July 29th, 2007

Capri - color

Kiss

“She kissed me.”

Ryan looked back at Kieran, startled. “She what? Little Capri?”

Kieran grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. Not so little anymore.”

Ryan sat down, exhaled. “She’s what, fifteen?”

“Yep.”

“Fifteen.”

“You were doing more than kissing at fifteen.”

An irritated shrug. “Point.”

“She wants more.”

“You can’t actually be considering it.” Silence from Kieran, and Ryan looked up sharply. “You can’t!”

“It was a hell of a kiss, Ryan.”

“She’s… a child yet.”

“Like I said, you were doing more at her age. And don’t give me any it’s-different-for-boys bs.”

“Wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say that it’s different for people with more life experience.”

Kieran spread his hands. “Point. But it’s not like… look, Ryan. If it’s not me, it’s going to be someone else. She’s not a little kid anymore, and she’s living in a tower full of guys. If I say no, she’ll find someone else. And I don’t trust anyone else. Not with Kip.”

“Not even Halloran?”

“Halloran – has rejected her.”

“Seriously? But the soulbond…”

Kieran shrugged. “He worries that she’s a kid with a crush, that this is hero worship. That he’d be taking advantage of her.”

“It’s a valid concern.”

“One that would easily be dispensed with if he’d just stop blocking the soulbond.”

“Point.” Ryan sighed. “So she turned to you.”

Kieran gave a weary smile. ”I have been considered attractive by people with excellent taste.”

“Flatterer.”

“So…?”

Ryan stopped, regarding Kieran suspiciously. “Wait. Are you asking my permission?”

“It seemed appropriate.”

“I’m oddly flattered.”

Kieran took his hand. “Consider it?”

“This is all you being altruistic, hm?”

“Oh, entirely.” Upon seeing Ryan’s serious expression, Kieran sobered. “It was a hell of a kiss, Ryan. She is… gods. I never thought I’d be thinking these thoughts about Kip, of all people. Yeah, I want her. But desire isn’t blinding me.”

Ryan nodded. “Is it okay if I talk to Halloran about this?”

“Of course.”

“Be careful, Kier.”

“I will.”

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Napalm - Fandom

Tater Tots

Napalm perched a tater tot on his fingertips, eying it skeptically. "So what exactly is a tater tot?"

Johnathan gave him a faint look of disbelief. "You know what a tater tot is."

"Actually, I am not at all certain."

"Potato?"

"See, I'm not certain that this actually has any potato in it. It's got that... that frozen-and-reconstituted-starch thing going on, like fast food french fries. But I'm not sure there was every a potato involved here."

"Then why do they call them tater tots, smartass?"

"That's what I'm asking you," Napalm explained patiently.

Johnathan regarded him silently.

"What?"

"Just imagining all the ways I could torture you for putting me through conversations like this. With no jury finding me guilty."

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Are you happy, robyn_ma? Look what you made me do.

Unrelated: I can has body paint.
Capri - xanadumalion

Shoes

She gave away most of her parents' clothes, after they died... but she kept her mother's shoes. Every so often, she ventured downstairs to the storage room and tried them on; for months, years, they were always just a bit too big, and she'd tromp around, barely keeping them on her feet, as she sorted through old belongings.

The day they finally fit, she cried.

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Am being body-painted, so. Short posts.

Also? Am afflicted by snot goblins.
Napalm - Fandom

Fire

Control.

He focuses intently, utterly. I can do this. I can do this without losing it.

Air wants to be on fire. At least, around him it does. It's like all he has to do is give it permission, call it into his hand...

...but the thing is that it wants to stay on fire...

So. Control.

He holds it in his hand, feeling it ignite... and he calms it, sends it back to quiescence.

Cool.

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I can't sit for more than a minute or two without being utterly undone by snot goblins. Which is making the body painting go very slowly. Thank goodness marmota is patient!

I'm pondering going to nonfic or really freakin' brief posts, as my hand and wrist are starting to twinge.
Knowing is half the battle

More early Alanna reposting

(Alanna.
Age 10.)

I am wearing my best dress in my House color. And my favorite necklace.

This is a very special day.

My name is Alanna ni’Tamra, Lishaya ni’Dasaroi, Kithraya ni’Tamra. That means that I’m the leader of House Tamra, and the Lishaya of all of the Dasaroi.

The closest thing to a Lishaya in human books is a Queen. I’m the queen.

At least, we’re pretty sure I am.

With Dasaroi, it’s not like with humans. With humans, the daughter of the last queen is the next queen. With us, there is reincarnation. (I’m pretty sure I spelled that right. Olivia says it’s important, so I studied it.) When the old Lishaya dies, she is reborn. And the child that’s the new Lishaya will have all of her memories and her personality. She’ll be able to access them, I mean. Everyone has their own personality.

So they’re pretty sure I’m the Lishaya, and they tell everyone I am, but I can’t remember everything all the way back to the beginning yet, so we can’t prove it.

Today is a special day, because today we’re going to prove it.

The special gift of House Tarak is the ability to read everyone – to read their past lives all the way back to the beginning. They call it bloodreading, even though it isn’t actually about blood.

(The special gifts of my House are empathy and healing, and I’m very powerful at both, which is part of why they’re pretty sure I’m the Lishaya.)

Today, I’m getting my blood read, even though it’s not really blood. And then we can say that I’m definitely the Lishaya.

It’s Olivia who comes to my room to get me, and I’m a little disappointed, but I don’t let her see that. It’s not her fault I’m disappointed. Olivia’s nice. But I was hoping it would be Jeramie. Of all of the Councillors, I like Jeramie best. He’s always talked to me like a person, not a little kid. And he’s a lot younger than the rest of them. And he’s handsome. So it’s nice just to be near him.

Also, Jeramie makes me curious. It’s like he has a shadow inside him – like there are two Jeramies. But only when he doesn’t know I’m watching. That goes away when he sees that I’m paying attention.

So I was hoping it would be Jeramie. But Olivia’s not bad.

She asks me if I’m ready and takes my hand, and we walk down to one of the conference rooms. I’m happy to see that Jeramie’s there waiting. He’s standing by the back of the room, hands behind his back, and he gives me a nod and a smile, and I smile back. Janos is close to the door, of course. I’m pretty sure Janos is the person who’s officially in charge of me here in Shayara.

My father isn’t here. I didn’t realize that I was hoping he would be til I saw he wasn’t.

Collapse )

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Still with the bodypainting. Is shiny.
River - Touched

Heart

From the planned-a-while-back Shayara calendar, Mr. February:

Image
Kieran, leaning against the wall in his favorite room of the Library, next to the window. His hair is unbound, cascading down over his shoulders. He has a sad, ironic little smile. His arms are folded low on his chest - in one hand he holds a tattered construction-paper heart, faded red and worn thin.


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Yeah. Hand hurts, so posting = minimal.

marmota has painted a Greek-key-like pattern on my leg, gold on purple with pretty borders, and now he's working on a flower on my breast. :)
Gir - I wanted to explode!

Ghosts

They remind me of Hiroshima ghosts, powder flash-printed on the walls - but the strobe light flashes and they move. Not the silhouettes, then, but real ghosts, angular movement just a little short of realtime.

They would be ghosts, if I'd done my job.

I look down, suppress laughter, and crumple the napkin into my pocket. One of these days this jacket will be excavated, and whoever reads the endless torn bits of cocktail-napkin haiku is going to kill himself or get so drunk that the difference is mere semantics. I am not a good poet. Neither am I a happy poet.

Jack silently refills my glass, and I give him a half-smile. He does not approve of the drinking. I look like a teenager and always will, and I believe that his disapproval is a combination of the emotional impact of seeing a "kid" drink and the notion he has that I've been modded to look like a kid. Jack is 100% natural. He hides his disgust for modding very well - has to, if he wants to run a club in this day and age. But he and I know each other a little better than that. The amount of bourbon that lies between us gives us a certain amount of familiarity.

I told him what I really am once. He didn't believe me. No one ever does. That's the only reason I feel safe telling those scattered few who I think have earned a piece of the truth of me. Their disbelief protects them - but I have told them what they deserve to know. I have been honorable.

I don't have much. But I have my honor.


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This is not Shayara; this is Maggie's yet-untitled story, the cyberpunk story, the one where I channel all of the sciencegeekery that doesn't get to come out in Shayara.

Iz can be sleep time nao plz?
Book Love - by RoseFox

Bibliophilia

For the website.

[Image: The Library, an imposing edifice, all columns and might! Architectural stuff mostly free to be designed by Mouse, but it must have steps leading up to the main entrance,and it must have a widow's walk; this is where Donna holds her teas.]

[Basement: Not currently clickable.
First Floor: House Tarak and Donna
Second Floor: The Library: Books
Third Floor: Not currently clickable]

First Floor:
House Tarak:
Kithraya: Donna ni'Tarak
House Color: Brown

Traditional Gift: The Taraki have an unusual sort of telepathy. They're able to tell not what you're thinking, but who you've been. They can trace your incarnations back to the very beginning, before the existence of Shayara. This makes them the most dangerous House to the current regime (after, of course, House Tamra... which, since the Purges, is no longer a concern). The stronger Taraki, particularly Donna, would be able to tell for certain whether Alanna is, in fact, the true Lishaya reborn. Donna has been known to wonder aloud, pointedly, what they're so worried about. The nature of their gift has made the Taraki the traditional lorekeepers of Dasaroi society; indeed, the stronghold of House Tarak is in the city's library.
Appearance: As House Tarak was not one of the original Great Houses, their physical type is not as well defined as that of the other Houses. Taraki tend toward a more quiet beauty, one that can fade into the woodwork and observe; they tend to be slim, graceful brunettes, brown- or grey-eyed.

[Image: Color portrait of Donna]
Donna: Donna is the Kithraya of House Tarak, as was her grandmother before her - the lines of descent of House Tarak are the clearest of any House. She became Kithraya in the years shortly after the false council took over Shayara, and has been quietly sowing dissent for most of her life. She is one of the oldest members of the true Talthar Kithrayna and, until recently, took the lead in many of the proceedings thereof. She has been succeeded in this position by Kieran, who she helped raise after the death of his mother.

Second Floor:
The Library
[Image: bookshelves. Random books within are clickable - a few at first, and we'll add more as we go.]
[Topics: History, Language, etc.]

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Lollipop! - xanadumalion

Suggestions

I asked Team Venture what I should post about. Their suggestions:

* quail
* porn
* MechaPenguin vs. Godzilla
* porn
* Snape
* porn
* monkeys, with three counterexamples
* expansion monkeys vs. linear monkeys
* exponential monkeys vs. linear monkeys
* expansionist monkeys vs.imperialist monkeys
* Australian monkeys
* porn
* monkey monkey monkey monkey!
* monkeys = food? monkeys !=food?
* sporks
* macguffins
* porn


wired_lizard is now naked.

slipjigand pseydtonne, too.

And basically... the combination of hand pain and congestion that does not let me sit for more than a sentence at a time = no writerbrain. So it's basically a miracle that I'm still awake at all, and I'm just going to concentrate on staying awake and doing minimal typing.

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cassette

(no subject)

See, the thing is that marmota is a hell of a distraction. In a good way.

If I could only breathe through my nose right now... oh, the things I'd be doing...

And now I can't think of *anything* else...

...except how tired I am...

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Hearth

(no subject)

We're now sailing into what's classically my hardest time. Around 7, I actually get my fourth wind, getting all jazzed about the fact that I'm about to reach the finish line. But 5-7 tends to be hell, because I am just so exhausted and just a little too far from the finish line to rally.

I can do this. I know that for a fact.

Current discussion = whether the Beatles are overrated and who here has fucked a Republican.

Ask us questions!

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Hearth

(no subject)

It's getting light out.

In Shayara, this would be about when the fog would roll back, unfurling from streets and buildings, evaporating in the sun.

Gods, I love fog.

Right about now, on a weekday, is when Adam would be getting up for work. Sometimes I wake up and have breakfast with them; I prefer that to the mornings I sleep through the alarm...

As for right now, I am right out of cope, and having difficulty keeping my coordination together for typing.

Coed Naked Blogathon!

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Starfire/Huh? Wtf?

(no subject)

Am cleaning up around the house to keep myself away. Have pried mugs away from hands: "You don't need any more coffee. No, that wasn't a question, honey."

We all agree that it's much easier to stay awake and alert when blogging as a group. Go Team Venture!

I will post Team Venture's totals when we have them.

Yes, there are more pictures. No, I'm not uploading them yet.

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Grey Council - by chaos_by_design

Reader Question

redfishie asks: "if there is reincarnation- will Alanna ever be reborn? and if so when?"

Yes! There is reincarnation. The Dasaroi used to be immortal, but now they reincarnate. And they have varying degrees of knowledge of/contact with their previous lives.

Alanna will be reborn a few years later, and her future incarnation's story is currently fascinating me...

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Capri - color

(no subject)

I am just so damn happy. My world is just an amazing place, full of amazing people.

I'm really exhausted, yeah. But I'm way happier than I am exhausted. And the way things look, I'll get to continue being happy for a long time.

*beam*


Go ahead - make my day. Sponsor me.

One more post coming!

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We're good. Yes we are.

Team Venture, signing off!

This has been Blogathon 2007. Thanks to you, we've raised $2,956.69 so far for the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center (thanks, sbisson and coffeehouse)! Dude, you rock! It's not too late to sponsor me - click here to sponsor me!

My most heartfelt thanks to all of my sponsors, to the people who donated nifty stuff to be auctioned, to the people who stayed up with us all night... you are making something wonderful happen!

And I salute the rest of Team Venture, and all of my other fellow Blogathonners. You guys persevered in the face of mental and physical exhaustion, and you did an amazing job. I am so excited for all of you, and for all of your charities!

And with that, I'm out, off to fall into bed for a good long while. This has been Blogathon 2007. Check out the Blogathonners I've highlighted, see how much they rocked this, and sponsor themif you can!

G'night, all!


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Hearth

...aaaand we're back.

Thanks to yudinsoha and happypete for making that a nice even $3,000!

And yeah, I just woke up. Another lovely bout of sex to tuck me in, a Lunesta, and I slept like the dead til almost 5.

Healthwise, my cold is in full bloom, with my head stuffed and nose fountainy; I have a cough and sore throat, and the cold's making tentative forays into my chest. Which usually turns into bronchitis, but that's okay, because I have a doctor who won't fight with me about self-diagnosis of Stuff What Happens All The Time. "You always gets bronchitis? Well, you know your body!" *listens to chest* "Yeah, that's probably bronchitis. Here's your antibiotic." And the plantar fasciitis is being evil; I'm hobbling because my feet won't flex.

Emotionally? I feel fantastic. :)

My content wasn't up to snuff this year, for the most part, but dude, you should see me hobbling around with this cold. I clog worse when I sit, so I had to get up and walk around to drain the mucus every few minutes. Blech.

Which was your favorite entry?

And I am going to ask you a favor. boutell made a movie in 24 hours for his Blogathon project! Please watch it and rate it, things draw more eyes there if they're rated by multiple people!

I'm going to go get caught up on everyone else's 'thon stuff now. :)
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