Only one more sleep until the weekend, thank heavens!
Bank put a hold on my debit card because it didn't like me sending a present to someone in the UK, and didn't call me about it when I did it, but noooo, at EIGHT IN THE MORNING. (Did I mention that I haven't gotten to bed before 4 in the morning for... I don't know how long now?) I told them that really, I did want to do that, but I dunno if the thing will go through after all. *headdesk*
Spouse had Root Canal Part 1 today. Next week, Part 2. Then after that, Return of the Crown.
Finished That Edit Thing. Did a quickie for someone else on a first-chapter. (But their process is bogged down by going back to rewrite, so it's "put this in the file and don't look back! Run, run! Write like the wind! O;> ) Need to go read other things, too. Maybe in the hotel, I can get some writing done? Grind, grind, grind? Let's hope it's a comfy hotel.
It's YET ANOTHER hotel, as it happens. Not the awesome 2-room + bathroom apartment suite, with kitchenette, nor the second one which was... well, it was a hotel room and I didn't overheat (though I was kinda chilled) underneath the AC unit that spilled frigid air upon me. (Also, that part of the hotel is easily 25+ years old. I'm not too surprised the floor was uneven in spots.) But where was I? Ah, yes. Yet another one. I suspect it's the one-room-two-beds-one-desk arrangement. The one with kitchenettes was full.
It probably has a pool. I should pack a swimsuit. >_>
Or maybe I should just try to write. I need to figure out how someone is gonna spin a suggestion...
Or if I don't do CLB, I should try to get into the right frame of mind to get to a particular scene in DragonSmut(notmuchsmutyet) which has a turn of phrase that should be kind of hawt. *headdesks about this bit of fic that was supposed to be fluffy erotica and developed a plot* Never let the erotica develop a plot. PWP with a plot is direly uneven, it feels. BUT OH WELL, LET'S FINISH IT SOMEDAY.
...cross fingers for me, please.
[AO3-3704] - If a work was styled with a work skin, and a co-creator edited that work later, the skin would be stripped off (...gruesome), requiring another edit by the first creator to tack it back on. Now the work skin stays where it should be at all times.
( INwatch+Bookwatch )
( Dragons under fold )
Rec Category: Crossover (Firefly)
Characters: Rodney McKay, Kaylee
Categories: Crossover, Angst, Dark, Slave, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Off screen death of SGA member and it is Reavers so lots of gore, violence, mutilation, rape, and cannibalism
Author's Website: AO3 or Livejournal
Link: The Monster in the Closet and the sequel
Why This Must Be Read:
Kaylee have been captured by Reavers and barely surviving on their ship. Circumstances are extremely grim. Until one day a new, strange prisoner arrives...
What happens to Kaylee and Rodney is horrific, and it's written from the POV of a Kaylee who has been bludgeoned into becoming matter-of-fact and almost affectless about the horror, though bits of her canon personality still peek through. The way she and Rodney end up escaping the Reavers is a nice ironic twist. (Don't feed Wraith to those who know what they are.) A short but haunting story, which, despite the warnings and grimness, ends on a note of real, sweet hope. It has a sequel that, although it deals with PTSD, offers a happy ending.
( snippet of fic )
Yes, you read it right, that’s “gound.” Justin E. H. Smith’s unsettling… essay? … for The Public Domain Review will explain it. Eventually. It begins (after a brief bit of throat-clearing):
Benno Guerrier von Klopp (1816–1903) was a Baltic German philologist, of French Huguenot origin, who studied at the University of Saint Petersburg and made most of his career as an academician ordinarius, while also spending a good portion of his later career at Jena. Klopp is remembered principally for his contributions to the study of Baltic and Slavic linguistics, not least his 1836 dissertation on the disappearance of the neuter gender in Middle Latvian, and his groundbreaking 1868 study of the morphosyntax of the Old Church Slavonic verbal prefix, vz-.
Significantly less well known is Klopp’s work on the development of the mature philosophical system of Immanuel Kant, a fellow Baltic German who may have been more familiar with the languages and customs of that region than other scholars have detected. In fact, if Klopp is correct, Kant’s first-hand ethnolinguistic researches extend well beyond the Baltic. While Klopp’s 1873 book, Die geheime Sumatrareise Immanuel Kants, is not found in the Library of Congress, or even in the supposedly comprehensive online WorldCat, I have been able to locate a copy of it in at least one place: the library of the faculty of Baltistik at the University of Greifswald in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern.
Don’t miss the footnotes, which include tidbits like “Yakov Brius (also known as Jacob Bruce, 1669-1735), was a Russian statesman and scientist. Like Kant, he was of Scottish ancestry. He conducted astronomical observations from the Sukharev Tower in Moscow. It was rumoured among Muscovites that Brius practiced black magic in the tower.” And hang on to your hat!
Here's the info on my story:
Title: Down the Valley of Elah
Summary: Scott has to rebuild his life on the ashes of his Phoenix possession, the death of the man that was his father in fact if not in blood and the shattering of most relationships he's ever had. Scott is acquitted of the crimes he committed under the influence of the Phoenix. AvX Consequences AU.
Here's an excerpt of the story. It's incredibly rough since I haven't had the change to edit and clean it up:
The apartment was all upper New York lush and plush. From the white: carpets, wrap around sectionals, to the minimalistic metal and glass that was supposed to be the height of fashion but felt cold and impersonal. So unlike the warm oak paneling of the mansion so many years ago. The afghans and throws and quilts thrown over the backs of well worn couches, foot of soft beds and the occasional chandeliers if any of them were feeling particularly creative.
It wasn’t the alien place to Scott. He had spent the greater part of his youth with a billionaire’s son, a chunk of his adult’s life in real alien home-worlds and then with Emma Frost as his lover. But it didn’t fit like a second skin or third skin. Always out of place in the landscape of who Scott Summers was and where he belonged.
It was a familiar feeling. Similar to the one he had after he regained his sight, when the mansion wasn’t just made out of a symphony of sounds and textures. The day he opened his eyes to red tints and dark shades, it was like Alice falling through the rabbit hole. This whole new world where nothing matched and everything was an askew vision of the images in his head.
So no, here in the very pinnacle of luxury that New York city had to offer, Scott Summers didn’t feel out of place so much as a man coming into sunlight after years underground. Blotches of black dancing in his eyes and everything too bright and dark by turns.
He stood at the threshold and couldn’t make himself take those first real steps into a new life. And that was it, wasn’t it? New life, new beginnings.
A new start.
Somehow unfair, really. How easily everything seemed to come and go. How often he was forced to pick up the pieces and start over again. To rebuild: the school, the dream, a mutant safe-haven, broken relationships, life. And shouldn’t there be a rule about that? A kind of limit to the times you got to watch your entire life burn down, of having to start all over again?
That would be a good number. A decent number. Instead of this never ending cycle he seemed to be trapped in. That futility of purpose that never reached its mark and always, always ended in failure. Like Sisyphus, cursed to roll a boulder up a hill over and over again. Knowing that no matter how close he came to the summit, he would never, ever reach it.
He stood there in arrested indecision, wondering, not for the first time, if he had it in him for another new start. Once more unto the breach. Somehow the thought left him feeling tired and older than his twenty seven years.
A heavy weight settled on his shoulders as he peered into the room. There was a crowd there. To celebrate. As if any of what had happened was cause for anything but a funerary progression. Scott certainly felt like something inside was decaying. The rot spreading inwards and outwards towards anyone and everyone that he came into contact with.
Why couldn’t you just have left it alone? He thought not for the first time at Matt Murdock, who stood to his left, like he had since day one. Matt, who was an Avenger on occasion and a vigilante always. Lawyer to the destitute and disenfranchised and thought that Scott was worthy of his time and effort. Scott wanted to hate him and some days he thought the man was every bit the demon he masquerade about.
Please join me to give a huge TDK welcome to our Star Kit for today, Irma Bell. She is an 8 week old Calico from Leesburg, Georgia.
Irma Bell was brought to me during the hurricane Irma storm. Some people said they found her on their steps. They also said the mom had left her but I believe they got her and didn’t want her anymore. I like to think its was Gods gift to me because the animal shelter is right next door to the office I was at when they brought her in.
( Day 1-14 )
Day 15 on DW: auroracloud, cornerofmadness, esteliel, fangirlishness, navaan, shopfront, sylvanwitch, tinx_r, trobadora, ysilme (10/12)
Day 16 on DW: auroracloud, esteliel, fangirlishness, miss_morland, navaan, shopfront, sylvanwitch, trobadora, ysilme (9/12)
Day 17 on DW: auroracloud, cornerofmadness, esteliel, fangirlishness, miss_morland, navaan, shopfront, sylvanwitch, trobadora, ysilme (10/12)
Day 18 on DW: auroracloud, cornerofmadness, esteliel, shopfront, sylvanwitch, trobadora, ysilme (7/12)
Let me know if I missed you or if you didn't check in for a while, so I can add you. Of course joining the fun is possible at any point.