FINE!!! you get a story from both of us you mean (but cute) girl

She’s leaning up against the side of the building, tight bodice doing it’s best to keep her assets corralled and failing its job miserably. Sleek leather boots ride all the way up past her knees, under her skirt, where no one will have a chance to see them and ask awkward questions. La’Jonndra pulls her shawl closer around her bare shoulders, doing her best to appear as a demure street whore instead of her usual brassy self, and failing miserably, like her bodice, to keep her nature in check. Her usual dealer is late, very late. She’s been on this corner for nearly half the night, and has already had to fend off several attempts by drunken would-be customers who labored under the illusion that she actually was a brothel reject, forced to pimp her own wares on the streets of this dirty little harbor town.
La’Jonndra sniffed, the less time they spent in this hole the better, she had no idea what in the Seven Bells of Hell the Captain wanted her to do exactly, or what purpose the informant served, except to paw her and make ridiculous innuendos, but she was getting very -very- tired of waiting on both of them. She wanted real treasure, not foolhardy escapades in safe villages.
She nipped her watch out of her pocket, squinting to see it in the squalid glare of the street lamp. The lamp, predictably, decided this was the moment to blow its self out, and our saucy heroine is left standing, or rather, leaning seductively, in the dark. La’Jonndra cursed, lighting up the corner for a brief instant with the force of her oaths, illuminating a shredded petticoat. It’s silent for a moment, save for the sound of muffled swearing, then La’Jonndra’s head clears the ruin of her dress and this time the feeble sparks of her “expressive language” show that she’s dressed in skin tight leathers… hermmm… possibly bringing to mind a bounty hunter in a run down bar looking for a kill… *shakes head* no, never mind… she most defiantly looks wicked though, thigh high boots, tight leather jerkin, an off-the-shoulder linen shirt with large billowing sleeves and a wide leather belt with pistols sticking out of it at impossible angles. She ties a sash around her wild billowing hair, flicking it into place behind her golden hoop earrings that jingle with charms from all sorts of interesting and dangerous places. She’s tired of waiting on this damp street corner, tired of listening to a drunken fool of a captain whose idea of a daring plan was to dress his first mate up in a poor excuse for a fashionably alluring dress and set her out on the street hoping for informational handouts.
The port is quiet, of course at this time of night only the pubs are still doing business. La’Jonndra snitches a rowboat (it’s just borrowing, really) and, still spouting mutterings of direness and death, takes herself out to the ship.
Riding on the tide of midnight, the ship is a beautiful thing to behold, light wood and dark rigging, the Jolly Roger stowed in an aft locker. La’Jonndra smiles up at the sides of her lady, letting the rowboat drift away in the salty brine as she swings herself up the rope ladder to the deck of the ship. Michael and Gregory, obviously supposed to be the night watchmen as they’re playing cards and not looking out at all, nearly fall off their crates when she hits the deck with a light scuff.
“Miss!” Gregory snaps her a salute, only managing to whack his spectacles off instead of appearing manly and subordinate. La’Jonndra frowns at him scrabbling around on the deck in serch of his eyes; she is not in the mood for clowning around when Gregory is anything but clumsy and ridiculous.
“Where is the captain?” Michael and Gregory look relieved when they find out that the forbidding look of doom on her face is not aimed at them.
“In ‘is cabin Miss,” Michael wavers, clutching his hat in his hands, squashing it more then a bit; “‘E’s having ‘is dinner, I’d expect.” La’Jonndra snorts and whisks off, flinging mounds of unruly hair about for effect.
Captain Evan is sitting at his cabin table, drinking wine and chewing slovenly. (Trust me, it was slovenly, not sloppily, you’d have had to have been there.) His dirty fingers inches away from the pistol on the table in front of him. La’Jonndra whirls in with the scent of salty air and impending death. She doesn’t bother to say hello her only senior officer on board the ship, but instead cocks her pistol with a deliberate air (after all, can’t have a waste of ammunition, and a hole in the ship is never a good thing, so best not miss) and shoots him straight though the heart. The astonished body of the former Captain Evan topples off to the side and La’Jonndra seats herself in his chair. She rings the delicate pewter bell sitting beside the wine. The cabin boy bows in, squeaking at the sight of the body on the floor. La’Jonndra quirks an eyebrow, kicking her feet up on the table and sending the butter flying. “Clear this mess up, will you love?” La’Jonndra surveys the cabin with a disdainfully wrinkled nose. It reeks of boot blacking and gunpowder, but then, once they got under way, the sea wind would clear that out in no time. She pulled the maps out of the desk drawer, which she can just barely reach without breaking her carefully relaxed pose. Setting one of them up against the roast lamb, she began to plot a course in her mind. She hadn’t planned on captaining the ship, it was just it was about time they got some proper booty, that’s all, really...

*tee-hee* is silly...

a song about toesies...

(for this to work properly, you have to crouch, no, not squat, crouch...oh look, get up on the edge of your chair, perched on your feet...now hunch over like, there you go! no not that far, you'll fall off you stupid git...yes, right there! hold it... hold it... now pull your hands in close to your chest, bob a little, strech out your neck a bit... there you go! that's a proper crouch, now then, you have to do this in a sort of croon... what's a croon??? *gasp* good goddess, you don't know how to cro... *sigh* okay, okay, you know how to make silly voices, right? no? damn... this is not working... hermm... wait! *sudden inspiration* you've seen LOTR, right? well then, talk like Golem then! or sing, rather, cause this is a song...oh good grief, no one can see you, JUST DO IT!!!! *e-gad* get over yourself, have a little fun...)

right then...

A Song About Toesies

ooooh... toesies toesies
lovely roseie toesies...
painted purple, pink and sparklsies
laaaa... wriggledly toesies
that flap aroundsies
wrinkledly in the wind of Marsies
squish squish
in the mud of seasies
that fly on the tipsy toesies
of randy little mousies
that dance aroundsies
the mistletoesies
oooooof Druid-ly-sober-monksies
wheyhey, the curds of Maysies
that cows called Bessies
givesies
to drink and sup
of the pewter cupsies
and sing for the greensies
of fairy-ly toesies
toesies that prance
that dance
and sing to their own little toesies

(it'd help if you wriggled them about a bit, cause otherwise, it's pointless... i mean, come on here, would you want to look at flat toes? now do it agian, this time really get into it, maybe bounce a little, lotsa fun... you're gonna feel silly sometime, better if you do it by choice, i always say)

WHEYHEY!!!

I would like to express a very astonished thank-you to those spastic lovelies who came to Hardee’s last night. It was unexpected, but quite wonderful! I mean, it is a very rare thing for people to come see us at work, and it meant a lot. It’s like “whee! I have FRIENDS!!! And not only do they want to see me at a time when I most certainly look like several miles of bad road on the way to hell, but they even hug me when I smell like combo #7 with fries and a coke.” J. I had no idea, I mean, I’ve been telling people for the past year not to come see me at work, but when they totally ignore me, and actually do it? It is a great feeling of being loved. Ah…my Lady Sally, Jamesy, Brent, Lauren, and The Angel (yep, he’s back…and strangely nice last night, I think he was trying especially hard, he looked like it was a strain J *tee-hee*…I suppose he isn’t always horrid, I mean, I’ve seen times when he can be quite charming, like when we were all hiding in the closet at Jamesy’s surprise party and we had to gag him with a tie because he kept giggling… times like that…but most of the time, he gives me no reason to think of him as anything but waspish…still! One must hope! I might get my sitting after all!!!) At any rate, enough about my artistic fantasies… (And dear reader, if you are good, I might paint you in one of them…ha J )…I just wanted to express my astonished pleasure in seeing all of you… and you simply must tell me where you work and when, so I can return the favor and the feeling, because it is quite nice, I felt happy for the rest of the evening, even when forced to take trash out to the dumpster, when it is dark outside and my insanely evil imagination decides to play tricks on me. (Mean Anthony… ha! But a lovely if quite crazy (Antonius Vesanus) Anthony… and yes, that was Latin, check out the mad skills)

The passing wistfulness of faithlessness

Across another Christmas morn
So rang out the bells of Christ
And naught there was to truly hear them
Save the few
The faithful host triumphant
Who with choired hearts await the star
And the cross that shadows, with it

In this fallen Eden
Those of us with faith no more;
Who’ve never felt the touch of grace,
Whose eyes are empty with disbelieving;
A hunger is all we hold.
Driven by questions away from the bliss
That warms those whose hearts never wavered
We feel the same first seeds of doubt
That were the terror of youth

And even if the lines
“Adeste Fidelas”
I shall sing for all my life,
Still my fate, forever more,
Will be to wander godless
The joy of belonging, the wages of my unrest
Though were it not for my uncertainty
It is a path I would gladly have followed

may i have the envelope please?

"...on behalf of Interim Chancellor Robert Barnhardt and the faculty and staff at North Carolina State University, it is my pleasure to extend congratulations and notify you of your acceptance for admission..."

my parents almost cried

on the subject of movies

~ truly madly deeply is one of the best sappy romance movies i have ever seen. it has alan rickman in it, and that is always a plus (threefold) i do love that man :) wonderful actor. i am an absolute sap for romantic movies, though a bit of cynic about it. i mean, they're wonderful and whooshy (that's the sound of being swept off of one's feet) and they do give you a happy glowing feeling (rather like having one's pants set on fire) and it is a sort of "awww!" *sigh* good sorta feeling... but i mean seriously? i know it's never going to happen, there's no such thing as true love, well, there is, but it's extremely rare....anyway, i mean to say that i adore romances, they're my secret weakness...but don't tell anyone, ha, it'll ruin my image :)

~the third harry potter...not a bad movie, at all... i liked it a great deal, i mean, much better then the first two, amazingly better...nothing like the book, but close enough that it was recognizable... and i did like the casting, very nice (yeha, it had alan rickman in it) and they did a wnderful job with the hippogriff...much better then they did with the centaur in the first one...

~league of extrodinary gentleman (and one woman) THANK-YOU ANTHONY !!! (got it for christmas :) )

snow falls on the road.
it eddies about the tires of the transport vehicle in a swirl of bleached color, falling for an instant only to be swept up when the wind captures it to dance again. llanwyn and i are watching jeremy stalk on the hardtop from inside the cab of the truck. he's less then happy with the weather, but there is nothing he can do about it. he has his hands on his hips, never a good sign, stareing off into the great gray wash that is the night sky. a sky that only extends to the edge of the pool of light. llanwyn sighs beside me. i look over at her, the reflected glow from the headlamps illuminating her face from below, leaving it slightly sinister looking. but then, llanwyn always looks slightly sinister, at least to me. she's not what you'd call pretty, not if you've grown up looking at females without hair on their face, but she is striking, and sometimes that's better then being pretty, at least then people take you seriously. and felinoid or no, i would never take llanwyn as anyhing less then seriously. i have the scars to prove that. llanwyn scoots over to the driver's side door. rolling down the window, she pokes her head out.
"Jeremy!" he turns his head slightly to show he's listening. " We need to start up again before the roads are completely covered. Get back in the jeep." he looks out at the darkness around him before him before shaking his head at the world in general and turns to come back towards us. llanwyn watches him come, not minding or probably not even noticeing the snow that has begun to coat her hair. she is smiling, and i feel the contentment they share from even this far away.
the attack comes without warning. jeremy is there, alone, and then he is overcome with writhing bodies, claws and teeth flashing in the night. llanwyn by-passes the door altogather, vaulting out of the window in a surge of sinew and fury. the gun catches on my jacket, but i rip it out of its holster beneath my arm regardless. the cab rocks when i stand on the door jam, taking aim over the window. i curse. i can't get a clear shot from here, not with llanwyn and jeremy twisted up in the enemy. i dive out of the way when a body hurtles towards me. i roll in the snow with a nightmare incarnate, all glittering yellow fangs and cruel intent. the gun goes off with a roar, but i keep kicking out of adrenaline until the body has fallen free. i scramble to my feet, tripping myself up as i go to llanwyn and jeremy, still in front of the jeep. i get there only to find nothing to do. llanwyn has made very short work of the group that entraped her lifemate. dark blood stains the snow, giving color to its lifelessness. llanwyn kneels in the cold, checking jeremy for injury. he bats at her feebly, more through a sense of customary objection then any real protest. he's trying to stand up, but llanwyn is holding him effortlessly down until she is satisfied that he is fit to associate with the living.
"i think we should get going as fast as we can, " i say, filling the empty chamber in my gun. "they'll know where we are for sure after that." llanwyn looks up at me, pulling jeremy to his feet. jeremy winces where once he would have cursed, knowing full well that such things annoyed llanwyn to no end. he nodded.
"the sooner the better."
the transport vehicle rumbles quietly forward in the night, snow crunching under the tires. llanwyn is silent, cleaning her knives and her claws, both being clotted with blood not her own. jeremy is driving and, as usual, i am begining to nod off from the swaying motion of the jeep. i shake my head to clear it of visions. looking out the window, into the reflection of the cab. all that is left of my task force riding in between the folds in the curtian of night. me and llanwyn and jeremy, three out of twelve, going forward into disgrace because of our failure, but for now existing in companionship and understanding. the attack was not unexpected, but it was a complication i would rather have avoided. still, we are almost to our destination, and that is never a bad thing, no matter what awaits.

a small note

THE
CLAIRE
IS
HERE

*'nuff said*

a hypothetical relationship of equalities

a begining

it's late night
the quiet dawn
coming on like thunder
and we will stand face forward into the light
into whatever the world might throw at us
and i would never let you stand alone
i would always guide your steps
and i would never let you fight alone
heaven help us if we both get lost

i want to be the one who saves you
when your back is up aginst a wall
and i want to be the one who holds you
when your pride has taken the fall

and an ending

i have wanted for all my lifetime
to have need for just an instant
and i want to always be the one...
but i won't be there at all

in this life we have only sadness
sorrow wrought from a world of madness
dying fires in your eyes
embers in my hand
from the bridges we have burned
all that's left of us will be ashes in the wind

in the restless jungles of dreams

Sins of the father
Blood of the mother
Am I not the lucky one?
Caught in the middle
Of a fate woven
Warp of truth dispelled,
Weft of wrath compelled


Open ended sentences
Left lying in the dirt
Crystal shaded emerald eyes
Left buried in the sand
Ended ancient memories
Left burning in the veins
Of those certain seldom rhapsodies,
That only sing of pain


If I could judge the distance
Then I might make the leap
The one that throws my mind out
And gives to my soul lease
I could filter my eyes
So that all I see is sky
The one that hesitates too long
And lets my insecurities by


They tried to warn me
But I wouldn’t take heed
The lies that were planted
Have already taken seed
Watched as I tore away
From the reckless arms of truth
Laying comfortable down
On rock bottom

and a big thank-you, stage left

i would now like to formally thank anthony for coming to my rescue monday night. a knight in shining armor on a white horse he's not, butthen, armor freezes cold weather and a horse would be too cold, but a red buick and a trenchcoat are the best thing next to it :)

katrina

the cat has been staring pointedly at her bowl for the past several minutes, and it has quite rudely refused to fill. she turns and examines the mirror for a few moments... then turns back to the bowl... still nothing. she looks at it askance and trys a hiss, skitters sideways just in case the bowl should dislike being hissed at. nothing. she peers at it agian... the bowl is still stubbornly empty. she, being rumbly around the middle bits and very much awake, though it's two am, comes to the decision to take this matter to the source. she hops down off of the bathroom counter, pauses at the door to crouch and pounce at invisible birds (she has never liked mice very much), and stalks elegantly around the bookshelf.
she pauses at the door of the eldest's room. this being her first choice on the cat-crusade, as the eldest usually gives her nibbly-bits. things loom at her eye level. things that might like a cat for a snack... she arches her back and growls at the shapeless forms... they do not move, still watching her, she thinks. she turns her back on them and trots stiff-legged across the hall, arrogance and nonchalance in every hair. ready to run if the floor monsters try to attack. the other is still asleep, even at this late hour (disgraceful, thinks the cat), but the cat has her ways...
the other stirs in her sleep when the cat nestles herself in a small compact cat-ball on the other's chest. the other has her head turned away from the cat, and the cat, undaunted in the slightest, creeps forward with her claws in the bedspread until she can put her cold nose in the other's ear. the other sighs in her sleep, but otherwise does nothing more then twitch. so the cat begins to purr. the other sits bold upright in bed, eyes wide open. the cat, wise in such things, springs clear before the other can flop the bedclothes down on her by accident. the other regards the cat, still muddled by sleep. had it been any other of the pinkies (as all cats call humans), the cat might have been put off by the other's apprence, what with the other's hair sticking out at all angles and lurid purple pajamas with pretzels on them gracing its form. the cat dances in the other's field of vision, and the other, thinking that that it might need to get up for some reason, not knowing that the cat wants something of it yet, walks (or trips rather, for it cannot see in the dark as can the cat) to the bathroom. there it sees the object fo the cat's desire, the empty bowl. the other reaches out a heavy hand and rubs the cat's ears. the other says something to the cat, but the cat, not deigning to interpret pinkie-talk, only hears the rustle of the food-bag as the other fills her bowl. the other goes back to it's bed, it's purpose fufilled, but the cat, engrossed in her beloved bowl, does not even notice.

monday *erk*

1) LOTS OF SNOW!!!
2) gig tonight went well, han rocks, kile left, i got the encore by myself, so lovely, i didn't piddle on myself or anything otherwise humilating...
3) i love my ellen, trex, and jessica, who i got to see today...
4) i love my jasper, who hurts, and i wish him soothing soul-balms...
5) i love my han, who talked to me and listened to me cry today for the last time and told me to get off my duff and get the lovin' i deserve...
6) guitar sitting for a blond headed john-child who has a play tonight and a broken car, so it sits in my room and pouts cause it's not with it's owner...
7) LOTR ROCKS!!!!!! (chick with a sword...killing horrid flying wyrm thing...go girl, woot woot woot!!! kick it's evil demon arse!!!)

a fragment on hearts

hearts made of plastic,
hearts made of rune,
hearts made by mistake,
by hearts made of blood
i've got a heart of velvet
and a heart made of steel
strong enough for anything,
yet soft enough to feel......

*sigh*

today was an uneventful sort of work day, nothing big, mostly sunday-like (i.e. slow as hell)i did back line work for a short hour and i must say, i simply do not understand why it takes back line so blasted long to do anything...i get uber-hyper when i cook, so i do everything three times as fast... but they are too frickin' slow...ah well, they aren't bad boys..just about as smart as brick-bats :)
then my lovely Lady Jay decended from her cloud in heaven (which surprisingly looks a lot like the apartment her, anthony and jim share) and i, after changing with the swiftness of hot lead, took her to a ballet, our last big thing togather before she goes back to tennessee.... oh i shall miss her, my blissful singer...i will have to go visit her, of course, that is givcen, but she will no longer be within shouting's distance of the school. (or within arm's distance of anthony when i need her to give him a good poke in the back of the head)...she cried a bit when i hugged her good bye tonight, and i will admit i cried too, in the car, on the way home...which was probably not a wise thing to do, as the roads are a bit icky (SNOW!!! GODS, FINALLY!!! i've been waiting all year!!!! SNOW!!!!!) damn and hell-fire, but i shall miss her...
the ballet was lovely, i saw quite a few people that i knew from school in the cast, and i was surprised to see a very none descript sort of girl from in my english class dancing the part of the sugar plum fairy... i am going ot have to tell her what a wonderful job she did tonight tomorrow, i know nothing of ballet (even though my aunt and gran do it) but i could tell that she was absolutly wonderfully good...ahhhh...and the mice!!! a large group of very young ballet persons, dressed as the mice (we went and saw the nutcraker, just in case you haven't realized that yet) who were quite a bit too young to have a clue about what was going on...all wiggled thier rears, scratched their ears, and one, it's tail having fallen off, ran back to retrieve it.... they were adorable...jay, who wants children as much as i do not... commented to her boyfriend ( the one who wanted to light the broiler on fire) that the ballet made her feel especially maternal... poor jim... the definate look of a sigh with an *oh shit* coming after it flitted across his face...hhahaha farewell my darling jay, keeper and expounder upon the wonder of the mighty jayness, that mysitical energy that rules our small circle of friends, i shall love you always, milady...*sigh* in the hopes of seeing you soon i leave this entry

sat on a mat, did the cat

today was icky as hades at work, the chain-broiler gave out on us today (even though jim, anthony and i were all for lighting it up manually..haha..involving chad's lighter and some rolled up paper) and i actaully had people drive off on me, a first for me until recently when our back line has gone quite downhill, and now this blasted broiler thing... well, anyway, my beloved 'tony-child (he hates being called that) will be my manager tomorrw, and that is always a blast...
i was wondering why i spell so badly, as several people have mentioned it recently in rapid succession... i did do some thinking on it, i really did (hey, i was at work, it's not exactly mentally stimulating), it's not because i'm stupid, because, though it sounds like hubris to say it, i am not. and it is not because i do not read enough, i was made fun of constantly through-out grammer school for that very reason (though the laugh is on them, you are looking at the top AR point earner grades 5-9). i have come to the concluion that it is a combination of mild laziness, apathy and extremly bad typing (most of my "the"s come out spelled "teh"s)...so now you know, don't ask me anymore, i can't help it. so piss off about it, mmkay?
i have started incorporating small changes into my wardrobe, nothing outrageous, but i will have to say, i am glad we came to this school... i would have never even have thought it permissable to be as free with my ideas in my old school, i suppose i was repressed? hahaha, as if, most of the people will tell you two of the things i am not is shy or quiet.
i would like to post a hearty congradulations to the quiz bowl!!!! they apparently spanked arse like banshees at the tournament! i expected no less of them, of course... especially my beloved Lady Parlier ( or should it be "madame parlier"??? don't forget the guild meeting on thursday darlin', you're presenting, as usual!) and she is quite definatly no one's fool...
i think i'm starting to have a "crush" (we really must have a better word for that) on someone... i'm open to suggestion from several people (meaning if they asked me out, i'd say yes) but one of them is unavoidably straight, and the other has no intrest and the third would never think to ask... at any rate, i think i might have a crush on someone, i really do...now then, wtf mate??? i thought i was through with that sort of thing!?! i do remember quite certianly swearing off the whole relationship nonsense...and here i am, contemplating it, yet agian! i hate being human, it really does bite wind... these horrid little emotion buggers must spontaneously regenerate...

tonight

And I
Yearn like an addict
For these moments of insanity
To help distract me
From my momentary humanity
For once,
I don’t want to be held responsible
Tonight,
I don’t want to be a leader
Yeah, tonight, I just want to be a girl
Tonight
Just a girl

Who am I?
Child born of difference
What am I?
Merely the offspring of fire wind and rain
I who can only see the stars out at night
With a mortal’s day-blinded sight
A scared day-dreamer,
With a heart full of marking time
Kept in step tonight
Tonight…..
Just a girl

I’ve
Spent all my time
Watching for the other side of truth
Wondering if it’s just me
Or the simple follies of youth
So go easy on these bones of mine
Don’t ask too many questions
Cause I’m just
A little bit desperate
And I’m not ready to give in tonight
Tonight…
For once,
Just a girl

FYI

parsec: 3.26 light years (19.2 trillion miles) ( 206,265 times the radius of Earth's orbit) stands for parallex of one second

on the subject of children

two of my children are in pain. one hurts teh ache of teh broken-hearted, the other is simply depressed. the latter is my fault. i lead him one, i will admit it freely. i did not mean to though, which is never a satisfactory defense, and one that i must take care not to have to use in the future. and now he is coming down froma binge, and predictably, feels like merde. i tried the friends with benefits thing, but it simply did not work. i could see him treading the path that would injure him, and i stopped what i was doing as soon as i could, but he was still hurt, and i do accept that as fully my fault. i was not ready for a relationship when we started this whole affair, and i am not certian i am even ready for one now. though i do have to say that i am at least starting to notice people agian... which my friends say is good, they say i was brooding... *gak* as if...and after all, he was one of my children, and i feel like i should hang myself like odepious's mother for even thinking of kissing one of my pets...
the other child was dumped (horrid word), quite bluntly. he was quite infatuated with the girl. there is nothing i can do to heal another's broken heart (i couldn't even heal my own at first), but i do wish it were diffrent, because one of my children is in pain, and i feel all stupidly maternal, without any right to feel so. it is none of my buisness, i am sure, but i still feel like i should be tending to the aches and pains of mine beloved. though, after all, if you've been adopted into the eckerd clan, we do reserve the right to ply you with hugs and food until you smile for us.
any how
i feel like a very old lady with a thousand grandnieces and grandnephews. and they will never know what things their cookie giver and hug tender feels in the deepest recesses of her heart... what she thrills to in the depth of night, who steals her heart, and who breaks it. they will only know of the willow, reaching down to enfold them in her boughs, cradling them close until they are ready to leave the shelter of a child-anchient's arms and start on their ways agian, with never a thought of the one who gave them love. as it should be.
i have found an angel. i would very very much like to paint him, but he is also a very tichy kind of person with a rapier wit and a foul sort of sarcasm. he's ok, but i really do wish he'd not speak to me half the time... but gods, when he plays that cello, he looks like one of the botticelli angels...and i want him to sit for me very very much... *sigh* i want nothing to do with him romantically, but i do want him to sit still, shut up, and play his cello long enough for me to spin off a canvass *though it might not be as good as i want, most times my vision exceeds my skill*

python strikes agian!!!

"...What? King of the who?..."
Monty Python and the Holy Grail

avalon

"...The Arthur of whom the idle tales of the Britons rave about even to this day is a man worthy to be celebrated not in the foolish dreams of the deceitful fables, but in truthful histories. For long he sustained the declining fortunes of his native land, and roused the uncrushed spirit of the people to war..."
-William of Malmesbury
History of the Kings of England, 1125

uh....no title, this is weird even to me

He sits, looks out over the sea. It would be warm here, for the sun is shining, if it were not for the ever-present wind that comes up from the water. There is the smell of brine and heath in the sun. And the wind brings with it a mist that dries everything cold and rough, stiff with salt. I am standing in the grass, knee deep in it with the stalks brushing against my calves. He turns to smile at me, and a sound I have never heard before comes from him. He is laughing, with his head tilted so that his hair falls back from his face. It is an easy laugh, deep and rich, startling with its abandon. I smile in instinct, an unexpected facial jerk upwards. There is something not right here, but I know not what. He speaks.
“I can hear it.” He laughs again, the same sound as before, seeming as delighted as I am with the sound of it. His voice is as warm as the laugh that came before it, finding it’s equilibrium at last. “It reminds me of something I might have heard in my childhood. Not that I ever was a child.” The smile fades for an instant. “It is hard to even imagine such a thing, when all one has ever known is the service.” He shakes his head, tossing away any memory of what he has seen in his mind with a twist of the neck.
He flicks an ear at me and walks away, tail whisking in the grass. His shoulders catch my eye. The scars are gone. His back is as smooth as if it had never been marred, light chasing its way down his spine. And I know that this is a dream. I do not wish to wake up, for there is something that I cannot remember that awaits me in consciousness. I struggle with all that I have to stay asleep, to remain in this, this tranquil unreality that seems as solid to me as life. For all the time I have known him, he has had the ritual scarring of his people. And now it is gone, as if it had never been. I listen, out of habit, for the sound of his feet on the turf, knowing full well that I will hear nothing. Some things never change.
He stands at the cliff edge, the sun behind him, and his silhouette almost too bright for me to stand to look at. He beckons to me, the light racing over his arm in an arc of fire as he calls me. I tread the stones that line the walkway to the cliff’s edge, stepping from grass onto rock that is crumbling into ruin. Beaten by the elements, by the rain and the sea, and forces that have been at work since probably before the thought of us was even conceived. I walk to him, not uncomfortable with the height as I would be in wakefulness. He grasps my upper arm and steers me around to his side. “Look there.” He points downwards at the rocks that are alternately drowning in and rising on the surf. “There. The shards of my immortality.” He looks for a fraction of a second longer, and then laughs for a third time. This time not the natural laugh of before, but a forced bark, harsh and cynical. “I should think I would rather like to join them.”
“Alexis…” He silences me with a wave of his hand, the sun blazing golden over the fur on his arm. He tugs something out of his belt. The sun whickers on the flat metal of the dagger of his house, the crest on the handle a sigil of his bloodline. He closes his hand over it almost absently, curling his fingers loosely around the blade. He grins at me, white teeth a flash in the dark of his face. He tightens his grip and jerks the knife free. Blood wells up to run in rivers down his wrist. He grimaces in chagrin, glancing at me sheepishly. “I might have overdone it.” He wipes the blade off on his pants, and lays it on my palm. I do not even feel it when it breaks the skin. I am staring straight-backed into his eyes. He folds our hands together. He is not smiling; his face is very hard to read. “And now in my brother, I will live forever.” He lays the knife against my stomach and wraps my hands around the slim death of it.
He steps to the edge of the cliff. Stretches up into the sun. And I know what he means to do.
“Alexis...” I say again. “No.” He leaps into the horizon’s termination. He hangs there in the sky, swan diving in slow motion. And then he is gone. I step to the edge. I do not even remember looking down, but I see him, lying broken against the rocks; curled like a child with those now sightless eyes open upward. Staring blindly into the sun.
I wake with a start. Now I know what I could not remember in my dream, that Alexis is dead. That he has been for almost three days now. I turn over and press my face into the pillow. Crying into the stifling darkness. Something heavy gouges into my ribs. And even without turning on the lamp beside me, I know it is the dagger. There is no way that it could be here, but it is. Alexis carried it with him always, and I did not see him the day he died. But now it is here in my hands, and I do not care how.
My brother is dead.
I loved him with a strength that cannot be expressed, even between a man and a woman. The blood that sings in my ears is now the same that he felt in his veins. An entire race fell to ruin by our good intentions, but I will make it my oath to sire a house that will remember them.
My brother is dead, but I will live for the both of us.

random quote

" What's wrong with selfishness and egotism? We live to die smiling, don't we? Mission. Destiny. The cycle of rebirth. Forget them- they have nothing to do with it..."

-Saiyuki (vol.4)

not so good...but at a loss

i am almost afraid to see you
shimmering eyes of gold
i am almost afraid not to meet you
for the unraveled feeling grows

i do not know what you have awaken
deep in this blood of mine
but every time the moon turns
i know it is changing time

you came from out of nowhere
to give me this gift i hate
you try to tell me it is meant to be
but i cannot help but think
that you are just tired of being alone

to subdue these new-found urges
i lay on the edge of a knife
listening to my heart
racing forward out of fear
i prowl about the edges of my mind,
as the sidewalks slick with rain

my dreams haunted with struggle
a pantomine clothed in skin
i am only human on the outside
and something by far less noble beneath
ivory fangs in ghostly shadow
and a guilty pull in my gut

*shame*

what the hell was i thinking, saying nothing of note happened today??? my beloved anthony had to go in for an exploration thingy...*sigh* poor child, he was all sleepy and non-talking when i went to see him at lunch (hahaha, i'm a senior, so i get away with this stuff...well, all seniors have it so it's not THAT big of a deal) hermmm...i think i like anthony silent (hahaha), but anyhow, he's ok, they didn't find anything horridly wrong, just some scar tissue, and he is going to be a little dopey for the rest of the day, cause they had to put him under for it...but at least he's ok...though seeing him lying on the couch like that did give me quite a turn...*gak* i am such a mother hen...i must get it from my father... *smiles and sniggers*

chiao!

*can't resist!!!*
..." this is for all the lonely people/thinking that life has passed tehm by/don't give up until you/ drink from the silver cup/ and ride that highway in the sky..."

..." all my instincts/they return/ the grand fascade/so soon will burn/ without a sound/without my pride/ i reach out from the inside..."

..."oh dream-weaver/i believe you can get me through the night..."

okay, that's it, i promise, for now, anyway... nothing happened much today, so i have nothing really to write, but i will say i can passibly amuse myself (i.e. i can hum really relaibly every song we play in jazz band and aparently, it's quite obnoxious to the people around me...hermmmm can't imagine why, i mean, it's all in tune :) )...actaully, i do have somethings to chuckle over... jahn ran his wagon into the rear of someone's truck today, and it's busted all to hell (not funny! not funny! i'm NOT LAUGHING hahahhahahahaha)...him and jasper have taken to wearing chick pants lately, it's quite funny. can't say it does much for their figures, but it is funny how much they've discovered they like the strechy-ness...