So I’m actually getting into SC2 now, having left it alone for a bit. And I’m proud to say I’m in Platinum and getting better slowly. About a 50% win rate, which I suppose is what the matchmaking system wishes me to have. I’ve decided to start uploading some of the games to YouTube, it just takes forever so it’ll be slow. Still, I’ll leave some games on my laptop to upload during the night. Here’s one I played a couple days ago:

Might help to go directly to the game, also this one is split into two parts. But the little video is embedded if you wish to watch it here. I’ll be adding more to my channel over time as well. Two should be going up tonight. Not all wins, trying to mix in games that generally show how I’m doing.

Basically my ZvZ has gotten steadily better, in fact I actually won a ZvZ. Several actually. It’s strange, I used to not have a hope in hell of winning a ZvZ, but I’ve taken about five out of seven of them in the past two days. I think I’ve started to handle pressure better. I just got out of a ZvZ where I had a contain against me for most of the match, and it was because of a hidden gold expansion that I was able to make a comeback. We did mirror builds too, he pulled out ahead at first but my gold expansion and superior muta micro saved the day.

However reviewing my replays for the night, I would have been in an even stronger position if I remembered to respawn my queen at the main after it went down. Ah well, that’s what replays are for. Like Day9 says, “Always review your replays, especially when you loose.” And doing so allows me to see what went wrong in the case of a loss, and what could be improved upon in the case of a win. Here’s what I’ve learned: I’m much better at keeping cool. I did loose one match because I attacked when I was completely unprepared, but in general I’m calmer under pressure. I’m not freaking out and making 200 zerglings the moment my base is threatened. However, I need to get better at populating an expansion. This is why, after watching games where my natural had 0 drones for like five minutes, I started working on 14 hatch builds. And actually, the fact that I’m early expanding allowed me to learn how to better saturate a natural. And now, in the case of the ZvZ discussed above, not only did I manage to sneak an expansion, but I also got it up and running.

I also need to work on the best unit composition to beat Stalker/ Zealot. I’m still figuring out the exact balance, but I’d say Roach/ Hydra is probably the way to go. Even if I’d like to experiment with Hydra/ Baneling.

Oh, and scouting with a drone at 13 changed my game. I haven’t lost a single Overlord to scouting lately and the drone if sent early enough can survive a very long time. It also has given me the edge over Zergs in 4-player match-ups. I’ve noticed most scout with an Overlord only, but with a drone I’ve managed to spot them faster, get down their timings and tailor my build to crush them. I think more than anything, that little tweak has elevated my game, because scouting is good and if I can keep that drone alive, I can be a good Zerg player and react like I should. (Zerg often being reactionary). I’ve also started to learn how to do a better macro game. before I wanted to do more pressure micro type games but it’s good to know when to early expand and I’ve managed to get two basses up and running increasingly quickly.

Oh I am glad for 3v3s and 4v4s for allowing me a chance to practice other races. For 1v1 and 2v2 I always play Zerg, but I’ve been randoming for the other two because they’re not real ladders.

So far it’s not been like beta, community wise. During beta it was common for me to play against a great player, laugh about it, discuss strat after one person had clearly lost. I often ended up playing several matches with people, even got on Vent with one. It was a lot of fun. So far though, release community (maybe to be expected) has reminded me of XBox live.

I actually played a 3v3 game where we had a kid who “gg”ed when he thought we were going to win. In StarCraft, it’s incredibly rude to “gg” when you think you’ve won. (An opponent will type ‘gg’ when they surrender traditionally). And he kept doing it. I should have just kept up with my macro (oddly, myself and the other silent partner were the only two doing things. It took that kid 10 minutes to make six void rays). He kept doing it, moments before his base was obliterated and we were forced into recovery/ panic mode for a bit. We eventually won (me and silent partner ended up with about 100 mutalisks between the two of us), at which point an opponent called one of us “a blood puking vagina”. So yeah, currently looking in the Reddit SC community and friends for my games.

It’s a shame too, but I guess that’s release. In Beta, the people playing at 3am were the fans. Maybe it’s because games matter now, our ladder rank isn’t going to be reset seven times in two weeks now. Still, it’s interesting and disheartening to see people ignore basic decency. I just miss almost being able to count on logging in and meeting up with a complete stranger for marathon 1v1s and 2v2s.

gg!

Oh! I forgot to mention. They took out Incineration Zone from the map rotation! As a Zerg player all I can say is, FUCK YEA!

posted by Jade Castillo
Tags: Day9, Reddit, Sean Plott, StarCraft 2
Filed under: Starcraft

Happy Full Moon!

So I’m back in therapy, and it went alright. Emotionally draining, but it went alright. Just so long on, and it’s still with me. I suppose I just felt compelled to write that. It’s a quiet night, full moon, and I need a distraction. So I might write a little, might write a lot. I can’t sleep before 4 regardless of what I do, so might as well. Have some time. Actually, I am proud of something. Despite having therapy and it causing me to nap when I got home, I did wake up and go to the gym. Even though I wasn’t feeling it, and that improved my mood once I finished. It’s become habit forming. I love the way it makes my body look, I love how I feel and I like going. I’m glad that even when the weather is crap (it’s not in the neighborhood) and I’m worn out that I’ll still go. And even when I promise myself “just for fun, don’t push”, I end up pushing myself anyways. Why? Because going easy is boring and suffering is awesome. Right around rep 17 of 20 (combined with several sets) I have that shaking, wincing feeling but a smile stretches across my face. It’s really quite interesting, actually. I’ve been more willing to challenge myself lately, either by doing more difficult exercises or increasing weight.

Finished another chapter of The Lady General for the first time in a month. It was remarkably difficult. I ended up tossing about 4 pages out, then re-writing them, then tossing them back out. Still I think it needs to be pruned a bit, but I can handle that. I had two separate ways to go about something and could not decide which was the better one. Either way, this was the last chapter to be re-written and it turned from comical to dark in the process, although I like to think I kept a few of my favourite jokes. It did need a bit of levity sprinkled in, especially given that the last few chapters have been nothing but various forms of bloody violence. I’m opening the next chapter with a card game. Problem is, they wouldn’t have a conventional deck and I’d like to develop a skeleton set of rules for a real game. It’s also a chance to play with character dialogue, and I love that. Xavier and Tat fight constantly and I love writing their dialogue together more than any other pairing. Well, Reyna’s up there too, but for less cute reasons and more ‘I’ll break your mind and you’ll love it!’ with a heavy dose of insanity. Also a bizarre connection to Tat that I quite like.

My friend has given me the links to some interesting articles on a blog, both revolving around kink. If you’re looking for well written essays, there’s one on ‘10 Principles for Healthy 24/7 D/s and M/s‘ and “It’s not about sex” and other lies. Worthwhile reads, and the latter might be more general interest than the first which is obviously geared towards a specific audience. I think it’s a good sign, I’ve gone from never wanting anything to do with BDSM again, to playing a tiny bit, adding to my gear collection and now I’m able to read a little bit about it again. Probably a sign of healing. There was a time back in April when the thought made me physically ill, and I swore off anything to do with BDSM. Truthfully, I’m glad I’m healing. I have a ways to go, but I have good people around me and the time to reconnect, and in a better way than before. It does make me happy. I’m just nervous. My ability to trust is shot, but that might be a good thing. And I’m still very easily triggered, as I’ve been learning. I feel like where I am is good, but that it’ll take some time to push forward. Wish I had someone here who could help. As much as my friend has been so kind to do, it’s long distance and that’s never easy.

Last night I had a wonderful (belated)  birthday dinner with my family. It was in the distillery district, and at my favourite restaurant in the city. Also favourite place in the city. I love the old Victorian cobblestone streets and buildings. Afterwards my mother and I checked out a new condo which they built, which matches the decor at street level beautifully and actually has a back door that leads right onto the secluded car-free streets. Mostly we talked about how I would have to get a place there when I was ready. Talking about how it would be the perfect place for my private practice, a great community, how I could wear Victorian outfits around the district and people would accept me as an artist/ performance. (There’s a ton of artists there, it’s really an amazing place. Old Victorian distillery buildings packed with artist studios) It’s funny, the conversation then turned to a family when there was a day care right next door. How it would be the perfect place to raise a daughter. Have a condo, be a therapist and write from home (or the cafes along the cobblestone streets, certainly I’d get coffee there). How the community would be close, and there would be a ton of artists (most likely safe place for a daughter with a trans mother or maybe two).  How I could let Rose (I have a name) run around in a safe, car-free environment. How the cafe would probably know her usual order. How I’d have a nest (the condo) and a nice community place to spend most of my time. Not to say I’d never venture out, but I tend to like having a territory. (Like now, my life exists at my apartment, at the gym and then the line between the two) Later when I got home, wondered what my wife would be like. What kind of relationship it would be, as a part of me yearns for a D/s style relationship. It’s funny, I mentioned this before, but I’ve started to think a lot about the future. I wonder if it can come true. Probably, but not in the exact form I expect it. That’s usually how it is. But it is something that I wish for, and I realize this is repeating an earlier post. But it’s still a strange thing, to actually look for the future.

Lastly I’m almost through season 2 of Xena: Warrior Princess and I am so jealous that my mother got to dress up in an awesome Xena costume. I want one…

posted by Jade Castillo
Tags: BDSM, The Lady General
Filed under: Jade' Kinks, Jade's Diary, The Lady General

Loup Garrou or Tatjyana Novikov, I am not. Not yet. But I’m getting closer. Even if Loup was a classic style boxer, and Tatjyana’s style is informal and self-described as ‘Norden street prostitute’. Regardless, I returned to a slightly more formal training regiment today and it was good. Difficult but good.

My previous instructor isn’t able to do our private sessions for the time, so it was motivation to find a regular club to go to. I found one close to home. Clean, well equipped, people there are nice. And had my first private session today. They kept asking me if I wanted to do group sessions, but I don’t think I’m ready for that level of interaction with strangers. I told them this, just hope they listen, they seemed big on the groups. The private session worked well though. It was in a packed club with tones of different groups going at once. That took some adjusting to, until now my training has been in the basement of a massage parlour with just one other person. It was quite an adjustment to walk through fields of people hitting pads and training. Interesting though, I wish I wasn’t so nervous at first, I would have watched what was going on around me more. But it was a new place, in a crowd, working with an instructor I had only known for a minute and it was so hot out I was already dripping sweat. I was just focused on the task at hand.

We got going pretty quickly, didn’t take much time to change. The change room was pretty nice, small but clean and comfortable. I stepped out with a black tank top over my sports bra, deciding to be more modest at least until I get a feel for things. I think on the form I signed earlier that I put “Weight training, BDSM experience” under “Hobbies, interests, skills…” and am not sure if I should have been that open even. But they seemed fine with it. But it’s the truth, and I don’t lie.

Anyways, point is that we got started pretty quickly. I told her I had some experience, but it has been a little over a month since I last actively trained (some shadowboxing, but weight training/ cardio was really my focus) and we got started. I learned that I’m great at skipping rope, as long as I don’t think about it. It’s odd, but the first few minutes of skipping rope (alternating feet, raising my knees or bending at them) went great so long as I didn’t think about where my feet where. Regardless, I hadn’t skipped rope in about ten years and it was fun. It is amazing how the sweat starts going immediately. Push ups followed, and my training paid off here. Actually it was remarkable how much stamina and strength I’ve gained lately. Sit ups, squats, and this sorta jumping push up. Where I’d do jumping jacks, then fall to the ground, do a push up and leap back onto my feet. That one took some getting used to, but I think I started to get the hang of it.

I was rusty on my technique, and that’s what we practiced. For an hour, every part of my punches and kicks was broken down and critiqued. I swear if I hear “turn your hip in” one more time tonight I’m going to deliver the perpetrator a very well practiced roundhouse (with a lot of power coming in from my hip as I pivot too). I know it will take a lot of time, and suddenly Loup Garrou training every day, all day for two years to enter the ring seems amazingly realistic (‘Santa Olivia’ by Jacqueline Carey. Quick read, beautiful protagonist, solidified her as my favourite author. Also it’s good to have rolemodels, even Tat. I write her not as myself, but often I find myself writing her with qualities I wish to emulate. Being an ass kicking tranny heroine/ guardian and all). Basically, right now, I have to be conscious of so many aspects of a punch or kick. Back straight, power from the hips (not the arms), pivot just enough on the right foot, keep tall, hands up and return to protect myself, hips square, look at my target (while turning my body), rotate wrist, keep wrist rigid (you’ll learn this one quickly, failure to keep a stiff wrist will mean some very bad pain. And then you have to keep striking on it, I wasn’t about to give up). If I focused on one, I often neglected another and it was incredibly frustrating/ challenging to figure out. However, I’m still beginning and I’ll be shadowboxing at home more now since I have a regular training schedule up.

My trainer, a woman was very nice. Patient, but I think you would need to be. Good sense of humour, I felt comfortable around her. When she was explaining the importance of striking with power from my hip, she tried to give an analogy. She tried “like swinging a baseball bat” at first, then thought for a moment and told me, “Like you’re swinging a whip.” That cleared it up. I don’t know if it was intentionally or not, but we had a good laugh about it once the connection from my brief time with a whip connected to striking an opponent. I think towards the end, I got the hang of it. I believe that all my strength training, psychologically while I’ve trained my core muscles a lot (and my balance and strength was greatly improved); I might have focused too much on power from my arms. It’s just a habit I’ll need to break, and there was a series where I hit nearly every mark. She also looked down and told me to strike from my shin and not the “small, breakable bones in your feet” when my feet was visibly red from striking the pad. I fixed that though, mostly it was just positioning. It’ll take so much more practice to do, and it’s just one of many kicks. But the hip thing, I started being conscious when I was striking from it and tried to feel the same thing every time. It gave me some reference for when I did or didn’t hit my mark.

This long session, where sweat pooled at my feet (and trying to wipe it off, just had me wiping my face with a sweaty arm), felt incredible. My stamina has improved, it really showed how much my strict gym regiment has helped me. I would have been aching and out of breath, and I was months ago when I started. Now, I could have just kept going. She was surprised when I powered through another round of push-ups, sit-ups and squats. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, I had just gotten through an hour of having every part of me critiqued and I have a very long way to go; but it felt good. We do these things, not because they are easy but because they are hard. (I always liked that JFK quote)

Admittedly once we finished, the only thing I could think about was how badly I needed a shower. Home was close by, so I just walked back and rushed into a nice hot one. Now I smell of strawberries, and it’s all good. Have another session next week, looking forward to it.

Now sitting here, thinking it over. I think I am a bit overwhelmed. I wish to compete, and it’s a long way to do so. And I worry that I don’t have the coordination to pull off these moves flawlessly, while ensuring someone doesn’t land a blow on me. I am excited, and did wish I had some time in their boxing ring. “A journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step.” but dear Goddess is that a long road. That said, doing this makes me feel good. Going to the gym, becoming stronger, becoming more adept physically, makes me feel good. So I want to continue with this, who knows where it’ll go. I had a friend say I could use prize money (should I ever get to that level… well someday I will. I’ve set a goal) to build a temple. Who knows, certainly a nice thought. The cute Tranny boxer fighting to breathe new life into her faith. Oh, on the subject of faith, my instructor was a cute Asian woman whose outfit and hand to hand skills reminded me of Fayth from ‘Mirror’s Edge’. She certainly knew her stuff, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she could end me in two rounds (my pain tolerance could carry me for one at least).

Alright, so I had a good time. Came home, drank a ton of water. Wolfed down dinner too. I could not get enough, and am still starving so I’m going to go make something to eat. It is strange. When leaving the gym or a kickboxing session, I want three things. Sex, beer and food. I don’t know why, aside from maybe the fact that I have so little testosterone in my body (historically, transsexuals were purposefully kept at the minimum testosterone levels, and I wonder if I should take some T supplements now that I don’t have testicles. Maybe my level dropped too low…) and working out increases the amount of testosterone in my body. Perhaps it’s just my body reacting to a sudden surge of sex hormone.

Alright, completely worn out now. Had a nice melontini at dinner and it was nice to see Dad. Going to go relax, and just let my body recover from two days of training. (My back in particular, I could really use a massage…)

Ciao for now,
- Jade

posted by Jade Castillo
Tags: BDSM, Cybeline, Jacqueline Carey, kickboxing, Santa Olivia, The Great Goddess
Filed under: Jade's Diary

Included in the photo:

- 2 Riding Crops
- Nylon Cane
- 18″ paddle w/ holes
- 2 Wrist cuffs
- 2 Nipple clamps
- Bondage rope
- 2 Practical use collars
- Fashion choker
- Leather leash
- Tickler in the form of a red rose
- 4 quick release clasps

posted by Jade Castillo
Filed under: Jade' Kinks

Been thinking a lot about the future lately. Suppose, I’ve had time. Especially now that I finally got my year, impressing one psychology professor. Truthfully been up and down. Still dealing with things. It won’t let go, and has been resurfacing. I had a conversation with a friend who has dealt with PTSD longer than I, she strongly suggested going back to therapy. So that’s what I’m going to do. Honestly it’s not like it’s anything out of the ordinary. Been in therapy for a little more than half my life. (12 or so years) I wish this was gone. It interrupted a dinner party. Just, I was sitting, and looking behind me. That there was someone behind me. Hard to describe, but I found myself sitting on a staircase with my back pressed up against a wall, just so I could put my mind somewhat at ease. I still have difficulty, but I’ll get there. Just emotionally twisted.

But the future, what I started writing this for. I like that I can picture it. Since my mother has come back for a month, we’ve gotten talking. For some reason when talking about a new condo at the distillery district and how it would be a good place to raise kids. Got me thinking about ten years down the line, maybe a bit sooner. I picture, either a nice condo in Toronto (if it were at the distillery district kids could run through the cobblestone streets and it’s a private, safe area), or a home in maybe Stratford, Ontario. Married, to a wife and Mistress. Adopted daughter, Rose (already have a name, love it. Timeless but holds up in modern times). Basically working from home with my private therapy practice, writing and self-publishing novels on the side (maybe with many a story being told about Tatjyana and the other people of Kolybel). Being able to be home when Rose comes home from school and when my wife returns from work. Able to care for the nest we have, honestly I could see myself happy in the house-wife role. Even if I was still working. But I like the idea of being there for those around me and tending to things. I like that image. Think about it sometimes. Wonder if it’ll happen, maybe or maybe not. Truthfully I think I’ll feel less overwhelmed when I have my masters of Social Work. Sometimes I just wonder what might happen, how I’ll think back at this time.

I think I’ve been feeling a bit isolated. Haven’t been going out as much as I should. I have a strict gym schedule, but most people keep to themselves so mostly other than that it’s just family. Not that there’s anything wrong with that- well, maybe. I think things will pick up in September, but I’m wondering if I’ve fallen back a bit on the “Get out, be in crowds, and interact with people” side of the healing process.

On an entirely different subject, my order came in. I figured it was time to start stocking up on my own BDSM gear, so I ordered a few necessities. I had wanted to buy a few things earlier but wasn’t given the option. Damn, since I wasn’t allowed to buy a phenomenal riding crop/ paddle hybrid which I have very very fond memories of being tortured with. I did pick up a beautiful 18″ paddle with holes, a long cane, nipple clamps, a fashion collar, and a practical violet leather collar, leash, a second riding crop (I like leashes and riding crops, I suspect I’ll have a collection of each by the time the future above rolls around). Also some clips, bondage rope, and a really cute feather tickler in the form of a red rose. It was so adorable I couldn’t resist and it’ll go well if I ever do a Phedre cosplay. So I’m quite happy. The paddle hits like a bitch, and that’s excellent. I’m admiring its handiwork from a test I did on myself earlier, deep deep red marks. Love those. I even had a little webcam demonstration at my long-distance-Domme’s request. I think just easing back into things, and the fact that I own some of my own stuff feels good right now.

In terms of my Long-distance-Domme, had a bit of a scare today. I told her I would just be out for a few hours, and ended up being out until into the night. It’s funny, I tried a lot to let her know where I was (texting apparently is very unreliable), and when I came home the first thing I did was get in contact with her. I like her, she’s been good to me. Many people have. I just, like how this woman gets into my head. I knew I found someone interesting long before she told me she in a small way identified with Melissande Sharazzai… (And that stirred a part of me). But I realize that the connection is there, and I like it. But it was sweet, that she worried about me. I’ve already put a system so I can tell her if I’m running late because of the scare tonight. Not sure what to say. Maybe I’m saying that she’s helped me a great deal and I hope I can help her out as much too. And that we seem to have a bond. Honestly when I’ve been having difficulty lately, the thought of being able to curl up by her bed is attractive. I like my nest here, maybe I’m just starting to reach out for human contact again. I think that’s a good sign. But certainly, I’ve become quite fond of her. It’s amazing the bond that can develop over such a long distance, that my being late to come home can have such an effect. I’m sure it’s being studied, but I like it. I meet very interesting people.

Also I know she reads this, so hello Ma’am.

Quiet night. Still haven’t gotten back to writing, but I can feel it’s close. Things are starting to form in my mind again and I’d like to sprint forward. I have quite a bit of the novel planned, it’s just this immediate part which is the problem. Although I’m certain that when this depression and PTSD symptoms came back stronger, that writing always takes a hit. So I’ll go back to therapy, keep exploring things with my friend and keep talking and I’m really greatful for everyone for their patience and support in these matters… I think it’ll return when my mind is clear again. Not sure I’ll hit the deadline a year from now, but I don’t want to rush. I’m certainly pressing forward in one way or another. Maybe my second tattoo will be based upon its completion, fitting that my ink reflects meaningful literature in my life. I’ve had my marque for a year now, still love it every day. Taking good care of it too, it’s still deep and black.

I think, in these times, just to handle what I need. Rest up for school starting again. Remember that the Goddess loves me, She’s certainly shown it in the people around me and my fortunes during this period. I’m emotional, I’m up and down, wavering, but even when I feel disconnected from Cybele I know She is always with me. Anyways, I’ll get through this. It’s just hard. It’s like something’s gripped me and won’t let go. It might loosen up sometimes, but it’s still there. And I’m just feeling it squeeze my arms right now, so that it’s just hard to ignore. I hope therapy works, I really do. I probably shouldn’t have left it, but live and learn.

Ciao for now,
- Jade

posted by Jade Castillo
Tags: BDSM, Cybele, The Great Goddess
Filed under: Jade' Kinks, Jade's Diary

Updates have staggered a bit, as I haven’t been feeling too well of late. Also I’m still dealing with things emotionally, and StarCraft 2 came out. So I’ve been busy tinkering with that. I’m actually going to FRAPS my games and upload them to YouTube, so I’ll be providing links of my 5 placement matches shortly. It just takes time to encode and upload. I won 4/5 matches and was placed in Platinum. The one I lost would be ZvZ, I suck at ZvZ. Here’s the first one!

So, I’m doing alright. I can certainly pull off quite a few more push-ups than I used to. I’ve gone from 2 to 15 in one go, and from 0 to 2 unassisted chin-ups. And Julian’s been helping me in some fun domination games. It’s a bit frustrating, back to distance. But it’s an itch I need to scratch and I adore her. She has the workings of a wonderful Domme, and I envy her trip to a leather market today. I miss those. Ah well. Been thinking of picking up some gear sometime soon, I’m sitting on a bit of cash and am just deciding what to do with it. It’s either going out and stocking up on BDSM gear, or a nVidia 470GTX graphics card, I can’t decide… Both of them would be wonderful in their own way.

On the subject of what Julian and I have been doing, I recently did a r/gonewild post on Reddit. NSFW and all that, here’s a link to the gallery. When I’m feeling better I might take requests. I intended to sooner, but became unwell recently. Ah well, I’m actually doing alright now. Better, now that I remembered there’s cake in the fridge. I’ll have to get some after this.

As for The Lady General, I took a brief vacation after writing one of the pivotal chapters. It was emotional, and I don’t want to give anything away. But I never thought I would feel the loss of a character, like I did then. I’m alright now. I suppose when you live in the world, it tends to affect you. The novel and its characters, and the world, occupy a lot of my thoughts and while it’s wonderful, tragedy is really tragedy. I hope it translates, but I believe it will. It was meant to be sad. Also as it’s a major point in the novel, I’m now coming up with storylines for the following chapters. I have a few great ideas, I just need to thread them all together. But I’ll begin writing that shortly. I want to portray Tatjyana as a woman starting to change, and now walking the path which will take her to become the heroine the world needs. The last chapter really was the unofficial start of the woman the world will come to know, instead of the courtesan who never wanted to get involved.

So, cake time. Enjoy the SC, enjoy the armature porn, and if I end up acquiring some good gear (anyone know a good fetish shop that delivers in Canada?) I’ll have a few more posts and pictures. Taking it easy, healing, getting stronger, writing. Same old, same old. But truthfully it’s nice, it’s peaceful and I’m doing alright.

Ciao for now,

- Jade

posted by Jade Castillo
Tags: StarCraft 2, The Lady General
Filed under: Jade's Diary, Starcraft

I’m six years old today! Well, six in tranny years. Woo.

Dinner!

Honestly, going through a quiet period as I might have said. But I am learning a new skill. Tonight thanks to Julian’s help I made crepes with strawberry jam filling! The crapes were made from eggs, flour, cream. Nothing complicated, but it took a while to get the batter the right consistency for frying. It took a few failed crepes, but about half way through the batter I managed to thin it to the right consistency and it all came together quite nicely. So I took another photo, still kinda proud that I’m learning to cook. It’s a really nice thing my friend is helping me with and I can do it from the comfort of my apartment. They tasted pretty good too. Think I could still have thinned them out a bit more, but overall not bad considering I hadn’t done anything like it before.

Not sure what to do today, but it’s still young. Might go to the gym, might not. If I don’t I’ll go Sunday. It’s funny, I thin these days are doing me a lot of good. Still healing, but it’s keeping me in a good mood. I’ve started doing all my cooking from home, going to the gym regularly, enough time to relax. It’s nice, helps. I am in the best shape of my life, and that’s been a great feeling.

Right now I’m writing, the Krone City portion of the novel is reaching its peak and I’m on the chapter which marks a major turning point for the protagonist. It is difficult though. A friend of hers dies, and originally when I wrote the part she did not get a lot of time and was only mentioned. When I started this draft, I gave her a larger part in order to help the story develop and because she was interesting. Now I feel bad about what’s coming. Out of the entire cast she’s the least deserving of such a stupid death, but like they say, if it’s best for the story it must be done. I just feel a bit sad to loose her. Also contemplating the story farther into the future, more good people will die. Although I believe that when Tatjyana (our heroine of this story) triumphs, it’s all the sweeter given the sadism and challenges she’s bested. It’s just sad. I’ve mostly been in Tat’s headspace, but trying on other character masks, you get to know them. And she really doesn’t deserve it, and really that’s part of why it has to be her. Just interesting the things you can come across.

Also started watching through StarTrek: TNG, haven’t seen this show in years. It’s pretty good, still holds up nicely. Data’s so cute.

posted by Jade Castillo
Tags: The Lady General
Filed under: Jade's Diary

Spaghetti with carbonara sauce. Thanks to Julian for the inspiration and recipe. First time actually combining ingredients and cooking parts of a whole separately and then combining. Basically it was spaghetti with a sauce of eggs, cream, Parmesan cheese, a little black pepper and bacon. Tasted pretty good and wasn’t too hard. Anyways, that’s it for now just proud of doing so.

posted by Jade Castillo
Filed under: Jade's Diary

Best Game:
Germany v Uruguay, 3rd Place Match

Germany v Uruguay

Canadians can watch it here. This was a surprise, I wasn’t expecting the game to be so close. What started off looking like an easy German win turned into a back and forth ending in 2-3, with a final kick in the final seconds which nearly turned it over to extra minutes. Despite being the 3rd place match (and thus even victory is defeat), both teams really ended their tournaments spectacularly. Aside from Spain, I’m not sure I’d seen Germany trail for a time and it was a brilliant comeback from 2-1. Lots of excitement, some great shots and it was great to see my favourite team play one more match. So yes, I’m biased in choosing these matches, but it was a great game.

Runner-up Best Game:
North Korea v Brazil, Group Stage

N. Korea v Brazil

Canadians can watch it here. This will be the only runner-up entry, but I wanted to include it because of the emotional impact. Despite N. Korea never finding success in any of its other games, the players really gave it their all here. I was making relentless fun of them before they played this game, and after watching N. Korea v Brazil I found myself cheering for them in their other games. Alright, there’s probably a horrible fate that awaited their return, but I guess finding the good in how they showed the world that they can throw down with the best of them. The fact that they managed to take a goal off Brazil and keep it close should be a victory for N. Korea’s team.

Hottest Player:
Miroslav Klose (GER)

Miroslav Klose

Look at him! I don’t have much to say other than I’d go straight for this man so fucking fast. Great hair, nice eyes, love the stubble, cute ears, and you know he has stamina. He’s also German, which is a plus. He’s like cute and hot at the same time, it’s glorious. He’s 6 feet tall, so meets that requirement. Also a kick ass high scoring player, so there’s that. Over all hottest player for me, the rest just didn’t come close.

Also in general, the German team being generally a bunch of young guys in their 20′s were pretty hot. Even Ozil who was cute in his own way. Schweinsteiger can’t look any more German and is pretty  much straight up hot. Klose just has a lot more personality.

Best Injury:
De Jong’s F+MK against Alonso

F+MK

Square in the chest, with cleats. Making the masochist turned on by knives and needle play cringe. This really should have been a red card. Even unintentional, someone just got kicked in the chest with a cleat. Fortunately Spain went on to win it, but still, damn… At least Alonso seems alright and he’ll have an awesome bruise to show for it.

Best Goal:
Van Bronckhorst vs Uruguay

I’m letting Reddit decide this one as there usually are so many goals, I can’t decide. So here’s a YouTube of a goodie! Just a beautiful kick all around, and a beautiful distance. This is the one which moved the Netherlands into the finals, sadly to just be beaten.

Best Non-Goal:
The Reverse-Wembley (GER v ENG)

Suck it, England

What looks like an awful call is really karma balancing itself in disguise. The Reverse-Wembley was Germany’s payback to England after the 1966 World Cup finals where England hit the crossbar and did not score, but was awarded the point anyways. Germany went on to trounce England 4-1 in the 2010 version. Honestly, they should award England the goal, so technically Germany went on to trounce England 4-2.

Best Non-Win:
USA Defeats England 1-1

Suck it, England

From the start, English goalkeeper fucks up and leads the USA to tie England 1-1. However given the skill and prestige the England team was thought to have, and given how badly the USA was expected to do, it felt like a victory. Even if England fucked it up for themselves. Probably the first event to start so many jokes, you could just feel an entire nation sigh and facepalm.

Best Mascot:
Paul the Psychic/Magic Octopus

Paul the Magic Octopus

I’ve never seen a nation turn against a single animal so quickly as when Germany lost to Spain. Paul managed a 100% success rate predicting/ magically causing world cup victories involving Germany. Paul even managed to predict Germany’s strange 0-1 loss to Serbia of all things. Recently Paul predicted the outcome of the Spain v Netherlands game correctly, either proving psychic powers or a hidden affinity for Spain. Which is a good thing given how Paul has been offered asylum there after sending his team to loose against Spain. The Spanish government even offered to send a team to protect Paul from angry Germans who feel like their loss was all due to an octopus.

Now that all of this is over with I’m looking forward to 2014 where the young German team will have matured, and they’ll be playing on pure, untouched-by-vuvuzela Brazilian soil.

posted by Jade Castillo
Tags: World Cup
Filed under: Jade's Diary

Got inspired to write a one-off monologue of one of the characters in the novel I’m writing. Not sure why, but I just got an idea and sat down and two hours later finished. I might make a couple of these for the supporting cast, short stories of before they met The Lady General’s protagonist and include it at the end. Just fun to work with. This is written from the perspective of one of the novels two villains, and a character who I’m planning to have a place throughout the trilogy. Enjoy!

The PDF version is Here

—————————————————————————————–

“”My Gift to You”
By: Jade Dawn Castillo (c)2010

January 9^th, 1863

She’s young, beautiful, with a smile that lights up the dingy room she slaves in. Carrying pints for unappreciative men and having the strength to ignore their gaze. I like her, and I hate that I do so. Someone please knock her to the ground, ravage her, destroy that innocence in her eyes because if you don’t, I will. I’ll snap her in two and watch the life drain from those eyes, while she continues to breathe. So much like all the others, so much like me. I was the first but would not be the last, not by design but by the need which I cannot silence.

She comes to me, passes me my drink. Wonders what a woman such as I is doing in a den of men. I smile, show her my pearly teeth and open my eyes to look into hers. I am barely aware of the drink, only her, only the life in those eyes. And while I reply with a simple “Thank you.”, the need within me swells and begs. Her eyes linger on mine and for a moment all I want to do is shout at her to run, to get away from me and not give in to my intensity. It is barely the beginning of our evening together and already she is so far gone.

One second, two, three… Five seconds before she breaks contact. My smile has turned to a grin and I lean over my glass, stroking it as if my fingers were running along her neck. She’s lingering too long. Run, please! The world has not seen what I am, she has no warning and no idea. Why didn’t I run out that door? Why did I let them take me?! Then maybe the life in those eyes would have seen tomorrow.

She’s nervous, flustered and without an idea as to why. I pay generously for my glass, she looks me in the eyes while she thanks me. I hush the voices inside and speak so softly, lovingly. “Go back to work, we will talk later when you bring me another pint.” It works, I only barely know why. She gives a nervous nod and heads back to the pack. I sit, watching her leave before she is lost. For now I hold the pint to my lips, wanting to take a sip. They say it dulls the mind, but it does not stand a chance against me. I have drank myself near death and it never has done a thing for me. I drink slowly, the night is so young and I want to enjoy the sight of her for just a couple more hours.

The men stay long, that makes me angry. Everything has of late, it is why I am here. I hate them, I hate the taste of beer and I truly hate the walls which enclose me. An animal in its pen, not this bar but this city. This continent. World. I may leave here anytime I wish, but it never leaves me.

She is angry too, loosing her composure when one of them grabs her. Please, knock her to the ground, cause her to bleed and destroy that look in her eyes. He doesn’t, and it only becomes worse. I whisper lovingly to her from the other side of the bar, “Do not worry, everything will be better soon.” And I believe it, I believe it every time. I believed them when they told me. When they took me. Run, please run from this place. You won’t, you’ll believe everything they say and soon you’ll believe everything. At least I won’t be alone anymore, and I believe myself when I whisper it.

Later still and she still works, still slaves away. She needs to, but I wish she didn’t. I wish she didn’t tell me anything about her. I don’t want to know about her. I don’t want to know what I am about to take. It is better when I know nothing, to reduce them to it from such a place is easier… But decisively less fun. It is not the beer when I laugh, she notices and smiles to me. I smile back, lovingly. She is caught by the intensity of my eyes and the warmth of my smile. She likes me, even knows my name. I told her, she deserves to know. She barely thought it strange when I refused to hear hers, I told her to go back to work and she did. She wanted to stay with me, she did not want to go back to the pack, to the maw. I can help her with that, I can be a force for good in her life. I believe myself when I whisper this.

Patrons stumble drunkenly into the fine powdering of snow. A strange sight in this city. I never saw the snow, it was always so hot in my cage. I twisted about like an animal, waiting for ice or water. I barely realize that I have started to consume my booze thinking of it. To reach for a glass of water, to submit and admit defeat. When I drank, I did not feel numb. Only that I had surrendered. I always do. And the more I do so the more I enjoy it. The more I relish it. I drank in that bitter piss and loved it. Felt good, I remember now. It felt so good. I really must share this feeling with her, she deserves to know how good it can feel.

She’s abandoned like me, poor thing. Left to clean up as the sun threatens to rise. I am the only one left to give her company. To be good to her. I would be good to her. She wipes off the bar, looking to me on occasion. It time for the show, and tonight we have a master puppeteer and her marionette. I never liked an audience, it is whisper quiet and puts me at ease. For the first time in months I feel free, I tell myself that I am and I believe it.

I answer her question before she speaks it, that I was merely in search of a quiet drink and became spellbound by her. Oddly, they always believe me. She must have had a dozen lines of that sort that night, but I am different. I am the raven haired beauty across the floor with those eyes with the spark. It is a spark I was not born with, it was seared into me. Twisted and earned, developed much like I was. But unlike their intentions, I grew not to be what they wanted, I grew to be what they were. Were, I wish that were the case. Someday, maybe someday, I’ll find them and show them how their little Fiela grew-up. I am nearly forty now, it has been so long.

She knows that I am different, but cannot comprehend why. She does not like women in the way in which I speak to her, but she likes me. I know what they all think. I know what goes through those dying minds, that it is strange to come to desire me but it feels just so right. I believe that I am doing good works. I believe there is a purpose that they find me so enchanting.

She is beautiful, reminds me of myself when I was that age. I tell her so, she blushes. I tell her she loves all the attention she gets, and in that moment she does. I speak, softly but with authority, softly to pass through her fickle defenses and strike at her being. My eyes do the rest, my spark, their gift to me and forged over twelve long years. Someday I’ll show them what I have become, I wonder if for a brief moment they’ll be proud of me. I will make it so.

Time for the second act, ladies and gentlemen. In which our marionette comes to see the puppeteer who pulls her strings, just as a smile is pulled across her face. “I never expected to become so captivated.” “I was only passing through.” “I am very wealthy.” Finally, “May I escort you home?” They always ask why, and I answered her question before she spoke it. “A random act of kindness.” The extent of which she does not know. We nobles are known for our eccentricities, being one is so advantageous. I do love my husband, everything he is and everything he has brought me. May the peace of my household never be broken. For at least in my home, I am the one true council and in small part I may be free.

I love the cold, it always brings out the warmth in people. She knows it is improper, but I open my arms while sitting in my coach and take her into them. It is just, it is right. Look at how she longs for this. Look at how lonely she is. Don’t you see? I did her a service! Get your damn eyes off of me, I am what I am because you let me. You didn’t run when they tried to take you, now I live with your decision. I live with taking their hand, we believed them! Why didn’t I run?!

She lives in the hole, imagine that. A diamond such as hers does not deserve to be there. My driver, my good obedient driver doesn’t have orders to go there regardless. She would agree to return to my home, they all do. I hush her when she tells me she wants to ensure her brother is up and ready for school. Do not tell me these things! I never forget, I will never forget she was putting him through even the most basic education. I put my finger to her lips, caress under her chin and tell her to look at me. That she will come for warm coco at my home, and that during this random act of kindness there would be a fresh pound note for her company.

She thanks me for my generosity, I believe I am very much so. It is time to wrap myself around her, whisper in her ear, tell her how beautiful she is. I wonder if she ever did anything like this before. She believes it is like all the other times. New to being with a woman, even a Fiela, but I do not let her know that fact. I stop her from pulling the laces from my skirt, I tell her that I do not expect such service from her. Not yet. I do not tell her that, I really should. To place the seeds of doubt, instead she believes she has won the lottery. To be chosen by such a generous noblewoman. That I am, though not in the way she expects.

It is so cold, and I feel her shiver as I hold her in my arms. My driver opens the coach door and a chilly gust of snow blows inside. Snowflakes land gently on her hair in the aftermath. I cup her chin and pull her up to look at me, “Come inside.” The life in those eyes is so trusting, so beautiful, I scream to silence it. To share my gift with her. They would be proud of me, I only perfected their life’s work.

I carry her in a fur cloak, as if I am holding the child I can never have. She is tired. Tired from her work. She is lost, in my eyes. My smiling eyes with the spark I know she has become obsessed with. “Hush, you will be home soon…” She believes me, and I speak the truth. Her home is now my estate and I was about to pass its threshold.

She is thinking, why this woman? What a generous woman. Why do I feel so cold? In these nights they are not aware of it, they tell themselves it is the chill outside. They do not feel that they are slipping away from this world. At least she would soon rest eternal with me, until she was no longer of service.

She asks me why we are not going to the den, I tell her mine is in the rock of the mountain. That many nobles prefer the privacy of the stone. Feel at home, my puppet. You live under the stone, you should feel right at home.

I lay her to rest in my fur cloak nestled in a cozy leather chair. The one they all come to in the end. It is only a matter of minutes now, I tell her to rest. That I have told the chef to prepare her coco. She has but however long it takes that puppet to do so, maybe a little more. I sit opposite her and as I watch her smile to me, caught in my web, the darkest part of me smiles back. For once, I feel right, this is right. She would enjoy this, I know it. I am being a good person.

The chef gives the coco not to her but to me, placing it on a table to the side and promptly leaving. I stand and go to it, telling her to sit tight and that I only want to taste it. I lie and she believes me. I try to tell myself that it is the truth, I even stick my finger in and do so, just to make me feel a little better. She cannot see what I do, how I seal her fate. So she does what I hate her to do, she tells me about her home. Her young brother, her boss, how her childhood friend will never believe this story. I tell her to hush, loosing my patience. I tell her that she should not tell strangers all of these things. I am a monster, I know I am. Please, hush and let me do good in this world.

She will only taste the chocolate, my drug dissolves instantly. Not my favourite method but I did promise her this. I keep my promises, which means that I kept my promise to make her happy. To do good to her. Even kept my promise to return her home, it is right if her home is mine is it not?

I crave what is to come. I do not let it show. A steady hand passes her the plate and smiling lips tell her, “It is very good.” I left the door open behind me, she can still run. Staying here is her choice! She should not trust strange women she meets! She shouldn’t have looked into my eyes! I tell myself to hush, to settle, that it would all feel better soon. Much like she needs this to be happy. I want to make her so.

She’s quiet, enjoys her treat as I casually stroke her hair. I watch intently for the first sign. It comes moments after, a pause and a strange look to her eyes. Almost as if she wanted to fall asleep for just the briefest of moments. Then comes the second part, and I need to take the plate from her. She barely notices, becomes confused. Her body is resisting, but I know she will not win in the end. I always win in the end. She’ll thank me for it, I’ll make her do so.

Then she asks, so confused. What is happening to her, why does she feel so drowsy. As the curtain falls on her life, I bend over and reach out my hand to her. “Everything’s going to be alright, just take my hand.”

In an hour she lays with eyes wide open, restrained on my table, tubes running in and out of her arm with my drugs flowing. I have perfected their life’s work, I am their better. I would share their gift with the world. Again, and again, and again. It is my purpose. She’s awake, but not aware. She is breathing, but not alive. I have stripped her of the pain she felt, the pain of knowing she would have to return to slave in such a place. The pain of being under threat by so many boorish men. The pain of a solitary existence. “With a friend who would abandon you. With a brother leeching off of you.” I ease her into it, her mind pumped full of so much that every suggestion is law, that every instruction is purpose.

But no, no, she can’t know. I toy with her at first, as the drugs flow I twist her world around until she knows the truth. Her voice sounds like all the rest, monotone, quiet, obedient. I smile, just like so many of them did with me. Knowing I could not run, and increasingly lived in a world of their creation, increasingly the only world I have known. But I can go deeper than that, my gifts allow me to create something so much more than that. To sculpt rock, to shape a mind like putty. I want to do it, I need to do it. I am their better and would show this gift to the world. The one I control. For that moment I am free.

There’s resistance in those eyes, still. She’s strong, I wonder if I will know stronger. But they all succumb in the end. It is for the best. After all, “You have no memories of family, in fact trying to think about anyone besides me is so difficult. It is as if you are trying to read a message from an entirely white wall.” White walls surrounded me, they would surround her. She would take refuge in them, like I did for such a long time. Only the walls of my construction are far stronger. “The walls of this estate are all you know. I know you are trying to remember which city this is, what a city is, where the water from the falls goes. It truly goes nowhere, and you do not care. After all, this property is an island and there is really nothing else…” It is how I have always done it, filled with chemicals of my design her mind is so open, it is if I am writing her like I write this page. Pure white paper as I draw my black ink across it.

In the closing act, ladies and gentlemen, the marionette looks to her puppeteer for purpose and is given one. The only purpose she has ever known. “If you know how to serve drinks, how to clean and how to take orders for a meal, but you do not know of any world outside; what must you have been doing here?” The blank mind searches for answers, and it reaches out to my voice for an answer. “You serve here, you serve the lady of this house. After all, it only makes sense given all you know, and how you have never been anywhere else. In fact, you do it with a smile. It is a good thing I am here to guide you, have you forgotten how you enjoy it here? No, you haven’t. You love it here…” I am to make her happy, it makes me smile. I am doing good work, she’ll be very happy here. And I do really need two serving girls, one simply cannot handle the load. It will make my husband happy, I am a very good wife.

I can see those eyes, those beautiful eyes as the life begins to drain. Fade. A lifetime of memories is replaced with a lifetime of blissful service. Unchanging, “Just as you want. It is too dangerous to look elsewhere, you have no idea what lies out there.” And readily accepting of, “I am Lady Reyna Molina, your mistress. And I love you just he way you are. You are perfect. You are so happy…” As her mind twists and turns to my will the light continues to fade. “You are such a pretty doll. I am so glad I made you! You even look like a real person, I am that good…”

I can taste it, I can feel it. The light is so weak in those eyes, so faded, it cannot fight. I catch myself staring into them, feeding off of the fading life, knowing I am doing the right thing. Proud to share my gift. She is mine, she is perfect, and I have made her happy. My gift has done so much good in this world!

I hate to see it end, but I need to do so. I inject one last drug, to confirm page with of writing and to inject life to my creation. I watch that body ever so gently move, twist, those eyes have not blinked in so long. So dry. They are about to. There they go! It is so beautiful, you really should see.

My doll blinks, gasps for a deep breath and I crawl on top of her, looking into those eyes. “Tell me, what are you?”

And in the moment as her twisted and programmed mind speaks those words I see the life leave those eyes. She tells me, “I am your doll, Mistress Molina.”

“And are you happy?”

And she tells me, “Yes.”

Release, sweet blissful release. Freedom over another, the power is beautiful and satisfying. A pleasured smile stretches across my face, and for the next few months I may breathe easier.

And yet, like the drugs and like the booze it will fade. It is wrong not to share your gift with the world, it is wrong not to make others happier. Truly, I am doing them a service. It would be wrong of me not to. I believe all of this. I believed it then, and I will believe it soon and every time after. To another take a girl by the hand and lead her to know what I am, and what they did. To know that I am better than they are, I am capable of what they were not.

At least, that is what I choose to believe. I know I’ll do it again. I know that brother probably starved, alone and afraid. Not knowing what is going on, sitting in bed, scared. Wondering why her parents would sell her to this place, wondering what is wrong with her. She took their hand! Wondering why they lied, when they said everything would be alright. It is not alright. She doesn’t know where she is, she doesn’t recognize those white walls. They tell her she is sick, but it is all she has ever known. They tell her they can fix her, and she believes them. She always believes them. She knows they will hurt her, that they hate her, that they do not care. That she won’t be happy. She clings to that identity as long as she can, to know that she is a little girl no matter what they say. And in the end surrender to them, to believe them, to let them twist and mold her. She is lost, scared, hateful of herself for now she must share the gift. Share all that she has ever known, as the world outside of those white walls became lost and she forgets her name. I never gave my dolls a name, for when I do they might want to pass it along. A little girl chose her name on the day she tore down the white walls. Even if they remain with her. That she can never leave. And the only thing she has ever known is to destroy, to wipe clean, to share what they did to her.

I was too weak, I am too weak. I do not stop it, I need to but I cannot. I need to press on, to inflict, to be back in control, to be free. After every one of these nights, when I look into those newly blank eyes, I wonder if anyone could stop this. To show me what I am, to beat this darkness inside. Is there anyone who walks this earth, with the strength to run?

at she is a little girl no matter what they say. And in the end surrender to them, to believe them, to let them twist and mold her. She is lost, scared, hateful of herself for now she must share the gift. Share all that she has ever known, as the world outside of those white walls became lost and she forgets her name. I never gave my dolls a name, for when I do they might want to pass it along. A little girl chose her name on the day she tore down the white walls. Even if they remain with her. That she can never leave. And the only thing she has ever known is to destroy, to wipe clean, to share what they did to her.

I was too weak, I am too weak. I do not stop it, I need to but I cannot. I need to press on, to inflict, to be back in control, to be free. After every one of these nights, when I look into those newly blank eyes, I wonder if anyone could stop this. To show me what I am, to beat this darkness inside. Is there anyone who walks this earth, with the strength to run?

posted by Jade Castillo
Tags: The Lady General
Filed under: The Lady General