain't even dead

Clap-a-your hands, just-a-because
Don't you know that where I am ain't where I was
Not for the life of me
Boh-doh-dee-oh
Not for the life of
Not for the life of
Not for the life of me!




Well, it's the first song in the show. I guess I should start practicing, even though I'm probably not going to end up singing it, but whatever.
I wish my iTunes gift card hadn't run out.

musicals

I know it's been a while since I last posted. I'm going to try to do better, I swear. Anyway, I found out what our school musical is going to be- Thoroughly Modern Millie. I've never seen it. I've heard of it, but I've never seen it. It seems good.
Apparently, it's about this girl (Millie, obviously) who moves to New York from Kansas and gets a job and then gets offered a job as a stenographer or something. She intends to marry her boss because of her boss' money, but then she falls in love with this cynical go-back-to-Kansas sort of guy instead. And she bobs her hair and starts dressing like a flapper, because she can, and it's the 20's. Anyway, as I've never seen the show, I don't know what part I want.I kind of want to go for Millie, but, really, what girl isn't secretly wishing she could be the female lead in any show?
Anyway, as I haven't seen it, I don't know what part I want. I REFUSE to be part of the chorus. Again. Especially if it's the slutty chorus, like the Jet Girls in West Side Story. I was one of them. I do NOT want to be a backup singer for the entirety of my high school drama career. That would be very un-fun. I know I'm not going to be the LEAD, but I don't want to be the one doing jazz hands in the background. Or just singing. In the background. Because that would REALLY suck.
I want to at least be in the show, though.
I don't know what would be worse-being in the background through all of my high school acting career, or not being able to be in the show at all for the rest of high school.
I guess it would be better to be in the show, but still. West Side Story was HARD. We seriously at school from four until about nine thirty almost every night for the month preceding the show. And by month I mean two weeks. Every. Single. Day. And some weekends.
And we sometimes didn't even get out until ten.
The show ended up being awesome, I think, but I also think that that opinion is partially based on the fact that I was deranged from lack of sleep.
Okay, not deranged. But still.
It was hard.
That's the one downside of being in school musicals, I've found.
Even though I've only been in one school musical, and that was West Side Story. I've been in other musicals and plays and stuff, but only one audition-in school musical. West Side Story. You gotta love and hate it.

oh...

Oh yeah. And happy October.
Yay Halloween!

YAY FOR BLOWING STUFF UP!!

Well, I'm really bored right now. I probably should be studying my sonnet, but I don't really want to. So I'm not going to. It's only, like, the last three lines that are really annoying, anyway. Anyway, I'm sort of enjoying school right now, even though math is annoying and I have to wake up early for chemistry and sometimes the workload in every class is annoyingly epic, things are going all right. Especially this morning in chemistry. The teacher stuck a little hunk of lithium in a bowl of water, and it sort of fizzed a bit. But then he stuck a bigger hunk of sodium into a different bowl of water, and then after about fifteen seconds it exploded. Seriously. It sounded like a balloon was popping or something. It was SO AWESOME!! So, so far, the most important thing I've learned in chemistry is alkaline metals explode in water. Most of them, anyway. Except for lithium and hydrogen.
So, basically, a month into chemistry and we have already had our first explosion. That's really why I took chemistry in the first place. So I could blow stuff up. And other stuff, too. But mostly because it's chemistry and we get to blow stuff up. And blowing stuff up, that's pretty cool.
So that's my story.
The end.

Sonnet 133

Here is sonnet 133, by William Shakespeare. No, I did not type this up off the top of my head. I copied it off of spark notes. I do NOT want to think about that sonnet again until Thursday.

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me;
Is’t not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed;
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken,
A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail.
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
Thou canst not then use rigor in my jail.
  And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,
  Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

I. Hate. Sonnets.

I really hate sonnets. Especially Shakespearean sonnets. But, whadda ya know, my English teacher made each of us one. Great. And it was due today. I know I failed at the "write it down off book" because I could NOT remember the last three lines for my life. I could remember the last three WORDS, but not the last three LINES.
I guess was ahead of some of my friends, though. One thought it was due on Thursday, so she hadn't even picked one out until the block before. Two others knew what theirs were, and one sort of knew hers and one couldn't remember hers for her life. And those were HER words, not mine. So I guess I was ahead of at least some people, even though Sonnet 133 has to be the weirdestly worded sonnet in existence (and I KNOW that "weirdestly" is not a word, but I do not care). And ONLY William Shakespeare would come up with something like "Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan" and "And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee." ONLY Shakespeare. Not ONE other poet do I know of that can pull something like that off. ONLY him. I guess that's why so many people are like, "Shakespeare is such a great poet! YAY!" Why? Because you don't get anything he's saying, so therefore it must be profound? Not to a high schooler. Maybe not even to most adults does fifteenth-century-talk make ANY sense whatsoever. So BOO YA for being able to remember most of a sonnet.
But the rest of them need to go burn and die.

Renn Fest!!!!

Well, we went to the Renaissance Festival yesterday, and it was REALLY fun. I DID spend almost all of my budget, and yes, at least half of it was on food. But I DID get a really cool bodice for ten bucks, and at the store next door they were in the hundred-dollar range. Mind you, the store next door's bodices were quite a bit fancier. However, the bodice I got's just cooler because it hasn't got any crazy sort of Fleur-De-Lis-type fabric pattern or anything. It's just plain black with a few ribbons sewn onto it and ties on the shoulders. I like it. You can wear it as a vest, which is nice, or you could lace up the front and it'll look like you're wearing a corset, which is kind of cool.
I also got a really cool necklace. And we got our faces painted. Mine was a blue and black tribal sort of pattern that took up half my face. It looked really cool, even when I had to put my glasses back on. The thing went just below your eyebrow and on the bit of your nose right by your eye. I'm not sure what that's called.
We also did a huge photo op at the stockade, which is always loads of fun. The stockade is the place where you stick your head and your hands in the holes and look evil, because the stockade used to be a form of punishment, and you hang wooden signs around your neck with whatever your crime was. I decided that my crime was just being stupid. I don't really see how being stupid (well, it was 'fool' on the sign) is criminal, but whatever.
And we also *tried* to learn to juggle, but it didn't work out so well.
But, all in all, it was a pretty fun day.
And we took pictures with a whole ton of the actors who were like part of the King's court and stuff. And with Henry the VIII, of course.
It was REALLY fun.