Who Am I?

It’s such a simple question, but holds so much to each person that answers it. There’s no right way to define who you are, but only to be true to who you are to yourself.

So, I’m Gabby. I’ve lived in the Pacific Northwest for the majority of my life. I love playing tabletop games and many other hobbies. I’m a creative and strive to express myself in as many forms that I might be able to learn. I’m mostly going to be posting my creative writing or writing about tabletop gaming, but there may be a post or two about photography shoots I’ve had the opportunity to take, or books that I couldn’t just set down.

Dungeons and Dragons has become a huge part of my life lately. It’s been apart of my life for the past seven or so years, but with the pandemic I’ve been able to use it as a facility to express my creativity. I’m starting to run the new campaign Wild Beyond the Witchlight from Wizards of the Coast. I’ll be sharing my journey of running it as a DM and including some tips and tricks. So stay tuned!

Now for some of the typical background, I’m 27 years ago and I live with my wonderful partner and our two furbabies, Ash and Paxton.

Alex, Ash, and I on a camping trip in October 2021.

We live a fairly busy life and we’re working on balancing all of the good, busy, and necessary for our every day. We spend a fair amount of time in the outdoors and I’ll be sharing some highlights from the small adventures that we take.

I went to school originally for a business degree and ended up with a liberal studies degree with a minor in political science. I loved going to school! My favorite courses were always the writing ones and I do miss the prompts that those classes forced me to complete. I just have to force myself now.

My family is Indo and I’m so proud of my heritage. I’m excited to share some recipes that have been passed down through my family and share the tastes of my history.

Thanks for taking the time to learn a little bit about myself!

Was There Survivors?

She walks to the front of the room. Eyes bring warmth to her back as she walks in between the groups. Soli rubs the papers between her fingers, feeling the dry fibers on her skin. Moisture arises on her palms. The carpet is speckled with hues of reds and blues. 

A small wooden stage sits in front of the groups. Just a small step with only room for one. Soli didn’t feel like she’s just one. The weight she’s been carrying is enough for a small village. The pressure from herself out weighs the weight from the groups of people sitting in the room. The step up feels like summiting a mountain, but will only a small pass on the side of the cliff. 

He is white, One of the men staring. She clears her throat. This isn’t just about speaking, this is about building and representing, this isn’t about her. It’s about the ones that were silent. The weight upon her back grows heavier. 

The lights in the room all pointed to her, but when she looked at that man his eyes were shaded by the light reflection in his glasses. He would be able to hide after this. He looked like everyone else in the room. Soli stood out. She is a woman, and she is not of white skin. 

She starts to speak. With the flow in the room, her brain masks everything with silence. There isn’t anything that she could comprehend within the stares or the whispers among them. Soli read the list that was on the bottom of the paper. She read a list of names. People deceased. Gone. 

“Was there survivors?”

No.