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Mar. 10th, 2007 02:42 pmI'll start by saying that this hasn't been the best week for me in RL. Nothing dramatically bad or anything; nothing's even really happened except for a few mild stressors, which is half to be expected with finals coming up anyways. I've just felt myself slipping back into some habits I thought I'd kicked long ago - i.e., interpersonal paranoia, demands for attention, and general emo and malaise. It's minor slippage in one particular direction more than anything huge, but it's still enough to make me uncomfortable with myself. So: best to curb the habit now, before it grows.
Sun and literature are of course like wonder drugs for me when it comes to putting things in perspective, and I've been dosing myself with them in abundance. However, at the risk of sounding tragically sappy, I do think the best way to cure my self-absorption is to do things for other people.
This is where you guys come in. This post is space for you to tell me what I can do to make you happier. If you want me to write fic, I will do my best! If there's a fic I promised you a while ago and never got around to writing, kick me in the pants for that too. If there's a thread you want with me, tell me here, or if you want me to ramble about a topic (hopefully one that I know at least something about), I will ramble at will. If you want me to make you icons . . . well, they will be crap, but I will do my very, very best. If you want me to send you a song, I can do that. Or, if you want, just comment and I will tell you exactly why you are amazing and I love you.
This is open season on any of those, or any combination thereof. If I can't fill your request right away because it's something that takes time to do, it will definitely be done sometime over the next two weeks. And if there's anything I can do that I've forgotten to mention up there, tell me that too, and I will do my best to comply.
Except possibly 'give me large sums of money,' as, alas, I do not have the large sums of money to give away.
Sun and literature are of course like wonder drugs for me when it comes to putting things in perspective, and I've been dosing myself with them in abundance. However, at the risk of sounding tragically sappy, I do think the best way to cure my self-absorption is to do things for other people.
This is where you guys come in. This post is space for you to tell me what I can do to make you happier. If you want me to write fic, I will do my best! If there's a fic I promised you a while ago and never got around to writing, kick me in the pants for that too. If there's a thread you want with me, tell me here, or if you want me to ramble about a topic (hopefully one that I know at least something about), I will ramble at will. If you want me to make you icons . . . well, they will be crap, but I will do my very, very best. If you want me to send you a song, I can do that. Or, if you want, just comment and I will tell you exactly why you are amazing and I love you.
This is open season on any of those, or any combination thereof. If I can't fill your request right away because it's something that takes time to do, it will definitely be done sometime over the next two weeks. And if there's anything I can do that I've forgotten to mention up there, tell me that too, and I will do my best to comply.
Except possibly 'give me large sums of money,' as, alas, I do not have the large sums of money to give away.
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Date: 2007-03-10 11:25 pm (UTC)*counter be-decks you with glitter*
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Date: 2007-03-10 11:43 pm (UTC)Well, I do not expect any of the Buffy fic you have promised me, because you do not have immediate access to the show. But I would love Heroes fic by you -- especially of the broader Petrelli family (um, by which I mean "including Claire"), atm. OR MOHINDER AND SYLAR HAVING A TEA PARTY. With Peter.
Is there anything you'd like from me? Aside from, um, all those icons I've promised you; those I know about.
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Date: 2007-03-11 12:47 am (UTC)*also, fake grumpiness* This is not a stroking-my-ego post, this is a letting-me-stroke-yours! So I shall: You are wonderful, Carrielet. Seriously one of the nicest and sweetest people I know, and I am SO excited to be seeing you soon (and speaking of which, staying in the dorm is a thumbs-up. :D!)
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Date: 2007-03-11 12:49 am (UTC)Warm fuzzies are nice.
*warm fuzzies to you.*
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Date: 2007-03-11 12:52 am (UTC)Psh. You always say nice things about me. It's time I say wonderful things about you. (And yayayay! :D!)
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Date: 2007-03-11 12:54 am (UTC)However, more Ingress-Mary futurefic would make me squee. :-P
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:02 am (UTC)I would also love Heroes fic from you! But . . . you are already writing some. :O Thus foiling my plans in advance.
I will probably write something longer for you later. For now, however, you may have this!
*********
Peter eyed Sylar warily across the table.
"So . . . you're reformed now."
"Completely," Sylar said, earnestly. "I'm really sorry for what I did before - and I'm not just saying that because you're overly idealistic and easy to manipulate." He looked down at his hands, clearly overcome with emotion. "I just - don't know what came over me."
"Well," Peter said, with a small frown, "I guess everyone does deserve a second chance."
"It's perfectly natural that you'd be having a difficult time adapting." Mohinder took a sip of chai. "Your abilities are simply extraordinary; the ordinary mind isn't able to cope. Pass the sugar?"
Sylar passed it.
"Thank you. As I was saying - I think my father simply went the wrong way about it. He enhanced the instabilities already inherent in your worldview as opposed to trying to help you adapt. He was a great man of science, I'm afraid," Mohinder said, respectfully, "but common sense was never his strong point."
Sylar and Peter looked at each other, and then at Mohinder, and remained politely silent.
"In any case! I feel that we must continue to hunt down those on the List; though they are no longer in danger, of course -"
"Of course," agreed Sylar, salivating a little.
"- they must be encouraged to get the psychiatric help that they need. Perhaps we can set up a center!"
"I don't know." Peter looked a little doubtful. "I guess it's good to be helping people, but - I just feel like I should be doing something bigger. Like I have a destiny."
"It's thinking like that, my young friend," Mohinder said, sternly, "that led our friend Sylar down the wrong path."
Peter gulped tea, mutinously, and grabbed for a scone.
"Well, I think it's a great idea," Sylar said, with a bright smile. "I think we really need to find all those people . . . all those people wasting their powers . . . all that strong, mesmerizing ability just waiting to be tapped . . . to be brought out . . . to be -"
He broke off, as he realized that Peter and Mohinder were both staring at him, and hastily held out the plate of pumpkin pastry.
"Pie?"
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:08 am (UTC)I could do with a bit of love, I think.
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:09 am (UTC)You are awesome and loved for many reasons! Because you are constantly enthusiastic about the things that you love, and enthusiasm makes the world a happier and sparklier place; and because you are never afraid to speak your opinion, which I admire even when I don't agree, and I also don't think I have seen you be unfriendly to anyone ever. Which takes skill to balance, and is a very important thing, on both counts.
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:10 am (UTC)And as for futurefic . . . watch this space. *beams* *innocently*
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-11 01:16 am (UTC)Stress is bad. *firm* Love is good, and you deserve it in abundance, because you are a.) some kind of genius (seriously, just the thought of write Merriman terrifies me, because he is so much smarter than I will ever be, and you not only write him but write him insanely well and that takes wisdom far beyond my ken) and b.) somehow manage to pull off being so genius and clever and funny without being intimidating or scary or anything, and make people want to be around you as well as watching from a distance in awe.
And you make me want to read, like, nonfiction political books, which is a feat, let me tell you.
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:43 am (UTC)*cries*
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:44 am (UTC)And
Eeeeee. *luff*
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:49 am (UTC)If I read bandslash, it would be yours I was reading!
*hijacks Becca's journal in order to send more love*
Date: 2007-03-11 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-11 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-11 02:08 am (UTC)Off to listen to Welsh folk music now, see you in two or three hours.
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Date: 2007-03-11 02:15 am (UTC)When you get free time again for rp stuffs, we should totally try and do a Wasteland thread with Preston and Salla talking about manly things, like their past relationships! :D We keep saying we'll do it and don't have time. LET'S! :D!!
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Date: 2007-03-11 03:58 am (UTC)That was on my list of Things to Write Before End-Quarter anyways. It will not be this weekend, because I want to make it Actually Good, and I will not have time to do that until Wednesday probably. But, like Viv, watch this space. :D
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Date: 2007-03-11 03:59 am (UTC). . . which, you will already have, when you see this, but it is the thought that counts. And yes I am!
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Date: 2007-03-11 04:03 am (UTC)(You will find the right hat someday! Don't give up hope!)
And YES. We must yes! :D Sometime after Wednesday? Because I have papers due after that, but there are several days between each paper, as opposed to actual finals early this week.
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Date: 2007-03-11 04:31 am (UTC)*DYING*
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Date: 2007-03-11 06:15 am (UTC)*EMBRACES WITH LACE AND FLUFFY THINGS*
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-11 01:04 pm (UTC):D?
Alternately, somebody unlikely getting a tour of Ohtori. Possibly Mohinder!
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Date: 2007-03-11 01:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-11 05:43 pm (UTC)Watch this space!
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Date: 2007-03-11 05:46 pm (UTC)But thanks. :D *beams and hugs you*
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Date: 2007-03-12 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-15 07:36 am (UTC)Hey, I just scanned the above, so am sorry for badness in general of week. I have been in a really bad shattery mood recently myself. I want to apologize for being all D: tonight and then disappearing. I just can't keep track of details, I guess, and it's really started getting to me in the past week or two. Um. And meebo died. So did not just leave. <3 Goodnight, you.
Love, hugs, and apologies,
-TL
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Date: 2007-03-15 07:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-15 07:54 am (UTC)You have nothing at all to apologize for! I am so sorry you have been in shattery mood. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, okay?
*snugs again, with much love*
*heliumvoice* For YOU!
Date: 2007-03-16 02:16 am (UTC)It was to keep away from them that she had first found the place in the back; it was a small corner tucked away between the house and the garage. She brought her books there. They were the only things she had brought with her from the apartment, other than her clothes. Lucy had asked her if there was anything else she would like. Mary had said that she did not care.
Lucy had asked her a great many things, and Mary had said, every time, that she did not care.
She was not sure how she felt about Lucy. She knew she did not like Lucy's husband. He was a common policeman, which meant that he had no class and only went about spoiling people's good times because he was jealous of those who did - this is what her mother and father had said, and although Mary had not particularly liked her mother and father she saw no reason not to believe that what they said was true. But she wasn't sure about Lucy.
She did not want to like Lucy. She did not particularly want to like any of it.
So she stayed in her corner and read and poked sticks in the ground to play at gardening, and came in for meals when she was called, and commented flatly on things that she had liked better at home. The children glared at her, and the grown-ups glanced among each other and frowned.
It was like this for a week, at the end of which Lucy came and sat down on the ground in front of Mary's hiding spot. It caught Mary off-guard. (She had not thought that grown-ups ever sat on the ground in the dirt; it ruined their clothing.)
"It's a nice spot, Mary," Lucy said, which gave Mary time to regain her stiffness. She scowled, and said nothing.
Lucy looked at the things Mary had poked in the ground - sticks, mostly, with blossoms fallen from trees stuck on the end of them. They did not look very much like flowers. "It's a very nice garden, too."
"It is not, really," Mary said, in her flat careless voice. "It is only pretend." She wished she could say that she had had a nicer one at home, but of course she never had.
Lucy considered this for a moment. "Would you rather have a real garden?"
"I do not care," said Mary, which is what she had said any time Lucy had asked her if she would like something; but then she looked around her tiny hiding spot, and added, "There isn't room for one."
"Well," Lucy said, "not in here, no. But there's room out in the yard."
There were flowers in the yard. Mary had thought them very pretty, but she hadn't said so. She stayed silent.
"There are a few places," Lucy went on, "I would have liked to have more in the garden, but I don't have time to keep it all up by myself." She looked at Mary. "I would like it very much if I could give you some to take care of."
"I do not know how," Mary said, but she said it a little hesitantly. The flowers were very pretty.
Lucy answered matter-of-factly, "I can teach you that." She looked at Mary and added, "It would still save me time in the long run, you know. Having someone to help me with them."
"If you like." Mary's tone was as flat and careless as before.
"I do like," Lucy said, and smiled at her, getting up. "I would like that very much."
She got up and left Mary, who picked up her book again. She was thinking, though.
She thought - perhaps - she was looking forward to learning to grow plants. She was not sure she remembered looking forward to anything before.
Re: *heliumvoice* For YOU!
Date: 2007-03-16 02:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 05:58 am (UTC)However, she did not usually have a small, rather overstuffed valise at her feet.
“What’s all that, Mary?” Ingress asked, looking down at the case in some puzzlement.
“Things I need,” Mary answered, matter-of-factly. “Some books, some things for the garden, two changes of clothing – I should have brought more but I did not have room.”
Ingress’ eyes widened. “Things you need? Mary, are you running away?”
“My uncle locked me in my room,” Mary said, her scowl deepening. “He was going to pack me off to a convent school or some such place – only because he saw me at the brothel! It is not as if he has any room to talk, for he was there when I saw him – and I did not even have a chance to go in – but of course he would not pay any attention to that. He is so –” She gropes for an appropriate word, rolling her eyes, and announces finally “Victorian.”
Ingress nodded sympathetically. She didn’t need to ask how Mary had gotten out, although lockpicking was one skill of Mary’s that Ingress didn’t possess – who needed it when you could Open? “I’m sure someone will be able to talk some sense into him eventually,” she offered, with her usual optimism. “Colin doesn’t want you to be sent away, does he?”
“Colin,” Mary said, with some indignation, “thinks it is all too too terribly funny. He was still laughing when I came here. I do not think he will be of much help for some time.” (Mary, it was very clear, didn’t see the humor in the situation at all.) “But in any case, it does not matter if he does not; I can take a room here for some time, only,” she adds, frowning a little, “I do not know how long my allowance that I have saved will last. But I have saved quite a bit. And perhaps I could take a position as a gardener or something like that –”
Ingress interrupted, laughing, before Mary could say anything more. “Oh, don’t be silly! Of course you can come stay in the House of Arch. Tom and Door won’t mind at all, I know it. You can come to my lessons with me – I know you’ve been wanting to learn swordfighting, I could help to teach you – and you can borrow my clothes if you run out, Tom’ll enchant them to fit, we can talk all night and everything,” she went on, happily, “it’ll be like a long sleepover!”
A few of the worried creases eased out from Mary’s face, though she still looked somewhat anxious. “You are quite sure? I should like that, of course, but I should hate to be an imposition –”
“You’ll be far less trouble than Gavroche,” Ingress predicted cheerfully. “He’s getting into trouble almost all the time now – he keeps stealing things from the nobles he doesn’t like. Of course he gives them back, but it makes them furious. And flirting with their daughters, the ones that have them, and they like that even less.”
Mary looked momentarily intrigued by this – after all, she had never achieved her goal at the brothel – and then shook her head, clearly dismissing the idea. She and Gavroche had never gotten along very well. “Very well, then,” she said, with one of her rare bright smiles, and stood. She picked up her valise, and the two girls headed towards the House of Arch portrait, passing Tom coming out the other way.
“Tom,” Ingress called, as they passed, “Mary’s coming for a sleepover.”
“All right,” Tom answered, happily innocent of any of the greater complexities of the situation. “Remember to tell Door there’ll be one more for dinner, then.” He headed towards the bar to order a drink.
He was still sitting there, going over some policy notes, when Archibald Craven stormed into Milliways and marched over to the bar next to him to demand of a thoroughly confused bartending turtle where his wayward niece had gone.
Aaaand what happens after that should probably be written by either you or Rym. *giggles*
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Date: 2007-03-24 06:38 am (UTC)Mohinder reminded himself of this often, and told himself not to be discouraged; nonetheless, maintaining optimism was slightly difficult when he was halfway down the List, and not a single person yet had agreed to talk to him. (He wasn’t sure when the List had acquired capital letters in his mind, but it most decidedly had.)
He picked up the phone and dialed the digits attached to the next name. It was, unusually, not an American number. He couldn’t remember which country the code signified offhand, but from the name his guess would be Japan.
“Excuse me?” he said, and asked for the name on the list.
“I’m sorry,” said a rich, cultivated voice. “She’s not available right now. This is her brother speaking.”
“Oh.” Well – at least she hadn’t had the chance to slam the metaphorical door in his face yet, Mohinder told himself, and continued gamely on. “Well, perhaps you could give her my name and number? I’m afraid it’s quite urgent that I speak with her.”
“Might I ask who’s calling?”
“My name is Dr. Mohinder Suresh. I’m conducting a study –”
“Dr. Suresh,” said the voice on the other end; it conveyed pleasant surprise and appreciation. “Yes, I think I’ve heard of your work.”
“My father’s, more likely,” said Mohinder, a little stiffly.
The speaker didn’t appear to have noticed his interruption. “It’s quite an honor for my little sister to hear from you. Is there some way we could help you?”
“Ideally,” Mohinder said, hopefully, “I would be able to speak with your sister, and perhaps conduct some studies – nothing at all invasive, of course. I’m a geneticist. Your aid, of course, would also be most helpful –”
“A geneticist, yes,” echoed the other voice, thoughtfully. “Tell me, Dr. Suresh –”
Mohinder’s apartment was suddenly flooded with the noise of an engine starting. Puzzled, he glanced out his window, and saw a large truck driving away on other side of the street, which would, he supposed, explain it.
“- your work with genetics . . . it’s been misunderstood by the world at large, hasn’t it.”
“I suppose you might say so – but it’s really very important,” Mohinder added, hastily; perhaps he could at least keep him talking until the girl returned. “If I have a chance just to speak with your sister, to perform a few simple tests, it could – it could be revolutionary! I must be able to continue my work.”
“I see,” said the voice. “The path before you has been prepared.”
Mohinder wasn’t quite sure what this meant, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt to humor the man, so he agreed, “It’s an evolutionary imperative, Mr. –”
“Ohtori. Akio Ohtori.” The voice sounded as if it were smiling. “Well. It seems, Dr. Suresh, that your only hope is to revolutionize the world.”
“I hope to do so, Mr. Ohtori.” Mohinder held his breath, and tried not to hope too hard. Surely that meant –
“I think we have a great deal to discuss,” said Ohtori smoothly, and Mohinder almost fainted (although this was, in part, from holding his breath). “Dr. Suresh, I think you should come visit me and my sister. I think we can probably be very helpful to each other. Don’t worry about plane tickets; I’ll arrange everything and send you the information.”
Mohinder’s jaw dropped open. “Mr. Ohtori, I – are you certain? I do have work to perform here –”
“Of course it will all be on the Ohtori books, so don’t worry about expenses,” said Ohtori, as if Mohinder hadn’t spoken at all. The smell of roses filled the room. Mohinder looked out the window again, puzzled, and saw that a flower truck had pulled up outside his apartment to deliver to the grocery store across the way.
Ohtori was still speaking. “I look forward to seeing you very soon, Dr. Suresh,” he said, and it sounded, once more, as if he were smiling. “I’ll come in my car to pick you up.”
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Date: 2007-03-24 06:42 am (UTC)This is perfect and wonderful. YAY!
Thanks, Becca Lou Who!
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Date: 2007-03-24 06:42 am (UTC)>:D!!!
*just miiiiiight be snickering*
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Date: 2007-03-24 07:44 am (UTC)...he'll send her to Miss Minchin's.
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Date: 2007-03-24 11:34 pm (UTC)*giggles* . . . . but that can only lead to the horrible Little Princess/Secret Garden crossover of WRONG. :O
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Date: 2007-03-25 12:30 am (UTC)