stormyheart: (silly)
We were celebrating Guy Fawkes Day! The adults decided that a big bonfire outside was potentially too dangerous, so there were mini-bonfires for each of the years. This was an opportunity to meet our new exchange student from China, Lui ([ profile] discipuladc, sp??) and introduce her to the hijinx of the Marauders and the Slug Club. Mwahaha.

Unfortunately, she is also a communist, so there were some...shall we say, heated discussions. Isabelle with her chill French manner was just sitting back watching all of this thinking how terribly uncivilized and uncouth everyone was being, and she kept trying to be peacemaker. Izzy and Zephora also attempted some hugs, but that didn't always go over so well...

Illene: It is America, there are cows, and tumbleweeds.
Mary: Dude, there are no tumbleweeds in Kansas!

Mary & Lui are fighting about the merits of communism vs. capitalism/freedom...
Isabelle: I think you guys need a hug.
Mary: *gives massive bitchface to Isabelle*
*ooc, [ profile] shysylph & [ profile] leighleighla dissolve into laughter*
[ profile] shysylph [ooc]: Sorry, I had to!!

James [to Lui]: Right now, Gryffindor is your China.
Lui: Well, Gryffindor -does- have alot of red...

As [ profile] leighleighla put it, this game was totally on crack, but in a good way I think. I haven't heard us laugh that much in game in quite a while!


I also found my notes from a game awhile back when our class was forced to do a team-building exercise. I don't really remember what we did a team... or why? (something about in-class fighting...?), but a few of the quotes stand out on their own.

Mary [to Illene]: Holy shit! We actually agreed on something!

Zephora [to Mary?]: You almost got groped by Remus while we were dueling, and I totally take full credit for that.

Illene [regarding the team-building exercise]: They lured me in with tea, dammit!
stormyheart: (Default)
So who is this Scott Pilgrim fellow, and why is everyone making such a big deal out of his movie?
stormyheart: (waterfall)
Continuation of the previous blogathon entry by [ profile] shadesong. This part moved me to amazing.

Please sponsor her for blogathon or bid on auction items!

Originally posted by [ profile] shadesong at Blogathon: Cicatrix

"And the music?"

"You said you smelled me when you first met me."

A small laugh escaped you, because you know it sounds absurd.

"What scent was in your world... music was in mine. Not just an extra sense, but a extra language... not even just based on music hat was deliberately sung or played, but on movement. We didn't dance to music-"

"Your dancing created the music," you realize. Your fingers skate down the outer edge of a wing.

"Every motion. Every dance. And here - it's quiet or cacophony."

"The charms in your hair."

"So I hear music when I move. Yes."

"And your dancing."

"In the club, the music is loud enough that I can forget it isn't the same. I can trick myself for a little while."

"I saw you stumble - the first night I saw you. When the music stopped."

"It took a second to adjust, yeah."

You trace the notes across his back. "What is it? What's the tune?"

"Heh. It - it's my name."

You step to the side to you can look at him. "All of that?"

"Every name is a song."

You study it again. "But two wings, slanting in different directions, and different notes. How - how do you sing this? How do you know where to start?"

His voice is softer than it's ever been. "It's a duet."


"Every name is a song; every name-song is a duet." He is not meeting your eyes. "No one really knows everything about themself, you know. No one can see everything. There are parts of you that can only be seen in reflection. There are parts of you someone must sing to you."

"Were you pair-bonded there? Is that how?"


"What happened?"

"He died." Aaron's fists are tight on the chair in front of him. You don't know what to do. You have no idea what to do. You want to hold him, wrap your arms around him from behind, but you don't think he wants that, not now. You want to ask how his friend, his partner, his brother, whoever - how he died, if that's what Aaron can't remember - but you don't want to push, don't want to hurt him.

You don't know what to do.

So you sing.

You find the highest point of his right wing; you find the note, you sing. you trace the notes down his back, and elegant sweep of them, as you wordlessly sing him half of his name. He gasps almost inaudibly as he hears, as he realizes what you are singing, and he joins in, his voice deepening the song and filling it out; his name, his song, envelopes the two of you as you sing together, your hands on his back, his head lowered, tears shimmering unshed in his eyes. You sing his name with him, a name he has not heard for half his life.

"The Secret Chord" pendant by [info]wytchchyld - copper enameled with gold -- the color may chip but can be touched up with nail polish, glass marble bead. Also, shiny and the bead will move a bit if you want it to, but it won't go far without bending the wire.

Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

--Leonard Cohen, "Hallelujah", which I am assuming this pendant was named for, and if not, oh well.

Click here to bid on auction items!
Click here to sponsor me - and e-mail me your receipt so I know how much I'm raising!
Current total: $600.


Team Venture shoutout to [info]jennaria, blogathonning down the block!

stormyheart: (waterfall)
[ profile] shadesong is completing blogathon this morning. This post and her next post from yesterday morning were so beautiful I had to share.

Originally posted by [ profile] shadesong at Blogathon: Cicatrix
You've seen the ink at his waist when his shirt's been pulled aside, when he's dancing, but you did not know what it was until he took his shirt off. After he took his shirt off. Later, when he stretched, leaned , and you caught a flash of it and stopped hi with a tentative touch of his wrist - "Can I see?"

He looks slightly uncertain. More like you that like himself. But he turns, he sweeps his hair over his shoulder; he exposes his back to you.

The wings sweep all the way down his back, shoulder to waist. Thick black swoops of ink on his fair skin, and you gasp, reach to touch - and the lines resolve further. They are not solid lines.

They are music.

You touch, gently, softly; you trace the notation, and he sighs, relaxes a bit into you. "Beautiful," you say.

"Thank you."


He looks back; some of his hair slips back down over the tattoo and you fight the urge to push it away. "Why the wings? Or why the music?"


He faces forward again, away from you. Half-nude and exposed, but you cannot see his face. "It reminds me of home."

"Your elsewhere?"


"They did this there? The tattoo?"

He laughs quietly. "No. But I had wings."

You still, and he looks back at you again. He takes your hand and places it on his shoulderblade, where the ink is thickest, an inch of pure black; he puts your hand there and you feel it, the twisted scar running diagonal that the ink covers. You would never see it. But he wants you to feel it. You touch his other shoulderblade; the same scar, slanting in. "What...?" Your voice is shaking.

"I had wings." Still quiet. He holds your gaze, and you realize that he is waiting for you to laugh, to scoff, to disbelieve. You won't.

"They took them?"

"I don't remember. Things - things got very bad, and I don't remember much for a while. When I came back, they were gone. When I came back, I had the scars."

[to be continued.]

Pressed Faerie Wing by Sihaya Designs! [info]sihaya09 of Sihaya Designs is so pleased to present to you with this hand-forged faerie wing! She has formed and hammered this delicate wing from sterling silver wires, then filled it with Swarovski crystal rhinestones and a layer of iridescent aquamarine blue resin. This resin is non-toxic, non water-soluble, and will not yellow with time. It hangs upon a 18" sterling silver chain. A hidden message for you adorns the clasp-- may we all find healing so we have freedom to fly.

Click here to bid on auction items!
Click here to sponsor me - and e-mail me your receipt so I know how much I'm raising!
Current total: $560.

I confess that this one is not inspired by the piece, but instead I am just happy to have the piece to tie it into. [info]greylistening can attest that Aaron has always had wings.

I just hope any of this is making sense to anyone!

Team Venture shoutout to Adrianne Brennan, also blogging for BARCC!

stormyheart: (will of the goddess)
I believe that beautiful things will happen this summer.
I believe that people will surrender to the power and joy of love in all its forms.
I believe that peace will reign.

This I have forseen. This I believe. This I will.

FUCK the astrology.
stormyheart: (silly)
Read more... )
stormyheart: (Default)

Please work in a timely manner so I can do my job.

No love,
stormyheart: (Default)
What would the U.S. be like if the Soviet Union/Russia had gotten to the Moon first?

(This entry brought to you by the special features on Disc 2 of Sci-Fi's Dune mini-series)
stormyheart: (Default)
Do you have an octopus stuck to your head? Jake Gyllenhaal has the solution:

stormyheart: (Default)
Every time I hear Lady Gaga speak like this, or like she did last summer at the National Equality March, I gain even more respect for her.


stormyheart: (Default)

September 2013

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