Alekay

OOC: Hungover stories! The events of this story and what preceeded it are actually a bit older, I've just been too lazy to finish off and post it. >.>

As soon as Alex’s eyes opened, he was overcome with the urge to vomit.

A/N: Feedback is always welcome. :) Hope you enjoy reading!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

A/N: Feedback welcome, thanks for reading and enjoy!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Alex could feel eyes on his back.

The smell of bread filled the tiny house, if it could even be called a house. The shudders had been thrown open to the world, the rose-gold rays of dawn letting the dust shimmer in the sky like fool’s gold as it cast its glow on the flour-covered wooden table of the kitchen-corner. The ‘men’ of the house, small men though they be, had already left to fulfill their duties for the day, leaving their sisters behind to bicker amongst themselves, out of earshot and out of mind.

A/N: Still on the lookout for feedback (And maybe a proofreader?) if anyone wishes to give it (Either through in-game mail or PMing here). Hope you enjoy reading this.

A/N: Hello! If you're reading this, I'm looking for feedback, critique and comments on storywriting, like pace, tone, enjoyment. I haven't written in a long time and it's been more than a year since I'd done something for LotRO RP, and decided to pen up a multi-part story on this character's current plotline, so that I can get back into the habit of writing and improve my storytelling skills.

Any feedback I get is very very appreciated! It would help me a lot towards getting back into the flow of things!

A Tale of Two Lovers
A  Rather Spontaneous Play

​Alekay as the role of Winston Thornberry
​Claery as the role of Clara Lake
Steafan as the role of Steafan (Audience Member)
Audience as the role of the Audience

Kayrin smiled at the emerging stars, although they told her, she had steered the ship too much toward the South. She turned the tiller calmly, correcting their course. An Eglan steering a ship at the open sea. How wonderfully strange, she thought. Ameren or Sugar Plume as she liked to call her, appeared to be sleeping on the deck, she glanced at her briefly, imagining what sort of a woman she was.

I have never paid mind to how disquieting quiet could be.