W005 – Her Hanging

I always thought this was a cool concept; a way to escape hanging. I got the idea from a movie…”The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.” I don’t really remember it, but I do remember the metal tube.

I really want to rewrite this piece, and I might do it for my Creative Writing project. If I do, I’ll be sure to tell you how it goes.

Tehufn's Raw Compositions

This is adapted from my online Roleplay. All text is my own. This is how it would have played out if no one had helped her.

Chloe’s body swings three stories above the empty street. She hangs, suspended by a wire noose that digs into her neck. She looks dead, but is she? Blood runs down her shirt, dripping off of her black stripper boots into the streets below.

Her neck is tense, bulging tendons keeping the wire from cutting her circulation of completely.

In an instant, Chloe regains consciousness, as if coming back to life. She gags for a bit and then grabs the wire and pulls herself up, taking tension from her neck. She holds herself, trying to figure out where she is and what’s happening.

She cuts the wire from her neck, falling three stories, rolling and breaking one of her legs. She tries to scream, but…

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A Mess of Words on Chloe Rhye

I’ve created a mass of characters, in a similar world building vein to Pratchett’s Discworld. But out of all of them, I think my current “favourites” are Alexandre Jutt (shadow), Yaska May Däwngale (who may be my anima) and Chloe Rhye. Chloe is essentially a genius, but also a complete ditz who stumbles over her own sentences. She’s well read, but introverted and lacks formal education. I guess those are standard for her “type” though. Sort of.

I’m deeply interested in seeing how she reacts to the real world, as is her father, who sends her on a quest of sorts in her adolescence. Her young adulthood is where it really gets interesting for me though, and that’s the story I’ve been trying to write for over two years.

The coolest thing, I think, regarding Chloe is her potential as an individual, and her lazor eyes. I came up with lazor eyes being a sort of racial trait for the Solune when I was much younger (four or more years ago!), but now that I’ve begun to explore archetypes and symbolism as a young adult, I’m seeing a sort of meaning behind it. Chloe is possibly the most powerful user of lazor eyes/lazor plasma, and I think it has something to do with vision. Chloe, being a genius, is a visionary. In her youth, she doesn’t have a lot of control over it, and it emits passively out of her wounds. She avoids using her power because she doesn’t know what will happen. Later, she focuses it, and takes control. That is the character arc in The Solune Prince.

There’s a lot of symbolic importance to eyes, if you look back to the ancient gods Horus and Marduk. I don’t know where my subconscious finds it (although Jung would call it “The Collective Unconscious”), but I’m deeply interested in seeing what Chloe is capable of. Are you?

The Solune Prince is in progress…

Daniel Triumph.

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The Solune Prince: The Lussa Part3

The Solune Prince

Novella 1

Chapter 11: The Lussa Part3

Author’s Note: This chapter is dedicated to Someone; I wish you vision and persistence, as armed with these, luck becomes statistic and the world becomes a better place.


An hour passed.

Chloe got something for Alexander, then left her alone in her office.

Chloe Rhye walked the last few steps of the belltower’s flights. The spire was one of the tallest buildings in the city, third to the castle’s fourth tower, and the Royal Time Keeper’s building. The belltower was four storeys tall, and it looked down on the university and its inhabitants quietly, most of the time.

Chloe sat on the stone guardrail and thought about her position.

I have quite a list here—

She started to compile her information, but then the tower rang out. Ah, no… Chloe knew she would lose her train of thought if she waited for all nine chimes. She looked around. The stairs…there’s too many. What about the scaffolds?

Chloe looked over the edge of the tower at all sides. Old wooden beams stuck out a little more than two handlengths, partway down, at the base of where each ceiling went. They used to hold up the scaffolding, decades ago, but now they no longer supported anything. They would, however, put a layer of stone between her and the bell and shield her from most of the noise.

The bell went off a second time.


Chloe went to the south-facing side, the side where she was least likely to be seen and least likely to be yelled at, and she dropped her hips down off edge of the ledge. It was only a foot down to the first set of support beams. She lowered herself down with her arms,

This is a bad idea…

Chloe let go, falling nearly two cubits, then once her toes touched, she lowered herself down with her legs.

It hit for a third time.

Chloe sat, legs wrapped around the beam, leaning on the outer wall of the square tower. The bell was far quieter now.

So… a T-chart I guess…

Chloe compiled her list visually:

Category Person Role
Core Chloe (me!)


All roles (all academic roles, two-hand swords)
Core Alexandre Biokem, swords (Unknown)
Research ??? !!!
Guard Kent Two-hand swords

That’s, ah, I feel like we could use more people. I really do not, ah, I don’t want to have to focus on two things at once. And yet…who?

It seemed pointless. Almost none of the citizenry could had combat training, and all of the guard was busy with the reopening of the wall. I will just go home.

But Chloe didn’t go home. She sat on the edge of the beam and let her legs dangle in space.







You’re in a real PINCH Alexandre!

Get up!
I can see someone

Though my eyes are closed


Get up!

Alexandre awoke and saw the figure at her door. How haunting. She pushed the small blanket off of herself and stood. Where did that come from…I don’t have time to figure it out. Who is this here? The lights were unlit. Alex’s office had no windows, being in the interior portion of the building. It was very dark. Office dark has to be one of the worst types of dark.

The figure shifted as Alexandre stood up. It almost s poke, but Alex interrupted it.

“Do you need something?”

A woman. A girl, replied. “It would be unwise to follow Rhye to the Underside.”

Oh, we’re talking with vague ornate orature are we? Fine, two can play in that space.

“And yet,” Alex said to the pitch, “it would simultaneously be the wisest large-scale decision I’ve ever made.”

“Sh-She has enemies! It isn’t safe!”

“I am not safe here. I betrayed all my” Alexandre stopped to scoff, “all of my closest friends except for Finch. Isn’t it safer than my life here?”


“Yes, you!” Alexandre shouted.

She moved to the centre counter and let the lamp.

“Oh, what the hell, you’re that kid. Man, get out of here.”

The ‘kid’ blushed. “I can’t! This is my mission.”

Alexandre sighed and kicked her blanket back into the cupboard, closing the doors. She took one of her two chairs and impolitely threw it at her guest. Then she too the other and sat.

The chair hit the girl in the collar and bounced to the floor. “Ow!”

“Sit!” Alexandre again shouted.

She was obeyed.

“You’re a fool.”

“Wha!” The visitor’s blush deepened.

“Your wisdom is ass-backwards. Give it up.

“I can’t! It’s… I don’t know; it’s all I have.”

Alexandre sighed. “I just told you the same thing you said to me when you got here. I don’t want to hear hypocrisy.”

The visitor rubbed her collar. It was bruising.

“So, fool, what is your name?”


“Listen, youth, let me tell you something about the adult world, the world you have decided to interact with. No one listens to kids. Kids are stupid.”

Ammelia began to cry silently. Alexandre ignored it.

“There’s only one redeeming thing about a child. Do you know what it is Ammelia?”

“What,” Ammelia murmured.

“The fool foreruns the hero.”

Ammelia began to weep openly. Alexandre stood, walked past her, and exited the room. Ammelia considered leaving too, considered running away, but the convulsions from the weeping had exhausted her, and her leg was throbbing. Alexandre returned two minutes later, frowning. She closed the door behind her.

“The library is not open at this hour. We will use the other book instead…the manuscript of sorts. Here it is.” She walked to the far overhead cupboard and opened it. One of the shelves, right above the cups, had been repurposed as a bookshelf. There were only four books on it. She took one, a black book, and flipped until she saw a memorized page number, and read aloud.

“A curious combination of typical trickster motifs in the…er, his fondness for sly jobs and malicious pranks, his powers as a shape-shifter, his dual nature, half animal half divine, his exposure to all kinds of tortures and last – but not least – his approximation to the figure of a saviour.” She reflexively added the citation, “(Jung 255)”

Ammelia’s crying became loud and violent, and she stood and ran no around the experimentation table no no and into Alexandre’s arms. Damn it.

Alex closed her eyes and sighed. Being rather tall; four full cubits, or six imperial feet; Ammelia was able to take refuge in her neck. Her head felt gross and wet.

As the Lussa calmed, Alexandre let out a sigh. It was finally coming to an end, although, it wasn’t as bad as our first meeting.

“You’re blushing!” Ammelia was looking up at her. She has returned to her usual state of idiocy.

“No!” Alexander said. It was less a protest and more an exclamation of disappointment in her body.

Alexandre sighed, surgically removed the now much calmer girl from herself, and sat down.

“I’m assuming you don’t read, or I would lend this to you.”

Ammelia ambled around the tiny space. She said, “Why would you assume that.”

“I assume everything I believe; that I have justified, to be true until proven otherwise. You don’t read, right?”


“Most people do not.”

Ammelia picked up the doublelens and said, “What’s this?”

“A doublelens magnifier. Most people don’t read, which is why most people either don’t go to, or drop out of university.”

She walked over to the rat cage. “Is this needle for these rats?”


Ammelia moved to Alex’s poster the periodic table. “Are there any more of these?”

Scientist in the making? She wants a periodic table? “More periodic tables? I have some smaller copies I had scribed a few months back.”

“No, more of the…ele…elements.” Ammelia sat on the ground near the far counter and stared up at the elements. “There are…”

She can barely read. “There may be. That one is based on Chloe Rhye’s work that was done around a century ago. I had been working with a law of octaves to re-arrange the table, but Newlands has taken that over. Since then I’ve considered trying to measure mass in order to find a better ordering by putting elements into identical containers and comparing density but…”

“There are sixty-four elements?”

“Yes, that’s why I think the rule of octaves is so potent.”

“Sixty-four is eight squared…” Ammelia mused.

Good at math at least. “Yes. But Chloe proposed invisible, insensible elements.”

Alexandre looked around. She could tell Ammelia was getting bored. I hate teenagers.

Eventually Ammelia noticed and felt the urge to fill the void. She wiped old tears from her eyes, then said, “God elements?”

“…she read the Djeb paper on that, but she didn’t like the name. She believed they could be measured because they must have mass. She called them noble elements. They would ruin my idea of a perfect eight by eight table of elements.”

“So, how do you even know the God elements are real?” Ammelia laughed.

“First, she found Hydrogen. Then, she found that it existed in a double bond, like a lot of other gasses. Chloe decided, quite arbitrarily, that hydrogen was the classical indivisible unit, the atom, and that all elements were made of hydrogen. She further concluded that the noble gases were to be found in the weight category between Hydrogen the atom and Lithium the metal, which she said was made of three atoms.

“That was all before she figured that there must be an entire noble column of invisible elements. Umm, where did you learn about ‘god elements’?”

Alexandre looked down and saw that the girl had fallen asleep on the floor.


Daniel Triumph.

Table of Contents

Sketches of characters from this scene:



Time: The Beginning


I used to message her whenever she came to mind,
An inbox sprinkled with messages.

Now she’s gone (a line that is cliché)
And all I can do is look.

Has she been here? Has she seen this? The answer is

For now, but maybe not forever,
No. She is gone.

I miss her.



If you found me in the darkness
Would you fight for my equality
If you found that I had darkness
Would you protect me and my harshness?


The weak avoid.
“The quickest way to end the war is lose.”

The strong dive in.
“If you try, if you don’t die, you’ll end up black and blue.”




Statements Stolen from Twitter and Shuffled

The real reason Canadians apologize is because we really are rude, but then we feel bad about it after.

I sold my cunning got sincerity a long time ago. Now I just…offend people.

Aubrey Plaza exists.

There are just so many Russian women on Instagram.

Some people do not accept apologies. They block you instead.

Bring down upon them the lightning of judgment.


Write a book they want to read again.
And again.


Got rain.

Then I remembered there are people who actually lose chapters or books to digital corruption and power outages and now I feel better haha.

At least my imaginary video game friends believe in me


Bed time.

The Solune Prince: The Aftermath of Thought; (or The N’Tariel Talent)

Mithos: Sublime Idealist

Lloyd: Gentle Idealist


Oh, you’re worldbuilding? A bit too much you say?
Why did you make a new world? Ask yourself.
If the answer cannot be found, then you made it for yourself.

It’s time to stop worldbuilding and start doing something for your reader and not for you. Write.


Woke up sick. LOVE SICK!

A drum beats for me.
It’s louder every day.
The cadence tells me that
soon I’ll meet
My judgment day.

My judgment day.
my judgment day.

The game I play has caused a lot of grief
They were dying for fame, so I obliged them some relief
” (Megadeth 1999).


Am I doomed to just draw angry women now

The weak run and hide
I speak things confide
In me fear no the edge
Of life of my knife run and

I’ll cut your flesh.
(From Alexandre Dirge’s diary)


Treat others as you want to be treated? Wrong. I want to be argued with until one person loses.

Alexander Dirge has a better proverb: “Treat others as a mother would her child’s friends.”

Although she continues…

“Avoid touching them, be nice, assume that they are stupid.”

Twitter Questions no one ever Answered.

does microsoft own snapchat

You ever get the sudden urge to passionately bulldoze all the traffic in your area?

Do video games make you violent or am I just violent

Okay, so my Swastika Laboratory coworkers convinced me not to try speed.
My Rhetoric professor convinced me not to try cocaine.
Anyone have an issue with psychedelics?

Why is there no wizard Jesus?
Casting the Word from his magic tome, The Holy Bible?

I feel useless

Where is my lady? :3 I have her hugs

That the world may know peace…
Time is moving faster tonight.



Anti-Anti-Sonnet: Follow the Rules no matter What
By: Daniel Triumph

I’ll be there for you, when you walk throu’th’ fire
I’ll be there for you, when the flames get high’r
When, oh, nothing fits and nothing seems right
Till the last breath of my life, I’ll be there
(I’ll be There, Megadeth 199—

And, I believe you’ll be there for me too.

Do your actions speak louder? I hope so.

And all this time, and you have been so kind.
<don’t read this line it is just fil·ler here.>

— / — Come to me at your weakest,
— / And I’ll put you in your sleepest.

Time: The Beginning

By Megadeth

Father time, I’m running late
I’m winding down, I’m growing tired
Seconds drift into the night
The clock just ticks till my time expires

You were once my friend
Now I know I can’t tie your hands
The days I saved I couldn’t spend
They fell like sand through the hourglass
No time to lose, no time to choose

Time taking time, it’s taken mine
Scenes of my life seem so unkind
Time chasing time creeps up behind
I can’t run forever, and time waits for no one
Not even me

An enemy I can’t defend
My final place a deadly end
Life’s just a speck in space
Dreams of an eternal resting place

I can’t get any younger
Time has brutal hunger

Time taking time, it’s taken mine
Scenes of my life seem so unkind
Time chasing time creeps up behind
I can’t run forever, and time waits for no one, waits for no one
Not even me

© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC,Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

see you next time.
Do you wonder what part 2 will be like?
Find the preview…Time: The End.
Or, if this sentence becomes a link, click here.

Those of Noble Status

Second Draft.

“No, you listen, we should not be here! It is an ill omen, this mist!” The man whispered, shouting almost.

“You tell me we should go back, and then you have the gaul to speak of omens?” The woman replied, quite calmly. “Omens cull the meek and annihilate the weak. There is no omen that the Spirit could not for you give an more correct answer.”

They walked, or more accurately, she walked. There was only room for one on the pale mount. Or at least, the man had decided that there was only room for one.

“Inquire within, fool,” she mumbled.

Crystal Jealousy didn’t mind the man’s attitude, not any more. They had not been on good terms for many weeks. She knew his nature very well by now, and so she simply led the giant, wrinkled bulldog along, with it’s passenger. She knew where they were going, thus it was appropriate that she led. It was also good that the man, Illinois, was on a mount. He would be less likely to leave if his sloth was so enticed. Weakness.

“Crystal! Look!” He shouted, a shriek of fright.

“Ah yes, very good.” Jealousy watched the mist.

Crystal Jealousy had to pull her hair behind her ears. Usually, she let her crowen locks fall into her face, but there were times when vision was important. She pulled her, tangled eyelashes straight, then itched her upturned nose with shined and fair-skinned hand. Something about lashes so long that they clumped together when one blinked; Jealousy found it both frustrating and interesting.

They were surrounded by knee-high, overgrown grass. Ferns and saplings were beginning to cover the long-abandoned path. Beyond the grass was dense forest, the sort of wood that blocked much of the sunlight; not that there was sun right now. Everything was grey; grey and wet. Her cloak, one of the many layers of brown and black clothing she wore, was soaked at the brim, weighing her down.

Jealousy rubbed water into her eyes with her thumb and finger and then blinked.

When she opened again, she was in a different location. This always happened to her. She knew that her associate would be in good, albeit younger and stupider hands.


She had left her body behind and it was now inhabited by a slightly different consciousness. The woman in Jealousy’s body snapped her head around to look at Illinois.

“Oh, I’m still with you am I?” She spat the words, and then spat at the ground.

“Oh no!” Illinois whined. “Not again!” Why did she have to get mad at him like this? He moaned on the mount, wriggling, but too lazy to get off and leave. Always too lazy to leave.

But Jealousy knew what she was doing. She had written about what had happened here. She knew what to do. She walked the man and his dog until they arrived at an intersection, and then she turned her head to face the path that met theirs. It was built from right to left. She knew this, but the information seemed unimportant.

Crystal saw the figures approaching, finally. This was what Illinois must have been complaining about, this alternate pair that came to them in the myst.

“You stupid man! This is the whole reason that she, that I came here! Quiet your moans, you fool!”

She knew that she would not have a chance to actually speak the oncoming duo, but she knew this encounter well enough that she knew that it didn’t matter. She would know what happened here in great detail in coming years.

“You would do well to stay quiet. You are not long for this…” She stopped and blinked, rubbing at her eyes again.

Jealousy was taken back to her body. She hadn’t known that the other consciousness had been talking, so she didn’t finish its sentence.

Instead, she realized what was going on; a distant chiasm that was closing before her. “Here they come.”

And to Illinois’s horror, Jealousy waved. One of the figures; the shorter, brighter one; waved back.

Within a minute, the pair was close enough that their features were visible. The taller one was very tall. He had a black mess on his head that Illinois assumed was hair. His skin was tanned, and he wore a dark grey jumpsuit, made darker in the damp. The woman was much shorter, and also wore the grey suit, although her top half was tied off at the waist. Her undershirt shone bright in the mist.

As she got closer, it was clear that there must be some relation between her and the woman.

“A… A spectre! A ghastly white image!” Illinois cried.

“Quiet. That’s my sister you idiot,” Jealousy whispered.

The upturned nose and waved hair made it clear. But it was as Illinois had said, this woman had white-blonde hair, and altogether lighter features. The effect made her look like an apparition hovering out of the evaporate.

“Oi! Who’s that then?” The woman shouted.

“Hello Janna,” Jealousy said as her sister finally came into view.

“What’s all this mess? Is that you Jealousy?” Janna was surprised, “Not dead after all, huh.”

Jealousy shook her head, “It is good that we met up like this. You need my help.”

“We what?” The tall man said.

“No no, she’s probably right. Never known Jealousy to be wrong.” Janna told him.

“I thought you only had two sisters.”

“Nope, there’s also poor Crystal Jealousy. Although…are we sisters or…something. She’s related to me anyway.”

“Well,” the man said, “What about that guy?” He pointed.

“No idea.”

“That’s Illinois, my fiancée. But not for very much longer.” Jealousy told them.

“What?!” Shrieked Illinois.

“Getting married?” Asked Janna.

“No, rather, dear, I’m finished with you. Goodbye.” And then she let go of the reins. The pale white dog stared at her, panting calmly.

Illinois straightened up, “Quite right! You were far too much of a hassle anyway! I thought it was worth it, all these years, but now I know! Now I understand!”

He glanced at Janna’s soaked form, her white shirt semi-transparent. Janna stared back at him. She winked, smiling deviously, falsely shivering a little in her semi-transparent top.

“They say you people are mad, the Solune Royalty! I heard,” He hissed, “That one of you actually attacked the police in the city! And I mean the entire police corps! Started a riot, set the place into shambles!”

“I hope that’s true,” Janna’s mouth opened, adding teeth to her smile.

“You! You… you are despicable! Your insane kinsman, Crystal here!” He shot a finger at Jealousy, “And now you, so shameless! The Rhye family name is not worth the effort I’ve put into trying to acquiring it!”

“Sooth sooth! And yet,” Jealousy said softly, laughing, “You have been deemed unworthy by those you despise so suddenly! Oh my! May HaShem forgive thee!”

“Yeah man, piss off, right?” Janna took her undershirt off and whipped it at him.

The cold, wet tanktop slapped Illinois in the neck, and then Crystal muttered something to the dog. The giant creature barked, alerting all manner of chaos in the woods around them, and lumbered back down the path, carrying the man off with it.

“Shame,” Janna said, “He seemed like a great target. The kind of guy that gets offended at everything? Would have loved to tease him a bit.”

“Well, no real loss. He took care of me when I had that illness. Did I tell you about that?” Jealousy spoke, and then blinked harder than was necessary.

“You thing the beasts of the forest will eat him?” Mumbled the tall man.

“I hope so. Is he gone yet?” Crystal said, suddenly angry.

“What? Yeah.” Janna said. “And, I think he’ll be fine. That mount of his was far larger than anything that lives in this shallow a wood.”

Janna was not confused by the sudden change in her sister’s countenance, but the man was.

“Right. What was I saying?” Crystal snapped.


“Right!” She caught herself. She had been doing something far more relaxing eslewhere just moments ago, and she was troubled to continue a line of conversation she would not start for some time. “He was a bit of a help, truly. Perhaps he saved my life, so patient of a man, thought I doubt it. But slowly we realized that we were not a good long-term match. The fool kept me around because of my blood. That is how the Lussa aristocracy are you know. Much different than the Solune back home.”

She rubbed her eyes again.

“Ah, did I explain about the illness just then?” Jealousy asked.

“Yeah.” Janna nodded.

Jealously promptly vomited to her right. “Okay good.” She coughed.

They set up a camp at the crossroads. It seemed that Janna liked to carry a dry board in her rucksack for times like this, so starting a fire was easy.

“Remind me to get another one, eh Drake?”

The tall man shrugged.

They sat around the flames. The light made Jealousy’s sickly features more apparent.

“It’s not good for me to switch twice in one day. I should be okay with a little rest.”

The flames started to burn Janna’s bare skin. She pull her jumpsuit’s top half over her torso and zipped it closed.

“Yeah, I know. You said you were going to help us?” Janna asked.

“Of course. You will find my abilities very helpful, I’m sure.”

Drake finally asked, “What was all that? Issues? Janna always said you were a little odd.”

Janna gave him an unfriendly look.

“A little odd? Only that? She did not tell you the nature of my problems?” Drake shook his head and she frowned in response. “Oh my.”

However, Crystal Jealousy “Keturah” Rhye sang her next words with uncanny joy. “Allow me to explain!”

Image result for halford crucibleI don’t write much about Crystal, although I have a story swimming about in my head for her. Truly, her narratives seem to prefer to be open-ended and chaotic and wet. She brings water and misery wherever she goes, and archetype of the chaotic feminine in some sense. Hope to see her again some time.

Daniel Triumph.


P.S. Check out Crystal by Halford, which of course was the inspiration for Crystal Jealousy Rhye.

P.P.S. Anyone interested in knowing more about the timeline, read on. This story takes place in the time after The Solune Prince but before The Epic of Däwngale. Janna is still searching for Venus and Zealott, and Crystal Jealousy intends to use her “abilities” to aid the hunt.

Not sure how it works out. Follow me and perhaps we can figure it out together in a few years.