'It's all happening...'

38 out of 100...oh, dear.

2008-07-04T14:19:11Z

A book meme stolen from the incomparably amazing wolfalice .

The Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed.

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE, and strikeout the books you read but didn't like.

1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible
7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10. ~~Great Expectations - Charles Dickens~~ (UHGR!)
11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12. Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare (Also UHRG!)
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19. The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger (Madre says it is good, so...)
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24. The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34. Emma - Jane Austen
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis (DEJA VU!)
37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini (What is the deal with this book?! I am so fully uninterested.)
38. Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41. Animal Farm - George Orwell
42. ~~The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown~~ (Hate it, hate it, hate it! A drunk 3 year old would likely demonstrate more sophisticated writing skills.)
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46. ~~Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery~~ (Shoot me now! I had to read this in 5th grade; I kept getting caught with LotR hidden between the covers.)
47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy (It somehow managed to be interesting for the last 3 chapters, which is how it avoids getting the strikethrough.)
48. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50. Atonement - Ian McEwan
51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52. Dune - Frank Herbert (!!! So way yes! I loved this game!)
53. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon (A fantastic book!)
57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley (would be underlined if John had died in the 2nd chapter, instead of plaguing us throughout)
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov (Ahgr! Ahgr! This book is so incredibly poetic and twisted. &hearts;)
63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt (Just finished it. Can we say exclamation mark!? This has to be one of my favourite books of all time. It's...breathtaking; absolutely, truly, heart-stoppingly breathtaking. I couldn't recommend it more highly.)
64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68. Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding
69. Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72. Dracula - Bram Stoker (Awesome book! Jonathan Harker has to be one of the sexiest men in fiction, ever.)
73. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson (What about Big Country?! Far superior!)
75. Ulysses - James Joyce
76. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath (&hearts; &hearts; &hearts;)
77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome (Oh, my god! I am so ~~excited to even see this here! This~~ was one of the first books I ever read. I loved it to bits!)
78. Germinal - Emile Zola
79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray (Becky Sharp! What more can I say?)
80. Possession - AS Byatt
81. ~~A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens~~
82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert (I can't believe Flaubert made a living writing this kind of senseless rubbish.)
86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87. Charlotte's Web - EB White
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94. Watership Down - Richard Adams
95. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98. Hamlet - William Shakespeare (I am ashamed of this. And I don't even like Shakespeare that much.)
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo (Someone else who shouldn't have made a living off his books.)

...okay, now let's see. 38! I'm relatively happy with that. Oh, and no, I'm not back from my Hiatus. Sadly, I must study for exams now that all the Sydney/choir/family-time/Gen Con stuff is over. But I will give you updates when I can (if anyone cares).

And FYI, I am writing the next chapter of A Month (in case anyone thought I'd forgotten about it or something, which would totally be understandable considering how long it's been). But, yes, it's nearly finished, I just need to edit & check some fandom facts. That is all.

♥

"you and me, one last run"

2008-06-14T07:30:33Z

Oh my god. I think I'm going to be ill with excitement: I just finished watching Silence in the Library & Forest of the Dead.

Oh my GOD. It's been awhile since I've felt this excited about Doctor Who. Steven Moffat? I LOVE YOU, OKAY? LIKE REALLY. ALL OF MY FAVOURITE EPISODES = THOSE YOU WRITE. AHRG. AHGR. (I am ecstatic that he's taking over for RTD next season. Waaah!)

"One last run". ♥!

And uh, I just watched the trailer for S4 on Youtube (again) and suddenly noticed the clip at 0:59. I don't know why I missed this before because...well, gosh. I've never seen him looking so distressed. Not even Doomsday...though maybe it's not the pain on his face that's totally and utterly breathtaking (as a general rule -- the more anguished DT looks, the better) but more the sheer terror. I mean he looks petrified. That is so incredibly compelling, and I can't be the only one thinking so. Much as I love him & all, he's never really had cause to be personally frightened: usually because he's a little flippant about the whole Living thing. Whereas here...I don't know. It's...enchanting.

♥

So I'm back! From Sydney. Um. I'm not allowed to post more details (i.e. how the choir did!) online, but let's just say we're happy, and we're going back up next Sunday. So, yes.

It was kind of crazy. All we did was sleep, sing, eat, and then repeat the entire cycle. Despite that it was incredibly busy. I developed an unbelievably sore throat halfway through and spent a day in bed with nearly every sore throat medicine the local chemist would let me purchase without a prescription (which is a truly piteous quantity). What else? We ate chocolate a lot, since there was a Max Brenner's very close by, and with all the excitement and exhaustion and nerves (which I truly, truly cannot exaggerate, because they were insane, really), we were forced to indulge quite often in sugar highs. So all in all it was fun, and nerve-racking, and ridiculously over-emotional. My mother & I used to make ruthless fun of any and all people who cried on TV and let's just say, I'll stop from now on. Because heck if I did not do some serious weeping, screaming, jumping up and down, and hugging of anyone in proximity (regardless of whether or not we knew each other).

Anyway. I'm off now to take a very long shower and then make some Prince of Persia icons (there aren't any anywhere! It's absurd!) and then try futiley to figure out when mi padre y hermana estan venido (that is quite possibly incomprehensible). Which may sound simple, but really, all I know is that they missed one of their flights, and now the BA website is trying to tell me all kinds of bollocks, like, for instance, that there are only two flights arriving from Singapore tomorrow and that both of them would have departed before Kat & padre could have caught them, or something. I don't know. It's fairly fucking incomprehensible. Looks like I'm going to be spending all day hanging around the airport tomorrow, then...

Sydney!

2008-06-05T02:17:22Z

So. As some of you may know, I'm going off to Sydney tomorrow for a period of up to a week. (If it is a week, that means good things! So please cross your fingers and hope you don't hear from me for that long!)

Sadly, we've been strictly prohibited from using the (overpriced) Broadband that is available at the hotel, so that's out. With this in mind I won't be bringing my laptop either, so that also means significant delays for A Month of Stolen Time. I am very sorry about that! I will try and get straight back to writing it when I get back, but I'm not even sure if that will be possible, seeing as my father & sister are arriving on the 16th. (If, however, I get back before a week is up, I'll see what I can do, I promise).

All in all this is incredibly exciting.

Yesterday I went to Garth's and the whole group of us (Alison, Isaac, Jenna, Garth & I) sat around playing Wii. It was crazily fun. Jenna - good luck (again) on your exams. Please do well. UQ wouldn't be half as much fun without you.

Um. And I think that's it. As always, you guys are awesome. Have a great week, and please cross your fingers for me and my choir!

♥

everworld2662 @ 2008-06-03T20:52:00

2008-06-03T10:55:35Z

Have I mentioned lately how much I want to stab my mother sometimes?

Just because she's going to get an ulcer doesn't mean she needs to try and give me one too. Fuck, I cannot deal with her. She makes me so stressed out I can't fucking function. Ahrg. Ahrg.

I need to go read "The Secret History" and listen to more PJ Harvey. Cross my fingers I won't dream tonight.

I hate this. As soon as I'm not busy 24/7, I go back to this. I hate it.

Ebay is fail, and so is the Cartoon Network store. =(

2008-05-31T15:13:36Z

AHRG!

There is nothing worse, I have realized, than shopping for a very specific item. It is this kind of thing that guarantees it will be absolutely impossible to find.

Okay, so I was lurking on ebay, as one does, and I found this:

See, lewdness has mentioned her Roxas plushie in one of her posts and we had a brief exchange-of-comments about the fact that I am totally and utterly jealous, and where might I get one.

But...does this Roxas look a little squashed, or is it just me? I mean, perhaps this is the only Roxas plushie out their (which would make me sad), but if it isn't...well, why isn't his hair sticking up? I know he was emo, but his hair was sticking up. I am very adamant about this. I love his hair. That said, I do love his mouth in this. 'Tis just perfect. Makes you want to hug him. Which obviously fulfils the purpose of both a) Roxas and b) plushie!

Anyway, back to my original point, which was that knowing what you want means you will never, ever get it (Jenni's Law). See, I have had this fixation -- do not ask me why, or where I got it, but 'tis true -- with having Dexter's Laboratory bedsheets. But anyway, I think this is a bit specific for ebay, so instead I go to the Cartoon Network store. This is only logical, yes?

Guess how many items they have under the Dexter's Lab category? One.

Yes, that's right, they have one item -- bobbleheads. Which is nice and all, & yes, I am enough of a geek to want one but...

I really really wanted those bedsheets!

PoP - The Two Thrones

2008-05-30T11:05:58Z

This is all I have to say. =)

PoP - Prodigy, & ZOMG 2 THRONES SUBTEXT.

2008-05-28T15:19:47Z

OH MY GOD.

What have they done to my Prince?!

So I finally finished The Two Thrones. I used the trainer a kajillion times, though, which is probably more a reflection on my lack of patience than on the game's difficulty (though it should be noted I didn't use a trainer/cheats for Warrior Within once, and that game was considered the hardest of the series, from what I gather).

I don't have terribly much to say about it, except that I'm heartbroken that I've finished them and extremely worried about the next one. Firstly, it seems there is no more Dagger of Time. I get that Kaileena kind of vanished off into the ether with at the end of TT, but...seriously. A PoP game without a rewind button? Next thing they'll be cutting the cute narration and have the Prince running around swearing ~~oh wait they already did that with Warrior Within~~. Joking aside, I confess I'm...well, as I said, quite anxious. The Prince really needs to lose the bandana, the street-fighter look, the stupid clawed glove -- and you know, I'd be in favour of him ACTUALLY LOOKING VAGUELY PERSIAN.

And did I mention I really want his hair back?

~~And his dark alter-ego. But I understand if he's gone for good.~~

Oh - and I found this whilst I was searching for well saturated pictures for the PoP layout I'm making & I think it's just about the sexiest thing ever ~~despite the fact that it doesn't have Kaileena in it~~. This has nothing to do with the fact that Prince/Farah/Dark Prince is my new OTP, or anything.

And speaking of Prince/Dark Prince...the last level? Well, quite frankly, I would've been content if the entire game had been that. The dream mind-fuckery was divine, and D!P! taunted throughout it, and he was just lovely and adorable ~~and so totally in love with Prince~~ that I kept falling off platforms out of sheer distraction.

"I want your time! Haven't I earned it?"

"No! What are you doing? Do not ignore me! Do not leave me behind! No!"

and...

"Are you ready to relinquish control yet?"

Someone reassure me they found that last line as hot as I did? >> Seriously. Who says that? How can you make that not sound sexual? Especially with that voice?!

TombRaider icons & sentimentality

2008-05-26T13:10:02Z

Some icons. I'm not back. But, I've been working on these for a while and I wanted to post them.

Also. Thank you all for the love & support on my previous post. I'm okay, I'm just tired and busy and a little stressed out. My first semester's nearly over, though, and I will totally be online then (for a 4 or 5 day period, because after that, I'm going to Sydney, and June...June's a whole other depressingly hectic story). I haven't answered you all individually because I'm not "back" yet, but I will, as always, and I wanted to give a big general hug. Livejournal has been incredibly therapeutic, and, as stupid as this sounds, you guys...make me feel better about people. I am so easily angered and disillusioned but you are all fantastic, incredible people and it's wonderful knowing that you're living on the same plane as I am. That I'm not alone thinking and feeling the way I do.

So thanks for that. ♥

ETA: wolfalice -- these are for you. =)

22 Tomb Raider Icons (Legend)
1-4 Lara
5-8 Amanda
9-13 James Rutland
14-20 Alister
21-22 Lara/Alister

001

002

003

004

005

006

007

008

009

010

011

012

013

014

015

016

017

018

019

020

021

022

Created with angelamaria's Icon Table Generator @ Bauble

ETA: Comment desired, credit mocked. Please take as you will!

everworld2662 @ 2008-05-21T21:57:00

2008-05-21T11:58:57Z

FUcking fuck fuck fuck.

HIATUS.

Fuck.

Just, give me till the holidays, okay? I'll...fuck. Yeah. I'll be good then.

everworld2662 @ 2008-05-20T17:11:00

2008-05-20T08:08:05Z

Hey! What I mainly wanted to post was a meme, but I figured I owed you guys a bit of a proper post too. I've been pretty busy lately. Today was kind of up and down (mainly down, to be frank). There's something about public transport than can be so depressing. Tell me I'm not the only one who gets this? Or maybe it's just the book I'm reading at the moment: Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. It's quite fantastic--a little depressing, is all. So far, three characters have committed suicide. It's getting a bit much, really. But anyway, it's an awesome book, all of this aside--some of it is so...mhm. I don't know. It puts into words feelings I never thought could be worded. For instance:

"This meant I had to stay put until morning and go back to the dorm filled with self-loathing and disillusionment, sunlight stabbing my eyes, mouth coated with sand, head belonging to someone else."

Midori's discussion of "revolution" (and the student "revolution" at the time ((1960))) is particularly intriguing. After all, what is revolution? How can you preach it and then go into the workforce, hair parted, head bowed? It's interesting.

Anyway, I'm off to play a bit of The Two Thrones now. I just found my phone charger, and I feel a little nauseous, so yeah. I'm gonna treat myself. To hell with all of it. I don't feel well these days. Dammit.

ETA: The fact that Adam/Sark fic exists? Is the best. Thing. Ever. I love fandom so freakin' much.

I was tagged by phoenixjustice. <3

What were you doing ten years ago?
Ten years ago? Gosh, that would make me...um, 7. Well. I'm not sure. I think I was obsessing over Nanopets, Neopets, and Tamagochis. Yes. I was that kid. I was also being golden ringlet haired, writing appalling fantasy epics, and reading the Lord of the Rings hidden inside that evil, vile book, Anne of Green Gables that I was being forced to read in English class. Or maybe that was a little later. I'm so vague about time.

What are five things on your to-do list for today (not in any particular order):
Fine phone charger (really, guys, this is getting critical); answer Allison's email; finish Nat's bloody letter (sorry, baby!); play some Two Thrones; continue reorganizing/decorating my room.

What are some snacks you enjoy?
Salt & vinegar chips. POPTARTS (I recently acquired these, hence the excitement. They do not exist in Australia.). Popcorn smothered in butter and salt. REDSKINS (they are a drug, I swear.)

What would you do if you were a billionaire?
Travel. Just...oh, my, travel. Buy my way into the music business. Into every business. Do everything. Everything.

What are three of your bad habits?
Doing things without thinking of the consequences. No, really. This one is terrible. I've posted about it before; it's a fucking disgrace and it causes an incredible amount of damage.
Having high expectations, having high everything, wanting too much, always. Never settling for the middle ground.
Moodiness & sheer vulnerability. I don't want people to have to tiptoe around me, but just about anything can set me off.

What are five places where you have lived?
Um, okay. Brisbane, Australia. Sydney, Australia. Antibes, France. Grasse, France. Miami, U.S.A.

What are five jobs you have had?
None. No, really, I've never had a job. It's pathetic, I know.

"A Month of Stolen Time", (10/?)

2008-05-19T13:43:05Z

Okay, so I'm all woozy with the toxic smell of the brand new polished floorboards who's installation cost me 5 days of internet connection, so if I don't make much sense, this would be why. It's also late (well, I'm tired, anyway) and I realize I haven't been on LJ in DECADES which saddens me, but I'm afraid this isn't a proper post either.

And to everybody I owe comments/replies to -- I will get round to it. Promise. You guys know what a big believer I am in comments/replies.

But mainly I wanted to post the new chapter of A Month, because I know it's taken a while, and, yeah. Then? Sleep.

Title: A Month of Stolen Time (10)
Author: Ever1
Length: 31 ~~parts~~ ~~days~~ no idea
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Hiro/Adam/Peter, and all couples within (eventually).
               Insinuated Nathan/Peter
               Insinuated unrequited Hiro/Ando
Summary: Hiro’s guilt buys them 31 days.
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: T
Warnings: Slash. OT3. The wildly improbable Peter/Hiro pairing (eventually). Spoilers for 2^nd Volume.
Set: Post 2^nd Volume finale.
Songlist: Useless, Depeche Mode
                 Grieve, Peter Gabriel

It was only one hour ago
It was all so different then
Nothing yet has really sunk in
Looks like it always did

Grieve, Peter Gabriel

1. Day One: Hiro
2. Day One: Peter
3. Day Two: Hiro
4. Day Three: Peter
5. Day Four: Hiro
6. Day Five: Peter
7. Day Five: Hiro
8. Day Six: Peter
9. Day Six: Hiro

It is another sleepless night for Peter, but this time his insomnia is with good reason.

They are in Paris, France and it is the 12^th of July. Peter thinks they might have they lost a day or two travelling, but he can’t be sure, since he wasn’t exactly keeping track back in New York. They’re in a little hotel called Hotêl Darcet, the first place Peter could find with vacancies that didn’t want money paid in advance. The concierge had arched an eyebrow upon seeing him in his somewhat tatty, stained clothing, and carefully emphasized in his best English zat Paris iz an expensive place. Peter had waved the warning aside—Hiro might find it difficult to suddenly procure money, but Adam, surely will have no trouble repairing their finances when he wakes up.

Thankfully, that’s not likely to happen soon. At the moment, Adam is sprawled on a patterned duvet, the expression of openness and vulnerability Peter is used to observing on his face when he sleeps the only thing preventing Peter from pushing him onto the floor and claiming the bed himself. That, and a promise he’s made to the other unconscious person in this room—Hiro.

The last room available, had, by some unprecedented stroke of luck, been a twin, Hiro currently occupies the second bed in it, also sleeping, and much more carefully arranged than Adam is. Looking around the room, Peter can’t help but think the term “twin” is somewhat ambitious: the two beds are separated by a five inch wide gap that is almost impossible to navigate. Still, he’s grateful for even the semblance of space; his skin crawls slightly even being in the same room as Adam, but that cannot be helped—at least, not until Hiro wakes up, and Peter can explain what has happened. There is, of course, the nagging fear that Hiro will not believe him, and for the hundredth time, Peter wonders if wiping his memory was the right thing—wonders if he had done it for Hiro, or for himself, knowing that the damage Adam had done to the time traveller was irreparable and also knowing, selfishly, that he needed Hiro whole.

A sound draws Peter’s attention, shaking him gratefully from his thoughts. Almost drowning has left Hiro with a soft, whistling snore that had initially made Peter smile, but hearing it now makes him feel a little anxious. His vigil has lasted hours, and neither Adam nor Hiro has woken up. Making this worse is the distressing suspicion that he has somehow overdone the memory wipe; that perhaps they have been damaged by his meddling. This possibility is so unbearable that Peter pushes determinedly from his mind, turning to look at the bedside clock. It reads 22:40, and Peter has to count it out on his fingers to figure out what that means in AM/PM time. Hunger is beginning to gnaw at his stomach, but he doesn’t want to leave Hiro here alone to wake up to lost time and an unfamiliar place. He knows that feeling too well to wish it on another person. By midnight, however, his resolve to keep awake is fading. He raids the mini-bar half-heartedly, careful to leave some food behind—Hiro will be famished when he wakes—and finally decides to go to bed. He crawls onto the duvet and lies beside Hiro, a precautionary distance from the other man, and turns over onto his side to stare at the blinking figures of the alarm clock.

0:04.
0:20.
0:43.
1:03.
1:39.
2:02.
2:24.

Why did he expect to able to sleep here? He hasn’t anywhere else. He stares at the ceiling, and is considering getting up and having a long shower when a sound in the darkness startles him.

“Peter?”

A hand touches his arm and Peter finds himself releasing a breath.

“Hiro,” he says, feeling dizzy with relief and irritated by how obviously it infuses his words. “You’re awake.”

“Where are we?” His Japanese accent is somehow more pronounced in the darkness. “Is Kensei here?”

“Yes,” another voice answers before Peter can. “I’m here, Hiro.”

Disappointed and frustrated, Peter pulls back to find the light switch. A dim, sickly yellow light floods the room, and Peter sits up to see Adam, upright in his bed, arms crossed over his chest, expression harsh and unreadable. After a second, however, his eyes fall on Hiro and his face visibly softens.

“We seem to have a lost a day,” he explains with uncanny gentleness, before turning to look at Peter and saying, in a sharper voice, “Perhaps Peter here would be so kind as to explain what has happened.”

Hiro twists around to look at him and Peter feels a flare of defensiveness at the accusatory expression on the time-traveller’s face.

“You asked me to,” he tells Hiro as matter-of-factly and guilelessly as he can—never mind that it’s not quite true. Adam waits politely for a moment before making a sound in the back of his throat, demanding attention, and Peter obligingly turns to him and says, “You didn’t,” and tries to make it as venomous as possible. Adam’s polite expression clouds, his eyes narrow, and Peter feels a little surge of triumph, that he tries, probably unsuccessfully, to keep from his face.

“You took our memories?”

Hiro’s voice is alarmed, too wounded to worry about revealing this to Adam. Peter turns to face him with a feeling like dread to see that his eyes are even wider than usual, holding a shocking amount of hurt. It goes through Peter like a knife—physically painful, as though Sylar is back and gouging out an impressive section of his stomach again. It’s all he can do to keep his hand relaxed by his side, and not to clutch it to his stomach over an invisible wound.

“You asked me to,” he finally protests, trying and failing to keep his emotions from colouring his tone. Hiro’s expression, however, does not flicker, and finally, he has no recourse but to say, quietly, the one thing he wanted to avoid saying in front of Adam at all costs: “You know I’d never do anything you told me not to.”

Hiro’s expression softens. His shoulders drop and he rubs a hand across his face. He touches Peter’s hand, lying on the duvet, by way of unspoken apology, and Peter accepts it wordlessly. Remaining angry with Hiro, after all, is not an option, no matter how much he resents the man’s lack of trust.

“I must have had a very good reason to tell you to do that,” Hiro muses aloud after a moment. “Maybe the time line…?” Adam makes another small, slight noise, and Hiro looks over at him. “Whatever my reasoning, I had no right to ask Peter to take your memories too, if you did not wish me to. I apologize, Kensei. I should not have done that.”

Adam looks momentarily taken aback by the apology, as though it is unexpected. He takes a second to answer. “No harm done,” he says eventually, choosing his words carefully. “After all, you don’t even remember doing it. My holding you accountable would be…laughable.” Hiro looks mildly confused by this response, but Peter, of course, knows exactly what Adam is referring to, and comes dangerously close to telekinetic violence. Instead, he swallows a snarl with considerable difficulty, and rolls off the bed, suddenly wanting to get as far away from Adam as possible, which, sadly, is not very far at all. The blonde smirks at him knowingly, hands placed delicately over the coverlet, already perfectly attuned with the new surroundings. Hiro, meanwhile, is taking a little more time to get used to the hotel room—once the silence settles, he stands up, inches his way between the beds and begins his tour of the miniscule space. After mere seconds he is back, looking slightly more comfortable but also confused. He stands in the doorway of the tiny adjacent bathroom and pushes his glasses up his nose with an adorably quizzical little thrust.

“We’re not in New York.”

Peter smiles a little at that, and at Hiro’s familiar wide-eyed look. “No,” he agrees. “After… There was some trouble yesterday. I thought…for…safety reasons… It wouldn’t have been a good idea to stay in New York.”

“Safety!” Hiro repeats, with alarm. “Safety? I am in no danger, but Ando—”

“No!” Peter protests, fiercely. He can see where this is going. “Hiro, remember why you wanted me to be here in the first place! If someone—” He bites his lip and throws a wary glance at Adam, who returns it steadily. “You wouldn’t be able to—”

Hiro cuts him off. “I will be fine, Peter. But I am going to see Ando. I must.” Stubbornness is etched all over his face, and Peter is wordless as Hiro reaches for the door handle. In fact, all Peter can think to do at first is ask him why he’s bothering with door handles in the first place, but then the more pressing concern resurfaces, and he catches Hiro’s arm. The time traveller makes a little squashed sound in the back of his throat.

“That’s not a good idea.” Adam, rooting through the mini-bar, looks over the fridge door and meets Peter’s eyes. “What…what you thought was going to happen happened.” There is no comprehension on Hiro’s face, so Peter tries again, awkwardly, “The reason…the watchmaker…”

“Oh,” Hiro says, finally getting it. “The watchmaker.”

“Yeah,” Peter confirms vaguely, still staring at Adam who is watching them with an odd smile on his face. He removes his hand from Hiro’s wrist and is surprised when Hiro turns the door handle anyway. The time-traveller’s expression is slightly apologetic, but mostly determined.

“If…what you say has happened happened…then I really must go see Ando,” Hiro explains, softly. “He could be in danger.”

“You could put him in danger,” Peter warns darkly, and Hiro’s expression hardens. He opens his mouth to say one thing, then seems to change his mind and says instead, “Do not hurt Kensei while I am gone. I mean that, Peter.”

Peter doesn’t like it, but he can’t pick and choose—least of all when he so recently reprimanded Hiro for doing the same. “Alright,” he acquiesces wearily, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. Tiredness is returning, as well as the sick feeling in his stomach, and he can tell from Hiro’s expression that the time-traveller notices, but it doesn’t stop him from leaving and that seems to make the feeling worse. The door slams and Peter turns away to see Adam sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, elegantly wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. The expression on his face says that he is amused by Hiro’s order.

“So you’re not hurt me, is that it?”

Sitting there, floppy-limbed and clothes loose-hanging, he looks better in Nathan’s wardrobe than Nathan ever did. The sight knots pain through Peter’s chest, and he swallows, suddenly nauseous. He wants to tell Adam to get changed, but doesn’t dare open his mouth to do it, and so he goes over to the window instead and looks out. It’s the only way to get Adam completely out of his field of vision.

“What happened?”

Peter, despite himself, looks around. Adam is drinking—alcohol, Peter realizes belatedly, salvaged from the mini bar. Adam follows Peter’s gaze to the bottle lying sideways on the coverlet and smiles self-deprecatingly.

“It appears I have a taste for it,” he says idly, twisting his mouth ever so slightly at the non-committal verb. “Would you care for some?”

Unwillingly, Peter moves forward. He doesn’t want to get drunk the second Hiro leaves him alone, he really doesn’t, but it seems the safer of the few alternatives left to him, and so he accepts the bottle Adam proffers with a resentful scowl and unscrews the cap. The liquid is surprisingly sweet—it would be more fitting, Peter thinks, for Adam to be drinking something unbearably acrid—and when he takes a sip, it seems to pool in the part of his chest that feels empty and aching. He drinks more, and feels the warmth fill his stomach…and then even more, repairing the hole the best way he knows how, self-disgusted and comical in his literalness.

“I would rather you left me some,” Adam interrupts after a short while, amusement and triumph mingling to make his voice more syrupy than usual. The smugness on his face is all the incentive Peter needs to fumble the lid back on and thrust the bottle back, struggling for impassivity…but Adam isn’t fooled.

“There,” he says softly, eyes sharp and frighteningly perceptive. “Feel better yet?”

“Shut up,” Peter suggests, looking out the window again. Adam laughs

“You really do loathe me, don’t you?”

The window pane, Peter notices, is gathering moistness along the edges. “You have no idea.”

“What did I do?” Adam’s reflection tilts its head to the side and releases a frustrated sigh. “Unless I’m much mistaken, Peter, I have the right to face my accuser. Is it so unreasonable for me to want to know the crime you believe I’ve committed? And then, by all means, make me answer for it. But give me a few answers before, Peter, please. I’m not playing with you. And I won’t tattle to Hiro, either, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Peter turns around. There is something on Adam’s face that he has never seen there before—burning curiosity. It makes him look a lot less smug and a lot more human, unfolding his want for Peter to see and simultaneously baring his ignorance. Adam, after all, is not the kind of man who forgives ignorance; knowledge is power, and nobody has ever kept more avidly to this motto than he, so Peter is considerably surprised to see just how desperate Adam is for information. A part of him is worried over the manipulative use the blonde is bound to make of it, but another, regrettably larger part wants the moral authority to make Adam pay for his acts, a moral authority Peter cannot possess until he accuses Adam directly. And finally, the latter is enough—it’s too much, and Peter has to speak…regardless of the consequences.

“My brother,” he begins, and there he stops, unable to go further. The term has always seemed full enough to describe his relationship with Nathan, almost self-explanatory, almost justification as much as condemnation—until now. Now it rings hollow and trite, unable to even touch upon the strength of what passed between them, but Peter has no idea how to clarify…and Adam, somehow, seems to understand nonetheless. His expression is one of revelation, a variety of emotions flitting over his face, unhidden, as a portion of his memory reconstructs, restitching thread after thread.

“Nathan,” Adam says, snapping his eyes up to Peter’s face. “Nathan, is that…? Your brother. Of course he is. Of course.”

He sits back slightly, face expectant and settled as more memories re-emerge, and in the silence, Peter wonders whether he shouldn’t take them back again, and more thoroughly this time. It isn’t a complicated question—he knows that he should; more so, that Hiro would want him to. But Hiro never knew Adam, Peter remembers suddenly. Hiro knew Kensei. He looks up again, biting his lip this time, wondering who he is looking at. Kensei? Adam? Some mixture of the two? Adam, his head answers. Adam, pretending to be Kensei. Adam, without knowing that Hiro buried him. He then wonders if this Adam knows that he plotted to release a virus that would decimate the world’s population, and then realizes he doesn’t care. That was never the problem—not really; it was an incomplete crime, a power-hungry plot justified by three-hundred-years of agonizing knowledge. No, as far as Peter is concerned, Adam is guilty of far, far worse, and suddenly Peter is glad it is out in the open—because now, he doesn’t have to hold himself back.

By the time he has come to this conclusion, Adam has found his tongue.

“What happened to Nathan, then? You were in pieces when we met, Peter, devastated by his injury…and from the expression on your face now, I think poor Nathan must have died.”

The silence is thankfully short.

“I see,” Adam continues coolly, not missing a beat. “My condolences, Peter. Did I kill him?”

The blonde’s voice is unconcerned, throw-away, and Peter feels anger flare again over the numbness. He grits his teeth and spits out, with difficulty, “Yes,” and then for some reason, keeps going, almost correcting himself: “You were responsible for his death.”

“Ah,” Adam says, the bored expression clearing slightly now that a debate is imminent. “Responsibility, however, sounds a little different to murder, wouldn’t you say? And ask yourself this: why would I kill your brother, Peter? I had no quarrel with him. If I recall correctly, I even helped save his life.”

“How much do you remember?!” Peter suddenly demands, belatedly alarmed.

“Not enough,” Adam answers, sounding slightly less amused. “And certainly nothing incriminating. Though,” he adds, with a brave attempt at mockery, “if you think I haven’t guessed where my memory loss has come from yet, you’re a greater fool than I believed.”

Adam’s voice softens when he is talking about his memory loss; his words become unsure, accusatory…almost bordering on lost. Hearing it puts Peter off his guard, and he is not prepared for Adam’s next words.

“I did not kill your brother, Peter. You know I didn’t. And I don’t believe you ever truly thought I did.”

There is a proverb that Peter is very familiar with that says the truth hurts. It has never rung truer than now. Adam’s voice is cold and soft and the most round-edged it’s been all night, but it wounds Peter in a way no other comment of his could have. Every single emotion is suddenly being dragged up his throat, chokingly, and because Peter can’t possibly hope to find words to express them all, he seizes Adam by the collar and kisses him on the mouth instead. It’s forceful, suffocating, all teeth and tongue and deliberately uncomfortable—even painful as oxygen dwindles, but Peter does not let up. Adam’s lips feel warm beneath his; every gasp he drags from Adam’s lips fills a silence that’s been building up in his head for a long time now, and it’s unbearable and alleviating all at once, like having feeling suddenly return to a frozen limb in a roar of pain.

“Well now, Peter,” Adam mocks when he finally pulls away, “I would have said that a lot earlier if I’d known—”

Peter’s mouth finds Adam’s collarbone, effectively shutting him up, and before he knows it he is plucking buttons open, pulling Adam out of Nathan’s clothes, and oh, god, something this awful shouldn’t feel this good, and vice versa, and even though Peter feels like he might start crying any moment, he just—can’t—stop.

Adam laughs lightly at Peter’s neediness, eyes fluttering closed intermittently, breath staggering slightly as Peter slides icy fingers up his sides.

“If my wearing his clothes bothered you so much, Peter, you could just have asked me to change. No need to—”

Abruptly, Peter is furious. What right does Adam have to taunt him in between gasps? Suddenly Peter wants to see the blonde out of control, mouthing obscenities, muddling words and drawing consonants out with that ragged pant that belongs to the common people, instead of the eloquent hiss he manages. If he is nothing but a second-class citizen, he wants to at least see Adam dragged down to the same level—more, he insists on being the one to do the dragging.

Adam’s eyes are on his. “What are you thinking?”

Peter doesn’t answer with words, and Adam staggers away from his blow to sit down heavily on the bed, half undressed, his open shirt billowing. “Well, this is somewhat familiar,” he gasps, gingerly touching the bleeding corner of his lip with his thumb. “Though unexpected. I was under the impression, Peter, that Hiro had ordered you not to hurt me. And I was also under the impression that you do whatever Hiro tells you to do.”

Again, Peter is impressed by Adam’s talent for finding the exact right words. He takes a couple of steps back, curling and uncurling his fists, and trying very hard to calm down before he explodes into a radioactive furnace. By the time he dares look up, Adam’s lip is healed over, and the only evidence left is a smear of red on the blonde’s thumb.

“We share that much,” he admits after a second, and Adam smiles and outstretches his hand. Peter stares at the slightly reddened fingers, unsure of what Adam wants.

“For Hiro’s sake,” Adam says after a moment, and again—Peter finds himself reaching out and clasping the other man’s hand obediently.

It’s enough. Adam tugs him closer, seizes his waist, and pulls him forward onto the bed to kiss his throat. When Peter doesn’t respond, Adam only pulls him closer by the hair and hisses in his ear, “What do I have to do, Peter? Do I have to be related to you for you to fuck me?”

It sounds absolutely filthy in his crisp British accent, and it has the desired effect. Peter seizes his shoulders and pushes him against the mattress, hard, glaring down at him. Adam merely smiles back, unfussed and superior, and maybe that, too, is calculated, because it makes Peter yank the buckle of Adam’s belt undone with unnecessary violence, utterly consumed with the need to make Adam more human.

“See,” Adam hisses, delighted and smug, “I knew you would like this, Peter. I used to fantasize about it, you know—anything to pass those three, long, aching months…”

He continues along these lines, dragging Peter back into blind hatred every time he is about to pull back or pull away or ask himself what on earth he is doing. This is the most obvious of all his manipulations, and the fact that Peter is still falling for it stings—but there is always something appealing about the traps Adam lays, so it isn’t too hard to push aside the guilt. Adam sighs beneath him as he feels Peter surrender; his eyes light up, and he reaches out to cup Peter’s face under the jaw, pushing up with four long, tapered fingers and an almost excruciating grip.

In the end it is more painful than pleasurable—for Adam, at least, and Peter wonders more than once why the blonde is goading him to this. Whatever the reason, Adam never lets his thoughts settle for long, muttering something to remind Peter of why he is a terrible person every time he senses his distraction, and Peter responds as Adam expects him to: by biting his lip, digging and curling his fingers around Adam’s ribs—anything to make the composed, condescending expression on Adam’s face flicker.

“Do you speak French?” Peter asks later, just to break the silence.

“Oui,” Adam answers emotionlessly. “Why?”

Peter buttons up his shirt, and after a moment, when it becomes apparent Adam isn’t going to do it, does his as well. Adam seems quite content to be manhandled, a sleepy, conniving little smile on his face. “We’re in Paris,” Peter tells him, wanting to somehow get rid of the expression.

“Are we really?” Adam glances over to the window and then back again. “How romantic.”

“Shut up,” Peter tries, but his voice isn’t as rough as earlier, and Adam just smiles.

A/N: Okay. I fully don’t know where that came from. You weren’t meant to get that till quite a bit later. Okay. Um.

A/N 2: Guys, I have plot! I don’t know how this snuck up on me, I never intended to have plot. So here, have some smex beforehand to keep you going through the unsmexy plotty bits.

A/N 3: Hah! 4000 words. Take that.

I LOVE YOUTUBE. <3

2008-05-11T11:46:15Z

OH MY GOD.

OH, MY GOD.

Les Choristes = <3

2008-05-10T03:18:41Z

AHRhg. Why must Youtube DO these things to me?

See, now I remember why I love Les Choristes so freakin' much..

Jean Baptiste Maunier has such an incredibly expressive face. When he sings it really is angelic; there's no other way to describe it. Don't believe me? This makes me cry. Really, it does. Seriously. I'm flailing right now. Oh guh, guh, guh. Okay. Going to go get a tissue now, or something.

I miss classical music. I like this choir, I do, but...god, I miss the soulful purity that, while not always attainable, was always the distinct goal at my old choir. There is something so pure & divine about choral singing, the real Choral singing, and I miss it. I only wish I was a better classical singer -- my voice is too breathy; it's what my singing teacher was trying to filter out when I was going to her last year. I really should go back, because I leave feeling giddy and wonderful and utterly exhausted, but it's just so hard to find the time.

"Et dans les yeux de Morhange qui suivaient si bien ma mesure, je lisais tout a coup beaucoup de choses. De la fierté, la joie d'être pardonné -- mais aussi, c'était bien nouveau pour lui, comme de la reconnaissance."

The Twilight Trailer equates to awesomeness of the highest degree.

2008-05-06T15:35:56Z

It's 1:30. Don't ask me why I'm up, sitting at my computer. No, seriously. It has something to do with Heroes. You don't want to know.

On a side note though, I just saw the Twilight trailer (I know, right? Totally belated squeeing) and I fully needed to gush about it.

CAN WE SAY OEI!U)(!*@)(!? And general *flail*?

But seriously. Okay, there are things I don't like about it.

Namely:

"This is wrong Edward! She's not one of us!"

I am not a book purist, really, I'm not, but it just...I have no objection to that scene in itself (or the little we saw of it), but I don't quite like it in the trailer. Since...well, that's not really what Twilight is about. I mean, I think it gives the erroneous impression that, oh, I don't know...it's all veiled in secrecy and Edward's Going Behind His Family's Back and that the Cullens are very hostile to Bella....
...which is obviously not the case.

But the most amazing thing ever? The beginning scene. Firstly, Bella looks suitably amazingly awesome and terrified and Edward...oh, dear. His voice when he says, "A while". I think my heart just might...mhm, can we say? It's all...ughrg. Tightly wound and just...beautiful.

Besides, the almost-kiss we say looked BRILLIANTLY AWKWARD (as Bella/Edward should always be, which is why I have such a problem with the whole, turn Bella into a vampire! thing, which I am really hoping doesn't actually happen).

But anyway, what I actually wanted to write about is: how amazing are the Twilight fans? I mean, apart from the Sticky Caps ones. The comments they've left on the trailer page are...well, frankly hilarious. I quote:

"DYING.
CAN’T BREATHE."

"I literally threw my schoolbook behind me. There’s no point in studying now. This is the best day ever!!!!!!!!! Plus, it’s Henry Cavill’s birthday. And the day we got the twilight trailer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Thank god I’m in my room because I just screamed my head off.

I think I’ll go do some more."

And, my personal favourite:

"wow. That just made my life"

Emphatically yes.

Torchwood - "Exit Wounds"

2008-04-30T14:05:31Z

SO.

I watched Torchwood "Exit Wounds" (finally, I know.)

Oh, dear. Where to start? Tosh's death...well...I felt totally winded by it. Even though some jackass over on LJSecret has spoiled me for it...it still came as something of a punch in the stomach. That fucking fuckwit Gray. I was hoping Jack would bury him alive, but I guess he's too humane for that. Anywho. Yeah. Tosh's death. OWEN's death. Which I had no clue about! It was fucking...uhrg. Flail worthy. And I'm sorry. But the exchange with Tosh where he's just screaming his head off and...oh, fucking hell. I was practically hyperventilating. It was just...and Tosh, poor, sweet Tosh, dragging herself down the stairs. Sweetheart, you did amazing. You were fantastic. In fact, you were the best bloody thing in the show and I can't believe you're not going to be in next season. Frankly, I don't know if I'll watch the next one without you and Owen. But we'll see.

Okay, so now I can get on to the other aspects of the episode. XD Jack's backstory was, as always, something of an amusing sidestory for me. Why do they always choose incredibly wooden actors to play emotional, intricate parts? Gray couldn't have been more one dimensional in that you felt absolutely no sympathy for the son of the bitch and really wondered why they couldn't afford to get a better actor. Or maybe that's just me. But anyway, if that hadn't ruined any possibility of emotional impact the backstory might have had on me, the over-written, in-your-face-"it's sad guys!"-dialogue, or just the unsubtle, blatantly melodramatic soaring of violins would've done the trick. But then again, if there is one thing consistent about me as a reader/viewer/whatever, it's that I react very strongly (and badly) to being forced to feel something. Which is so the problem I have with Terry Pratchett and his unsubtle, patronizing, pandering brand of humour that is practically bullying you into laughing (oh, what a fucking quaint sense of humour you have). ANYWAY.

In other news, Owen was freakin' lovely in this episode & we didn't see enough of him. Gwen was also fantastic - more so, indeed, than usual, and I finished the episode with a very warm feeling towards her character which is quite unusual for me. Ianto, meanwhile, didn't piss me off as much as he usually does - which in itself is incredible, though I did have several moments of *cringe* & dislike, for instance: John calling him "eyecandy". Oh, what the fuck? I must be the only person on the planet to find Ianto quite unattractive. Also, Ianto being all, "My only role in this series is to be Jack's love interest, so I must act all concerned and idiotic and antagonize the baddies by yelling at them." But you know what? All this was relatively forgivable, since it just got lost in the melee. If there's something I'm realizing -- it's that I never really hated Ianto's character, I was just bored and disinterested by it (which still holds true). Ah, no, the thing that made me despise him is fandom. I am sick of how Ianto & Ianto/Jack centric the fandom is. I am especially sick of those incredibly terrible icon makers posting 2018 trillion Ianto icons all featuring some reworking of a phrase involving the word "teaboy" and insinuating that Ianto is somehow badass.

Do not want. Thankyou.

So, to sum all of my ramblings up...I think the reason I did like this episode (despite all my bitching, I did like it) is because it works so well as an ensemble piece. That's something that a show like Alias excels at, and an area I always felt Torchwood kind of struggled in - which is obviously a shame because it had the potential to be a fantastic ensemble show, and always seemed to fall short by having completely one-character-centric episodes, or by splitting all of the characters up in different locations, or just by failing to write believable dialogue or to keep the characters consistent and yet three-dimensional. So, I don't know. I just felt this episode actually worked with me rather than against me, for once. And also for once, it didn't feel so much like pandering to the fangirls, and it felt more like a show with an actual direction. For instance - John gave Jack a kiss on the cheek, and aside from a couple of bondage comments was acted appropriately tame for once. Also for instance - Tosh never said "I love you" to Owen over the comms. Jack and Ianto didn't once kiss this episode, either - instead Ianto just sort of pressed his face into Jack's neck, which I was oddly moved by, considering I dislike the Jack/Ianto relationship.

So, basically, it was typical Torchwood - fragmented, slightly patronizing, sporadically fantastic and overall absurd and mawkish. It was far from a perfect episode. But Torchwood is far from a perfect show, and as I sat down to watch the finale, I realized during the opening sequences that I'd missed watching it - I'd missed the characters. And hopefully that'll be enough to make me put myself through the terrible episodes that you just know are going to exist in Season 3, but are hopefully going to made up for by amazing ones (like Adam in this Season, which is unequivocally one of the best episodes of anything I've ever seen.)

And by the way, guys? I'm sick. And headachey, because my brain doesn't know how to compute cold yet. So, um. If I owe you comments? Or if I owe you an email? (Yes, psyniac_123, I'm looking at you) Please forgive me for the delay. I will do it - tomorrow's my day off - but...yes. Let's hope this passes soon, hmmm?

This is so fucking typical.

2008-04-29T14:37:21Z

Wow.

It is only belatedly, of course, that I realize just how much pain I have inflicted on people. And how callous I have been in the past. And how utterly not okay it was of me to think my acting like I did was forgivable because at the time I was depressed and fucked up and couldn't make a rational decision.

Bullshit.

And I do this again, and again, and again. And I think the most recent time - I think it's cost me a friend. And not just any friend. Well, twice, for that matter, because we'll never be back to where we used to, will we? Though with you it was different. I will admit that.

And the most ridiculous part? Thank god I woke up and realized what was happening because of course, I am doing it again. Right now. On the verge, at least. Am I so completely untrustworthy? Why must I push everything? Even - perhaps especially - the things that matter the most to me?

So here's my question. Should I ever, ever, ever get in any kind of romantic relationship ever again? Because I swear to fucking god. I am apparently infuckingcapable of it.

Why do I not realize there are consequences to the things I do or say? How do I not realize that stringing someone along is not o-fucking-kay? I don't mean to, most of the time. I just don't know how to do this thing. No one I've liked to begin with has ever suddenly liked me back, it's always the other way 'round, and then I think, "What's the harm?"

Wake the fuck up. If you haven't yet realized what the harm is, then it's off to the convent with you.

Annoyingly long meme that I don't expect you to read, honest!

2008-04-28T14:30:35Z

Remember this meme?

I'm doing it again. (Too much free time, har. Actually, I'm trying to procrastinate looking at the next Software Engineering assignment and distract myself from obsessing over Twilight so that I don't succumb to temptation and go on the fandom and get spoiled for Eclipse. *sigh*)

Age: 17
Gender: Neutral. Ask me sex, I'll answer something a little more definitive.
Height: Average.
Natural hair colour: Mousy.
Eye colour: Light blue.
Skin colour: Light.
Glasses/contacts?: Nay.
Piercings: Ears.
Tattoos: Nay.
Braces: No more.
Other distinctive markings: Again, my stubborn habit of mismatching socks and earrings.
Religion: Seriously undecided at the moment.

FAVOURITE

Colour: Grey.
Band: Still Tori Amos.
Video game: Tomb Raider - Legend, Prince of Persia - Sands of Time, Kingdom Hearts II, Neverwinter Nights II, Titanic: Adventure out of Time
Movie: Almost Famous
Book: The Moth Diaries by Rachel Klein, The Farseer and Liveship Trilogies by Robin Hobb
Food: Still pizza.
CD: Stabilo's Happiness and Disaster. There is not a single song on that album that I don't love.
Flower: No strong feelings about this one.
Scent: A blown out candle.
Animal: Rabbit.
Comic book: Les Schtroumpfs, & Lucky Luke (who, by the way, I ship with Joe. But I'm a crazy person.)
Cereal: ChocoPics.
Website: Livejournal. Shocker!
Cartoon: Dexter's Lab.

DO YOU

Play an instrument?: Guitar, terrible piano & voice.
Watch TV more than 60 hours a week?: Thankfully not.
Like to sing?: Love it.
Have a job?: No.
Have a cell phone?: Yes.
Like to play sports?: If you paid me 390832,000 to like it, yes.
Have a boyfriend/girlfriend?: Nein.
Have a crush on someone?: I always have a crush. Like that guy at the bus stop who looks like Will from Alias.
Live somewhere NOT in the united states?: This question STILL pisses me off. Australia.
Have more than 5 TVs in your house?: God no!
Have any special talents/skills?: Define "skill". Define "talent".
Exercise daily?: No, but I want to.
Like school?: Uni? Yes. Love it, in fact.

CAN YOU

Sing the alphabet backwards?: Still can't sing it forwards.
Stand on your tip toes without wearing shoes?: No.
Speak any other languages?: French, sketchy Spanish.
Go a day without food?: Yes.
Remember your dreams: Sometimes.
Read music, not just tabs?: Yes, though slowly.
Roll your tongue?: No.
Eat a whole pizza?: Sure.

HAVE YOU EVER

Won something in the lottery?: No!
Snuck out of the house?: Not that I can recall.
Lied to get out of trouble?: Often.
Had a computer crash?: Who hasn't?!
Gotten lost in your city?: Embarrassingly often.
Seen a shooting star?: Yes! =)
Been to any other countries?: Yes, lol. Many.
Had a serious surgery?: Yup.
Gone to the dentist?: Yes. Can I correct the spelling/grammar of this meme? It's really irritating me.
Stolen something important to someone else?: Yes.
Solved a rubiks cube?: Have never tried and don't care to.
Gone out in public in your pajamas?: Not as of yet.
Cried over a girl?: Yes.
Cried over a boy?: Yes.
Kissed a random stranger?: Yes.
Hugged a random stranger?: Uh. I suppose so, yes.
Been in a fist fight?: Nein.
Been arrested?: No.
Done drugs?: No.
Had alcohol?: Yes.
Laughed and had milk come out of your nose?: Not milk, no. =P
Pushed all the buttons on an elevator?: No.
Sneaked into the opposite sex's bathroom?: Nope.
Gone to school only to find you had the day off because of a holiday/etc?: Yes! Quite an experience.
Swore at your parents?: Yes.
Kicked a guy where it hurts?: Nope.
Been to a casino?: Naw.
Ranover an animal and killed it?: Nay.
Broken a bone?: Nay.
Gotten stitches?: Nein.
Had a water balloon fight in winter?: Nein.
Made homemade muffins?: Define "homemade". XD
Bitten someone?: All the time. Ask darknesswonders !
Been to disneyland/disneyworld?: Oh, yes.
Burped in someone’s face?: Uh. No!

WHENS THE LAST TIME YOU

Brushed your teeth: An hour ago?
Cried: Wow. It's almost been like, a week. I'm impressed.
Went to the bathroom: An hour ago?
Saw a movie in a theatre: Um - "Gone Baby Gone", on...Sunday?
Read a book: I've been rereading chapters of Twilight lately. Does that count?
Had a snow day: A what? I'm in Australia.
Had a party: Maybe two years ago?
Went to a doctor: Oh, uh, 3 months ago for my insomnia?
Tripped in front of someone: Probably ridiculously recently.
Went to the grocery store: Not for a couple of weeks now!
Got sick: *is sick right now*
Got cursed: You mean cursed at? Your grammar is irritating.
Called someone: Today - called interling to see if she was available for stalking.

DO YOU PREFER

Fruit/vegetables: Fruit.
Black/white: Black.
Lights on/lights off: Still dim!
TV/movie: TV. TV tends to foster an amazing fandom that movies often lack somewhat.
Body spray/lotion: I don't even know what that really is. I mean, what is body spray? I have never understood this.
Cash/cheque: Cash. Emphatically!
Pillows/blankets: Pillows are win.
Headache/stomach ache: Oh, god. These both suck. Probably headache though, compared to feeling like if you move you'll throw up.
Paint/charcoal: Charcoal, I guess.
Chinese food/Mexican food: Chinese. I have a bad feeling about Mexican food.
Summer/winter: WINTER!
Snow/rain: Snow. I love it so.
Fog/misty: Mist. Misty is an adjective. See how well I'm paying attention to my Fundamentals of Writing course? =)
Rock/rap: Rock, without a doubt.
Meat/vegetarian: Meat, I'm afraid.
Chocolate/vanilla: Chocolate.
Sprinkles/icing: Icing. Lots of it.
Cake/pie: Pie! Lovely pie reminiscent of that scene in "Howl's Moving Castle".
Strawberries/blueberries: Blueberries.
Ocean/swimming pool: My hatred for water has not lessened. So, still neither.
Cookies/muffins: Cookies, of course.
Wallet/pocket: Wallet - pocket = asking for trouble.
Window/door: Care to elaborate? I'm going to say window, for unknown reasons.
Charles Chaplin/Chespirito: I've no idea who Chespirito is so I'm going with CC, though I'm not really a fan.
Pink/purple: Violent pink.
Cat/dog: Cat. <3
Long sleeve/short sleeve: Long, because as the Starks say, "Winter is coming".
Pants/shorts: Pants. Shorts are so...evil. (With the one exception of Tomb Raider shorts, which I covet.)
Winter break/spring break: Whichever one is longer?
Clouds/clear sky: Clear sky.
Moon/mars: Moon - who the hell prefers Mars?
Questions/Answers: Answers. Though it's really a little circuitous.
War/Peace: War. Avoiding conflict? Is not your friend, believe me.

LOVE AND ALL THAT CRAP

Do you believe in love?: Yes. Do I believe I'll ever find it? Now that's another question.
What's the most important kind of love for you?: Emotional.
Been close to love?: Been more than close to it!
If you have, with who?: Sod off, thanks.
Ever confessed your feelings to the one you loved?: Yes.
Are you in a relationship?: Nope.
If so, for how long?: Be thanking you kindly to see above?
What is your idea of the best date?: Not a date, really - just time. Time spent in a vacuum with just the two of you and nothing else in the world exists and you have no idea how much time has passed but suddenly it's nightfall and you feel sleepy and content and incredibly warm inside.
What was your first kiss like?: Awkward, nerve-racking, and surprisingly sober. And above all, nice.
How old were you when you got your first kiss?: 15.
Do you think love is worth nothing?: What kind of question is that? Love is definitely not worth nothing.
Best experience you’ve ever had with the opposite sex: D&D on Sundays. (Kira, I realize you are female, honest.) However...GUYZ, the sex jokes will never get old. I love that you see me as one of you. ~~Though Chris, please to stop stroking my arm in that creepy way. Thanks.~~ That or playing Counter Strike with Alex & Adam. And having them offer me extra turns at Russian Roulette. Thanks. Oh, and having Garth ask me for help with the Web Design pracs, and bickering about it all the while. And playing FF7 with psyniac_123 looking over my shoulder (& Emz, but again, not a guy).
If you are single, have you had any boyfriends/girlfriends before?: Yes, to my constant surprise.
Have you ever been dumped?: Yes.
Have you ever dumped someone?: Yes.
What?: To you too, sir!

I....

Am: Yawning.
Want: Too many things to enumerate.
Need: ...Too many things to enumerate.
Love: At the moment, I'm feeling particularly fond of psyniac_123, interling & Miri.
Hate: Tokio Hotel. My Software Engineering Assignment. Twilight for being so insidiously addictive.
Feel: Really tired, and guilty about not doing any work as always.
Did: That postcard I've been meaning to write for decades.
Miss: Everyone.
Am annoyed by: The fact that I keep on slouching. Bad Jenni!
Would rather: Be reading Eclipse.
Am tired of: Routine.
Will always: Twist the cap of my highlighter when I'm thinking.

MISCELLANEOUS

What is your favourite genre of music?: Alternative/vocal/poprock/folk/indie
What time is it now?: 00:17
How much money do you have right now?: A respectable amount.
Are you hungry right now?: A little peckish.
What are you doing right now?: This meme, A Month of Stolen Time, and yawning a lot.
Do you like parades?: I have never really experienced one (with the exception of New Orleans, which was quite scary, actually).
Do you like the moon?: Of course I do.
What are you going to do when you're done with this?: Go to bed. Goddammit.
If you could have any magical power what would it be?: Invisibility, because you can do anything with it. Really. It might take a little time, but...anything.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE

Funny?: In a very specific way, yes, so some people may like it and others may not.
Cool?: No. Hah.
Pretty?: Potentially. If I spend hours working at it.
Sarcastic?: No.
Lazy?: Yes. Shamefully so.
Hyper?: Extremely - more so, these days, actually!
Friendly?: Actually, yes. Very.
Evil?: ...potentially.
Unforgettable?: I try to be.
Smart?: About certain things, yes. Others - heh, not so much. *cough*geography*cough*
Strong?: I wonder.
Talented?: Not in the sense that...I've just worked hard at some things, and I feel like they're starting to pay off. For instance, I believe I can write songs well, I do.Because I've worked hard at it. It's been like, 5 years. So, yeah. Fuck societal pressure to be self-deprecating and modest. Yeah.
Dorky?: Excessively.

WHAT COMES TO MIND WITH THE WORD

High: Air
Lonely: Mountain.
Pen: Words.
Flower: Sun.
Window: Door.
Psycho: Mental.
Brain freeze: Stop.
Strange: Girl.
Sassy: Senorita.
Suffering: Ambulance.
Art: Painter.

WOULD YOU EVER

Skydive?: I'd need to be pushed and prodded and forced, but yes. And I'd be pleased.
Run away?: Not anymore.
Curse at a teacher?: Well, I certainly wouldn't let the fact that they're a teacher hold me back!
Not take a shower for a week?: Sure, how much do I get for it?
Ask someone out?: Yes, if I had any chance of getting a yes back.
Unscrew your cellphone too see what's inside?: No - who cares?
Lie to someone to make them think better of you?: Guilty of this one!
Visit a foreign country for more than a month?: Uh, yes. Who answers no to that?!
Go scuba diving?: Not for all the money in the world. ~~Well, that's not strictly true.~~
Write a book?: I already am. XD
Assemble a computer?: Oh my god, this would be so amazing I feel tingly just thinking about it.
Become a rock star?: NOW WHY WOULD I WANT TO DO THAT?
Have a long-distance relationship?: Not anymore. Not...not unless. Never say never. So, I don' t think so.
Marry someone you don't know?: Sure, give me a good enough reason!

LAST QUESTIONS ( FINALLY ) -

What kind of computer do you have?: Dell Inspiron 6400.
Do you like to throw popcorn at people in the movies?: What kind of son of a bitch does that?! Fucking hell. Who are these people?
How many posters do you have in your room?: Okay, so...11. I LOVE MY DEPECHE MODE POSTER. Have I mentioned this?