sonnet on the ribs of laughter

inkpool — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 19:50:15 GMT

There is really no reason not to do it at this point: this journal is moving to influx on DW. Future posts (sparse as they may be) will be made there! And probably linked off Tumblr, welp.

DW is open account creation for the moment, no invite codes necessary, in case anyone was thinking about signing up. Let me know who you are there!

Glancing Blows (original)

inkpool — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 20:53:30 GMT

Those of you who have had me friended a long time will probably recognize this, but I am touching this up for school lit mags and things, and I thought I'd put it out there for anyone who wants to give crit. Any feedback is appreciated!

One day, he goes missing.

Most people wouldn't call that the beginning of a story, but you're not most people, and anyway, there's no history to recount, not between you and him. You aren't friends, not even superficially; there is no sordid teenage drama, no longstanding grudge that might spark a continued interest in his existence. You are not among his worshipers, nor do you feel resentment at his three-year-long ownership of the front page of the school paper and the crackled garble that is the morning announcements. He was just a presence; more noticeable than most, to be sure, but not enough to explain the effect his absence has had on you..

He doesn't really go missing, of course--that would be rather too interesting. No, his parents have quietly arranged for him to be transferred, mid-semester, into an international school in Munich. No word on when--or whether--he'll return. He sends regular postcards to friends, superficial and not; the recipients display theirs on the front of their binders, like badges of honor, or show them off in the mornings before class starts.

Rumors about him stalk the halls along with the students, but that's the same as always; only their clothes have changed. Some among you gleefully speculate about mental breakdowns and instability; others whisper about exclusive academies, study abroad programs, and awards. But it's all just idle speculation in the end. No one makes more than a cursory attempt to find out what happened to him--their curiosity, too, is superficial.

Not yours. When you want something--you don't just want something. You obsess.

This is what you do: nothing, really.

After all, you are busy. You spend your afternoons studying and reading Plath and writing articles about Knitting Club because, according to your parents and your Journalism teacher with the fake fingernails, you are going places. You repeat this line to your friends with appropriately flat affect, and it is understood that you are playing a joke on the world. You have not written an essay since elementary school without smirking all the way through, a fact that does not escape the view of Mrs. Winthrop, your sophomore English teacher, even if your face is semi-permanently hidden by your bangs. One Wednesday five weeks into term, she holds you after class and slams your summer reading paper onto the desk roughly, not caring that the clip comes undone and the pages scatter everywhere.

"This," she says, punctuating every word with a stab of her red pen, "is an unmitigated, flowery, over-processed piece of crap which communicates nothing to the reader except your pure condescension--which, while fascinating, was not nearly the object of this exercise. And I am sure that if you told me a quarter of the things you were thinking when you wrote it, I could have you suspended for insubordination."

"Yes, ma'am," you say with a straight face.

She just sighs, like she already knows you are a lost cause. "Cut out the verbiage, and I think you have the beginnings of a decent paper. Dismissed."

She believes in you, or the potential of you--elaborate epithets, pseudo-philosophical ramblings, and all--which is why you leave that class with piles of essays covered in red-pen invective and one B minus, the sole blemish on an otherwise spotless transcript. It was the best she could do. State mandates dictate that grades of C and below are reserved for students who have not mastered the comma or compound sentences, however worthless the work of the grammatically proficient, however much they know it, however much they don't try anyway.

On the other hand:

You spend your afternoons leafing through back issues of the Voice. You read every word to provide yourself cover, but especially linger over his stories--there are many. You study the blurry, grainy photographs of him, his golden-boy smile, trying to read something in it. You keep your ears pricked to the conversations of the superficial friends. No one notices that you are eavesdropping on them; you have always been good at appearing invisible.

In your head, you formulate a series of possible scenarios, A through J, ranging from neutral to moderately depressing in tone.

When you take breaks from your reading, to eat or to work on your next story, you make sure to leave the newspaper face-up on the table, so that his image is visible. It's a good conversation starter. For example:

"Oh, gosh, can you believe it's already been three months since he left?" Blonde Girl One (you don't believe in differentiating between them, that would be undemocratic and a waste of your time) bites into her vegan, low-carb, condimentless mockery of what it means to be a sandwich. "I miss him so much--I mean, we still talk all the time on the phone and email and stuff, but it's not the same, you know?"

That's interesting--it's the first you've heard of actual contact between him and the rest of the world. Thankfully you are saved the necessity of having to inquire further by Blandly Charming Guy Number Three, who swallows his inauthentic microwaved rice and beans to say, "Yeah? What's he been saying?"

"Oh, all kinds of things!" Blonde Girl One brightens abruptly; it's clear that this is her very favorite topic. "His new school is so cool--they have all this stuff we could never afford here--but Germany is like, totally weird. Did you know that they eat sheep stomachs over there? I was like, ew, but he just laughed and told me that was pretty normal."

Only trivialities, then. Nothing important--not that Blonde Girl One would be able to process anything that was. Blandly Charming Three nods; you can't tell whether he's taking her seriously or not, and that's scary. "I was wondering how he was doing." A shadow crosses his face. "He left us all behind, you know? I don't know if he thought he was too good for us or he just burned out or whatever--"

There's a snap as Blonde Girl Two sets down her Tupperware. "Entitled, much? Since when is it any of your business what he does or doesn't do? You don't know shit about him, so don't talk shit about him."

Silence for seven and a half seconds (you count), the duration of which you spend staring at her bad highlights in abject surprise. It's not often that something manages to render you speechless. "Hey, Anise," you say finally, "so how's that Environmental Club story been going?"

She sighs, not ungratefully, and as she launches into a story you can feel the tension dissipate from the room. But in your head you're still memorizing the set of her mouth; tweaks to scenarios G and I are in order, you think. Divisions into subscenarios? Maybe.

That spring you're asked to the prom by a friend of a friend. "It's all bullshit," he says, rolling his eyes. "It's not about who you're attracted to or whose company you actually enjoy, it's about the dynasty of the popular judging how much you're worth by the most socially acceptable person you can manage to con into being seen on your arm for a night."

"Total BS," you agree, your arm stretched over the side of the bench disaffectedly.

He smirks. "So I have two tickets. Wanna go?"

You reason that it's not playing their game if you're making it a giant cosmic joke--the two of you go, and complain about the punch and the DJ's taste in music, and it's not such a bad time, you guess.

That's the spring you have to present your science fair project to God's parody of a judging panel (because oh, you are going places) and you shake and your hands sweat the whole time, even though your data is all made up and no one will notice or care if they do, that's the nature of this place. It's the spring you turn sixteen, and your dad teaches you to drive in his old stick--it builds character, he says. You resolve never to live anywhere without a public transportation system; your hands have begun to ache, you clench the steering wheel so hard. Turning is the worst: four lanes of cars all around, you hanging on for dear life, sure that this time--this will be the time that you crash.

As it turns out, you are the one to find him--after a fashion, at least.

It's the middle of July, suffocatingly hot, and your baby brother, against all odds, has gotten pneumonia. From where, you don't know, but you're the one tasked with getting his medicine from the nearest pharmacy. You walk the two blocks there even though you're sweating enough to fill a small bathtub, because you really do hate driving.

You go to the counter to pay, and that's when you see him. He looks out of place in his own clothes--a rumpled t-shirt, athletic shorts, and a baseball cap, not even close to the amount of polish you're used to seeing on him--but that same golden-boy smile lights up his face when he sees you. He raises one hand in a wave. "Hey!"

"Hey." You look him up and down--you're surprised he even recognizes you--and you can't think of anything better to say than, "So how was Germany?"

More smiling. "Oh, it was great. It was nice to have a change of pace for a while, you know? I think I kind of needed it. But I'm ready to come back now, so." He shrugs. "I missed this place so much, you have no idea."

Spoken like a true golden boy. "Cool." You shift from one leg to the other. In the next aisle, a baby wails and a woman sighs; you think you even hear the ticking of someone's wristwatch. "So, uh, I'll see you around, I guess?"

"Yeah, definitely. See you!"

It's probably the longest conversation you've had with him.

After school starts up, you'll see him in the hallways often, and he'll wave and you'll wave back, but nothing more than that. You aren't about to start talking to him. You were never good with intersections, after all: even the near misses, the glancing blows, leave you anxious and unsettled.

(You see the glare of the headlights in your mind's eye, tragedies of glass and blood and steel--)

When you get home that afternoon, the first thing you do is sit down and write. Fifteen lines of poetry, free verse, no trace of irony in any of them.

END OF ACT 5 BETTING POOL

inkpool — Thu, 06 Oct 2011 00:44:14 GMT

When is the flash coming out??? Place your bets here!

Please give me the date you are betting on--specify morning (12 AM EST to 11:59 AM) or evening (12 PM to 11:59 PM)--and tell me what you are betting! You are required to bet a drabble (100 words or more) or the equivalent in your medium: sketches, icon sets, voice acting clips, any original content you can think of! I will leave it to you to determine how much an equivalent offer is.

Winner takes home everything.

The pool is tentatively capped at 20 people, although I don't think we'll get that many. Have at!

Bets:
10/19, morning: WilySubversionist [drabble]
10/20, morning: fenrirsulfr [sketch]
10/20, evening: feral_phoenix [drabble]
10/21, morning: tanjetea [sketch]
10/22, evening: ember_reignited [drabble]
10/23, morning: lloydffafnir [short song]
10/23, evening: inkpool [drabble]
10/24, evening: skelody [drabble]
10/25, morning: miss_prince [short song]
10/25, evening: kaiousei [drabble/sketch]

STREAMING CHILDREN'S COMPUTER GAMES (again)

inkpool — Sat, 17 Sep 2011 03:06:42 GMT

http://www.livestream.com/inkpoodle

STREAMING CHILDREN'S COMPUTER GAMES

inkpool — Sun, 11 Sep 2011 02:55:15 GMT

http://www.livestream.com/inkpoodle

Come play with Fer and me!

spammin' this journal like it's 2007

inkpool — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 08:23:09 GMT

So I wrote something incredibly maudlin for the HSO. It involves Scratches and (nearly) impossible promises.

No Need to Say Goodbye [John/Karkat, with bonus Jade cameo]

There are so many mistakes but I am not going to think about that or the fact that I just wrote 1600 words for a fucking bonus round entry. Instead I will sleep. I think I deserve that.

TUMBLR BLACKOUT POST

inkpool — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 04:05:00 GMT

So I am going to be so stir-crazy tomorrow. (Today?) Who's up? Who's around? Tell me about your day, your summer, your life, the fic you're writing, the fic you're not writing. Let us chat.

Or you can show me cat macros. That works too.

she said, "you're a masochist for falling for me."

inkpool — Sat, 27 Aug 2011 21:44:24 GMT

LISTEN @ 8tracks
LINER NOTES/download

I don't normally do this but I'm really proud of this FST, so putting it here as well.

PAJAMA SAM LIVESTREAM

inkpool — Sat, 27 Aug 2011 02:53:16 GMT

Streaming in ten!

http://www.livestream.com/inkpoodle

PAJAMA SAM LIVESTREAM SURVEY????

inkpool — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 09:10:01 GMT

Humongous, Inc. is a children's game company notable for its ridiculous and amazing point-and-click adventures. We're talking customs trees, boats you have to coax into the water, dancing and singing furniture, EVERYTHING IS CLICKABLE ludicrousness. Humongous' heyday was in the 90s, which means that for lots of us, it was basically our childhood. SO. We are having a nostalgiathon!

I will be livestreaming Pajama Sam: No Need to Hide When It's Dark Outside, about a boy who journeys into his closet to trap Darkness, probably either Friday or Sunday evening. The game will probably take between an hour and two hours, depending on how much time we spend dawdling.

If you are interested, let me know in the comments! Please also tell me when you are available to stream (dates and times--I can push the stream back if you aren't available!)

if this goes well I will probably also be livestreaming a few other Humongous games--I have several games in the Putt-Putt and Freddie Fish series, as well as the little known adventure Fatty Bear's Birthday Surprise.

ETA: Tentatively scheduling for Friday the 26th beginning at 11PM EST! Please let me know if you won't be able to make it ASAP so we can shuffle.

oh, yes, I do have a livejournal.

inkpool — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 03:24:21 GMT

So HSO continues to consume my life--do you know how weird it is to be browsing random Tumblrs and come across people talking about it? So weird. I don't know what I would do if I were actually Fandom Famous. Probably die.

But I love HSO; I have been continually surprised by the sheer enthusiasm and creativity of some of the participants. Almost everything we got in for round 1 has been of mindboggling quality. I am eagerly looking forward to future rounds!

Here are some non-HSO things I have been doing over the past few weeks or so:
- UTENA omg. I have been meaning to watch for fucking ever, and I had a blast doing it with relares and crew. IT WAS SO GOOD. Trippy! But look, I ate up Princess Tutu with a spoon, I was never not going to love Utena. Even if I probably need another six viewings to understand what the fuck was going on there. (Also: lesbians.)
- Writing my god_tier fic! I, um, didn't touch it for months and then suddenly pounded out 4k in two days--still don't know how that happened, I am pretty slow with the words in general. But I like this fic! It is my baby, and I just want to cuddle and love it until it becomes as awesome as it can be.
- Speaking of, media creation claims are open for god_tier! If you're an artist/mixer/what have you, give it a whirl.
- A little over a month until I have to go back to school! I am so excited aaaaa this year I am going to meet people and see the city and do all the things I was too antisocial and miserable to do last year! (SPEAKING OF: if you live near Chicago tell me! I want to meet people.) I am taking organic chemistry and DIGITAL STORYTELLING and an excessively pretentious course involving Adam Smith and Marx that I am looking forward to a lot. ahh, I miss Chicago already ;_;
- I think that's it???? I have been sort of consumed by fannish nonsense lately. There is a whole stack of Respectable and Literary Books by my bedside that I have not touched. I would rather reread Strider's Edge for the eighth time, I guess?

I also bought a paid account in what was one of the stupider decisions I have ever made. You will notice that I keyworded every icon with Rose in it to the same Rentals song, but, uh:

Please let that be you
Knocking on my door so loud just like you do
Bringing a message or two
You know you are my faith, and I love you

I rest my case.

I HAVE NOT BEEN HERE.

inkpool — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 03:31:23 GMT

You may have noticed this! I had this thing known as hs_olympics (YOU MAY HAVE HEARD OF IT) to run, and then I went to New Orleans for a few days and wandered around the French Quarter like a shitty tourist, and then there was more HSO stuff and also me kind of forgetting to take my meds for a few days, whoops. (KIND OF BAD FOR YOUR ENERGY LEVELS, THAT.) Also: tumblr! (I am dogfishing over thar, you can add me if you like!)

Which is to say, I have not been responding to comments and stuff. I am sorry for that! I will...do that...soon. Hopefully. Sob.

inkpool — Mon, 25 Jul 2011 15:44:40 GMT

This is a test post!

ETA: EXCELLENT

Have a meme?

Name two (or more) characters that I have shown evidence of including as a pairing (or non-romantic exclusivity, or pale romance, or really any quadrant will do) in fanfic or original fic or Random Shit I Talk About On The Internets. I will answer with:

1. What they most commonly do during sex (if they are the sexing type)
2. Who has prettier (or just more attractive) hair
3. What they argue about most often
4. Who'd cope best if the other one died
5. The happiest plausible happily-ever-after I can think of for them
6. The most tragic possible ending for them
7. What I enjoy most about their dynamic
8. What I find difficult to write about them

tumblr is being a butt so i am posting this here instead

inkpool — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 03:27:08 GMT

and cut the world in two: also i had a completelly
and cut the world in two: damnit trillian
and cut the world in two: a completely awful double irony track
and cut the world in two: what was it?
and cut the world in two: i think it was something by adam lambert
and cut the world in two: JUST DON'T GIVE UP
and cut the world in two: I'M WORKING IT OUT
and cut the world in two: JUST DON'T GIVE IN
and cut the world in two: I WON'T LET YOU DOWN
dryderin: fdghjk
and cut the world in two: IT MESSED ME UP, NEED A SECOND TO BREATHE
and cut the world in two: JUST KEEP COMING AROUND TEREZI
and cut the world in two: (i am so sorry)
dryderin: fghjkl
dryderin: I never believe you when you say that
and cut the world in two: YEAH, IT'S PLAIN TO SEEEEEEEEEEEEE
and cut the world in two: THAT BABY, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL
and cut the world in two: AND THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU.
and cut the world in two: IT'S ME. I'M THE FREAK.
and cut the world in two: BUT THANKS FOR LOVING ME, BECAUSE YOU'RE DOING IT PERFECTLY.
and cut the world in two: can you not see it
dryderin: I CAN it's almost painful
dryderin: ahahahahaaaaa
and cut the world in two: it is so perfect
and cut the world in two: you realize i will badger you until you put it on
dryderin: OK FINE
and cut the world in two: if you let me i would fill the entire playlist with adam lambert songs
and cut the world in two: you think i am kidding but i am not

As mod of HSO I will fill the Karkat♥Terezi team playlist with eminently respectable music.

(guys did you know once I was in the AI8 fandom and it was the most batshit fandom I have ever been in ever but I came out of it with a ridiculously unironic affection for Adam Lambert)

inkpool — Sat, 23 Jul 2011 03:06:15 GMT

Did a minor friends cut today; just comms, defunct journals, and people I haven't talked to in years. I didn't cut anyone from Legendia fandom or later unless the journal looked well and truly dead. If you think you were cut in error, let me know and I'll fix it.

Other than that! I think most people reading this already know about HSO and the amount of my life it has take up for the past few days. We now have over 300 signups, and I am so excited. SO EXCITED. You cannot comprehend the magnitude of my excitement. But I am le tired, so I will cut this post short.

inkpool — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 22:17:49 GMT

So you have probably all seen this already, but hs_olympics is LIVE. Come join us and support your favorite ship with fanworks and squee! It promises to be an excellent time. :>

Thus far we have three confirmed teams (Rose♥Kanaya, John♥Dave, and Dave♥Terezi), with two more awaiting confirmation once I get palhonchosity shit sorted out (TAZ WAKE UP). Also within a hairsbreadth of making the cut are Team Karkat♦Kanaya (needs one more member), Team John♦Vriska (one more member), Team John♥Vriska (two more members), Team Tavros♥Gamzee (two more members), and Team Vriska♥Terezi (two more members)! Consider signing up and making a team somewhere very happy :>

THIS IS SUPER EXCITING GUYS I have been so, so glad to see so many people signing up and being enthusiastic about this challenge! I just want everything to work out and be a success.

I have also not gotten any writing done since Saturday, but I think managing seventy-three signups counts as productivity, so nyeh.

A POST ABOUT WRITING AND THINGS.

inkpool — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 20:18:20 GMT

So way back a really long time ago, urban_anchorite asked me to talk about my editing process, and I said I would and then quickly became buried in work and ~~forgot about it entirely~~ thoughtfully decided to save the post for a better time! That time is now. I know you have all crept to the edge of your seats in anticipation.

This is the thing about me and writing: I don't outline. At all. I figure things out as I go along, and I generally don't know exactly what's going to happen until I get close to the very end. When I start a fic, I generally have a beginning, a few things (lines, images, scenes) I want to happen in the middle, and (at least) a vague idea of how it's going to end. Everything else is kind of a blur. I had the resolution of TLG plotted out oh, thirty minutes after I first got the idea for the fic--but I'm still not entirely sure what's going to happen in chapter 5. So I'm constantly asking myself: what needs to happen next? How do I get to that point, and how do I frame that process? In other words, I'm constantly looking for the Next Scene.

When I write one-shots, I generally don't write until I've figured out a Next Scene that "feels" right--which is a very instinctive process that I can't explain to you. ("Hmm, well, I could do a Solon flashback right here, and then--I think--maybe go right to the confrontation scene? Yeah, that sounds good.") But this generally doesn't work with anything of significant length, not if I want to finish it in the next century. So I go on the fly: okay, I've written Karkat and Dave arguing enough for now, what can I do next? Oh, how about a pesterlog? And so on and so forth, until I've reached the end of the section.

The problem with this approach is that it inevitably involves a lot of false starts. I slot in the wrong scenes, or they start in the wrong places, and the story begins to go off the rails. Sometimes it's so drastic that I stall--this happened while I was writing Construction, where I jumped from Vriska and Terezi's first meeting to their early friendship and the establishment of the Scourge Sisters. I got midway through that scene and just stopped; I couldn't make myself write more. Eventually I realized that I had to jump further into the future for the next scene, to a point where they were already partners. But it's not always that huge a problem, and I can often grit my teeth and write through it, which is what I've been doing with TLG.

So I have this draft. The beginning is usually solid; the ending is usually solid. It's the points in-between that are a gigantic mess. With the last chapter of TLG, for example, I started with Karkat and Dave stuck on an adventure together, and I knew I wanted to end it with their miserable fight and the aftermath. What has to happen between then? They have to be brought to a point where they would pound each others' faces in. Or to get even more specific, Dave has a lethal trump card against Karkat; I have to wear him down until he's petty enough to use it. So there's my arc for the chapter: Karkat is sniping at Dave (established by the last chapter), Dave is at first relatively mature about it and then less so, until he snaps and deliberately sets Karkat off.

With that in mind, the problems with my first draft of the chapter become a lot more obvious: the first half of the chapter contains not a lot of sniping and a lot of unnecessary detail (there's a whole paragraph in there about lunch that's cute, but accomplishes basically nothing); Dave is taking potshots at Karkat almost immediately even though, logically (from a Watsonian perspective) and logistically (from a Doylist perspective), he should be taking the high ground at first--which renders the chapter almost totally incoherent. There's also another, more minor problem, which is that the draft is too abrupt: it doesn't flow smoothly. So I cut out the fluff, rearranged the dialogue so that you could see the slow eroding of Dave's efforts at maturity, and spliced some scenes together. There you go! Chapter.

(That makes me sound a lot more methodical than I actually am. Half of this I didn't know consciously while I was doing the cut-rewrite-splice work. I just have a sense of what is Wrong, and what is Right, and I rearrange things around in my head until they become Right.)

That was like, not about editing at all. Whoops!

status report, week godknowswhat + 2:

inkpool — Sun, 17 Jul 2011 18:37:45 GMT

Week of July 10, 2011: 5026 words, holy shit. A bunch of things, most notably me actually finishing Vriska's section of Construction. I was not expecting to manage that.

Next week: continue to work on the Chloe fic (which I'm calling Stranger Lands), beat chapter 3 of TLG into submission, write through Karkat's section of Construction, start working on the kinked fic, and figure out what the hell I'm doing with the ladiesbigbang one.

Excerpt:

Tavros tells you that he dreams of fantastic creatures, of magic and flying; of worlds without quadrants or armies or war. He's an immensely talented writer, although his blood caste prevents him from following that as a profession. A couple perigees after you start playing, you realize that you're actually learning things from him: how to bring a scene to life, fully realized; how to make your opponent believe his enemy is ten times as terrifying as it actually is. He's got an extraordinary imagination, and that's the kind of thing that draws people to you even if you're a rustblood who'll probably be culled before he hits seven sweeps.

HOW TO BE TUMBLR POPULAR, BY EFFIE

inkpool — Sun, 17 Jul 2011 01:41:58 GMT

and cut the world in two: but if you drew on a regular basis you would have a decent following
and cut the world in two: your art is GOOD
and cut the world in two: and you have interesting ideas
and cut the world in two: and--okay look just draw john and karkat kissing a few times
dryderin: KISSING IS HARD
dryderin: /full of excuses!!!
and cut the world in two: DRAW JOHN AND KARKAT HOLDING HANDS?!
dryderin: maybe
dryderin: I will try to watercolor someth- HAND HOLDING IS ALSO REALLY HARD
dryderin: MORE THAN ONE PERSON IN A PICTURE IS HARD
dryderin: PEOPLE INTERACTING IS HARD
and cut the world in two: draw john and karkat making...googly eyes at one another......
and cut the world in two: DRAW CORPSES THEN
and cut the world in two: sad also gets followers
dryderin: o ok guro tiem

I, UH

I THINK I MAY HAVE GIVEN YOU THE WRONG IMPRESSION FERI

I guess this is a post about music.

inkpool — Sat, 16 Jul 2011 18:34:56 GMT

First things first: I have an FST (for my old teensy videogame-fandom, not my new fandom) that needs a cover before I can post it, and I will pay in fic (proper-length fic, even) for one! Your choice of fandoms. Any takers?

Second, songcalls, because I know we all have them! You know, those songs you associate with a character or pairing and sometimes you write or draw to them except then you find yourself so disgustingly full of feelings that you have to stop to tumblr incoherently about HOW KARKAT VANTAS HATES HIMSELF BAWWWWWWWW or uh, maybe that's just me. But my point!

Probably anyone who is following my fic too closely already knows about my completely awful association of How You Survived the War with a character who will not be named (ugh), but the one I am fixating on right now is actually a different Weepies song, notable for its ability to make me care about Feferi and Eridan's relationship like I never have before. It's called Orbiting, and--I will just PASTE LYRICS AT YOU in lieu of explanation:

And I'm out of your range
Now it's kind of strange
How we change orbit in our lives
You were kind of a moon outside of my room
I could just feel you nearby
Now I feel you gone
'Cause I know which side you're on
And it's not mine

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (okay I'm done)

So! Fair's fair, flist: show me your songcalls.

status report, week godknowswhat + 1:

inkpool — Sun, 10 Jul 2011 04:42:20 GMT

Week of Sunday, July 3 - 2994 words. TLG and an abomination of a foursome drabble. The chapter is done, thank the fucking gods--or it's drafted, at least. Which is half the battle. A quarter of the battle. A third?

Next week I want to finish up that commission for help_japan--I'm really sorry about leaving it this long, Seta--and write through the end of Vriska's section in Construction, as well as edit TLG into something approaching coherency. (ambitions, ambitions!)

mimicre and I are also running hs_olympics starting in August--it's a contest where you and your shipmates do PITCHED BATTLE AGAINST RIVAL HOMESTUCK SHIPS, with fic, art, and squee as your weapons! Despite the whole PITCHED BATTLE TO THE DEATH (not really to the death) thing, we are hoping it will be a fun and friendly experience for everyone, and I am really looking forward to it. Signups will probably open in a week or so.

(you are all being strongarmed into this, by the by)

Excerpt:

Karkat sits down on the rock. "Fuck you, Strider," he says, "I know exactly where we're going," but there's no fire in it; he just looks tired.

"Karkles," Dave says, "you don't even have a map. This is Nitram's art project. You were supposed to hang it on the fridge--excuse me, the thermal hull."

Karkat is staring at him--his expression's more surprised than sullen, and his mouth twitches a little. For a minute Dave thinks he might actually laugh, but then he turns away, face falling back into its usual scowl. "Don't condescend to me, you asshole."

On the Karkat Vantas Rage-O-Meter, Dave estimates that's about a four. It's a lot better than he usually gets. "We're still lost," he points out.

I very badly want someone to write Karkat fic to this poem.

inkpool — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 00:40:17 GMT

Another Lullaby for Insomniacs

Sleep, she will not linger:
She turns her moon-cold shoulder.
With no ring on her finger,
You cannot hope to hold her.

She turns her moon-cold shoulder
And tosses off the cover.
You cannot hope to hold her:
She has another lover.

She tosses off the cover
And lays the darkness bare.
She has another lover.
Her heart is otherwhere.

She lays the darkness bare.
You slowly realize
Her heart is otherwhere.
There's distance in her eyes.

You slowly realize
That she will never linger,
With distance in her eyes
And no ring on her finger.

A. E. Stallings

status report, week godknowswhat:

inkpool — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 19:49:54 GMT

Construction - 601 words
the way you want it - 871 words
this nonsense - 584 words
a thing that might be my new ladiesbigbang fic????? - 611 words

= 2667 words.

No excerpt this week as you have already gotten a sneak preview of my most recent foray into You Didn't Need That Free Time Anyway. After this I'll be returning to my usual format (look at me, getting my internet life back in order).

Next week: finishing chapter 3 of TLG, and the help_japan commish, two things which have absolutely nothing to do with one another.

how i couldn't be what you'd need--but oh, how i could make you bleed.

inkpool — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 06:03:31 GMT

kinkmeme recs (THIS BATCH IS ALL PRETTY AWESOME, BTW):
Crysanthemum (Rose/Kanaya arranged marriage fic)
Nuclear Fusion (John and Karkat versus the aliens, awful and brilliant)
Life's Already Bit Me (Terezi♠Vriska, uhuhu)
Ecdysis (Aradia/Rose)
Nowhere Man (John/Karkat, The Little Mertroll without the 'mer')

Oh, and I wrote a thing today (I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS MY LIFE IS A WASTELAND), but in the wake of the most feelingsy update in all of feelingsdom I am in this weird distantly detached state. DOES ANYTHING I DO MATTER ANYMORE? VRISKA JUST WANTS TO HANG OUT WITH JOHN ;_;

this is not the last snowfall.

inkpool — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 00:52:33 GMT

I am taking drabble requests!

Also, have a meme.

- Pick up to 15 OTPs.
- Describe them in less than 15 words.
- Have your flist guess the OTP!

1. We were on opposite sides of a battlefield, and may be again.
2. The honest cheat and the cowardly knight.
~~3. The fortunate son and the one dogged by misfortune.~~ (John/Karkat, guessed by agallimaufry)
4. What comes after "love is not enough"?
5. You were the one time I ever cared enough to fight for anything.
~~6. I rely on your infuriating presence.~~ (Jay/Moses, guessed by jadax)
7. When Reason is cheerful, Passion is cold, and each loves the other.
8. Sincerity in insincerity.
~~9. The act of seeing yourself in what is alien.~~ (Rose/Kanaya, guessed by agallimaufry)
10. I hate you for everything you are, and everything I'm not.
~~11. After the heroes and the villains, can we live happily together?~~ (John/Vriska, guessed by agallimaufry)
12. The difficult relationship of two practiced liars.
13. Two broken kids groping through adulthood together.
14. I know who I really am now: I am the person in love with you.
15. A glorious ending to the story.