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I am in a computer lab burning endless copies of the choir's Rachmaninoff Vespers concert from last year.
ENTERTAIN ME. CASANOVA COMPELS YOU.
Or, you know, leave a drabble request and if I see it before I leave for dinner I'll write it for you tonight :)
ENTERTAIN ME. CASANOVA COMPELS YOU.
Or, you know, leave a drabble request and if I see it before I leave for dinner I'll write it for you tonight :)
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also, I answered your e-mail.
YOU MUST COME. BECAUSE THEN WE WILL HAVE THE TREBONDS AND ADAM AND LUCIFER UNDER ONE ROOF. MUST.
*ahem*
Drabble request? Um. THING. WITH THE THING. AND THE OTHER THING. I AM SO COHERENT.
Kaylee. Write me Kaylee, and her first boyfriend.
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I am like ninja-burner. I control multitudes of computers at once.
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Ooh, I like that.
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*RUNS TO BED*
Gosh, I need BSG icons. TOMORROW!
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*crosses fingers that you can make it*
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Also: my latest BSG fic (http://mercurial-wit.livejournal.com/30668.html) has a Boomer section. JUST FOR YOU.
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IN THEIR PLACE, SCIENCE:
My right forearm was once entirely submerged in ice and its melt for 2 whole, complete minutes. I am tempted to say 'give or take a minute' but when your flesh is dissolved in ice you don't give or take a minute. Half a minute. Two seconds. One. Not a fraction.
It was a science experiment. Heart rate. We all laughed when the arm went in, laughed at my explosive squeal: Cold! but I stopped laughing soon enough. After a few seconds, back when time was loose enough to come with descriptions like that: few. After a few, never.
Oh, I said. Oh my God. Please. Somebody tell a joke. Distract me. But my lab partners didn't.
On this occasion I thought of death, of green emptiness under the sea. Not the great hungry volume but sheer cold. I thought of what it would be like to have my entire body drifting in ice like this and not just one arm. I thought I might die on impact, die of the pure sudden constriction of my blood vessels, the shock of my heart: oh God. I hoped so. It would be kinder.
Please.
When time crawls for you it is racing for someone else. For someone whose turn it will be to put their heart in the water. For someone to feel death in ice creeping up, slowly up in their veins, as if they were Socrates.
[/nov.28.05]
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Drabble request! Go!
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showsmenfolk.no subject
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(Lucifer would totally like to shake War by the hand for so utterly traumatising Thom.)
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uh. I think the citrus is sexier anyway.
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*is evil*
HP crossover.
(hey, I was going to say BSG)
Re: *is evil*
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*helpfully provides inspiration*
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LYNNE YOU HO
YOU CAN'T SPRING THESE THINGS ON PEOPLE
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Awwwwwwwww
(understandably so)
Alright. Pointlessly happy GO/HP (there is never enough!) with the usual pairings, a certain bookshop in SoHo, a stuffed dog that sings "Singing in the Rain" and lovely jealousy. And a reference to history.
If you can, of course. *grins mercilessly*
Re: Awwwwwwwww
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umm . . . somebody/Raguel?
More than 1 somebody/Raguel? Even if it's just flirting?
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I HAVE TWO FOUR-HOUR LABS *seethes*
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You know that.
*sets up Anti-Holly wards*
*also distracts her with blindfolded icon, blown up poster-sized*
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I am seriously considering joining your bio, because THAT'S HOW BAD IT IS. Which bio is that, anyway.
Also, HAH, you're using the icon!
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Icon! But... drabble - must... stop. Ooo, icon. Drabble!
Iiiiiiiiiicon.
*explodes*