gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
Well, in proof of what positive stimuli can do, after a tremendously long, exhausting day, I watched The Losers with Roommate, who'd never seen it before, and now I'm going to bed more cheerfully than I woke up this morning. So there, world.
gen_is_gone: a yellow daffodil bud on the 9/ll memorial (in memoriam)
So leaving aside the bit where I haven't been doing shit for school, for NaNo, for any fannish projects, etc., let's jump right in and pretend the conversation already started.

Today is a strange day for me, the same way September eleventh is strange and May twenty-fifth is strange, and the anniversaries of D-Day are strange. It's strange, and perhaps somewhat offensive, to see Veterans' Day (Armistice Day, Remembrance Day) commercialized, though thankfully my college apartment's lack of television meant I didn't see any ads this year. It's never bothered me that Christmas is as commercialized as it is. This might just be my personal relationship (or not) with the religion around the modern holiday, but it makes sense that feast days be commercialized, if everything else will be. As long as there feast days, there will be someone willing to sell you the feast, or at least some trappings pertaining to it.

But Veterans' Day isn't a feast day. 9/11 isn't a feast day and really, neither is the Glorious 25th. 'Happy Veterans' Day' has the same jarring false note to it as 'Happy Twenty-Fifth of May' and while I imagine there are plenty of people likely to be offended at my inclusion of a fictional date with these others, that one's for my grandparents, though I suppose they all are, really. Grandpa was born the year of the Armistice, and the Great War wasn't his war, but the hope that this peace would lead to the end of wars, or at least the cessation of this one, and the Treaty that pretty directly lead to the one he shed blood and muscle for, looms in history to this day, 96 years on, one hundred years since this war began.

I admit my failings yet again. I don't know my history well enough. I don't have the authority to speak. But this day, and a few other days, I think of my grandparents, and this day, specifically, I think of others' grandparents. It's not a holiday in the sense we (Americans, but maybe not exclusively Americans) tend to think of the word, but it is a holy day. Blood was shed to get to this day, before it and after, and the First World War was not the war to end all wars. So maybe think of veterans today, alive or long since dead, and maybe spare some grief from our seemingly endless well for the millions who died in this war, maybe keep believing in that desperate, exhausted, horrified hope for peace.

(And I don't have an icon with a poppy. I have the September eleventh memorial, a signifier for grief and remembrance.)

Oh Christ

Nov. 2nd, 2014 12:14 am
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
So theoretically I'm doing NaNo. I'm probably going to be working on the seed-story for the too-huge-to-function world, so if I can actually manage to do any of it, expect a lot of dimension-hopping and teenagers freaking out. I say nothing for the quality. I should get an icon for writing...
gen_is_gone: blue and yellow text icon with the words "I reject your canon and write my own" in blue letters (fandom)
Vid recs! Since there isn't anywhere that has all of the vids I most adore, I shall put links to them here.* I do what I want.

Notes for anyone who may stumble on this: Most of these have quick cuts, flashy lights or both. I uh, kind of love fast flashy vids way more than slow ones. So there's that.

Criminal Minds:

* A L L*TheRight*M O V E S by untilwegivein
This one's very dear to my heart. The song in relation to Show provides a really nihilistic context, but overall I'd say it comes out at least a little positive, and hugely gut-punchy. Footage only goes up to Season Five, but since that's where I usually stop watching, no problem. Warnings for quick cuts and flashy lights, as well as CM's usual violence.

* Never Be by tearful eye
Oof. This vid focuses on the many female victims of Criminal Minds and the violence against women so prevalent within the show, but also on its emphasis on fighting back, holding one's own, and giving agency to these victims. It's very powerful, and very dark, but absolutely brilliant. Obviously warnings for violence against women, and themes of trauma and PTSD.

* Coming Down Fast by shinealightonme
And the other side of the coin. This vid focuses on the unsubs of Criminal Minds, set to perhaps the wince-worthy brilliant song choice, "Helter Skelter". Pretty on point. Very well done, frightening vid, but for the love of all gods, exercise caution. Aside from the fairly regular cuts/lights warnings, this is a pretty much constant stream of ultraviolence, from the POV of the people committing it.

Harry Potter:

* Harry Potter - Through the Pensieve by Gen Ip
A pretty epic retelling of the series leading up to the Battle of Hogwarts. It's one of my all time favorites. A must see, but bring your tissues. Quick cuts.

* Breath of Life by Sparralex
Good with portraying the scope in the last movie/story. Flashing lights.

Doctor Who:

* The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Daleks by Andrew Orton
A really funny fusion of seventies daleks and the TV show version of the H2G2. Exactly What It Says On The Tin.

* Doctor Who: What About Everything - A BabelColour Tribute by BabelColour
Bless BabelColour. This just makes me happy. The tribute covers all eras up to Series Six, and the footage fits the lyrics perfectly. The line "what about fortune and fame" makes me wish that the EDAs were a television series, just so that Fitz could have a reference there.

* Glósóli by [personal profile] such_heights and [personal profile] purplefringe
Gah! Pretty and filled with depth and keen notice of motif and symbolism within Series Five and Six (and a little bit of Four). So. Pretty.

* SAIL by karaaislinn
Fuck it, I love the song and how weirdly dark it is, and how creative, given the footage available. Some quick cuts.

* Whovian Craziness by oOMathiildeOo
For some reason, some of the jokes bug a little bit, and it's nu!Who centric. But the timing and song choices are impeccable and mostly hilarious.

* Handlebars by flummery
Ah, Handlebars. *Vindicated sigh* Everything I loathe about the Tenth Doctor, in one convenient vid. Warnings for quick cuts, some canon-typical violence and Ten being absolutely eviscerated.

* Never Look Away by [personal profile] purplefringe
Gorgeous, gorgeous. A not-quite-shippy Eleven&Clara vid that's also amazingly thoughtful and deep. Combines all of my favorite fanvid elements: fast pacing, a fast song, thematic resonance and Pretty. It's immediately apparent just how much work and love [personal profile] purplefringe put into this, and it's a joy to watch. Funnily enough, this was my introduction to both this song and Vienna Teng in general, and I actually connect it much more to the boys, a connection only reinforced by the quote at the beginning of YBEB part two. Either way, this is incredible, I absolutely recommend. Warnings for tons of very fast cuts and bright flashing lights.

* 48 Years of Doctor Who - Marching On by xxdrosexx
The other vid that makes me wish the EDAs had been a live-action show. As the name implies, this is a tribute to Doctor Who's forty-eighth anniversary. "Marching On", by the way, is one of those perfect vidding songs that when done right is guaranteed to make me sniffle. Fast cuts, Doctor Who's typically arbitrary levels of violence.

* Blank Space by [personal profile] purplefringe and [personal profile] such_heights again
AHAHAHAHA This is my new favorite vid. The Doctor and the Master through out time and space, set to a very meta Taylor Swift song. I love it so much. Um, warnings for the bad kind of bondage--their relationship, it should be abundantly clear, is fucked up. Also spoilers.

* to the grave by KatrinDepp
An introspective on series seven's arc and Clara. Fantastically if disconcertingly edited, but as warning there are lots of intentional glitches and pauses timed to the music that can cause eyestrain and should absolutely come with a seizure warning. But it's amazing, and really thoughtful nonetheless.


* Ride To California by bradcpuvids
Oh my, this is fun. Really fast, really exciting look at Phase One and the actual assembling of the Avengers. It also ends with The Avengers, which satisfies me as a stopping point to no end. Not to mention I love the irony of a song all about getting to California in a vid about heroes famous for working from New York. Lots and lots of flashing lights.

* Hey Ho by [personal profile] thuviaptarth
An examination of Marvel (specifically the MCU) and its relationship with and portrayal of the military. I really like this, but there is a nit-picky bit of me that deeply wishes the vid-maker had waited 'til after the release of Winter Soldier, because REALLY. Large Emphasis on needles.

* MCU by lim
The absolute shiniest. Fast and funny and really just ridiculously entertaining and seriously a Crowning Moment of Awesome. Bonus points for Shirtless Men of Marvel appreciation and a Natalia and Peggy duet of Badass in the middle (it makes sense in context, ok?). Lots of very fast cuts.

* Marvel's Phase 1 & 2 - A Look Back
Exactly What It Says On The Tin. Marvel Studios blowing their own horn yes, but damn is it impressive.

* Avengers: The Musical 3 by Daily Asgardian News
Just fucking hilarious. As the title implies, there are two others that come before it, and really, everything Daily Asgardian News does is worth checking out, but this is my favorite.

* Black Widow movie trailer by Elinor X
The movie we all want and still aren't getting. It's a fantastic trailer. Needles, and canon-typical violence.

Iron Man

* Oh No by lily_the_kid
So "Oh No" by Marina and the Diamonds is totally my Sam Jones song, but it really does fit Tony Stark perfectly. Fast-paced and well-edited. Canon-typical violence and Tony-typical flashy lights and explosions.

* Idiotheque, another one by [personal profile] purplefringe and [personal profile] such_heights
Again, brilliant song choice. Vids about Tony Stark's myriad issues are kind of a dime a dozen done poorly, but when they're done right, they can be addictive.

* Cuckoo by fiveyearmission
Yes, I know, another Tony-has-issues vid set to a Mariana and the Diamonds song. What can I say? Meta-textual musings on fame and pop-stardom fit Anthony Stark quite well. The usual violence and light warnings apply, and also it's part of a YouTube playlist, so it goes to the next on the list automatically. It bothers me, I dunno if anyone else cares.

* All Systems Go by LeeVee
I really love the sort of declaration in reference to the entire MCU with the phrase "welcome to the new age". Other than that, I just like the song, and I like well-done Tony vids. Again, flashing light and explosions, and this is on a playlist as well.

Captain America (Predictably, there's a bunch)

* Sorrow by [personal profile] trelkez
Um, this was made in 2011 by someone much better at predicting things than I. All about Steve's relationships with Peggy and Bucky during the war, and thus full of Harsher In Hindsight moments and heartbreak. Quite lovely, and, as its name would suggest, quite sad.

* Clint Eastwood by [personal profile] giandujakiss
Good Christ this is skin-crawlingly creepy. In a good way. The song applies to the story interestingly, and is both horrifying in how up-front it is about the Winter Soldier's torture and conditioning, and heartbreaking in its references to the "Future".

* oh well, I guess we're gonna find out by [personal profile] kaydeefalls
Megan Takes The Lyrics Too Literally And This Gave Her The Idea For An Apocalypse AU Of Endless Unhappy. Yeeeah, I can't watch this without crying. I swear it's just me though. I mean, if you too get upset by Matchbox Twenty's "How Far We've Come", this will probably upset you too. But really, it's almost certainly not as distressing as I make it out to be.

* Raise the Dead by k9lover27
Dark and sad. Gorgeous song. Canon Typical violence.

* Captain America Steve & Bucky by thegwynvids
collar me, don't collar me is oddly haunting for such an otherwise upbeat tune. Fitting though.

* When You Were Young by [personal profile] violace
I swear I wouldn't like The Killers if not for the odd contexts in which I first hear their songs. In this case, I tend to have to keep from eyerolling at the obvious context and the whole Single Woman Seeks Good Man shtick within the song by itself, but in the context of the boys? Heartbreaking.

* We Go Hard by Voordeel
Um, mostly just the boys being pretty and committing acts of violence. Mmm...

* Everybody Wants to Rule the World by VilyaXxX0llwyna
Another dark one, as might be expected. Specifically about Winter Soldier. I think the song choice is spot-on, given the running motif in the movie and in discourse about the movie on outside forces trying to control Steve, and obviously controlling Bucky. The point is that Steve and Bucky don't; they just want to be left alone. One day I shall write that essay on Steve, Bucky, duty, fame, and That One Poem of e.e. cummings's, (and for that matter, finish my own damn vid) but today is not that day.

* O Death" by Autumn Hobbit
VERY dark. I love the song, and what it means in the context of the vid. Again, warnings for canon typical violence, but this one specifically focuses on it, instead of being in the background. So there's that. Also, it's pretty dark visually too, and I think the creator made it with torrents from before the official release, so it's a little pixelated in places.

* Star Spangled Banner by Camunki
A Winter Soldier fanvid set to a minor key version of The Star Spangled Banner. Whoof. Um, wow. Just very powerful, especially what gets the focus of the last two lines.

Agent Carter

* Kill of the Night by yotb0ka
A great Peggy boast-vid, that manages to totally capture the essence of Agent Carter even though it only uses footage from the first two episodes. Canon-typical violence, and be warned: Peggy is very violent.

* china doll in a bullpen by Nirmenia
I feel like this vid's existence was completely inevitable, but it's so utterly perfect anyway. Dessa's 'Bullpen' could've been written about Peggy. Again, violence warning.


* Parachute by ThingsWithWings
Honestly this vid is what pushed me into even tentatively watching Leverage, because the first time I saw this I was filled with this huge, intense want that I can barely explain. I don't even care about the show itself, I just adore the OT3 and I'm stealing them and filing off their numbers and sticking them in a space opera.

* Radioactive by ibroketheinternetxo
...uh, see above. But more seriously, I like the action-y take in this one. Some intense flashy lights.

Gravity Falls

* My Songs Know What You Did in Gravity Falls by Koceta GM
If any Fall Out Boy song fit any kids' show, it would be 'Light Em Up'. A song all about dangerous and deadly secrets married to a vid about making deals with the devil. It's really well-timed, and goes up to 'Society of the Blind Eye'. I don't really think there's anything in Gravity Falls that needs to be warned about, but um, body horror maybe?

* This Is Halloween by LifeIsRandom14
Marilyn Manson's cover of 'This Is Halloween' finally found a perfect fit. The vid only uses footage up to the end of season one, but it also uses at least one clip from every episode.

Other Things:

* He's moving up slowly... (Inception) by LightNeverFades
A rather sexy Arthur/Eames vid I found in my bebe!fangirl days and was quite taken with and which uses next to no footage from the actual movie. I hadn't seen it in literally years and didn't think it would hold up that well, but nope, still pretty damn awesome. I dunno if this is a thing people need to watch out for, but the vid is quite (visibly speaking) dark, and and has high contrast saturated colors. Oddly enough, the last time I checked, the link was dead, but it isn't now. Hmmm.

* Aha! (Orphan Black) by surendertorandomness
I love this for the song, the pacing, and the way it treats Alison's paranoia and substance abuse. This is something that mildly annoyed me in the show itself, when other people's similar quiet meltdowns were treated seriously, and Alison became the butt of all the Stepford Wives jokes imaginable. Quick cuts, canon-typical violence from Alison, which is to say: Alison Hendrix has moments of implied or explicit violence, but comparatively less graphic than the show as a whole.

* Remember the Name (Game of Thrones) by obsessive24
Uh, for a show I don't even watch based on a book series I don't even read, I seem to stumble over Westeros rather a lot. I like anachronistic but thematically relevant song choices in vids? I got nothin'. Obviously, Game of Thrones's canon typical violence is much more extreme than other shows', so be warned.

* Devil Wouldn't Recognize You (Elementary) by obsessive24
Again for things I don't watch, though this one I really want to. Lots of quick cuts.

* King and Lionheart (Pacific Rim) by [personal profile] violace
Uh, I have a weird relationship with "King and Lionheart"; leaving it at that, this vid makes me cry. Warnings for bright flashing lights and disaster porn.

* Come Little Children (Over the Garden Wall) by TalkingSoup
A really very spooky, eerie little vid. It's spoilery, but Over the Garden Wall only has ten short episodes, so I doubt anyone will actually be all that spoiled. The footage size and quality varies, but it's not that noticeable.

*Note: none of these fanvids are mine; they belong to their respective creators. For that matter, none of the songs or footage in these fanvids are mine; they belong to the capitalist bastards who crack down on torrenting their creators as well.


Oct. 8th, 2014 04:53 pm
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
I want to create something, but my art skills are mediocre, my stories are [Megan metaphor] hovering intangible somewhere just out of reach, and I've lost three crotchet hooks in two weeks.

This last is particularly frustrating as it happened just as I started working on a new blanket and is coming the end of a larger period of hating everything to do with ADD and forgetting things mere instances after mentally reminding myself to write them down so I won't forget them. This is especially bugging right now for any number school related reasons, but also has to do with a tumblr post about someone hating ADHD squirrel jokes. Which, I get that this person hates them being made by people who don't have ADD/ADHD, and I can pretty much check down the list of symptoms they were talking about but...if I don't joke about it then all I have is the worthless/lazy self-loathing and the perpetual "you'd be at the top of the class if you'd just apply yourself" from pretty much every high school teacher I had. I do have ADD moments, where I see something and get completely distracted, or accidentally interrupt someone because just had a thought I need to tell everyone omg, and well, they're funny. And it's better (for me) to laugh at myself and just how stupid ADD can make me act, then get constantly fixated on every fucking thing I forget or fail to do or lose.

So I got to my class worried I'd be late and then realized I'd forgotten that class was canceled today. Then I went and spent almost an hour sitting in a tree think about Snape-love and Snape-hate and fans of Jaime Lannister and anti-fans of Steven Moffat and about how humans are still humans even when committing the kinds of acts that make us convince ourselves they couldn't possibly be. And now I'm here.
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
So somebody fucking else has already started and is posting their version of the not-so-Super Sekret-Project. I wanted to make a podfic version of your blue-eyed boys in part because I didn't think anyone else ever would, and now that someone else is, I don't know whether to be angry-screaming-child jealous or just crumple up and stare into space and be deeply, deeply humiliated. I feel fucking stupid for ever think anything I could do would be good enough and then somebody else beat me to it and I can't even be mad at them because that actually is petty and nasty. They have no idea what this particular piece of literature means to me, but I have no idea what it means to them either. Maybe they went through something objectively worse than I did this summer, and YBEB was their coping mechanism. Or maybe they just read it and loved it. It doesn't matter. I want desperately just to be happy that someone (more than one person even) cared this much about it, for M's sake, but gods, I was going to give her my voice, put myself forward on the internet in a way I never have before because I'm scared to, and I feel like my legs have been taken out from under me. It's fucking stupid and childish and awful and I want to fucking cry.


Sep. 23rd, 2014 05:11 pm
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (eqivalent of a shrug)
I want coffee. I don't want to get up and make coffee. I also really shouldn't be drinking coffee, as I've had roughly the equivalent of three cups today after being more or less off regular drinking since I got back to school (the troubles of early classes; when you most want/need it, you have no time to make it). I also stayed up til 5:40 in the morning, fell asleep for an hour twenty and then ditched my first class this morning to get (not much) more sleep. Coffee right now would not be ideal. But I want it, and have no access to decaf or anything else that might give me the taste without the caffeine.

Hence, a problem.
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
Ushas was being morbid again. This was far from out of the ordinary, with Ushas, but it got irritating after a while. She kept droning on and on about her Cousin who’d been executed for treason, how he’d been force-regenerated until he’d just keeled over, a man no more two thousand and two, dead at the High Council’s feet. It would have been easy to offer sympathy for her, but she was too fascinated by the mechanisms of his death to be all that concerned that he’d died. Ushas could be like that.

Theta Sigma rolled over, sat up and brushed the grass from his tunic, got to his feet and walked away. It was as easy as any method for getting her to shut up.

“Are you even listening to me?” she yelled to his back, when her brain caught up to her mouth and realized that the person she’d been talking at was making an escape.

“No”. He went for honesty rather than excuses on the basis that it would be better for all involved if Ushas was mad for a day, than if he made some excuse that made her believe he cared at all, and seek to further pursue the subject. Theta thought it best not to encourage her when she started in on death or experimentation.

The day was glorious. Despite the better part of an hour devoted to Ushas pontificating with unbecoming relish on a particularly gruesome subject, he was rather pleased at his call to skive off. The new professor of Ancient Cosmology and pre-Rassilonite History was, in Theta’s mind, overenthusiastic about the subject to an alarming degree. Better to let the woman ramble at the poor rule-abiding idiots wasting their time indoors.

He left Ushas to sulk under the silver-leaved aspen and let his feet take him where they would. He sucked in the scent of turned spring soil as he walked, eyelids half-closed as the wind teased the curls in his hair. By the time he’d left Ushas out of sight and hearing, with a few decent-sized hills between them, he was sweating just slightly in the heat. Cresting another mound of dark umber grass, he flopped to the ground again and looked around. In the distance, he could see the shine of the Dome, impossible to spot until it blinded the eyes with its glare. Beyond the Dome, if one were to squint, on a good day one might see the faint outlines of the pauper cities, clustered outside the glittering bubble. Smoke rose from them constantly, Theta knew, along with a royal stench, but from here it was difficult to tell.

He hadn’t been outside the Dome since he was a Loomling, and even then, it was a rare occurrence. Brax had taken him to a freakshow on his hundredth Name-day, and then of course there were the days with Kan-po, and the time Koshei had dared him to slip out the gates on his own, to prove he couldn’t do it. Theta had, and Koshei had fumed for weeks. And one night-but he cut off that thought, too creepy for a day like this, with the suns pouring light and heat from directly above and just above the horizon.

There wasn’t all that much to see, really. The mayflies in their cramped cities all looked the same, faces pinched and clothes worn. He spared a moment of distant horror at the concept of living for so short a time. Poor things! What kind of life must they have, with barely a century to experience it? But that was something Ushas would think of, and he shook his head as if to tumble those ideas from out of his mind.

Theta breathed in deeply again, huffed a dreamy sort of sigh, and pulled a flask from an inside pocket. The wine was still mostly chilled, and refreshing after the hike. He gulped it faster than maybe he should have, thirsty as he was, and wiped his mouth on the back of hand, just because Brax wasn’t around to disapprove.

“Can I have some?”

Theta twitched more violently than he would ever admit later, and turned guiltily to see who was doing the asking. He stared. A little girl, couldn’t be more than fifty, dark skinned and round faced, had apparently made her way up to his side without his notice. He glared at her.

“Wine isn’t for children,” he said shortly, indicating (or so he hoped) that she’d go away without fuss. How had a Loomling this young wandered so far without a Cousin or a caretaker of some kind? The girl stuck out her lower lip.

“My Gran lets me drink wine sometimes,” she batted her eyelashes. Theta rolled his eyes.

“Do I look like your Gran?”

“No,” she said. “Nobody looks like my Gran”.

“I’m sure,” he snapped. “I’m busy. Don’t you have a grownup somewhere looking for you?”

“You don’t look busy,” the girl said, ignoring his question completely. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “If I give you a sip of wine, will you go away and not bother me?”

She shrugged. Theta chose to accept this as an affirmative. He handed her the flask. The girl raised it to her lips and practically chugged from it, until he reached over and yanked it from her hands.

“That’s enough. You’ll make yourself sick”.

The girl lay on her stomach, chin in hands. “I’m Iris,” she said. “Who’re you?”

“I thought you said you’d go away if I gave you something to drink,” he said in resigned annoyance.

“Didn’t say anything. You assumed I’d go away”. Iris grinned at him. Her gray tunic had the red smudges of grass stains on the seat, and Theta noticed her shoes were gone, her stockings stained as well. Her hair was bunched in place on either side of her head by what he presumed to be two very sturdy white ribbons, and she had even more grass stuck to the top of her head.

“Why in the name of the Other are you so dirty?” he asked. She shrugged again. It seemed to be a habit of hers.

“I was rolling down the hills,” she replied. “It’s fun”. She rolled over on her back and fidgeted in the grass, wiggling her toes.

“So. Who are you,” she asked again.

Theta gave up and scooched to face her. “I’m Theta Sigma, Prydonian Third Decade, of House Lungbarrow,” he held out a hand. Iris took it.

“Iris Wildthyme, daughter of Sally Wildthyme, of my Gran’s house” she said imperiously, and formally took his hand, shaking it vigorously.

“Daughter?” Theta repeated, brought up short. “You mean you’re a mayfly? But then how did you get inside the Dome?” Iris looked affronted.

“I’m not a fly! Anyway what would you know about anything, Mr. Theta Sigma of House Wheelbarrow?”

“Lungbarrow,” he muttered.

“Whatever. I’m going to be a Time Lady”. Oh. Well that would be it.

“So you’re a Scholarship girl,” he asked, with sudden interest, and not a small amount of pity.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I am not! What’s a Scholarship?”

“It just means that you came to the Academy from outside. That your family aren’t Time Lords. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he added quickly. “Much”. Iris looked puzzled.

“What’s the Academy?”

“How could you be training to be a Time Lady and not know about the Academy? For that matter, again, how could you be living inside the Dome and not know of the Academy?”

“Wow,” said Iris, “You ask more questions than I do”.

Suddenly burningly curious, Theta pressed her. “No, really, how?”

“My Gran,” she said simply, shrugging again. Theta laughed, perhaps not kindly. “Oh I’m sure your Gran knows all about being a Time Lord”.

“Lady,” Iris cut in.

“Oh, absolutely, Time Lady” he nodded along, mock serious. “I’m sure she’s studied the Scrolls of Rassilon, and understands all about temporal theory, and can unlock the Vortex all by herself”.

“Exactly,” said Iris brightly. “Well, I dunno about the Scrolls of Rassilon, but Gran knows way more about the Web of Time and how to travel the Vortex and the in-tri-ca-cies of the fourth dimension”. Theta gaped at her.

“Are you joking,” he asked, half-annoyed and half-baffled. “Did a girl called Ushas put you up to this?”

Iris wrinkled her nose. “What kind of a name is Ushas?”

“A name for stuck up dilettantes obsessed with dissecting things,” he muttered. “Not important. Who sent you? This is just a stupid prank, isn’t it? Because you aren’t making any sense”.

Iris looked suddenly furtive. Theta pounced on the opportunity. “Who was it, hmm? Someone sent you”.

“You have to promise not to tell. Really promise, with blood,” she whispered—melodramatically it seemed to him. He waved a hand dismissively.

“Of course. Whatever you want, Iris of Wildthyme”.

“That’s not my name,” she snapped, then looked down. “Promise?”

He sighed. “I promise”. She held out her left hand expectantly. Theta stared at it for a moment, then it clicked. “Oh right, sorry. Blood oath and all”. He stuck out his own left hand. She pulled a pin from her hair--so that’s how she’d been keeping it in place, he thought—and poked his palm with it. A drop of orange-red beaded up, and he gasped at tiny, sharp pain. He hadn’t quite expected her to do it. She did the same to her own hand, then clasped his, and shook once, firmly for such a little girl.

“Well then,” Theta prompted, acutely aware of the sting in his palm, and suddenly also aware of everything else around him, from the heat rolling beads of sweat down his forehead, to the mild itch of the grass on his knees, to Iris’s soft, dry, very small hand in his.

“My Gran sent me to spy on you,”

He frowned. “Your Gran sent you to spy on Time Lords?” he asked, the How briefly overwhelming the Why.

“No,” Iris corrected, her voice still lowered as though someone could here them, alone though they were in the sunshine. “She sent me to spy on you, Theta Sigma. But I was hot and thirsty and I forgot I wasn’t supposed to let you know I was here”. She looked quite miserable, all of a sudden, and Theta had the bizarre impulse to put an arm around her shoulders. It was quickly drowned by more pressing matters, however.

“Why would anyone want to spy on me? Especially a mayfly?”

“I told you,” grumbled Iris, “I’m not a fly. I’m a Time Lady in-training. And Gran saw the future around you”.

“Ordinary people aren’t supposed to Gaze,” Theta said distantly. He was latching onto irrelevant details and he knew it, but felt the need to say it anyway.

“Oh, Gran’s not ordinary,” said Iris, “But she doesn’t like to anyhow. She says it gives her terrible headaches”.

He giggled a bit, mind still a blank. “Oh I’d imagine it would. Takes twelve trained Seers to properly grasp even the slightest bit of the Unmapped future, but your Gran can do it all by herself as long as she keeps plenty of willowbark on hand”.

Iris looked puzzled, but didn’t comment. Theta came down from the heavens. “Why though?” he stared at her, jumping back to the point. “Why would anybody want to spy on me?”

Iris shrugged again, the little motion endearing and infuriating at once. “How should I know? Gran doesn’t tell everybody all the things she knows. That would be rather silly”.

“Of course. Very silly of her. Tell me Iris, what are you going to tell your Gran about all of this?”

“Erm, probably that you skipped class today to play outside?” she looked down. “I shouldn’t have talked to you.”

Theta sat back, trying and failing to take it in. “Well I’m glad you did. If someone’s spying on me I think I want to know all about it. And what I’m going to do someday that makes Gazing at me so interesting”. He looked at Iris again, young and dirt-stained, epitome of innocence—or so he’d thought.

“Why you,” he asked her, anticipating the shrug this time.

“I’m young and sweet, Gran said. And small, and good at hiding. And I like sneaking inside the Dome. It’s not that hard”. It had been nearly impossible for him. He wondered what her trick was.

His mind raced and he could think of no immediate solution. “Eum, tell you what, Iris. Would you like to keep your little job?” he asked. She nodded. “Well, then why don’t you tell your Gran that everything went fine today, and don’t say anything about us talking. I won’t say anything about you to the Imperial guard, and you can tell me all about your Gran in return. Sound fair?”

His voice rose a bit at the end, and she clearly noticed it when she said, “I’m not a baby. And I’m not going to tell you about my Gran so you can spy on her—”

“But she’s spying on me! She started it,” he retorted. Iris glared at him. “I wasn’t finished, Dummy. I promise I’ll ask Gran not to spy on you anymore if you can let me in sometimes. Not,” she said hurriedly, “to spy on anybody, just to play. I like hanging around inside the Dome. It’s nice”.

He looked at her, and thought about it. She squirmed uncomfortably while he deliberated. Eventually he came to a decision.

“Blood-oath that you won’t spy on me again, that you’ll at least ask your Gran?”

“Blood-oath,” she said solemnly, and they repeated the gesture. “I want to make sure,” Theta said, and put his palms to the sides of her temples. She jerked away. “I said I promise! We did an oath and everything!”

“Yes, well that might work for children and your Gran, but I want to know you’ll keep to your promise,” he said. She folded her arms, obviously unhappy, but she let him lay his hands on her head.

Her breath hitched at the invasion of privacy, but Theta didn’t stay long. The whole telepathy concept creeped him right out, and rummaging in a little girl’s head held no appeal. He satisfied his doubts, and lifted his hands away, but not before something slipped from her head to his.

“Hey…” he said, woozily, as Iris continued to frown at him. “Wha’ was tha—” and tipped gently over.

He woke with sun in his eyes, squinting. A little girl leaned over him worriedly, and poked him in the face. He swatted her finger away.

“What happened?” he asked the girl. Iris, that was her name, he recalled.

“I dunno. You were drinking a lot of wine and then you fainted,” Iris said. “Are you okay?”

Theta rubbed at his forehead. “Yes, I’m sure I just got too hot, or something.”

He stared at Iris. Iris stared back. “I’m sorry, who are you again?” he mumbled, still light-headed.

“I’m Iris Wildthyme. I’m a Scholarship girl from where the mayflies live. I’m going to be a Time Lady”.

Theta blinked, and studied her face. It held nothing but slightly worried confusion and earnestness.

“Theta Sigma, Prydonian Third Decade, of the House Lungbarrow,” he muttered, passing a hand in front of his face. “Nice to meet you Iris”.

She grinned at him, showing many small teeth. “Maybe you could show me around? It would be nice to have a friend”.

He sighed, but got to his feet and pulled her up as well. “Alright, Iris Wildthyme. I’ll be your friend”.
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
It's Death's entreating Azrael at the end of Reaper Man: Lord, what can the harvest hope for, if not for the care of the Reaper Man?

It's on my left shoulder. I've scheduled an appointment in October for my second and possibly third. The second is a Harry Potter quote meant to be in dialogue with the Discworld one on the subject of mortality and humanity. /nerd

Unfortunately the side effects of any number of things from yesterday meant that when I took off the bandage (after the requisite four hours' keeping it on) to show my friends, I fainted and then was sick. Humiliating experiences for the fucking ages. However, if I just pretend it never happened, I may be able to avoid ritual suicide in the name of never facing friendgroup again.

That came out much bitterer than I'd hoped. No matter; I have a tattoo.
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
- The quasi-Victorian household that consist of the asexual man and the gay woman in what started as a marriage of convenience before they discovered that on top of being good beards, they rather liked each other, the wife's partner of many years and her son from a previous relationship, the husband's recently orphaned niece, and the brother and sister they adopted.

- The married couple, Kate and Monica, who don't really seem to do anything but snark at boring movies I find myself unable to avoid watching. It's always Friday night for them, and they watch the boring movies as an excuse to unwind and snuggle. Kind of unpardonable sappy, but they really rarely show up outside of that context anyway.

- The crew of the space-faring tender ship [No Serial Numbers] that consists of stolen versions of FitzSimmons and the crew of Demo Reel Productions, led by Captain Helena Menendez, who has much more in common with Malcolm Reynolds than either she or I like to admit (but at least she knows she's an asshole and doesn't pretend otherwise, dammit). I think there's actually something here, but it's really hard to shake off the very obvious origins for most of the characters and the setting, which is somewhat hindering my ability to write it.

- William Perks, disabled teen fighter-pilot in steampunk fantasy World War II, and his two best friends and his exasperated CO. I love him, and he actually might have enough setting/plot to make it to the NaNoWriMo shortlist this year. We shall see.

- Lea and Latícia, the immortal telekinetic telepath and her protege, and the complicated history Lea has with the woman at the heart of most of my stories in this particular verse, and who is largely responsible for everything that goes wrong. Untangling this one looks exceedingly hard, but on the other hand, may go a long way in explaining $character's motivations for fucking things up in the manner that she does and setting the ball rolling for most of the plots in this verse.

Barring the last two, none of these take much priority in terms of headspace, and don't really have anywhere to go, but they're fun id candy nevertheless.
gen_is_gone: the TARDIS, with the universe exploding out from her (when the whole universe is your backyard)
...nope. Can't quite process "Listen" yet. But yes, I have caught up, and Vastra and Jenny are adorable, as usual. I quite hold with the theory floating around about them being an under-the-radar D/s couple, and "Deep Breath" does nothing whatsoever to discourage this. Jenny's quite the bratty sub, and it's lovely.

Home again

Sep. 15th, 2014 05:03 pm
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
We got back from NDK at 10:30 last night and I proceeded to stay up til 11:45 catching up on tumblr. That's probably one of my more pathetic internet addictions. Con was fun though.
gen_is_gone: a yellow daffodil bud on the 9/ll memorial (in memoriam)
I've never been able to articulate my feelings about this day to my satisfaction, and I doubt I'll be able to today. Both this year and last I've been away from home, and more relevantly, away from cable TV, and so both this year and last I woke, got ready for the day and went off to classes unaware of what day it actually was, only for something (today a girl in full patriotic wear--flag on the back of her jean jacket, blue skirt with stars, flags on her sunglasses even) to jolt me back into awareness.

Today I'm wearing my only Captain America related article of clothing, a T-shirt with the outline of the stealth suit over the breast, much more subtle than most related shirts, and also specifically pertaining to Winter Soldier, hence why I bought it in the first place. I pulled it out of the closet today and deliberated over whether I should wear it, again, unaware of the date. I'd originally planned to wear it tomorrow for the drive to the con, because it's a comfortable shirt and also appropriately fannish, but then decided today would be better and, as I often do, tried to think up a reason today would be significant, and couldn't really come up with one. I am fairly sure that had I remembered the date ahead of time, I wouldn't have worn it.

The thing is, within the slightly more bugfuck crevices of my mind, I do find it fitting, for a bunch of knotted up, hard to explain reasons that have to do with this year and both of my grandparents and what this movie and its characters mean to me, but that's not how it would be interpreted, and I'm not sure I'll keep wearing it. I don't want something this difficult for me to deal with in myself to be misinterpreted to mean something like what the girl with the flag jacket might have intended. And I'm not being fair to her, judging something she clearly wore to represent what today is in her head, but it's too easy to look at something like this, our tendency wear our flag on our head any chance we get, and see something twisted in it.

America is most assuredly known for its rabid pride, and all of the unfortunate, even terrible things that we've done in the name of that pride. It's easy to get caught up in the jingoist rhetoric, the fierce and awful nationalism that it was impossible to escape in the early years, and is only slowly easing now. Our pride is only one of our problems, but it's emblematic of many of the others. We're still so, so defensive of this wound, and it is a wound. This was the first attack on our soil since our own Civil War, an attack against ourselves, by ourselves. If that isn't cause to find ridiculous hilarity in the situation, I'm not sure what is.

We express our feelings about September 11th in a variety of perhaps not healthy, and in many cases, reprehensible ways. We as a country don't know how to get over it, and I don't know that we should. Certainly we must let go of the racism and jingoism that characterized (and continues to do so) our foreign policy following the attacks. This isn't a holiday, and it shouldn't be yet another opportunity to do what we're best known for and go out looking for a fight to start. Thirteen years on and some people have come to terms with it. Some people never had any problems dealing with it, and some people might never fully recover. Americans don't really have any cultural ways to deal with victimization. We don't like to admit that we have been victims, and we hate to admit that we very often victimize others as well. We hold ourselves up to impossible ideals, and when we don't live up to them we deny both our vulnerabilities and the crimes we commit to cover for them. We don't like to acknowledge that we're in pain, or grieving, so we lash out, find others to blame, and since we have such might at our disposal, we are capable of causing disasters hundredfold to those (we believe) have wronged us.

Thirteen years and we still haven't come to terms with being victims, if our current foreign policy situations are anything to go by. We haven't made it to a place where we can, as a nation, acknowledge that in many ways our previous generations' imperialism made the bed we lay in now. Heaven forbid we blame ourselves.

I remember the day of the attacks fuzzily. My mother, white-faced and quiet in what I was too young and oblivious to realize was terror. A half-day at school, spent gleefully if confusedly playing with Legos and boardgames. I had a friend then, excited to be turning six, her birthday party scheduled for that Saturday because it fell on a weekday. She didn't come to school that day. A few days later, when she did come, it was with tear-stained face. Her sixth birthday, the eleventh of September, 2001, now a memory of disaster. Years later I remember a different friend, in a different state, singing a little joke birthday song in minor key, people dying everywhere, but Happy Birthday, and laughing along until quite suddenly I remembered the date. I remember feeling sick.

I've had the weird tendency towards spontaneous art memorializing today every year. It's the only way I know how to express that knotted up ball of conflicting emotions. I wasn't there. No one I know was really affected by the attacks, other than the girl whose birthday they fell on. I was seven,and living on the other side of the damn country. It still consumes me once every year. I both can't and can imagine what it might have been like, on a plane suddenly off course and about to kill me, in a building suddenly hit, suddenly crumbling, caught between fire and the fall. What it might have been, choking, covered in plaster, blinded, dust blocking out the sun. Most news outlets can't seem to help themselves, guilt-tripping audiences into rewatching the gratuitous footage of destruction and snow white dust every year, without fail. I've finally learned not to watch.

It haunts us. As a nation, September 11th looms, hits, and then fades back, and on the twelfth we move on with our lives. I wonder if it will always be like this, for the next twenty, fifty, one hundred years, if instead of poppies we'll trot out yet another round of flag-waving. If we'll have some cute little rhyme, telling us when to remember. We have solemn ceremonies at Ground Zero, and a beautiful, horrifying memorial. These past two years I haven't woken up knowing exactly what day it is, and there's a part of me that feels ashamed, and a part of me that feels that this is how it should be. We shouldn't forget the people who died, but we (a nation, not individually) should let go. Holding on, giving in, lashing out, aren't helping us. We have to put the megaphone down, step off the pile of rubble. If anything, this should be a day of community, of remembrance and mourning, of coming together, rather than a day dedicated to revenge and the planning of wars. A day to remember everyone who died, everyone who was victimized, in the initial attacks, in the aftermath, in the wars, in the decades of American imperialistic interference. All of our dead, all of our victims: American, Iraqi, Afghan, Iranian, Syrian, Libyan, Israeli, Palestinian, we all have suffered.

I am not the person best fit to speak on this, and I'll absolutely be dissatisfied with this attempt to put my thoughts into words, as I have all of the others. But these are my thoughts, and these are my words, and this is my grief, and my sorrow, and my rage, and my terror, and my hope.
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
Multiple exclamation marks. The sure sign of a diseased mind. But yes, I now own a blu-ray edition of the movie with the frozen super-soldiers, and am working very hard not to notice how it doesn't match the normal DVDs. I don't care. I am determined that this is not something I care enough about to detract from the fact that not only do I own this movie, I own it with the commentary.
gen_is_gone: highly saturated image of stark tower with most of the letters blown away, leaving the ostentatious A (some assembly required)
It is the ninth of September. I have a Wal-mart gift card courtesy of said parents, and at twelve ten today Roommate and I are going to said superstore to buy Captain fucking America. It's been six months, many of which have abjectly sucked. I am buying this thing that makes me happy-sad and I really cannot stress enough how much I want it in my hands.
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)
Today Moonbeam and Roommate and another friend came over (well, Roommate didn't come over, she was already here) and we worked on costumes for NDK. It's a con. We're going to a con. On Friday. We're dressing as characters from Puella Magi Madoka Magica. It'll be my first out of state con, so I'm excited for it.

I don't know what this post is. I feel like I should post things though. I feel guilty when I don't. Whatever.
gen_is_gone: blue and yellow text icon with the words "I reject your canon and write my own" in blue letters (fandom)
Things I have noticed:

1. The set-building and scenery hold up beautifully. The CG maybe not so much, but since older and more noticeable generated effects is a fondness of mine, that's no issue.

2. The lack of Chinese/Chinese-American cast is very consipicuous. Like, overwhelmingly noticeable.

3. Having spent much of this summer reading the epic-length recovery story of someone in an uncannily similar position to River's, her whole talking-in-riddles mooncalf shitck is coming off more than a might offensive, and deeply frustrating given the story that could have been told, without changing any of her backstory.

4. Ye gods, do I ever want to smack Malcolm Reynolds. It's funny; when I was a wee middle-schooler, watching for the very first time, Mal's whole unpredictable, sometimes angry sometimes funny sometimes affectionate sometimes an asshole routine didn't bother me, and mostly I didn't even notice. Mal wasn't the most interesting member of the crew, but as a kid I sort of understood that he was the Main Character, and had to be there. Becoming acquainted with the shocking notion that the lead role didn't have to go to the straight cis white guy obviously made me question the roles of most of the formative stories of my younger years, but Mal is an interesting case.

He was never my favorite by any means, but I didn't mind him, and I really do remember an attitude of "well, he needs to be there, might as well go with it" in regards to him and his often sideways actions that I didn't feel even for others in his mold, either because I did dislike them, or because I loved them, flaws or not.

These days my response is pretty much "no, he doesn't need to be there, everyone would have had an easier time without him, the only thing he's done is get them all in one place by dint of owning the ship in question, so godsdammit Mal, shut up and go away". That's hyperbole, but damn is he annoying. Between the constant, unending alpha male dominance games and the absurd, truly reprehensible Madonna/Whore complex thing over Inara, he ends up causing half of all of his problems from his own bad attitude.

*grumble grumble bitch moan* The irritating thing is that Firefly really is such a cultural byword now that not having an opinion is next to impossible and having any opinion other than the steadfast belief in its flawless martyrdom as proof that geeks are still getting screwed by the Man is me and my bitchy feminazi hatred of anything cool. (Again, hyperbole, if there's anyone actually playing along at home). And there is still enough to recommend it and make me wistful for the show it could have been, not just because of its cancellation, but because of the directions within the few episodes it has that Whedon didn't have the knowledge or bravery to take.

I'm not saying any of this to Roommate, because I'm tired of being the one jump all over peoples' favorite thing or taint someone's experience before they've had it (try though I might to find an RL friend who feels the same way about the Tenth Doctor as I do, who wasn't a convert of mine). But I'm glad that she likes what she's seen of it, and I haven't asked her for an opinion on the show's many flaws.

I feel I should get a gold star.
gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (eqivalent of a shrug)
Beyond today being a nightmarish mire of Suck brought on by the worst cramps I've had in months-if-not-years, and the inevitable guilt and self-hatred and grade-related paranoia of missing two classes on the third day of school because I can't. fucking. move, this week's been okay.

I have an appointment for a consultation next Wednesday for at least one of my tattoos, and I am realizing with dismay that all three of my originally planned first tats are actually fucking long by tattoo standards, and that the place I'm going for them is actually fucking expensive by tattoo standards (although it's also nationally rated and specializes in text, hence my choosing it).

I am currently living in an apartment with three other people. They're nice.

NaNo is two months away and is already beginning to giving me serious anxiety headaches.

I want to watch things to distract myself, but I can't actually think of anything other than my precious Marvel movies I've seen sixty times and that I'm saving up for a re-watch with Moonbeam and Roommate and a few other friend peoples. Also I shouldn't be watching things, I should be attempting my fucking homework like a fucking adult so as not fail yet another fucking class. So in point of fact, I'm not doing anything, whether it be brain-turned-off happy distraction or actually important/useful work. This is not ideal.

Both the vid and the Super Sekret Project have stalled out, the vid because all of the technical difficulties are making me seriously want to avoid even thinking about it, and the SSP because it requires Alone Time. Like, no one in the building (or at least our apartment) level Alone Time, which is difficult to get with three other people sharing small space. We shall see how these progress.

That's about it.


gen_is_gone: two one way arrows pointing in opposite directions (Default)

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