The Tudors and The High Lord

I like that title, I like it a lot :).

I've been rereading the Black Magician Trilogy (again) and have discovered that the Novice (bk 2) is the best. Well, it's my favourite, at least, because it's where the Guild is how it should be. Like normal, somewhere I'd actually like to be. Plus, the main character is my age and in high school, and I really relate to her in that one.

And there's plenty of dark!Akkarin, which makes me happy, at least.

I'm up to the High Lord now (bk 3) and Akkarin's getting nicer and nicer. In a good way :)

On an unrelated topic, I read the third Return to Labyrinth comic, which I got for Christmas. I love those comics, they're really in the right style and tone for a sequel. Of course, now there's a massive cliffhanger, and I don't know when book 4 (the final installment) is coming out. I need to make Wikkid.X read them, they're amazing. With the canon J/S-ness, and Moppet! I love Moppet, especially when she has a John Smith/Human Nature moment in the third one.

Aah! I love them so much!

I'm also trying to resurrect my Tudor/Doctor Who fanfic. I found a way of getting Ten/Rose in there, not because of my complete fangirl love of them, but because 'romance' fics get more readers, and hey, it's what I want to read.

I know way, way too much about that historical period. I've been addicted to it since I was ten, and now I get to combine it with DW! I can't believe I had four months without looking at it! It'll go up on ff.net when it's done.

Right, I'm off to play on Brother's new PS3, and watch new Ouran episodes - in HQ because of DVDs.

Catch-Up (again)

Because I'm bored, here we go.

And yes, this is going to be another This-Blog-Is-Shamefully-Neglected Post. Because I have nothing interesting to say except for:

-Exams are HELL
-I get migranes from stress
-Having David Tennant all over everything is like a Christmas Miracle
-Especially reading bedtime stories
-Or dressed as an on-trend Ghost of Christmas Present, in skinnies, eyeliner, a Black Parade-esque jacket and with an accent to rival Alan Cummings in The High Life. And rocking the look like no-one else could.
-Or making me tear up in the Cafe Scene of Doctor Who
-Or chairing Buzzcocks, because that was brilliant.
-Bernard Cribbins is awesome. Like woah.
-Right Said Fred is actually a cool song
-He should write for the Boosh
-I've started a novel, and have over 57000 words so far, meaning I won NaNoWriMo *applause*
-There's a load of new 'Flowers' stories over on Idle Mind
-I now have a stack of books for Christmas up to my knee. My bookshelves are full!

I think that's just about it, really.

I'm now *teen! As of Wednesday, I'm a whole year older, and I am the proud owner of the most awesome boots I have ever seen. They're Doc Martins with roses up the sides, and as of yet no Nazi-eyed teacher has caught me wearing them.

And I won this for my Ouran HSHC fic:



Hoping to improve that place next time. Though that's an under-five-hundred-words contest this month, so maybe not.

Is there anything more epic than shouting along with Mika's We Are Golden on full blast? I don't think I've found it yet.

NaNoWriMo starts in a month, and my planning's going fine. I'm down to the scene-by-scene plan now, which will be quite a bit longer than the Shaman one was, as this is 175 pages of prose, as opposed to 100 pages of formatted script.

Party tomorrow with the gang. The one and only big group sleepover I'll ever have under this roof, and I'm really excited!

First New Update

Okay, first of all, even though all of two people read this blog, I'm sorry I didn't update quicker.

But enough of that... I'M *TEEN IN SIX DAYS!!!!! (yeah, you ain't getting my age just yet, internetweb) And the whole Gang is coming over for a sleepover, and we're gonna eat junk food and watch movies.

Fun :-D

Also, Wikkid.X and I have tickets to Taylor Swift at the MEN Arena!!! Yay!

Finally, NaNoWriMo is coming up in November, and I *finally* have an idea. I shall post the first chapter on my fic blog (The Children Of An Idle Mind) when it's done, so you can get an idea of what's going on. I can't wait!

Now off to the UCAS website. Miss I-Wish-I-Was-French, my old (ironically) totally English French teacher had a big lecture in class today about how if we don't know *everything* we want to do *right now* we will fail life. If we don't carry on with french, we fail instantly.

Yeah, right.

Wicked Lovely & Fandom updates

Okay, it turns out that Merlin was a stepping stone between obsessions. I HAVE to have an obsession: apparently my mind is unsatisfied with the Real World, and so has to find someplace else to live. I have three on the go at the moment, they never die, they just... shrink to make room. Right now, I have Doctor Who (constant and eternal, even in the face of new-and-crud!TARDIS, tweed!eleven, and miss-preppy-companion... see the Radio Times for full details), Labyrinth (since I was six, it has lain dormant. It's back, I daresay for good) and Wicked Lovely.

Wicked Lovely is the new kid on the block that is my mind. It's a series of books (three at the moment) centered around Faeries and their world. It's 'urban fantasy', fantasy set in a real-world urban setting. There are four courts: Summer, Winter, Dark and the High Court. It's AMAZING, and I've already lent my copy to Heather, I plan on forcing everyone in the Marauding Horde to read it.

Doctor Who... the new 'developments' are making it clear that it's time to make for the basement with a lifetime supply of nice food, an armchair, internet access, a massive TV and DVDs of the 'good old days' (the days of Nine, Ten, and their companions... mostly S1&2 for me). I don't want him to regenerate... I am rapidly losing faith in Stephan Moffat. RTD had his faults, but this is getting ridiculous.

Of course, I still miss Nine, and I hated him regenerating, but I love Ten more than anyone else in fandom. So, I will give the n00b a chance. I'm not exepecting much though.

Ome more thing: WATERSTONES STOCKS THE LABYRINTH MANGA!!!!!

That made me insanely happy yesterday. That, and coming home with seven books from Chester. I love second-hand bookshops, I would live in one if I could.

With that in mind, I intend upon walking to town and checking out 'book aid' tomorrow. I just hope they open on Saturdays.

Merlin and the Summer Hols

Basically, as the title oh-so-subtly suggests, I have recently re-watched Merlin, and the SUMMER HOLIDAYS HAVE OFFICIALLY BEGUN PEOPLE!!!!

Now, the Merlin that I love is NOT the BBC crapfest, okay? That show sucked OUT LOUD, with emo!kid from Midnight as young Merlin with teenage angst and rivalry/friendship with equally kiddfied Arthur. Now, Arthur was a kid, I get that, but Merlin was OLD by the time they met.

Guenevere was also never the ethnic chick. She was a blonde with no braincells, not the demographic box-ticker. But whatever, the point is that Merlin I like is (yet another) eighties/nineties movie which I am totally obsessed with, and have been since I was ten. That was... wow, pre S1 Doctor Who, that seems so long ago!

The strange bit is that the same bits that got me then still get me now. I am not talking about the bit that's MEANT to make you cry, the 'tragic' love between Merlin and Nimue. Because Nimue is a selfish, stupid little chit who really, really deserves no pity. Well, I feel for her cause her face got all burnt off, but she makes up for it by being so, so stupid and niave and generally *face palm* inducing.

It's Frik. It's ALWAYS Frik that makes me cry. Frik is the comic relief character, Queen Mab's wise-cracking, overworked, loyal servant who has such a tragic and touching subplot. He falls in love with Morgan Le Fey, uses his Mab-given powers to turn them both from ugly misfits into gorgeous, powerful, accepted people, and ends up having his heart broken, and every fact he's based his life upon proven false.

His last line "I just... love happy endings" always makes me tear up. I can't help it.

Harry Potter the Musical is seriously awesome. The girl playing Malfoy is amazing, as is the guy playing Voldemort.

Also, if you're in the mood for totally mindless fluff, there's the anime that Bubblemoon showed me over the weekend: Ouran High School Host Club Funny, confusing, unnaturally bright and often disturbing girly anime. It's fun though!

I'm now going to skip off and continue watching the aforementioned anime.

Matt Smith = EPIC FAIL

Alright, I know that I will be biased against anyone who takes over from Ten on Doctor Who. I know this, and The Walking Forehead is hardly someone I was gonna support.

However, I resolved to give him a chance. Maybe he'd wear an awesome outfit that would downsize The Forehead, or be a really good actor or something.

However, my approval went down after I saw this:



*Shudder* What the HELL were the wardrobe department THINKING?! I mean, Blue Suit is bad enough, at least DT is hot enough to kinda pass it off. But seriously... WHY THE BOW-TIE? HE LOOKS LIKE MY EVIL CHEM TEACHER!

I have serious, serious doubts about the wisdom of this, that's all I have to say.

Philosophy Games

Yeah, Philosophy today is in my IT room, and we're on TPM (the philosphy magazine). com. We're playing games that really seem more like Freudian tests, and are all designed to make you feel thick and bored at the same time.

So, yeah, right now I'm getting a scene-by-scene account of the Matrix, and then being told that all my views are WRONG! Isn't philosophy about debate? My opinion differs from the computer programmer's... doesn't make me wrong and him right!

Meh, I've seen the movie, analyzed it half to death, and discussed it with just about EVERYONE. Is it any wonder that I'm retreating to the world of the commonplace internet?

By 'Matrix Game' shouldn't you expect guns, violence and kick-ass martial arts? Apparently not, instead I get text that resembles an uncool, boring, preachy version of Zork. Zork, on the otherhand, has a storyline, grues, an Elivish Sword of Great Antiquety, and good descriptions which allow you to imagine the graphics. The Matrix Game has a load of badly-phrased, confusing, already cliched and outdated philosophical questions about Reason and Experience. Just because I disagree in places with Descartes does NOT make me a retard or naive or stupid. Okay? So why does this Matrix guy keep lording his 'higher knowledge' over me? Huh?

Doesn't help that I'm shattered and already annoyed right now. I don't feel like being all pretentious and sitting and going "hmmmm" and acting all involved and deep and interested. I want to go on ff.net or lj or something, and I'm sure GND will be up sometime today. I could even continue with my English coursework (oh the joys of GCSE huh), lessening tonight's workload.

*Sigh* At least I can get my biology done in IT this afternoon, since I'll already have blogged once today.

It would appear that NO-ONE is working. Ha! AND, Mrs G (again no relation to Mr. or Miss G from Paris) doesn't give a damn! I guess hippies can embrace the internet (even 'hippies' who print rainforests of paper every sodding lesson for useless 'handouts' that are hardly even gonna make it home, let alone survive to be revision material.)

What would the Beat Generation think of us? Aside from the general consensus that the "'Youth of Today' are so rude and are all hooligans!"

Lol, this is getting stupid. Lalalalalala...

*OMG*

Right now, I am probably not in the best mood for blogging, but here I go anyway:

Three things, firstly the general *omg*-ishness of this:


Yes, that is who you think it is. Credit to this post on LJ. Apparently he's the evil dude in St. Trinians 2. They've had Colin Firth, is this supposed to be some kind of logical progression? Are they working through every good British actor with their bad-movie-ness? He's not even playing a HOT evil guy. I mean, was it too much to ask for a hot teacher? Really? I think it would have been only fair after the Epic Death Of Ten.

Also, grey hair+grey suit = EPIC FAIL! Of course, I'll still go watch it, and I could probably at least drag Megan along with me.

Okay, second thing, tomorrow is the grand rehearsal for me and Wikkid.X. We're running through our peice with a load of the great and the good of our year's performers. Considering the extreme nerves I suffered at the Solo concert 2 weeks ago, where the audience was a few uninterested parents who were checking their watches the whole time so they could go home, imagine how badly I'm gonna be shaking when the whole of Year 10 is staring at us!

So yeah, with that resting heavily on my brain, is it any wonder that, in town with the (posse? Gang? Marauding Horde?) I bought three very good books and a Mika CD? I got another Eva Ibbotson romance (which are always beautiful and nice) a Faerie Romance (which seems to follow the general Laby-fic S/J template) and the single, most awesome book ever beheld by the eyes of man (or woman):

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies!

*hold for awestruck silence*

Imagine it. Then add Lady Catherine de Burgh's ninjas. You get close to the general awesomeness. I am looking forward to taking it to school on Monday and making Miss English Teacher's head explode.

IT... omg

Okay, this IT 'lesson' is really good so far. I mean, the class are all in their RE exam, but my RS class, because we took the whole GCSE, are all in one room. I just checked, and FF.Net and LJ are BOTH permitted by the server robots this week. Joy! :D

So, yeah, I have an hour to blog, search for FF, write, and listen to Tom and Jenny swear over Pac Man. Life is good!

Wow, there is a 5-year-old Labyrinth comm on LJ... how did I not know about this?! *signs up*... and there's probably a new GND (yay, because last week there was a rather *interesting* development... SQUEE!), but unfortunaly, while FF.Net and Lj are not blocked, DevART is. What the hell??

Wikkid.X and everyone are still in the exam... I just realized, I'm on this site proper! I don't have to cut+paste or anything! Yay!

I'm rereading the Secret Countess for, like, the 10th time. I'm serious, I know some bits off by heart, but I still never get sick of it. And yeah, the title sounds a bit... iffy, but it's by Eva Ibbottson, and it's got things like Eugenics, horrible war injuries and lots of UST, so it's good. I think I'm becoming obsessed with Russia, especially pre-revolututionary Russia. One more place that'll be nuked before I get to visit. Ah well. I think I'll search for Countess ff. You never know.

Nope. I guess it's not popular or interesting enough to spawn any sequels or anything. I think it's a bit rich of some of those authors who say, in the FF privacy policy, that they don't want FF written about their books. It's a bit selfish, really, and stupid. Labyrinth has been kept alive through FF, as has Star Trek. It's the only sure way that a book won't be forgotten: through fans. (Mien Kampf doesn't count... famous for evil, not merit.)

Everything else...

Alright, so everything from Paris onwards... okay...

Well, first there was the family holiday in Barcelona. Now, apart from a load of teenage angst, there's not much to tell, except for how I hate the heat, so Dubai and Sri Lanka (the Big Holiday) Is gonna be pretty damn difficult.

The Expedition was awesome! We walked miles, over hill and over vale, and ate chocolate and nuts, and sang "She'll Be Comin' Round The Mountain" with numerous bawdy and DoE related verses as we literally came around the mountain.

We ate *hot* boil in the bag, played cards, sang the "Plebeian" song, danced around a bonfire, watched Army Man throw meths on the fire, watched Mr. Scouse Lisp get pwned by Army Man, then played about some more in front of an amazig sunset.

We then got lost on the way home. But hey, c'est la vie.

Since then there have been stressful exams and coursework, but nothing else really to reposrt, other than Wikkid.X and I are entered in the school Solo music concert. She's playing Vanessa Carlton on the piano, and I'm singing along.

I'll let you know how that goes. :D

Also, Amy MacDonald rocks!

Work Experience and Paris

Okay, where to start...

Right, well first, I hate small children. I mean, okay, they LOOK all sweet and cute and innocent, but I swear they're evil.

Okay, maybe not, but I know that they can at least smell fear. I sat in that corner for ten minutes, watching those kids pick their work experience lackeys to follow around, and feeling rejected, for over ten minutes that first day of work experience. I'm sure that if I knew the kids, or there were less of them, or they were, you know, related to me, then I would be fine. I still wouldn't mind babysitting or whatever, just so long as I was being payed.

But I am NEVER becoming a nursery nurse. I think that there are just too many ways to screw those poor children up, and I don't think I can handle that kind of power. :D

Right, second, PARIS WAS AWESOME. First day, we got there in the evening, and (after dinner) walked to Notre Dame. Paris is so beautiful by night, I actually got to walk along the Seine singing "On My Own"! And there were these amazing fire guys there who we watched, who then started to throw fireworks and be generally awesome.

The beds were really comfy, which was a relief. The quality of the hotel is actually kind of important, so it was nice that we had nice beds (which tried to eat Megan... long story) and a decent breakfast.

The next day, we went to (and got lost trying to find) and massive, generic shopping centre in the business sector, La Defence. I wore my lovely turquoise summer dress, knowing that my mother would probably disapprove, so of COURSE it started to rain after lunch (outside posh McDonalds in the sun, in sight of the amazing 4th-dimentional building). We then went up the Tour D'Eiffel, on the cloudiest part of the week, and got an amazing view of Paris. I signed the side of the billboard type thing, so I really hope someone internetty sees that 'zotlot was here'. I also got a very classy black tea mug, which I use every day now.

We skipped Ms. K's suggestion of walking down from the second level, and got the lift back down to ground level. We went and bought 'Paris' t-shirts in a rather reasonable shop. We went back and chilled in the hotel for a bit, and I discovered exactly how vain I can be (yeah, the days of 'who cares how I look', 'dressing up is so anti-feminist', wearing baggy t-shirts and no make-up are loooong gone...). The bed ate Megan again, and I tried to read 'Polgara the Sorceress' in french, while Claire read 'Harry Potter'... again, in french (and way faster than me... I'm just saying...)

We went bowling that evening, after having a rather intresting conversation about a certain event which may or may not feature in Claire's future (she refutes it, but it so happened) and I discovered that vanity is one thing, but there is, in fact, a reason why they're called 'Killer' heels. I HATE HEELS, there, I said it. I didn't know the bowling alley could only be reached by metro. If I had, I would have worn connies or flats.

Ah well, I got used to it pretty quick, and enjoyed the sight of Ms. K, Miss. G, Mr. M and Mr. G (not related to Miss G btw) getting hammered. Well, Miss G got hammered, Ms K got drunk, Mr. M was tipsy, and Mr. G's bald head went red(der than usual). Miss G eventually ended up putting Ms. K in a HEADLOCK on the Paris pavement, after Ms K had given us a ten-minute infomercial on the joys of a French degree at Uni. We then walked to McDonalds (regular, not posh) where Ms K could be heard for miles around sssllluuurrring "French is so diiiirty"... with examples.

People were staring. Well, I wish that was true, but Paris on a Satruday night? Well, Ms K wasn't totally lying, that's all I can say.

We were up at 7:30 the next morning (thanks Megs) and we deeply regretted allowing trained, resonsable adults to keep us up till midnight the night before. We did Sacre Coeur, Momatre (on Sunday morning for a reason) and then had lunch at the Pompadou Centre. We ARE the Girl Geeks, representin'! We went in, of our on volition, and fooled someone into thinking we were FRENCH, to look at modern art (and say "I could so do that"... even with my art skillz, I reckon I could paint 'monochrome blue'... what a RIP OFF). We then ate crepes (Megan) a sandwich (Claire) and a delicious cheesy hotdog (all me...) in the shade, analyzed the complex social structures of our school, and indulged in gorgeous ice cream. The high point, I'm telling you.

Okay, I can see why Wikkid. X shortened this to two part-post. So, to sum up, Disney Land was a joke, bright, very, very sunny/hot, and so cheesy and sugar-coated I swear I had a cavety. We did go on Thunder Mountain... twice, ate a disgusting 'italian' meal, had a huge fight (Me vs Megan) made up, and ate toffee apples in 'Alice's Labyrinth' (yeah, me=yay!)... not in that order.

I slept the way home, through a lightning storm, and everyone was cranky when we got home.

Coming soon: DoE, Barcelona, and why I hate exams

Thank you, and good night.

IT... again

Okay, do I really have to say how boring this 'lesson' is? I've said it before, and I'll say it again... I hate IT.

What's more, Megan, who's sat next to me, took a full IT GCSE this year, with a different exam board. Apparently, she could have used these lessons to catch up, but instead she wasted time doing this crappier, lesser GCSE, thanks to our teacher. C'mon, that deserves a slow, sarcastic clap.

Said teacher is currently sat at HIS computer, browsing some bargain outdoor-world style shop. I have to keep one eye on him - thanks to the tell-tale bar at the bottom of the screen, even on my work page you can see 'blogger' in bright white letters.

Thanks Bill Gates, thanks a whole damn lot.

Right, rant over... it feels strange that I can't see Wikkid.x's screen from here (she's opposite me, so there is a lot of beeping hardware in the way). So I can't tell you if she's blogging too. However, since I think she makes up about 30% of my reader-base, I shouldn't worry.

There, draft saved. Now, I can click off this screen at any time, and then pick up where I left off.

I lost a compass on DoE, so he had to call me over and interrogate me about it. I really don't like being called by my surname. It's like, hey, I have a first name. And I know he knows it, I was in his yr8 class. Git.

Megan's reading as I type. And now whispering to Wikkid.X, who is apparently blogging too. Well, migrating, probably, but still.

Lalalalalalalalala... I think I should change the name of this blog. I always get 'Paper Bag' by Anna Nalick stuck in my head while I'm blogging.

Oh... It's late

Hokay, so, 11:30pm isn't usually so bad on a Saturday night, but considering the amount of sleep I've been getting lately (very little, since you asked), it really is.

So, I'm keeping this short, and... sweet?

Got back from Paris on Tuesday morning (bloody middle of the night, more like), and slept. I will post pics... when I get the chance.

Got back from family holiday to Barcelona a few hours ago. It was really fun (though Paris beat it), but two 12 year old boys and a bustling city? *Shudder*. And the Spanish metro? Let's just say that "now, would you go left, or, right?" in a certain accent became disturbingly applicable. Again, possibly pics, though the camera was not my property this time, so we'll see.

Full run-down soon, I was just posting to check in, and say that posts will be irregular for the time being due to exams/revision/fragging homework aardvarks/D0E (4 reallz).

Oh, and I am about 1/2 way through my fanfic, and have started another story (yes, another one), along with lots more writing stuffs, so lots to post.

Random but awesome fanfic

Okay, this is only a veeery short post to show this which is an awesome and very funny fanfic that I just discovered on LiveJournal.

And also, google 'new world order'... humans just live conspiracy theories, and running about like headless chickens over them, and this one's a dozy.

Hey, if there is gonna be a new world order with one government, I'm set... I'm already next in line for the title of 'evil overlord'...

DoE

Okay, Wikkid.X has already detailed the horrors of Wales when on a Duke of Edinburgh expedition (here and here), and I don't have much more to add. Well, except for my huge thanks to our lovely group-leader teacher, who kept smiling through the torrential, monsoon-style rain and evil ten-foot vampire demon cows covered in chainsaws.

And my eternal hatred (well, extreme dislike) of Mr. Pathetic-weedy-scouser-with-a-lisp continued with more ammo. Not only did he give us tents that house one less person than they needed to (resulting in three people in a tent made for two, and four in a *freezing* three-man tent), and no fuel burners so we were tired, frozen and starving by the end, but he then lectured us about being soaking wet from the monsoon.

Okay, I get that waterproof trousers are the best thing since sliced bread, but seriously, removing huuuge backpacks and boots in the middle of a muddy cow field? No chance. He lectured Megan who was so cold and wet that she looked half dead. He then argued with me when I explained why we didn't put on said waterproofs.

I think the 'argument' stare is genetic. My dad is as good at it as I am. Mr. Pathetic had also told us off for putting our bags in a part of the tent where they touched the outer layer, when, had we not, we would have had no room to breathe or move inside the tent. When I asked "why?", he told me specifically, "never say 'why' to me again!"

So, of course, Emma called 'why?'. It might well have contributed to Mr. Macho-outdoorsy-tech-git hauling us out in the middle of the night for 'infuriating him with our disrespect' (also my fault for making Georgia laugh while he was talking to us).

Yeah, I hate those two far more than I hate Welsh rain.

Phew, okay, I think that's it for now. New story might be up later.... I don't know.

Story: Game Over (Cyclamen)

Title: Game Over
Rating: U
Universe: Third in the Flowers 'verse, this flower being Cyclamen, 'resignation and goodbye'. I couldn't find something that I thought fit this one exactly... if anyone has any suggestions, go ahead.

-----

Louisa sat, now alone, waves of grief washing over her as Jonathon left, slamming the door to the café as he walked away for the last time. Her hands curled around her warm coffee mug, as she replayed their last conversation over and over again in her mind.

It was over: She had won.

She closed her eyes, rubbing them with her hands, suddenly exhausted. She saw his face behind her eyelids, no matter how hard she tried to shake it.

He did this, every time he left, every time she said something wrong, every time he did something so unforgivable that she said he had to go, he took her heart with him.
And every time he came back, she felt healed. The feeling was mutual, she had seen his heart break and freeze over, in tandem with hers, as they said horribly brief goodbye.

It was a vicious circle, the pattern in which they had lived their lives. He lied, she cheated, and somehow she always believed that all the pain was worth it for the brief weeks or months they would have in the middle, where they’d be recklessly, wonderfully happy.

But no more. The circle was broken. She herself had broken it, with no more than a few choice words, a diamond ring, and a bright smile. It had been an understanding, an unspoken agreement between them that in the end, when all was said and done, they would end up together. At some point they would stop playing the games of the young, and settle into the stability of middle age and beyond. Together.

She’d broken that deal, and she’d given up her seat on their roundabout. She was sick of waiting for him to calm down, and tired of crying in the middle of the night. She’d endured it for years, kept going by the hope that one day it would resolve itself. She’d taken the initiative, she’d ended it, futilely believing that maybe, when he was gone, the pain would leave with him.

She looked down at her hands where they still encircled the mug. The only warmth in the world that still seemed to touch her was the warm coffee in its striped cup, cradled between her ice cold hands. A white-gold, diamond ring glinted on her forefinger, as icy and frozen as the rest of her. For a moment, she hated the beautiful stone, as it sparkled on her finger. Because of this small, beautiful thing, she had lost something which now seemed infinitely more precious.

She took a deep breath, and straightened her spine. Louisa Carmichael was never one to bow down and cry. She rubbed the few, final tears from her eyes. She had done it. Finally, she had had her victory over the boy who had taunted and tainted her life since she was fifteen. He was gone, and she had made sure that he could never come back. This was it, this was the way that she had planned for it to go.

“I am young,” she whispered to herself “I am free, I am engaged to a wonderful man. And everything is going to be perfect.”

So why did it feel like everything had just fallen apart?

Star Trek woo!

OMG STAR TREK WAS AWESOME!

Okay, okay, breathe... right... okay.

It was frikkin amazing! I mean it had special effects like whoa, which usually doesn't make a movie better, in my opinion, but it was so cool the way everything came together.

I mean, we had hot!young!Kirk, and an awesome Spock and TIME TRAVEL! And black holes and supernovas and future-selves and 'live long and prosper' and explosions and *sigh* general, all-around awesomeness.

I spent the whole movie grinning like a lunatic. Yes, I have reached new levels of geekishness.

I think I might be on the slippery slope. I'm becoming a... trekkie!

Story: Please Look Twice (Yellow Tulip)

Title: Please Look Twice
Rating: U
Universe: Second in the Flowers 'verse
Summary: This one's more like a character's thought-process than a story, but it fit nicely

-------

Sally sat in Rosie’s Café, staring out of the window.

Her tea was cold, but if she noticed, she didn’t care.

Beep.

Her mobile buzzed: One new text.

Hey, do you have the final draft ready? I need it ASAP.

Cheers,
Aaron

And for a single, fatal moment, her mind drifted...

She saw him every day, in some form or another. As he walked past, her eyes were trained to his, and he was the only one in the crowd who mattered, no matter who else was there.

She knew him, so well, she had listened to every word he had ever said to her, every look was burned indelibly into her mind.

She needed him to see her. She did all she could think of: she stood in front of a crowd and risked everything to make him notice her.

She changed her hair, her clothes, her manners. She did everything she could to be the girl he wanted. But she still seemed as noticeable to him as wallpaper.

No-one could see, to look at her. Her face was blank, her eyes open to the world around her. No one could see that her senses were attentive to nothing but his every move, while her mind tried to rationalize this new presence in her consciousness.

She wanted him to see it too, but she couldn’t say a word. A whole world was stretched between them, a world of his ignorance or indifference to her thoughts and her feelings.

She had spent years just waiting for him to notice. A hundred times she thought that he had finally realized, and a hundred times she was proven wrong.

She knew that it would never go away. It was a shallow depth, a longing for the man in her head, not the man beside her. The perfect being who would see her for who she was, and give up everything to be with her.

And she knew it was stupid, and crazy, and self-destructive.

So she convinced herself to lock him out. Her heart and mind left, they dreamed about other faces as his sat, in profile, half a meter away.

She did this a thousand times. Every time, every lousy time, he found the key back in, without realizing he’d done it. They were friends, he knew her, on some level. She supposed that that was how he did it.

But he had never looked at her twice.

Her hands skimmed over the keys of her phone, the words flowing as she wrote back:

I’m at Rosie’s Cafe. Meet me?

Sally

Her hand hovered over the ‘send key’.

She sighed, and added one last line to her message:

xxx

Touching a Ghost (Azalea)

Title: Touching a Ghost (Azalea)
Age Rating: U
Universe: Hopefully the first in the Flowers 'verse... a series of little oneshots in a cafe, based around this list of flowers and meanings. Hopefully, I have some ideas...
BETA: Un-BETA'd, due to its short, random nature.
Summary: A random drabble I did based off a p+i prompt, though this is a re-written version.

Opal sat alone, stirring her now stone-cold coffee, lost in thought. The café moved in a whirl of colour and sound, people going about their lives in fast-forward, while she moved in slow motion. Sealed off in her bubble of silence, of peace, she saw a face before her that was so very, very different than those of the others in the room. It was a beautiful face, scarred and lined from a million betrayals, but somehow more glorious for the fact that it had made it through all of them. This was a face that had seen the rain, and now shone in sunlight. It was a face she knew in her dreams, a face that looked at hers in equal parts adoration and intense, heartbroken longing.

Her features mimicked his, sadness and love aging her face long beyond her youthful years. His ghost-hand reached out its elegant, musical fingers and her small hand followed, until their fingertips met in the middle. A tear rolled down her cheek, as the beautiful image shattered before her eyes, her fingers still extended, reaching out to thin air.

Story: Riot Van

Title: Riot Van
Author: zotlot
Rating: U
Universe: the Real World (I know, *gasp*)
Summary: A random drabble I wrote for English class. We had to take one of two songs (I chose 'Riot Van' by The Arctic Monkeys) and write a story about a character from it. Here be the result:

---------

Saturday night at Gerry’s Bar. The old guy’s a soft-touch… and a touch blind the only place in town where us underagers can get a drink these days. Down-town Belfast really lights up at night, a mix between shady neon and police car lights. The thump of music from the pubs merges with the sound of fist-fights in the back streets.

It’s a bloody mess. A violent mismatch of ignorance and violence and desperation and politics.

So we walk home, and I’m far more smashed than usual. Johnny-boy carries me for once, the pavement blurs before my eyes and the blood pounds in my head. It’s strange tonight, ‘cause it’s usually me who’s nearly sober, walking, not staggering, home to a darkened house, as filled with desperation as anywhere else. But then, it’s not usually Mary’s birthday.

Every year, I run as fast as I can away from home. I choose lose myself in a bottle, rather than in misery. But I don’t know what Dad does, stuck in that old house, all alone. He doesn’t seem the type for old photos, but I guess I don’t know the old guy that well. Maybe we’re more similar than I thought, maybe he’s the same as me, as bad as me. Maybe he’s off his face, giving lip to some PC, same as I am.

Without Mary to hold us back, we do as we ‘ave to. We turn into animals, we follow instinct and run, as fast as we can, we hide in the bottom of a bottle of beer. We can’t stop the stupid words we speak to block out her voice in our heads. We piss off some copper, and get beaten half to death in the back of a van.

And all to forget, always to forget.

Camp equipment and boredom

We just went and bought roughly £40 worth of camping equipment for DoE next week (one week... eek!). I realized that, for the next three Saturdays, I'm not going to be in the country, because next week's DoE in Wales (it counts, right?), then the 23rd's Paris (YAY!) and the third is Barcelona (Woo!).

Wow, I'm going to be shattered.

I need to do some writing or homework, not mess about blogging and playing Tetris. I got about 1300 words of Tudor done, and I need to do more planning on either my angst-story or happy-then-angst-story. Then editing Script. Not necessarily in that order.

These entries are getting more and more random, aren't they?

Getting up at 7:30 am... on SATURDAY

Yeah, I'm up early and I don't like it. The world was not meant to be seen on a Saturday before 10am at the earliest.

Okay... news... news... Oh, yeah, I got my hair done! I have lovely blonde and red highlights... *wheeeeee!* That'll show those scary dancer girls at singing group.

And a massive pile of revision to do over the next three weeks. It's like those teachers can smell the prospect of non-school time, and automatically want to fill with void with work.

I'd probably link to a GND post here, but Wikkid.X has done enough of that. So, I'll link to the whole thing instead, anyone who reads this can work it out for themselves.

That's the nice thing about this, because no-one (with the possible exception of Wikkid.X or maybe Bubblemoon) will ever read this. I could type anything I like, and no-one gives a damn.

Lalalalalalala.... I'm gonna continue Tudor Fanficing now, I might have another chapter churned out by the end of the day.

Futurama and Boredom

Futurama is awesome, no two ways around it. :D

I can't decide whether I should transplant my stories from my old account to here, or onto a new blog, or maybe I should just leave them where they are. Yeah, I think I'll only post new stuff here.

Well, that was pointless. I really have nothing better to do, though, than sit here and blog about nothing. La la la la la...

I think everyone's going to see Star Trek the Movie on Sunday. Well, except Pretty-pink-paper, she's going on a church weekend.

Meh, I think I'll go for a walk. Then I need to do some major typing.

It re-post

Yeah, IT... again. Now sat between Wikkid.X and pretty-pink-paper (yeah, that's her internet name... none of our parents were quite that cruel), so away from the annoying monkey boys of last time. Plus, I can actually type this time, rather than re-posting back at home.

Lol, Wikkid.X is blogging too... which reminds me. Pretty-pink-paper was being bullied again by our gang about her kiwi fruit. The kiwi is most definitly funnier than the apple, the carrot or the grape... but it comes a slow second to the banana.

Hey, I don't write this stuff... oh, wait, I do. :D

I'm really glad that this page looks official, it means less chance of getting caught.

I wish I could see the ducklings from here. They're in the little pond on the quad, and I was watching them all through History. They're so adorable! Their mum was teaching them to swim, and one of them was scared so she pushed it in, and then it was quacking happily with it's mates... yay!

That sounded rambly... I'm gonna do some work now, so I'll post at the end of class.

I'm so dead if there's a fire.

And I lost my work experience forms. So, if they don't show up at home, I'm gonna be forced to spend TWO WEEKS cleaning toilets at school. Joy.

Meh, I'm humming 'you can't stop the beat' from Hairspray. We have to sing it in the June concert, and it has ACTIONS. Me, dancing and walking in circles and oh dear oh dear. Pretty-pink-paper will attest to my appalling sense of rhythm.

Wikkid.X is still blogging.

I'm really sick of screen capping everything, including web searches. I mean, I understand that if you were forty and had only just learned where the 'on' button was, but seriously, we're the 'MySpace' generation. We know how to do things that my IT teacher couldn't begin to imagine, and we do them while msn-ing each other and blogging.

Hehe, I might get caught. :)

Pretty-pink-paper has worked constantly. I have not. Ha.

Gotta go, end of the lesson!

Um... hi?

Hi, um... this is my new blog. I got bored with my old one... I can't decide whether to bring my posts across or not... meh, if I do, I'll do it later.

Important thing: This blog is a fresh start... although, it may die if it doesn't work on school computers, we'll have to wait and see...

I think that's it, just posting to check in!