Got caught in it, so if anybody tried to get a hold of me... Yeah. No dice. No damage for my family other than no power: branches and leaves fell in the yard, spent a good four hours cleaning it up, but no damage to the house itself. Neighbor had maybe twenty shingles blow off from his house, but he has a generator to keep his refrigerator running, so very little sympathy from me. Dinner the last few nights has been fine: sesame chicken and fried rice the first night, Skyline chili and spaghetti the second night. Gas stoves FTW! Seriously, other than not having anything electronic, it hasn't been that bad - our water heater is also gas, so still have hot showers, just have to do them in the dark.

Typing this at the local library on one of their computers - they have power, and technically they have wireless, but since wireless is through Insight, and since they're down... no wireless. Cable internet is fine though, so still have internet that way.

Reading by candlelight, by the way, gives me a headache.

Five Things Ashley Will Never Mention... Unless Sydney Asks A Direct Question (And Only A Direct Question)

1. Her mother - or rather the female human whose body from which she spawned - is alive, and not dead. Has been not dead for more years than many of her friends would suspect. It's not like it matters though - if you called her up on the telephone and asked her about her daughter, the reply would not be about Ashley at college, or the awards she's won, or even the friends she's made - the reply would be "What daughter?" It's better to think of her as dead.

That's what Ashley's to her, anyway.

2. For as much as she tries to emulate him, Ashley doesn't remember her father. Oh, there's bits and pieces, flash of things - his hand on hers, showing her how to hold a dagger, the echo of his laugh over her head, the feel of him lifting her up and tossing her in the air. But not an individual memory, no.

3. What she does remember is Bernard - her father's mage. The one her mother would like to forget. When father died, Ashley knew he couldn't come around. But Ashley remembers things like school plays, spelling bees, sports days, things all the other parents came to but hers never did, and she knows she heard someone yelling her name, just like all the other parents did (just like all the other kids had). And she would finish her part, her word, her race, and look up through the crowd, and see his eyes. It didn't make up for her mother, then, didn't make all the winning worth it, but it did something. A quiet something, small and hidden, but strong enough to hold on to, in the quiet nights when a mother's arms refused to be there.

He wasn't allowed to come near her, her egg-donator had made sure of that. But Ashley could go to him, at least after she hit her 15th birthday and her rights were expanded. And she did. It didn't make up for not having a father, nor for her mother not being her mother, but it was something sweet and precious all for that. He had no children, but she knew if he was asked if he had a son or daughter, he would name her.

And if somebody asked if her father had made time to come to her plays, her spelling bees, her games, she'd say yes.

3. Bernard was dead before her 16th birthday. He shot himself, determined to not make anyone else kill him - they both knew that magic's price was coming to call on him, and had been for years. There had slight madness during all their meetings, a mania he tried to keep control of, wanting only to protect Ashley and not scare her. But she felt his hands shake in hers, and knew time was short.

When the funeral service was conducted, no one tried to move her from the family section. And when the will was read, leaving her a daughter's share of the estate, she smiled through her tears, knowing he had handed her her freedom.

When she was eighteen, she kept her father's family name, but took Bernard's for her middle.

4. The first time she picked up a hammer in a forge, she dropped it. On her foot.

Good thing she was wearing steel-toed boots.

5. She's loved Sydney in all their myriad forms: from the prickly mage he never quite got to know, to the sharp-tongued woman he loved as a treasure wife first and then as partner, to the indignant scholar, to the crafty girl who stands before her. But in truth, the one that she always laughs about and remembers most fondly, is the French noble. The one who, smart as a man he was, realized being a man in a French revolution was rather too dangerous, and dressed as a woman. A woman who decided that slow looking Irish redhead would be a good mark for a dumb and ignorant husband - and one who wouldn't look too closely under the skirts.

When he finally figures out he should have been looking closer at the breeches, Ashley's already spent five minutes rolling on the ground, laughing.

===================
Umm, Ashley did a drive-by? Sydney is supposed to do one as well, but I haven't been to bed.

What do want of me, she asked
As if it was something he could put into words
Images crashed in his mind
A warrior queen with a flashing sword
Everything not needed for survival cut away
To make room for the hard edges shown
A mother wiping her hands on an apron
All soft and giving, thoughts centered
Around a home she felt no need to leave
A clerk writing numbers in a book
Hair swept up in a tight bun
A pair of glasses perched on her nose

Her eyes pierced through, staring
But he did not think she saw his soul
She looked too long, too hard at him
With nothing crossing her face
To show that she had seen anything of note
Whether good or ill, it was up to his words

Ring clenched in one hand
Fingers tight as his nerves
His emotions in a storm
He did not want the words to tumble
Like mischievous children caught up in play
But then again, there is no magic phrase
That unlocks the heart
No alacazam, no abracadabra, not even
Sindbad's open sesame works here
And neither does "I love you"
For too many have made that the epitome of love
And she would always be contrary
To what others think is the only path

Snippet 1 is a scene I wrote (oh, god, how long has it been?) over five years ago. It is similar in magic to Wandering in Shadows but it isn't quite the same. I'm n ot entirely sure where the page it was written on is, but I've seen in the past couple years, so it is somewhere in my stuff. So, as part of my (early) New Years Resolution to write 5000 words each week, I'm going to be dropping stuff into my journal as snippets of stories, trying to actually get some of them written. NaNo was good for me.

She looked down at the green ribbon in her hands, clean but some of the satin worn from the years of wearing it. There were others laying in a box off to the side of the dresser, ribbons in many other colors but the majority of them shades of green, but none looked so worn as the one in her hands. She stared down as her hands twisted that length of ribbon in her fingers, avoiding the mirror in front of her and the face that would look back should she look in it. Her eyes drifted to the white veil that lay in front of the mirror, and the emerald earrings that lay beside it.

Finally, she straightened her back and stood tall, facing her own emerald green eyes in the mirror. Taking the ribbon and an antique silver brush inlaid with emeralds, she pulled her black hair back into severe braid, the green ribbon - once emerald as her eyes, but now faded to the soft green of rose leaves - weaving through the braid and finally securing the braid from unraveling at the end. Her hands trembled as she reached down for the earrings, placing the brush bristles up to avoid looking at her mother's old but treasured hairbrush. Her hands would not stay steady for the first few tries to place the earrings in, but soon she was left looking down at the white wedding veil on the dresser. For the first time today, her hands were steady as she secured the veil on her head, the blood red roses with dark green petals now encircling her head like a crown. She flipped the veil over her head so she could see, and then turned to look at herself in the full length mirror.

The dress was white and more than vaguely martial. She had been expecting a bitter fight from her Balder, her Apollo, but even he had shrugged away his romanticism today and dressed expecting a fight. If any of the family other than her uncle should catch wind of this ceremony, she would need the sword and dagger she was buckling on. Somehow the archaic sword fit the martial bodice and split skirt she wore, and when she brushed her hand over the pommel, she could feel her ancestor's pleasure of today's happenings. He might not approve of the family she was allying herself with, but he did like Andrew in and of himself. And in the end, even he, Sigurd, knew that she could not trust her family, even if she was their protector.

Flipping down the veil once again, she moved to the door to rap it once to tell Walter she had finished preparing. The door opened smartly to reveal an older gentleman, one who looked to be her father to those who didn't know. His eyes were kind and full of pride as he looked down at the thirteen-year old in front of him, and she knew, while she would never see that in her blood-father's eyes - her mother's death had ensured that, that it was all the more precious for having been earned by her own actions, not given as a right of birth. Her uncle offered her his arm, intent on escorting her to the ritual site, and she took it gratefully - as her uncle, he could not claim the right to walk her to the bonding circle, but as the former knight of the family to the current knight, she could ask him to. And she had.

Closing the door firmly, the runes sealing it from intruders glowed briefly, but it was unnoticed as they turned as one to walk down the hall.

I don't know what to say.

She's in reach after so many months of searching, of wondering if she's alive, wondering if she was whole, and she's in reach... and I dare not touch.

I dare not touch. I dare not reach out. I dare not ask. I dare not. Not. NOT! (the pencil etches hard into the paper)

All I've wanted for the past few months is just to see her, and now that I do, i just don't know what to do. She questions her memory just as I have questioned mine, and... it seems neither of us knows who we really were or are.

My outburst at her didn't help matters much either. My emotions got the best of me, and yet I don't want to make apologies for it either, well, other than to Branwen for interrupting her. I remember loving her, even if the memories are not that clear. That memory is strong enough that I needed to know that she was okay, that she was as safe as anyone might be in this world. And now that I know...

I do want more, I would like to work towards some relationship with Sydni... but I can live with knowing that's she's okay. I can live with her walking away from me, as long as I know she's safe. I want more, but I will live with her decision, no matter what happens.

No matter how much my heart hurts right now, it's her decision.

Hope is a Four-letter Word

Well, it is. There's no getting around that. I'm starting to think, however, that it's as dirty as any of those 'other' four-letter words. Branwen has her own problems, but she doesn't possess in her heart the hope of truly realizing her dreams. Does she have a chance? I heartily believe she can make a difference; she, however, keeps focusing on what she cannot change herself. She focuses so much on the negative that she, while having a chance, doesn't believe she does.

I cannot blame her, for I would be a hypocrite to think otherwise.

Every beat of my heart, I pray that all will be well, that Sydni will be sane - or can be made so - but I... I don't believe it will be so. Duty, responsibility, fear... these will see me through this week, and probably through the rest of my life.

I had felt this had happened before; that this was not Sydni and mine's first lives, first chances to upset the balance that exists in this world. Brothers... that explains quite a bit. Magisters, that too explains a lot. I picked up the sword partially from wanting to prove to my parents that a daughter could equal a son, then I found the joy in being a swordswoman. But magic... Some spells always came easier to me - the more destructive, the better. The burning rain I set upon the snake village was too easy to do, both magically and morally. And the magic I have been learning lately... I learned a spell that - even if I do not kill the creature - deals permanent damage. What happened to clean kills? It may have taken a while, but I had preferred to kill my prey...

What is happening to me?

What is happening to Sydni?

What will happen?

The Spiral into Madness, or, Abiding the Twin-Damnation: To Fail & Know You Failed

I'm glad Branwen's around.

I don't think I would be sane without her.

Not that I'm much sane right now.

The others have made a few jokes, sideways glances, and questioning looks a few times, wondering exactly what I think of Branwen, what she is to me. I'll admit, for all the holes still in my memory, she has always always reminded me of Sydni. But in the way of a younger sister reminding you of the older, or of a child baring semblance to their parent. She needed no protection from me when we first met, and needs even less of it now, but she let me pretend. I needed that then - the holes were so much larger then, and all I knew was there was someone I should be protecting. Should have protected... but I failed. And now I know how much I failed...

I scared Dorian when I said would kill myself... is it that great a shock? I have a duty to fulfill, a responsibility that must be accomplished but once I am done... I would hope that it need not come to that. That I need not kill Sydni and myself. There just are not that many choices, and I fear that Sydni's choices have been taken from her, leaving the harshest decisions for myself. I hate these snakes; I believe that the others think I hate all snakes, but I only wish to destroy those who would not be the wise serpent. I remember trusting Sydni at my back, to make that quick hard strike, that if it failed, then allowed me the chance to hunt it into the ground.

I fear what the snakes have done to her mind: Sydni was never one much for following the wishes of others, what have they done to have her do so? For I know (I believe, I hope, I fear) she would not wish what they wish. I know what happened in my own mind, how much worse was hers? I had allies soon enough, ones that did not push in any true direction, and Syndi...

I grow angrier and more fearful with each hour that passes. I merely bank that rage building a bonfire of focused fury that should hopefully destroy any which stand in my way. I frightened myself with the destruction of the snake village, but... but. I will carry that offense on my soul, but that which is past is past. The snakes placed themselves in my way, seeking to grab whatever power I house for their own, and this shall not happen, no matter the atrocities I need to commit to make it so.

Branwen's the closest thing I have to a sister - though I think she is more like Sydni than I. Everything I have will go to her if the worst happens. I have asked Ezekiel if he will stay with Branwen and Bertram if I should die, he is still thinking on it. I hope he does; I wish to leave her something that will give her comfort, and protection, and my sword will not stay past my death.

I see the price I may pay for the safety of this world is my death: all I can hope is that Branwen will forgive me.

Right now, I cannot forgive myself for failing.

I Am A: Chaotic Good Half-Elf Ranger Paladin( More details... )

When photographs have faded
And memories grow dimmer
I shall turn to see you in the shadows
And smile, so slight, just that upturn
Close my eyes a moment
Blink away the tears that want to come
Breath deep and let out slow
And breath in again to say your name
Raise a finger to your lips and smile
Wink a little and nod your head
As I nod mine back and smile a little bit more
This time letting the tears fall
No words, just the sound of wind and leaves
Tea roses left on a grave, crimson on green

====
My first entry in a while, and it's grief poetry. Not for any one specific, just playing with characters and storylines, and one of them decided they needed the grave site.

...I think I have it. I haven't had this distinct roll to my stomach since high school, when I constantly nauseated in the mornings due to mold. Damnit. I have things to do this weekend - watch 11 hrs and 40 mins of Wedding Peach, write that review, write another review, study for two tests that take place on Tuesday... and plan a couple of websites.

I don't have time to be sick.

Actually it's for anyone who does knitting or cross-stitching:

KnitPro 2.0 will turn any gif, jpg, or bmp under 1 mb into patterns to use for cross-stitch, crochet, or knitting. Very very cool.

I love my internship! Telecommunications requires all of us to do an internship before we graduate. Luckily, one of my professors runs a game review site, Gamerz Edge *shameless plug*, and it was easy to get an internship there. Very easy in fact, as they needed somebody to help review the anime. Yes, part of my job is to review anime.

Now, most of the time, we receive what are called review or preview copies. They may or may not have all their menus, they may or may not have the extras, they may not even have the Japanese audio available. Hell, the last one I reviewed, UFO UltraMaiden Valkyrie, only had three of the four episodes on it, and the second and third episode only had the English audio. But sometimes, just sometimes, they send the actual real dvd that they will sell.

I'M REVIEWING FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST! *squeeeeeeeeeeeee* Seven volumes! Mine to watch, mine to review, and MINE TO KEEP! Normally, this type of series is one that I would buy a box set of to keep, but I get it free, just because I will review it. *squee* And the dvds are nice... I promise I'll link to the reviews when I finish them, but part of the review is the presentation of the dvd - its menus, the dvd label, the box itself. And FMA looked like they pulled out all the stops on. *squee*

Oh, and I get to review the mangas Monster vol 1 and Hikaru no Go vol 1. Travis got Samurai 7, so I don't get all the goodies. ;-)

EAGLE or HAWK - your daemon may be some kind of
bird of prey. Yours is a strong spirit, and a
fierce sense of liberty. You cannot be
confined. You may be shrewdly observant, and
like to be aware of everything that goes on
around you. You will fight fiercely for the
things that are most important to you, and you
are definitely a force to be reckoned with.
Still, you are not vicious by nature and would
prefer to be left in peace. You probably value
your solitude very highly - not that you don't
enjoy company, but sometimes you just need to
be alone - otherwise you begin to feel caged in
and confined. You might want to take a drive on
your own, just to feel the road beneath you, or
to sit alone on your balcony, watching the
world go by.


What Is Your Daemon?
brought to you by Quizilla

I. I acknowledge that fandom can, has, and will exist without me. I am not important. What I can do, someone else could easily take over. Even if the fandom is tiny, there are probably many more fans of whom I simply have not heard that write/draw/dream things that could blow my mind. Fandom would not fall apart without me.

II. I acknowledge that no matter what I've contributed to it, the fandom owes me absolutely nothing. I will not look for fame, nor will I expect a certain type of treatment from anyone else in the fandom. If people respect me, let them; if people dislike me, let them. I certainly will not threaten to leave and expect anyone to care.

III. I acknowledge that no matter what sort of "credentials" I have in the real world, in fandom, I am merely just another "fan." I might be a published author, a famous artist, or hell, Brad Pitt, but in fandom, if I am not the creator of the canon material, I am merely a follower and I will remember that.

IV. I acknowledge that fandom is a thing created and kept alive by more than one person. People will disagree with me; I will disagree with people. Although I reserve the right to leave the premises or disagree/rant/make snide comments in relative private, I will never flame someone publically or personally for their opinions. If there is discussion in public, it will be civil and I will keep the peace.

V. I acknowledge that there will always be parts of fandom that I dislike; I also acknowledge that there will always be parts of fandom that dislike me; these parts, I will ignore. There will always be people who will never see things my way, no matter what anyone says or does, and there will always be people who keep producing works with which I completely disagree. Again, although I reserve the right to leave the premises or disagree/rant/make snide comments in relative private, I will make no move to actually stop them. They have the right to imagine their versions of characters, just as I have the right to imagine mine.

VI. I acknowledge that, just as fandom owes me nothing, neither do other fans. It doesn't matter who I am; just because I created a community or many people agree with my portrayal of Character A does not give me rights to anything in the fandom. If I receive praise, I will always remember that it is given freely, not due; if I receive criticism, I will take it and remember that criticism, too, is freely given. Regardless of which it is, I will always feel thankful for the time.

VII. I acknowledge that fandom is fandom and how certain people act/how certain people's tastes run in fandom has no relation to them in real life. Although I reserve the right to like or dislike someone based on their OOC/non-fandom-related comments, I will neither judge nor form opinions about someone as a person purely through fandom. Just as slash writers are not always gay and RPers are not always self-inserts, I acknowledge that the fandom-image I know and the real life-person that I do not may be completely different people.

VIII. I acknowledge that there will be other fans that I dislike personally; I also acknowledge that there will be other fans that dislike me personally; these fans, I will ignore. Again, although I reserve the right to leave the premises or  disagree/rant/make snide comments in relative private, I will make no move to actually confront them if they have done no wrong. Being a jerk may have them kicked out of communities and forums, but I will always remember that they have as much right to be in the actual fandom as I do. And I will always remember that I do have that right.

IX. I acknowledge that just as I am in fandom to have fun, other people are in fandom for the exact same reason, and I will remember that. I will never do anything to actively try to stop other people's fun, regardless of how much I may disagree with what they are doing. Clause reserving the right to leave the premises or disagree/rant/make snide comments in relative private still holds here, but I will never tell another fan to stop having fun in whatever way they want to have fun. And I will never pay any attention when someone tells me to stop having fun myself.

X. I acknowledge that just as everyone else is a person, that I am a person, too. No matter what other fans may think of me from what they have seen in fandom, I will never let that persona/image/reputation get in the way of being myself if/when I should communicate with them outside of fandom. If they respect me, I will thank them, and if they dislike me, I will accept it, but these things I will strictly keep in fandom only and will not allow them to interfere with my friendships or real life.

XI. I acknowledge that there are people uninterested in my fandom and I will not press my fandom upon them. I will not speak of certain fandoms to those that have no interest in them, nor will I pressure anyone to look at/read/otherwise be forced to come up with reactions to things that they couldn't care less about. I know that fandoms are very specific things, that being pressured into looking at them is highly uncomfortable, and I will not impose that way upon others.

XII. I acknowledge that, in the end, real life is real life and fandom is only fandom. If fandom begins to affects my real life in negative ways, I will remember that I have the option to simply leave and if it gets bad enough, I will. If I am truly unhappy with a certain fandom or the way a certain fandom is going, I will remember that I have the option of simply creating another community for people who share the same interests as me, or the option of just staying and refusing to go with the flow. I will remember that fandom is a simple trade of time with fun, and that if the fun is not worth the cost, I will remember that I am merely wasting time. Above all else, I will remember that remaining in fandom is an entirely voluntary action.

If you follow this creed, please post it in your journal.

So I just saw that holiday lights decoration - the one set to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra song - on a commercial for Miller Lite. I hope they paid that guy for the use of it...

(to the tune of 10 Little Indians)
Sixteen pandas sitting on the floor...

Okay, when they said a page of dialog equals a minute on screen, I believed them. Then I wrote my own short (4 pages) script, and I went, uh-uh, no way this is going to be even three minutes - the minimum required for the assignment.

I'm now looking at three and a half minutes easy, probably four minutes.

This does not make sense! I mean actions can take up a lot of time... but this still does not make sense!

*goes back to video editing*