infinitepryde

Good Night, Tanith Lee

infinitepryde — Tue, 26 May 2015 20:22:49 GMT

http://scifibulletin.com/2015/05/26/rip-tanith-lee/

Dammit.

A Small Grey Lioness Has Despawned

infinitepryde — Mon, 12 Jan 2015 03:05:43 GMT

RIP Willow, 1999 - 2015.

If we hadn't adopted her, she'd've been put down in a couple of days, with all the other cats from the shelter as a major respiratory virus went through.

The first vet we talked to, who worked with us and several friends to nurse her through that virus, told us that we shouldn't expect her to live past three; she was just too young when the virus hit, and it would interfere with her growth and with her eating patterns, and the relapses and the secondary infections would do a number on her.

She made it to fifteen.

Ten days ago, we took Willow in to the vet's for dehydration and not eating. Turned out she was losing a badly infected tooth; but the vet took X-rays, and those showed a massive shadow in her chest, almost certainly one or more tumors occluding almost the entirety of one lung. We opted to treat the infection and make her comfortable for however long she had left.

A week ago, we brought her home. And she has spent a week being handfed her favorite foods on her imperious stare or commanding meow (and purring so hard while eating that her whole body shook and she could barely aim her head), and haunting her favorite places, and sitting between me and my laptop purring until she drooled from happy, and sleeping on the corner of my husband's bed with his hand draped over her as he slept, and watching her people and being cuddled and petted and loved. She took rounds around the house -- all three floors. She watched us playing World of Warcraft -- she *loved* watching us playing that. She used to watch us playing EverQuest when she was younger, and she'd leap up and bat at the screen, and we'd announce "A small gray lioness has popped" as an explanation for why we were suddenly AFK. Cat spawn in the real world, time to deal with that.

She understood doors, and she'd angle a leap at a doorknob so that her paws could catch it and she'd swing it open with her weight. She understood outside, too: outside had snow and rain and icky things. When we were in California, we could leave the outside door open, and she'd never venture more than three feet away ... and if we weren't in sight inside, she'd dart back in in a panic.

She was fascinated by running water, though she never figured out how to turn faucets off and on. She loved stairs; when we came back to NY and she had stairs inside the house, for weeks she'd spend time just running up and down them for the experience.

She hunted mice; my husband found her with a mouse tail (just the tail) while we were in California, so he knows she did, and she survived a week without problem living between ceiling and floor of this house, and we're pretty sure that's what she ate then.

She loved linen closets -- which just means she was a cat. She was fascinated by string, but never tried to eat it, and never tried to eat cords. She played fetch. She chased her tail, which was as long as we'd known her only half a tail, and was eternally startled and offended when she caught it.

Last night she went primly down the stairs to sleep in my old bedroom, where we spent most of last summer's evenings, me spinning and watching Netflix, her seated among the pillows looking on. She's been sleeping there for the warmth, lately. This morning I found her still there, and petted her, and she purred, but it had the high-frequencies in it ... and I knew she was hurting. My husband was home all day, and he discovered that she was no longer using her back legs properly, and not one of her front ones, either. He held her for hours, cuddling her and petting her, offering her food, comforting her when the smell threw her into seizures and vomiting. (He's allergic to cats; but he was never allergic to her. Not till today, when suddenly the rash broke out on his arms.)

He left her alone for a little bit, snug in her favorite spot on the heating grate up on our floor, and when he came back, she was gone and the door at the bottom of the stairs was wide open. With one and a half functioning legs, she'd dragged herself down the stairs, down the hall, into the farthest room from my old one, and tucked her head under the blankets where they draped off the bed and onto the floor.

We put her in the carrier and took her in, and she didn't protest the carrier at all, and purred when we came into the vet's. (She hates the vet's. But we're convinced -- last time we took her in, she was calm then too; and we're convinced she remembered being a kitten, and how after she was at the vet's she felt *better*.) And she lay with her head on my husband's hand, and he told me quietly that she'd been doing that all afternoon. And he's convinced she understood that it was time. We stayed with her, and held her, and petted her, and wept over her. She was never alone when she didn't want to be. Not for a minute. And she was still trying valiantly to be a purrbox up until ten minutes from the end, when the pain and obstructed breathing were finally too much for her and she settled for nuzzling our hands.

St Gertrude of Nivelles, if there's anything to this saint business, and if you loved cats as you're reputed to ... if cats have an afterlife, I hope you'll say hello to her. (I'd ask you to put in a good word for her; but if you say hello, and she grasps that you're a Good Person, she'll do the rest of the convincing herself.)

Dad ... if she gets up there, please don't let John chew on her too much. She thinks she's tough, but if they got in a spat, John would win in a heartbeat. (I'd give her good odds holding her own against Monty, though.)

And the purest testimony for what she was like that I could ever have:

"Do you want to get anything to bring home?" I asked my husband as we were driving back from the vet's, and the inveterate, allergic dog-person-from-birth answered, quietly, "A cat."

G'night, sweetheart. We'll miss you terribly. But you were happy, and you didn't suffer too much, and that's what matters.

Everybody else... know you're loved. And as always when these things happen ... make sure the people and pets you care about know they are, too.

Oneword

infinitepryde — Wed, 25 Jun 2014 06:58:53 GMT

So I got through! Malwarebytes let me in!

... it gave me the same word again, whoops. XD

I may have to code a prompt tool. Shouldn't be too hard, right?

Oneword

infinitepryde — Tue, 24 Jun 2014 03:47:27 GMT

Hm. Went to go to oneword.com, and Malwarebytes suddenly blocked it as a potentially malicious website.

Am now slightly nervous.

infinitepryde — Thu, 19 Jun 2014 05:09:48 GMT

(Duct:)

Something slithered.

He paused, listening, but it didn't seem to come again; so he bent his head back to his work, examining the calligraphy through the magnifying glass, studying the shapes of the serifs.

There it was again, dry and dusty, suggestive of scales.

And it was coming from the vent.

For the first time, he wondered what was on the other side.

infinitepryde — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 08:01:14 GMT

Merry Christmas, to all whom that applies. (And wishes for a good day to everyone else reading, too.)

Today

infinitepryde — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 03:48:28 GMT

Had to update for obvious reasons.

I have a letter that my mother wrote me at summer camp one year, just because she had to write someone something on 8/8/88.

Looking forward to 11/12/13.

The Inevitable Bond Rant

infinitepryde — Mon, 26 Nov 2012 17:55:07 GMT

So, Skyfall.

Again, I have been seeing a lot of people bitch about Skyfall and misogyny. And yes, it is a Bond movie, so to a large extent women are Going To Be There and Going To Be Disposable, and they will stand out because we will pay attention to them and their names and their story and not to the Also Disposable men; so while there is always going to be misogyny there, it's largely a part of the Bond universe pretty much slaughtering everybody in the area.

But there are places where I'm not sure I actually saw the same movie as other people, because there's a lot of the bitching I kinda disagree with.

There is a lot of griping about Eve Moneypenny not staying in field work. There is a lot of griping about Eve Moneypenny being singled out to not stay in field work.

This is missing that in the ENTIRE MOVIE there are only two people actually presently temperamentally suited for field work. Out of everyone we see? Two.

("She never lied to me." No, Bond didn't pass the medicals. But he passed M's test, and they both knew it -- because he wasn't in shape at that second, but digging the damn shrapnel out of himself with a knife was his way of reminding her that that second didn't matter.)

Eve Moneypenny was competent for field work, but not suited to it. It's something she could do, and do reasonably well -- unlike most of the men in the movie. It's not something she'd be stellar at. And they need someone with that skillset right where she wound up. And she is doing something far more important right where she chose to be; watching Mallory, and helping M's former assistant provide continuity -- Mallory is not familiar with M's people or her style, just with her results, and Eve Moneypenny helps fill that gap with a dose of a certain sort of practicality. And Mallory isn't such a young man himself; eventually someone else will be needed to fill that initial.

M was temperamentally suited for field work, and I think it's implied fairly strongly that she's been there -- on tasks that didn't demand marksmanship. She has other skills that were far, far more important. I've seen people argue that M was reduced in this movie to the sum of her failures --

The problem with that argument being that M didn't fail.

She did her job. She took situations that had no acceptable paths out and forced them into paths that did the least damage. Her job involves creating horrors, and some of them work for her, and some of them will come back. Her skillset involves shaping situations and shaping people, and she did that.

She said something like: "damned if I will leave this place worse off than when I came in." And she spent the rest of the sequence of events already having written herself off. What would she do retired, after all? And her death --

Survival would have been an inconvenience, really, which may explain why she wasn't better protected.

Her death, and the sequence of her actions and her choices that led to it --

When that sequence started, she had one and a half of the five people she needed in place. Her nameless assistant, in the correct place, with the correct mindset and information. Q, in the correct place, but untested and untried.

Skyfall is not the story of Judi Dench's M's failures coming back to haunt her, destroying her as she makes the wrong decisions.

Skyfall is the story of consequences that have been long since accepted; and Judi Dench's M maneuvering Q and Mallory and Moneypenny and Bond into position, and tempering three of them, and finishing her work on the fourth, at high speed. Using her own life and death with the same offhand ruthlessness that she used her agents'.

Look at her when she's talking to Silva: she knows exactly what's going on there; she's playing to the audience. (I can't help but think of her as thinking "what, did you think I didn't have to be aware of this film? And you're far less attractive even with your prosthetic than Tom Hiddleston, little boy.") Look at her when Bond sweeps her away: she's perfectly all right with that, because she's done everything else she's needed to. Q has made his ghastly mistake, and will spend the rest of his life aware of the lives lost. Mallory has been woken up, and Bond's been forced to confront his competence. Moneypenny was already in place, but now she's been through the firefight at home, too. Everything else is in place for her successor; all she has to do now is deal with Silva and wrap up her work with Bond, delivering him to Mallory and company (because Mallory will not be able to be M by himself, it will take rather more than just him to do M's job for a bit yet), and Bond is conveniently giving her a route to do these things personally.

I'll miss her; I'll miss the irritable pale shadow she cast across the last seven films. (Seven!) But do not for one second think that her hands were not on the controls to her last breath. She ran that film.

infinitepryde — Wed, 31 Oct 2012 22:32:29 GMT

Happy Halloween!

And If It's Not, Hey, It's Still An Excuse

infinitepryde — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 03:54:10 GMT

Memeage:

"It's international book week. Grab the closest book to you, turn to page 52, post the 5th sentence as your status. Don't mention the title. [well, I broke that "rule" already]. Copy the rules as part of your status."

Several books equally distant, so have five from the stack:

"They even went on to banish the professors of philosophy and exile all honourable accomplishments, so that nothing decent might anywhere confront them."

"'Per degree of planetary warming, it's even more costly than repairing -- or enlarging -- the soletta array, something for which we've been petitioning the Imperium for years.'"

"That is possibly why Verity Lambert intuitively was uneasy with the third Doctor who lost his 'anti-establishment' character and was at risk of becoming identified with the needs of the military and government."

"I dragged my right foot forward, knowing how Benedict must have felt, his legs snared by the black grass."

"The burgeoning number of obscene valentines caused several countries to ban the practice of exchanging cards."

infinitepryde — Sat, 28 Jul 2012 04:28:47 GMT

Why is the entire Internet apparently convinced that DKR Bruce Wayne rendered Selina Kyle into a declawed housewife, when she's the one who convinced Bruce freaking Wayne to run off with her, ditch all of his responsibilities, and do whatever the hell they wanted?

Are we so unused to seeing the woman win that people have actually lost the ability to read it that way?

Commentary on Brave

infinitepryde — Mon, 16 Jul 2012 07:45:51 GMT

Now that the comments about more than the most superficial reading of Brave have made it out into actual news articles, I'd like to point out one more thing that the writers were really good about. Almost certainly there's been dissection of it elsewhere, but I haven't seen it yet, so I'm going to talk about it some.

When you poke at most successful reigns, you find several things someplace in the monarchy and its immediate support and advice network:

There is someone who is concerned about making certain that all the major factions are balanced against each other and not trying to kill each other. (Internal and external.)

There is someone who is concerned about making sure that everything that needs to be done gets done properly and on time.

There is someone who is concerned about making sure that the kingdom does not go bankrupt.

There is someone who is concerned about making sure that the people (and the army) do not starve.

There is someone who is amazingly charismatic and good at getting and keeping people's attention and loyalty.

There is someone who is good at settling disputes. No. Settling them. RIGHT THEN.

And there is someone who is good at getting armies together and hauling them off to kick all kinds of ass.

Usually, there are a sizable number of all of these people; however, in an animated movie, they will be reduced for obvious reasons -- usually reduced out of sight except for a couple of the roles.

In Brave, King Fergus holds two of these roles: charismatic and asskicking. Everything else, Queen Elinor handles. That kingdom effectively runs on Elinor's brain and willpower. And King Fergus knows it. (People have referred to him as "henpecked," but the guy is pretty plainly just aware of the fact that his job is to keep the kingdom safe and whole, but his wife's job and obsession is to keep the kingdom in existence in the first place -- if he bucks her on something that affects the kingdom, he's putting the entire kingdom at risk.)

Take a look at the young men Elinor thinks of as the three prospective next kings. One's wrapped up inside his head and not particularly concerned with immediate practicalities (that said, he's a lot sharper than he looks -- observe that he very quickly agrees with a method that will give him an advantage over his potential rivals without also giving Merida a reason to resent him). One's too obsessed with his own ego to be effectively practical. And one is basically Gerard of Amber ... effective, yes, a really good guy, definitely, not stupid, no, but not exactly fast in the thinking department either.

Take a look at the triplet princes. Not only is that one hell of a succession question to work out, but while they inherited Elinor's smarts, they didn't exactly get her sense of responsibility, and quite frankly given the stunts they're pulling now it's not that good a bet that any given one of them is going to live to see twenty. And besides, they're tiny. How many years passed between Merida and the boys? Good bet that Elinor gave up on expecting more kids.

So Brave sets Elinor up right: she is not picking on Merida all the time because she wants Merida to be the Picture Of Femininity.

Instead, she is trying to arm Merida with weapons that, unlike her bow, cannot be taken away from her. Because she is all too aware that she and Fergus took control of the kingdom because of Fergus' performance in a war. Merida is, so far as Elinor can predict at the beginning of Brave, going to have to install a husband as King who is going to have half the kingdom hating him for having beaten their candidate. And then she's going to have to keep him on the throne and run the kingdom around him the way Elinor does... without his having the deep respect that the other three clan heads have for Fergus.

Merida is going to have to pull it all off herself. She is going to have to juggle factions, get everything done properly and on time, keep the kingdom solvent and not starving, be the unquestioned settler of disputes, AND be the charismatic center of the kingdom -- the best she can hope for is a husband who can either make war effectively or listen to advisors who do. (Two out of three of the eldest sons count there! One might if he can get over himself.)

And Elinor has an unknown but very, very limited amount of time to get Merida ready in.

And Elinor has the problem that so many people who are teaching the jobs they're also doing have: she can see the situation so very clearly that it doesn't occur to her the person she's teaching can't see it.

I kind of want to watch the movie again just to poke at this idea a little more; certainly this was the chatter on the car ride home for a good hour, and actually dissecting the functioning of the kingdom even a little tiny bit is something that I really, really rarely get to do after watching an animated film.

infinitepryde — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 19:42:42 GMT

As a child, I watched the first Columbia launch with my family -- sitting in a room with a battered green carpet, watching a television that was Amazing because it had a remote control with three whole buttons. (I could barely press the buttons down for years; they took a fair amount of finger strength.) My brother adjusted the antenna by hand.

As an adult, I watched the last Atlantis launch with my brother -- sitting in the same room with the same battered green carpet, watching CNN over a fiberoptic connection and using a laptop via wifi and the Internet to get other camera views.

Sometimes we forget that we're living in the future.

Fair Warning

infinitepryde — Fri, 04 Feb 2011 02:21:24 GMT

I am experimenting with the Sim Hospital LJ game. If it throws you anything annoying, please accept my apologies in advance, and let me know so I can kick it to the curb. XD

Okay, It's Been A While

infinitepryde — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 01:56:48 GMT

(Seen in passing on incandescens' journal.)

Give me an AU and I'll write you a short scene from it.

It can be an AU with a change of events ("What if X had followed Y's order to stay in position?"), or an AU with a different setting ("What if Sakura was looking for feathers in the Doctor Who universe?"), or a direct crossover if you want.

Fandoms, within limitations of Those Bits I Happen To Remember, include but are not necessarily limited to: Amber, Babylon 5, Doctor Who, DCU, Marvel UK, X-Men, various RP, 'fic, and stuff I've geeked at you about. (There are rather more fandoms I know bits and pieces about...)

One Week After

infinitepryde — Mon, 22 Mar 2010 17:01:14 GMT

I feel like I should be recording the entire ordeal here for my own future reference.

But for now I will only say:

Kidney stones SUCK.

infinitepryde — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 17:13:40 GMT

Hey, deireanach, another followup to a conversation some time back: apparently a study in Samoa has provided evidence for the kin-selection hypothesis as a method of conserving hereditary male homosexuality in a population.

(Which is totally polysyllabic code for "apparently gay men really do make the BEST uncles.")

infinitepryde — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 22:14:36 GMT

I really hate H1N1.

Even if it's only probable H1N1.

infinitepryde — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 21:43:25 GMT

WASHINGTON – Trumpeting a victory against careless spending, President Barack Obama on Wednesday signed a defense bill that kills some costly weapons projects and expands war efforts. In a major civil rights change, the law also makes it a federal hate crime to assault people based on sexual orientation.... The measure expands current hate crimes law to include violence based on gender, sexual orientation, gender identity or disability.... A priority of the late Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, D-Mass., that had been on the congressional agenda for a decade, the measure is named for Matthew Shepard, the gay Wyoming college student murdered 11 years ago.

I'd talk, but I'm crying.

Today In The Life, &C.

infinitepryde — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 03:58:31 GMT

6 AM: Crawl out of bed after sleep in two bouts, one consisting of 2 1/2 hours and one consisting of just under half an hour.

7:32 AM: Pick up person I'm giving a ride -- only 12 minutes late despite zombiegirlness.

8:45 AM: Arrive on site 15 minutes before target time before being 12 minutes late. AWESOME.

10 AM: Take class on the construction of what amounts to 13th-century socks, the difference between the usual ways men and women wore them, and the difference in styles between 13th and 14th century versions. Class detours kind of awesomely into 13th-century undergarments in general and bogs down for several minutes in indignant jealousy over the convenience factor of external genitalia. :D 4 pages of notes.

11 AM: Take class that amounts to "here, have a massive list of cool manuscripts to look at." No pages of notes, but really big handouts.

12 noon: Realize that both of the people with the condition that requires us to avoid a common food ingredient forgot to tell the cook. Admire the REALLY AWESOME FOOD, run out to get lunch that will not cripple us.

1 PM: Sort out all the money issues. Get squeed at by the cook for us all being organized enough to get her a check on the same day. Squee back at the cook over the REALLY AWESOME FOOD. Twice over when I realize said REALLY AWESOME FOOD was done on a budget of A DOLLAR AND FORTY-FIVE CENTS PER PERSON. Get totally distracted by foodgeeking, then totally distracted by a random woman with a top-whorl spindle, which is a type I haven't learned to use yet.

2 PM: Take class on Or Nue shaded-goldwork embroidery. ... a hands-on class. It is technically an hour long. I wind up sitting there for twice that time because it is so pretty and appeals so strongly to my 'put tiny things meticulously in order' instincts that I finally have to put the embroidery down because you cannot organize tiny little stitches to tug carefully at gold threads without ever crossing the threads or letting any of the ground fabric be seen if you are tearing up from happy while squinting at it.

4 PM: Finish up planning how to deal with checks and reports, some of which have a Looming Due Date. Drive home.

5:15 PM: Arrive home 2 1/2 hours earlier than expected.

7 PM ?: Keel over completely unconscious for a couple hours.

So pleased. So very very very pleased. I wish Or Nue photographed/scanned well -- it doesn't, and it's only by comparing a half-dozen photos of the same piece that you start to get the idea of exactly how beautiful it is; it sparkles and steals your breath and has this incredible illusion of texture and depth, and complicated versions have almost more to do with painting than with embroidery -- on the practice piece that I was given I am about to hit the place where the advantages of Or Nue really start to show, bringing in a second color, and I am really tempted to experiment with the shading potentials of it on the fly.

And this from something that I wanted to take only because of its relationship to Opus Anglicanum, which is also incredibly gorgeous but in a different way despite both of them being just goldwork couching techniques. ("Just.")

Want to go back and work on it more right now, but it's dark out and I don't have good light. Want to work on it anyway. It's the time of year where I start not feeling right without something in my hands.

Attn: Universe

infinitepryde — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 17:41:00 GMT

Please do not prompt my system to go into Twitchy Stressbunny mode without an actual reason. Presently, I have no such reason: all the stuff on my side for the event Saturday is in progress, I have transportation sorted, seed cash for the gate is sorted, handwashing clothes is sorted, I don't actually have to do anything there except count money and handle receipts at the end, I will probably be able to pick up stuff for the quarterly report there and if not there is still a week to sort it which is more time than I usually have, my in-person class requirements are all taken care of, and we actually figured out how to get through October without spending more money than we have left, which means that even if we wind up with a layoff week in November and two in December we should be able to just barely scrape through the year, which is better than we'd expected.

And yet my gut is knotted up and there are still cold streaks going down my spine and I can't stop looking over my shoulder despite there being nobody else on this floor of the building.

Kindly turn down my overreaction, please.

Thank you, ip

Love (the John Lennon variety)

infinitepryde — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 19:06:05 GMT

(Stolen from ladielazarus. Artist names left out to conceal exactly how much of my sorry music library on this computer is Leonard Cohen or Deathboy. Okay, only a third of it. Also, as usual not tagging anyone in specific.)

1. Put Your iTunes on Shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write down the name of the song no matter how silly it sounds!
4. Put any comments in brackets after the song name.
5. Tag at least 10 friends
--------------------------

What do your friends think of you?
"Bird on a Wire"

If someone says, “Is this okay?” You say
"Money and Confidence"

How would you describe yourself?
"The Blue"
(... well, that's encouraging.)

What do you like in a guy/girl?
"RTTDF"

How do you feel today?
"Mad World"

What is your life’s purpose?
"Red Sky at Night"
(... OKAY OKAY I WILL FINISH MAKING UP MY MIND AND FINALLY POST THE SECOND CHAPTER I PROMISE)

What is your motto?
"Cheap Shot"
(Oh, I wish. "Just look at me, all wrapped up in could-you-be -- just look at me, I'm fixing myself. I had a bad time, but now I'm back online: you can keep your digital hell...")

What do you think about very often?
"Beautiful"
(oddly, accurate!)

What is 2 + 2?
"If God Will Send His Angels"
(... to dance on the end of a pin?)

What do you think of your best friend?
"Today We Fight for the Midrealm"
(it cracks me up that she is currently driving to an SCA event)

What do you think of the person you like?
"Bring Me To Life"
(oh GOD I had to confess this is still actually on the new machine I haven't transferred most of my music to XD )

What is your life story?
"Watching the Detectives"
(okay, THAT'S not unnerving or anything)

What do you want to be when you grow up?
"At the Border, Guy"
("and we built the new language/out of courtesy and velocity... Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Common sense makes a comeback!")

What do you think of when you see the person you like?
"Holding On"

What will you dance to at your wedding?
"Then I Close My Eyes"
(Actually, it was Enya's "Bard Dance." Shut up.)

What will they play at your funeral?
"Accidents Will Happen"

What is your hobby/interest?
"Take This Waltz"
(Foul! I'm a terrible dancer and don't do it much.)

What is your biggest fear?
"DeadLife"
(... zombie uprising?)

What is your biggest secret?
"Grandma Went Out With A Bang"

What do you think of your friends?
"Last Year's Man"
(Oh, that's AWFUL.)

What will you post this as?
"Love"

My Day So Far

infinitepryde — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 18:24:28 GMT

Me, to my husband: "Darling, thank you for writing 'antihistamines' on the shopping list, but you should know it's not spelled 'antihusbands.'"

My husband, to me, in the store: "They said 'there's a lot in the aisle,' but apparently what they meant is 'go back to the aisle and we will find someone who will dig the last dusty cobwebbed box out of the back storeroom and haul it out to you on a rickety wheeled plank.'"

Us, to a friend we haven't seen in months: "HI! How're you doing!"
Friend: "I'm getting divorced. I'm losing the house." *pause* *gleeful:* "It's GREAT!"

Fic: Salvage

infinitepryde — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 21:00:20 GMT

Fictime again :D For ladielazarus's birthday, I pulled ten sets of three random selections from her prompt list, and wrote nine linked Pryde & Wisdom ficlets out of them. (The tenth set did not get written, since I couldn't make the moods mesh, but most of it wound up in the fic at one point or another anyhow.) Quick thanks to evilbeej for doing a speed-beta, and to kelen for playing reference when I couldn't find my copies of CB&MI13 #12.

Title: Salvage
Rating: PG, plus a little swearing and nonexplicit stuff

1: Homecoming
2: Flight Delay
3: Mistakes
4: Circle
5: Threats
6: Hearts
7: Love Letters
8: Hospitality
9: Epilogue

My Day So Far

infinitepryde — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 20:01:44 GMT

I can now honestly say that I have broken into a car armed only with a lucet fork.

This is a side benefit of string addiction I had not previously considered.

(... yes, the car was mine, I'd locked my keys in it.)