Friday, September 30, 2005

Boffo STUPIDITY

At some point in the post-Boffo storyline, Dei fakes his own death for tax purposes, among other things. This was during one of his periods of radio silence; Opal and Tyler were sent a copy of his death certificate in the mail after not hearing from him for years. Tyler was distinctly unamused by this turn of events; he was even less amused by Dei's choice of tombstone:





Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com


Tyler stared blankly at his brother, while Opal hid her face in the voluminous sleeves of her sweater, shoulders shaking with tears, laughter, or both.

Dei met his younger brother's glare with a sheepish grin. "What?"

"If Dad weren't already dead, he'd kill you."

"Oh, come on. You know he'd get a kick out of it. It's funny. You know, a joke?"

"It's your fucking tombstone!"

"Exactly. It's my tombstone, I can put whatever I want on it. Lighten up, Tyler. It's not like I'm going to be using it any time soon."

"That's what you think!"

Opal managed to avoid getting caught in the ensuing scuffle, but the tombstone was not so lucky. Tyler proclaimed himself the victor over its shattered pieces, still glaring at his brother despite the way his left eye was swelling shut. Dei emerged from the fight completely unscathed; he put his hands in his pockets and met Tyler's glare with a resigned sigh.

They were both idiots, Opal decided- but they did keep things entertaining.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Drive by fic recs!

...I need to do homework. Hey, look, fanfiction! *stabs self with physics until dead from it*

Salt Water Medicine by Flying Machine. Hauntingly insightful Kakashi introspection/backstory fic; read the other fic by Flying Machine, as it is also wonderful. They're both short, but well worth the read.

Untitled Young Orochimaru Drabble and Atheist, by Asprosdrakos. Suddenly Orochimaru actually makes sense, and that is no mean feat. "Atheist" is Kakashi introspection on where a ninja places his faith, because there's no such thing as too much good Kakashi angst.

Acetaminophin by Riddering. Kankurou post-Sasori's attack, with some Sakura thrown in to make it absolutely my favorite Kankurou fic ever. This isn't saying much, since there's so little Kankurou fic out there and I tend to adore it all, but Riddering gets his voice down perfectly and I love it.

Parallels by Quest of Dreams and Lazzchan. SasuNaru AU; Naruto gets hit by a strange jutsu on a mission, and wakes up in a universe where his life doesn't suck. This fic is breaking my heart and needs to update again right quick, yo.

A Study in BS by memlu. FFVII Reno and Rude fic. Gawd, Reno. You're so fucking crazy.

Things Normal and Twenty Five by Atreylune. The first is angsty, dysfunctional Rude/Reno, and the second is hilarious, hilarious Rude-on-the-job. Read the rest of Atreylune's FFVII fic, it's f'awesome.

Four Part Byakuya/Renji Series by Kira Douji. Okay, I don't even like this pairing. It upsets me for some reason (probably because I really dislike Byakuya, I don't know). But this series is well written and in character- and that's impressive, given how little there is of Byakuya's character. The individual parts have titles and can act as stand-alones, but if you read them all together, they're even better.

The Required Generic Substitute Teacher Story by Moonsheen. Ichigo. Chad. Substitute teaching. Ichigo and Chad are a little like the Reno and Rude of Bleach, sometimes. XD

Monday, September 26, 2005

Somebody rec me something, for the love of cheese.

You know what would totally make my day? (My day, which has been full of angst, hormonal imbalance, and horrible sessions of worst-case-scenario, that is.)

More Breakfast Club slash. I think I've read everything out there, and I know I shouldn't enjoy Brian/Bender as much as I do, but I can't help it.

(It's all Barbara's fault, really.)

That failing, I could really use some good Sandsibling fic. Something Kankurou-centric would be awesome, but I'd settle for well written Gaara in a heartbeat.

Failing that, I would love to read some serious, dramatic Eleventh Division fic. Though actually, that's probably harder to find than good Sandsib stuff.

'Course, I'm not likely to get any of those things, so I'd be most grateful for any sort of recs, most especially Naruto or Bleach, or FFVII Turkfic. Fluff would be appreciated, but angst or gen will do just fine if it's well written.

And if Wild Arms fic that isn't about the Quarter Knights even exists, could someone maybe pass the memo along this way?

*moody sigh* Totally incapable of stringing sentences together. Off to draw, eat cookies, and do homework, in that order.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

brief bit of NaruSasu angst: Mercy Street

I wish I could write something that wasn't complete and utter crap. (I really, really need to go home. *gnaws off limbs*) And also, this totally started out as pointless fluff. Consider it potential Blindsided continuity, even if it isn't, really.
----------

Orochimaru has ruined him; there are the obvious things, like his eyes and the steady ache of the curse seal on his shoulder. But then there are the less obvious things, like the nocturnal sleeping patterns, and the way the cold makes him sluggish and stupid.

The heater in Naruto's apartment is broken; during the day, he turns on the stove and curls up in a pile of blankets on the kitchenette floor. When Naruto comes home in the evening, he puts a kettle on the stove and coaxes Sasuke out of his nest with promises of tea and hot food.

Naruto watches him drink his tea with morbid fascination, as his fingernails slowly turn from pale indigo to a more healthy pink. Speaking requires too much effort; he responds to Naruto's questions and rambling with monosyllabic noises until he nearly falls asleep in his carton of take-out noodles.

He doesn't truly wake up until after Naruto has put him to bed; by then, Naruto is asleep, his arm a burning weight across Sasuke's chest. Naruto generates more than enough body heat for the both of them, and the warmth seeps into his bones, rousing him from his cold blooded torpor.

But he cannot move, and he cannot sleep; he cannot do anything but watch the indistinct edges of a patch of moonlight move across the floor and remember when he once would have been able to see it in sharp edged clarity.

Orochimaru has ruined him, left him powerless and half-blind. There is irony in his situation; he went to seek power, but he returned with nothing.

Sasuke has never had much appreciation for irony; now, he only wishes he were blind enough to miss the pity he sees Naruto's eyes.

Friday, September 23, 2005

thoughts on roleplaying

Tana is going to start calling herself "Tanavir of the Northern Sands," just to confuse the southerners who think there's nothing but snow to the north. Dealing with Can'deshi and Midling culture clashes in the intro today was hilarious; it didn't help that Tana decided to adopt ("keep" or "collect" would be more accurate) the gnomes and halfling in the new party, because she decided they were tiny and cute.

If I really wanted to be true to the character, I would play Tana as a much angrier, more suspicious, and more reserved person. On the other hand, sometimes it takes a very outspoken and flamboyant character to evoke reactions from the rest of the group. So I don't really mind cowing the entire group into submission with a godlike intimidate check and then shouting about missing weapons and stupid southerners- but it really is a little out of character for Tana.

Not, of course, that you would be able to tell it's out of character; I play her more or less the same now as I did starting out, if a bit sillier. (I forget myself so easily when gaming. I never realize my actions could be construed as powergaming 'til after the fact, unfortunately- I blame my having learned from my brothers, who were the twinkiest twinks to ever twink out a character. My one consolation is that I'm not playing a monk.) It wouldn't have been conducive to the plot for her to simply attack the new players, even if that's what she probably should have done. Attack first, ask questions later, once you've gotten them tied up- that's the Can'deshi way. Well, one way, at any rate. There are others that usually involve some amount of sex or grievious bodily harm.

Tana is fun to play as the slightly psychotic, packrat character she is now. She'll probably be a bit more wary of the new people in the future, but at the moment she's fairly convinced she can either kick their asses or con/coerce them into doing what she wants. It's worked fairly well so far, in her opinion.

I'm very hopeful for this year; if we can maintain the dynamic we had at today's meeting, it will be frickin' awesome. I'm a little sad that so many of our old people couldn't return, but I'm looking forward to seeing everyone at the oneshots once they start happening.

Oh, roleplaying. I loves you so good, I does.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

The zombies are finally getting to me, I think.

"That's disgusting! Do it again."

"But I'm running out of body parts!" There was a low, gravelly rumble from above, and he ducked another sudden volley of gore that launched out of the gallery below them. The worst of the mess was down there, but even the upper levels had reached a level of unsavory that was remarkable. They were both already encrusted with blood- the stuff was caked in every possible crevice, beneath fingernails, behind ears, between eyelashes. There were stains of other, even less wholesome substances mixing with the blood to turn their clothing a uniform shade of nauseating.

It was lovely. She pointed at the pile of viscera and other bits that had nearly hit him. "Look, there's one you can use. Quick, grab it before it goes down the drain."

He dove after the slithering pile of entrails, slipped on a puddle, and ended up under a table. Half a moment later, he popped up behind it. Someone's gizzard dangled over his ear like a particularly festive bit of jewelry. He half-slithered, half-crawled to the balcony railing and pulled himself to his feet.

"Hoy! Anyone lose an eyeball? I say! I've got an eyeball here, did anyone lose it? Anyone?" He waved the eyeball by a thin strand of muscle, causing it to bounce crazily in his grasp.

Below, the tide of red seethed and moaned as what few survivors as hadn't been liquefied or drowned stirred themselves. She leaned against the railing and watched as faces and limbs appeared in bits and pieces. "Disgusting," she murmured. There was another rumble from above, and another dozen bodies flew past their floor, already in pieces. The splash was spectacular when they hit the gallery; she ducked to avoid a pile of shredded flesh and bone.

After a moment, the writhing and bubbling subsided. He leaned against her side and offered a tongue and a knowing smile. It curled in her hand as she took it, slickly warm and bloody. She held it up and called down to the gallery, "Hello, down below! Did anyone lose a tongue? Someone seems to have misplaced it! Fresh tongue looking for a good home! Anyone? I say, anyone?"

The moaning and writhing began anew, as gloriously disgusting as before.
-------------------------------

So, people have been complaining about the temperature in the electronics lab- it's pretty chilly in there, but it's been awfully hot and humid lately. I think 68 degrees is perfectly comfortable, and I don't really want them to up the temperature.

Of course, towards the end of lab, I actually started to feel cold, so I put my jacket on. After a bit longer, I can't concentrate, so I start putting my things away. While I'm doing this, I turn to show Laura my hands and ask, "So, are your fingernails this blue, too?" And she's says, "Are you kidding me- holy shit!"

I love getting that reaction from people when I'm cold. My fingernails really do turn bright blue- poor circulation makes for such an awesome conversation piece, you know.

...what, the snippet? Damned if I know. Apparently I've got entrails on the brain. :)

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Bandwagon, ho! (spam spam spam spam)

So, I want to have Nintendo's remote control shaped little babies. (Yes, yes, somewhat behind the times, hushup.)

"But wait, V," you're asking, "aren't you an oldskool h0r? Don't you scorn newfangledness like syphilis? Doesn't this thing go against all of your convictions as a lazy, antisocial console gamer, the same way online games do?"

Well, yeah, kinda. MMORPGs offend me in the sense that when I play video games, I do it to be a nerd with no social life. I play them so I can avoid people. My objection to the Revolution's controller would involve protesting the amount of movement and effort required to do anything. But I imagine there will be an option to increase the sensitivity of the controller so you don't actually have to engage in an aerobic workout while playing Zelda; otherwise, I can only imagine the horrible things that will happen to people who crash into objects in their homes while playing. Generally when I'm gaming, the only parts of my body I want to be seriously involved are my thumbs, with the controller, and my ass, with the floor. None of these full wrist or arm movements- if I wanted to play tennis, I'd bloody well go out and play tennis.

On the other hand, video games are all about interactive storytelling; the Revolution is upping the level of interaction, and I think that's awesome. So my two cents on the matter look kind of like everyone else's: a nice blend of "WTF" and "F'awesome, dude!"

Y'know what else is awesome? Bleach 195. Ikkakuuuuuuuu! (I really want to cosplay Ulquiola solely for his skull hat. This probably makes me a horribly shallow person, but I do not care!)

Friday, September 16, 2005

Somewhat more collected thoughts on Advent Children, or I am a Screaming Incoherent Fangirl

My opinion on Advent Children would probably have been quite a bit different had I watched it with subtitles first. For one thing, I wouldn't have been able to appreciate the visuals as much; people can complain about dubbing all they want, but subtitles really are distracting. For another, it made only slightly more sense with the subbing- plot was not this movie's strong point, and it was very clearly secondary to the visuals.

Much like the game itself, it wasn't perfect, but I loved it anyway.

It doesn't really matter that the plot was inconsequential; call it blasphemous of me, but I really don't care that there were plotholes big enough to throw Meteor through. It also doesn't matter that the CG could have been better in places. The very fact that the movie- a sequel to a video game- even exists is all that really matters, in the end.

It's been eight years since Final Fantasy VII came out. Eight years- but who else remembers watching the commercials for it on TV in complete awe? I remember. And I remember watching the opening AMV sequence for the first time at two in the morning, exhausted and utterly enraptured. (The entire Final Fantasy series has had a huge impact on my life; of all the games, IV and VII are the most important to me.)

When I saw the first screencaps of the movie, back in October of 2003, they literally brought tears to my eyes.

It doesn't matter if you think the game was hyped beyond reason; it doesn't matter if you hated the characters and the plot, or if you think VIII or VI or X or any of the other games are better. Eight years ago, it was something special- and maybe that something was just a combination of keen marketing skills and the weight of Squaresoft's name, but you cannot deny that Final Fantasy VII had a huge impact on the RPG genre and video games in general.

Now, eight years later, that legacy lives on. The fans have won. That's what matters- Advent Children was made for the fans. Sure, it's just a huge marketing strategy to get us to buy more Squenix products, but it also reminds the older fans that yes, we are loved.

We get to see Zack in full FMV glory; Vincent and Yuffie, too. Cloud's limit breaks look even more awesome up close; Tifa may always need rescuing in the end, but she can still hold her own when she needs to. After crying foul at the end of the game, we finally have some resolution. Cloud gets his closure, and we get to see definitively that Aeris stays dead.

Sure it could have been better, but so what? It lived up to the game, and then some. And if it does well, it'll set a precedent for things like it. Maybe Squenix will love us enough to give us a sequel to FFVIII where Rinoa goes batshit and kills everyone. (I can always hope, right?)

Keep Rockin' on in MIDGAR

(That sign just makes me think "Nothing but strikes at Midworld Lanes!" and then I cry.)

So, I just started watching Advent Children...

Actually, I think I'm too busy orgasming over the clones, Reno, and Rude to make any sort of coherent post on this. (Reno! RenoRenoRenoReno you huge, screaming dork!)

Oh, Cloud. Stop that, your uke is showing.

Yazoo's voice is much deeper than I'd expected- Kadaj is the girly one, but I guess that's not unexpected. (He's got a fucking waist; from a distance, he resembles Edea in her sorceress getup.) Man, if the three of us were tall, stick-thin, and male, we would totally have to cosplay the clones.

The animation could be better; Marlene looks like a doll. On the other hand, this movie is less about the quality of the animation and more about the fangirl factor.

Case in point: ZAAAAAAAAAACK!

Loz is fuckin' badass. Sideburns! I heart sideburns. Tifa, however, is infinitely more badass than he is- OH MY GOD. CELLPHONE. CELL. PHONE. *gibbers incoherently*

...ahaha, Cloud totally hemmed his stupid coat by himself.

And the music! I just- ohgod. The music. And the Kalm Inn, and the church in sector six, and the way I really really want to call the Ancient forest the "Snowfly Forest."

*whimper* Vincent...cape...guh. *dies*

Also, Reno and Rude are apparently still cleverly disguised three year olds. They're the bestest ambiguously gay duo in the history of everything. Also, omfgwtfsunglassesyaye.

You know how you can tell when something is being emotionally manipulative, and yet, you just don't care? Yeah. *looks at the ending* Oh yeah. And this is without subtitles, which is probably better; I can make up my own plot rather than having to deal with whatever poorly cobbled together mess Squenix came up with.

...Yeah, okay, the credits just made me cry. I am weak and predictable, but- music. Some things are constants in the series, and I've been a devout fan for over fifteen years. I'm sad they didn't include the Crystal Theme, but hearing an orchestrated version of the final victory theme just puts me in an incredibly happy place. (My poor roommate had to deal with me shouting at the screen in glee for the last hour and a half. I think she's a little bit afraid.)

And now I'm going to watch it with subtitles tonight and experience yet another prolongued orgasm.

blah blah blah fanfiction

I really ought to reread the Naruto manga, just to remind myself that it's more than crappy filler (anime, I'm lookin' at you), badly paced fights (Dear Sasori: you suck), and rabid fantwits (oh, Chuunin, your wank brings all the boys to the yard). It might also help me, y'know, work on chapter five of the stupid fic.

In the meantime, however, I've finished the Gaara/Temari snippet for the sandcest drabble series, and I've edited the Temari/Kankurou one so that it's not as dull. (Interestingly enough, the version that I posted here was a second draft, but I think for the final I'll be reverting to the original with some minor trimming.)

Here's the Gaara/Temari, in all its one-sided glory. (I dislike the pairing intensely, for the record. I dislike any sort of Gaara het, because I see him as having far too many mommy issues to have a healthy relationship with anyone a girl. Though really, once you're writing incest, all bets are off.) It still needs work (everything needs work), but I'm halfway pleased with it.
------------
"Soft" (approx. 250 words)

Gaara settles his chin on his desk amidst stacks of papers and scrolls, and lets his eyes drift closed with the heavy, ever-present weight of exhaustion. The building is empty and filled with a rare, all-encompassing silence in the sleepy hours of morning. He lets the silence sink into his skin and rests, for a moment.

He thinks of his sister, but he does not think of her as his sister; he does not know how to. "Family" is still too unfamiliar a concept, still too raw and strange. So instead he pictures Temari wearing the same smile their mother wears in all of his blurry, sepia-tinted photographs, and he thinks she is beautiful. Gaara wonders if her skin, snow-pale as it is, would be as cool and inviting to the touch as it seems; if the gentle swell of her breasts and the pout of her lips would be smooth and honey-sweet beneath his tongue.

Outside the window, the moonlight turns the desert into an ocean of soft blue curves, but Gaara knows the moonlight is deceptive. There is nothing soft about the desert- there is no softness in the killing heat, or in the rough grit of sand. The desert is not kind to softness.

Temari is as deceptive as dunes drenched in moonlight; Gaara knows that her softness is all illusion, carefully crafted to hide the winter-keen knife-edge of her smile. If he were to touch her, he would feel nothing but the coarseness of sand beneath his fingertips.

The dull pain in his forehead and chest prompt him to open his eyes; he is through with resting for the night. Grains of sand shower from the corners of his eyes as he blinks slowly, and returns to work.
---------

*insert commentary on Oedipal complexes and other psychological things I have no qualifications to discuss*

Now I just need to write the Kankurou one...and then finish Wind, Sand, and Bone, and maybe work on Bone Harvest, since that's the Kankurou fic I really want to write. (I started it back in, oh, February. *eats ridiculously low productivity*) And Blindsided, of course, but that goes without saying.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Two necromancers and an otter walk into a bar...

Drake and Theron shennanigans in a bar, for 'Drakos, who is currently kicking back in Japan and consequently not here. *sad*

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

Theron found he actually enjoyed Drake's company, for all that the man was irritatingly egotistical and flaunted his aura in the tackiest possible manner.

Plaid. Honestly. It almost made him miss being colorblind.

Still, he was fascinating, and charming in his own obnoxious way- Theron didn't trust the planewalker any further than he could throw Brenon, but he was enjoying himself enough to let down his guard slightly. The final result was just the inevitable result of two wills clashing over a very personal subject, and a few too many drinks.

"Mindless, poorly crafted drones are all well and good if it's anarchy you're looking for, but what do you do when you want something more permanent? You need something with a little more autonomy and staying power."

"What's wrong with a little anarchy? Keeps things interesting."

"It doesn't last. And even chaos gets boring after a while. Besides, anarchy does away with all sorts of creature comforts. If the rest of the world is going to descend into disorder, it always helps to have people on hand to tend to your every whim."

"If your anarchy isn't lasting, you're not doing it right. And if it's boring, you're definitely not doing it right. As for creature comforts- I've got perfectly willing, living minions for those. I've found the living are generally better at conversation than the dead. Better diction, you know."

"Until they die, and then you're back to square one. It all goes back to permanence, and creating something that lasts-"

"Steady on, old son. Just because I'm not interested in playing Scrabble with my undead doesn't mean they don't have staying power. We could settle this once and for all- just point the way to the nearest graveyard."

"Are you insane? Do you know how many gods that would piss off?"

"Gods? Please. I nearly orchestrated the destruction of an entire world, single handledly. I'm not afraid of a few backwater deities."

"And I nearly conquered a continent with my army of mindlessly loyal but incredibly intelligent zombies and my godlike control over reality. Oh, wait, now I'm being redundant, seeing as I was a god."

"Was that a threat? Because if you're the sort of deity I'd be pissing off, you're really going to have to do better to deter me."

"Did it sound like a threat?"

"I think it might have."

"I think you might need to get your ears checked."

"What, not going to follow through? Come on, old son, there's nothing to be afraid of. After all, I'm just some- what was that quaint term you used? Arcanist? You're so cute when you're angry, little boy."

"Your endless stream of faux witty comments do nothing to hide the fact that you're a moron."

"Watch what you say, old son. Your heartbeat isn't fooling anyone."

"And your pathetic attempts to control me the way you'd control some flesh dripping half assed excuse for a Corpse are laughable- and when I say that, I mean they tickle. So stop doing that, before I turn your lungs into rock candy."

"Now that was a threat. A little silly and childish- I like candy, after all- but I think you're showing definite improvement. I knew you could do it!"

"Yes, that was a threat. Would you like another one, or should I just start dismembering you now?"

"On a scale of one to ten, I'd give that a six. You still need to work on your menacing glare."

"Do you want me to kill you?"

"Maybe I do!"

"Fine!"

They lunged to their feet at the same time, knocking over chairs. A pair of wickedly sharp knives appeared in Drake's hands; Theron rolled up his sleeves and let magic cloud the air around them, heavy and lemon-scented. They were both grinning fiercely; Theron hadn't had this much fun in ages.

The other bar patrons had gravitated to the far side of the room but were otherwise ignoring the two of them; the bartender gave them a slightly disapproving glance and continued polishing glasses.

Theron decided to make things a little more interesting- the air around him burst into flames. Drake lifted his eyebrows and looked faintly impressed; he gestured and surrounded himself with a myriad of witch globes, humming with power.

The bartender was looking slightly alarmed, and the fire detector in the corner was wailing. Theron reached out to steal away the air around Drake, who was dripping blood in a way that was more menacing than it had any right to be; in half a moment their argument would be definitively over and-

A wall of water swept across their corner of the room, knocking both of them over and extinguishing the flames.

"I leave the room for five fucking minutes and you try to burn down the building! I can't take you anywhere." Drake's "associate"- Finbar, Theron remembered- stood over them with his arms crossed.

Theron looked from the irate teenager to the sodden necromancer and grinned. Drake caught his eye and grinned back.

"The kid's a little uptight; you'll have to forgive him."

"Not a problem." Theron stood carefully and smithed away the water in his clothing. His hair still clung to his skull, dripping insistently down the back of his neck. "Buy you another drink?"

"Sure. But my zombies are still better than yours."

"Whatever." Theron stepped over a puddle on his way to the bar, followed by Drake.

Finbar gave them both a disgusted look, muttered something that sounded a little like, "I give up," and left the building.
---------------------

...FATALITY.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

The inside of my head right now:

Me: So, uh, who wants to do something interesting so I can, you know, write? Guys? Buehler? Anyone?
Dei: Too busy angsting over non-linear timelines, kthnx.
Tyler: Ditto.
Opal: Yeah, pretty much.
Len: Whee!
Lyra: Aren't you finished with this story yet? I mean, I'm here now. What more do you need?
Me: You're lucky Dei likes you so much, otherwise I'd totally drop something heavy on your head.
Lyra: I'm a pop superstar with the power of the cosmos. Anything I do? Is totally your own fault.

Me: ...You know what, Boffo? You suck. All of you. Who else have we got? Theron? You can't hide from Drake forever, we owe Gina a drabble.
Theron: Piss off, I hate bars.
Me: You agreed to this, brat. Come on, it'll be fun, you can banter at each other and Finbar can gnaw on things.
Theron: *sulk* Don't wanna.
Me: You're just upset because not only does Bren like Stella better, but Silver likes Blaine better- and Blaine's dead. So's Stella, actually. You're getting shown up by a bunch of dead people. The irony is staggering. And you're upset because Drake keeps calling you emo-boy.
Theron: Thank you, because I needed more angst. See if I ever talk to you again.

Me: Whatever, emo-boy. Okay, that leaves...Naruto! Come on, Blindsided people! Neji, you wanna make an appearance?
Neji: Not really.
Me: I wasn't actually giving you a choice, bird boy.
Neji: How about...no? Yes, I'm thinking no. ...Byakugan! ((o_o))
Me: Oh for the love of cheese, my figments are using emoticons at me. I give up. Naruto?
Naruto: There's sand in my boots! Damnit Gaara, why did you have to live in the middle of a desert?
Me: Hoookay, that's it, you're not allowed to spend any more time near FFVI. Please keep at least thirty feet between yourself and Kefka at all times, thank you, move along. But speaking of Gaara...
Gaara: *hides under rock*
Kankurou: *pokes with stick* Huh. He hasn't done that in years. You might want to come back later- this could take a while.
Me: Oh, buggafuck. It's a bloody conspiracy, that's what it is.
Temari: Or you're just lazy and looking for excuses.
Me: So hot, yet so cold. I don't suppose you want to finish that drabble series or the oneshot?
Temari: Bitch, please.
Me: *sigh*

I FAIL AT EVERYTHING.

Also, Gina, I miss you like whoa.

Monday, September 12, 2005

On Radrezhaean geography, history, magic, magicrafting, etc.

This got much longer than I expected, and I'm still not sure it makes sense. But, for my own reference, this is how magic works in Theron's part of the world.

Radrezhaea is shaped kind of like a long rectangle, and doesn't have many concrete borders. To the north is a giant forest that belongs to no country (Here There Be Dragons, literally), and there's an ocean to the east. The south dissolves into desert, which is no man's land the same way the forest is- nothing but monsters and barbarians past a certain point. The southwestern border is a mountain range, and the western border, which Radrezhaea shares with Rothcar, is marked by an enormous wall of fire. Yes, fire. Only a very small number of outsiders are permitted through the border every year, and Radrezhaeans who wish to cross over to the other side are encouraged to give up their citizenship and never come back.

The Firewall is between fifty and three hundred feet high at its highest and lowest points, and a ten feet thick everywhere but the crossing points. It was erected as a byproduct of Drazhene's Ascension- Drazhene being the first Voyance and the founder of the country in its modern, isolationist form. The Firewall is tied directly to the Voyancy, and draws its power from the same power well.

"Drazhene's Ascension" refers to the large scale magicrafting Drazhene performed when he killed his mother and father and achieved a state of godhood. The countryside was flattened, several thousand people were killed, and the entire western border caught fire in the process- but that's another story, entirely.

For the record, it's really easy to become a god in this world. People do it all the time, and there's a reason Rothcar is known as the City of a Thousand Little Gods. Being a god has a lot of niggly little limitations; self-made gods are rarely immortal, but they do have some control over reality in small areas. Technically, Theron becomes a god when he becomes the Voyance- the position is, by definition, that of a god.

Anyway, that's the country- ocean to the east, Rothcar and a wall of fire to the west, mountains and desert to the south, big scary forest to the north. Bren's village is on the edge of the big scary forest, the Capital is a little to the south east, along a major river, and the rest of the country is really, really flat. There are occasionally problems with floods in the central areas, when the Weavers and Watersmiths don't do their jobs properly.

As far as magic goes, it is incredibly rare for a person to be born without some magical talent. The country is a Thaumatocracy (that was probably spelled horribly, horribly wrong); it was originally founded by Magicrafters who were fleeing persecution in other countries. During Drazhene's Ascension, the Magicrafters were the only survivors left to repopulate the now-flat countryside.

Magicrafting is just another skill: everyone can do it to a certain extent, the same way anyone can play soccer, or play an instrument. Not being proficient in magic is treated much the same way as sucking at sports or music is. It's nice to have the talent, but if you don't, there are plenty of other things you can do.

Magicrafting divides the world into elements- earth, water, air, fire, aether, and a number of secondary elements. Everything in the physical world has a spark or an essence that corresponds to one of these elements, but these essences have more to do with the state of matter of an object than its composition. Anything in a solid state falls into the category of "earth," while any liquids or gases are considered water and air respectively. Fire is a tricky case, as is aether, and I'll get to those later.

The first skill a Magicrafter learns is to See the spark of elemental essence in a physical object. This is something just about anyone can do, unless they're magically numb. Most people only See elements, and feel them as lines of force, but there are cases of magical synaesthesia. A Crafter might Smell and Taste elements in addition to (or in place of) Seeing them, or they might assign textures to different elements.

Bren and Theron are both magical synaesthetics; Bren's Sight is exceptional, but he also Feels elements as different textures. The world looks and feels like a pile of regurgitated quilts to his magical senses- colorful and kind of squishy. Half the reason he's such a tactile person is because he gets both physical and magical feedback from touching things. The rest of the reason is just that he's a cuddle whore. Theron is magically colorblind as a result of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding his birth; he can See and Taste elements to make up for the his inability to distinguish individual types of elements by Sight alone. This is why he hates eating- he can't stand the taste of food in addition to the taste of magic.

Once a person has mastered the ability to See or otherwise sense elements, they'll go on to choose a discipline, if they have the ability to do so. Whistling is the most basic discipline, and it's a skill all Magicrafters must master with some amount of proficiency- professional Whistlers are always in high demand, though. Weavers and Smiths are the upper level disciplines, and the ones who do the actual "crafting." Smiths are much rarer than Weavers, but are often less useful.

A Whistler is able to extract the elemental essence of a thing from its physical components and give it physical form. Whistlers can work with any element, but most people usually have preferred elements or materials that they work best with. Crafters who can work universally are very rare. I'll use earth as my example; it's Bren's preferred element.

All Whistlers have different extraction techniques, but nearly all of them involve music. Music helps the Whistler align with the right frequency to extract the element; music also keeps a person grounded in the physical world when they're using their magical senses. A person goes outside of themself when dealing with elemental essences, and it's possible to get lost in them. Weavers have more trouble with this than Whistlers and Smiths, though.

A Whistler will need a piece of raw material- everyone has their preferences, and some Craftings require the essence of a certain type of material, depending on the desired outcome. Metal behaves differently from stone or wood or bone, though all of them go under the general heading of Earth. Raw elemental essence appears as a tangle to magical Sight; the Whistler's job is to untangle it and spin it into a form that can be used by a Weaver. Once untangled, the element is considered a "thread."

Extracting threads of earth from a stone will damage the stone's integrity and cause it to disintegrate, which is why Whistlers are supposed to work with their own raw materials and not, say, the support beams of a building. Very talented Whistlers can extract earth from dust motes; more often than not, professional Whistlers will just use Corpses for generic raw materials, and will expect their clients to supply any specialty materials they might wish to include.

Weavers take the basic skills of a Whistler and go a step further; Whistling doesn't actually do anything. They spin the thread, so to speak. There's not a whole lot you can do with a spool of thread; you could peg it at someone's head, but that's about it. Weavers generate patterns and latticeworks to hold the elemental threads. These patterns can then be applied to physical objects or people.

Weavers create enchantments- long term magical effects. A healer might Weave a latticework of earth, water, and air and apply it to a stab wound like a magical band-aid. The earth and water in the pattern would bind the wound closed and facilitate the growth of new cells, while the air in the pattern would keep out dirt and bacteria. Fire and earth Woven in the proper patterns can be applied to clothing to keep wearers warm; air and earth Weavings are used in smokestack filters on factories to remove dirt and other chemicals. Earth, water, and fire are woven together to fertilize crops and protect them from insects and disease.

A Weaver's versatility is limited only by his imagination and money. Because most Weavers can only handle a very small number of threads at a time, they need to work in tandem with other Weavers and Whistlers to be effective. It's important to remember that Weavers and Whistlers cannot work directly with the physical world; they can only interface with the essence of things, and then apply that to physical things.

Weavers and Whistlers are related in the way they work with magic; Smiths work in a different manner entirely. Magismiths are considered the elite among Magicrafters- nevermind that most of them are so weak as to be completely useless. They don't See the world in terms of threads and patterns, but they don't need to.

They interface with the physical world directly; they are the alchemists of the Magicrafting world. They are more limited by the element (or physical state) of an object; an Earthsmith could turn lead to gold, but they can't do a damn thing with molten steel. (Earthsmiths are also the plastic surgeons of Radrezhaea.) They do have complete mastery over that state of matter; a Watersmith with enough power can divert rivers, and a Windsmith can play with the weather. Magismiths produce immediate, direct results, which tend to be much more impressive to your average Sightless rube than the most complex and beautifully crafted elemental pattern.

Of course, powerful Smiths are amazingly rare; most of them can only manage very small works of transmutation. People like Shanonil and the rest of the Crafter's Council are one in a hundred thousand; the difference between their levels of power and those of a typical smith is like the difference between a faucet and a floodgate. For the most part, subtlety and versatility are the skills Magicrafters cultivate; raw power is unnecessary.

On Fire and Aether as Elements: In Which I Do a Lot of Hand Waving and Pretend It's Science.
If earth, water, and air refer to physical states, then fire as an element refers to energy- light, heat, sound, electricity. It's a tricky element to conceptualize and work with, but there are Weavers who specialize in patterns of light and sound- illusionists, basically. Smithing and Weaving tend to overlap in the area of fire, because the elemental threads are just quiescent forms of energy. Firesmiths are usually referred to by their specialities- Lightsmiths or Soundsmiths are the most common. Talented Firesmiths are capable of massive amounts of destruction- but those with the capability to screw around with gravity usually end up killing themselves very quickly.

Aether is magic, the sort that proper mages use. Magicrafters can See threads of aether, and they can extract it, but aether doesn't behave the way normal elements do, and there's a level of taboo associated with working in aether.

Normal magic in my Generic Fantasy World is done by taking a handful of aether and telling it to do something- "Set that person on fire," or "Pick up that book," or "Convince that person to lick my shoes." There are countless techniques for dealing with aether- things that involve herbs and incantations, or ritual circles and candles. You can have elemental mages, but even elemental magic uses aether- a mage from Rothcar or anywhere else in the world, no matter what sort of magic they practice, will use aether as their only energy source. Magicrafting is a dead practice outside of Radrezhaea, and only Magicrafters are able to extract elements from physical objects and interact with them.

Normal magic, with its incantations and rituals and reliance on aether, is completely and utterly illegal in Radrezhaea. They call mages "Arcanists;" the penalty for being an Arcanist in Radrezhaea is Blacklisting and exile or death. It was the mages who chased the Magicrafters out of their homelands, so even though the actual history has gotten kind of fuzzy, the Radrezhaeans are still holding a grudge.

So when a person, by some incredibly bizarre fluke of genetics and fate, is born with mage abilities in Radrezhaea, he or she becomes an Aethersmith. Magicrafting and mage skills are usually mutually exclusive, but every now and then someone will be able to use both.

Aethersmiths are mages who view the world from a Magicrafter's perspective; Shanonil was one of the eight Aethersmiths born in her century. Of them all, she was undoubtedly the most powerful and the most versatile. Aether, as an element, calls to the other four elements and all of their subcategories. In a Weaver's hands, aether is a binding element and a creation element; for a Smith, aether allows cross-element transmutation. Shanonil could set water on fire or turn air into mud; she makes it look like Magicrafting, but in reality, she's just using magic the way a very powerful mage would.

Magic is just a matter of willpower and imagination; Shan takes it as a matter of course that the universe would bend to her wishes, which is why she's so good at what she does.

The Voyance doesn't follow any of these rules and is a category unto himself, and so is Theron, to a lesser extent. Then there are the three divisions of magic outside of Radrezhaea, and the Shrive, but those are all subjects for another entry; this one has gone on long enough.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

cosplay thoughts

For next year...the three flavors of Link? Green Link with sword and shield, blue Link with bow and boomerang, red Link with hammer and maybe a bomb or two. The most important parts of the costumes would be the props, and it would be a pain in the ass to keep them light and maneuverable (particularly if we won't be staying in the city), but it would be awesome if we pulled it off. Alas that I no longer have a direct supply of leather, though I suppose I could always ask for some swatches...

Or, in keeping with the Zelda theme, various Links from Majora's Mask. This would require excessive costumery, but I'd probably have way too much fun cosplaying the Deku scrub.

I think we need to find more people to drag along; it would just make life easier in general with a slightly larger group.

Need to write something. *chews off arm* This is horrible, it's been a month since the last update and I haven't even started the next chapter of Blindsided. I think I need to get off campus very, very badly, before I hurt something or someone.

Also: holyfuckthatwasahugebugaaaaahhhhmakeitgoaway. Thank goodness it's not on my side of the room. 0_0

Friday, September 09, 2005

song call- Carbon Leaf, "Life Less Ordinary"

Live a life less ordinary
Live a life extraordinary with me
Live a life less sedentary
Live a life evolutionary with me
Well I hate to be a bother,
But it's you and there's no other, I do believe
You can call me naive but...
I know me very well (at least as far as I can tell)
And I know what I need

The night you came into my life
Well it took the bones of me, took the bones of me
You blew away my storm and strife
And shook the bones of me, shook the bones of me
By the way, I do know why you stayed away...
I will keep tongue-tied next time

Live a life less ordinary
Live a life extraordinary with me
My face had said too much
Before our hands could even touch
To greet a 'hello'
(So much for going slow...)
A little later on that year
I told you that I loved you dear
What do you know?
This you weren't prepared to hear
I'm a saddened man, I'm a broken boy
I'm a toddler with a complex toy
I've fallen apart, since the ambush of your heart

The night you came into my life
Well it took the bones of me, took the bones of me
You blew away my storm and strife
And shook the bones of me, shook the bones of me.
By the way, I do know why you stayed away
I will keep tongue-tied but...

Honey understand, honey understand
I won't make demands
Honey understand, honey understand
We could walk without a plan.
Honey understand (honey), honey understand
I won't rest in stone all alone
Honey understand, honey understand
I'm all ready to go
But you already know...

Live a life less ordinary
Live a life extraordinary with me.
If I could name you in this song
Would it make you smile and sing along?
This is the goal: to get into your soul
If I could make you dance for joy
Could that be the second-chance decoy?
The bird-in-hand I would need
To help you understand?

The night you came into my life
well it took the bones of me, took the bones of me
You blew away my storm and strife
And shook the bones of me, shook the bones of me
By the way, I do know why you stayed away
I will keep tongue-tied next time
-Carbon Leaf, "Life Less Ordinary"

This song is unbelievably catchy. It was on the Eddie Bauer tape last summer and it got stuck in my head so very, very often. I like Carbon Leaf, though, so that's okay. The lead singer's voice has a very pleasant vibe to it, kind of like the anti-Rufus Wainwright. (I've been looking for this song since the end of last summer; I'm quite pleased to have found it.)

Been downloading music like mad lately; naturally I don't take advantage of the free bandwidth at home. Instead I wait until I'm back at school where we have a limited amount. Genius, I tell you, sheer genius.

God, I'm tired.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

I hate funerals.

I need motivation. Desperately. I also probably need sleep, but I'd like some motivation. So, if anybody wants to request a drabble, you're welcome to it; Naruto and possibly Bleach are my primary fandoms, but if you want Final Fantasy, I could manage that. And, of course, the originals, mine or yours. I think I'd like to give writing actual, 100 word drabbles a shot. I need to improve my economy of words.

I rather think I need to read more Sylvia Plath, since I believe "Lady Lazarus" is going to stick to me the way Prufrock did. I'll have to start compiling the reading list for this year, in between all the Restoration lit I'll be consuming for class. (When a professor manages to tie the Deliverance, Sweet Home Alabama, and the Texas Chainsaw Massacre into a discussion on Restoration England, you know the class is going to be good.)

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Metadreaming

I have a tendency to post here about more personal things when I'm upset, rather than my livejournal. Just a warning to those of you expecting me to write about things that might be vaguely interesting in some context. Also a warning- sometimes my dreams are weird and kind of disgusting.

I rarely have recurring dreams; I used to not have them at all, but they've grown more common. Last summer I had work dreams; this summer, I've had numerous dreams about losing teeth. Not losing them in the second grade, "Oh! A loose tooth!" sort of way, no- these are nightmares, and I never used to have those, either. I dream of losing my teeth in an aching, bloody mess- first one goes a little loose, and then my teeth and gums just dissolve. I'll touch my teeth with my tongue to feel them sore and barely there, like a mouthful of cherry pits or chips of stone. Closing my mouth is agony, because the dangling edges of my teeth grate against each other, bone on bone. One will fall out and then the rest will follow, all at once, and it hurts. But the pain isn't as bad as the panic that comes from seeing all that blood and bone in the sink or in my hand.

The other night I dreamed that I was dreaming about losing my teeth; I woke up in my dream, relieved to see that it wasn't true- and then it happened in the reality of the dream. Then I woke up from that dream, because the feeling of my mouth falling apart is always disturbing and frightening enough to shock me out of sleep. Occasionally I wake up crying, but I can't quite say why, exactly, these dreams terrify me so much.

I've been injured in my dreams before, sometimes graphically so; it's never pleasant, but there's never any sort of recurring theme to dreams that involve pain. If I do wake up, it's because of the pain, not the fear; even my unpleasantly painful dreams are usually fascinating. Losing my teeth doesn't hurt much, but when the only thing I can taste in my mouth is blood and the feathery edges of my gums, it doesn't need to hurt. I'll be the first to admit that I'm really something of a wuss- but all of my various phobias are very minor, and these dreams induce a level of panic that my low-level claustrophobia and social anxiety will never approach, not even if I find myself stuck in a collapsing tunnel with a hundred strangers.

...Okay, maybe not quite that bad. Because that would actually be pretty fucking awful. But it's still horrible.

I haven't been sleeping well, which is the primary cause of the bad dreams and my current inability to string sentences together properly. (The not-sleeping-well causes the dreams, mind you, not the other way around.)

There's more wrong, of course, but I can't find the words to express it. I hate that feeling- I'm clumsy enough with words as it is, but this feeling of complete and utter impotence is endlessly frustrating.

Classes start tomorrow, and I'm completely exhausted- but I don't want to go to sleep.

song call- Lostprophets

So here we go again
Another time, but it feels the same
Got sick of waiting here
Set sail on concrete waves
No survivors left to save
Too late for the walking dead

We'll make it on our own
Breathing our own air
Cuz no one else will care
No one really knows
Need more room to shout
Time is runnin out
But even through your doubts
We will still be here
We will still be here!

See it all, I see it all
Still kill, still kill the old way
I'm gonna die before I fall
Don't try to sink me

You and I doin different things
People hide but I see their face
One that's full of hate
Their apathy's not affecting us
Maybe they ride on a different bus
Realize that we'll never change

We'll make it on our own
Breathing our own air
Cuz no one else will care
No one really knows
Need more room to shout
Time is runnin out
But even through your doubts
We will still be here
We will still be here!

See it all, I see it all
Still kill, still kill the old way
I'm gonna die before I fall
Just try to sink me

Oh-oh last time I'll fold
Oh-oh this is the last time I'll fold

See it all, I've seen it all
Still kill, still kill the old way
I'm gonna die before I fall
No one's savin me
-Lostprophets, "We Still Kill the Old Way"

Fun song. I've got a Champloo AMV to it that's thirty different kinds of awesome. (Something to add to the list of potential Renegades, Inc AMVs- for Naruto, or Bleach, maybe.)

I'm reduced to making song calls because I seem to be physically incapable of writing complete sentences. *frustrated*

Monday, September 05, 2005

fic recs, caps lock abuse, and an excess of exclamation points

As promised, these are not Naruto. Because I do read things in other fandoms. So I give you some Bleach and some FF and a bit of Saiyuki. As always, when I finally decide to do a rec post, I can't find half the things I've been reading. Clearly, I suck.

Bleach! My newest obsession, since the latest Naruto chapters have been sucking. I'm an 11th Division fangirl, so many of these are going to reflect that. They're also mostly humor, because the angst and drama all tend to revolve around characters that I just don't care about. (Rukia, I'm looking at you.)

The Dreaded Three Step by vez. Yumichika always gets his way in the 11th Division, but there are some things Zaraki will never let him get away with. (Silliness!)

Pick up Lines from Hell by hey-diddle-diddle. One sided Zangetsu/Ichigo. Poor Zangetsu, he gets very lonely in Ichigo's headspace. More silliness.

Untitled drabble and art by explodinguterus. Yachiru is adorable and evil, and that's all that really needs to be said about that.

Actions Speak Louder by beckingham. General 11th Division drabble. Of course they believe in love at first sight. (Not actually humor!)

Morning After by mimma. Renji/Byakuya with very silly footnotes. I normally can't stand the pairing, but I'm a sucker for (so many things) silliness and footnotes. And, by the same, Stupidity, which is some 11th Division shennanigans.

Author Rec- Moonsheen. You've probably read all of Moonsheen's stuff, but I'm reccing her anyway. Go search through the memories or scroll down, pretty much everything is good. This Untitled Drabble gets a special mention, because of the assbanditry.

Author Rec- Celeste1. Read everything of hers. Just do it, I don't care if it seems daunting. Especially read the drabbles (ff.net), yes, all 144 of them (livejournal). It's her fault I 'ship Shuuhei/Yumichika and Chad/Ishida and Ganjyu/Hanatarou. I can't do more to reccommend her without large signs and possibly confetti.

Final Fantasy! My first true love, particularly the older games.

Author rec- Black Jester. FFVII and IX oneshots. In particular, the first three Turk stories, Veracity, Colors, and Numbers, and Tomorrow Will Be Dying, a Freya and Amarant piece.

Stuff of Legend by Lirilith. FFIV far-into-the-future-fic from Edward's (that is, Gilbert's) perspective. A curious, slightly angsty sort of "what if," and anything that incorporates the spoony bard in his proper capacity as a storyteller is a good thing.

(Is it bad that I want to write OT3 fic for FFIV? I kind of think so.)

Saiyuki-
Tunnel Vision by incandescens. General Tenpou, as seen through the eyes of Konzen. I like how Sanzo is in denial no matter what incarnation he happens to be in.

ALRIGHT, I LIED, HERE'S SOME NARUTO ANYWAY. (My goodness, but I am an obsessed fantwit.)
Unnecessary Things by harukami. Zabuza/Haku, AU (no ninjas, but the setting is similar), happy ending. It's just- yeah. Beautiful. Go read, it's amazing. And it has a sequel! Contentedly Ever After- now with parfait!

(Non sequitur no jutsu! You know what makes me amazingly happy? MY DORM ROOM. IT'S BETTER THAN YOURS. I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE, MY ROOM WINS. *cough* Yeah, okay, some things just need to be mentioned in every forum possible, you know?)

Sunday, September 04, 2005

For the love of cheese, Blogger!

Testing, wot wot?

That lovely pair of eyes belongs to Gennosuke of the anime/manga Basilisk, funky coloring by yours truly. The layout still needs tweaking (if, by tweaking, one means beating with a stick, of course), but I think it's finally doing what I want it to, for the most part. I don't understand why my coding never quite works. I should probably take a class or get an actual book on it, but as far as I can tell, everything I've done is standards compliant. *sigh* It's true that I'm too lazy to build a layout from scratch, but I'm thinking I ought to give it a try. The original layout this current one is modified from had some atrociously messy code; I may not always be able to get my own alterations to work, but at least I know which tags go where.

Basilisk comes out next June; the manga is being put out by Del Rey and the anime by Funimation. The manga is five volumes long (but don't quote me on that) and the anime is 26 episodes; unless the translators keep the manga in its full, bloody, unedited glory, I doubt I'll pick it up.

In other news...I'm rereading Shibumi, since it's still one of my favorite books ever (I dearly want the new edition, because it has a Go board on it and looks absolutely lovely)- but some of the shine has worn off. The first part, dealing with the CIA screwup, is still as delightfully snarky as ever, but the section devoted to Nikko's childhood reads like a Mary Sue fanfic written by a first year Asian Studies major focusing in Zen and Japanese culture.

Is this going to keep me from quoting all the anti-imperalist bits or from kicking Volvos? Hell no. But I may skip through the cherry trees in Japan to the explosions in the Basque mountains. Alas, I am so shallow, and so easily amused. :)
Oh, sweet Chrisy, I've got my music back. How in hell did I survive this summer? *cuddles music files* There, there, darlings. It's okay. Mama's got you, yes she does.

Right now, I think the best way to describe Seph's case is "very gay and very geeky." ...I should've resisted the urge to put those Rave Master things on him, but they were so cute, I couldn't help myself. Now I think Seph needs a little more pink to round things out. Perhaps cafepress makes tiny stickers; that would be awesome, because the simple Renegades logo would look great as a sticker.

I wanted to write today, but I didn't; I'll write tomorrow, probably, after Orientation 101. Tonight I'll sleep badly and I'll wake up with a backache, but eventually my spine will grow accustomed to the bed. I'll eat in the dorms tomorrow, and it will make me sick, but eventually my stomach will grow accustomed to the food again.

I'll survive this year. It shouldn't be too difficult; it's all just a matter of finding my feet, in the end.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Go Go Cactusman! (And some Stella Matin)

I fucking love Cowboy Andy. His theme song pwns. (boing boing) Cowboy Bebop remains one of my favorite animes of all time- Shinichiro Watanabe is a genius (though it's a shame Samurai Champloo really doesn't hold a candle to Bebop). If there's no one else in the dorm, and if the cable is working, I'm totally watching the movie in the TV room on Saturday. I get the room to myself for a few days 'til Gill moves in; I'll have to see if my wireless will reach to the TV room.

And I just saw the little blip of a teaser for Naruto on CN and aaahhhhh*splat**ded* "Rule the school?" *dies a death so full of death, I am dead from it*

And now, some Stella Matin, Theron's Story style. Theron's life? Sucks.
----------------

Theron had good days, and he had bad days.

On good days, he woke up almost happy.

Oh bad days, he woke up his mother.

It felt like drowning, the first time, as though he'd woken up underwater. Everything was indistinct and blurry, and none of the air he breathed in reached his lungs. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't a problem with his body- he was drowning in memories. He woke up as himself only moments later, and went back to sleep, too exhausted to contemplate the new memories. In the following weeks, he gave no thought to it, and so he had no one to blame but himself when it happened again.

The second time, he didn't wake up at all; he was simply and suddenly someone else.

Shanonil loved walking along the upper balconies of Silverlock's manor almost as much as she loved exploring the catacombs. Rothcar was a strange and wonderful place- nowhere near as colorful as Radrezhaea, but so much larger and louder than the Capital could ever hope to be.

Silverlock indulged her and gave her little gifts- but never anything so trite as jewelry (not that any Rothcaran crafter could ever compare to a Jewelsmith). He gave her flowers, exotic things shaped like praying hands and colored like the Weave of a sunset. She wore them in her hair and Smithed them into crowns and garlands until they wilted, little hands curling in on themselves.

She found him charming and outrageous and utterly unlike the Voyance in every way save for the draw of his power, which was bright and intense and Wove itself through his skin in dizzying patterns. They shared a love for power and luxury; they were too alike, really.

Her seduction was a foregone conclusion, and they both knew it. She went to his bed laughing for the simple joy of it, heedless of the way her voice fell into the wrong octave and the sharp, unfamiliar angles of her body.

Theron woke up in Silverlock's bed to the cloying smell of flowers and the horrible, squirming sensation of Shanonil's memories sinking claws into his consciousness.

He spent the next hour curled over a sink, convulsing in dry heaves until he could taste blood in the back of his throat; Silverlock stood in the doorway, and laughed.
--------

Stella Matin is kind of like Katamari Damancy. No, really. It rolls through my head and picks up characters and storylines from everywhere. The current score is seven characters from three separate, unrelated storylines and two different universes.

I wrote up a brief character whatsit on Silverlock three years ago (March '02, if you want to stalk my archives), and he really hasn't changed much over the years. "Twisted" is still the best description for him. "Sadistic opportunist" also works, if you feel like getting specific. He does, however, see everything he does to Theron as being for Theron's own good.

Theron didn't actually turn into his mother; he isn't possessed by her or anything like that. He was used as a repository for her memories when he was still in the womb- kind of like a backup harddrive, actually. They were sealed away and he wasn't supposed to access them- but Whimsy kept the Weavings maintained, and she can't do that when he's in another country. When the Weavings broke, the shock of being inundated with Shanonil's memories caused Theron's personality to shut down.

Theron will forgive Silverlock eventually; he'll argue the semantics of consent, but in the end he'll probably just file the memories away as belonging to his mother and deny, deny, deny.