Gypsy's Child

Tis the Season for a Meme!

Fri, 22 Dec 2006 00:55:26 GMT

On the twelfth day of Christmas, anghain sent to me...

Twelve daydreammer87s drumming

Eleven dandies piping

Ten faeries a-leaping

Nine petticoats dancing

Eight snakes a-milking

Seven corsets a-swimming

Six musicals a-writing

Five bo-o-o-ooks

Four spiders

Three good omens

Two past lives

...and an aziraphael in a 19th century.

Tue, 17 Oct 2006 22:00:10 GMT

So is October.
He comes and drags through my hair
With shadow fingers that smell like
Leaf smoke candy corn something like a memory.
He’s a stranger master than I’ve ever known
Caressing my hand with a velvet glove
The other wrenching me through the door
By my hair (tarnished, long strands)
Kicking and sobbing.
I used to serve May
But her smile was too bright
And her kisses to kindly.
So I took my pack and
Roamed across the hills of the eyar
And found myself at October’s door.
May still calls
Twirling her mossy hair
Around her earth-brown fingers.
She sings sweet, the come-home song
But I
Am not
Her child.
I am an end of the year
Darker days longer nights
Caramel apple forbidden fruit and icy wine
Creature
Who can only speak on a string.
So is October.

Advice?

Wed, 30 Aug 2006 21:26:52 GMT

So, let's say that you just bought an apothecary jar thing made of clear glass. What, pray tell, would you use to fill it to give it a charming steampunk/horror/whatever look?

Did I do it?

Tue, 01 Aug 2006 03:11:40 GMT

50,477 / 50,000
(101.0%)

YES I DID.

And to think, I'm not even actually done with the novel yet! But alas, my brain can take no more. I'm taking a week off of writing.
Or thinking.
Or....everything.

Time to sleep.

Yay Abney Park!

Sat, 29 Jul 2006 00:08:15 GMT

Sat, 15 Jul 2006 05:52:47 GMT

11,053 / 50,000
(22.1%)

Well. It might not be as much as I would like, but at least it's finally coming along.

Tam seriously needs to stop being stupid. Hopefully the big reveal that's coming up from Adrian will let him act more like how he was in high school. *sighs* Silly, banal MCs.

Really badly behind.

Sun, 09 Jul 2006 03:20:26 GMT

7,087 / 50,000
(14.2%)

This are not going as planned at all. Of course, trust my daft characters to decide to take matters into their own hands. One wants to spend a chapter drinking, the other demands a bigger role...so much for my chapter outlines.

At least I have tomorrow to try to catch up a bit. Migrane set in for tonight, so I doubt I'll get much, if anything, done.

Tue, 04 Jul 2006 18:09:13 GMT

Oh shoot I'm behind I'm behind I'm behind I knew this was going to happen...

Ah, well, I'll catch up. And I seem to be coming up with some pretty insane (and rather amusing) things that I wasn't quite expecting. So it's coming along. Now to stop procrastinating!

3,077 / 50,000
(6.2%)

I have offically reached insanity

Sun, 02 Jul 2006 17:32:17 GMT

So now it's official. I'm going to be attempting to do the JulNoWriMo contest. Lords have mercy on my poor soul, eh?

I only got 553 words done last night, due to work and exhaustion and things of that nature, and then this morning, I realized that my story is completely stalled. *sigh* So I'm switching to another idea and seeing if that works better.

Adrian's insisted on being in whatever I do, which is a tad bit annoying, as he is so mercurial at the best of times...

Time for me to stop procrastining, eh?

Ahah...

Sun, 18 Jun 2006 00:52:16 GMT

What Fantasy Book Heroine Are You?

You are Garth Nix's SABRIEL. You confine the Dead beyond the Ninth Gate, and even when you're afraid you don't back down.
Take this quiz!

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| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

That which requires heavy editing

Tue, 13 Jun 2006 03:12:37 GMT

A lullaby for Adrian! First draft!

Come now, my child, draw close to the fire,
Come see your future's funeral pyre.
Braid your white hair tight now, my dove.
Tie your heart up and forget how to love.
Come see the courtiers dance round the spark.
Hush, winter baby, be raised in the dark.

Er. I guess we should have guessed...

Sun, 28 May 2006 19:19:31 GMT

Which Member of the Endless Are You?

Crimson Kisses and Whatnot

Sun, 14 May 2006 03:20:31 GMT

So after the meltdown sobfest of last night that I shall by no means ever mention again, today dawned bright and cheerful....

And I had my eye swollen shut.

This did not bode well, since Hannah and I were to go to New York City today and see Lestat. The swelling went down slowly, thanks be to Cheetos, and so off we went, sleeping on the train on the way up.

Lunch was had at Barbetta, a delightfully old-fashioned Italian resturant. We sat out in the garden, and a pigeon left us a lovely surprise on our table. It was very easy to forget, while in the garden, that we were in the city.

Finally the show. The reviews had been pretty bad, but we thought it was pretty good. Though certainly not the best show I've ever seen, it wasn't totally terrible. The artistic design or somesuch was done by Dave McKean, who is, of course, divine. And Hugh Panaro was wonderful as Lestat, especially after the second act began and the snark kicked in.

Best part of the day was waiting outside the stage door for autographs. We got almost everyone in the cast, and we even got a picture with Hugh. Liz is most likely going to kill me upon seeing this. So if after Monday I do not return, you'll know that it's been Death by Liz for me.

Tue, 02 May 2006 04:04:09 GMT

Blessed Beltane!

Hope yours was quite as interesting as mine was.

50 Themes

Sun, 16 Apr 2006 04:19:20 GMT

I stole this from 1sentence, even though I don't belong to the community, and used it for one of my original characters/pairings. Yay for new attempts to break writer's block!

Fandom:Whatever it is I decide to call this book.
Character(s):Book!Kestrel, with a bit of Kestrel/Isobel and cameos by other nuts.
Theme set:Beta
Warning: This is more of a warmup than anything else, so please forgive me if it is completely terrible.

#01 – Walking Glaring over his shoulder at the overturned carriage, Kestrel picks up his bag and continues on foot to the nearest town.

#02 – Waltz The only thing the dance is good for is keeping him out of sight of Isobel, but he spends the entire time wishing that he was her partner anyway.

#03 – Wishes Kestrel does not believe in luck, but each time he spots a falling star, he closes his eyes and makes a wish, just in case.

#04 – Wonder Isobel had long ago decided that nothing in the world could awe her, until he first opened his mouth.

#05 – Worry It was the fifth night in a row that the housekeeper had sat in the front hall, waiting for the creak of the door to tell her that her tenant was still alive.

#06 – Whimsy On reflection, coaxing that Romantic poet into writing a sonnet about octopi was not the brightest idea, but at least it was funny at the time.

#07 - Waste/Wasteland Kestrel knows that someday he will stand on a hill and watch as the wind blows through empty space, but for now he enjoys the city and tries to forget its fate.

#08 - Whiskey and rum As soon as Isobel informed him that he was an incorrigible drunk, Kestrel smirked and stumbled back over to the bar.

#09 – War When he closes his eyes, he dreams of sodden, freezing trenches and the smell of decay; before that, it was a field that squished with the blood soaked into it, and a dented helmet under his arm.

#10 – Weddings Isobel was never the sort of person to cry at weddings, until she realized that he would never be returning home to help plan theirs.

#11 – Birthday Kestrel watches the seconds tick down until he is another year older, a glass of wine in his hand; an ocean away, Isobel does the same, holding his last letter.

#12 – Blessing Aryck shifted as the white-haired man smoothed back his son’s hair, giving him the blessing of the Fae folk for his whole life.

#13 – Bias Isobel claims that she prefers red haired men above anything else; Kestrel accuses her of being just a bit biased.

#14 – Burning He writhes on the end of his chain, screaming as every needle enters his back like a flaming sword.

#15 – Breathing When he was younger, Kestrel tried to see if he could hold his breath until he died, but only ended up ruling out another method of suicide.

#16 – Breaking It was with grim satisfaction that he watched the mirror he threw into the wall shatter into thousands of waterfall shards.

#17 – Belief Some nights, he sits on the roof and wonders why he still thinks that they exist, watching his every move- then he remembers what they did.

#18 – Balloon Isobel laughed as her latest flame handed her the carnival balloon, remembering when it was Kestrel with a silver mirror.

#19 – Balcony She stood looking down on him at every ball, hoping that on one frosty night she would be able to bite her tongue and tell him the truth.

#20 – Bane Isobel jokingly suggested that he carry iron in his pocket to ward off the faeries; Kestrel declined, knowing it would burn him too.

#21 – Quiet In the silence before the dawn, he sits next to the sleeping form and wonders just what in hell he thinks he’s doing here.

#22 – Quirks She always loved the way he let native accent slip into his voice when he was angry, or when he tried to pronounce “probably”.

#23 – Question Kestrel stares at the paper, frowning at the scrawled “What if?” that covers the white page before ripping it to shreds.

#24 – Quarrel It was bad enough that he argue the point, but she thought insisting he was right was the last, if rather charming, straw.

#25 – Quitting The moment he heard that Dr. Gardner was resigning from his position, Kestrel collapsed onto his bed and wept with joy, not even suspecting that it was just a rumor.

#26 – Jump Fingers tightening against the balcony railing, he desperately hoped that the ledge would hold if the creature decided to jump.

#27 – Jester Even though Isobel thought the ensemble was cute, Kestrel thought that his Halloween costume was far too brightly coloured to look good on anyone.

#28 – Jousting Clutching on to his father’s arm as the crowd roared and the horses stamped, Kestrel whispered that he wanted to be a jouster when he was old enough.

#29 – Jewel He fastens the clasp around her neck, kissing her cheek and comparing her, rather favorably, to the ruby.

#30 – Just He was in the crowd the day the thief was hanged, and as the charges were read, he wished that it could be the king instead.

#31 – Smirk Isobel and Quincey had learned that whenever a smirk crept across the redhead’s face, it was wise to run swiftly.

#32 – Sorrow Isobel sits on the bench, allowing the snow to obscure the name on the tombstone- there seems no point in clearing it when she is the only one that remembers him.

#33 – Stupidity Assuming that he made it home alive, Kestrel would certainly be adding a new rule to the “Demonic Portal Protocol” list, just in case he ever got curious again.

#34 – Serenade It was rumored that Kestrel had a wonderful voice, but it was not until Isobel plied him with several drinks that he proved them all right.

#35 – Sarcasm Lord of Sarcasm would be a very fitting title for Kestrel, as even Dr. Gardner had to admit when they met again.

#36 – Sordid Isobel found that, as marvelous as the tale of Lady Debny’s affair was, it could hardly be as entertaining as watching Kestrel attempt to salvage his reputation.

#37 – Soliloquy Hearing the roar of the audience the moment he finished his lines was, Kestrel decided, a feeling that he could quite get used to.

#38 – Sojourn Kestrel hated both boats and traveling to new countries on them, but with the presence of a certain lass he could almost forget the disaster of the first time.

#39 – Share He allowed her to cut him a generous piece from her pie, even though they both knew that he was not even going to touch it.

#40 – Solitary In the haze of pain, he lost count of the days that had passed without a single person stopping to silence his cries.

#41 – Nowhere Four years, and not an inch gained, according to his letters- even Isobel could see exactly where this daft war was going.

#42 – Neutral Whenever the topic of politics came up, he bit his tongue and pretended that he didn’t care that those blasted politicians were ruining his country, even though he knew he could do a better job.

#43 – Nuance 60 years later, she had studied the letter well enough to know exactly how to forge the elegant way his ‘j’ looped around itself.

#44 – Near Kestrel closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window, marveling at how sick he could feel when the train chugged ever closer to his ancestral home.

#45 – Natural In later years, Kestrel wondered exactly what extremes he would have to reach for to prove that his hair was, indeed, that shade from birth.

#46 – Horizon Watching that stupid, drunken pirate inspired envy in them, each secretly wishing that they still had a ship to ‘bring them that horizon’.

#47 – Valiant She held her head up and did not sob or throw herself on top of the coffin, which Quincy admitted was the bravest thing anyone could have done considering the circumstances.

#48 – Virtuous Isobel considers herself the very picture of Victorian morals, as long as one did not remember that week she spent in Kestrel’s bed.

#49 – Victory The telegraph told them that the enemy had been driven out of the country, and he cheered as loudly as the rest of the boys as they realized they were free to go home.

#50 – Defeat Kestrel cradles the broken body, stroking the bloody hair with no idea that this is far from the last time he will repeat the gesture.

And Mr. F has a really, really bad typo problem:

Wed, 12 Apr 2006 02:23:05 GMT

Tiki Sheep 619: black tux
Tiki Sheep 619: blood red vest and die
Tiki Sheep 619: ...er...BAD TYPO

I think he had fun shopping for a tux, no?

Tea and crumpets, my dears?

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 23:46:16 GMT

So I have absolutely no idea what's been wrong with me lately. Some of it, I think, has to do with not writing for absolute ages. It tends to build up after a while, you know? I happen to be one of those writers that gets rather insane when I don't write.

Therefore, I will be trying to do a short story, or something. Anything. Even if I throw it away in the end. At least it will be something.

You know, with my Emilie Autumn and my MS Word back, I'm feeling almost fae again. Whoo, but it's been far too human around here lately.

Dear Depression- you are now OVER. Thank you, and leave. Now.

Hee Hee...

Sun, 09 Apr 2006 23:54:52 GMT

You're Enjolras!
Chaste, severe, and sometimes longwinded. Girls swoon at your feet, boys take your orders, and thugs cower at your righteous wrath. Which Barricade Boy Are You?

What Script?

Wed, 05 Apr 2006 01:17:05 GMT

Right about now, I should be writing the script for that still unnamed little comic that I will start calling "Seasonal", just to have something to call it. I have the third scene all written, true, and V. has not only just started drawing the second scene. But I have not written a damn thing in weeks, thanks to a lovely family I like to call Drama Club.

Ah well, too lazy to write anything tonight. I am such a bad little wannabe author.

What to say, what to say...well. The Clock and the Napkin are dating. I'm very much unsurprised, since I saw it coming from miles away. It will be rather nice to see them dancing and living it up at the prom. Selfish of me, yes, but I envy them a bit. I guess I'm just paranoid that they will get so wrapped up with each other (which is a good thing, to get wrapped up in someone else) that they will completely forget about a little blonde twit who is, in re-reading this sentence, far far far too selfish.

What in Hell is wrong with me? I know they probably wouldn't be like that (I've just seen it happen often enough). They deserve each other, they're good for each other. Ugh, I feel like such a bitch for even thinking this way. It just seems like friends at school are drifting away.

Ah, well. I wish them the best of luck, and I adore them both, and they know it. I'll just be sure to give them plenty of 'alone time' and not get in the way of the happy couple. Lords know I cause enough problems, they don't need any of my crap to deal with.

Oh, I am such a fucking teenager.

Within the next few weeks I have to decide if I want to follow singing and acting and stuff as a possible career, so Mum will know if she has to pay for extra singing lessons to get me ready for college auditions. I would love with all my heart to do it. I just....I really don't think I have the talent to actually get anywhere with it. Mom keeps telling me that I have the talent, and I just need to work a bit harder, but I dunno. I always get the feeling that people tell me I'm a good singer just because they don't want to be mean. I guess I'm okay, but just about everyone's okay, aren't they?

I'll probably just end up going something practical that I know I'll hate, but get money from.

Okay. Enough of the angst.

So, I've come up with a new routine for after school:

Around 3:00 pm: Arrive Home
3pm-4pm: Treadmill. Must lose weight, yes.
4pm-5pm: Writing, or homework if there's a good amount of it.
Rest of the night: Whatever else.

Hopefully, I can stick to it for once.

This has gone on far too long, methinks. I'm off.

Mon, 27 Mar 2006 03:34:10 GMT

AAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

And to repeat:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Today

Sun, 26 Mar 2006 03:14:48 GMT

was yet another normal beginning of Hell Week day. Tech Week, I mean. Ehem. We just ran through the battle scene numerous times, and then went and tried on costumes. I got home much, much earlier than expected. Like, around three. So, later on I headed out to see V for Vendetta. Perhaps it's just because I haven't read the comic yet, but I liked it quite a bit. I had all sorts of snark for it too, but due to my head, all I can think of is: "BOOM! FIRE! EXPLOSIONS!"

Time for the meds, I think.

Fri, 24 Mar 2006 04:26:24 GMT

She's crushed berries on
her lips again.
Convinced that no one was there to see,
Pressed her hand to her forehead,
Leaving a purple stain.
A private, stolen moment.
I watched anyway.

An idea

Tue, 21 Mar 2006 22:30:12 GMT

I am considering using that fanfic 100 challenge thingamabobber to help me with my writer's block. Of course, after the first few disastrous tries, I'll never write fanfic again, so I would be using my original characters.

Hmm. I'll probably get lazy.

Currently, I am trying to design costumes for Beauty and the Beast, for theatre tech class. This is proving more annoying than I had anticipated.

And once again, everyone at school chooses the most inconvienant time to have mental breakdowns and dump all of their problems on me. Not that I mind helping, but...can't they do it when I'm not trying to pull myself back together? *sighs*

Mon, 06 Mar 2006 01:30:42 GMT

Watching the Oscars right now. So far, very little of it is actually funny. In fact, most is embarassing.

This is as funny as watching a dentist drill your brother's teeth. Oh. Wait...

Just a gripe....

Tue, 28 Feb 2006 04:43:29 GMT

So you've been roleplaying with me for two years. We see each other in person at times. Your character, and my main one are married, and have a child. He is the first character I introduced. You know what he looks like. His hair color is not just his hair color, if you remember, it's his trademark. When people get annoyed at him, they refer to him snippily as "The Redhead".

So why, oh why, do you insist on arguing with me and telling me that you know he's blonde?

*brainsizzle*