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Author has written 15 stories for Teen Titans, and Digimon.
I'm a bipolar II graduate student discovering that "because you can" is not a good reason to get a Ph.D. My field is Chemistry with a focus in drug delivery materials and I teach the organic and advanced organic chemistry labs. One could describe me as a "super undergrad" as I ran the chemistry club for three years, worked almost every job available in the department, double minored in Biology and Mathematics, and still graduated with a 3.89 GPA. Since the diagnosis I've needed to slow down on everything.
I am a published author! Just not of fiction... yet. I enjoy writing fanfictions for children's or non-character focused shows, as I feel they tend to leave a lot of room for expansion and development. Also, these tend to touch on themes or hint at things, but never really explore them, giving me my hole. I strive to take something simple or one dimensional and make it complex and full. My eventual goal is to expand into writing in my own right, but for now I keep it as a hobby.
In my work you'll find three categories: Beast Boy from Teen Titans, Koichi from Digimon Frontier, and in the near-ish future Crona from Soul Eater. These three have tragedy in their established past, but deal with it very differently. They also have an under explored darkness about them which begs the question: what kind of push could turn Jekyll into Hyde? There are also some playful or sweet pieces. It's my goal to write each story such that they could be enjoyed even by people unfamiliar with the cannon show, but I have no idea if I succeed there.
My vices are long chapters and long update times, but I'm turning over a new leaf! First, every chapter is broken up into 2-3 parts around 4 pages in length, so they're easier to read. Second, every story is complete before the first chapter gets put up, so I can ensure regular updates. I'm so appreciative of all the people who've stuck with me through the years and hope that will be less challenging now.
Even if there's no activity here, odds are that I am working on something! Hopefully I've caught your attention and you're going to go read my stuff now! Have fun!
"We are rarely what we seem and even less often what we dream." Schmendrick the Magician
"Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it." Andre Gide
"Reason and faith are both banks of the same river." Doménico Cieri Estrada
"The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement. But the opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth." Niels Bohr
Eric committed suicide on December 2, 2008. He was almost 17, barely younger than me though, oddly enough, he always seemed older. Words can't give justice to him, but I have to try. He was tall, probably close to 6 foot, but to me, he looked like a giant. His hair was milk chocolate brown and a little on the long side, falling to his shoulders then fanning out in a surfer-boy style, and it bounced when he walked. It was the type of hair that you just wanted to reach out and touch, but of course, you never did. His skin was tanned from ridiculous amounts of sunlight and his body was lean and muscular. His eyes were brown and narrow, warm and calming, yet sparkling with an intense zest for adventure and fun. I would say life, but that's too morbidly ironic. Personally, I think his best feature was his voice. It was warm and smooth and rich; and it could always make you feel fuzzy and happy inside, like a dark chocolate truffle. Eric had all of three expressions: pensive, content, and slightly crazed yet still remarkably calm. Zen.
He was one of the most remarkable people to walk the planet, no exaggeration. The reason he was so muscular was because he loved rock climbing, parkour, backpacking, yoga, long distance bike riding, skateboarding, and being active in general. If there was a tree or a cliff, he was up it; if there was a bike, he was on it; if there was a break in class, he was on the floor twisting his body into strange and fascinating positions. I didn't know a boy could bend like that, but there he was, a glorified pretzel on the history floor. You wouldn't suspect any of this by looking at him. He was often described as an "old soul" and projected this aura of calming warmth that could make anyone feel better just by being around him. Eric was very self disciplined, followed a strict vegan diet, an IB (International Baccalaureate) student, explored Eastern religions, anti drug and alcohol, the works. He was insanely smart, in college calculous at 16, and he loved science, hoping to attend college at Northwest (no details). At the same time he was very artistic, a poet and "deep thinker", which meant he contemplated the meaning of existence and regularly discussed conceptual ideas that most people never even conceived of, and an avid reader. He'd surprise everyone with the most mind boggling of questions as to why and how the universe works. He would have loved the IB Theory of Knowledge class.
Through all of this he remained unselfish and, as impossible as it sounds, pure. He was extremely kind and tolerant and well known for his great empathy for others. There were times when he'd just walk up to someone he'd barely met, plop down next to them, and ask "So what's your story?" Or call someone he wasn't very close to and say "You should play with me!" He could sense when you were hurting, and somehow just made it better. Once a week he'd bring in muffins or cookies that he'd made somewhere (he had a tendency to take over friends' kitchens) and hand them out freely. There was never a bad one in the batch. He did it because he loved to see other people enjoying life as much as he loved to bake, which was a lot. He was always in flip-flops regardless of the weather, and these were attached to his over-one-shoulder backpack (Really it was more of a bag, since it bounced on his hip. He wore it across his chest, that way it was most secure incase he decided to take off to somewhere.) with a carabiner. So most of the time he was shoe-less and sock-less and, as such, became known as the barefoot boy.
What Eric was really famous for were his hugs. They were freely and frequently given and the absolute best hugs in the history of hugs. Some people give good hugs, others OK hugs, Eric's were divine. If normal hugs were the cheep, plastic-like chocolate you find on cheep chocolate cakes shaved up to look decorative, his hugs were a Belgium truffle, Godiva chocolate, love-fest! They weren't the quick, loose, casual hugs you come across even in close friendships, or the claustrophobic death-squeezes from loved ones you haven't seen in far too long. They were Utopian, and no, I can't stress that enough. He'd take you in his strong arms and hold you to his chest like you were the most important thing in the world. His grip would be secure, but never uncomfortable, like a blanket supporting you and holding you in place. Your head would lean against his chest at a flawless angle, so he served as the most comfortable of pillows, his heartbeat pulsing against your ear like a lullaby. And he was so impossibly warm, even on the coldest days. Sometimes he'd even nuzzle into your neck or rest his head on top of yours, molding to fit whoever he was hugging perfectly. But there was more than a physical aspect to Eric's hugs. They were like when you were little and afraid and your parent or grandparent or older relative would hold you, protect you. When you felt badly, they made it better; when you were alone they showed you that there was someone there; when you were afraid they sheltered you. I don't care if you were being chased by brain eating zombies or your worst nightmares, a hug from Eric would make it all better. I never felt as safe and happy as I did in Eric's arms. He was like that, he didn't need words to tell you that he loved you. And he loved everything and everybody he came in contact with, truly loved them. You might wonder how I can be so certain that he loved us after what he did, and I can't say anything for certain. That's just how love works sometimes, you just know, you can just feel it. Some of you know what I mean and some of you won't. Eric loved us all, even when he didn't really know us.
The easiest thing to do is to read this like most other things on this site, like a story. In a way it is, our lives are really little more than a collection of stories. What distinguishes them, what makes them life instead of fiction, is that they're real. This is real. While my friend was taking his own life I was in my room almost in tears over a lab report. While he was suffering I was going through life as usual. It never crossed my mind to thank him for the little things he did every day that made life worth living, none of us did. And now he's gone. I can't express the grief we all feel, or the loss the world has sustained. All I can say is that something precious, one of the most innately good people and brightest beacons of hope for humanity, is gone. All I can do is write. It won't bring him back, he's in God's hands now, but it can keep him alive. I put this out here so that you may read and know and remember, so that the world can see and know him, so that even in death he can continue to bring light. There is so much pain our world, so much sadness, and sometimes all we feel we can do is cry. It got to Eric, and it took him away from us. Don't let it get to you, or anyone you know. Somethings are unavoidable, and we will all bleed before it ends, but we can still try. Eric taught us to embrace and enjoy life, to do something random and be friends with someone new. His only fault is that he didn't practice what he preached, that he gave up on this quest we're all on before it ended. Animadverto decor in totus vita. Notice beauty in all life. I challenge you all now, hear Eric's message, open your eyes and see what a wonderful place we have, what a miracle it is. Be kind to someone who don't deserve it. Show people you love them, don't just tell them. Bake something and hand it out at wherever you go, call up an old friend and play with them, give someone a hug, take off your shoes and feel the earth beneath you, be spontaneous, prove the Eric lived! All we can do is live.