Scorpion Stung

2003-12-13T01:44:00.000-08:00

I have moved, and shall (probably) not be back here, for a long long time. if you still wanna follow, check out this place, yo:

My Livejournal.

That is all. i hate caps.

2003-12-12T02:18:00.000-08:00

I've got the chills again.

Wearing my trench coat.

If i get the flu again...

I will quit school. forever.

that is all.

2003-12-11T13:35:00.000-08:00

I have successfully watched the entire Matrix trilogy backwards. So, for me, it was a ygolirt. I'm not gonna try and pronounce that...

But, in any case, I am satisfied.

That is all. ^_^

2003-12-10T14:51:00.000-08:00

Well Well Well...

*Has to resist saying something like Agent Smith, for some strange reason. Damn those Matrix movies.*

Well, a few posts back i mentioned a vampire story. it seems people don't want any undead sex. but, but, UNDEAD!! Vampires are cool! I could even list off the vampire chars i think are cool! um, Nefertiri (hey, i even drew a fan art of this character, it's up at elfwood), a lot of other vampires... and, there ya go. ... don't hit me, okay, i said i'd list 'em and i did.

So, that kinda sucks. Oh and, Sianne, if you're the one who left a double comment down there, i know you don't like anything gay. No need to tell me more.

So's it seems i might not write a vampire story after all. Maybe i will, maybe i won't, but who knows at this point?

News. Dan is addicted to books. so much that they talk to him. they're dragging him in, damnit! he won't comment on anything! he's not writing much on his blog (but i consider every day to be a good updating op... so don't mind me)! He DOESN'T CARE THAT I SAW THE SUCKY MATRIX MOVIES FIRST!! ... Although i like the Twins. they fascinate me. just like the word 'fascinate' fascinates me. Isn't it just so cool?? ... Anyways.

I've found i have a thing for tophats, mostly because a friend linked me to a few pics of Marilyn Manson and instead of noticing the background peoples and poses and stuff, my first reaction was, and i quote, 'OMFG!! O.O HAT!!!'

Oh, and I'm watching the entire three movies of the Matrix backwards. I saw the third matrix in the theatre, and later, i realized the Twins interested me, and so i rented Reloaded because, well, the twins. And soon, probably today, i shall watch the Matrix.

And then i will write a fic about it. But that's besides the point.

...I really don't have anything else to say... other than the fact that i want a new trench coat (my current one is missing a button. NOT THE BUTTON!! oh, and the other ones look like they're about to fall off...) and that my nickname at skool is 'Matrix', which is cool. Mm'yep. ... That's it.

2003-12-08T22:57:00.000-08:00

You are glucose. People feed off of you. You are
sweet, caring, and a source of energy for
everyone around you. You can inspire others
with your creativity and depth, and you can
keep people alive when in times of famine.
People love you...or at least the way you
taste.

Which Biological Molecule Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Whoo! I TASTE GOOD!!

...*looks at above (short) sentence and cracks up*

2003-12-08T19:09:00.000-08:00

Vampire peoples!

Ya know how i said in my last post that i drew a couplea characters who i decided to make a story for? Well, I've named both of them now. Dust, who is the male bi pervert troublemaker (and he's short with a big hat. ...HAT!!) and Shade, the older, smarter, taller, more curvey and much more sensible big sister. ...Yes. big. o.O

*a-hem* Aanyways, i might actually write a story down for them. Weird idea, huh? Me actually doing something like that? Mmyep. Dum-de-dum...IF I ever get to writing down a full story, theirs'd have like, sex and violence. Yeah. Heavy on the sex, prob'ly. Just warning you. And, all kinds of sex, too! Het and Slash (more slash, whee-hee-hoo!) and all that jazz.

Anyways. So. If anybody, anybody at all, is interested on how i'd write a vampire story...well, leave a comment for meh and i might post it. ...please? I love the love...

...Mmyep. That is all.

2003-12-08T01:37:00.000-08:00

Well. This is interestingish.

I've drawn a couple characters. well, one's still in the process of being drawn...(and she's tall, let me tell you. probably to make up for lack of large hat.) but anyways. They're vampires, i'm pretty sure. The guy vampire (he's short, heeh) already has a name. It's Dust.

So, that's all really. I'm going to go to bed. And you can probably expect a brand new story, probably centering on Dust and his companion type person.

Mmyep.

Bed. *waves*

2003-12-05T01:37:00.000-08:00

I have found I have the magical ability to write Happy Noodle Boy phrases when I desire sleep. My favorite of which is:

"Fffuck! You Toaster!!"

I think I'll start calling people Toasters as an insult to them now. Curi is a toaster.

If you don't know who Happy Noodle Boy is, I say that you should read Jhonen comics. That is all. My bed calls.

2003-12-04T11:32:00.000-08:00

I'm going to an art class at one of da schools in the area, and...

It sucks. I kinda wish I could just stop going, but I don't. I guess it's a weird sort of pride, trying to show off that my freehandwork is better than the other people's in my class.

And it is. I've checked.

But I'm really sick of class. I had a pencil thrown at me today. Beh. I think I'm going to write more... cause obviously my art ain't appreciated any.

Eh, but then again, when it comes down to it... I don't know if my writing's appreciated either! Bah. Ah well.

Maybe I'll just stare vacantly at the TV. Yeah, that's what I'll do...

2003-12-01T22:07:00.000-08:00

Today is my birthday!! whee! I didn't exactly have a party but i had fun.

Anyways. I think i'm going to continue tSiC. m' fans are going to kill me for being so late. then they might ressurect me and make me continue the fic... or maybe they'll just kill me, then write it themselves. hm. *shrugs*

Well, off to get hyper and write a fic.

2003-11-30T14:08:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is my Birthday.

I still don't know what I'm going to do.

I think, just to be different, I'll actually hug somebody of my own free will.

...

Then I'll go back to sleep. Or lay in bed and watch TV. I can't decide which.

2003-11-27T20:39:00.000-08:00

I did it in 21 seconds.
I deserved a B+!!
Take the How Dexterous Are You? Quiz!!

Obviously, i'm not very dexterous...

2003-11-27T11:27:00.000-08:00

Sick-feeling

Overly-dry lips

Clogged nose

Back feels like someone walked on it

Oy Vey, the pain...

Can't breathe properly

*faint*

2003-11-26T12:51:00.000-08:00

IFS, but not the comic

In case there are those of you who don't know about Jhonen-sama's comics, IFS translates to I Feel Sick. And, I do. Feel sick, that is. Because I am.

I woke up around 6:15 shivering like hell. So I went out to sit in front of the fire. Almost fell asleep there, too. But one of my parents helped me get back into bed, with another cover. I stopped shivering then, and fell asleep.

Then I woke up later on to feeling too hot, a booming headache, as well as a horribly sore throat. Mom helped me get advil, because i was stuck sitting, and my headache got worse whenever I stood up. Then, I stumbled out to my computer. Got another Review Alert from FF.net (yay), then found out on TCSblog, people hate me.

I've still got a headache, but it's not as horrible as before. So, I'm sick. Don't make me mad at you, somehow, someway, I will cough on your computer and give it a virus.

That is all.

2003-11-25T18:44:00.000-08:00

My Birthday is next week. I don't know what I'm going to do. Help me, please. Or I'll be doomed.

2003-11-24T01:11:00.000-08:00

Bio

“It’s when you say pizza is nutritious and eat it, in the middle of the night, trying to warm it with your cold hands, that you realize you’ve gotten pretty damn low.” --Sierra AKA Me

And now begins the Bio of Sierra AKA Hentai-Sama AKA Matrix AKA Red_Cliff_Rhapsody.

Sierra does not like talking about herself in third person. But she won’t stop talking in third person until—oooh, Mission Hill’s on!

Sierra has ADD. She likes lots of types of foods, nice people, Jhonen Vasquez, Jhonen Vasquez’s comics, forks, RPGs, writing, drawing, being herself, TV, many other things, making people perverted, being perverted, gay porn, and terrorizing the innocent.

Okay, not so much the last one. Sierra is sarcastic, tries to be nice, doesn’t always like people, is fickle, crushes on people easily, gets distracted easily, doesn’t always like a lot of attention, has a large bust and is somewhere between 4 feet and 6 feet in height.

She has a knack for liking the most expensive things, and wishes she had money. Sierra likes gay people, and doesn’t like nasty people. She has no need for this “order” you speak of and is bad at keeping track of things she doesn’t particularly like. Sierra is a master at procrastinating.

Sierra likes males and females, and can also be sexually attracted to the internet. She is a dork in the worst way, and is paranoid. She thinks that ducks are being raped in the backyard. Sierra likes making people laugh but fails ultimately, for she is not very funny, unless you count looks.

Sierra has a sweet tooth and hates her braces because they inhibit her sugar intake. Blood is in her sugar stream. She wishes she could finish this quickly so she could get back to watching TV, or so she could fall asleep. Sweet, sweet sleep with dreams about evil buffets.

And now you know Sierra. But to torture you more I shall continue on with this meaningless bio.

People and Things Sierra Spends Time On And/Or Likes

Sierra spends her time remembering all the lines to the song “Blame Canada” from the South Park Movie, because she wants to sing it when she goes to Canada. From there she plans to be chased by an angry mob of Canadians across the border. With those flapping heads of theirs, and those beady eyes.

She also spends her time procrastinating, and eating pure sugar. She also spends her time running away from angry mobs, so she stays at an not-overweight weight. If you ask her weight she will take up a spork and disembowel you.

Sierra likes to write and draw, but thinks she is crap at it, and wishes to advance. She took a class to advance her drawing skills. It hasn’t worked yet. She spends some of her time writing but often is angry instead, because her muses are fucking whores.

Sierra refuses to be called a Goth. Because unlike Goths, she likes vampires, but has no wish to join the hordes of bloodsucking undead.

Sierra loves sleep, and misses it dearly. She wishes that she was asleep now, but then remembers that she still won’t get enough sleep if she goes to sleep now. damn.

Sierra does not like waking up early, but is stuck doing it for the time being. She should probably get more sleep.

Sierra’s friends follow as these:

IRL friend #1
IRL friend #2
IRL friend #3
IRL friend #4
Dan Frank
Lulie Taylor
Elliot Temple

Sierra is antisocial and realizes that anew as she reads that list.

Sierra is afraid of the dark and doesn’t know why she’s typing this here.

She likes music and prefers to not be bothered while listening to a good song. She is running out of things to say.

---

aww fuckit. I can continue this tomorrow. Sleepiness is getting to me.

2003-11-24T00:15:00.000-08:00

That poor Duck...

ArriesMetallium: *idly notices something*... i think there's a duck being raped in the backyard.
Psychoxalen: LOL
Psychoxalen: What?????

What boredom will do to a mind. Along with a duck. That Poor, Poor Duck.

2003-11-23T22:42:00.000-08:00

'FU' as you'd say.

Because obviously I can't do anything more than say that. Why? Because my views don't correspond. With anybody's. And my arguments fail to convince anybody of anything. So, therefore, I am immoral and wrong. Or, at least that's what I'm gathering from curi's arguments.

Oh yeah, curi? Sorry for being a 'false follower' of TCS and not believing everything you and DD say without thinking about it first and wondering if I myself will believe it.

And now since I honestly can't do anything else, I'm going to go kill some brain cells. By denting the walls. With my head.

*Edit* Oh and curi dahling, if you actually bothered being observant you'd see not everything is blocked. But it might soon be, I'm not sure, I'm a person of whim.

2003-11-23T10:50:00.000-08:00

Why do I get left with these people?...

Okee-dokee. If any of my readers (Ha! Readers... that's a good one!) has actually ever been to the TCSblog, you'll have noticed the title has been changing. Rapidly. And some titles can be offensive to people. Like, for example, "Eliminate Elliot" and "As the Stomach Churns". If anybody understood what those were about, sorry if I offended you. But, here's the thing...

I did those titles!! Jeezus... Stop blaming Dan! I swear, the only one who guessed right was DD, he thought I was the one who did it right away.

Can't say much for the deduction skills of the rest of you. I mean come on. Why would Dan go change the title just to offend Elliot? It's not worth it to him, from what I understand. If he's going to diss Elliot, he'll do it from his own blog. I, on the other hand, argue with curi every time we friggin' talk, if Elliot's hand isn't hurting from his goddamned masturbation problem. Then we don't talk at all.

See, I'm the one who will try to get revenge on someone else. Even if it's from my own misconceptions, or just to defend my friends. Plus curi is just easy to diss and beat up verbally. I don't like him as much as I used to, or as much as other people do. Kay? kay.

So; I changed the title to "Eliminate Elliot." Dan knew about it, sure, but goddamnit curi stop being such a bleeding crack, Dan is not part of some conspiracy to beat you down! All that happened was that He said if I changed the title to that, you'd think he did it. (Jeez, and he wasn't wrong, either.) So I did to see what would happen. And I told him I would.

But neither did he encourage me to do it, or did he discourage me to. I did it on my own. Nobody else really had a say in it, I would have probably did it anyways.

Oh and, curi, I didn't even come up with that while talking to Dan. He had no real involvement of the creation at all. So, from what I can see here, You're the fuckhead, not Dan. And dude, believing only Toad... tsk tsk. You're so unscientific.

So, in the end, it ends up like this. Me writing a long rant about how I friggin' did it, NOT Dan, which will get no responses whatsoever because My blog just isn't that great, And having curi on my wonderful pet, the blocks list. He hasn't been there for a while, he might want to make sure his place hasn't been damaged while he was gone.

Well. That's it. So, End. I'm going to go back to sleep...

2003-11-22T02:28:00.000-08:00

More of the story below.

Sorry to disappoint, though; it'ts not the one with Christophe and Demitry. them dahlings have been giving me a hard time when it comes to plotting and writing. so, instead, i wrote more of Dan's Dare story. hm. i think i shall call it "Mirrors" for the time being. anyways, read up, folks, for here i paste.

***

Tatiana knew this wasn’t her dream the second she was transferred into it. She knew because before, she had been dreaming about an evil buffet managed by zombies, while on the run from a werewolf.

But this ‘dream’ was different. The sky was a bright red, almost like shed blood, and the tall skeletons of skyscrapers made of, obsidian? Onyx? She wasn’t sure, but some kind of polished black rock, crowned the horizon. There was smoke in the air, she could smell it; and no life seemed to be in this ‘dream.’ Quite odd for her, she usually dreamt with other people in her dreams, made up or not.

Tatiana took a step, and something crunched under her booted foot. Wait, booted?

It was then that Tatiana noticed her new clothing. All in blacks, reds and grays, she was wearing a jacket that highly resembled her own in the waking world, but this jacket was red and patterned with black spiderwebs. She also wore a turtleneck shirt, black, with the sleeves cut off. She was also wearing a thin fishnet shirt over the turtleneck. What used to be jeans were now tights and a short skirt; making her feel revealed as she usually wore as much clothes as possible, trying to hide her form. Large clunky black boots adorned her feet, ending at the top of her calves.

And then she saw what her foot had landed on. A small skeleton of a mouse with two tails was now crushed under her boot. She yelped and stepped back quickly, staring at the bones before tugging the red jacket closer to herself and turning away.

Tatiana started across the odd landscape, heading towards one of the half-collapsed buildings of, she was sure of it now, Obsidian. If she knew anything about her dreams, buildings were the safest places, next to cars. Even if this dream was quite an odd one.

It took surprisingly less time than she thought it would to get to one of the Obsidian buildings. The half-open door wasn’t particularly inviting, but it wasn’t repelling, either. So Tatiana stepped inside.

Her boots crunched on fallen small chips of obsidian, and reddish light filtered through the open ceiling. The room was chill, and Tatiana was glad for the jacket in that moment, even if the thin tights on her legs left her legs freezing. Tatiana looked around, greenish eyes taking in everything possible about the obsidian room.

Fragments of glasslike obsidian, small ones that wouldn’t pierce through her boots, were scattered across the floor. Picture frames and paintings were on the ground, covered by grayish dust and flecks of obsidian. There was a fluffy armchair in one corner, a large rip and three or so other smaller rips revealing the stuffing of the chair.

And on the far wall was a mirror. Clean and tidy, not scratched in the least, it was an odd mirror, unaffected by the destruction around it.

Tatiana decided the mirror was strange, but then again, it was a dream, so who cared? She turned her back to the mirror, having forgotten its identical twin that had somehow appeared in an earlier dream.

She was about to check the chair to see if it was safe to sit in when a light, silvery-blue glow burst from the mirror behind her. Tatiana spun to face it, hair flying and eyes wide. The center of the mirror was a bright spiral now, and something was pushing through the middle of the spiral.

Although Tatiana wanted to run, something that always happened in dreams glued her feet to the floor. Tatiana could no longer control her body as slowly a clawed hand pushed through the mirror, the silver surface of the mirror acting almost like water and rushing back to its frame after the hand broke through. The clawed hand reached for something, then came to rest on the table below the mirror that Tatiana had failed to notice earlier.

After coming to rest on the table, the clawed hand dug into the wood, splinters splitting up from the gashes the animal-like nails made. Slowly, the hand pulled the body attached to it through the mirror. First, the rest of the arm, followed by another hand which also gripped the table. Then emerged a wild head of messy black hair, and under the black hair, a pale pale face, eyes closed. The person from the mirror pulled himself through until the mirror’s surface, still acting like water, rested fairly calmly around his waist.

Tatiana had stood completely still, watching the process, fascinated. Neither being moved for a moment, until the man from the mirror turned his face to her, eyes still closed. It was then Tatiana noticed the tattoos around the man’s eyes, an arrow pointed from the end of his left eye, and a black teardrop was tattooed under the right.

Again, neither being moved for a moment. Then, the man opened his eyes slowly, revealing a pure white expanse where real eyes would have had color and blackness. Tatiana shuddered under the blank gaze, knowing somehow the other being still saw.

The man from the mirror smiled wickedly. “Welcome to my realm, Tatiana.” He hissed, Malice in his voice.

Tatiana screamed.

2003-11-21T03:34:00.000-08:00

You are Tank Girl!
Congrats! You are the coolest character in the
comic book/movie universe! You'll do anything
for your friends, your freedom, and your beer!

Which Tank Girl Character Are You???
brought to you by Quizilla

I love those things...they're hilarious. (scroll down for important stuff already!)

2003-11-21T01:40:00.000-08:00

How much I suck (not in that way you perverts)

Okay, wanna know why I suck? Because I started a whole new story. Well, it's part Dan's fault, because he challanged me to write something with no male/male action. god DAMN that man is harsh. anyways, yeah. new story. read and review, and maybe i'll get more stuff about Christophe churned out.

---
He was bored. So very bored. Watching the world he commanded through the mirror had gotten boring, boring so long ago. Making mischief for others had lost its appeal, nobody was there to bother. Looking into the other worlds would be boring, no doubt; nobody did anything important in front of mirrors. So very boring.

Reaching out with his delicately clawed hand, he pulled his personal mirror to himself, resting it on his lap. He brushed the tip of a claw across the top of the mirror, rippling across as he skipped through different ‘frequencies’, if you will.

So many worlds had fallen into apocalypse. It was most likely a trend. A sigh escaped his lips and he pulled his claw away from the mirror’s surface. The mirror reverted back to its normal self, reflecting his soulless eyes back at him. Soulless because they were nothing more than a white expanse, blank. He frowned deeply and ran a hand across the mirror’s surface quickly. He didn’t like his own reflection.

The mirror settled into an odd dimension of sorts. It had to be an odd dimension, for everything looked mixed up and placed wrong. A female, humanoid, ran in front of the mirror, panicking for some unseen reason. Her black-and-red hair flew around in a panic as she skidded to a halt and spun around, running in the other direction. He caught a glimpse of her eyes; green with a ring of yellow closer to the inside. Interesting.

He rested his chin on his hand, watching this vaguely interesting girl through the mirror as he stroked the edge of his precious mirror, sending soft ripples across its surface yet not breaking the image.

Quite interesting, he realized, as he was looking into this strange girl’s dreams.

***

Tatiana stared at the movie-filled shelf in front of her, contemplating which movie she’d take tonight out of the horror section. She didn’t particularly like horror flicks, except for one, Queen of the Damned, which wasn’t all that scary; but it was shelved in the horror section, so horror it was.

“Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the Thirteenth, Resident evil, The Ring, I get to choose…” Tatiana muttered to herself, nibbling on her thumbnail as she thought. Maybe she could just get Queen of the Damned again… Tatiana reached for the movie, which was at the end of the rack. Just as her hand was about to touch the cover, her best friend, Erin jumped out from behind the movie shelf, making Tatiana jump before pulling her hand away from Queen of the Damned and shoving them in her jacket pockets.

“Hey Tatiana, what’chu think of this one, eh?” Erin asked in her odd, invented accent, holding up a movie titled ‘Ginger Snaps.’

Tatiana blinked, then inquired, “What’s it about?”

Erin’s eyes quickly skimmed the back of the movie. “It’s a movie about a girl going wolf.”

Tatiana shook her head, black-and-red dyed hair flying around her head as she shook her head no. “Nah. Werewolves are so cliché.”

A snicker came from Erin before the taller, half-mexican girl said, “Then on a technically, your lovely vampires are cliché too.”

“Hey, I don’t love vampires, I just really like the movie Queen of the Damned!” Tatiana announced, a playful scowl crossing her face.

“Vampires, one cute vampire, who’s keeping count?” Erin asked before shoving Ginger snaps into Tatiana’s arms. “We’re getting that one, unless you can find one better.”

Tatiana panicked. “I can find one better, uh, sure! Yeah! Just give me a sec.”

Erin smirked. “Fine, alright. Get it.” She waved a hand in the air carelessly. “Just so you don’t get too scared, I’ll grab Tank Girl for ya, kay?”

“Okay, thanks.” Tatiana was immensely relieved, watching Erin walk off towards the comedy section. She paused to glare at Ginger Snaps in her arms before turning back to the shelves. No movie really caught her eye, well, no movie made her think of getting it, all the covers got her attention. Skip Child’s Play, she had seen that as a kid and definitely didn’t need to see it again. Jeepers Creepers? Maybe. The Ring, Identity, Resident Evil…Resident Evil would work. Tatiana ducked and plucked it off of the shelf, and as an afterthought grabbed Queen of the Damned too. What could it hurt?

Almost as if by magic, Erin was there, Tank Girl and for some reason, The South Park Movie in her hands. “Ready to go?” The other girl asked, happy as ever.

Tatiana gulped. Was she ready for a sleepover of this caliber? Horror movie marathon followed by a couple comedies to wind down, and lots and lots of sugar?

Sure, why not. “Yeah,” Tatiana answered Erin, stacking the videos she held and handing them to the other girl. Erin and Tatiana walked over to the front desk to rent the movies, Tatiana paying the extra two dollars that Erin forgot as per usual, and there started the sleep-when-it’s-over night, as Erin had fondly dubbed it.

A few hours and 20+ bowls of ice cream, hot fudge and cookies later, Tatiana was creeping out from under the covers only to change the movie to Queen of the Damned. Once the movie started playing, Tatiana immediately forgot about Resident Evil and Ginger Snaps and became intent on the screen. Erin yawned from the couch pull-out bed, and rolled over and over, until she fell off of the makeshift bed onto the floor. Then she stood up and popped her spine back into alignment.

“I’m going to make some mocha coffee, alright?” Erin told Tatiana, who mumbled something like “pretty effects…” in return. Erin shrugged and strolled into the kitchen, then set about to making coffee.

Tatiana was transfixed by the TV as it played out the story of Queen of the Damned. She didn’t even notice when Erin sat back down, cup of mocha coffee in hand, and she completely ignored the sleepy form of her sleepwalking brother. Tatiana didn’t notice when Erin blushed at Tatiana’s big brother’s state of undress, he being only in his boxers, or when Erin got up to help him to his room.

She only snapped out of it when the movie ended.

“Aww…” Tatiana whined as the credits started rolling.

“Don’t get so emotional over a movie.” Erin advised, sucking on a straw that was in an open soda can. “It’s bad for your health.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Next movie?” Tatiana requested, kneeling before the VCR and holding a hand out.

Erin tossed The South Park Movie at Tatiana, who caught it and slid it out of the cover before putting it in the VCR. The movie snapped on, and Tatiana and Erin watched the movie in relative silence.

Then Erin broke the silence, by saying out of nowhere, “I think the chicken is a mutate, therefore the egg came first.”

“What?” Tatiana asked, confused.

“The egg came first and the chicken was a feathered mutant. That or the love-child between a flying lizard and a rat.” Erin announced.

Tatiana rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Yes, yes, I got the theory, but why did you think of this in the middle of the movie?”

Erin paused, then shrugged. She immediately got distracted. “Ooh, this is the part with Christophe! It’s a shame he only appears in the movie.”

“Christophe?” Tatiana asked, confused yet again.

“Oh come on. Christophe, The Mole, hello?”

“…Oh.” Tatiana shrugged. “Whatever.”

The rest of the movie, which wasn’t long, was watched in silence. The credits soon started to roll, and then Erin moved to change the tape from The South Park Movie to Tank Girl. The cartoon beginning of Tank Girl began, eye-catching and interesting. The movie started as the night lost its hold, sky turning a lighter and lighter blue until the sun peeked over the horizon, casting everything in a yellowish-orange glow and burning whoever’s eyes that dared look.

But only one person was watching Tank Girl, the other, more sensitive one had fallen asleep early in the movie.

But Tatiana didn’t get rest in sleep, oh no. Another being, as far away from her as seemingly possible, and impossible, had other plans.

2003-11-17T19:39:00.000-08:00

Whoo, more story.

It's not the best, but whatever. I've got a headache...

***

Demitry took a deep breath in, which quickly turned into a hacking cough. He wasn’t ready for a meeting, god no, even if it had been 5 months since the accident.

Demitry Vess was an exoskeleton operator, one of the few who had the ability to pilot the mechanical exoskeletons built after the Apocalypse for protection. So far, the exoskeletons had been of no use whatsoever, since there was nothing to fight, but the Angel corporation continued making them. The exoskeletons were operated from the inside, and unless they blew up (which they just might, they only operated on gasoline the Angel corp. had stored since Apocalypse) the operators couldn’t really be hurt from inside. They were the ultimate weapon in these times.

Standing up from the mildly uncomfortable metal chair he was previously sitting in, Demitry ran a hand through his near-black hair. Silently, he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on over his shirt, then exited the room via the heavy metal door that lead out of his small workstation, which doubled as his room. It was small and cramped, but worked.

Slouching as per usual to make his 5’9” form smaller and less noticeable, Demitry tentatively wandered towards the meeting room. Taking the back halls that most people didn’t use took longer, but it didn’t matter to him how long it took. For all he cared, he could miss the entire meeting.

But of course, no. He had to run into an actual council member, literally run into. Demitry took a couple steps back, looking up with semi-wide eyes into the impassive face of Luke, the fourth highest councilman.

Luke allowed a small frown to cross his face. “Demitry. The meeting started thirteen minutes ago.”

“I-I’m sorry, I was just going now, and—“ Demitry stuttered, but went quiet when Luke held up a hand for silence.

“No time for an explanation.” Luke said, monotonous tone an obvious signal for Demitry to be silent. He was. “Come.”

Luke turned, walking down the hall, and Demitry followed, Demitry staring at the floor right in front of his feet, watching as too-bright solar-powered lights bounced off the linoleum floors. A slight frown crossed Demitry’s face, he really hated the meetings. Useless things.

Demitry looked up quickly, and stopped just in time. Luke was just ahead of him, producing a key from inside his sleeve and unlocking a metal door on the wall. The door’s lock clicked, and Luke opened it, motioning Demitry inside.

Demitry entered. No matter how much he didn’t want to, he had to, and he knew it. He kept his eyes fixed to the floor, standing right inside the doorway and wishing he didn’t have to be there.

“Demitry Vess. We understand there have been … issues with your exoskeleton piloting.” A quiet voice that somehow seemed to echo around the room spoke. Demitry didn’t look up, but he knew who spoke; head councilman Edgar Alexander.

Another voice broke in, louder and bored in tone. “What he means is, you haven’t been piloting at all.” It was David Pierce, the only councilman able to speak what was really in his mind, because really, he didn’t care what people thought. Demitry raised his eyebrows at David’s next statement, though, although nobody really cared.

“Who the hell got me this cup of monkey ass-flavored brown stuff?” David demanded, slamming a cup down on the table. Demitry did look up then, noting his surroundings and which councilpeople were there and which were not.

The room was a blueish-white in color, slightly medical-looking and bleak. The council, founders of the Angel corporation, sat behind a high table, the height of which table and seat told what rank each person was. Naturally, Councilman Edgar sat highest, in the middle of the room.

The council had five in its group. Edgar Alexander, Dominique Cadnum, David Pierce, Luke Jones, and Emma Smith. Edgar was the head councilman, and Dominique was his left-hand woman, second councilman or woman as she preferred. David was the third councilman and most outspoken, Luke, the fourth councilman, was impassive all of the time, and Emma, the fifth, was quiet, yet somehow scary.

Dominique was missing, as well as Emma. That left Demitry in the room with Luke, David and Edgar.

Calmly breaking Demitry out of his thoughts, Luke responded to David. “It’s called coffee, and it does not taste like ‘monkey-ass,’ as you put it.”

Edgar frowned at both Luke and David, and Demitry returned his gaze to the floor. “Continuing swiftly on,” Edgar continued, “Demitry. We know you had an, eh, ‘relationship’ with the late exoskeleton pilot Michael Winter. However, his death should not affect your own performance; you should still be out on the field.”

Demitry, although successfully not showing it, was infuriated, disgusted and depressed all at one time. They wanted him to just forget. To just forget Michael, to just forget the dangers, to just continue on mindlessly with no feelings. He wanted dearly to accuse them of this, but instead felt himself say, “My exoskeleton was …damaged after Michael’s exoskeleton exploded, because it was so close to his when it happened. It was… in for repairs. That’s all, sirs.”

This answer seemed to satisfy Edgar, who nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Then you’ll be back to training soon, I hope?”

“Yes sir.” Demitry replied, quietly.

“Good, finally I can get out of here! Why the hell were Dominique and Emma excused?” David asked, obviously happy that he could leave.

A small flame of anger made itself known in Demitry’s chest, but he ignored it, clenching his fists and waiting to be excused.

“Dominique and Emma were excused because they actually serve a purpose in keeping Angel running.” Edgar informed David, and as a verbal fight broke out between the two councilmembers, Luke tapped Demitry on the shoulder softly. Demitry glanced at the impassive councilman, then nodded when Luke motioned towards the door out.

Demitry left the room, vaguely glad he had left the council room early as the metal door squeaked and shut behind him. If he had stayed in that room and listened as they completely disregarded a death for what it was, the end of a life, he didn’t know what he would have done.

Walking down the back hallways to his room, Demitry paused as another being, another man turned the corner, hands buried deep in trench coat pockets. The other man stopped as well, messy brown hair falling around his gray eyes for a moment, and Demitry quickly averted his gaze. Something in those gray eyes had frightened him, if just for a moment.

Both beings brushed by each other, ignoring the other’s presence. Demitry soon rounded the corner, and entered one of the more populated halls, as reluctant as ever to be around other people.

He passed a couple people, pretending to have not seen when they pointed at him and muttered under their breath, and stopped in front of his door, one of the many doors that lined the walls of Angel’s headquarters. Demitry could spot his door quickly, not because he had memorized the number on the door’s front, but because right beneath the number of his door, scrawled in a black permanent marker, was the word “Fagot.”

Demitry frowned at the word before opening his door, wishing that in the very least, people could spell.

***

2003-11-17T13:30:00.000-08:00

Music...

Is Giving me writer's block?!

It must be because I'm listening to the Radio. The radio sucks nowadays. ...eh, hell, music kinda sucks nowadays. No offense to depressed teenagers who think nobody can possibly understand them no matter what, plus believe that they are different and shocking people with the depressing music they listen to.

Okay, my complaint is this. Everybody is whining. In the songs I hear on the radio a lot, anyways. Like right now somebody's singing about something bleeding in their hands and trying to make it sound kinda dramatic. One, put down the unfrozen piece of uncooked meat, and two, stop trying to make the music sound cool and danceable. Sorry, but I just can't jam to whiny stuff like that. I do know how ...uh, maybe hippie I sound right now, btw.

Now, there are a few bands I like that could be considered depressing, like maybe Puddle of Mudd or Linkin Park, but mostly I don't like depressing music. I guess the kind of music I like is just an odd mix, but whatever. I like older music... I also like Joe Jackson stuff, and Sting music, because the lyrics are just cool and so is the music. Maybe because it's not, to me, 'whine whine whine, i hate you, stop it, you're mine' type music.

And in the end, I don't know where I was going with this. Complaining about music and wishing I didn't have writer's block I guess.

I demand comments, mortals. That is all.

2003-11-16T22:55:00.000-08:00

I was Hella Bored (AKA Dan where the HELL be you?!)

So. I was Hella Bored. And guess what I did?

I went to find people who hate JTHM and then sign their guestbook a bajillizillion times with 'I stare at your head' comments.

And I couldn't find any. ...Eh? Ya know, with the nature of the comic... But then again ADD kicked in and I got distracted. So's yeah.

I'm hungry. fooood...

2003-11-16T01:20:00.000-08:00

Chat Quotes.

Just a random thing that made me crack up... Oh yes, and I admit it, I am a scary Jhonen-fangirl. *spooooky hand waving thingie* be afraid.

anyways, quoting:

Psychoxalen: I assumed something about a mild crush on jhonen?
Psychoxalen: And, I mean
ArriesMetallium: you guess well, young grasshoppah. ...*ehem*
Psychoxalen: I always figured you'd fuck his brains out if you got half a chance, so this information did not surprise me.
Psychoxalen: (mutters about lucky skinny artist bitches, I have to WORK for my snuggles, I write all sortsa gay porn and I probably ain't getting any for years yet, and you speak out against the damn gayness you fucking bastard I'll kill you die bitch die!!!!)
Psychoxalen: ahem.
Psychoxalen: (hug)

...Yes. I thought it was funny. Shut up, it was.

2003-11-16T00:12:00.000-08:00

Hey look, another story section!

Whoo. over 2000 words now. I just need to update my word count, now... eheh...^^;;

***

Christophe had, after shutting and locking all five locks on his door, walked into the kitchen area of his small house, tossing the envelope casually on the counter and sighing lightly before starting on the work it took to boil water these days. Most electrical appliances, excluding his own, didn’t work; in fact, more of them were fried, completely gone. It was the result of many strategic electromagnetic pulse bombs and a lot of unshielded mechanical items. That’s how apocalypse happened, or that’s how it was theorized. It still didn’t explain why the government and military had gone down too, or why a plague had to happen at that exact time.

The only problem was that Christophe didn’t remake a stove or a microwave, just his spy cameras, TVs, his own phone (which was actually more of a gift from Red, the other man had given Christophe the job of remaking the phone) and a computer or two.

Christophe had to go outside, grabbing a couple pieces of wood from the pile of wood that sat next to the back door of his house, before going back inside, walking straight to the old-fashioned iron stove he had been forced to use ever since Apocalypse. Tossing the two thinner sticks into the iron stove, on top of a multitude of thin sticks and old newspaper, Christope then reached into his pocket for his golden lighter. Snapping the lighter open and on, Christophe leaned down to face the stove’s open compartment, reaching in and lighting the newspaper on fire first, which quickly caught.

Christophe closed the compartment part-way, leaving about an inch of an opening as the rest of the newspaper caught fire, followed by the kindling. He then reached for the teakettle that was on top of the stove, lifting it and shaking it it, checking how much water was inside it. Not enough. Christophe turned to the sink, ignoring the envelope as it passed under his vision, then filling up the kettle until he judged there was enough water in it, then putting it back on the stovetop.
The fire was burning well enough by now, so while in front of the stove’s front compartment, Christophe closed it, making sure it would stay shut. After a quick trip outside to get a few more pieces of wood, bigger ones, Christophe came back into the house and dropped the chopped wood onto one of the two chairs that he had in the kitchen. Christophe was about to sit down in the other chair to wait for the water to boil, or to add another piece of wood to the fire, but then, from the surveillance room of his small house, the phone rang.

“Mon Dieu,” Christophe muttered to himself, and started making his way to the surveillance room to answer the phone, “Red has the worst timing.”

Christophe opened the door to the surveillance room and grabbed the phone, which was now uncovered and cleared of junk because of yesterday. “Speak.” Christophe commanded, falling into the chair in the middle of the room.

Red’s voice laughed on the other end of the line. “Commanding as ever, aren’t you. I’m calling to check that you got the money.”

“It’s on the counter.” Christophe replied, a bit boredly. “Do you not trust your own men?”

“Ah, I never trust one person with everything. Much less a new recruit.” Red admitted.

Christophe looked a slight bit enlightened, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette and his lighter. “I thought he was new. Didn’t turn up on time.” He mumbled, sticking the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

“He said he forgot the address, when he reported back over the phone.” Red informed Christophe. “You should really move to an easier-to-find place, you know. Like in the Amazon; or at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.”

“Heh. I’ll think about it.”

Almost as soon as the words left Christophe’s mouth, a loud whistling noise filled the air, alerting Christophe to the fact that the water he had set to boil had boiled already.

“What’s that noise?” Red asked, the whistling of the boiling water having filtered into the phone and down the line.

Christophe stood up and walked into the other room, the whistling growing louder and coming from the iron stove, before saying into the phone, “Tea.”

Red snorted slightly on his end of the line, but Christophe chose to ignore that as he pulled the boiling water off of the burner, set the hot teapot on the counter and quickly grabbed a fairly clean mug from the dish rack by the sink, then put the mug on the counter, lifted the teakettle and poured all the steaming water into the mug.

“Do you have something against tea, Red?” Christophe demanded amusement clear in his voice as he reached for one of the many boxes of teabags that were stacked haphazardly on the counter.

Red made a good show of acting appalled with merely his voice. “Me? Why, how dare you ask such a thing!”

Christophe smirked to himself as he selected a Bengal Spice mix tea and dropped the teabag in the steaming mug. “Exactly what I thought.”

“In any case,” Red continued, clearing his throat. “Will you need any of my help while infiltrating Angel’s headquarters? I want to know now, because you’ll have to pay for my help.”

Another smirk crossed Christophe’s face as he took the steaming mug from the counter and sat down in the rickety wooden kitchen chair. “I have no need of your help, Red. Just leave it to me.”

Red sounded a bit relieved. “Ah. Good. Well, I’ll leave you now, Luna is calling and we have to repopulate the planet.” There was a final click from Red’s end of the line, signifying the other man had hung up.

Christophe pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it disbelievingly. “Does he know the meaning of the phrase, ‘too much information’?” Christophe wondered to himself out loud, before shrugging and setting down the phone and spitting the cigarette, which he’d barely gotten use out of, on the floor and grinding it out with his booted foot.

Well, in the end, it wasn’t his fault Red was a pervert. Red was a paying customer, so no reason to criticize.

***

2003-11-15T01:53:00.000-08:00

I have an announcement.

I officially have put in the very least 5 people on the Hate List. And a lot more are a' headin' that way. I'm not mentioning the names of the people *hackcoughcuricough* but I can tell you now, People in general are starting to bug the hell out of me. Want to know why? Too bad, you're getting the answer anyways.

Have you ever been to school, noticed the cliques and the groups that won't talk to each other? The stupid childish rivalries over looks, different opinions, stuff like that?

Well, do you also know it seems to me to be a miniature replica of what pretty much anything will turn out to be?

That's why I'm starting to hate any community. Any socialization, anything like that. People go into groups and then make fun of other groups. Mercilessly. Being in one group is like, a license to make fun of other groups. Sure, there are good people who won't make use of that little permission slip.

But then come the inevitable Bad Eggs. The ones who wear out the permission, then join a different clique and do it over again. Trying to be important. To get attention. To be right.

But this little card if you will, its uses don't end in gloating use. No, there's also the use they have, where they allow one person to imprint their theories of right and wrong on another person. To try and spread their theory wide and far, to get other people to listen, to get other people to believe they are right.

And, I really don't have much else to say on the matter, other than the fact that, getting a taste of the overuse of this 'card', I'm really starting to hate the system.

If any of the people who pissed me off read this; If I snap, you will be the first to go. I know where you live, after all.

2003-11-14T00:15:00.000-08:00

It may be Maintenance, but it's good maintenance!

Mmyep, more story. mah word count has got past 1,000 now. last time it was like 688. I feel proud, now encourage me so I can get to the actual plot.

***

Eric panted heavily as he crossed the rocky terrain that surrounded the place he was supposed to go. Eric, who looked to be in his mid twenties, quickly checked his pants pocket, making sure the envelope his boss, Red Smythe, had given him hadn’t fallen out on the hike. Complaining quietly to himself, Eric muttered, “Do boss’s workers always hide away like this? God, Makes ya think they don’t wanna get paid.”

Having studied only the terrain near and under his feet, Eric didn’t notice the small town that was becoming slowly but surely visible, surrounded by a chain link fence. As soon as he saw he was on flat ground, Eric paused to dust the dirt off of his pants. He then looked up and saw the town, which was mostly housing where he was.

Eric made a squeaking noise as he looked at the many abandoned homes; now he understood why the Boss had said to memorize the address he had been given. Stupidly, Eric had forgotten.

“Christ, this guy’s sure paranoid…”

Walking through a large split in the town’s fence, Eric started thinking to himself about what the street and address he had been told was. What street, what street, wasn’t it named after a tree? Maple, Elm, Date, all of them could be right. And what was the address? 467, 426, something with a four and a six.

“Wonderful. Just great.” Eric groaned, running a hand through his hair. He might as well start looking.

And look, Eric did. Down any street with the name of a tree, any address with a four and a six in it, to no avail. 30 minutes later found Eric a bit lost and a bit cold, and more than a bit annoyed. Seriously, who lived in a deserted town alone? Crazy people, that’s who, crazy people who hated other people. Eric was about to turn back before his conscious reminded him that he’d told the boss he’d get the job done.

Eric sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair again. “One more house, then I’m splittin’.” He promised himself before glancing at his wristwatch, which was on its last legs as well as its last battery. It was 11:47, only a few more minutes until noon. He was supposed to deliver before noon. Ah well, what could a guy do.

Shrugging, Eric went to the first house he saw and didn’t check, the house turning out to be 464 Pine Street. He was going to check the windows first, he had gotten lazy and stopped knocking on doors long ago, but the windows either had cardboard over them, or were covered in black paint. Odd, but maybe it was just leftovers from people messily repainting their house before they abandoned it.

Well, better get it over with, then he could leave. Eric shrugged and knocked on the door, fully not expecting a response.

Of course, that means when there were various clickings on the other side of the door, signifying that things were being unlocked, Eric jumped in surprise. Quickly the messenger dug into his pocket and pulled out the envelope with the $300.00 in cash the Boss told him to deliver. From what little he knew, this Christophe person was not one to get on the bad side of.

The door opened, revealing a man, early 20’s or late teens, with brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a year or so and gray eyes. The man was dressed in a black turtleneck and tan cargo pants, and was holding a small gun of some kind in one hand.

Eric was surprised. This kid was Christophe? He was older than the kid, and Christophe already made a deal with the Boss to get $700. Eric wasn’t getting even $200 to deliver this message, and finding the right house had been hard. Of course, technically if he had listened in the first place, it would have been done faster, but that didn’t matter.

Christophe’s cold gray eyes narrowed slightly. “Finally,” He muttered, French accent making itself clear. “You’re late.”

A bit shocked, silently, Eric offered the envelope. Christophe took the envelope, opening it and checking the amount of money inside. Satisfied, Christophe turned and shut the door in Eric’s face, leaving the older man staring blankly at the painted wood, which was starting to peel.

Eric snapped himself out of it in less than a minute, then ran a hand through his hair once again. “Definitely paranoid.” Eric announced as he heard the locks click until they were locked on the other side of the door. The messenger shrugged and turned, muttering something that sounded like “Anti-social, too.” Before walking away, back the way he came, albeit without the side-journeys down other streets named after trees.

***

2003-11-13T14:50:00.000-08:00

Suffering...

... From aching heart syndrome. Not because I have heart problems, mind you, but because my little Dominatrix of a muse just broke me heart, shattering it, ect.

Mostly just because I can't think of a good end-of-the-world scenario that'd work for my NaNoWriMo thing. Suuure, i've got inspiration to spare on this little project, but damnit, how am I going to be able to knock out all the electricity then kill more than half of earth's populace in two blows like that, then have Christophe and the rest actually have techonology?

Bah, maybe I'm overthinking things again. But I'm not giving up on this one, nope. So I ask for help.

...So yeah. Help, please?

(For the people who don't understand, i was joking about my heart hurting. i'm not dying. so stop making funeral preperations and all that. oh, and stop preparing to try and steal my work. ha! caught ya!)

2003-11-13T09:06:00.000-08:00

Whoo! NaNoWriMo! Paar-tay!

Yeah, I finally got to writing. Whooo. I've settled on something vaguely post-apocalyptic. As for what the apocalypse was, I'll decide later.

I was going to post a warning here but then I decided against it. You have to be my bestest-best-best personal friendy-friend to get a glimpse at the chaos that is what I think about writing. Mmyep. pasting now.

---

Dusty light sneaked its way through a slatted window shade, into the small room filled with wires, small homemade and efficient spy cameras, surveillance TVs and computers, the wires interconnecting it all. An old leather chair sat in the middle of the floor, in the middle of all the machinery and looking like it belonged there. Sitting in the chair was a man, looking in his early twenties, messy brown hair looking messier than usual. An unlit cigarette hung out of the side of his mouth, even though he was asleep, arms crossed over his chest.

It would have been a fairly serene sight, for the next five seconds. The shrill ring of a telephone bounced across the room, waking the sleeping man harshly, who jolted awake and yelled something along the lines of, “Not the cigs!” he spoke with a French accent, not light nor too heavy.

Another bout of the Tellephone’s shrill ring, and the man relaxed back into his chair, sighing and muttering to himself before reaching out to sift through a pile of tiny spy cameras. After brushing a few aside, the man found the source of the noise and picked up the receiver, talking into it almost tiredly.

“Yes, Christophe here. What do you want?”

It took a couple second’s delay, but a static voice answered on the other end, an English accented voice. “Ah, Christophe! Good to hear you’re still alive. How are things going for you, eh?”

Christophe recognized the voice on the other end of the line, it was an old contact of his by the name of Red, but as for the question, it had to have been the stupidest one he’d heard in a while.

“Crappy.” Christophe replied, reaching into his pocket with his free hand for a lighter.

Red laughed on the other end of the line. “Ah, I walked into that. Of course, Nobody’s life has been good since the Apocalypse.”

Christophe snorted slightly. “How long did it take you to realize Apocalypse had happened?” He then snapped open the golden lighter in his hand, lighting the cigarette that somehow didn’t fall out of his mouth the whole time he had been talking.

“Three days after it happened, or so.” Red replied easily.

“Figures.” Christophe responded. “So, what did you want.”

Silence on Red’s side for a few moments, there was a shuffling of paper. “I want you to keep an eye on an organization.”

Christophe breathed out a cloud of smoke from the cigarette thoughtfully. “Rival of yours?”

“Yes.” Red continued. “They’re a group by the name of Angel. Now don’t let the name fool you. They’re dangerous.” There was a shift on the other end of the line, and Red sighed. “Makin’ weapons over there, they are. Plannin’ on getting everyone together and branding them, they’ll worry about freedom later, right now it’s just repopulating.”

Christophe smirked. “Now you’re fighting for freedom? Can’t have affairs when they’re keeping track of you like that, eh?”

Red snickered on the line. “For your information, Chris, I’ve got Luna. We’ve been together since the end, and throughout the new beginning.”

“Don’t call me ‘Chris,’ Mr. Changed man.” Christophe scoffed. “Alright, how much will you pay?”

More shuffling of papers. “Eh. How’s $200 at the start, $400 bonus at the end.”

Christophe grinned slightly. “Make it $300 for the first payment and you have a deal.”

Red chuckled. “Greedy bastard. Fine, you’ve got it. Don’t know why you need it, but you’ve got it. You’ll get your bloody $300 tomorrow.”

“Make sure it’s delivered before noon. I like to eat breakfast at noon.” Christophe bargained. Red chuckled again, and Christophe took that as a yes. After waiting to make sure Red hung up, Christophe did as well. Glancing at the clock, he groaned, then took another drag off of his cigarette.

“10:03 AM, that bloody Englishman got me up before 11:00…” Christophe muttered darkly to himself, spinning around in his leather chair to switch on a computer. Well, if he was up then, he might as well do something. He sure as hell wasn’t getting back to sleep.

2003-11-12T13:47:00.000-08:00

First and Foremost, I HATE Content

~~great, another contentful post~~
I'm not even going to say it.

Okay, now is where I ramble.

So. From what I know, Leonor is going through a hard time, so is worried more/more protective(?)/more sensitive/ect. than usual. Everybody else seems to think she's nuts/a 'bitch'/A bother/enjoys trolling/lies/accuses TCS people of bad stuff.

Mmm. If she's nuts, I haven't noticed it, if you're nice to her she's not a 'bitch' as curi put it (but then like everybody hates curi, so *shrug*), she's not a bother if you can be genuinely concerned, and who hasn't enjoyed trolling at least once? I haven't seen Leonor lie (might get information wrong but not lie), and I haven't, in all my time talking to her, been accused of being evil for being TCS.

And now that I've listed all that off, I'm going to go poke my eyes out with burning forks because 1) they hurt a bit and more importantly 2) Nobody's going to agree with me, in fact I'm most likely going to start up a giant flamewar/Hate-Leo curi-Camille-Alice-club. Again. God, I can't help but feel it's all my fault. I was the one who told Leonor what curi had wrote about her 1) being a 'follower' of Kolya (what is this, is everybody going pseudo-religious on my ass? DD is suddenly the god-like figure and Kolya is pure evil? WTF?!) and 2) not being as adoring of Video Games n' such as he is.

...this all started over a friggin post about VIDEO GAMES. Video Games. How in Jhonen Vasquez's hell did this escalate like this?! We started arguing about if it was okay to think that Video Games DO NOT teach about how to act in the real world, and it's turned from opinions, to criticism, to thinking Leo is nuts... ... excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!

Give. It. A Break. Stop moaning over it. I'm sorry I ever started this thing, especially over something as trivial as a god-fucking-damned VIDEO GAME. So there's a difference in opinions when it came to that... SO WHAT?! How important is it to you to be right?! Gah!

*Tugs out a few hairs from head* This whole argument is making people go and act completely Insane! Why can't we stop arguing for a minute, take a few steps back and take a breather, if it's not possible to just forgive? Why are you continuing trying to change a person when she's going to dig her heels in every step of the way? Why do you have to keep on hurting?? Why can't we just stop, cease, desist, give it a FUCKING BREAK?!

*pants, stops pulling out hair* *calmly looks at paragraph thing above this* and now that I reread that, I see that nobody's going to read, believe or so much as give another thought to that before dismissing it. It's silly of me to ask for peace, nobody will listen, emotional wounds go too deep.

Gah. Now I'm frustrated. Maybe I'll take my lovely Reviewer Yuta's advice, and write... oh yeah. Small amount of update, I wrote and posted an IZ songfic on FF.net. If anyone bothers to read, please review too. I love gettin' da Love.

2003-11-11T12:04:00.000-08:00

I’m not depressed.

Some people think I’m going to be because I read stuff like Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. Really now. Why would that make me one of the depressive masses? Look, it’s not a guide to damning yourself. I have been depressed before, and trust me, right now, I’m not depressed. I know you, the one who said that I’ll be depressed, will never read this, but I don’t care.

Hum… if you need more proof, there’s a few lines in the second JTHM strip. Let me quote it for you.

“Any pile of stunted growth unaware that entertainment is just that and nothing more, deserves to doom themselves to some dank cell, somewhere, for having been so stupid!! Movies, books, T.V., music – they’re all just entertainment, not guidebooks for damning yourself!” –Johnny, in a saner moment, I believe

So. Yes. The book itself says that books are not guidebooks for damning yourself. But then again, if you’re one of the one-celled organisms in the audience…

Now, this was supposed to be a post, pondering why I don’t like people all that much. But I guess I kinda changed my mind, huh? Rambling on about something else, mostly about the stupidityness of people who think other people are idiotic enough to go nuts over a book. *sighs a bit* ah well.

I think I’ll ramble about people in this paragraph. You see, I’m kind of annoyed. It’s probably just because I can’t breathe through my nose on account of being sick, but I’m still annoyed, and I guess I’m taking it out on the people around me.

Lately I’ve seen sparkling wonderful examples of people shoving their own opinions on other people. (Keep in mind, people, I’m not trying you get you to follow my opinions, you’re the ones choosing to read this.) Hell, I’ve gone back through my emails, and seen how other people seem to like pressing their opinions on me. Of course, I guess that’s hypocritical or something. But screw it, I’m complaining anyways.

Mostly, people talking about other people bug me. I’m seeing one-time friends being torn apart because they won’t shut up about each other. I’m seeing feelings and self-esteem crushed to bits over this. I’m seeing banning, uncalled for words, anger, hurt, people hurting others, people hurting others back. I guess maybe I’m seeing human behavior.

And here, I’m going to bash Camille again (not exactly bashing in my opinion, more like ranting over a difference in opinion, but lots of people could consider it bashing).

“But it is worth my time to figure out why my friend & I might of had a disagreement, and to find a solution that works for both of us. And this is because of our relationship to one another. And because of this relationship there will be compassion, trust, understanding and criticism even if there is still a disagreement.”

Now, what gets me is, she seems to think her way is right. Okay, fine. Go ahead and delude yourself into believing you’re right. God, people get me angry.

Look, Camille, I have friends with theories so different than mine on homosexuality, reading material, ect., but I’m not trying to convert them to my way, goddamnit. Mostly because I know it won’t help! Their theories are their own, and if I try to push my ideals onto them, I’ll lose them as a friend.

Sure, you might be asking yourself right now, why will I stay friends with people who don’t share all of my theories? That’s easy. BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE DIFFERENT FROM EACH OTHER!! I think their own ideas on some stuff is bad, but I can also understand how and why they’re different! Disagreements in relationships are inevitable, but that doesn’t mean you have to lose a friend over every time one comes up. If that’s how it goes, well, you’re not even going to have friends. For once why can’t people agree to disagree, even if silently?

*ehem* okay, I’m done with that little rant. Now for the next one.

Okee-dokee, Camille; you say you think TCS is flawed. I’m not completely sure on the whole philosophy (and yes, it is a PHILOSOPHY, not a ‘parenting method’), so I can’t agree or disagree. But, here’s the thing. Sure, it’s got flaws (What doesn’t?), but are you sure they’re flaws in the theory itself (sure there are some, but read), or the way to perceive the theory?

Whoo. That was a long post. I think I deserve a sandwich now. Later, people, and I expect comments. *wanders off*

2003-11-09T16:51:00.000-08:00

Mary-Sue: A goddess of a character possessing
ultimate beauty and unlimited strength? A
charming guy who can do any and everything?
They always save the day, they're so
perfect...and that's exactly why you hate them.
You actually sit there wishing for them to just
keel over and die or pray that they fall into
some kind of bottomless pit. You feel the
author is merely living a deluded fantasy
through their original character. Tells you how
much of a life they really have...

Fanfiction- What Genre is NOT For You
brought to you by Quizilla

Just felt like sharing. Yet more proof that I'll never make an Intentional Mary-sue unless she's making fun of the rest and/or is going to get shot into the sun/figured out and destroyed. So read my fics with original characters! Don't worry, they'll make mistakes and never need to be saved/save somebody else! ^^ In fact they'll die later on too, most likely.

...mmyeah. now I'm gonna go write s'more. Shwee, and away I go! *wanders off*

2003-11-09T01:50:00.000-08:00

Blah

I'm sick. So I feel kind of crappy atm. Need wonderful sleep... *ahem* Anyways. I'm not going to whine about being sick like Curi, though. Just informing you, don't bother me too much, being sick gives me one continuous headache for some...odd...reason.

Ahem. Yeah. Started a new fanfiction up, this time a RaPR. I tell you, I really need a new obsession. *sigh* Ah well, fics to write, fics to write, sleep to get, orange juice to drink, soup to scavange for...

...Er. Don't mind me. Being random. Mmyep. Anyways. Yes, people, head to my ff.net account and REVIEW!! I miss da luv!

And yeah. Hugs to Dan, me faithful stalker-boy. He reviews. ^_^

2003-11-06T16:58:00.000-08:00

Beware the Vacancy.

So, if you've looked at the last post, you'll see I've said the Ring frightens me. Yesterday I didn't get enough sleep BECAUSE of the Ring. I didn't sleep until somebody else got up. And then I had to go do somethin. Whoo. I'm a vacant Zombie-head.

except like, not undead. but yeah.

Anyways. Continuing on. I've actually started on something for NaNoWriMo. Hopefully inspiration will stay with me this time. That Little slut... *mumble*

Okee. So's yeah. I want votes from you, my readers (...wait, I have READERS?!), to tell me what you think. Should I post bits and pieces of the story on my blog when I write it, or does nobody care?

... I have a sneaking suspicion that the second answer will come into affect more. well. screw you, I'm probably going to post it anyways. vote anyways, damnit. shwee.

2003-11-05T18:10:00.000-08:00

Dear God WHY?!

So I think you should know, I'm not a horror movie person. Yet I watch the Ring. Am I completely nuts? I think I might just be.

The Ring is actually scary, to people like me. Of course if there wasn't stuff like freaky white Samara-eyes and Noa (did i spell his name right?) and that one other chick with screaming rotty faces, I'd be fine. I have no Psyche to Psyche out, so Psyche-ey movies don't scare me as much.

But there had to be the freaky junk. Oh yes, the freaky junk, the Freaky Junk that makes me glad I live on Elm Street. Yes I do know about the movie A Nightmare on Elm Street, that's what I made the reference for.

Ah well. Whatever, now I'm off to find a magnet. Between Me and My Lovely Dan, we've figured that since Samara originates from a tape, tossing a magnet or two at her will make her curl up into a ball and cry. So I'm going to hope, and try to stay away from the TVs. Yess, I'm paranoid. Whatever.

2003-11-04T12:58:00.000-08:00

Your Kung Fu is not strong (I watched The Core last night, shut up)

Sorry to bring up *gasp* real content again, you don't know how much I want to scratch out those two words and just go play Simpsons road rage mindlessly, but I can't really leave this alone for some reason.

Well, Camille has blogged about what she thinks about criticism n' stuff. it's the first blog entry, btw, so you'll have to scroll down if you bother following the link, or even read this.

Yeah. So. I'm going to gripe. Yaay.

"But it is worth my time to figure out why my friend & I might of had a disagreement, and to find a solution that works for both of us. And this is because of our relationship to one another. And because of this relationship there will be compassion, trust, understanding and criticism even if there is still a disagreement. "

*scratches head* Well, lets look at it from the person being 'criticised's view. She thinks she's being called bonkers and depressed. How in Hades is that criticism? I haven't really seen people explictly explain their views, either. I truely don't see how that's going to help at all, not explaining but criticising harshly.

And then we come back to the fact that help that isn't wanted isn't help at all. Look, nobody else might understand it, but to actually help, you have to have consent on both sides. One person to try and help, and another to listen and gain knowledge. Also, the person in question from what I understand is going through a rough time. Okay, has anybody been criticised on their whole views during a very ragged time? Do you know how much of a bother it is? How it can hurt, distract and fuck a person up? Trust me, criticism at the wrong times can really, really get a person down.

Camille, Leo had a point when she commented on your blog; is she, on your radar, a blip as bad as Hitler, or Saddam, or somebody who has actually killed? if you really, truely think so, I reccomend professional help.

Oh yeah, and your reccomendations? ...Seriously, you expect Me to watch Friends. ... You're serious. Okay, I'll watch Friends when you read Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, director's cut. Same goes to O.C.

...And now after that bashing session, I'll go do something else, maybe find something of nutrition to eat...

2003-11-03T14:05:00.000-08:00

Well Well Well...

Looks like curi's moved his blog. Too bad I won't be linking him, eh?

Well, not like anybody comes here to read about me anymore (Hello, I get google hits for SMOKING TOILET PAPER), but I'm updating ye olde *glances around at the 'audience', sees only two hobos snoozing in the back seats* ...uhh, hobos, of my situation right now.

I've joined NaNoWriMo, which nobody seems to know or care about. Wonderful, huh? Oh yeah, and as soon as I joined, any original works creativity I could have used left. Boom, just like that, left me sitting on my ass wondering, 'where'd the inspiration go?' Now I can't even work on any of my fanfics. Gargh.

Maybe I should write a story about some chick (alien or not, I don't know... Sci-fi kick, goddamnit, don't QUESTION the ALIENS) with no inspiration. Hah, inspiration outta nothing, go me.

Now if i can just write it...

2003-11-03T03:39:00.000-08:00

You're Devi...very cool. You are probably the
sanest insane person out there. You are doomed
to never find another soul you can connect
with. Luckily enough, the only thing you really
care about is painting. If you don't
paint...you go mad. GO YOU!

Famous quote "Wet Jimmy's Gourmet Assmeats! Do
this be pickup or delivery?"

What "Johnny the Homicidal Maniac" Character Do You Most Resemble?
brought to you by Quizilla

"Sanest insane"... ahh fuck.

well, whatever. time to sleep. shwee...

2003-10-31T17:46:00.000-08:00

Sob story of my life...

i didn't actually finish Moonlight Massacre by halloween. grrr.

ah well, i guess i can deal, had a good halloween. shwee! i'll update MM soon, though, have to finish it fast...

2003-10-31T17:44:00.000-08:00

I got my first MSN hit!!!

MSN Search: seeex and the city

hee! i feel proud! now, to rent a disney kids' movie and find the slashiest pair in it... *wanders off*

2003-10-31T00:08:00.000-08:00

Psychoxalen: Zoooooooooooooombiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeessssssss roooooooooooooooooooool!
Psychoxalen: Er, ruuuuuuuuule
Psychoxalen: whatever
Psychoxalen: brb, hehe
ArriesMetallium: *LOL*
ArriesMetallium: that was FUNNY
ArriesMetallium: dude, you like leaned on buttons to make that one word
ArriesMetallium: and you spelt it WRONG
ArriesMetallium: holy SHIT

...yeah, just had to post. XD soooo hilarious...

2003-10-29T14:04:00.000-08:00

Why must i be a slave to the TITLES?!

I've realized that like, none of my ff.net reviewers come here. figures, but it was a tiny bit disappointing to me. ah well, my failed attempt at getting more readers has...er...failed. so, no use whining over it, even though, er, that's what this paragraph was about. man i suck. -_-0

anyways, so. i don't really have anything to post. halloween is soon. i've made myself a challange, i'm going to try and get Moonlight Massacre done before or on halloween. ... can we say, doomed to fail? i thought so.

well, now i'm going to get some down time before i start with the writing. the wriiiiiting...

i have a feeling i'll be pulling another all-nighter. expect update soon, peoples!

2003-10-27T22:27:00.000-08:00

Man...

Some People really bug me. I'm getting depressed, are there no decent people in the world anymore?
...man, that's a stupid question. i doubt i'm decent, although i'm trying to be...why would anyone else be decent? gah. where's a new wall, i dented the usual one where i splatter my gray matter all over from massive head banging trauma.

it all seems to be about judging another person. why judge? sure, there are certain lines one can watch for, to see about some things in other people, but just judging the guy next door...well, do you know the guy next door, first off? then, do you know that the guy next door comes preset if you will with his own ideas, theories, beliefs, ect., and not yours? do you know that your theories have not been prooved the one and only truth yet? do you know that the guy next door has his own troubles, secrets, problems, and that he might be a bit messed up, but aren't we all?

it's starting to bug me. but maybe that's because i'm like a secret keeper, i guess. for at least a few people. i know classified stuff. stuff i'm supposed to keep private; stuff i will keep private. so, knowing these things, when i go into somebody complaining about another person who i know some secrets of (that could have been worded SO much better), i guess i get annoyed. it's just... yeah.

well, that ends my rambling of the day. maybe i can fall back asleep on the couch. or maybe the floor, this time...

2003-10-23T10:43:00.000-07:00

Another sucky day...

mouth was adjusted today. it's gonna hurt like hell the next days. i can tell.

i've gotten a grand total of one hit(s) today. and i'm pretty damn sure it was from me.

i have a story to edit when i'd rather be writing my own stories.

i haven't gotten any new reviews in a few days, which discourages me a bit.

my mouth Hurts.

advil rarely helps.

i can't eat.

i have a stomach ache.

i didn't get enough sleep.

i've pissed off the people closest to me because of something i said, meant in a more joking context.

christ, and now i'm blogging about something nobody cares about. what the fuck ever... *sighs*

2003-10-22T01:42:00.000-07:00

It figures. It just damn well figures.

Eyes have been opened, the light has been seen. And Christ, how the light hurts.

People are stupid. Prejudiced. Following their own straight and narrow and striking out at those who don’t follow. Fights, no, wars, get started that way. The inability to be nice or to forgive seems to be the problem.

Some people blame it all on the parents, some people blame it all on society, some people blame it on other people, it’s such a whirlwind of opinions, speeding, spinning, twirling, fighting hitting blasting killing painhurthateproblems one after the other after the other after the other with no way to stop the flowing river because some asshole had to break the dam and let it all loose.

I have a deep doubt that it will ever stop. Even the people who try to help, who say they’re trying to fight that, to bring around a new revolution… bullshit. They’re just as nasty to each other as everybody else. A web of lies, deceit, hate, hurt, prejudice, ect. It’s what humanity is. Just a big spider web of the nasty stuff.

People change. People always have and people always will. If people will change for the better? Don’t ask me. I don’t know anything, I’m just trying to find a path through this confusing mind-boggling world.

I don’t expect to be completely different from the other people myself, I don’t hold myself on a pedestal. I could be as nasty and deceitful as the rest, hating other people because of stereotypes, because of their looks, because of their behavior, anything.

That doesn’t mean I have to like it. That does not, under any circumstances mean that I have to shut up, to hold my opinion on this in. I do not like being persecuted for looks, behavior, age, stereotypes, whatever. I don’t think anybody does… why can’t people just be nice, for once?

For once, I’m tired of flame wars on the internet. People’s stupid misspellings and pitiful insults no longer hold any amusement for me. Neither do they get me riled up. They just make me want to repeatedly bang my head onto a wall. Hate is the same way. Homophobics, ageists, racists, sexists, anti-porn people, anti-masturbation people, anti-religion people, religious preachers. They’re all so alike. So … brain-damage worthy, I guess. I know I’ve come close to the loss of five brain cells… many a time.

I don’t really know what else to say and/or ramble about…*scrolls up* hey, I’ve actually written something with ~~content~~ my own opinion in mind. Mmyeah… go me. I think I’m going to go do something else for a while, now I feel kind of angsty. Ahh. Headbanging, that always helps me feel better.

*repeated noise of heat hitting table*

2003-10-21T09:15:00.000-07:00

Screw you, School System

the title has nothing to do with the post at hand.

shit, i've been gone a long time, haven't i? ah well. updates, then off to do other junk, then will probably blog again later... yeah. my day is a biiiit boring.

okee-dokee peeps, chapter eight of the Sky is Crying is up (not like this is going to get me any more reviewers but i don't give a shit), chapter two of The Moonlight Massacre Mansion is up, and three is in the works. if i can ever get to writing it before sundown. eheh, yeah. chapter nine for tSiC is being planned out in my head, and some vague bits of comedy are going to come in now more than ever. reviews help make things loooong, so review if you are a fan, because i shall thank you with a long chapter.

aaand the comedy fic i've promised? i'm working on it, haven't been feeling very funny lately. but, i'll tell you this much (... you who, i wonder, i don't get any readers from ff.net), it involves one of the most-used gimmicks in ZaDRs... reversed. take a guess, people, take a guess.

and now, to do STUFF!!! ... *Wanders off*

2003-10-13T17:49:00.000-07:00

Insert a Title here.

and i'm baaaaack!

...what? you didn't miss my rants and ramblings? ... damn. now i cry.

aaanyways, i have a new FF.net fanfiction up. IZ again. please don't shoot me for regularity. anyways, the link is here. for some reason it's not showing up on the main page. so, if anybody who actually watches Invader Zim actually comes across my blog and feels like reading a one-chapter story (although other chapters are in the works...goooore... actually i hate gore...), go and review! ...puh-leeze?

i haven't been able to write more on my JTHM story thingier, inspiration for that's died down a bit... i should read the comics again. and the Sky is Crying, man, do i want to work on that! i've had so many ideas, but christ. the matinence. the maaatinence. you'd think i'd be in an angsty mood because of class and all that (yes. i'm taking an art class. it kinda sucks..), but nope... ah well. and in other news, yet MORE inspiration for a RaPR has come up. in fact i already made a kind-of mary-sue character that i'd kill off/shoot into a sun if i wrote a RaPR with her in it because after a while she wouldn't be needed. ... um, yeah. i have a thing with making original characters.

*rubs eye* and i don't have much else to say. i'd paste some of something but i don't really have readers so it wouldn't matter anyways. my 'web page' of sorts, of which all matinence is credited to Lulie, has been updated a bit but i still don't like it and reeeally wish i knew HTML myself... uh... uh... i dunno. stuff has happened. i'll leave it at that. Mmyep. gonna go do stuff now.

2003-10-10T04:26:00.000-07:00

Goodbye for now.

lately a lot of crap has been going on in my life. i haven't been feeling that well, really. i feel stressed out, badly. and the computer really isn't helping. i'm going to take a break from virtual reality and live my life a little. i won't be online for the next few days, so, later. have a good time without me.

Edit (vaguely important): okay, so i was wrong. i can't resist my computer, no matter how much it makes me feel worse. christ, i'm pathetic. so, i'll still be around. not like anybody cares... i mean, look; i got no comments on my blog at all, and people only come here on purpose if i tell them to. i'm not important, nobody really likes me. shit. i think i'm going to go play a shoot'em up now.

2003-10-09T03:41:00.000-07:00

I'm bored.

so, i figured i'd post this snippet of JTHM/Squee! fanfic type goodness. there would be some IFS in there too, but i didn't get any IFS... er. well. read, if you know what the hell i'm talking about, comment, and tell me if i should continue or just go lock myself in a room and bang the hell out of my brain cells.

---

Finally, he was on a plane away from the assholes that had filled the city
he lived in before, back when he lived in house 777, next to the scared
little neighbor boy, Squee.

Johnny, or Nny as he let his friends call him, sighed happily, reclining in
his airplane seat. Sadly, he couldn't block out the noise of people talking
yet with headphones; the plane wasn't in the air. But it was all good.

Nny didn't bother paying attention to the people around him, instead he
reached into his backpack (which was under the seat in front of him) and
drew out a pen and a pad of paper before commencing to scribble maniacally.
He barely even looked up when the person who had reserved the window seat
next to him crept into the seat. As the plane finally took off, Johnny had
already made a layout for the next Happy Noodle Boy comic. More frantic
scribbles, on different pieces of paper, churned out another comic page
layout. And another.

It took a few minutes, but soon Johnny could feel the plane level out. The
'seatbelts on' light had gone off. So he figured it safe to listen to his
music by then. Nny reached into his backpack once again, this time taking
out a pair of headphones and a portable CD player. Johnny slipped the
headphones over his ears and switched the CD player on, glad to block out
the human noise.

But of course, somebody didn't want him to. The man next to him, in the window seat, a middle aged man with graying hair, said in a loud and annoying voice, “You can't do that!"

Nny paused, and turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "Why not?"

"The volume's too looud! I can hear it over heeere!" The guy whined. "And that band sucks; only homos listen to that band."

Johnny's eye twitched. "It's a mixed CD, for your information!" He shrieked before pulling out the ever-present knife he had in his boot and lodging it in the guy's eye socket.

"Oh my god, you bastard! That was my husband!" a woman with platinum blonde hair, obviously dyed, on the other side of the isle stood up. "I didn't really like him but you killed him! You’re wacky!"

"Wacky?! WACKY?!?" Johnny's eyes got a psycho gleam in them. Further down the isle, people were starting to stare. Whispers were passed around, and Johnny heard 'wacky' in quite a few of the whispers. The word echoed around the plane, enraging Johnny more with each utterance. Finally, with the homicidal maniac's shriek of "SHUT UP!!" Johnny grabbed the knife, pulled it out of the guy's head with a sickening shllick sound, and then tossed it at the platinum blond, where it imbedded itself in the middle of her forehead with a thunk.

The rest of the plane ride would send quite a few souls down to Senor Diablo's basement.

---

How many years had it been? Cooped up, being drugged regularly until he couldn't always tell reality and dreams apart? Shmee barely ever spoke anymore. The teddy said he was too full when he did speak, that he couldn't process all of the insane-making things so fast without being tired. Todd Casil, more widely known as Squee, stared up blankly at the ceiling of his white padded prison. There was nothing to do. They wouldn't allow him sharp items to draw or write with, hell; they wouldn't even give him paper for fear of paper cuts. Everything he did was monitored. Definitely a prison. If the drugs, the other inmates, and the councilors didn't make him go insane, boredom surely would.

"Psst! Todd!"

Squee blinked. Struggling in the grip of the straight jacket securely tied around him, the boy, now about 13 looked around the cell. "Shmee?" Squee questioned.

“What? No! It’s me, mi amigo!”

Squee’s eyes went wide with surprise, and a bit of worry. “Pepito? What are you doing here?” Squee hissed, sitting up and looking at the barred window, where, lo and behold, the Anti-Christ was watching.

“I’m here to break you out of this hellhole! Souls of the Damned actually do live here half the time, you know.” Pepito commented.

“What’s the catch?” Squee asked, raising an eyebrow. Sure, he wanted to get the hell out of the asylum, but there was always a catch.

“I want you to join the Soulless Dark Armies belonging to Father.” Pepito replied carelessly.

“Um, Pepito, that’s cheating. You know I want to get out of here.” Squee pointed out.

Pepito grinned, red-and-purple eyes flashing with something like triumph. “Of course it is cheating, exactly the point, mi amigo! So, going to join or what?”

The Anti-Christ raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet when Squee looked at Shmee and asked, “What? No, Shmee, setting people on fire is bad! Yes, it would be easier if I joined the dark armies… no! They’re not bad people, they’re trying to help. Well, if you say so…” Squee turned his innocent, slightly worried gaze back to Pepito, and said the one word he wanted to hear; “Yes.”

---

... heheh, that sucked. i don't think i kept the characters IC enough. I like Squeegee. he's afraid of stuff. like me. just because they're not ALL out to get me doesn't mean more than half are. and i don't own ANYTHING!! NOTHING!! NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING!!! Johnny the Homicidal Maniac and Squee, and the rest are all copyrighted to Slave Labor Graphics (San Jose, CA) and the Almighty Thinnest (yes i'm part of the IZ fancommunity too) Jhonen Vasquez!

and now, to wrap up this post, i shall paste something i've written, and then go to sleep.

(I = Interviewer, S = me)

I: what brought on this horrible, horrible hate for society?

S: nasty people, being beat up as a kid in a McDonald’s playplace, those places are evil you know, and TCS.

I: ah-hah. So, what’s your sexual preference?

S: um? What business is it of yours?

FIN

2003-10-08T03:46:00.000-07:00

That's IT!!!

I'm sorry, all you slash-hating people out there, but i have to blog about this!!

there is not enough Time Squad slash fanfic out there. i know, you're by now looking at me odd. "Time Squad? what's that?" ... oh wait, no. that's my friends. i know, you're looking at me odd, "Time Squad slash, but it's a kid's show!" ahh, but that's what you think. a yaoi-bitch like me notices any slashy flavor, as vague as it might be. and i tell you, when it comes to slashy-flavor, the Larry 3000 is a prime candidate for a slash fanfiction. he's so friggin' girly! i swear!

He cooks. he cleans. he sews, he does aerobics. he has an english accent *ducks flying objects from all the English people in the audience and continues talking*, he's motherly to Otto, he's practically the mother figure, he's only really admired females (that one episode with Cleopatra in it, remember?) for their fashion sense... need i go on, or do you need to throw more stuff at me? *gets hit with old tomato, yells out Happy Noodle Boy-ish phrase* I SEE NOW THAT IT IS A SPY MOOSE! YOU'VE BROKEN MY SECRET ELBOW!!

ehem. anyways. and Tuddrussel's and Larry's constant fighting, well. i know, i know, it's just a kid's show--STOP THROWING STUFF AT ME!!--but i can't help but see the slashy potential. you don't want to see what i can do with Kim Possible, amigos.

and now that i've said my part on there not being enough Time Squad slash, i want to be hit and have comments, people, puh-leeeeazze? if you're not a regular reader and/or know what Time Squad is, puh-leeaze leave a comment! i don't care if it's a flame! i don't care if it's praise! i just want a comment or two! comments for the poor, comments for the poor!!

and also, i own nothing of which i spoke of. don't sue me, i'm funny. ... argh, that's not even my line! i own nothing, you hear me?? NOTHING!!

2003-10-05T00:50:00.000-07:00

it's not yesterday anymore!

and now Ah'm gonna go get a bagel. and i shall eat one cup of ramen tomorrow, in my crazy-ass plan to lose weight.

back i am. i ended up with a bagel sandwich. and now i'll talk about JTHM and Squee!, and how cool they are, and how i've already drawn fan art, and also... how i must make a slash fic, being the yaoi bitch i am.

okay, where should i start? maybe when my bro isn't trying to read over my shoulder. i'll continue this post at 1 AM.

well, i got my brother to go away sooner than expected, so i'll ramble now. Squee and JTHM are very, very cool. i can relate to Squee more, though, i'm a lot more phobic than i am homicidal. i'm pree-eetty sure of that. i could go on and on about how cool each comic is, but i've got a bigger delemma.

am i going to write a JTHM/Squee!-type fanfic (most likely with slash in it), or am i not going to? i've already got like a million ideas for some of the fics. like, i could do the send-Squee-to-Hogwarts thing and have Johnny end up in england some time and dramatically mutilate and kill Draco Malfoy... or i could send Johnny himself to hogwarts (idea inspired by; Dan)... or i could have a JTHM/KP crossover, and have Johnny try and kill Bonnie (who died her hair black) for looking too much like a cheerleader he's seen before (Satan's other form was eeeevil!), or have Johnny just go off and try to kill KP for being a cheerleader in general... or i could write a South Park/JTHM fanfic, where Johnny ends up killing Cartman who somehow comes back to life in the next chapter...or i could just write a JTHM fanfic with slash in it or something... and then end up with Jhonen hiring an assassin to come after me...

gah! too many ideas! head - overloading! need - relaxation! and - votes - on - what - to - dooooo! somebody, anybody, help meeee!! and comment for god's sake, i've had to ask for all the comments for the past week or two...and not even more than four or five google hits...

well, screw it. i've ranted/rambled long enough. i've got a bagel and i've got TV. must go watch. ... ah'm gonna go check what time Time Squad is on, for the hell of it...

oh yeah. Elfwood site updated, got the notification earlier...um...yesterday. goddess, i keep on forgetting that today was tomorrow and... augh, brain not working! shit!

again, screw it. i'm gonna go do something else. comment, people!

2003-10-04T23:59:00.000-07:00

Meh Neh Nah...

so, i've read them. both. Squee is cool, but i feel sorry for him, poor boy living next to a maniac, and going to a school where Mrs. Bitters is still alive (gasp! her! the doomwitch!), with the closest thing he has to a friend, the Anti-Christ. poor, poor Todd Casil...

Johnny is cool. very, very cool. in a very, very completely insane way. i'm not sure i picked up all i could from the Director's Cut, i should probably read it again, but yeah. Johnny's cool. a little problem with anger management, and insanity-management, but still cool. i shall have to write a JTHM fanfic.

well, i'll post more later, after midnight. i just wanted to post today and then i found myself in a race against the clock. damn you, clock, go slower!

...yeah.

2003-10-03T16:51:00.000-07:00

Whee-hee-hee-hee!!!

i've gotten them! i've gotten them! *hops around in a circle*

okay, maybe i should explain. if you're a constant reader (me? have a constant reader? ha!), you'll have seen the old post where i posted a quiz result. in that post i also mentioned i was going through a Jhonen Vasquez obsession time thingie. well, it continued. i knew Jhonen had did other stuff before Zim, i just wasn't as interested in it as i was with IZ. but that changed in the obsession time. i started searching for JTHM sites and other stuff by J.V., and soon i figured, well, hell, i should just buy the comics, yes?

so. i got two things made by Jhonen, JTHM, Director's cut, and Squee's wonderful big giant book of unspeakable horrors. and they've finally came! wheee!

i won't be updating for a while. too busy spead-reading. then watching TV, then reading the comics again. this whole process should take me about a day. so, have fun without me, folks! ... no, actually, don't. miss me, folks! *cackle*
... i'll go now.

2003-10-02T16:52:00.000-07:00

dream log

the feel was disgusting. Slimy, almost warm, slippery and it gave if you pushed. Red came away with my hand. Oh god it was disgusting. I had been pushing the zombie's mouth away in the dream, i know it. the worst part was that it had no lips. disgusting slippery blood-coated flesh that gave under my hand when there should have been lips there.

i remember part of the dream the most; the ending part. the rest i've forgotten.

almost like in the Resident Evil movie, i was in a team and the team was breaking into underground labs. the different part was that i knew in the dream i was more like Jill, from the resident evil game for gamecube. but anyways, the team had broken in. we were walking down stairs, you know those ones that go round and round for a long time and it takes forever to get to the bottom? and the team wasn't worried at all, really.

we got downstairs, into something that looked a bit like a department store. music started blasting out of speakers, i can't remember the tune though. i was the last one down the stairs. the team leader was waiting for me at the base of the stairs, he said something to me but i can't remember what. myself and him then walked into a less-explored part of the department store. somehow we found survivors, and they were acting normal enough... then the team leader said something about having to talk to me, and pulled me into one of the cheap little dressing rooms that only had a sheet for the doorway. i think he told me, something seemed wrong, and then there was a yell, from one of the other team members. i loaded my gun, and so did the team leader, and i lunged out to pull in one of the survivors with us. in the dream, i knew that the survivor was a zombie then, her skin gone a disgusting red with skin bits falling off, rotted, and scabs everywhere, but i couldn't stop pulling her into the dressing room by then, too much momentum. i fell on the floor; so did she. twisting, she tried to bite me, my neck, my arm, any part of me. i squirmed as well, and she couldn't. one time she got too close, that's when i reached out to stop her.

my hand had hit her face. disgusting near-warm flesh under my hand, slimy, slippery blood coated my hand as i tried to push her away. it was about that time in the struggle that i woke up.

that has been, by far, one of my freakiest dreams ever.

2003-10-02T14:25:00.000-07:00

Some reviewers you guys are...

just some random updates. i've posted chapter seven of the Sky is Crying, and i've gotten a major total of...one review on it. i've also posted another story, Problems from the Sky... it ties into the Sky is Crying... and INVADER VEZ IS NOT I REPEAT NOT GOING TO BE A MARY-SUE!! SHE'S GONNA BE SENT TO EARTH TO KILL ZIM AND ULTIMATELY FAIL and NOT under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES IS SHE GOING TO FALL IN LOVE WITH THE TALLEST OR ZIM OR DIB, GOSHFRIGGIN'JESUS-ON-A-POGO-STICK-MAKING-FRIENDS-WITH-THE-ANTI-CHRIST-IN-A-HAILSTORM-DAMNIT!!!

*deep breath* okay, and now that we're through that... i also have some pictures in queue on elfwood to be put up. so that's a'being updated too. keep a lookout, amigos.

lately, i've been feelin' the need to write a RaPR; kind of odd considering i'm still working on the Sky is Crying, yes? well, i'm gonna write a RaPR as well. i thank Mike for the first idea for the RaPR, even though when i asked at the time he didn't know that Red/Purple was a slash fic ... thinger. yeah.

well, anyways, i want encouragement for at least one of my fics... mah inspiration's dying without it. dying dead. meh. need food now.

Edit: two FF.net reviews now, ah'm turning back into a happy writer...^^

2003-09-29T13:40:00.000-07:00

Well. Since blogger's not the one being a bitch i decided to blog s'more. another attempt at getting some more google hits.

i'm now going to list the sentences i think of when one says 'very popular search subject'.

Hilary Duff Naked
Acocdrnig to an elgnsih unviesitry sutdy
Goatfuckers
Masturbation
how to combat masturbation
masturbation heat nausea
actual masturbation
"naked hilary duff"
curiosity
porn

and a favorite people don't necessarily get hit by often...

GAYFLEX

thank you Dan, for that lovely lovely typo....thingie. and this concludes my list. hit meh!

2003-09-29T13:14:00.000-07:00

Nooooooo! come back to me, word, come baaaack!!

Look! just look at my horrible luck! mock it! laugh at it! do something to my horrible luck to make it change!!

...*pant*pant* okay, i'm calm. i'm calm, i'm calm... NO I'M NOT!! AUGH!!! WORD QUIT ON ME!! It'S StOpPeD wOrKiNg!!! and just when i get inspiration to continue the Sky is Crying! how...fucked, is that? tell me, audience, tell me! gaugh!! *starts banging on computer with fist before being dragged away by various people/friend/fans*

Edit: and please don't suggest restarting the computer. it hasn't helped the past two times, and trust me, for me, third time is not the charm. three is not my lucky number.

2003-09-28T17:29:00.000-07:00

Dan's gone.

and that's one reason i haven't been blogging. all lonely nows 'cause he's gone, and he's s'posed to be home now, but i haven't heard a peep out of him. or a whine. or some other random noise. maybe he's off being gay with Mike. that's what he said he'd do when he got back to his li'l ole' homey-home...

but Gah! i miss the guy.

also, i think my muse has been worked to death. because my inspiration to work on the Sky is Crying has disappeared. i'd love for some ideas how to get the fic moving again, but yeah... no miracle reviewers yet. yep, i'm too hopeful for my own good.

in other news, i've seen two plays just yesterday; Comedy of Errors (really funny!) and Little Shop of Horrors (not as funny but pretty good. *cackle* Audrey II funny!). i liked the Dromios. very much. them two reminded me of Baldrick (from Blackadder), and they were the best liked in the play. now my only wish is to see a Midsummer Night's Dream again... ah, who doesn't like faeries... Puck especially...

well, this post was fairly pointless. i was originally going to post the word 'Masturbation' over and over again and see how many google hits i get since i currently only have two, but as you can see, i've only mentioned the word once. hm.
-.-;;;

And now i'm gonna say t'all you who actually have clicked over here from FF.net... if you've read the Sky is Crying... *falls to knees* pleeeease!! review it and give me ideas on where to go from where i am! pleeeeaaaaase!! please oh please oh pleeeease?! or you could comment or email me with an idea, but please O wondrous creative fans, help me!

and that's that. now, for the main reason i started this post...

Masturbation!
Masturbation!
Masturbation!
Masturbation!
...Literary-Masturbation!

2003-09-26T00:03:00.000-07:00

Hah, turns out I can't take criticism after all.

"redd-cliff-rhapsody? HAHAHA! THAT PERSON WAS SMOKING TOILET PAPER WITH GLUE WHEN THEY MADE THEIR NAME!! OMG and that review... doesn't the person have a BRAIN?" ... even if the coward wasn't brave enough to leave an email, even if they were coward enough to not talk to me personally about it, it pisses me off that they would jab at my ff.net screenname. Obviously they've never been to where I have.

A couple of days ago I was angry at the world in general, completely pissed off. I took my anger out on a person on Fanfiction.net who cannot spell, and who, most people I’ve asked have said, made their eyes burn. That was my first main mistake and I do feel sorry for it. Not for what I said, though, I don't find millions of typos pleasant. I felt better after that, even if I knew I was going to get flamed for it. I know I have an anger management problem. Feel free to help me think of a better way. But continuing on.

So I flamed. I know it was stupid. I do stupid things. I was also encouraged. I hate gang behavior sometimes. But to be flamed back over a story entirely in netspeak?

The worst part is that they flamed my name. I’m sure that person's never traveled out of their little inbred town, or they might just understand where the screenname comes from. Also, for the flamer above, even though I know the little twerp won't even see it, toilet paper goes up in flames too easy to smoke and glue is not something I’m fond of getting high off of. And yes, I do have a brain, or I wouldn't be trying to be nice right now. Again, I know I was wrong for flaming.

I know my review was nasty. I was in a nasty mood then. I take back some of the things I say, but I do say the spelling needs work. Unlike some people I’m not into creative writing. Keeping people in character is a big thing also; it's a good thing to work on if you choose to write a fan fiction. And to the author, no, out of character is NOT what everyone says when they're a homophobe, it's what people say when the author makes the character do something completely out of character, like for example, have Stan suddenly kill himself for no reason. It makes no sense for the character to do that, now, does it? A good story takes a lot of work. I’m merely wishing the author would work harder on spelling and grammar techniques as well as keeping characters in character.

But obviously criticism is not acceptable to anyone, so I should just shut up. In fact, I probably should. I feel like killing some zombies now... later.

2003-09-25T22:12:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah!

whoever got my site for "when u get stung by scorpion does it mean death?", it depends on the scorpion type. if you do get stung by a scorpion, well... i don't remember much about how i was treated when i got stung, but i myself would advise going to a doctor. oh, and, dispose of the scorpion.

that is all.

2003-09-25T22:06:00.000-07:00

Today, i have nothing to say of intelligence, so...

i shall tell you of my new desktop picture. i always make my own desktops, you see, because i got bored with the choices i had before. but, not the main point.

a couple days ago, i made a 'toon Jhonen Vasquez desktop background. one thing you should know about all of my desktops, i always have to have a port-o-potty in the desktop somewhere. a good example is my last desktop picture of Marilyn Manson in front of a port-o-potty. but, i have a toon Jhonen Vasquez desktop. go me! he's inside a port-o-potty this time. the only problem is, i'm running out of port-o-potty pictures. ah well, i'll just have to find a port-o-potty to take pictures of...

and now that i've told y'all that, i have nothing much to talk about, unless you want me to rant about how stupid and turned-around theories are on why stuff happens for what reason, like eating disorders and other stuff like that. of course my opinion doesn't count for much, but still. well, if ya wanna read my rant, just comment and say that you do. if you don't...well, too bad.

i think that's about it. enough rambling. TV time!

2003-09-24T15:39:00.000-07:00

Ranting Rambles

People kinda suck. There’s not much more to it. Everyone seems to have a fear of change, a fear of difference, even me. But, unlike the other people, I’m trying to break out of my fear of change and difference. Sometimes it doesn’t work, and sometimes it does. But the thing that gets me is when other people don’t even try to change, for better or for worse. But I guess that comes from the fear of change thingie.

Normally I would fly off on a rant about how stupid and annoying humankind is. But I can’t anymore. I don’t know why, but I have changed, and mindless rants… I don’t think I can write them anymore. Gah. Damn the needing a reason for everything…thing.

In other news, I was ignored today. Not that surprising, but whatever. My friend responded to my AIM of ‘yo’ with some screaming about a band emailing her. because they were semi-famous. And not because she emailed them first, no, they emailed her after looking at her website. I guess I’d be a bit excited if the same happened to me, but I look down on that behavior now for some reason. I guess the idea just kind of lost its novelty after I figured out superstars were just other people, other people who I probably wouldn’t know in real life otherwise anyways. But, anyways. After she screamed about the band, she promptly left to ignore me.

Ah, but of course there are some famous people I actually want to be in communication with. I’m not completely unsympathetic. I’ll just have to be the one to start up a conversation between me and that celebrity, if I can find their email in the first place. I don’t plan to be like a psycho fan, I just want to talk to these people and see what they’re like. Other than that, my only wishes are to read their stuff.

Bah, yes I know I’m less hyper then all my other posts. Blame it on lack of sleep. I keep on waking up sleepy… ah well. need sugar. Guess this be the end of my blogging for today.

More correct spelling and capitalization brought to you by the program Word.

2003-09-18T15:48:00.000-07:00

Which Jhonen Vaquez character are you? By EmReznor.

had to share.

since you probably couldn't tell from my blog which i post in but rarely about interesting subjects, i've been on a slight Jhonen Vasquez kick for a while. i guess it's cause i have a weird sense of humor, and also because halloween stuff is being set out in stores... because halloween is my favorite holiday. go halloween! where the veils between worlds are (supposed to be) thin!! where people dress up and get candy!! where i've never had a good costume, ever!!

speaking of that, i should be planning my costume. eheh, yes, i probably am a bit 'old' for halloween... but don't lie and say you never liked it!

Edit: okay, i've noticed the damn picture isn't showing up. grrr. ah well, i'll tell you what i got. instead of getting one of Jhonen Vasquez's characters, i got, on the quiz, Jhonen himself. and that's all. go on with your life, people.

2003-09-16T01:43:00.000-07:00

Quizzies!

Jolly good, wot! Anyone for tennis? That'll be ten ponies, guv. You're the epitome of everything that is english. Yey :) Hoist that Union Jack!

How British are you?

this quiz was made by alanna

... huh. and i was guessing half the time. go figger.

Which flock do you follow?

this quiz was made by alanna

I didn't know i was a sheep in the first place!! ... i thought i was a lemming that jumped onto the bandwagon!

You should be a Sagittarius, your Independent,
honest, optimistic, and good-humored, but you
can be rebellious, irresponsible, and sometimes
a little careless.

~*What is your TRUE Zodica sign?*~
brought to you by Quizilla

... go figure. i was born a Sagittarius, and i came out as a Sagittarius.

Severus Snape

Who is your HP boyfriend?
brought to you by Quizilla

<.<;;; not going to ask...

You are *Frank*! You are the star of the show! You
are definitely a performer although you can get
stroppy if you don't get your way. But you are
sexy, charming and rather naughty. Ditch the
pearls though...

Which Rocky Horror Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

*cracks up*

You are Purple. As the stupider of the Almighty
Tallest, you seem to care even less about
anything besides snacks, sodas, and
entertaining yourself at the expense of others
than does Red. Your likes include puppet shows
and smoke machines; your dislikes include the
Megadoomer and lasers.

The Greatest, Most Advanced Invader Zim Character Profiling Quiz EVER!!!
brought to you by Quizilla

*talks with mouth full* again?

and that concludes tonight's post. yes. quizzes. love the quizzes. take the quizzes. COMMENT on the quizzes.

2003-09-15T13:27:00.000-07:00

End.

okay, so it's not really the end, sorry to disappoint all you lovely readers. i felt like doing a poll similar to Dan's, yet i have nothing to poll on. i dunno, maybe i should make a quiz instead...? ah well. um. just give me a second...

okay, i got one. Why do you not comment?

A) because you suck and i was just looking for a scorpion sting remedy,
B) because i don't like you,
C) because none of your posts have actual content,
or D) because i'm a lazy ass.

for once, just comment. ... ehh, okay, so you don't have to, but at least go read and review one of my fanfics.

2003-09-15T00:53:00.000-07:00

...what do you mean the title recorder's on?!

here is the follow-up to the post before. merely becasuse i wanted to top Dan. even if it's like, longer than his. it's gonna be worse, mark my words!!

---Start your Meeses!---

once apon a time, their was a d00d h0 met his l0v 0n tha net. here is scrypt of they're meeting:

curi: omfg u r so purty

toad: omfg u r 2!

curi: do u kno wat?

toad: wat?

curi: i think i l0v u

toad: i think i l0v u 2

curi: want 2 fuck?

toad: o k rase u 2 tha bed!

they fucked and lifed happyly 3vr 4f+r.

---END---

and just to beat Dan and toad,

dude: *blowjob*

2003-09-15T00:40:00.000-07:00

The worst porno ever, worst than toad's and curi's.

Once upon a time, there was a guy with the screenname toad, and a guy with the screenname curi. they met. they fucked. the end.

2003-09-14T23:50:00.000-07:00

In other news...

i haven't been able to go through with my dare. sorry curi, you're gonna have to wait another day for a log.

2003-09-14T23:42:00.000-07:00

I'm running out of witty titles here...

I've got nothing to post. Completely nothing. And i think i might be starting to capitalize. oops, nope.

i've been to the bogwaters of ff.net again, and i'm amazed with how many fanfictions for each fandom there are. i swear, anything under a hundred fics is a minority. they even have Berserk fanfictions. Berserk, btw, which is a hella good anime. and i don't really care if it's the subs or what, but Griffith is so taken with Gatts. i swear! but i turn my sights on a different pairing, one much different from the usual... one not even really suggested in the series, because it's between minor characters... one that grosses people out because of what seems to be a huge age difference.

Aaaand i've only told like two people about my special pairing, so don't expect me to post it here. also, by the way, Judeau is really, really cool. but none of my fanfictions are really going to be focusing on him, because everyone else likes him too. if i...er...ever get around to writing a Berserk fanfiction at all.

now, just for a shout-out, yo dude, you know who you are, and don't worry, i'm not going to spam you if i ever actually write a berserk fic.

and you other dude, yeah, you, pervytoad! i know already damnit! those berserk CDs are mine!!

and now i have nothing else to write. i guess i'm gonna work on my IZ fanfiction...tSiC is getting many a good review... or maybe i'll raid the kitchen and get fat off of my findings... fat and happy cause of reviews... that sounds agreeable, yes?

2003-09-13T22:18:00.000-07:00

WTF do you want from meeee?!

and yet again the title has NOTHING to do with the post at hand. i swear. to god. also, man you people suck! how many comments did i get last time? three! tHrEe!!!

ah well. moving on. lately i have been watching a TV show on Comedy Central (wonderful channel to y'all who actually watch it and read my blog too) called 'I'm With Busey.' what can i say? this show is interesting. also, it's just my fangirlish mind at work here, but they so act like they're married. in a very odd, almost abusive marriage, but a marriage nonetheless. in fact, one time i think they even went to a marriage councilor.

My conclusion is that they either have a very together relationship, or that they’re semi-gay and don’t know it. I myself think it’s cute. And I know it’s kind of a bad thing to ramble on about. I’m probably gonna be sued or something.

Just my opinion though. And yes, you might see some capitalization these couple of paragraphs, it’s because I’m typing these two paragraphs in word. Word is a good document keeper.

okay, i don't have much else to say. other then the fact that i want to make it public that curi, the blunt boy, also known as FoRfucker, has dared me to kiss, online, in AIM, DD. and i, in fact, took the dare. how stupid can i get before i die?!

i think i'll go crawl into a dark hole for a while now, okay? and if any of my FF.net reviewers read this, i am working on my IZ fanfiction, i swear! ^-^;;;

2003-09-12T01:02:00.000-07:00

Hit me, people. i liiiike being hit.

okay, the title means, I WANT MORE HITS !@#$@~~!!!

*ahem* okay, i don't know my hit rate, actually. i rate my hit rate by my comments. which are few. very few. and mostly curi. damn curi. he's like a stalker sometimes. ah, but i don't exactly object. i mean at least that way i get comments.

so, anyways. i've gotten another chapter up of my Invader ZIM fanfiction at Fanfiction.net, go see . and then comment. pleeeeeez?

fine. don't. i don't care. *sniff*

*ahem* anyways. uhn. i don't know what else to type. i want a higher hit rate. DD is pretty cool (curi and Dan know who i speak of). Mah friends are busy. i need to write more. must...write...more. someone, slap me with the trout of inspiration, please?

and now i've run out of things to say. i guess i'll go watch a movie. that'll take up some time. i guess.

2003-09-10T16:56:00.000-07:00

Something Witty Here

Today i couldn't think of nothin' to write about. so, instead of actually writing a post with content, i shall post... *dun dun dun* a Fanfic bit! ... uh, but first let me go through the archives and find one people haven't seen yet...

kay, sorry folks, i can't find a fanfic bit... BUT!! i have an original story! unedited! ... wait, that's a bad thing... ah well. anyways. original story. yes. posting now.

---

A small, ghostly white form near slithered along the black marble floor, edging around huge looming gray granite pillars. The high-ceilinged room the form slithered through was mostly dark. The ceiling was opaque with black shadows. Only windows high on the wall offered light; and small amounts of it, at that. A Soft clicking of toenails upon marble echoed through the room, bouncing off the forested pillars that formed two lines, leading towards a platform.

Passing through a moonbeam from the highly positioned windows, the creature revealed itself. A small skeletal white dragon with torn wings glanced around the room, pausing as his deep red eyes flicked around the room cautiously. A tentative step forwards and the creature was moving again, back in the shadows, its long tail flicking out behind it.

Soon the creature reached his goal; the platform at the end of the room, where a mirror held in a striking gold and silver frame stood. Jumping up to the platform effortlessly, the skeletal Dragon reared back on his hind legs and looked softly at the mirror.

The Dragon’s jaws opened and he spoke softly to the mirror. “You’ve cursed me for years… will you set me free on this night?”

In response, the Mirror flashed. The Dragon sighed, resting his hand on the surface of the mirror, careful not to scratch its surface with his claws, and looked thoughtfully at the mirror’s reflection of all of the room that was missing him. The Dragon’s vision clouded as he folded his torn wings and looked inward, into his memories.

He stepped quietly into the large room, carefully letting his claws down, so careful that they made no sound whatsoever. Blinking and quickly adjusting his dark red eyes to the low light, he glanced around the room. Tall pillars, a ceiling oblique with shadow, high windows that let the silent full moon peek in and watch the thief at his work… it was just as in his imagination.

The Drakeling self-confidently approached the mirror at the end of the room, his prize gleaming in the moonlight ahead of him. Stepping up onto the platform with a practiced step, he crept to the mirror, awed by its glory. Four clicks of nails upon marble and the Dragon was in front of the mirror. He flapped his wings once, a golden flash in the moonlight, and sat up. Grinning lazily he touched the mirror’s surface, admiring its flawless design.

There was a step from behind one of the pillars, and the dragon looked up, startled. A mage stood, face covered carefully in shadows, in dark purple and blue robes. The mage’s long fingers stroked the staff he held, the staff a piece of work in itself. Although the Drakeling couldn’t see the man’s eyes, he felt he was being watched and gazed at the mage suspiciously.

“Rahkin…” the mage spoke, startling the Dragon, who didn’t understand how this mage knew his name. “You have touched the mirror of the red moon… as a rule; it will grant you your heart’s desire…”

The golden Dragon perked up at this, retrieving his lazy grin. “ah… that’d be easy to grant, wouldn’t it?”

Rahkin almost cringed as he felt more than saw the mage narrow his eyes in disgust. “do not take this … gift … lightly.” The mage hissed softly, then waved a hand in the air. Rahkin suddenly felt cold, a cold like he’d never felt before. He shivered.

The mage seemed calm again. “Your gift has been granted. Leave this place.” The Mage then turned on his heel, robes swirling behind him as he strode out of the room. A cold air still surrounded Rahkin, who shivered slightly, then decided to take the Mage’s advice and moved out of the room, with one last look behind him at the mirror before he left.

~*~

It was a surprise when his own family told him to get out. But just barely a surprise, as the whole village had announced he smelled of death and should be removed as a safety precaution.

Even among thieves there were no loyalties.

Silently wondering why they smelt death on him, Rahkin moved on, feeling numb inside as he flew away from the village, golden wings flashing.

Landing in a forest to drink, Rahkin’s sensitive hearing caught a noise. Turning suddenly, he saw a wolf pack creeping towards him out of the bush, a crazed look in the pack’s eyes. Panicking, Rahkin made the mistake of making a sudden movement, flapping his wings to try and get away. The lead wolf darted forwards, and the next thing Rahkin knew, his left wing membrane was in tatters. Yet he felt no pain.

The wolf tasted Rahkin’s wing membrane for a second, then spit it out and turned, waving its tail scornfully. In confusion, Rahkin watched the wolf pack, one by one, turn and leave.

Carefully, Rahkin tried to fly. But to no avail; without his left wing membrane he couldn’t fly at all. The little dragon sighed, and started on his way, walking through the dense underbrush of the forest.

~*~

Moonlight shone on the forest, covering everything in a bluish glow. Rahkin had paused by a stream to sleep, but couldn’t, for some reason. Sighing wistfully, Rahkin stepped over to the stream, and almost screamed in shock.

He had no reflection.

Stepping back, Rahkin tripped on a rock and scrambled up. It shouldn’t have been like this, he should have a reflection! Calming down after a second, Rahkin went through possible explanations. Maybe he had missed his reflection, or maybe he wasn’t far enough over the water. The Drakeling stepped forwards again and looked into the stream. Still no reflection.

Rahkin went numb inside. He put a claw to the water… ripples moved outwards. He couldn’t see why, though… but wait, what was that? Rahkin looked closer. Yes, as he got closer… there was a faint reflection. What he saw made him afraid to no end.

A skullish face looked back out at him, deep red eyes worried. His face looked like white bone. His double horns, which had been beautiful when he was golden, were a bland black grayish color. Gasping, Rahkin pulled away from the water, breathing unsteadily as if he had suddenly exerted himself.

Suddenly, in memory, the Mage’s words drifted through his head. “do not take this … gift … lightly.” The mage had tricked him! This wasn’t a gift at all! He wanted to be an immortal, not a monster!

Not being able to take all the emotions at once, anger, sadness, horror, Rahkin went numb. He pulled away from the stream numb. And numbly, Rahkin started walking, not knowing where he was headed, just walking for the sake of walking. Wishing he had an answer, angry that he didn’t, Rahkin went on his way, oblivious to anything else.

The same Rahkin snapped back to reality, a half smile crossing his face. “How horribly Ironic…” the Dragon hissed at the mirror, eyes narrowing to slits. “How ironic that you would make me pay for my crimes by giving me immortality, the thing I wanted above anything else…” Rahkin snarled, voice rising as he spoke to the mirror, Hand resting upon the mirror’s surface balling into a fist.

“Have you repented for your crimes, then? To ask the Mirror of the Red Moon for forgiveness? To ask it to let you free of your curse?” the Mage, the same one from Rahkin’s memory, silently stepped out from behind one of the pillars.

The Drakeling hissed, not even looking up from the mirror. “Life is not worth living when one cannot feel… I’m tired of this! Let me free!”

The Mage looked slightly taken aback. “You have not learned the error of your ways, if you’re only considering yourself, Rahkin. Your crimes were a point of that, not caring about others.”

Rahkin took a deep breath, and hissed it out, then took another deep breath and responded, “You have failed your task… miserably.”

“What?” The Mage asked, at once confused by this Dragon’s words, confused for the first time since he had joined the Mirror of the Red Moon.

“I will not learn. Not while you torture me like some pet you try to train. even If it means spending an eternity like this… I will deny you.” The Dragon finally hissed, turning a furious gaze on the Mage.

The Mage’s eyes narrowed, how dare a Drakeling deny the power of the Mirror of the Red Moon? Its ways of teaching were perfect! “You must repent. You will never be free if you don’t repent.”

Rahkin snorted and dropped to all fours, turning from the mirror and striding for the door. The Mage, shocked, rushed in front of Rahkin, and continued arguing on the Mirror’s behalf. “The Mirror is flawless! It will punish you until you repent for the sins done on other living creatures! You’ve stolen from other people, people who needed those belongings!”

The Dragon paused to stare up at the Mage, who was forever cloaked in shadows. “I may have stolen… but never from those who needed it. Did you ever pause to think, good sir,” Rahkin said with venomous sarcasm, “that I, or my family, might have needed those belongings just as much, if not more? Did you ever pause to think that I might be helping others less fortunate with the things I’ve stolen? Did you, or your precious mirror, ever pause to think that I will not learn something you try to cram down my throat?”

The Mage was silent, staring at the Drakeling in confusion. His world was not merely blacks and whites anymore, there were shades of gray in between. His judgment suffered as he considered the Dragon’s words.

“I thought not.” Rahkin said clearly, then stepped past the Mage, walking outside silently, leaving the mage in thought.

The Drakeling paused to watch the Sun as it rose over the horizon, drawing pleasure from the sight as he remembered, all nights had a dawn. Maybe being immortal wasn’t so bad, after all.

2003-09-10T01:12:00.000-07:00

Screw titles, they suck.

Okay peeps (and by 'peeps' i mean curi and Dan), i be in a better mood. rejoice. for i said to.

so, i figured i'd mosey (funny word, that) back on over to blogger, to say, gasp! another guy i know has a blog. and he hates blogs. the world is going to face apocalypse soon. sorry, everyone. it's probably my fault in some way or another.

hoookay folks! i need something, preferably interesting, to blog about! course i know none of you are gonna post something i'll write, because i'm a picky little biatch... but, the hell with it. um. while i wait for comments i shall try and think. yeah. whoosh. go bug people for me and i shall give you a virtual bag of doritos.

2003-09-09T22:00:00.000-07:00

What a Day part 2

This doesn't have to do with yesterday in any way though, apart from the title.

My day started out bad and it seems to be ending bad. but of course you don't want to hear about my day, so i'll rant on bad quality anime.

Anime is good, first off. anyone who disbelieves me should seriously think about working for WB or Disney. but disc burned anime is bad. especially when it's been downloaded by people who think they know it all but don't bother to check if the file has sound before burning it onto a CD for an anime lover like myself. but downloaded and burned anime, franky, can suck like hell.

first off, it's very pixely. which is bad for any type of movie, or art, or visual on the computer. being able to see each pixel does not help attract viewers any. and then, high quality anime on the computer, even that doesn't have as much detail as the good ole' TV (seen at a distance preferably). bad burned anime is just unbearable. one cannot even see what some objects are. i looked five minutes at what was supposed to be a horse, thinking it was a badly designed dot.

secondly, if you don't have the right program, you have to download quite a bundle of crap that slows your computer up greatly. it'll most likely freeze in the middle of your viewing pleasure.

thirdly, the translations are all fansubbed. horribly fansubbed. typos, misspelt words and completely forgotten words galore. it won't matter to some people, but i happen to like being able to read stuff i can understand. thank god i haven't heard of any fandubs.

i don't have much more to rant about, i've run out of steam. maybe i'll rant later. but right now all i want is a drink. later, the people who never comment if there are any people reading this blog out there.

2003-09-08T22:12:00.000-07:00

What a day.

Okay, i somehow got curi to link me. or at least he says he'll link me. i better check sometime. anyways, if i ever figure out how to link, i'll have to link all the people i know that have blogs. or at least the people i think are cool.

... man, i'm going to have a really short list of links.

i'm just gonna tell everyone now, i'm very busy with life atm. classes, friends, fanfiction writing, drawing, stuff like that. you have no idea how much time it eats up. i'll try and post as often as i can (that'll help me keep my link on curi's blog), but i can't guarantee anything. oh yeah, and, er, can anyone help me with stuff like permanent links? i feel like linking people. but i'm html-illiterate. so yep. help me!

oh, by the way, i have a cat. and my cat has a foot fetish. nice random bit o' information, isn't it?

2003-09-08T22:05:00.000-07:00

yo peoples, which means like, nobody. i don't think i've gotten any hits. but i don't know how to check hits so i have no clue.

i just wanted to cast a vote for that r0xx0rest (<--curi's word) blogger ever, virtue pure,
in a new blog contest. ok here's my vote. whee. i did it. go me. oh yeah.

PS. if this sounds dumb blame curi. he gave me the script, i only added on.

2003-09-07T20:12:00.000-07:00

Sierra's Tech Support; Testing Comment System.

Testing

Testing

2003-09-07T15:13:00.000-07:00

Okay, i think i've got blogger down now. basically, it's screwy so i have to deal with the screwiness.

anyways, moving on. this shall be my first post. woo. pointless so far. but, that's gonna be how the rest of my blogs are, i guess. so.

first off. i am part fangirl. which means, i dwell on websites such as fanfiction.net and mediaminer.org, where fanfictions are in abundance. fanfictions are good. in fact, i write fanfictions. the url for my fanfictions (lots of which aren't posted) is here. now lemme see if that link works...

also, i've got an Elfwood art account, which Dan (literary-masturbation.blogspot.com) has talked about, which is here.

now, let me post to see if the links work...

2003-09-07T14:53:00.000-07:00

Blogger is Screwy.