Kat

Journey's End Reaction Post

Sun, 06 Jul 2008 03:15:56 GMT

Wow. Just... wow. Rusty is forgiven LoTTL.

In order of various levels of fangirling!

Sarah Jane! She got her badass back! I heartily approve. Needed moar Luke (I should have liked him to help save the world; he's quite good at that) but what little there was of him was excellent. Also, "It's a long story." I'll bet. Needed moar Sarah Jane/Jack, too, but I approve of what was there.

WAAAAAH DONNA. Oh, Donna. You will be so missed, dear heart. Don't worry, though, Torchwood and UNIT and Sarah Jane, they've got your back. Oh, darling. At least you went out with a hell of a bang.

Is it just me or are Martha and Mickey working for Torchwood now?

About the second Ten: Rusty nicked that idea off honorh's Seed Pearls. Trufax.

DoctorDonna was win. In so many ways and on so many levels.

Cheer up, emo Doctor! Go get an explanation for that brown-haired, very clever, socially inept, suspiciously-resembling-you boy before Sarah Jane decides to fuck with your head a bit.

Oh wow. Rusty is so forgiven. Wow.

Fic: The Dalek Invasion of Discworld

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 23:19:43 GMT

Title: The Dalek Invasion of Discworld
Author: TigerKat24
Rating: PG-13 for some swearing.
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin. Beta'd by the lovely Priscellie.
Disclaimer: I own neither Daleks nor Discworld.

There is a turtle swimming through space, with four giant elephants and a flat disc of a world balanced carefully atop its meteor-pocked shell. That’s no less believable than a police box travelling through time and space.

The police box is nowhere near this universe, anyway.

A saucer was. It was shaped vaguely like a donut with windows. Inside, the most feared enemy of the Time Lords prepared to invade as their ship approached the turtle: a terrifying sight, sure to spark fear in the heart of any sensible being.

No one ever accused the Discworld’s inhabitants of being sensible.

--

Samuel Vimes was not having a good day.

"Oh, come on!" he shouted at the skies. "Vampires who don't drink blood, golems that own themselves, fine, but homicidal pepperpots? Seriously?"

Nobody responded. Bastards.

Vimes kicked the pepperpot that Sybil’s dragons had roasted, bruised his toe, and had to hop around swearing for a bit. Solid metal. He’d never seen anything made of metal that could talk. Must be something the wizards had made; he’d send up a nasty letter in the morning.

Still swearing, he headed into the city. Time to rally the Watch and “exterminate” the rest of them.

--

Archchancellor Ridcully stalked back into his study in a vicious temper. He’d received three death threats and a pointed note from the Patrician, enough to annoy any man who didn’t deserve them.

He glared at the hastily-drawn circle, which contained something resembling a tankard designed by Bloody Stupid Johnson.

“All right!” he bellowed at it. “What are you?”

The thing, already incensed, practically vibrated with rage.

“DALEKS DO NOT ANSWER QUESTIONS! EXTERMINATE!” A line of scorching light burned through the wall where Ridcully’s head had been a moment before.

The Archchancellor snapped his fingers.

He’d been needing a footstool anyway.

--

“Dungeon dimensions?” Nanny asked, nibbling an apple.

Creak, creak, went Granny’s rocking chair. “What else could they be?”

“The Gentry,” Nanny opined.

Granny shook her head. “’S metal. The Gentry don’t like metal.”

Nanny picked thoughtfully at her teeth, then grinned. “They looks like ton—“

“Gytha Ogg!”

Nanny rolled her eyes. “You don’t know what I was goin’ to say, Esme.”

“I don’t need to,” Granny snapped. Creak, creak.

“Be like that,” Nanny said, without heat, and settled back.

Metal shrieked on rock as the last of the invaders, backing frantically away from Greebo, failed to see the cliff.

--

Rincewind opened his eyes, whimpered, closed his eyes, and tried to wake up.

Sadly, the thing looming over him was still there when he opened his eyes again.

“Gurk,” remarked Rincewind.

“IDENTIFY!” the thing shrilled, pointing a stick attached to its front at Rincewind.

Behind it, the Luggage groaned to its feet. The thing turned, and a leap of blue fire shot from the stick.

When the chaos died down, Rincewind was a distant, fading blur. The Luggage, lid slightly scorched, glared at the ex-thing’s compatriots, who made a concentrated effort to look innocent while scooting away.

The Luggage charged.

--

“EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!”

Death watched the metal thing wave its stick-weapon at him with mild curiousity. It was the sixth one today that he had collected personally, and thousands more were dying all across the Disc. An invasion, he thought, that the inhabitants had taken in typical stride.

“EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!”

Death was not quite sure how to handle this. Normally the people he collected understood. This was complicated.

“WHAT ARE YOU?” the thing asked, at last, panic evident in its tone.

DEATH, Death said. WHAT ARE YOU?

“DALEKS DO NOT KNOW DEATH!” the thing wailed. “EXTERMINATE!”

OH, YES, Death said. PRECISELY.

--

This is a turtle, swimming through space. The world atop the turtle was wracked with sparks and shouts a moment ago, but everything seems to have calmed down.

The saucer lifts off from the Hub, a few desultory lightning bolts flung after it by bored gods. It is much lighter rising than landing, and as soon as it is away, it blasts for deep space.

Vimes has lots of paperwork. Ridcully has some new furniture. Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg have an afternoon’s entertainment. The Luggage has lunch.

The Daleks have a cautionary tale. Narrative causality.

The turtle swims on.

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 00:30:54 GMT

I hate this time of month. Either I'm in so much pain that I can't function (and can't eat due to nausea because it hurts so much; that's a charming new development), or I'm dizzy and flaky from the medication that keeps the pain away, and can't function. I swear to God, if they make me jump through one more hoop to get on birth control, I am going to break down in tears.

Why Don't I Have a Books! Icon?

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 19:31:21 GMT

This is inspired by the Big Read meme going around that prompts people to select 'classic' books from a list that they have read. With that in mind, I'd like you to list the ten books that have had the most influence on YOU, personally. It doesn't matter whether or not they're classics, adult books or YA. This meme is not asking you to be a literary critic. These are the books that have made an impression on you, that stay in your mind, that have had an impact on your life. The books that taught you how to write, that molded your ideas about life and love. The books that you *always* have a copy of on your bookshelf, and invariably read until the binding is falling apart.

1) The Fire Rose, Mercedes Lackey
Lackey has a way with language that always strikes me, even when she's writing about certain Mary Sues I could name (Vanyel, anyone?). She's splendid with description, and even when her plots fall flat, which this one doesn't, the language carries the day. I also love Beauty and the Beast, and this reinterpretation of the legend has the benefit of being impeccably-researched historical fiction as well.

2) Persuasion, Jane Austen
Guh. Just guh. One of the best love stories ever, and a wonderful, wonderful book. Jane Austen makes some of the most memorable characters I have ever read. A pitch-perfect romance.

3) Proven Guilty, Jim Butcher
Plot! Jim Butcher teaches me about Plot! Proven Guilty has the added benefit of just being fun.

4) American Gods, Neil Gaiman
Likewise plot. Neil Gaiman weaves everything together skillfully and near-seamlessly. I will admit to having problems buying the climax, but I'm just too in love with his concept and execution that I simply can't care.

5) His Majesty's Dragon, Naomi Novik
WOW. Amazing language, great plot, a climax that never fails to make me tear up, wonderful characters, just wow. Seamlessly weaves dragons into British history. This is precisely how the Napoleonic wars would have gone had Napoleon in fact had dragons to deploy.

6) Magic and Malice, Patricia C. Wrede
See above. Wow. Also has a wonderful love story that His Majesty's Dragon doesn't. Both take place in the Regency; a coincidence? I THINK NOT. So does Persuasion. I'm terribly fond of the Regency, so having so many of my favorite novels take place there is a bonus.

7) Crown Duel, Sherwood Smith
Some of the best damned worldbuilding since Tolkein. Tolkein and I don't really get along for various wordy-related reasons, but Crown Duel is so wonderfully written and just right with the world.

8) Matilda, Roald Dahl
Roald Dahl is a master storyteller, and Matilda is my favorite story of his. A bright little girl and the people who believe her, the people who don't, and her revenge on the idiots of the world. Clearly Roald Dahl was at some point a bright little kid, because this book resonates with me so much. Hands up, who else tried to move chalk with their eyes after seeing this?

9) A Little Princess, Frances Hodgson Burnett
I don't know. I love Sara, I love Becky, I love the coincidences, I love Miss Minchen and Amelia Minchen, I love the whole book. It's just so well done and such a childhood memory. Maybe that's it. Either way, the binding on mine is kind of dead.

10) The Killer Angels, Michael Shaara
Oh, Michael Shaara. A heartbreaking story of Gettysburg. The language is exactly right for the time. The men he's writing about are so right for their time and yes. Amazing story.

Doctor Who 4.12

Sun, 29 Jun 2008 02:19:55 GMT

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD YOU GUYS.

In order of squeeing.

HARRIET JONES, MADE OF WIN. Yes? Yes. She looked so beautiful, and her last line, oh, it was just a punch to the gut. God bless you, Harriet Jones. You will live on in fanfiction.

SARAH JANE SMITH. CAN I GET A HELL YES. She and Luke were just so cute in this. Such good acting from both of them. Their body language all the way through was completely mum-and-son, and she was so protective of him and he was so protective of her and that "I love you" scene made me sniffle. So beautiful. Though if Sarah Jane could remember that she has the sonic lipstick, that would be preferable to, y'know, dying.

Martha Fucking Jones is the most badass woman alive and the line to kiss her feet starts over there. That is all.

Jack Harkness! Oh, Jack. I'm so glad you remembered how to act again. You and your kids and the look you gave them when they were commenting on the Doctor and the flirting with Sarah Jane and the sudden Donna/Jack ship forming and oh. Oh wow. Also, Jack, I realize that BFGs are a fad in this episode, but do you really have to have two? I think we all realize that you have nothing to compensate for.

ROSE. YES. ROSE. YES. WOW. RTD, THAT IS GOOD ROSE. GOOD BOY. BISCUIT FOR YOU.

WILF! I love Wilf. Have I mentioned that I love Wilf? Because I do. "Wanna swap?" YES.

"Where the hell have you been?" YES. Dialogue in this was amazing.

In short, OMG. I haven't had a squee-fit like this since Parting of the Ways. Now if only RTD remembers how to do finales and doesn't pull a Last of the Time Lords... *knockonwood*

I need a Harriet Jones: Made Of Win icon.

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 23:39:31 GMT

I ate'nt dead, just ate by travelling. We'll talk tomorrow, my darlings. <3
*snore*

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 22:07:36 GMT

SARAH JANE.

SARAH JANE AND LUKE.

SARAH JANE AND LUKE AND TORCHWOOD.

SARAH JANE AND LUKE AND TORCHWOOD AND DONNA.

SARAH JANE AND LUKE AND TORCHWOOD AND DONNA AND ROSE AND MICKEY AND JACKIE AND MARTHA AND SARAH JANE.

HOMG this finale is going to be awesome. RTD is going out with a bang.

More things.

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 19:25:07 GMT

1) Started up a wishlist on Amazon, to make birthdays easier, but mostly for my own remind, since it seems my family generally pays more attention to what they'd like to recieve than what I'd like to recieve when buying presents for me.

2) Going into Amsterdam tomorrow to see the Anne Frank house and possibly Remembrant's house. We'll see.

3) Both impressed and disappointed with my FG players. Impressed, because I threatened people and got a sudden flood of posts. Disappointed because nothing's happened since. But the flood! The flood is good.

4) Have still not seen either Forest of the Dead or Midnight. Intend to do so tomorrow when I get back from Amsterdam.

5) Note to self: read Serpent's Shadow when I get home.

6) Note to self #2: type up list of books-read for May and mini-reviews.

7) Overall, feeling rather ambivalent at the moment. Utrecht and by extension the Netherlands are beautiful and awesome, and I am so glad I came. I just rather wish that I was here by myself as opposed to with my mother. Ah well. Can't have everything.

Several Things

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 15:00:08 GMT

I'm in Utrecht, which is beautiful. I spent all of today and most of yesterday just walking around the city (and bought a horse for the collection, natch). Tomorrow I will either go into Amsterdam, to the Remembrant museum and the Anne Frank House, or spend yet more time in Utrecht. I'd like to take a tour of the Dom tower, as I simply didn't have energy for it today, and of the Museum of Catherjineconvent, which isn't open on Mondays, and Mom and I both wanted to do a canal tour. This city is really gorgeous.

On a happy yet slightly bizarre note, my cousin Elise had her baby yesterday. Hailey Ruth Parker, June 15th. Welcome to the world, kiddo. Good luck.

It's bizarre, because Elise isn't more than three years older than me, and her sister EJ not more than two years, and both of them have children now. And here I am, quite happily single and childless, and fully intending to remain so for the rest of my life. Very strange feeling.

My love to everyone at home.

Fanmix: Shiptease!

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 20:52:41 GMT

Medium: TV
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Subject: Ships
Title: Shiptease!
Notes: We all know that Mike and Bryan like to taunt the shippers. Here’s a song for every couple ever given some sort of onscreen encouragement.
That’s right. Every. Couple. And a few extras.
We’re in for a long haul, folks.

Warnings: SPOILERS up to Boiling Rock. Silliness. No explication because it’s just too damn long, though there are explanatory notes when I feel that they’re needed. Picture, tracklist and zip behind the cut.

zip link

Katara/Aang—I Want You To Want Me, Cheap Trick

I want you to want me.
I need you to need me.
I’d love you to love me.
I’m begging you to beg me.

Katara/Zuko—Are You Happy Now, Michelle Branch
(Katara’s POV, post-book 2 finale, pre-Firebending Masters)

Could you look me in the eye,
and tell me that you're happy now oooooh.
Would you tell it to my face or have I been erased,
Are you happy now?
Are you happy now?

Katara/Haru—If I Told You, The Wedding Singer

If I told you
All the words I've yet to say
Would they matter
Or would you simply turn and walk away
If I hold you
Would you tell me I should go
Do I chance it
Or would it just be better not to know

Katara/Jet—Trash the Rental, Soho Dolls
(Jet’s POV)

What's driving me is driving you.
Born from the same race, from the same blue.
You try to resist, you try to resist,
But I tell you, tell you, tell you, tell you,
You're gonna stay.

Aang/Toph—Still There For Me, Corbin Bleu
(It’s arguable whose POV this is from. I leave it up to you.)

Even when I'm not giving enough
And I'm taking too much
You're still there for me
Even when I got nothing at all
And I'm ready to fall
You're still there for me

Sokka/Toph—Can’t Help Falling In Love, Elvis

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can’t help falling in love with you

Sokka/Yue—If I Never Knew You, Jon Secada and Shanice

I'm so grateful to you
I'd have lived my whole life through
Lost forever
If I never knew you

Sokka/Suki—Kiss the Girl, Little Mermaid (m4a)
(Circa The Serpent’s Pass, clearly)

Sha-la-la-la-la-la
My, oh, my, look at the boy too shy
He ain’t gonna kiss the girl
Sha-la-la-la-la-la
Ain’t that sad, ain’t it shame, too bad
You gonna miss the girl

Zuko/Mai—And So It Goes, Billy Joel

But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break

Hakoda/Bato—You and Me, Plain White Ts (m4a)

You and me, we like the same kind of music
That's why we, make a good you and me
We got style, baby we know how to use it
That's why we, make a good you and me

Roku/Sozin—Bring on the Wonder, Susan Enan

I can't see the stars anymore, living here
Let’s go to the hills where the outlines are clear
Bring on the wonder
Bring on the song
I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long

Azula/Mai—Caring is Creepy, the Shins

Hold your glass up, hold it in
Never betray the way you've always known it is.
One day I'll be wondering how
I got so old just wondering how
I never got cold wearing nothing in the snow.

Azula/Ty Lee—You Belong to Me, Jason Wade (m4a)

See the pyramids around the Nile
Watch the sun rise from the tropic isle
Just remember darling all the while
You belong to me

Mai/Ty Lee—Eric’s Song, Vienna Teng (m4a)

Strange how I fit into you
There's a distance erased with the greatest of ease
Strange how you fit into me
A gentle warmth filling the deepest of needs

Pakku/Kanna—Both Hands, Ani DiFranco

and both hands, now use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried

Aang/Zuko—Don’t Ask Me, Ok Go

Quit acting so friendly.
Don't nod don't laugh all nicely.
Don't think you'll up-end me.
Don't sigh, don't sip your iced-tea.
And don't say, 'It's been a while...'
And don't flash that stupid smile.

Sokka/Aang—If I Were Gay, Stephen Lynch

‘Cause if I were gay, I would give you my soul
and if I were gay I would give you my whole... being
and if I were gay, we would tear down the walls
But I'm not gay, so won’t you stop cupping my hand

Sokka/Zuko—You’re Nothing Without Me, John Barrowman

A show off, a blowhard
You're equal parts hot air and gall
And no one would doubt me
Without me you're nothing at all

Zuko/Song—Chocolate, Snow Patrol

What have I done? It's too late for that
What have I become? Truth is nothing yet
A simple mistake starts the hardest time
I promise I'll do anything you ask...this time

Zuko/Jin—Ripe, Ben Lee (m4a)

So for once in my life, I saw what I wanted and took a bite.
I picked the fruit from the tree and it was ripe.

Sokka/Ty Lee—Things I’ll Never Say, Avril Lavigne

If I could say what I want to see
I want to see you go down on one knee
Marry me today
Guess I'm wishing my life away
With these things I'll never say

Sokka/Mai—She’s Always a Woman, Billy Joel

She can lead you to live
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe you
And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free
She steals like a thief
But she's always a woman to me

Katara/Ty Lee—If I Fell, Evan Rachel Wood

If I give my heart to you
I must be sure
From the very start
That you would love me more than her

Katara/Mai—I Feel Everything, Idina Menzel

When you're furious
When you start to freeze
When you can't be touched
I feel everything

Katara/Azula—Fuck Was I, Jenny Owen Youngs

Skillet on the stove
It's such a temptation
Maybe I'll be the lucky one that doesn't get burnt
What the fuck was I thinking?

Azula/Suki—Favorite Girl, Joseph Arthur

In your version of this world
you're everybody's favorite girl
but that don't mean I'll be the victim
of any pain you are inflicting today

Aang/Meng—Don’t Go Breaking My Heart, Elton John

Don't go breaking my heart
I couldn't if I tried
Honey if I get restless
Baby you're not that kind

Azula/Zuko—Stand Up, Trapt

Why don't you let me be
Leave me alone
You start a fire inside that I could never control
You wanna see a reaction

Sokka/Azula—Filthy/Gorgeous, Scissor Sisters (m4a)
(Again, I leave it up to you whose POV this is from.)

Cuz you're filthy (filthy)
Oooh, and I'm gorgeous (gorgeous)
Cuz you're filthy (filthy)
Oooh, and I'm gorgeous (gorgeous)

Zuko/Jun—Portions for Foxes, Rilo Kelly

And it's bad news
Baby I'm bad news
I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news

Iroh/Jun—You’re So Damn Hot, ok go

You don't love me at all, but don't think that it bothers me at all.
You're a bad-hearted boy-trap, babydoll, but you're...
You're so damn hot.

Iroh/Ming—Dante’s Prayer, Loreena McKennitt

When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Longshot/Smellerbee—Stolen, Dashboard Confessional

Before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced
Another sun soaked season fades away
You have stolen my heart
You have stolen my heart

Suki/Ty Lee—This Town is Wrong, the Nields (m4a)
(I maintain that this is a love song.)

They want you to have long hair, short skirts, clear skin, nothing hurts
Following their every rule
Why don't you make the rules?
Why don't you make the rules?

Suki/Mai—If I Told You, Idina Menzel

Cause I'm shedding my skin
So you can see my face,
I need you to know who I am.
I'm ready to go where I've never been,
Will you stay around and follow me?

Cabbage Man/Cabbages—I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts, Monty Python
(Replace coconuts with cabbages, and this is kind of insanely right. It even scans!)

Hoi've got a lo-ve-ly bunch o' coconuts.
There they are a-standin' in a row.
Big ones, small ones, some as big as yer 'ead!

Bonus Songs
(These are noncanon ships that I personally favor. I just threw them on for the heck of it.)

Song/Kuei—Better Man, James Morrison
(Largely based off a fanfiction by my very dear friend Dark Puck)

There was a time
I had nothing to give
I needed shelter from the storm i was in
And when it all got too heavy
You carried my weight
And I want to hold you

Haru/Ty Lee—Are You Gonna Be My Girl? Jet

So 1, 2, 3, take my hand and come with me
because you look so fine
and I really wanna make you mine.
I say you look so fine
that I really wanna make you mine.

Hakoda/Ursa—All I Have To Give, Backstreet Boys (m4a)
(I admit it; the grammatical errors in this song make me twitch. But the sentiment is right.)

But my love is all I have to give
Without you I don't think I can live
I wish I could give the world to you...but
Love is all I have to give

Piandao/Ursa—Ain’t No Other Man, Christina Aguilera
(I swear this makes sense in my head.)

Ain't no other man, can stand up next to you
Ain't no other man on the planet does what you do
(what you do).
You're the kinda guy, a girl finds in a blue moon.
You got soul, you got class.
You got style with your bad ass - oh yeah!

Meme!

Thu, 05 Jun 2008 17:34:35 GMT

Go here and refresh until you get five quotes that resonate with you, then put them up in your journal.

It really doesn't matter if the person who hurt you deserves to be forgiven. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. You have things to do and you want to move on.
Real Live Preacher, RealLivePreacher.com Weblog, July 7, 2003

Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.
Abraham Lincoln (1809 - 1865)

'Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and have her nonsense respected.
Charles Lamb (1775 - 1834)

One kernel is felt in a hogshead; one drop of water helps to swell the ocean; a spark of fire help to give light to the world. None are too small, too feeble, too poor to be of service. Think of this and act.
Hannah More

We have enough religion to hate each other, but not enough to love each other.
Jonathan Swift (1667 - 1745)

ETA: And another! Nicked off eponymous_rose who nicked it off someone else.

I feel like writing meta, but I'm entirely too tired lazy to pick a single subject and coherently analyse it.

SO. Throw a fannish topic at me, and I will ramble about it! Hopefully in an entertaining way.

Good Times

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 22:09:38 GMT

The good times started Sunday. I expect they'll continue until next Tuesday. But for those of you playing along at home:

1) Morning shift, on which I got reacquainted with the horses, snuggled with Cari, washed a lot of fans and got permission to use my boss as a reference. Not much awesome here apart from snuggling with Cari, which is always amazing.

2) Herndon Festival! Went with my dad, which is always nice, as I don't get to spend enough time with him. I got a fan with my name on it in Chinese characters (transliterated, obviously), a lot of free brochures and candy, a pencil, a couple of notepads, a balloon, and a bottle of water all for free. Festivals are fun that way; if you look in the right place, there's a lot of stuff that won't cost a penny. I also got to ride the Ferris Wheel, though not with my dad, the chicken. Above all, a very good time, even if it rained on the way back.

3) Evening shift! I love evening shift. I get to play with the horses more, it's shorter so I don't get as tired, I love the girl I share it with, and there's nobody around to get in my way. But the best part? Sue (my boss) came over and told me I was one of her best employees. She said I was reliable, competent and clever, flexible, and above all one of the best barn hands they have working. She said I could have as many hours as I want, and that she's probably going to give me a raise. Surprisingly, given my brokeness, I am most excited about the compliment. Sue used to be my trainer, you see. If she tells me I'm doing well, she means it. I don't doubt that the compliment was prompted by her mistaken impression that I'm going to quit, which is silly, I mean, why would I quit when they pay me to play with horses? But that doesn't mean she doesn't mean it.

4) Sonogram today. That was just neat. I got to see my uterus and ovaries, and discovered that no, I don't have ovarian cysts or cancer of any sort. My cramps are genetic. This means I will probably get birth control, and thus will lose the cramps, the ouchy breasts, and most of my acne. *crosses fingers*

That's all that happened. To come! Dinners with Daddy, zillions more evening shifts, KATIE, exploring DC with Katie, spending time with El and Sarah at Faire, Artspeak!, a clean room, hopefully progress on my projects, good books, good music, fun times, and Amsterdam and Munich. This summer is starting out very well indeed.

Sat, 31 May 2008 22:12:43 GMT

I have the too-few-bookshelves problem again. I'm trying to shuffle things around to make it work, but it may not work out, which means there may be another booksale in the near future. Keep an eye on this space.

In other news, I'm off to my dad's house soon for dinner and a brief birthday party (I think), then home to game and watch the new Doctor Who, then to bed since I have work at an ungodly hour tomorrow. Then, cleaning, cleaning, and more cleaning to try and get my room ready for Katie's visit, along with the sonogram. That'll be fun. Thus far, I have two shelves of horses washed, my bed made, and the floor about three-quarters clean. This is actually major progress.

Moving stuff around may have to wait for July, though. It is lovely and comforting to turn my head in the morning and see nothing but lots and lots of books.

Game-people, if you're checking this, I should be back by nine at the absolute latest. If I'm not back by then, feel free to text me.

Wed, 28 May 2008 15:56:30 GMT

So... I'm here again. Sorry about the long delay. Have some miscallaneous observations.

1) I really love my Proudian class, and I really love my professor. We all pitched in and bought each other donuts and apple juice for the last day of class. *sniff* I'm gonna miss them all until I see them again senior year. Except for Sami who I will see next fall. HI SAMI ILU.

2) Airplanes, conversely, suck. Thanks to some nasty weather in Phoenix I ended up getting stuck overnight in Chicago and coming damned close to having a panic attack. What is it about travel that makes me so goddamned nervous?

3) My mom is made of awesome and win. This is why. (That's a cake.)

4) Rehobeth was awesome, despite my getting sick at the end. I ate good food, had good company, went in the hot tub ridiculously late, jammed in the back seat with three other girls, listened to a Dramatic Reading of a romance novel sex scene, came home with entirely too many small plastic horses (or glass, one was glass), got free Coldstones on my birthday, and generally had an excellent time.

5) Did I mention that I love my mom? I bemoaned to her that I'd gotten blood all over my favorite pink pajamas, so she bought me pink pajamas for my birthday. ^.^ Also a whole lot of other stuff including books, a couple of nifty headbands, and some sweet pink shoes, but I'm really in love with the pajamas. Also her card made me cry.

6) Awkwardness sucks. So does hurt. Thankfully the boy and I have decided to get over it by sheer willpower, because he's a wonderful person.
If you don't know what this is about, ask me.

7) Freaking drama on my friendslist. Sheesh. It's not even funny drama, and someone used "gay" as a derogatory term.

8) I have work! Huzzah!

9) Seven days until Katie gets here! Yay! (also, seven days....)

10) I am definitely going up to stalk Pris late this July, though whether anyone will be coming with me is still up for debate. I am also definitely going to Amsterdam and the Lion King. I will try to go see Good at Elden Street Theater and Ragtime at the Kennedy Center. Might also go to the VA Renaissance Faire (hey, Katie, want to go? Spotsylvania's about an hour and a half away, but admissions is only seven bucks).

In conclusion, you guys are all awesome in many varied ways, especially for putting up with me during this rollercoaster of a week. I LOVE YOU.

Stress. ARGH.

Thu, 22 May 2008 05:17:55 GMT

Nearly done. I've been very, very busy, hence the sudden disappearance (sorry, guys! Pris, email me your fic and I will beta it to the best of my ability, and we'll talk tomorrow night probably). My room is packed, my books and the hobbyhorse are shipped (and wasn't that a bitch and a half, story later). Myranda said that Sami and I could use her 'fridge next fall so as to keep life sorted. I've got all my evals done. All I need to do is finish my observation paper, my outline, and my bibliography entries, then present them tomorrow, and I'm done. ALMOST THERE.
*augh!*
At least finaleclipse freaking started up again. FG should take a leaf from its book and do the same thing. Hint. Hint. Brick.

Fic: A Modest Proposal

Sun, 18 May 2008 22:23:26 GMT

Title: A Modest Proposal
Author: TigerKat24
Rating: PG-13 shading into R
Summary: Harry really does have some spectacularly bad timing.
Notes: Written because of the dresdenficathon. Con your beta: ask me how! Many thanks to my darling Pris for her betaing and title suggestion. Also, written for 100moods, Harry/Murphy, 035, Enraged.

I freely admit that I have a really bad sense of timing when it comes to women.

I can’t blame it on lack of experience. I’ve known plenty of women, in my time, and I never get better at it. I can’t even blame it on being a man (one word: Thomas). It probably has something to do with my usual obliviousness when it comes to the fairer sex, but even that can’t be totally responsible. The worst part is, I usually don’t even know when I’ve timed something wrong.

The good thing about dating Murphy is that she never fails to let me know. Loudly. With thrown objects.

I ducked the cushion she’d just hurled in my direction and asked, as innocently as possible, “So was this a bad time to propose?”

The next pillow, accompanied by a scream of frustration, nailed me right in the gut. “You idiot, do you ever listen to anything I say?” Murphy dug her hands into her hair and pulled, like she does when she’s more than usually annoyed with me. At least she wasn’t throwing any more pillows.

“Always!” I protested. “The thing is you have to actually say it, Murph. My telepathy is rusty.”

“I did say it, you…oh, forget it!” She threw her hands up, then whirled and marched off towards my bedroom.

My bedroom. If she got in there, she was going to slam the door and probably leave me sleeping on my couch, which is incredibly unfair considering both that my couch is way too short for someone like me to sleep on, and that I’d had plans for that bed tonight that involved me being in it.

“Hey!” I got between her and the door by virtue of longer legs and put my hands on my hips. “Hold on a second. Before you lock me out, at least explain why I’m being locked out of my own bedroom?”

Murphy glared at me. “You! You’re why you’re being locked out! Move!”

“You could,” I pointed out, in what I thought was a very reasonable manner, “go home and lock me out much more effectively there.”

She inhaled, closed her eyes, and rocked back onto her heels, settling into a relaxed, deadly stance that usually meant pain for anyone in her way. Probably not for me, though; these days Murphy only hurts me when I ask her to.

Scrub that mental image out of your head. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

“No,” Murphy said, eventually, in a deadly calm tone. “I cannot go home. Do you want to know why? Because yesterday evening I discovered that the water main on my street has broken and flooded my basement. Nobody else’s basement, mind you. Just my basement, and the street in front of my house. Because the gods clearly hate me.”

“Yep,” I said. She opened her eyes and gave me a glare that by all rights should have incinerated me on the spot. “What? I’m only agreeing with you.”

“You,” Murphy said, “do not get women. I was up all night, Harry. I did not get any sleep at all. This, on top of having cramps totally out of the blue, a full day’s work complete with departmental evaluation in which my relationship with you caused me a whole lot more trouble than I deserved, and my goddamn sister calling to ask why I hadn’t wished her a happy anniversary. As if she needed to ask.”

I winced. “Ah. I see. Um.”

“And then!” Murphy was apparently just getting started. “You! I walk in here hoping for a backrub and a nap—since it’s too much to hope for a hot shower with you around—and you decide to go and propose! Goddamnit, Harry!”

“Hey! It’s not my fault!” I said, beginning to get angry myself. Okay, so, yeah, I could have had better timing, but was wanting to marry her really that insulting? “I love you, I want to marry you. I realize you had a shitty day, but ordinarily knowing that would make a woman happy!”

Murphy crossed her arms. “Oh, so now I’m not feminine enough for you?”

I blinked. What? “How the hell did you get that from what I said?”

“As if you don’t know!”

I hate that answer. I hate that answer so very much. “Would you mind making a map of your mind for me? There’s all sorts of bizarre twists and cul-de-sacs! I get lost so often.”

“Yes!” Murphy shouted. “Because you don’t think! You just charge straight ahead and damn the torpedos because you’re always fucking right!”

“What else am I supposed to think?” I yelled back. “You don’t tell me anything, you just snap at me when I screw up!”

“If I yelled at you every damn time you screwed up, I’d be pretty goddamn hoarse by now!” she yelled. “If you’d just listen…”

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. “Well, if that’s the way you feel, then you’d better just say no and put me out of my misery.”

“Fine!” Murphy snarled.

“Good!” I snapped right back.

“Yes!” she screamed.

I blinked. “What?”

Murphy glared up at me, her hair tousled and her eyes bright and her cheeks pink, so angry I should wilt and so beautiful I could cry, and spat, “Yes, I’ll marry you, you stupid son of a bitch!”

We stared at each other for a moment. I noticed with sudden clarity that she was breathing hard, and that it made her breasts move in some very interesting ways.

Then Murphy threw herself at me, dragged my head down to hers, and kissed me hard enough to knock my head back into my bedroom door, which flew open and deposited me on the floor of my bedroom with her on top of me.

We never actually made it to the bed.

Afterwards, I ran my hand down the long, smooth line of her back. “Feeling better?”

She stretched languidly (creating some very interesting friction), and said, “Much, thank you. How about you? That was a pretty bad fall you took.”

“I’m more worried about the rugburn,” I said. “So. Um. Sorry. I take it that was some bad timing.”

“Astronomically,” Murphy said, “but then, I’ve gotten used to it from you.”

I tilted my head up to look her in the eye for a second. “Forgive me, then?”

“Of course.” She leaned up and kissed me. “Besides, you look so silly on one knee. I’d hate to have to make you do it again to apologize.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “I note you don’t say I look silly kneeling in general.”

Murphy gave me a horrified look. “Why on earth would I say that? Besides, when you’re kneeling, I’ve usually got better things to do than look at you. Like scream.”

“Oh?” I cupped her bottom and squeezed, and did indeed get a scream and a thump. Not a very hard one, though. I guess I was forgiven. She kissed the shoulder she’d hit, anyway.

I waited another few moments for the mood to settle before I said, tentatively, “You know, for a moment there, I really thought you were going to say no. Broke my heart.”

Murphy glanced sharply up at me, and I knew she’d heard the little trickle of hurt beneath my casual tone. “Yes, well. I’m sorry.” She kissed my shoulder again, then added, “I wouldn’t have said no, you know. I am in love with you, after all.”

“Oh?” I smiled. “That so?”

“Yes. It’s annoying but persistent.” She paused, then added, “Much like you. Now come down here and kiss me again.”

Well, she’d had an awful day. What could I do but obey?
</lj-ct>

Four Reasons Long-Distance Relationships Don't Work Out

Sun, 18 May 2008 03:41:30 GMT

Title: Four Reasons Long-Distance Relationships Don't Work Out (And One Reason They Definitely Do)
Author: TigerKat24
Recipient: Priscellie
Assignment: Molly and Carlos try some innovative solutions to a long-distance relationship.
Word Count: 1,768
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Written for the Dresden Files ficathon. Slight spoilers for Small Favor. Beta'd by the wonderful awanderingbard since my usual darling Pris was out for obvious reasons. Speaking of.

Dear Pris,
SYKE.
Love, Kat.

1.
Road trips, Molly decided, were definitely out.

Not that she minded long nights under the stars, or turning up the radio as loud it would go and singing along to “She’s a Sensation” while tearing down Route 66 as fast as she could. Those were fun. She didn’t really mind the rest-stop food, or the occasional magic-induced breakdown, or the long hours cramped in the cab, inching along the map towards Los Angeles. Not so much fun, but she could deal. She didn’t even mind the traffic, much. Carlos was worth a little bit of frustration.

No, what she really couldn’t stand was the reception when she got home.

She got back very late from the first trip, at ten or eleven, so she didn’t slam the door or call a greeting. Her littler brothers and sisters would certainly be asleep; even her parents might have retreated to bed. Though they weren’t necessarily asleep.

Okay. Molly did not want to go there. She shook the thought out of her mind, eased the front door shut, and tiptoed up the stairs.

She made it up to her room without stirring any wails or yells of greeting, and closed the door behind herself with a sigh. Safe back home. Awesome as a week with Carlos was, three days on the road did not make for a happy or energetic Molly, and she’d need to be both to deal with her siblings.

Which was what a night’s rest was for. She smiled, and turned away from the door towards her bed.

Which was otherwise occupied.

Molly stared at it, feeling her jaw slowly drop. Her beloved siblings had seen fit to festoon her bed with red streamers, a heart made out of red-wrapped chocolates, various stuffed animals and cards left over from Valentine’s Day, and a big sign that read, in Daniel’s best handwriting, “Molly and Carlos kissing in a tree!”

Beneath that, Harry had printed in wobbly capitals: “K-I-S-I-N-G.” Apparently no one had had the heart to correct him.

Molly stood for another moment, torn between the adorableness of the whole thing (and the undeniable attraction of the chocolate) and a sudden burning need to strangle Daniel in his sleep.

Road trips were definitely out.

2.
Carlos Ramirez had no idea how he was going to get out of this one.

“Well, for starters,” he said, as diplomatically as possible, “it was not my idea.”

“Oh, you really expect me to believe that, do you?” Harry sounded very, very annoyed. “You expect me to believe that Molly would come up with that all by her innocent little self?”

Carlos blinked for a moment. “Innocent?” he said, at last. “Are we talking about the same Molly? Molly Carpenter?”

“Oh, shut up.” The annoyance in Harry’s voice receded a little, replaced by reluctant amusement. “You are aware that I am responsible to her mother for what goes on in my apartment.”

Charity Carpenter. Oh, dear. “Yes,” Carlos said, putting as much meek contrition into his voice as he could manage without laughing. “I do. And I repeat that it wasn’t my idea.”

“Not to mention,” Harry continued, as if Carlos hadn’t said anything, “my virgin ears. I did not need to hear that. Ever. Ever ever ever.”

Carlos snorted. “Since I’m the only one in this conversation who’s actually a virgin…”

"Sure didn’t sound like it, unicorn bait.”

“Bite me.” It sounded like he was out of the woods. Carlos let himself relax, minutely.

Harry mumbled something inaudible, then said, “But seriously, Ramirez. Any more phone sex in my apartment and I tell Charity.”

Carlos stared at the phone for a moment in silent horror. “Dios. You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Warden shortage or not, I don’t need to hear that. Make it so.” Harry hung up.

Well, fuck.

3.
Molly couldn’t stop giggling.

“Disgraced,” Harry moaned, his face buried in his hands.

“Your face!” Molly said. “His face! Their faces! Oh my God!”

Harry lifted his head and glared at her. “You do realize, apprentice, that I will never be able to show my face in the Council again.”

She shrugged. “Not like you weren’t looking for an excuse to duck a few more Council meetings. Way I see it, you should be thanking me.”

“No, I really shouldn’t. We have to work with these people!”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Aren’t you being a little overdramatic? I saw Ebenezar shoot whiskey out his nose. Commander Luccio was sniggering. Even Morgan wasn’t as mad as he was pretending. I think it was just LaFortier who was shouting about disgrace and you don’t like him anyway!”

Harry put his face back in his hands, from which gesture Molly correctly surmised that he couldn’t in all honesty refute that. “The worst damn part is that I had to agree with Morgan. You made me agree with Morgan, Molly! I hope you’re happy!”

Molly put on her best noble-sacrifice face. “I’ll await the call from the Nobel Peace Prize committee, then.”

“Wiseass.”

“Why are you so upset, anyway?” she asked, folding her arms. “It’s not like it was black magic or anything.”

Harry raised his head again to give her an incredulous look. “Morgan found you, my apprentice, making out with his youngest regional commander in the closet. At a Council meeting. Where we are meant to be serious, business-type folks. IE, not making out in the closet.”

Molly smirked. “I hadn’t seen him in a while. And hey, if the Lord did not want me to make out with Carlos in a closet, He would not have put a closet in close proximity to a very boring Council meeting.”

“I’m pretty sure that God had little or nothing to do with your overactive teenage hormones,” Harry said.

“Says the man who was eyeing up Commander Luccio,” Molly said, unrepentant. “What was that about serious business-type folks again?”

Harry went an interesting shade of pink. “Fine. Our little secret. You won’t do it again, right?”

Molly thought it best to remain diplomatically silent.

She had no intention of getting caught again, at any rate.

4.
The problem with having a girlfriend in Chicago when you lived in Los Angeles (aside from the numerous people who refused to believe that she existed) was that you did not get to see her very often. The problem with that should, Carlos thought, be self-evident, particularly when Molly was as hot as she was. Particularly when he’d been recently engaged in a fascinating attempt to discover just how far down the tattoos went.

He relaxed back into the couch, hands behind his head, and lapsed into a quiet, happy contemplation of his girlfriend. He’d just decided that his next experiment would be with some of her piercings, and not the ones on her face, either, when he was jolted rudely out of his pleasant fantasy.

“Carlos!” His sister Marisol snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Wake up!”

“No, I won’t take your shift,” he replied, automatically, and blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You were a million miles away,” Marisol said, hands on her hips.

Carlos considered. “More like two thousand. What do you want?”

Marisol eyed him suspiciously, but evidently decided it wasn’t worth her time. “Will you take my shift don’t say no I want to go out with Jorje tomorrow night and Mama has me working.”

He sighed. “Tomorrow night?”

Marisol squeaked. “Nine o’clock. You’re the best brother ever!”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “You only ever say that when I do stuff for you. Go away.”

“I love you anyway, crankypants,” Marisol said, and obligingly went away.

In his mind, Molly flicked her tongue stud against her teeth and smiled wickedly at him. That smile always made him want to take her somewhere private—anywhere private. That smile, and the thing she did with her tongue…

“Carlos!”

Goddamnit. “What?” he snapped, and opened his eyes just enough to glare.

Eduardo, his eldest brother, gave him a look. “There’s no need to snap. Can you babysit for Luisa tonight?”

Carlos adored his niece, but he really couldn’t. “Got to work,” he said, and then, perfunctorily, “Sorry. Ask Marisol.”

“All right.” Eduardo went out again.

Carlos waited a good minute or so, to be sure that no other members of his vast extended family were going to come in. It seemed quiet, anyway. Tentatively, he closed his eyes, and reached out for Molly…

“Carlos!”

Some days he could just kill them all.

5.
“We’re insane, aren’t we.”

“Probably,” Carlos said, sleepily. “Does it matter?”

Molly snorted, and ran her fingers through his hair. He lay on her couch with his head in her lap, his eyes half-closed, spending a few hours with her before he had to go back to Los Angeles and his duties there.

So far away. He was always so far away. She swallowed, and said, “Hey. Do you ever wonder if it’s worth it?”

He shrugged, an interesting contortion in a man lying down. “Define it.”

“Us. Me. This.”

Carlos opened his eyes very wide and gave her a hurt, bewildered look. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Molly stared at him for a moment, open-mouthed.

Fortunately Carlos couldn’t keep a straight face for long.

“You suck,” Molly said, over his laughter, and dumped his head on the couch. “Jesus, don’t do that to me.”

“Oh, but you’re so funny when you’re shocked,” he said, then, “Ow, all right, all right, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be a jerk when I’m being serious,” she said. “Really. Do you ever wonder if it’s worth it?”

Carlos sat up, and ran his hands through his hair like he usually did when he wasn’t entirely happy. “No. It’s not that I like the distance, or the trouble, or people’s faces when they open doors that are meant to be locked…”

Molly giggled at the memory. “I like the faces.”

“You would. As I was saying, it’s not that I like the trouble.” He leaned over and brushed a thumb over her lips. “It’s just that I never once doubted you, querida. You’re worth it all and more.”

She blushed, and to hide it, leaned forward and kissed him. Carlos slipped an arm around her shoulders and tilted her head back just a little, and she forgot to worry.

“Oh, yeah,” she breathed, after a moment. “That’s why I love you.”

Carlos smiled. “What, you mean my devilish charm and angelic good looks don’t have anything to do with it?”

“Peacock,” she said. “No, I’m just using you for makeouts.”

“Good enough for me.” He kissed her again.

Meme! (of doom!)

Fri, 16 May 2008 02:41:32 GMT

Comment here, and I shall...

a) Tell you why I friended you.
b) Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, etc
c) Tell you something I like about you.
d) Tell you a memory I have of you.
e) Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
f) Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
g) In return, you must post this in your LJ. (If you want. I won't hold you to it.)

Eeee!

Wed, 14 May 2008 09:33:08 GMT

I HAS A BETA READER FOR ORIGINAL SHITE.

Katie, welcome to the illustrious company that includes Priscellie, she of the Awesome, eponymous_rose, she of the Equally Awesome and Separated From Pris At Birth (trufax), and awanderingbard, who is--you guessed it--of the Awesome, though not separated from Pris and Rose at birth.

You lot, make Katie comfortable. We love her and hope that she will stay a while.

BETA READER. FR SRS. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Wed, 14 May 2008 01:16:40 GMT

So today I found myself really, really mad at my parents again for something I thought I'd long since forgiven them for.

My parents got divorced last year. I'm fairly sure you know this, if you read my journal. Whatever. The relevant point to this story is that when they told me this (and after I'd had my sobbing fit, thank you Sarah for being there), I told them that I did not want to know the reasons behind the divorce. After all, they had told me and my brother themselves that it had nothing to do with us. I wanted them to stick to that, and to not tell me precisely why they'd chosen to seperate, because I did not want to know. I didn't want it to affect my relationships with either of them, because they're still my parents, and I still love them. I didn't want that to change. I did have some issues with their timing on telling us, but overall, I was okay with the whole thing.

Fast forward to spring break. I had more or less gotten used to the idea. The few breakdowns I did have were smoothed over with the heroic effort of too many of my friends to list here: suffice to say that you all are amazingly awesome and I'm so grateful to you for being there. I went home for spring break somewhat apprehensive, but mostly okay. I thought I might have to deal with a little stress.

A little, did I say? Hoo boy.

Not two days into spring break, my parents sat me and my brother down, apparently on the advice of their psychologist, and told us precisely why they'd gotten divorced. Over my objections. Even when I screamed at them. Even when I broke down sobbing, they insisted on telling me what I had made repeatedly clear that I did not want to know.

On the advice of their psychologist.

I won't go into what exactly it was; suffice to say that it was pretty much what I'd feared I was going to hear. I actually hated them for a solid few days after that.

I don't hate easily, though, and I don't really hold grudges. Don't have a good enough short-term memory. So I stopped hating them, and I guess I mistook that for forgiveness. Obviously, though, it wasn't, because intermittently I'll find myself so angry at them for doing that to me. It's not so much what they told me as that they told me, that they overrode my wishes because someone who doesn't even know me, someone who never met me and never consulted me told them that it was better for me that they do so.

So I guess my question is does this sound weird? Am I justified in being angry this long after the fact? Or am I just irrevocably screwed up in the head?

o.O

Tue, 13 May 2008 22:23:45 GMT

This icon is hitting itself in time to "I'm Too Sexy."
Yeah. Chew on that.

Edit: As is this one.

Edit 2: AND THIS ONE.

PostSecret response

Sun, 11 May 2008 09:36:40 GMT

http://bp2.blogger.com/_a7jkcMVp5Vg/SCYwMWIxbbI/AAAAAAAAE2o/zcg5UldegLs/s1600-h/1500.jpg

Oh, Mom. I still love you, and I miss you too. I did not choose to go here because I wanted to get away, I chose to go here because I wanted to be here. The fact that it's so far away is a minus, not a plus.
But I really do love you, and I will always be your baby girl.

That's... baffling.

Sun, 11 May 2008 04:32:35 GMT

So I'm... puzzled. I just got a really fantastic critique on one of my stories. Normally I would be over the moon to get a critique like this. Well, probably a bit hurt, as the critiquer seemed to think that the story was absolutely irredeemable and had no good points whatsoever. But it did point up several of my flaws as a writer, and hey, I could always use that.

But um.

"Given that your profile states you are a professional author, I hope you
won't take offense to some harsher criticism. (No, really, I promise I'm not
stalking you or something... I heard your name before, and I wanted to see if
you'd written anything I'd already read...)
Alright, before I start, I must admit I have a bit of a dislike for
crossovers. All too frequently, they are created simply on the basis of one
small parallel between plotlines that an auther wants to exploit to look
witty.
I really wonder, though, why HMC and Torchwood? The only reason you seem to
have so far is that both of them occur in Wales for at least some of the
story. And, honestly, it's quite a difficult crossover to attempt. HMC is a
lighthearted, young teen book, while Torchwood is a dark, serious show. The
feeling between the two is so different that you would have to do something
brilliant to keep the depth each of them has while making them similar enough
to work together in one plotline.
And you haven't. You've flattened it all out until I'm not sure I'm reading
the same characters anymore.
Though the characters aren't always realistic, even in the original book and
series, you're characters have the depth of paper bags with faces drawn on
them. You have to be able to understand characters before writing them.
Mainly what I mean here is that you've got Howl and Sophie throwing these
little jokes back and forth, and just generally being quite happy and
pleasant. It's enough to make anyone forget that a team of very
foreign-looking individuals has just broken down the door and pinned Howl to
the ground.
Also, you have NO back story whatsoever. I don't know if this is meant to be
filled in later, but you've just thrown us into the action without any
warning. Don't forget, this is a crossover. Some of your readership won't be
initially familiar with all of the characters. I am, but I still felt like I
was jolted into the story with no warning.
Altogether, I suppose it could redeem itself in later chapters, but not if it
keeps up this way. It feels like you picked a difficult project and haven't
given it the thought it would usually require.
In any case, forgive me if you weren't looking for this sort of critique. I'm
being quite picky, I know, and I hope you take no offense.
Hope everything works out, then! :D"

So I'm confused. What Planet Are You From? is very clearly a crack crossover. It was in fact posted originally on a crack crossover meme; I just moved it to FFN because I thought other people might get a giggle out of it. I put no real work into it, and I certainly didn't intend to continue it (as shown by its clearly being marked "complete").

Someone spent a good chunk of their time on this, probably at least fifteen minutes. I think the review might be longer than the story. It's certainly more thought-out. Wow.

And the worst bit is it's anonymous, so I can't recruit this person to be a secondary beta reader. *siiiiigh*

Tue, 06 May 2008 04:22:19 GMT

I am going to fucking stab that fucking emotionally manipulative bitch. I hope she fucking dies in a fire. Where the fuck does she get off doing that to him? I don't fucking care what he did in the last couple of months, he put up with her attention-seeking manipulative bullshit for God only fucking knows how many fucking years, and then she goes and rips him apart because, what, he wouldn't look at her book OMG RIGHT THE FUCK NOW because he'd rather, oh, I don't know, be on a date with me his girlfriend? FUCK YOU SIDEWAYS WITH A TREE YOU FUCKING EVIL BITCH.
She is seriously so fucking lucky that I don't actually know where she lives.

Miscallaneous Fannish Thoughts

Tue, 06 May 2008 01:46:37 GMT

1) I met Heather Chesterton at a concert recently, or at least someone who looks exactly like her, down to the frizzy blonde hair. Heather's voice is quite a bit higher than hers, and Heather is from Surrey rather than Canada somewhere, but other than that... I mean sheesh, she even played the piano!

2) Apparently Heather is dating an Irishman named Matthew. Beats me.

3) May have found an icon that works for Jen at long goddamn last.

4) Really want to take Lionel and Gabi's story from FG, file the serial numbers off, and turn it into an original novel. Too bad only Gabi and Saul are actually my characters. *sulk*

5) Frickin' writer's block.

6) In conclusion, I hate fandom.