Blindsided (Index entry)

The Naruto fic that ate my soul. The first chapter outlines were written in January '05; the first chapter was published at the end of February, and I'm trying to maintain an update schedule of a chapter a month, but have been rather unsuccessful thus far.

It's a Naruto/Gaara/Sasuke post-timeskip AU. When Sasuke escapes from Orochimaru, events are set in motion that will drastically change the futures of Sand, Leaf, and Sound.

That's the tagline, anyway; Blindsided is my devious, self indulgent experiment. I want to write a threesome story with political overtones that still remains true to the half-silly, half-serious, shounen, action-oriented feel of the original series while exploring my own versions of the characters and the world. I get to do horrible things to the characters, come up with silly and misleading subtitles, and shamelessly whore myself out in the author's notes. Shameless, I say.

It's experimental in that I've never done this before- never written and published a chapter length fanfic (or even very much fanfic at all), never started something with intent to finish, never known exactly how something was going to begin and end. My goal is to connect to the fandom in some way; having an audience, even if it's a fairly small one, is a powerful feeling. I'm tired of screaming in the dark, as it were- I got something to say, and now I want people to hear me.

This is an index of all the story fragments that I've posted; possibly I'll also start indexing character analyses and plot musings. Many of these contain spoilers for various plot points, but very few of them will make it into the story without excessive amounts of editing. Consider them omake drabbles, if you like.

09/05 (naruto/sasuke, not blind enough)
08/05 (naruto/gaara)
08/05 (kisame, itachi, crazy kabuto)
08/05 (beachfic)
07/05 (naruto, kankurou, nosebleeds)
06/05 (kakashi, iruka, keeping score)
06/05 (naruto, gaara/sasuke, crispy fried pr0ns)
05/05 (gaara hates his life sometimes)

Spoilers! Blindsided spoilers! Spoilers like DEATH!

I adore Kisame and Itachi. I just do. I love the two of them as a pairing, but I like them even better as sort of hetero/asexual lifemates who have a deep and abiding respect for one another. Blindsided Kisame and Itachi act like an old married couple most of the time, though they're not sleeping together. The following scene, from the post-Orochimaru arc of the story, is possibly one of my favorite moments in the whole damned fic.

For those of you reading who haven't been (un)lucky enough to listen to me babble ad nauseum about the future plot points, or those who haven't been around since I posted all of my chapter outlines in January, this contains an enormous spoiler at the end of it, and a slightly less enormous spoiler running through it. Read at your own risk, whut.

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"Itachi-san. You're not keeping him." Kisame kept his voice low and spoke in their own personal theives cant, out of respect to the unexpected third wheel on their little bicycle of ne'er-do-well-ness. He was barbaric only when the occasion warranted it, he claimed, to contrast Itachi, who was a perfectly civilized brat no matter the occasion.

Itachi was just as unhappy with their current situation as his partner, but he truly disliked it when said partner told him what to do. It was a disagreeable business all around. "It's not your decision," he muttered back.

Kisame sniffed. Itachi looked up at him sharply, warning in his eyes. Itachi never bothered with facial expressions; he could say everything he needed to say with the slightest twitch of an eyelid. "I mean it. We've been considering new members, and it's not your decision."

"I know that, Itachi-san." Kisame was always respectful, even when he was being disagreeable. He managed to preserve certain formalities even in the limited vocabulary of sign language and muttered tones. "But I never said we wouldn't bring him back. I was merely remarking that you will not be keeping him."

The new inflection made the whole situation clearer; Itachi shifted his glare to the back of the topic of conversation. Kabuto's stride faltered slightly, and Itachi almost smirked. He entertained himself with the thought of Kabuto's reaction to the rest of the Akatsuki; he hadn't had this much fun since he was thirteen.

"Itachi-san." Now Kisame's voice held a warning edge to it. "It's considered polite to respond to a person."

"I don't see why I can't keep him." If Itachi sounded somewhat like a petulant child, Kisame was kind enough to overlook it. The taller missing-nin was known for his dislike of children- they were noisy, messy creatures.

Kisame sighed, a faint, irritable exhalation of breath. "Because, Itachi-san, the Akatsuki work in groups of two, and pets are discouraged."

"Jealous, Kisame?" Itachi dropped out of cant and spoke in a conversational tone.

The shark-man snorted softly and responded in kind. "Hardly. But, Itachi-san," his voice dropped slightly, "he's crazy."

At that moment, Kabuto paused in his shuffling steps to glance back at the two Akatsuki members escorting him. He smiled a brilliant, dazzling smile that showcased all of his teeth, and the light glinted blindingly off his glasses. His head tilted slightly, throwing off the glare, giving both Kisame and Itachi a perfect view of the perfect pair of mange sharingan eyes, swirling slowly in the sunlight.

Itachi returned the smile with a more focused glare, and Kisame looked smug until they stopped for food in the next town, where Itachi ate all of the dango and left Kisame with the bill.

-------------------------------------

Oh, Kabuto. Your crazy out crazies all the crazy people at the crazy house. And yes, Kisame is actually Itachi's nagging wife. (This bit was written in the pile o' rough drafts text file, hence the bicycle line. Unedited hijinx!)

On a completely unrelated note, "Kisame" apparently means something along the lines of "precipitation resulting from thick fog condensing on leaves in a forest," which I think is just an excessively pretty and poetic concept and just makes me love him even more. It's a shame he's a villain and will probably end up dead.

Naruto and Gaara babble...at each other. Possible BS continuity.

"Hey, you look a lot like your dad, you know." Like most of what Naruto said, the comment came out of nowhere.

Gaara looked up from his book and glared at the boy sitting on his windowsill. "No, I don't."

"Ch'. Don't look at me like that, it's true. When they make you Kazekage, they won't need to put a new statue up, they can just change the hair a little and add that kanji on your forehead. Bang! Instant Gaara!"

"Naruto, shut up." Gaara appreciated the way Naruto's presence tended to mute Shukaku's voice in the back of his head, but sometimes he wondered if the other boy was worth the trouble.

"Sorry, sorry!" He held up his hands placatingly, but was grinning fit to split his face in two. "Hey, when I'm Hokage, you'll have to come and visit Konoha so you can see my face on the mountain! It'll be cool! And I'll be like, "Yup, there I am!" and you'll be like, "Hey, who's your sculptor, I was thinkin' about getting my statue redone," and I'll say-"

"Naruto." Some of the ever-present sand on the floor was swirling dangerously.

"Huh?" Gaara's glare had been known to slay lesser creatures, but Naruto was completely impervious.

Unfortunately, it was difficult to remain annoyed at the blond for long, despite the fact that he was definitely one of the most annoying people Gaara had ever met. He shook his head. "I'll visit you when you become Hokage."

"Good." Naruto's voice was firm, and his silly grin had been replaced by an intense, unreadable expression. He crossed the distance between them suddenly, invading Gaara's personal space. "And when they initiate you as Kazekage, I'll be there, cheering louder than anyone."

Gaara's mouth went dry; he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by Naruto's proximity. "I'd like that," he said softly.

"I know." Naruto's hand was warm as he ruffled Gaara's hair. Then he was gone, taking his unnerving presence back to the windowsill, on the other side of the room. "I'm going to get food, you want anything?"

He shook his head, eyes still closed, and felt Naruto leave. When he was alone, he opened his eyes and touched the mark on his forehead, feeling the warmth from Naruto's touch suffusing his very being.

The inside of his head was very quiet, for once. It was peaceful.

He didn't wonder if Naruto was more trouble than he was worth very often; the answer was always so obvious it made the question irrelevant.

-------------------

...I shouldn't enjoy channeling Ninja of the Night when writing Naruto as much as I do. "Whoa, it's a ninja! Let's party!" "Yup, just throw the cake up here, please."

Also, I like WAFF, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. (That was a lie.)

In somnis veritas

Kakashi dreams.

Most nights, they are ordinary, every day dreams- just his mind regurgitating the day's events back at him in a series of nonsense segments. These dreams are filled with strange challenges from Gai and images of Jiaraiya's face superimposed on the body of a giant caterpillar. They mean nothing. These dreams are also filled with images of his students: Naruto proclaiming himself future hokage; Sakura proclaiming her love for Sasuke; Sasuke proclaiming nothing- but even in dreams his eyes speak more eloquently of his goals and ambitions than his voice ever has. Kakashi watches them run through their training exercises; in his dreams, he can gloss over the parts where their teamwork is not up to par. Those dreams always end quickly, sometimes glossed over entirely. Sometimes, he'll even find himself replaying scenes from whatever dirty novel he is currently reading; these dreams amuse him, because even in his fantasies he is nothing but a voyeur, content to watch but unwilling to participate.

He thinks, after dreaming these dreams, that he should look into acquiring a social life. In the end, he always decides it isn't worth the trouble.

Some nights, usually after returning from a mission, Kakashi dreams of death. It's always the same: he finds himself wading across battlefields lined with the accusing faces of his fallen comrades, hip deep in the blood that pours from their open wounds. There is an island on the horizon, rising above the river of blood, and there is always someone standing on it, waiting for him. He can feel hands clutching at his ankles, trying to drag him down, to drown him, as he strugles to reach higher ground. And always, just before reaching his goal, he stumbles. As the hands pull him down, the identity of the figure on the island is revealed. Usually, it is his sensei, looking on sadly as Kakashi is dragged under. Sometimes it is Rin, whose tears leave silver tracks across her face as she watches him drown. When it's Obito, he wades into the river to save Kakashi, and Kakashi drowns screaming at him to go back, to save himself. The last thing Kakashi sees then is Obito, staring back at him as they both sink down into a darkness that is colored sharingan-red.

He wakes from these dreams with his heart pounding and his chest tight, but Kakashi can't blame the dead for haunting him. He goes about his day with a little more slouch to his step and spends an extra hour at the memorial stone. He is accustomed to the guilt.

It's only when he dreams of being a child again, and the incredible warmth and strength of his father's smile, that he wakes with tears in his eyes.
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A bit on the awkwardly sentimental side; I liked the idea in my head, but I'm not sure how it looks on the screen. *shrug* We'll see how I like it after I clean it up, I suppose. it does count as a finished drabble, and it only took me about an hour to write. That's a new record, I think. Excitement!

Need sleep now. Sleep, not watching Cowboy Bebop. Damnit, brain!

Maggie and Millie and Molly and May

maggie and millie and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

millie befriended a stranded star
who's rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea.
- E E Cummings

-----

"It won't come off."

Naruto rolled onto his back and sat up, rubbing sand off his cheek. "Huh? Oh, hey, you're back. How was the water?"

There was a distant, lonely look on Gaara's face, and it made Naruto want to hug him. "It was wet. And cold. And now this thing is stuck to me and it won't come off." He crossed his arms and looked down at his feet.

Naruto followed Gaara's gaze and snorted into his hand when he saw the problem. There was a bright orange growth stuck to the side of Gaara's leg. "It's just a starfish. It must've thought you were a rock, sitting out there with the tide coming in. That, or it's trying to eat you." He reached out and peeled it away carefully, feeling it go rigid in his hands. "There, see? No problem."

The redhead crouched down beside Naruto and looked at the creature in his hands. "It's a fish? Will it die out of water?"

"Not for a while yet, they can survive for a few hours before they dry out. They taste pretty good, though."

A tendril of sand crept across the blanket and snatched the starfish out of Naruto's hands. "You're not eating it." Gaara stalked off, starfish bobbing beside him on a floating handful of sand.

For a moment Naruto thought he saw it wave to him as Gaara walked away; he shook his head and lay back down, returning to his sunbathing.
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I had huge segments of the beachfic running through my head this morning. This isn't actually how this particular scene is supposed to go, but I can never resist the opportunity for bizarre cuteness.

The beachfic is a sequel to Blindsided, though I imagine I'll write it before I finish BS. It's an introspective-y oneshot; Naruto decides he needs a vacation and drags Sasuke and Gaara to the beach. Gaara has never seen the ocean before, and Sasuke spent some of the the best moments of his life pretending to be a pirate (though he does decide, in the end, that ninjas are better). Naturally shennanigans ensue- and by shennanigans, I mean people stare at the waves and exchange lots of meaningful glances, and eventually they have sex.

Blame Vincent Persichetti, if you need to blame someone. If he hadn't set several EE Cummings poems to music and if we hadn't had to sing them in glee club, I never would have come up with the idea. Glee club is actually responsible for several of my crazy fic ideas, now that I think about it...

Blindsided 4

Victoly!

Chapter 4, aff version.
Chapter 4, ff.net version.

Yes, it took me two months to write a filler chapter OH GOD I'M SO SORRY. *cries* And some of the writing makes me twitch, but I'm too sick of it to fix it any further. If there are any typos and whatnot...well, I should care, but right now I don't. I will in the future, though, so if you find any glaring mistakes or instances of idiocy, let me know.

But! It's done. It's done and over with, frickin' huzzah.

I get to go into the Naruto/Gaara part of the story soon, and that's exciting. They're just so ogdamn cute together, and Gaara's actually quasi-sane around Naruto. ...okay, no he isn't, not at all, but shh. Must. Start. Outlining. Chapter five. *dies*

Basilisk

In the ongoing saga of my newest random manga reading...today I decided to check out Basilisk, being scanlated by Mangass. I knew nothing about the manga before hand- I chose it at random, more or less.

Basilisk is about two feuding ninja (yes, ninja) clans, Kouga's Manji Daini and Iga's Tsubagakure during the Keichou era. The current Tokugawa shogun has decided to choose his successor by choosing ten ninja from each family and having them fight to the death. This way his potential successors don't have to risk their own samurai armies in fighting over the succession; after all, ninja are easily replaced.

The clans have been at peace for 400 years because of a treaty/seal/vaguely mistranslated important thing under the jurisdiction of Hattori Hanzo, the shogun's shinobi leader. But most of the clansmen have been itching for an excuse to fight, despite the peace treaty. However, the grandaughter of the head of the Iga and the grandson of the head of the Kouga are in love, so the feuding would kind of have to stop when they finally got married. Fortunately for the dissenters, the shogun came up with this crazy scheme and gave them an excuse to fight.

The art is lovely, The backgrounds are either computer generated or derived from photographs, or a combination of both; some of the forest scenes are breathtaking, even in the middling quality of the black and white scans. The character designs are varied and detailed; the style feels a bit like a cross between Gantz and Les Bijoux, if that makes any sense at all. It's a more realistic-ish style, heavy on computer-simulated screentones for shading. The main characters (Gennosuke of Kouga, Oboro of Iga) have very pretty eyes, and there's a good balance between grotesque and pretty characters.

The characters are pretty awesome (Juube! Orochimaru, you only wish you were that cool- and Gennosuke could totally take down Itachi with both hands tied behind his back), and the plot looks like it's going to be full of crazy ninja battles and political intrigue, which is exactly what I've been craving lately (aside from doughnuts, of course). The manga has a very dark, medieval feel to it, full of gore and naked people (I know how to pick 'em, no?); I wish there were more of it out/scanlated.

...well, hell. Somebody's head just exploded. I seem to be sensing a theme, here. Ooh, make that two people with exploded heads. Delicious!

Gantz

I started reading Gantz today, because I figured I ought to read more random manga. Let me just say first that this series distrubs the fuck out of me. Just in terms of the explicit violence and the random naked women. I mean, I'm not normally phased by violence and gore, but this is a bit extreme even for me.

I just hit chapter 90, though, and felt the need to scream. AAAAAAHHHHHH. AAAAAHHHH, WTF NO THAT'S NOT COOL FUCKIN' HELL THAT'S NOT COOL AT ALL. AAHHHHH.

But other than the OH GOD BURNING UNFAIRNESS WHY, it's actually pretty good. A little bit more shounen than I'm accustomed to, but it's entertaining. A bunch of people get snatched away from the jaws of death (gasp, shock) and are brought to a room with a giant black ball in it. They're then sent off, armed with bizarre futuristic weapons and cybernetic body suits, to fight aliens that have infiltrated Tokyo. They get points for killing the aliens in creative or exciting ways. If they disobey any of the rules set down by the black ball (name of Gantz), their heads explode. If they die in the game, they stay dead- but if they survive, they'll go back to the room with the black ball, completely healed and free to go, until the next time they get pulled in.

The main character is a sex-obsessed asshole, but his character development is actually pretty astonishing. The standard shounen message of gaining strength and using your powers for (great) justice is still there, but it's as subtle as a kick to the shins, as opposed to most shounen manga, where it's as subtle as a very large rock to the head.

Every chapter starts off with a picture of a scantily clad, large breasted girl or three, and there's some rather startlingly explicit sex to go along with the violence; that's probably just my American bred sensibilities twitching, though. The art is pretty and the plot is on horrible amounts of crack; I'm not quite sure I'd reccommend it, but I am entertained. Mostly. People's heads explode on a regular basis, and the people whose heads don't explode usually end up disembowelled and dismembered in new and exciting ways. It's a bit...intense. And I'm not actually sure what the hell is going on with the plot.

Finally, around chapter 180, the story starts hinting at what's actually going on; by 210, I'm expecting some pretty heavy exposition soon, because it looks like there's actually a plot now. The story moves very slowly; a lot of space is taken up by the crazy fight scenes, and by people's heads exploding. It reads quickly if you just skim through the fights, though.

...and there's a panda. o_0 I...wow. Panda. Naturally, the panda follows the most cold hearted, evil bastard of the lot around. I need to make icons of this, I think.

OTP Top 20 Meme

Because subdee gee (I miss yoouuuuu) tagged me for it, and because I want to see if I can actually come up with 20.

My top twenty OTPs! *drumroll*

Setzer/Shadow (Final Fantasy VI)*
Zack/Sephiroth (Final Fantasy VII)
Norris/Karsh (Chrono Cross)
Sydney/Hardin (Vagrant Story)
Beowulf/Reis (Final Fantasy Tactics)
Rude/Reno (Final Fantasy VII)
Jack/Elmina (Wild Arms)
Hakkai/Gojyo (Saiyuki)
Ishida/Chad (Bleach)
Ino/Chouji (Naruto)
Crawford/Schuldich (Weiss Kreuz)
Spike/Julia (Cowboy Bebop)
Link/Zelda (Any Zelda but OoT/Majora's Mask)
Kaylee/Inara (Firefly)
River/Ed (Firefly/Cowboy Bebop)
Will/Bran (The Dark is Rising)
Temari/Shikamaru (Naruto)
Mustadio/Ramza (Final Fantasy Tactics)
Jack/Daniel/Sam/Teal'c (Stargate: SG-1, in a platonic team sort of way)

Uh, yeah. Had to delve into the rare and obscure fandoms there; a few of those pairings don't exist outside of my head. (The River/Ed doesn't, though! That was someone else's idea.) These are all strict OTPs, as in I don't want to see these characters with anyone else, which is why they're kind of obscure. The exception is Team 10; I'll read them as an OT3, but otherwise I prefer them split as Ino/Chouji and Temari/Shikamaru. And yes, the order of the names is intentional. ;P

*This is a post-game OTP. Pre-game, I'm Setzer/Daryl all the way. Not that anyone ever writes either pairing, but. (And not that there are more than four Setzer/Shadow fics in existence, two of which are mine (I'm not counting the Christmas drabble), and only one of which has any sort of redeeming characteristics at all. *glares at fic*)

whining whining fic recs whining

Unfortunately, when I am surrounded by people who are so much better than I at the things I do (which isn't much, when you think about it), I do not feel the urge to better myself to meet their high standards. No, that would be the proactive, sensible, useful thing to do. Instead, I wibble over how much I suck, and then I sulk unproductively for a while. *le sigh*

My self esteem isn't that bad, of course, and it's ridiculous for me to be upset over the quality of my fanfic (far more appropriate to be upset over the quality of my originals, in all their poorly plotted, archetypal glory). But there are always those several authors who never fail to hit that resonant chord in their writing, that thing that leaves a hollow space in your chest when you read it, aching and empty and right. And then I look at my own writing, and ask myself, "What have I done here that is new or insightful? What will my readers gain by reading this?" And when I can't come up with an answer, I sulk.

Anyway. Here are a few of the things I've been reading lately. Most of 'em don't actually accomplish that resonant feeling of rightness, but I likes 'em anyway. For those of you wondering, the subtitle to this entry is actually "In which I embarass myself by admitting to actually having read some of these things." Most are humor or drama; not so much angst, because I haven't been in the mood for it lately.

Ignorance is Bliss by fujisti stytghi. Kisame/Itachi; Itachi has lost his memory and Naruto likes him better this way. (I suck at summarizing things, haha.) The premise is a little odd, but it's a neat idea, and well executed. It's written from Itachi's perspective, so the backstory is very understated, and I like that.

Limits by Marmalade Cat. Kisame/Itachi; shut up, I like the pairing. Sometimes Itachi is kind of...batshit crazy. But Kisame is okay with being the sane one; someone's got to do it, after all. Okay, I'll admit it, mostly I just like this because the idea of Itachi hiding under a rock fills me with outrageous joy. But don't worry! It's in character hiding under a rock. Sort of. (I'm such a sucker for Akatsuki shennanigans.)

Weapons Check by dilemmalicious. Naruto/Sasuke; after another afternoon of training, the boys decide to see who carries more weapons. You know, just another little extension of their rivalry. *snork* Very few authors take into account that these characters are highly trained, well armed ninja, not just a bunch of hormonal teenagers; this one does. Someone recced this story on naruto_yaoi and completely spoiled the punchline of the first chapter, but you should read it anyway, because it's awesome, and one of the most hilariously in character pieces of fic I've ever read. After the first chapter, it degenerates into chakra-tastic ninja sex with a bit of sap thrown in, but the characters stay more or less in character. Anyway, it's delicious, go read.

Self Reliance, and the unrelated to it but related to each other Teddy and Of Sandwiches and Security Blankets by Imbrium Iridium. "Self Reliance" is Naru/Sasu mpreg with sexy no jutsu abuse, and yes, I really do feel incredibly guilty for reading it- but how often do you get to see Sasuke get pregnant? It's always Naruto, and I hate that. In this case, I can forgive the incredibly sappy and wibbly Sasuke because of hormonal imbalance, and because the Naruto is absolutely kick ass and mostly spot on. This fic wins points for being well written, for keeping people mostly in character despite the situation (well, aside from Sasuke, but he starts out in character), and for hitting all of my buttons in regards to humor and sap. There's a scene involving Itachi and a bookstore, and it still cracks me up.

"Teddy" and "Of Sandwiches and Security Blankets" are part of a series of Ino/Shikamaru/Chouji ot3 fics; "Teddy" rambles a little, but so few people write Team 10, and even fewer people write Chouji in a positive light, and nobody writes Team 10 threesomes, so the slightly rambly quality of the narrative is completely inconsequential. It's a fairly thoughtful, insightful, and lovely piece of writing, if slightly angsty. "Sandwiches" is even angstier and focuses on Shikamaru and his place in the relationship, and how he copes with tragedy. There's going to be a third part to the series, and it's apparently going to tie in with "Self Reliance," which, if you've read this far and have decided that I'm not totally on crack for reccing these and have given them a try, will excite you, dear reader, as much as it excites me.

(by this time, she was gasping for air)
The Way of Things by SolipsisticFury. Introspective-y Naruto/Sasuke cursed seal smut. (Because the real reason I love Naruto so much is because it hits all of my kinks- the number three, tattoos, sharp objects, canon gender bending, porn, masks, eyeballs (okay, so it created that one, but shh), mythology abuse, demons...I could go on, but I'm sure I'd get distracted.)

My next rec post will be of non-Naruto fic. No, for serious. Because I do read other things, I swear.

In the meantime, I'm going to resist the urge to write up song calls for every song on my new Nickel Creek CD, because yes, they really are just that shiny.

artfart

Jealous of the Moon

Spazzy doodly thing of Stella; Painter always makes me want to do more realistic things, except when it doesn't. I still can't handle light sources, shading, or anatomy without a model or a picture, but I'm pleased with how her face came out. Not as happy with the glasses, but I can't really leave them out; they're an intrinsic part of her style, along with the poncho and the cane. The leaves and the moon came out looking pretty cool, though. *sucks at backgrounds*

It wasn't intentional, but she looks a little like me in this pic...*sweatdrop*

Stella was thirty one when she died; she's 5'3 with short, slightly wavy dark hair. When she was alive, her eyes were brown; in death, they are covered over by cataracts, and are a blind blue-white. The sunglasses very rarely come off, and she ha several ponchos, each more ridiculously colored than the last. (Her excuse is that she's blind, but in reality, she sees quite a bit more than she lets on.)

A brief wtf moment, and some vaguely smutty Temari/Kankurou.

So, I have this mp3 of the Gummy Bears theme song, sung a capella (I think it's by Rockapella, but don't quote me on that). At one point in the song, the lyrics go, "...along with the secret of gummy berry juice- key change!"

It's probably not that funny to anyone else, but for some reason, this cracks me the hell up. It's just stuck in there with all the "ding dingadings"s and "boing boing"s when the key changes about three quarters of the way through. I dunno. 'Tis silly.

Anyway! This needs a bit of work still- the end needs cleaning- but it's presentable enough for the blog. A bit over 200 words, proper drabble length; I want to do a set of these, from the POV of each sibling.
----
"Paint"

Temari sits outside in the shade with a whetstone and a bandolier of kunai. It is the sort of day- typical, in the desert- in which the sun burns hot enough to pull the oxygen from the air and the color from the already colorless sand. She is made lazy by the heat, stretched out contented and cat-like, sharpening her claws.

She dozes to the rhythm of her blade against the whetsone, until her eye catches on a smear of purple paint beneath her fingernail. The sight of it, bright and unexpected, causes her to remember the events that brought it there.

(The paint is thick and oily beneath her fingers as she pulls his face to hers; he kisses her back hard enough to draw blood. The sharp, coppery tang cuts through the taste of the paint, thick and familiar on her tongue, as she obliterates the lines on his face with careless passion.)

She scrapes it away, some part of her cringing at the wrongness of it, this strange, half feral, violent thing. She sharpens her weapons with a frown in her eyes, and tries to ignore the soft, slow whispers of doubt in the back of her mind.

Later, when Kankurou greets her with a smirk, the lines of paint rearranging into something fierce and beautiful on his face. Temari fingers her newly sharpened kunai and smiles back, all thoughts of doubt and wrongness forgotten.
----

I dunno why my Temari always ends up angry and violent. I think at least half of Gaara's crazy was hereditary; Kankurou's the only sane one of the lot in my head, and his siblings totally abuse him because of it. That's what he gets for being a Taurus.

*snork* Okay, so my geekiness knows no bounds, but the astrology thing is all Kristen's fault. However, none of this excuses the fact that Gaara is a Capricorn (ambitious, emotionally withdrawn but vulnerable, patient), Kankurou is a Taurus (stubborn, hedonistic, reliable), and Temari is a Virgo (uptight, analytical, overcritical). The sandsibs cover the gamut of earth signs, which totally doesn't explain why I like them so much. *gnaws on astrology*

Right. I'm taking my overly geeky self and going to bed, so I can come up with a proper ending when I am actually awake. w00t, yo.

Hammer to Fall

"Well, this isn't the first time it's happened, and it certainly won't be the last." She draws a glass of water as she speaks, glancing over her shoulder at the line behind her. "We've withstood worse. Heaven knows the city can take whatever they throw at us."

She takes a drink and we amble away, through the dusty streets. There is a stillness in the air, a lurking tension; this is the taste of siege, brought in on a dead wind. But she's right- the city will not fall. The city cannot fall.

"I'm going to the barracks tomorrow, to see a recruitment officer," I say, as casually as I can. "They won't take me, of course, but I'd rather have the rejection now, than worry later that I could have done something."

She shakes her head. "They'll never let you on the Wall. You're of more use where you are."

"Probably." I shrug. It isn't worth thinking about; what will be, will be. The city won't fall, and my presence in the guard won't change our death toll by more than one, regardless.

She stops suddenly, and I turn to her, feeling her fear as a palpable thing in the air, stirring the siege tension into a war-frenzy, thrumming with terror. She is staring at the cup in her hand, knuckles white and trembling ever so slightly. A line of spittle hangs off her lower lip.

The bottom of my stomach drops out as she looks up at me, face pale.

"There's something in the water."

I'm not fast enough to catch her when she falls, paralyzed by fear as I am. The cup rolls out of her hand, spilling water onto the street. I can see the sickly tint to it, greenish-yellow against the pavement; my mouth waters, the sweet-sour precursor to vomit.

In my mind, I can hear the sound of rocks crumbling.

Summer and other, similar sensations

In other news, my Windows Media Player refuses to burn CDs. Thankfully, Seph is Vaio-tastic and has other software for the purposes of messing about with audio files. Granted, the current state of my music library is scattered and sparse, but this does not stop me from attempting mix CDs.

I've been wanting to do a summer/travel themed mix all summer, and I only just got around to putting it together. I'm going to have to redo this one, but I think it was rather successful for a first attempt.

1 The Ataris, "Boys of Summer" You couldn't honestly expect me to make a vaguely upbeat, summer CD and not include this song, could you? Of course not.

2 Great Big Circles, "FFAdventure Begin at the End of the Beginning OC Remix" I love this mix. I love FFA, and I love this mix to itty bitty pieces; it combines the best parts of the soundtrack and makes them better.

3 Imogen Heap, "Hide and Seek" One of the low energy tracks on the CD. The harmonies make my spine tingle, but mostly this song gets included because one of the defining moments of the beginning of my summer was watching the season finale of The OC- they played this song three times throughout the episode. S'a good song, regardles of the associations.

4 Better than Ezra, "Extra Ordinary" This was on one of the store tapes at Eddie Bauer last year. It's also just a good, upbeat song, with the sort of vocally driven, sparse instrumental style that I think characterizes hot weather music.

5 Don Henly, "Walking in Memphis" This is an all year song, but I first realized I loved it when I heard it on the radio at the shore. That association (dancing in the living room despite the heat), as much as my absolute love for it, gets it a place on the CD.

6 Coldplay, "Clocks" This track doesn't actually belong, and I'll take it off when I redo the mix. "Clocks" is a February song for me, through and through.

7 Luna Sea, "Aurora" My first and favorite Luna Sea song. I'll have to do a song call post for it once I find the lyrics and translation for it. I don't listen to much Jrock or Jpop; Luna Sea is the only group I actually enjoy. I first downloaded "Aurora" on a whim a few summers ago, so I'm quite fond of it.

8 Filter, "Take a Picture" The music video had a sunken airplane and people swimming. It's always been one of my "refreshignly cool songs," along with being a defining song of ninth grade- and ninth grade was really just one long, arduous summer vacation for me in so many ways.

9 Sarah MacLachlan, "Possession" Technically I ought to have summer associations with this song, but most of them have been eaten by Norway (fucking Norway!). this one is also out of place, and won't make the final cut.

10 Jim's Big Ego, "Stress" High energy, vocally driven crack. I love this song so hard. "And sand fleas? Sand fleas? Yuck!"

11 Moxy Fruvous, "BJ Don't Cry" More high energy, vocally driven crack.

12 The Postal Service, "Such Great Heights" I like this version (the original) better than the Iron and Wine cover, because it's so much brighter. It's a song for traveling- long car rides especially, and journeys that take you far away and back again. Summer is all about journeys: roadtrips; vacations; self exploration just for the hell of it, because there's nothing else to do in all this heat.

13 Indigo Girls, "Galileo" Dad used to pick up very random mix CDs in San Francisco, and one of the ones he brought home had this song on it. He played it while driving down the shore a few years ago, and it's always stuck in my head as a song to associate with him, and with that stretch of the parkway outside of Forked River at night. Just pine trees and the road, and a sort of lonely hopefulness.

14 Origa, "Inner Universe" It's the opening to Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex, which I only started watching this summer. It's also full of multilingual, transcendental, spine tingling harmonics, and the base line makes me happy.

15 Blind Melon, "No Rain" Technically this ought to be a November song, but it's a song I associate with Squeaky as well as November, and Squeaky, for some reason, is a summer association in my head.

16 Jason Mraz, "The Remedy" My ultimate happy song; I couldn't make a mix and not include it, and I spent all of the summer of 2003 listening to it.

I give everything seasonal associations; people, music, food, books- it's what I do. I may do mixes for each season, but for now I'll work on perfecting this one.

If anybody wants any of these songs, leave a comment and I'll put up a yousendit for 'em.

Song Call- Michelle Cross, "Cold Light"

Faugh, I am le tired. And I feel as though I ought to be working on something, but I'm completely and utterly exhausted for some reason. (Also, whatever is poking my kidneys needs to stop, seriously.) I'm going to babble about music for a few entries; apologies for the spam.

These lyrics are really fairly standard fare...but the song itself is incredibly, hauntingly lovely. Most of the words are unintelligible, save for the last lines of each of the first four stanzas and the first line of the bridge. When you put those together, you end up with standard, incredibly angsty fare, but put them together on top of the really pretty, ghostly piano, and the song just gives me shivers every time I hear it.

In the cold light of day,
You decided to show your face,
And the mime dressed in black,
Said you're useless to him now.

So I turned to run away,
But there you stood in my way,
And a voice called out to me,
"Girl, you never really learned to love."

I'm still hanging on...

Now I stand in the past,
My eyes focused on the cracks,
By this time you figured out,
I'm useless to you now.

And the clock on the wall,
Says it's time for me to go,
And a voice calls out to me,
"Girl you're better off alone."

Ahh, Ahh...

And you tried to strip me of everything that's left.
In me, I still can't believe... I let you succeed.

Ahh, Ahh...

In the cool city scene,
Where I wander like a dream,
There's a mime dressed in black,
And he likes to talk a lot.

And I pass him in the street,
And a voice calls out to me,
"Girl, you're the only one you've ever got..."

Ahh, Ahh...
-Michelle Cross, "Cold Light"

It's mostly the piano that does it for me; granted, it's a little reminiscent of certain video game sound tracks, but it also conjures up images of snow, and moonless, star spattered skies. The title fits; if I ever wanted to do a soundtrack to the concept of winter light, this would be the first track.

Here, have a yousendit link: http://s52.yousendit.com/d.php?id=2252FZJSIHOG02EFYKEW0BJ6S4

Catapultam habeo. Nisi pecuniam omnem mihi dabis, ad caput tuum saxum immane mittam

When the last of his Horsemen fell, Nero felt their deaths like an ache in his soul- but he didn't have a soul, so he overlooked the sudden emptiness, the sudden feeling that he'd lost a limb, and continued fighting.

When an Angel took down his Prophet, Nero was deafened by the sudden, sharp silence. But then the sounds of battle returned, quieter than before, and he continued fighting.

When Nero reached Meggido and saw the Dragon die, it took a moment for his brain to follow the reality of her body hitting the ground. It was the longest moment of his life.

Nero had not been engineered to feel heartbreak, or sadness, or regret. In many ways, he was exactly what his creators had intended him to be; in lieu of feeling loss over the gaping empty space in his consciousness, he felt nothing more than pure, unadulterated fury.

He strode across the field of Meggido, gathering the powers of the fallen to himself: the Crown, the Sword, the Scales, the Skull, the Scroll with its seven seals. The Serpent's power was his own, now, released to him without restriction at her death. Nero glowed with the strength of his dead comrades; his counterpart was waiting for him, standing over Belinda's body, covered in her blood.

"Excuse me," he said politely. "The "covered in the blood of my enemies" look is just so last milennium. This is the twenty first century; the subjugation of humanity is all about style. I'm going to have to kill you before you become a terminal eyesore." He drew his scythe and opened the blade with a practiced twirl. "There's not enough room for two antichrists on this plane of existence, my friend- and I got here first. It's time to end this."

The Dark Messiah spread his hands (still dripping with her blood, black and acidic) and smiled disarmingly. "By all means, lets begin. But first, we'll need an audience." He gestured expansively to the battlefield and its carpet of corpses. "What's that old saying- you know, something to do with gladiators."

The dead rose up with a wail, dragging their pestilent and wasted bodies to surround the two of them. "That's right, now I remember. 'Morituri te salutamus.'" The weapon he drew from the air was a mirror to Nero's own. "Hail, Caesar."

Nero met his attack head on with a smile, all thoughts of death and emptiness forgotten in the face of battle.
----------

...*cough* Project: Apocalypse. It's another one of those stories that involves way too much religious wankery, and everyone ends up dead in the end. Or mostly dead. Or at least dead enough for government work, which really isn't all that dead at all. (It came out of that time in my life when I was reading Revelations far too much for my own good.) But hey, there are people with scythes running around. That makes everything better! ...sort of.

Nothing to say, really. (The dialogue bites, but Nero and Cain were weirdly socialized as small children, and they love ruining moods.) The title is Latin for "I have a catapult. Give me all your money or I'll throw an enormous rock at your head." It's a Nero sort of thing to say.

art whine and ramble

Arg. I cannot draw Temari to save my sooouuul. Mostly I think this is the fault of the pose I'm trying to put her in; I suck at profiles. On the other hand, this picture has some of the best feet I've ever drawn, and I'm kind of tempted to shift the entire composition so I don't have to redo them. Then I'll just have to draw the back of her head. Hm. Because those are some really awesome feet- but the whole point of the picture depends on being able to see her hands, and I don't know if I can pull that off.

Blarg. I'll just have to erase her and start over again...for the third time. >_< Kankurou came out so well, aside from his mutated foot...*sigh*

Ahah, but now I can use caps from chapter 270 (chrisy, it's never going to end, is it?) to get a better idea of Temari's face; I really need to find the CD I stuck all of my image files on, and I need to redownload the zips of the earlier Naruto chapters, now that I have CDisplay. (d00d, this program is awesome.)

And as for 270...If I have to see another character thinking to himself "Damn, guess I have no choice but to use "that" jutsu..." I'm gonna stab something. Once I stop giggling, that is.

I'm glad we're finally seeing something other than Sakura vs Sasori; Kankurou sans hat is the sex. He's always been the sex, mind you- he's just even tastier now.

Bah. *stagnates* I want to read good fic. Preferably Naruto, with in character fluff or bittersweet angst, but I'll take anything as long as it's good. Mostly, however, I want to be elsewhere, far, far away from my mother; barring that, I'd like my creativity to work again.

Nero, of all characters, is getting restless in the back of my head, along with the other Horsemen and Belinda. It's a shame their story has no plot...maybe I'll write a snippet for them later.

Paaaanic panic panic.

Normally, I save my spammy panicked posts for the blog, because that way it doesn't show up on people's friends lists. However, since the stupid thing is syndicated for livejournal, I can't do that anymore.

...actually, I can, I'm just going to feel kind of bad about it (for, y'know, the three of you who are subscribed)- and I feel the need to preface said spammy panicked posts with disclaimers like the above paragraph.

That said...

Paaaaaaanic panic panic. Whee!*splat* My inability to multiply whole numbers foils me again!

Oohhhh, panic!

*dies until dead from it*

Snagged from B

"If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, post exactly one sentence/paragraph/whatever a small excerpt from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favorite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else -- this is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s)."

Aye, "whetting the general appetite." *snork* In my case, this is indulging in general wankery, but that's what this place is for, no? I just realized that I have about seventy thousand works-in-progress, because I never frelling finish anything. These would be the things I'm actively thinking about right now.

So! Non-fannish things:

Stella Matin (working title); standard and urban fantasy with zombies and dystopian societies. Excerpt from the end of the second partita: Bren's Story.

"I can have it finished in a few days," he said in a voiceless whisper. He knew enough about healing to know that his voice was never going to work properly again; his mother would be disappointed. "If nothing else, you can sell it. Radrezhaean crafts are worth a lot beyond the borders."

If Theron had even heard him, he gave no indication. He was too busy tracing the woven outline of flames and eyes. A pair of dragons sprawled across the surface, jaws locked around each other's throats; faces looked out from beneath the shadows of their wings.

"Why did you make this?"

There were a thousand different answers to that question; it was because Theron was leaving, and Bren had seen it, and because Rhapsody had haunted him since the night of the Festival. Bren settled on shrugging and giving Theron a half smile. His own face peered out from the tapestry, eyes accusing.

There were other faces; Shanreth and Mih, a woman with blind eyes, a man with no eyes at all.
--


Fannish things (all Naruto):

Blindsided (because I don't post enough bits of this as it is!); alternate timeline AU, Narutuo, Sasuke, and Gaara-centric, yaoi. Excerpt from chapter 4, damn its eyes.

"Ch'. Put your frickin' teeth away, I just wanna talk."

"And I just want to bite your spiky little head off and devour your soul, but we can't always get what we want, can we?" The demon's eyes glowed like hot coals, but they did nothing to illuminate the darkness of the cage. All Naruto could see were those two lamp-like eyes, and the teeth.

"Somebody's in a bad mood today. What's the matter, fleas?"
--

What Remains; alternate timeline AU, Kakashi and Obito-centric, mostly gen but with bits of boylove, because sex always makes Kakashi angst. Excerpt from a few (read: a dozen) scenes in the future; Kakashi is 18, Obito is 19.

Kakashi usually stopped by his place after missions; Obito wasn't sure why, since they saw enough of each other every day when Kakashi wasn't on assignment. He got used to his friend showing up on his doorstep at odd hours, sometimes grinning with one eye, sometimes half dead from exhaustion and bleeding.

So it didn't come as a surprise when he heard the door open at two in the morning; he wasn't a ninja anymore, but he kept in condition as best he could, and he knew Kakashi was due back. His friend had a spare key, but Obito met him at the door anyway.

"You look like shit," he said bluntly. "How badly are you bleeding?"

Kakashi's Anbu mask hung by its strings from lax fingers; his cloth facemask was stained with blood. "Internally or externally?"

"Your sense of humor still needs work. C'mon, lean on me." They hobbled into the bathroom, where Obito helped Kakashi out of his clthoes. He hissed in sympathy at the bands of bruises that wrapped around Kakashi's chest and abdomen. "What happened?"

"Anbu stuff. Classified." Kakashi leaned against the countertop and let Obito clean him off and bandage him up. His expression was neutral, but his hands were shaking ever so slightly with the effort required to keep up the facade.
---

Wind, Sand, and Bone; sandcestuous introspective-y whatsit. Excerpt from Temari's part. (Why. Can't. I. Finish. This. Fucking. Thing.)

Kankurou stares pointedly at the marks on her neck and slams doors hard enough to rattle the windows.

(Later, she apologizes to him without words, because he is her brother and she knows he will forgive her no matter what. He places his hands on her hips, lining his fingers up with the marks left by other men. His hands fit well over her skin, even if they never match the bruises- but afterwards, he cannot meet her eyes, and sometimes her apologies cut deeper than her transgressions.)

She is beyond feeling shame. She imagines her mother's shocked disapproval, her father's disgust, and wonders what freedom feels like.
----

I'm currently at the point where I don't really enjoy writing anything; I never really enjoyed writing Stella Matin, and I still don't. I don't actually like most of my original stories, because I'm always too aware of the shortcomings of the plot and characters as a result of my own obsession with setting. It's frustrating. As for the fanfic, I'm just feeling blocked because of stress and the lack of inspiration from my source material; the latest manga chapters have been craptastic.

*gnaws on things* I'm running on nervous energy because of my paper right now; it's not particularly conducive to clear thought, no matter how much I want to rant about fanfic versus original fiction. I'll save it for later, I guess. *can't wait for friday*

Reading- I do occasionally expand my horizons to include things other than pirated manga and fanfic. Occasionally.

After finally returning my other library books (nearly a four dollar fine, I suck), I picked up a few more; volumes 5 and 6 of Petshop of Horrors, Conrad's Fate, Villa Incognito, and The Iron Council. That's two ambiguously gay manga, one Diana Wynne Jones, one Tom Robbins, and one China Mieville. I think I've outdone myself in terms of a random crossection this time.

Petshop of Horrors is spazzy ambiguous fun with small children, animals, and cops, and has yet to disappoint me. It's pretty, too, and I'm hella shallow. :) I'm so happy the library carries it.

Now, Diana Wynne Jones is my favorite children's book author, even more so than Bruce Coville or Zilpha Keatly Snyder (though I still really, really, really want to finish the Below the Root trilogy), despite the fact that I never read very much of her when I was a child. I did, however, read my first Chrestomanci book in third grade, and Charmed Life is still one of my favorite books. I adore the Chrestomanci series (bizarrely anachronistic British children's fantasy with alternate universes!); when I found out she'd written a new one, I was rather excited.

Chewed through it in an afternoon; have decided I want to bear Christopher Chant's obnoxious little forgetful magical babies. Have also decided that I want someone to write Christopher/Conrad/Millie fic, and that I am a horrible person for wanting this. (I'd settle for Christopher and Conrad fooling around while Millie is away at boarding school, even. Or Conrad and Millie having a "Why isn't Christopher in on this too?" "Because he's a prat," make-out session, or Christopher wondering why Conrad hasn't got a girlfriend and Millie thwapping him with a newspaper for being clueless.) I still think Charmed Life is my favorite in the series, but Conrad's Fate probably ties with The Lives of Christopher Chant for second place because of my aforementioned love of Mr Chant.

By the by- This Person has a few Chrestomanci fics, most of them crossovery and delicious.

I've started Villa Incognito; I have to stop every few pages to make incoherent noises at the book. (You know the ones- "Aaaaaaaaahh. AaaaaAAaaahhh.") This isn't because the book is so amazingly funny or shocking (even if it is); it's because I'm a rabid Naruto fan, and at the moment two of the primary characters are Tanuki and Kitsune, and I am a shameless dork. No, seriously. Shameless.

The only other Tom Robbins book I've read is Jitterbug Perfume; I keep telling myself I need to reread it again, but I haven't recently. Whenever I do, I feel an insatiable urge for beets and honey and jasmine tea (but not the three together, necessarily). It's an awesome book, utterly absurd, and the reason I will occasionally tell people to stop putting Descartes before the horse. (Sex! Lies! Two thousand year old perfume bottles! Dinosaur brains! More sex! Immortality! Root vegetables!)

I haven't started Iron Council yet, but China Mieville, pwns j00 and your puny soul. Fear the wrath of his steampunk. Perdido Street Station ate my brain (turned it into rotting lemony goo and slurped it right up) and briefly had weird anthro investigative journalist characters filling up the free space in my skull, but I've since recovered. Iron Council doesn't look quite as intimidating as Perdido Street; I'm hoping for a better ending from it, as well. A deus ex, no matter how cool its alias, is still just a deus ex. On the other hand, just about everything else about the book was amazing (the giant rhyming omnipotent spider in particular), so I'm looking forward to another adventure in New Crobuzon. Mieville may occasionally play fast and loose with his plots (only occasionally), but his world building is fucking amazing- if gritty and disgusting industrial revolution sort of things are your thing.

Yay, books.

Blindsided wabble

*facepalm* So, Blindsided kind of has a few crack pairings in it, because they make a strange sort of sense in my head. Kabuto/Itachi, for instance, even though I'm not (not) using the zombie baby plotline, and Kankurou/Hinata...which could potentially be Kankurou/Neji, but that would just make me cry. A lot. Nevermind. Then there's Anko/Kakashi, but because I suck at pacing, that may not even appear, and it serves no purpose beyond wigging Kakashi the fuck out and mostly just involves Anko getting drunk and molesting the man.

Crack pairings you will not see in Blindsided: Kisame/Iruka. I'm stating this mostly for my benefit, because (aaauuughstopgetitioutofmyhead) occasionally I feel the urge to be a very stupid fangirl. (Dolphin! Shark! Twu wuv! *FATALITY*)

I'm in a very silly mood at the moment, I apologize. I've been a little bit unstable and overly stressed out lately- fortunately, when I'm stressed out over work, I usually end up directing all of my nervous energy into creative things; chapter four is almost done, and I think I may have the next scene for What Remains finished soon, as well, and I've got ideas for fanarty things.

Anyway, I give you a bit of crack that may or may not show up later in the story. Haven't decided yet.

-----
Naruto wiped at his bloody face with a wet cloth, and glared at Kankurou's reflection in the mirror.

Kankurou's brow furrowed in concern. "What were you doing with him?"

"Wasn't doing anything, we just started bleeding!" Naruto threw the cloth down in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. His shirt was a mess; he was lucky he hadn't been wearing his jacket, or it would be ruined.

"Uzumaki." Most of the time Naruto just thought Kankurou's facepaint looked stupid, but when he scowled like it transformed his face into something intimidating. "Gaara doesn't get nosebleeds. What were you doing?"

Naruto flushed bright red and mumbled something under his breath. He picked up the rag and began scrubbing ineffectually at his shirt.

"What was that?"

"I said, we were making out! Okay? Now leave me alone!"

Kankurou's eyebrow twitched. He took a deep breath and nodded once, stiffly. "Excuse me a minute." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

A moment later, the sound of uproarious laughter reached Naruto's ears. "I can still hear you, asshole!" he shouted. Then he cursed violently; his nose had started bleeding again.

a series of loosely connected thoughts

Okay, so when I said I was getting the hang of the html thing, I totally lied, and I'm very sorry to all the people not using IE. I only pretend to know what I'm doing.

And, on second thought (she says, after reading spoilers everywhere), maybe I do need to read the sixth Harry Potter book. ...god, I am so shallow. XD

In other somewhat-shallow news, Wild Arms: Alter Code F looks to be a combination of incredbly fugly and incredibly lovely. The screenshot of Emma's office is amazing, but all the shots of the primary three characters make me very sad. Cecilia has shoulderpads, and the intro animation is still the most hideous thing since The Crystal Sword. If anyone else even knows what I'm talking about when I mention that game, then oh, god, I am sorry for you.

Other completely random and unrelated thoughts...both A&E and TLC are premiering tattoo shows this week. On different days, even, so I can watch both of them. This is awesome. I love tattoos- they're like skin graffiti, and I love graffiti. I would have one now if I weren't an indecisive coward. :) The obvious choice would be an Om between my shoulder blades; I've always loved the concept of the sound from which all other sounds began. Unfortunately, the symbol itself has gotten to be somewhat ubiquitous, and I like being original. So my other choices would be words or music: a few bars from Concert in D minor around my ankle, or my favorite passage from A Cloud in Trousers in the original Russian. Maybe the word for "silence" in Sanskrit, since kanji is both overdone and less aesthetically pleasing. Words make powerful art.

...actually, I'm also totally enough of a geek to get a small Rood Inverse, though the full sized one would be seventy nine million kinds of awesome. The other obvious tattoo choices would involve dragons or phoenixes (or both), since those have always been my mythological creatures of choice. (Cowardly and indecisive!)

Most of my favorite characters end up with tattoos; Jubal has a thunder bird on his shoulder, courtesy of a bunch of Aztecs who thought he was a god, and Dei has a crucifix on the back of his left calf. Lyra has a Celtic knot on her hip, because she used to be a hemp wearing hippie, but no one else in Boffo has any inkings. The Celestials make their own markings, and a lot of them are fond of body art when taking human form.

Silverlock has maybe a square foot of uninked skin, total. His back is covered with a cross section of the Rothcar skyline; the undercity catacombs are inked across his buttocks and the backs of his thighs, which occasionally leads him to make all sorts of bad jokes about the Assassin's Guild being his seat of operations. Most of his other tattoos have arcane significance, but a few of them (the really obscene ones on the bottoms of his feet, and the flowers on his calf) are purely sentimental. All of the other non-half elven assassins have small identifying marks somewhere on their bodies. (Foxbird has a stylized red fox head, Lucky has a pair of crossed swords, Blaine has a sleeping cat.)

When Theron was in Rothcar, Silver tattooed several runes of power down his spine, and he has Crafter markings on his forearms, hands, and the back of his neck. (Magicrafters used tattoos on their hands and arms as visual foci, but they aren't necessary or even particularly helpful to most crafters. They're more of a fashion statement than anything else; the trend went out of style years before Theron was born, but Shanonil flaunted hers and insisted her son wear them.) Mih doesn't have any, but Brenon has Weaver marks on his arms. Mordant has a flaming skull on his right bicep, and some people suspect that if you were to remove all of Solneki's clothes, you'd just find another black suit and stupid tie painted over his skin. (You wouldn't. You would, however, find several crudely drawn smiley faces and some stick figures engaged in lewd acts, courtesy of Mordant and his handy magic marker. Mordant always has more bruises than Solneki has stupid doodles, though.)

pwnorship

So, I started reading Bleach today; got up to chapter 100 and got frustrated with the difficulty of downloading the scans. ...I love shounen manga. It's just so shiny.

I'm not as rabidly fangirly about it as I am about Naruto, but it is kind of fun. Mostly I'm in a state of bliss over the character designs and the clothing- I'm completely in lust love lust with Urahara's hat and Ichigo's random Engrish t-shirts. (I want Speaking is NOT.)

I like the characters, even if there are too many of them; Rukia does nothing for me, but Ichigo and his family are hilarious. Ishida and his sewing skills are wonderful; Chad's excessive niceness and his awesome hair also make me happy. Orihime and all of the femmeslash that surrounds her caused me to make lots of incoherent noises at my computer, as did Kon.

I'm still sort of reeling from all of the new characters that are being introduced in the Soul Society arc; I have decided that I adore Renji's eyebrows and the entire 11th Division, but otherwise I have no opinions on the other Shinigami. (Okay, Gin creeps me out, but I think he's supposed to.)

It's aaaall about the 11th Division, though. They're just so bloody cute. I just wish it weren't so bloody difficult to find scanlations. *le sigh* But yes, love for Bleach; it's a shame there's very little fic for it, particularly since most of what is there is Ichigo/Rukia. All I want is Renji silliness or 11th Division shennanigans, or possibly Chad and Ishida being nice to each other...perhaps I will drabble, once I've finished reading the scans.

And, in completely unrelated news, the jerk who posted the Harry Potter thing on chuunin? *facepalm* Asshat. On the one hand, now I seriously don't have to read the book (yaye), but on the other- oh, asshattery. To improve everyone's mood, I give you a completely non-spoilery link: Dumbledore's death, by William Carlos Williams. There's a TS Eliot one on the site that makes me very happy, as well. *wanders off to read all the spoilery posts on friends list*

thoughts (are screaming)

Occasionally I'll get a name stuck in my head and, if the conditions are right (keep in a dark, warm, slightly damp place and cover with paper towels) it'll grow into a character.

Evidently my head has been particularly dark and damp lately.

Sabatieni and Cabiria Valentine are sisters; they look enough alike to be twins, but Sabatieni is older by a few years. I've had Sav in my head for a while, though she doesn't talk much- now that her sister is here, she's a little bit more sociable, but Cabiria has always been the more outgoing of the two of them.

Don't know much about them; they're names and faces and hints of personalities- tall and slender with long dark hair, pale skin, hawkbeak noses and narrow mouths, with slightly scornful, superior smirks. Their primary colors are black, white, and red. They're travellers and a thousand possible other things. Right now I think they're leaning toward arsonists and poets of an unconventional style.

Dove Lancaster looks about sixteen but probably isn't; he's got a gangly, unfinished look to him, and his hair is always in his eyes. His primary color is gray, hence his name; his eyes are blue-gray, his hair is a colorless sort of brown, and his clothes are all faded. He's a traveller like the Valentine sisters; they met up on the road years ago and have kept in touch. (They drive an ancient Cadillac that Cabiria keeps in condition; Dove goes through vehicles like I go through sunglasses, and was last seen driving a Vespa.)

No world and no story; there's another woman named Maeve involved, but I know even less about her. The Valentine sisters want to invade the Boffo universe and stir up trouble (they insist on being called the Infamous Valentine Sisters) but I'm not sure how Dove fits into that. Dunno what I'll do with them; doubt I'll actually write anything for them, but y'never know. Maybe I'll attempt some artings, since I'm fond of their designs.

Meh. Downswings always kill my creativity; I disgustingly unproductive. (Oh, right, because I am.)

Heaven let your light shine down.

Recs! For no reason whatsoever, save that it's late, I ought to be asleep, and I'm not thinking about my paper or the mountain of housework I need to do.

Naruto
Revolutions by blue arcane- SasuNaru (or NaruSasu; it's not clear yet), yet another one of those "Sasuke gets dragged back to Konoha by Naruto and discovers twu wuv" sort of stories. It's fluff and angst all the way, but the grammar is good and the writing is solid, which are always the first things I look for when poking around ff.net, and the plot is moving slowly, which is nice because it means there's actual emotional buildup and character development. Both Naruto and Sasuke are a little on the sappy, wibbly side, but not so much so that they induce eye-sporkage. It's a cute story, and I heart the fluff.

Celestial Bodies by Caspian- Sakura-centric introspective on Ino, Sasuke, and Naruto. Lovely insights and writing; I highly reccommend the rest of this author's Naruto fics (she's got Weiss fic, too, but I haven't read it yet; I imagine it's also quite good), especially the Team 10 ones.

Not Found in Stone by phoenix of eternity- Kakashi, Yondaime, and Sakumocentric, which should tell you right off why I'm reccing it (such a slut for baby!Kakashi angst, I'm so sad sometimes). A look at what makes a hero and that wonderful mainstay of fiction, death. Another general author rec here; more excellent fic all over the place, but I most especially liked Anniversaries, because Sasuke angst is almost as delicious as Kakashi angst.

Choices by ninjacat ally- SasuNaru, mostly just smut. But it's well written, well characterized smut, and there's something very chilling and right about it.

Outclassed by winter of our discontent- I'm pretty sure I haven't recced this before; if not, here it is again. Kakairu; Kakashi may be Konoha's resident genius, but when it comes to Iruka, he's rather hopelessly outclassed. This fic is hilarious, and there is a wonderful lack of fanon!Iruka. Shiny.

Lessons by Elizabeth Culmer- Iruka-centric and sort of a side-story to Way of the Apartment Manager (AU; with original characters, one of the best what if!crack!AUs out there (what if!crack!AU being my favorite genre, of course), and a fic everyone ought to read because it's lovely); ninja politics and ninja ethics make me squee endlessly, as does nonfanon!Iruka. "Lessons" has all of these things, as Iruka discovers that he wants to teach.

Painted Scars by Fairady- Kankurou drabble, recovering from the fight with Sasori. Examines the lines on his face, and a little bit of his relationship with Temari. *hearts the Kankurou*

Family by MonsterBrat- crack!AU, my favorite genre- what if Sasuke's parents died on a mission when he was three, and he was raised by Itachi, who didn't go crazy, just went slightly strange? It's a series of character pieces focusing mostly on everyone else's reactions to Itachi. Some of them are a little strange and the grammar is occasionally off, but I like the idea (of course I do) and the characterizations are well thought out.

Butterfly Knot by Kimi no Vanilla- Sandcest (yes, I really have given myself over to the dark side), and an almost-companion piece to Chevira Lowe's Tempest (loveliest opening paragraphs ever). Kankurou gives his sister away- Kankurou/Temari, Temari/Shikamaru. Heartbreaking and delicious, the way sandcest ought to be.



And now, the stuff that isn't Naruto.
FMA
Must Like Cats by girl starfish- So. Cute. *ded* Vaguely Roy/Ed, but only vaguely. Ed and Al go searching for a girlfriend; wacky hijinx ensue. Also I love Hughes beyond words. *cry*

I so suck at reccing. "Durr. Fic make V go yaye." *flails and fails*

There were others, but I can't find them right now. *is horribly disorganized* Been wasting my creativity on drawing vaguely sandcestuous pictures (it's all about the facepaint, yo) because I can't quite bring myself to write anything. Hopefully I'll actually finish the bloody things, since I haven't finished any real art in a while.

Speaking of writing- my kingdom for a botanist! Anyone? Buehler? No? Crap.

testing, wot wot?

New layout- I am teh win! ...only not really since all I do is take pre-existing layouts and shift them around. But still. I like this one, and I think I'm getting somewhat more comfortable with using css; the original layout used tables, and this one uses div tags and styles. And gradients! I know how to do gradients now, and all those stupid little link style things. Go on, hover over a link. It's shiny! Hee.

It is sad that I must resort to coding as a creative outlet; I want to write but I can't, and this frustrates me beyond words- which is probably half of the problem. *sigh* Feh.

Stella Matin- wanking like I've never wanked before.

(babbling! babbling everywhere, like babies! zombie babies!)
Mm, Launchcast just played the Ryan Adams version of "Wonderwall." w00t, yo. It's learning. Now it just needs to play some Jason Mraz, and it'll be perfect. I've already got it playing Duncan Sheik...

I'm at the point in Stella Matin (Maeroris, whatever) where I could just skip five or so years into the future, or I could take the time to actually write out what Theron does when he leaves Radrezhaea and wanders around Rothcar.

Since most of it is just him meeting Silver and being taught arcane magic and getting weirded out by the Shrive, there isn't much point to writing it- but I adore Silver, and I may write it anyway. The seals keeping back Shanon's memories probably disintegrate while he's living with Silver, so that's potentially interesting and plot-worthy; by 'interesting and plot-worthy,' I actually just mean 'full of angst.'

Once he returns to Radrezhaea, he runs into Brenon in the Capital, in the middle of Festival season. He does stupid things that get him noticed and then Blacklisted; when Brenon and Mihonil try to help him, they get Blacklisted, too. And then the three of them are deemed to dangerous to let live, so they're all tortured and then thrown into a box; Theron chews off his fingers (not all of them, just a few), kills Bren and Mih, and creates Muse and Walker.

Then he raises an army of Corpses and takes over the city. He kills his father and starts slaughtering all of the Magicrafters; not much happens for the next few decades while Theron subjugates the entire country, expanding his army of mindless zombies. Once the killing dies down, he spends a few years getting more in touch with his powers, and figures out how to create Ghosts.

Theron can create three basic kinds of undead- Corpses, Revenants, and Ghosts. A Corpse is a soulless doll, a sort of very well preserved zombie. Only Blacklisted Magicrafters become Corpses when they die; the technique was developed by Drazhene after the Second Cataclysm to better control magic users and to increase the power well of the Voyancy. (A Magicrafter's power is absorbed by the Voyance when he or she becomes a Corpse, thus making every successive Voyance stronger than the last.) Corpses can be destroyed by fire or dismembered, and they don't require sustenance, though feeding them does prevent decay.

A Revenant is a Corpse with the ability to contain a consciousness, which is actually different from a soul, but not in any ways that are at all important. Most of the citizens of Radrezhaea in Stella's part of the story are Revenants; Stella herself is a Revenant. Anyone can become a Revenant if they're willing to pay for it, but Revenants have no memory of who they were before death. Their existence is also much more fragile than that of a Corpse; they require frequent sustenance to keep from disintegrating. Any sort of raw meat will do, though human flesh is the most "nutritious." Very poor Warm families will often sell unwanted children to feeding farms, since wealthy Revenants will pay quite well for babies- older humans usually just get ground up for hamburgers. The life span of a well fed Revenant is a few hundred years, though most are not well fed, and some decay completely after about fifty.

Ghosts are the incorporeal consciousnesses of the very wealthy, as only the very wealthy can afford to be made into Ghosts. This usually only applies to Revenants, since most of the Warm are incredibly poor. However, those few Warm who can afford to become Ghosts can choose to retain their memories; most don't, as being alive in Radrezhaea is a largely unpleasant experience.

Ghosts inhabit corporeal bodies, but when they grow tired of a body, or when the body they inhabit starts to decay excessively, they transfer to a new one. Warm families can also sell unwanted children to body farms for Ghosts to choose as new hosts. Being posessed kills the original inhabitant of the body and effectively turns the body into a Revenant, albeit a very hungry Revenant. Ghost bodies decay even faster than normal Revenants, but host bodies are cheap and plentiful. Body farms breed live humans specifically for the purpose of serving as hosts, but a Warm One doesn't have to live on a body farm to be vulnerable to Ghost possession. The living have very few rights in Radrezhaea; in fact, the only right they really have is the right to not be eaten before being sold to a feeding farm.

Walker and Muse are a whole category unto themselves; Theron gave them both a piece of his soul when he created them. This was monumentally stupid of him, but you've got to give the guy a break; he was a little bit preoccupied with being really fucking crazy at the time.

Stuff happens during Stella's story, though I'm not entirely sure what; possibly, when Stella became a Revenant, Muse screwed up with her memories, or Theron accidentaly gave her a piece of his soul. Either way, she becomes a seer and becomes the figurehead of a resistance movement of sorts. She finds Razhia and convinces her to help them fix things. This part of the story takes place in my stupid generic fantasy world's equivalent of the eighties or late seventies; Radrezhaea is technologically behind the rest of the world, but they've still got some fairly nasty weapons. Rothcar has nukes and an itchy trigger finger, particularly since Radrezhaea's hordes of hungry zombies have been sitting on its doorstep for several decades.

Anyway, more stuff happens, and Theron, Walker, and Mih regain their memories and their souls. Bren threatens to never speak to Theron again if he doesn't clean up the mess he made (Because dude, zombies? Not cool.) and Theron does, by breaking the power well of the Voyancy. (This relates back to the stupid, nonsensical history of the country, but the very first Voyance used the much smaller power well of his time to ascend to godhood; even though Theron has been drawing on it constantly for a few centuries, he's barely managed to scratch the surface of it. Fuck, the damn thing could be sentient for all I know; I don't really have this part plotted at all.) Releasing all of that power pretty much disintegrates every living thing except the people standing right next to Theron at the time, including Razhia, who sacrifices her own power base to keep the blast from spilling over into the neighboring countries. (Stupid gods. They screw up all of my storylines.)

Bren's kind of pissed at Theron, but he has to admit that everything is kind of squeaky clean. There's probably a few more deus ex moments to wrap everything up, and then we enter the Aftermath part, which is apparently the only part I'm even remotely interested in writing. *facepalm*

When Theron gives up the Voyancy and initiates the Fourth Cataclysm, he loses his abilities as an Unraveler. He regains his powers as an arcanist, though, so while he can't create Revenants anymore, he can animate dead bodies the way a normal Necromancer would. He doesn't, though; he's kind of leery of dead things at the end of everything.

He keeps all of his scars from before his ascension to the Voyancy, which means he only has seven fingers (missing the right pinky all the way down to the third knuckle and the left ring and middle fingers to the second knuckle) and he still has a Blackmark on his chest- it's an ugly burn scar, but the runes are completely illegible.

...Feh. Now if only I could be as productive when it came to actually writing things, instead of just writing about them...*sigh*

blah blah Naruto filler WHAT OBSESSED, ME? NEVER.

So, apparently in the filler episodes of Naruto, they are bringing back Mizuki.

What the fizzle? Augh. This is the problem with obsessing over an ongoing series- I don't know how people who watch normal tv and fan at it manage. (Every week, Blindsided gets a little bit more AU. It's sort of like California, and the slow, inexorable slide towards Seattle.) I mean, okay, so it's cool that we get to find out what actually happened to Mizuki, but I seriously wanted the bastard to be dead. Not just gone and disappeared from the storyline, but something more along the lines of an ex-parrot, if you know what I mean.

I just like the idea of Naruto being a little bit more like a monster than people (fans) think- and he did wail on the man with about a thousand clones. But it would make more sense if he were dead, anyway; he tried to steal the forbidden scrolls, he broke the law about talking about the kyuubi, he nearly killed Iruka and tried to kill Naruto- you can't tell me a frickin' ninja village doesn't have a death penalty. Someone that treacherous who betrayed not just his comrades but his whole village is just too much of a risk to leave alive- as the latest filler demonstrates.

Not that I'm actually watching it, since I don't follow the anime beyond what they post on chuunin. But still. *whines*

On the other hand, the manga? (Damn you, Kishimoto! You're not supposed to validate my stupid fannon theories about puppets!) SASORI WHY ARE YOU SO AWESOMELY EVIL. WHY. I WANT TO KNOW. (I kind of liked him better when he wasn't twelve, but that just makes him creepier- and creepy = awesome.) Somebody needs to write Sasori crack!fic with puppet smut. Bonus points if either Gaara or Kankurou are somehow involved (because Kankurou makes everything better. *glares at unfinished fic*) (And oh, sweet chrisy, the opportunities for a whole new breed of sandcest- *explodes*) (Hey, the puppets are kind of like zombies...*death by parentheticals!*)

I'm totally making myself a GAARA LIVES t-shirt for Otakon. Because yes, I am that much of a geek. (I'll just work on it inbetween the tadpole plushie, the random Jiraiya accessories, the frelling pimp-coat, and oh, right, my fucking paper. *stabs self until dead from it*)

Also (non sequitur, here I come!) the phrase "Stop flogging the dead Obito" makes me spew pepsi all over my monitor- and I don't even drink pepsi.

Half Elves, Rothcar and Radrezhaea

(In which I wank at length about my original fantasy setting. I've done a post on half-elves before, but they've evolved a little. Sort of. (Not really.))

It is, in far too many ways, a generic fantasy world; it was heavily inspired by all of those second edition D&D books we have lying around the house, and all that Tolkien Light (aka Dennis L. McKiernan) I read years ago. So you have your whole gamut of otherworldly races- the wise and all-powerful dragons, the equally-wise-but-slightly-more-hippy-like elves, the all-too-mortal humans, and a plethora of other humanoid and monstrous peoples.

And then there are the half-elves, my slightly feral race of bondage fetishists. *sigh*

Humans and elves don't get along all that well, but they're still crossfertile and bastard children are born all the time. At one point, they were just left to die of exposure, but then someone realized they were wasting valuable resources by just killing the children. Instead, they were raised as cheap and effective slave labor. Half-elves live much longer than humans and remain at their peak of health for much longer; they're physically stronger than elves; they're intelligent; and they're pretty.

Eventually (after a lot of rebellions and uprisings and dead people and meddling Little Gods), it was decided that complete enslavement of an entire race (such as it was) of people wasn't all that kosher, and slaves are more useful when they're happy. So the half-elves were all freed, and a compromise was reached: all half-elf children would be kept as slaves until they reached complete maturity (at the age of seventyfive or so), and then they would be freed to live as they pleased.

Enslaved half-elves wear shackles around their wrists and ankles, and their clothing has their owner's marks on it. They aren't allowed material posessions; the only thing a half-elf owns is his skin and his name- but that ownership is total and complete.

Body mods aren't just a fashion statement; they're a way of life. Most half-elves acquire full body tattoos by the time their indenture is up; fewer than twelve facial piercings are rare. It's common practice for a slave owner to lend jewelry to favored slaves, and gift them with it when their indenture ends.

Half-elves are inherently magical, and this manifests in their having very tough skins; a certain amount of magical ritual is required for tattoos or scars to 'set' properly, otherwise they fade within a few years. Most half-elves have some small amount of arcane talent, so they can perform the necessary rituals on their own. But the tattooing process has a quasi-religious significance, since it's the only sort of identifying cultural tradition they have. If there is more than one half-elf in a household (and in wealthy households, there are usually quite a few), some sort of celebration will usually accompany new tattoos or piercings.

The first tattoo a half-elf ever receives is an identification marking on the back of his neck; this mark is immediately covered, usually by a collar of some sort. It's a serious taboo to show anyone but closest family (and 'family' is a very loose term, given that very few half-elves will ever even know their parents' names) and clan members. Revealing untoward amounts of skin is taboo in general, but baring one's arms in public will, at most, get you a few stares. The name-mark is a very private thing; a half-elf cannot legally be ordered to bare his neck. Enough of the Thousand Little Gods have taken an interest in the half-elves' welfare to ensure that those who mistreat their slaves will bedealt with accordingly.

Freed half-elves can choose to leave the city entirely and seek out other half-elven communities; these communities are dependent upon freed slaves choosing to isolate themselves from mainstream society. Just like mules and other halfbreed animals, half-elves are sterile (brothels account for nearly sixty percent of half-elf ownership). Most freed slaves do leave to live with their own kind for a while, but many return to the cities to enjoy their freedom.

I'm overly fond of my stupid generic fantasy world, and I love me my little quasi-race of bondage and body mod fetishists. Someday, maybe, I'll rework the history of the world, since I came up with most of it when I was thirteen and it's all rather half-assed. (My trademark, really.)

Silverlock D'Alestri (the psychoslut half-elven pain mage assassin of Foxbird) shows up in Stella Matin; he's Theron's teacher when Theron books it out of Radrezhaea after nearly being eaten by a dragon. I think he's probably still alive by the end of Stella Matin (half-elves live between three and five centuries, and because of Silver's...habits, he's a little more long-lived than most), which gives me all sorts of opportunities to traumatize Theron further.

And the half-elves in general fascinate Bren, since Bren is hardwired to obsess over colorful, shiny things- so if I keep writing post-Fourth-Cataclysm Stella Matin snippets, they'll show up eventually. (I do love Bren, but Theron's right- he's an idiot. If you set him on fire, he'd be too busy admiring all the pretty colors to put himself out.)

If you was any more Italian, you'd be a cannoli.

Sammy's grin threatened to launch itself off his face and attack small, tired children with its irresistable exuberance. He gestured expansively to the atrium of the casino and took a deep breath. "Smell that, Clyde? That's the smell of moral tuhpitude."

Clyde sniffed the air experimentally, and sneezed. Sammy clapped him on the back, still grinning. "Not used to it, eh? That's what you get for living on a farm."

He rubbed his nose, irritated. "Fishing village. And I grew up in Chicago."

"Yeah, I know. Your accent makes my eahs hurt."

They walked past an elaborate flower arrangement in the center of the lobby, eliciting another sneeze from Clyde. "Sammy, what letter does 'ear' end with?"

The albino man blinked at his friend. "Eah? It ends in an ah. Why?"

Clyde shook his head. "Just checking." Sammy had already moved on to examine the flowers with startling intensity.

"Lookit this, Clyde. Orchids. I always thought there was somethin' dirty about orchids."

Clyde rolled his eyes. "Sure you did, Georgia O'Keefe. Come on. Your moral turpitude is giving me a headache."
----

Yeah, okay, so I actually wrote that bit last summer, but it still amuses me because damn, am I ever easily amused. It's part of that crazy AU FFVI roadtrip-Las-Vegas-crack!pairing fic.

So, meet Sammy "The Ghost" Gabbiani and Clyde Arrowny. He's an albino black sheep from the mafia, and he's an ex-con with a mysterious past. They fight crime! ...okay, no they don't, they gamble a lot and bicker at each other. And then Daryl shows up, because my favorite number is three (no it isn't, it's sixteen, but close enough, right?) and wacky hijinx ensue. Huzzah!

...Right, I'm going to bed.

random things- it's late and I'm tired!

So, I went to the Cloisters over the weekend, and there's nothing like looking at bits and pieces of monasteries to make the Dreamscape people start muttering.

The nuns of the secular religion thing (I need to not come up with completely half assed ideas someday. I mean, these things are like quarter-asses or eighths of ass. Kind of sad, really) are actually more powerful than the Emperor. They developed hyperdimensional corridor technology (HDC tech) and distribute it free of charge to anyone with a place to use it. Rumor has it that they're closely related to the Rats because they also distribute very effective security programs to the general populace.

The nuns are most famous for their Cloisters, despite all of their free technology. The Cloisters are places of sanctuary, open to anyone seeking a meal and a safe place to sleep, no matter who they are or what they've done. Those seeking sanctuary are given a ten foot by ten foot room and a bed; if groups of people seek sanctuary together, they're all expected to fit into a single ten foot by ten foot room, with as many beds squeezed into it as necessary. So long as the door to that room is closed, nothing else can enter; the Emperor himself couldn't order a Cloister to open its doors. (Quinn and Leo seek shelter in a Cloister after they flop in Lynna Falls; they quickly discover that it's impossible to brawl in the two foot by ten foot space between the beds. After they bunked the beds, they beat the crap out of each other.)

The Cloisters have a curious effect on the flow of time; the longer you spend Cloistered, the less time passes for you in the Cloister. It's a good way to live forever, but you would die of boredom eventually.

The nuns aren't actually affiliated with anything and, despite the incredible influence they could weild, they don't do anything to influence anyone. In fact, they're closer to being hermits than nuns; they do all their business with the outside world through computers, and no one has ever actually seen one of them.

They'd be important if I had a plot, but I don't, so they're just parts of the setting. *sigh* Oh well. Fly away, logic! Be free!

---

"You're sure you took down all the security?" Sasuke recalibrated his glasses before putting them back on, and the world sprang into sharp, red-hued focus. A tiny line of numbers blinked from the corner of the lenses.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm not some fucking amateur." Naruto was horrible at controlling his body language; every angle of him screamed barely contained frustration.

"Then you're sure there's no one else in the building but us?"

"Yes."

"Quiet, both of you." Kakashi was leading the way through the hallways; he raised a claw to halt them and his head swivelled so he could glare at them while still watching the hallway ahead of them. Suddenly, his whole posture changed, snapping into something low slung and dangerous. "Unidentified entity alert."

Several things happened all at once.

Kakashi flickered forward, too fast to follow and a service panel opened in the wall, spilling a pair of men into the hallway. Sasuke drew both of his swords, Naruto extended his claws, Kakashi bristled with attachments that were probably capable of destroying city blocks, and the taller of the two men began shouting, and all of them were moving into fighting stances.

"Initialize directive thirty seven six twenty five oh bee ell oh ell!"

Kakashi froze, and his eyes went dim. Sasuke glared at the man who'd shouted and leaned ever so slightly forward. The edges of his swords rested against the man's neck; an assault rifle pressed under Sasuke's ribs. The other man had Naruto at the end of a broadsword. There was a soft click, and the walls caught fire.

Took him long enough, Sasuke thought sourly. What was the point of having a Rat on his team if said Rat was useless for anything but clawing people's eyes out? Sasuke could rip out eyes just fine on his own, damnit.

"Okay. I've heard this one before. A Rat, a Tax Collector, and a clockwork monstrosity walk into a highly fortified mafia office. The Taxi walks up to the bartender and says..."

Sasuke's eyebrow twitched and pressed his swords a little closer to the man's throat. "Shut up or I bathe in your blood."

"Ooh, kinky. I like that in a girl." The man had an obnoxious grin. It reminded Sasuke of Naruto, unsurprisingly enough. They were both blond and annoying.

"Um, guys?" Neither of them turned to look at Naruto. "No, for serious. I'm really bad a trapping. It was one of those things I never quite got the hang of, because, see, I have no control." The walls inched a little closer, and the flames turned greenish around the edges. "And in every one of my tests, my subjects' heads exploded. We lost so many topsiders that way. So, uh, don't move?"

The blond paled a little, but the assault rifle didn't move. "Okay. Why don't we start over, then?"

"Fine. Undo whatever you did to the monstrosity and we'll talk. Who are you and what are you doing here?" Sasuke's glasses began running numbers across the bottom of his field of vision. The words "no match" flashed across his eyes. Damn. Who the hell are these guys?

"Yeah, right. When I put that thing back on line, he'll rip my head off and eat it. They call them monstrosities for a reason. Tell His Majesty over there to untrap us, and we'll talk."

"His majesty?" Sasuke tilted his head just enough to glare at Naruto. "Foxface?"

Naruto swallowed audibly. "Hey, on second thought, why don't I blow up their heads anyway?"

The man with the broadsword sighed. "Quinn, you owe me a dollar."

The three of them glanced at him out of the corners of their eyes. He frowned. "What? Every time our lives get threatened in some ridiculous and excessive manner and it's entirely his fault, I get a dollar or free waffles. When it's my fault, he gets one. He already owes me a lifetime supply of waffles. I want cash now."
---

I make no excuses or apologies even though I know that made no. sense. whatsoever. ("Trapping" is what the more elite Rats do; it's sort of like genjutsu, if you want to think in Naruto terms- illusion stuff, hence the walls catching fire. The Rat hacks your brain, but if you're Naruto, you really shouldn't be screwing around with people's brains, because finesse really isn't his strong point.)

I couldn't not have them run into Quinn and Leo. I mean, it was their universe first, it's only fair. (And I love Quinn and Leo. They're both enormous dorks, and everything really is all Quinn's fault.)

Naruto fragment

"What makes you so fucking special?" He lunged forward, a kunai in each hand.

Iruka grabbed the kunai aimed at his throat by the blade and made a choked noise in the back of his throat. A thin line of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. "It's a little known fact about my mother's family," he said softly, glancing down at the kunai lodged in his ribs, "that we have all been blessed with an unnaturally high tolerance for pain."

He smiled, reversed his bloody grip on the kunai in his hand, and drove the blade into his opponent's shock-widened eye.
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I doubt I'm actually going to get to expand that scene...but I do love Iruka. (Don't as who he's fighting. I haven't decided yet.) And if you watch his "fight" with Mizuki, it's really kind of amazing how much damage he takes while still managing to remain standing, let alone conscious. (Yeah, he eventually collapsed, but still. I was impressed.)

I need to rewrite nearly all of BS4, because it sucks, and this makes me sad. So instead I'm going to spam the blog with random, random stuff.