fahye: (zomg! (coupling: susan))
Map. Plot. Plan. Narrative skeleton. Thing. DONE.

Fahye's brain: *explodes*

Thank you, that will be all.
fahye: (leave all this to yesterday)
[livejournal.com profile] schiarire and I saw this musical in San Francisco. It's not a flashy song-and-dance spectacular, and it's no Les Mis, but it's fun and funny and very clever.

Apple Trailers is, as ever, a fantastic place to waste a few hours. Hugh Jackman continues his excellent script-choice streak with The Prestige (with bonus Christian Bale and Scarlet Johansson!), though it's interesting to see it coming out at the same time as The Illusionist (Ed Norton, Rufus Sewell & Jessica Biel. YES PLZ.). Renaissance looks very much like a cashing-in-on-Sin-City project, but that's not going to stop me from rushing to see it. I do not plan to see Say Uncle, but the trailer makes me giggle because it's EMMETT and CUDDY in a MOVIE TOGETHER. The Science of Sleep looks amazing, kind of Kaufmanesque, and I am very much in favour of Gael Garcia Bernal's recent projects: Babel looks good too.

Silver City-ers: I'm going to work my ass off and try to get the theory post up this weekend, so we can start throwing ideas around and bashing out a narrative.

For my own reference - the Lapis Exilis and the Aradia Gospel )
fahye: (omgwtf (politicians do it better))
[livejournal.com profile] fahye: You realise that this makes Thom LEGALLY his nephew.

There's probably a law against that.

[livejournal.com profile] schiarire: OH GOD.

YOU'RE RIGHT.

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ABOUT THAT. Luckily, the Trebonds are not known for their aversion to incest.

~

You freaks. Now look what you've done.
fahye: (storms taught me to fly (x3))
(Team Ethereal? I need to order my shirt, like, yesterday. Did we decide on the personalised design?

Rami, Selkie, Mir - the shirt is being delivered to your house. If Bast shreds it, there will be trouble and possibly even the withholding of Tim Tams.)



OKAY. EVERYONE. GO. READ THIS. NOW. [livejournal.com profile] miraielle is writing Peter/Caspian and it's absolutely FANTASTIC.

Halverson scoffs at Pevensie, who’s even odder than usual these days with his stones and sheets of paper, pushing the stones around, staring at them, pushing them back.

“Let’s play war,” Peter says one day.
fahye: (red and you - floating in the summer sky)
*waves arms*

Hello? Hello? [livejournal.com profile] villainny, [livejournal.com profile] varadia, [livejournal.com profile] unravels? This means YOU.

So Sophie and I were talking, and she got to fiddling with shirt designs. And she is genius, because:

EXHIBIT A

EXHIBIT B

...just, y'know, hypothetically, if she were to design ones with different coloured wings/names/text colours...which she may, actually, have already done...

Would you buy yours? :D

Fahye Dielle: I LIKE the idea of having the personalised one. but the other is a cleaner design
scuba soph: I am leaning towards the - yeah. Basically. But the personalised ones are so, like.
scuba soph: GO TEAM.
Fahye Dielle: I will see what everyone else thinks!
scuba soph: foist the decision on the masses!
Fahye Dielle: less demonically, BE DEMOCRATIC :D
scuba soph: - or that. ¬_¬
Fahye Dielle: admittedly my thoughts ran to the first
Fahye Dielle: you can tell which side of the moral line WE come down on

CLEARLY, ANGELIC INPUT IS NEEDED.

(O Entity That Is RamiSelkieMir? If I order mine, can I get it shipped to you?)
fahye: (so she has that neverland glow)
All right, Millifolken.

It's not like I can just ignore the date, can I? I'm going to the shops across the road to buy lunch things and cookie ingredients and then I'm going to post Lucifer into the bar.

Just so I know, and can gird myself appropriately for threadage: who's around? Who'd like to play with me?

ETA: And he's in. Consider the post open for tagging for most of today and probably a large portion of tomorrow; I won't be around all of that time, but it's not even 06/06 in some places yet :D
fahye: (a shot rang out)
2073: JANUARY: CHICAGO

The fountain lies in dust and dirty shards
of steel; this world from which we stand apart
is shuffled, broken, dealt like store-bought cards,
still bleeding from the (diamond spade and) heart.
The devil smiles like wire and laughs like glass,
I toss my head, the boy proposes toasts
to every corpse and jagged edge we pass,
to icy winds and streets now filled with ghosts.
So here we walk, the man the boy and I
(who now am Red of hair but not in name),
and in these urban trenches men still die.
The boy says they don't need you for this game.
I lift my hand and one blow falls, just one;
it's not unlike the firing of a gun.
fahye: (Default)
One day I'll go through my LJ seeing how many posts are for the express purpose of announcing my imminent not-here-itude. BUT IT IS NOT THIS DAY.

Today I'll just say: going back to the new apartment which now has a phone line and technically DOES have the ADSL all connected up, but we have hire the guy to get us a wireless router and set up a network and all that jazz.

So. Assume me offline until further notice.

I may be jumping sporadically online at uni in order to check my email, so if there's anything I need to know then tell me via that. Gen, Shati and anyone else involved in the Cathedraliffic Showdown Of Doom - just let me know if any plans are made, link me to the River-Meg threads and anything else pertinent, and I'll be in touch about scheduling the preplay as soon as I have Internet again.

Knowing me, I'll get a shitload of writing done without all you crazies around to distract me.

Ta ta.
fahye: (oy vey)
Uuuum. Everyone should go and be nice to Ji because she did a remix type thinger of the Turkey post and apparently if I don't delegate feedback to everyone else I'll have to do it all myself.



Anyway.



In other news, my JaNoWriMo has advanced 1224 words since the beginning of the month and is so frightfully cynical I'm going to be a depressed nervous wreck by the end of it. Hurrah.

Look at us. Living as though we’re waiting for something. Trying to pretend we’re not standing on the edge of the cliff trying to stare the sea down. Not enough courage to jump and let our useless fucking lemming-lives dissolve in the foam. No shallow sanitised gene pool for us to explore, just the anonymous depths.
fahye: (kthnxbye (mulan))
So, quite a while ago I promised both [livejournal.com profile] darthrami and [livejournal.com profile] lunamystic that I'd write them a Adam-Lucifer-Trebonds fic for their birthdays.

I wrote a sestina.

...don't hurt me?

not quite family: an analysis in six acts )
fahye: (red demonic doom bunny)
Fahye: I am choosing to believe that Simon is distracted and doesn't notice his baby sister going off to play drunk!poker with the devil
Gen: *snickers*
Gen: Possibly Lucifer has something to do with that?
Fahye: Lucifer: LOOK A HOT MECHANIC! *manouevres*
Gen: Now I am picturing a Jedi exchange.
Gen: Lucifer: *handwave* You don't have to notice this. Because it's much more fun without.
Fahye: *snorts*
Gen: Simon, dazed: I don't have to notice this.
Gen: Lucifer: You should go make out with Kaylee.
Gen: Simon: I should go make out with Kaylee.
Fahye: Lucifer: This is not the psychic genius you're looking for
Gen: *snickerfits* Yes.
Fahye: Lucifer: You want to go home and rethink -
Fahye: River: *kicks him*
fahye: (travelling teaspoon)
I need to add a coding box to my LJ, right next to 'Current Music' and 'Current Mood' - 'Current Tea'

I know I've inflicted this list on [livejournal.com profile] schiarire before, but I've been poking through the cupboard and it really is quite silly how much tea this household has:

As of the current moment: )

Lipton has gone quite insane with flavoured infusions lately. I tried the watermelon (yeah, I know) and lo, it did actually taste like watermelon. Hot watermelon. Melted watermelon. Crazy.

Also! Because it makes me happy - Lucifer finally meets River Tam. In which there are many tangents of logic and illogic, and Gen and I wave our educations around. Still being slowtimed.
fahye: (desmoulins wedding...again...and again..)
YESTERDAY

Fahye: It doesn't matter that the wedding ran late and I spent the evening watching TV. I have all of tomorrow! And half of Monday! Yeah, I'll get all my work done.

TODAY

Fahye: Mum? Yeah, I can't clean like I said I would, I need to work. I'll clean tomorrow afternoon! :D!

Fahye: *proceeds to spend nine. straight. hours. RPing*

Fahye: That was the best fun I've had in mon- oh. Oh, fuck.

TOMORROW

*will suck mightily*

~

So the fic is being shunted aside to make room for my panic re: biology reports and essays, but I'll give you all of my favourite sentences from it so far. *RANDOM*

I'm sure transgenerational nepotism is hardly the worst sin you've committed. )

~

Also, GIP. See current music and also: the crazy brains of [livejournal.com profile] schiarire and [livejournal.com profile] dredpiratejenny.
fahye: (whirligig)
Dear Tim Burton,

Would you like to design my life?

If Johnny Depp is involved that would be, you know, a bonus.

Love, Fahye.

~

With the colours and the light and the fantastic set pieces and the beautifully, beautifully symmetrical and precisely arranged camera shots. Mmmmm.

~

Photospam! )

ETA: *headdesks* Rami, Heather? Regarding this thread, Ji and I had this whole hilarious conversation about how THOM IS A FREAK and is at the moment reliving some kind of bizarre semi-incestuous Rogalanna death-kiss-farewell THING and then I CLOSED THE WINDOW because I am an idiot. But. UM. I'M SORRY, HOLLY. WE'RE NOT ACTUALLY NUTS.

Okay, well, just a bit.

There may also have been mention of how Raguel is going to need therapy, because dude is this fucked up.
fahye: (satan is my autopilot)
MILLIWAYS FRIENDING SPREE.

I don't know more than half of you half as well as I would like and fuck it, I think trying to adapt that quote was doomed from the beginning.

Anyway.

This is me. I play Lucifer and Galahad and Fina. On a few memorable occasions Becca has coerced me into playing La Carlotta, for great fun and crack and making Meg squeak. I live in Australia and so am absolutely awful at holding down complex plots and/or playing at sane hours and will very probably never get to meet anyone in real life, but, um, I write things and I update a lot and I'm usually not overly boring, and I will chat with most people crazy enough to be online when I am. I also write long, bizarre letters and send postcards with fluffy Aussie animals on them (yeah, awwwww) so go and drop your address over here if you're the receiving type.

And I'm on break.

Hi! :D

How's about you folken?

And who have I missed that I should get to know?
fahye: (delicat & essen)
You can just pretend I still have many icons and am using the Satan Is My Autopilot one, yeah?

This is what we do instead of sleep. Really, I think we win. )
fahye: (london calling (rose))
OMG I got a phone call from [livejournal.com profile] darthrami and [livejournal.com profile] miraielle and [livejournal.com profile] malachan and YAY PHONE CALL.

And I was in the library and had to run into the bathrooms to answer it and then sounded like a fool because the reception started off awful so I couldn't hear what Rami was saying and WHY IS THE PACIFIC OCEAN EVEN THERE AT ALL, DAMMIT?

At the risk of blinding you all with LJ tags: *upends an entire wastebasket of tissues WET WITH TEARS OF JOY onto [livejournal.com profile] copinggoggles, [livejournal.com profile] villainny, [livejournal.com profile] muffinbutt, [livejournal.com profile] indy_go and [livejournal.com profile] chaos_pockets*

Three beautiful threads in two days. You can't do this to me. My heart, my heart!

Oh, what the hell.

*chucks a few tissues at [livejournal.com profile] unravels, too*

RAGUEL NEEDS HUGS. I CAN'T BE BASTARDLY AT THAT.

Right. Right. Okay. I'm going to go and take furious notes on leukemia and adolescent same-sex friendships and short-term memory and try and remember that I have a life outside RP.

January 2019

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