Sirens, you guys.
So, I needed to explain how Sirens work in the universe Shay and I created and i wanted to write something about one of the characters’ parents, so this is what happened. What you basically have here is 4,500 or so words about how her parents met and about how Sirens and other Oceankin work. Don’t question the Oceankin thing.
Also, it gets a little, shall we say, ‘rape-y’. It’s not something I condone, of course, but if it’s not something your peepers want to see, look away. It’s not graphic, but I don’t want to offend.
For a while, I was determined to write drabbles based on my word-a-day calendar. I think I wrote all of one and started this one here. I’m probably never going to finish it, but I figured I’d show you guys.
“Mycroft was always more the bon vivant of the family,” Sherlock said without moving his gaze from the microscope. John snorted a laugh as he poured a splash of milk into his tea. That gave his flat mate pause. He looked up from his work and graced John with one of his signature I’m-actually-confused-here looks. “What, do tell, is funny?”
John put the milk away in the fridge next to the old jam jar now labeled “Extremely toxic! DO NOT TOUCH!”. He turned to face Sherlock and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You,” he replied with a smirk.
Sherlock pushed his chair away from the table and brushed his hands down the front of his well-tailored suit before folding them together on his lap. He stared frankly at John. “I’ll admit it; that’s a new one. In what way am I funny?”
John shook his head. “Nope, not me. I’m not going there.” He made his way toward the living room where the television was still on commercial break.
“John!” Sherlock hopped out of his chair and followed him. “You brought it up,” he accused. Sherlock placed a hand on John’s shoulder and spun him around, nearly spilling tea everywhere and soliciting a protest from the shorter man. “What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing,” he said, returning the detective’s stare, “You just exemplify ‘bon vivant’ to me.” He shrugged and continued to his chair. One of his and Mrs. Hudson’s favorite programs was on and unless he wanted to be dreadfully lost when they met tomorrow afternoon for tea…
But Sherlock wasn’t about to let him go so easily. He snatched the remote from the end table and switched the power off. John started to protest, but was cut off. “How in the world could you consider me that refined?”
Clearly defeated, John waved a hand at his friend. “To begin with, the use of the term ‘bon vivant’. You’re lucky I know a little French.”
Waaaah! It’s like I’m back in high school. This is the kind of thing I used to write then. That’s kind of scary.
This here is a donut I crocheted! I’ve got the pattern around here somewhere if anyone wants it.
It’s meant to be a pincushion so that the pins look like sprinkles, but I don’t have any straight pins for anything, so my friend, Shae, took it home. Fitting since she sews and it was love at first bite sight. ^_^
Hey, you guys. Watch John pop his collar.
If you’re gonna ask me, this is one of the first times John goes out to do his own detective work all by himself and he was doing a decent job. But then the brother shows up and he’s thrown off balance.
What would Sherlock do?
Pop the collar and play it cooooooool…
That awesome moment when a thing you did turns back up on your dash and you reblog it to your main blog because you feel accomplished.
(via forevvy)
I have no friends
…with whom to watch Sherlock and squee and giggle and write fanfiction with.
It’s a sad sort of life when one must contain her emotions for fictional gay couples because discussing their love with one’s boyfriend would be kinda weird.
So where do I go to meet like-minded girls? Internet? Internet. It has to be the internet.
People Who Call Me:
Look, I understand that tomorrow is a national holiday and all that jazz, but you really should have handled your business before it was this urgent. It’s a holiday at YOUR company and it’s a holiday at THIS company. YOU’RE short-staffed, WE’RE short-staffed.
What you need to remember is to not be such angry bitches because people are at home with their families. Especially not to me because it’s not my fault something was labeled incorrectly and wound up in the wrong location. It’s not my fault there’s no one in the warehouse to answer your calls. It’s not my fault that the girl who covers my lunch breaks doesn’t care that your concern is urgent.
See, I DO care that your call is urgent. (Even though I consider it mightily irresponsible for you to have let something this important go unchecked until right before the holidays.) I want you to get the help you need. I aspire to make this phone call, if not pleasant, then at least tolerable.
Simmer down, have some chocolate, and RELAX.
-Tori
Cave Canem
So I decided I’m just going to out and out beg for reviews. I don’t know if this story is worth writing more of, but I’m insanely proud of the first part and this is the first time I’m letting it out into the world.
Cave Canem
Okay, so this is a story I actually began writing in a notebook while I was traveling in Ireland a few years ago. I have no idea why Remus was in my brain, but I couldn’t let go of the story after I got back home. It pretty much sat around, waiting to be written and now…here’s the beginning.
A summary:
Remus Lupin’s story has never been examined, which makes it prime fodder for fanfiction. A man of high morals with a monthly torment, there is so much left up to interpretation in his history and background that it’s hard not to wonder what JK Rowling put him through between his years at Hogwarts and when he came back to teach for one, fateful year. The Wizarding World was in a time of turmoil and was suffering at the hands of a Dark Lord. But other threats were on the horizon: a threat of beasts.
Cave Canem follows the story of a young werewolf, barely able to control his affliction, tasked to infiltrate a pack of malicious beasts, proud of who and what they are, in an attempt to halt their steady gnawing at the edges of society. In the midst of a larger fight amongst the wizards in England, being sent to Ireland seems like an exile to Remus. It’s almost as if he’s not needed by those who he’s grown up fighting next to.
Getting to knooooow yooooou!
What lies at the core of Tori?
How does she operate?
What makes her TICK?
^^Go, learn. It starts with a CLICK.
Crafting My Ideal Day
My ideal day would start the night before. I would go to bed fairly early to be well rested for all the perfection that was coming my way!
On my ideal day, I would wake up early (sometime between five and seven in the morning), have a cup of coffee and a nice muffin or something in the kitchen, clean up and go hang out with the TV. I’d put on a marathon of Doctor Who or Stargate or a few of my favorite films and I’d crochet for most of the duration. Maybe I’d have a cup of peach tea and sweeten it with honey. (God, that’s such a good drink. Like, it’s fruity and earthy and sweet but not TOO sweet…)
Around lunchtime, I’d make myself a sandwich or some chicken and rice, and pour myself a TALL glass of iced tea. I might surf Tumblr for a little bit after that, just to catch up on some of the awesome blogs I follow. If I was close to finishing a crochet project, I’d finish it and spend some time marveling at the thing I just created. Pictures would be taken and posted to Tumblr.
Before it started getting dark, I’d go for a drive to the park to walk around in the woods a little bit. I might have my iPod on me to listen to The Mountain Goats, but I might just listen to the soundtrack that the park and the road provide. After my walk, I’d head home and start making dinner.
I’d invite a few friends over for dinner and while it was in the oven, we could play a little Magic: The Gathering or maybe Super Mario Brothers Wii. (At which point, I’d just be watching! I’m terrible at it.) I’d sit everyone down at the table for dinner and we’d make each other laugh and generally have a very good time.
After dinner, the dishes would be piled into the dishwasher and perhaps we’d have a nice game of Apples to Apples. I’d make some Nutella hot chocolate for dessert and people would filter out the door feeling warmed and happy. When everyone had left for the evening, I would clean whatever up and retire to my bedroom to read an old favorite book until, with my cat curled up next to me, I’d fall alseep.
I’m such a homebody, though.
I’ve been ignoring Tumblr for the most part because, aside from the phone ringing off the HOOK today, I STARted this crochet project. (Good lord, save me from my puns.)
Tomorrow I have to make another one of these puppies and start sewing them together! Huzzah! I’m not a total failure!
This is a doodle I doodled last spring/summer. Sometime on the cusp.
I’m no artist, but open-the-blast-doors’ post reminded me I drew it.
So there’s that.
I was feeling Christmas-y the other night, so I pulled out a coloring book and, after actually coloring a nice Christmas tree, I flipped to this page. I don’t take orders from children’s coloring books!
What possesses me to do these things?
