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this is my space. I speak to myself here. if you cannot handle this, turn back.

Mood ::

Saturday, November 10, 2001

11:49 PM
it's a long strange trip down Greenway

Ack, I want my Lord of the Rings books! I have the 75th Anniversary editions back in another state, and they have the up to date maps. Anyway, I found my Elven name! And lots of other Middle Earth names. This generates your Elven name; click on the left to get the others. I have studied quite a bit of Tolkien's worlds, especially the Elves, but I am a bit rusty, so take care ^_^.

(BTW, this is all too detailed to spoil anything of LotR.)

Species Screen Name RL Name
Elven Dínfanaiel
I like this one. Has a real Elven sound to it, worthy of a High Elf. Enedgristien
Eh. More warrior Elvish. Maybe one of the builders of the hidden cities.
Orc Grúbhósh the One-eyed
Do I have an eyepatch? Coooool! Unfortunately it sounds like one of the White Hand, which I don't like much. Kurhûr the Crippler
Now there's a knee-breaking name. Just mean enough to guard Mordor's gate, and not be eaten by Her.
Hobbit Belladonna Gamgee from Longbottom
Longbottom is in deep South Farthing, a more agricultural region. Less money, more earthiness. Diamond Bracegirdle from Buckland
Ah, east of the Brandywine, a respectable lady of Brandy Hall.
Dwarven Dori Diamondteeth
Sounds like a bone-cruncher. Well, they can't all be Oakenshields. Serin Saphirefist
Now this one I like! A nice color, a good punch, a respectable forge.
In the past, I was... A Frightened Dark-Elf
Dark Elves (I assume it's the Moriquendi) never saw the Light of the Trees... what a cold, lonely existence. Figures. Sorrowful Valar
A Lady of the West, guardian of Arda, no doubt mourning the Sundering of the Elves.

7:29 PM
in that way when he's touched

The leaves had caught fire in the northwest garden. Kujuurou stretched beneath the perpetual dusk of the Youjakai sky. His black yukatta was untied but closed. The trees smelled of Naaza's work. Naotoki. Doku Masho was away in the frontiers, spreading his seed of autumn. His lingering presence was a comfort to Yami Masho. He didn't like Naotoki. Never had, in the hundreds of warped and tangled years of their co-existence, but Naotoki was Masho and his shed skin scent belonged in the Palace garden. Briefly Kujuurou wondered if spring would arrive without Koma to carry the armor. Koma was not Masho anymore. Their brother in more ways than could be counted, but he was outside their dance -- Rajura's harsh dazzle, Naotoki's saturation of pain, his own numbing bite.

Spring would come without Koma Toshitada, as surely as the plum blossom hints in the back of his mind. As much as Kujuurou looked forward to the coming winter, he also looked to its recession.

Another figure emerged from the tree-shadow. A matching black silk yukatta was short enough to allow Kujuurou to admire the smooth, muscled thighs. Touma didn't look right in black, in Kujuurou's opinion. It made his skin look paler and sharpened his dark blue eyes. Touma was a good warrior, but he was not Masho. He was more samurai than any of them despite his birth into modern Japan. Black was for ninja, for interlopers and skulkers like himself.

The younger man crawled his way up to his lover's chest. Touma was tall and lithe where Kujuurou was stocky and muscled. Though they were of a height, the boy always seemed more fragile. Half-asleep, Kujuurou watched his lips touch his collarbone, shadow to shadow. Touma was pledged to the sky. No prisoner of time, like the Masho. Hold sacred your brothers, Kujuurou's yoroi told him, but inwardly he knew that brotherhood could pass away. Not so wisdom. Not so Touma. It was as much a comfort as the falling leaves.

Kujuurou reached for a handful of blue hair -- so soft -- and pulled Touma to his mouth. The boy always brought a sting to his kiss. This time there was hunger. Kujuurou stirred restlessly.

A bow-calloused hand slipped between the folds of his yukatta and closed over his member. Kujuurou squeezed Touma's arm hard enough to bruise, watching the boy's face. Touma knew how to touch. His blue-green eyes focused on swollen lips, contemplating them wrapped around his cock, eyes luminous through unruly hair. Samurai. Touma's ancestors had been daimyo, ruthless and superior. Kujuurou's eyelids fluttered at the thought of one of them seeing his most worthy scion facedown between his legs.

Touma must have seen it flash across his face. A sky blue gaze met his, the stroke growing painfully pleasurable. Kujuurou palmed his cheek. "Are you afraid of us?"

Touma's teeth were white and sharp in the gloom.

"You almost killed my best friend."

Kujuurou's lips parted. Touma spat on his hand and it disappeared into the folds of his yukatta. In the next moment his cockhead pressed on Kujuurou's opening. Touma bowed over him, obscuring the sky, his flesh cleaving him, his scent cutting through the air. It grew easier as he moved. His cock filled him and stabbed him and these legs pushing against him had run and sprung away from spiked chains, thick webs, hot venom, shattered stars... and black lightning. These hands pressing on his forearms had pulled comrades -- no, friends -- away from those same blasts. This boy had fought a war.

The air shifted between them, cold and comforting, the silk folds trailing on Kujuurou's heaving chest. Keen blue eyes were always open when Kujuurou looked. Touma was precise even in this, pushing the pain just below Kujuurou's threshold and then backing off. For a moment the Masho remembered his first forays into the arrow-thick air of battle, how the missiles found ways around the armor and pinned arms and legs to the ground, thumping through eyes and skull and ribs. And then Touma surged forward, pushing him against the hard bench. Sharp teeth dug into his shoulder. Kujuurou was lost. If he was moaning aloud, he would never know.

Touma inhaled sharply. Kujuurou could not look away now, watching the eyebrows draw together and feeling the hot rush within him. The autumn breeze chilled the sweat on his exposed skin. Touma's yukatta was still tied. He stayed inside as his member softened, gaze unwavering on Kujuurou's face.

Eventually he withdrew, and gathered Kujuurou up in an embrace.

"Mine," Touma breathed.

Touma sat him up. His strong fingers dug into Kujuurou's muscles, sliding through the sweat. His cock was moist beneath the silk. Slowly the massage eased the tension from mind and breath, even as Kujuurou's erection throbbed painfully. It felt like the most decadent cream. It felt like the sky pressing on his heart. It felt like revenge.

~~~

The title's from October 8 RPG.

11:31 AM
pets

So I missed the first Digimon. I could have gotten up at six thirty, but I rose before eight thirty when the episode ended. I'm so sorry I missed Taomon's digivolution. Renamon rocks out! I like her painting in the sky as her ultimate attack. Setzer pointed out that Rika freaked out during her photoshoot -- when the photographer said she'd look just like her mom. So maybe... the model isn't her real mom! This adds on nicely to our General Theory of Digimon. I have to see the episode, but there's more stuff on Riley too, and it may bolster the whole Yolei connection.

Wiggle wrote an awesome RP-inspired story! Check it out! It's wonderiferous. A lovely hit of angst and lexicography.

My best friend and I were talking about pets. She's very tactile and loves attention-giving animals. She's far nicer to her pets. I've determined that I like pets with their own lives. That's why I like Maple, even though she won't let anyone pick her up now. And I just don't gel with mammals, except smaller, smart dogs. But not tiny ratlike dogs. Snakes are great single-person pets. A cat maybe if I have a real job and a real apartment. But no dogs unless they have lots and lots of space and a big household to take care of them. I'd feel weird cooping up a dog. Snakes, now, the small ones are cheap and cute and I love their widdle squiggly wooglies.

Naotoki: I don't know her.

Thursday, November 08, 2001

5:31 PM
looked up
and the trees make shadow capillaries in the west
and a window in my new room faces east
and a mango tree dappled the sunrise when I was a child
and the sky begins again
and it heartbeats darkness in one hand
and bleeds light on the other
thank you
thank you

4:54 PM
a room of one's own

Well, it's not much, but it's mine! I spent most of yesterday just putting my junk away. Apparently it takes me less than twenty four hours to get packed and moved, though that wasn't counting my books and tapes. And poor Maple. My future as her owner is in serious jeopardy at the moment. But I'll get to that when I get to that.

Right now I've got a bloomin' headache which is preventing me from ficcing properly. I've got a lovely bunny involving Kujuurou and Touma... a challenge that's been eating away at my mind since Kujuurou gave up on the Alpha Wolf role. It's roughly outlined, and if I can just get quiet enough to capture the raw intensity of the moment, I'll be able to nail it in one sitting. Which brings me to this brainstorm...

Sexy Body Parts
Yohji: his hands (I realized this while writing Aya/Omi vignette, in which he sculpts the air)
Omi: right where the hip turns into the butt (the knees if I'm in a shota mood)
Seiji: trying to be creative, but it's got to be the eyes (watch the show, you'll see why)
Touma: his mind, of course. (another way of saying I like the whole damn package)
Shin: his tongue (and if you've read the fic, you know why)
Kujuurou: his thighs (because you know they've got more definition than a dictionary)
Koma: calves, towards the ankles (especially in the monk's wrappings)
Naotoki: that interesting dot in the center of his forehead (trust me, it's hot)
Duo: teeth (no, *not* the braid; the teeth are part of the grin, the laugh, the snarl, crunching into Deathscythe's screen when it goes down)
Spike: the curve of his eyebrows (thought about the smirk, but that just makes him Spike, not necessarily sexy)
Irvine: that luscious bottom lip (thanks a lot, Wren)
Ken Ichijouji: nice ass (like you didn't notice)
Takeru: cheeks (on the face, you hentais... especially when bleeding)

There's more, of course, but those are my usual crew.
Any other opinions? ^_^

Tuesday, November 06, 2001

10:58 AM
stupid hormones

So I take my drugs like a good little girl and the fuel goes out on Irvine. He starts angsting. I am perplexed, as he is only a visitor bish and I don't know what to feed him. All the hotdogs are gone... anyway! Fortunately from my years of experience in tease-craft, I know exactly what's going to happen to his gangbanged ass and how hot it'll be. So when my hormones kick in again, I will finish bang and fun will be had by all.

Monday, November 05, 2001

1:26 PM
bang

(NC-17. You have been warned. Enjoy.)

He knew what was coming the minute he walked in the door. A dozen pairs of eyes flicked up and gave him the once-over, and then twice, over his unbuttoned vest, boots, soft leather coat, the black fingerless gloves, the black hat, and then a third time, more piercingly, on his half-lidded jasper eyes and his auburn hair. The younger ones vanished to another room, though it was more than likely they'd listen and shyly kiss as they mapped each other's touch.

Irvine had been warned. But he wasn't one to turn down a challenge, not this newly minted SeeD, the best shot in all the Gardens, maybe of all time. He'd worn the same look himself when they turned the cadets loose to find their rooms. Fresh meat. His mouth quirked as he hung his sniper rifle next to the other weapons. A crossbow and a long bow, both professional grade. Several handguns and small arms that might take out a small city. Five swords, one wood, the others of Japanese steel. Wicked looking barbed chains. A weighted whip.

His sharp eyes caught the flare of a lighter, and eyes two shades of brown and a plainly sharper sight than his. A lazy flick, and the lighter was out.

Too late, someone was behind him, taking his fur-lined coat, breath tickling the trickle of sweat on his neck. Inexplicably the man smelled of flowers. Irvine caught a glimpse of dark blond hair, as wavy as his own, before cat green eyes caught his and pounced. Just a kiss. But what a kiss... Irvine's hand settled on the man's bared side as teeth caught his bottom lip. Hazily he realized he was being led to a soft couch. Hazily he realized he was moaning.

His hips pumped into nimble fingers. He shivered another set of fingers eased his vest off, and he opened his eyes to a dream of golden blond and a penetrating lavender eye. This one picked up where the other left off, claiming his lips in precise, effective strokes, finding Irvine's weak spots and exploiting him. Irvine was left breathless, squirming embarassingly on the taller blond's lap, his knees on either side of the black leather pants.

The one above him held his vest open, breath cool and controlled. Another came up to touch what was bared. Irvine had a vision of blue, the deep midnight shade of time's end, or its beginning. The hands were skilled, calloused oddly on the second joint, ghosting over his nipples till he bucked at the sensation. He found himself nose to nose with the first man. The resemblance was startling, even in the dim light, the lazy smirk on the man's face, and knowing there was a shadow of it on his own. The cat eyes shivered and Irvine cried out as he tightened his grip on his manhood.

It occured to him that the blue-haired one was naked now, on all fours and raising his hips to the touch of the lavender-eyed blond. The messy blue hair bobbed as he was penetrated. Irvine groaned, taking in the creamy skin and the toned back arching.

Suddenly rough hands yanked his pants down. Another pull and his cock was twitching in the open air. "The fuck?!" he exclaimed. The dark skinned man only laughed, his cross-shaped scar pale under his bluish-green eyes.

"Exactly," said a woman nearby. She was bursting out of her silk yukatta, falls of indigo hair outlining her bared skin, a clear jewel hanging from her ear, a hand resting on the blue haired boy's shuddering shoulders. Irvine glared at her, but his line of sight was covered by a green-haired man. For the first time his nerve failed him. Dark slits of eyes gazed down at him impassively, yellowish skin over high cheekbones like some sorceress' spawn or a Guardian Force made flesh. The one with the scar bent down before him and Irvine spread, cowed by his partner's stare.

Thick, strong fingers kneaded his member, the man's breath hot on his thighs. Irvine squirmed a little, a whimper escaping into his blond captor's ear. The blond twined their hands together; it was a comfort and a snare. Below the wolf-eyed man thumbed his foreskin, exposing the rosy head. "Goddamn," Irvine said.

The green-haired man suddenly swiped at his crotch, catching a handful of red-gold hairs. "Goddamn!" the sniper roared. Irvine twisted in the blond's firm grip as a menacing grin cracked over the strange countenance above him. His protest melted into a groan-- there was a gentle friction on his cock, and he could feel it trickle hotly.

Just as suddenly, cold metal clamped over the base of his cock. Irvine sucked in his breath. The blond behind him nuzzled his cheek, their hair tangling together. The scarred man was licking him now, coating his cock with warm saliva. Irvine suppressed the urge to bury his face in that soft wavy hair and sob. It was just as well. The blue haired man was back, straddling Irvine's chest. Irvine could only watch, open-mouthed, as the darker man guided slim boy-hips onto his erection.

Such wonderful constricting heat... Irvine pressed against the man holding him, vaguely aware of his kissing the other blond. There was a shifting as the boy planted his feet and Irvine was delirious with the slow suck of his body, the pressure, the passion focused so fully that he couldn't feel the burning stares on him. A nip on his ear and he opened his eyes. The blue hair glittered with sweat as he moved. Darker hands still on his hips, bruising the pale skin. Irvine stared at the long, slender member before him, pink and moist, the pubes virginally smooth. A squeeze and a thrust, and the boy buried himself on Irvine, shaking as white stickyness splattered on Irvine's stomach. Irvine bit his lip, shuddering. Gods, he wanted that. He wanted to fill that beautiful boy till it dripped down his long legs but he was still painfully confined.

The woman was nodding with approval. Irvine was about to say something flippant to her highness when she took off her earring and snapped it onto the cockring. Cold crystal bounced on his aching balls. Irvine growled at her, his face flushing. She just laughed. "How old are you, Irvine?"

Irvine shifted, not liking that they knew his name. "Seventeen."

There was a collective intaken breath.

Stay tuned for more!

8:04 AM
the world's returned to the same place, but the universe has moved on

Touma: *jumps out of a giftbox, naked*
Takeru: *blows a horn*
Hikari: *gives Shu a hug*
~ Pata-chan, you made me a paw painting of Angemon, thank you!
Patamon: *blushes*
Seiji: Would you get out of the giftbox, already?
Touma: *gasping* It didn't have holes in it.
Henry: Ah... I didn't know, I'm sorry, Shusu-san.
~ Don't worry about it, Jenrya. *hugs*
Henry: *sheepish* I should've gotten you something.
Terriermon: But you did, Henry! Mo-mantai! That's what you gave her. *wraps his ears around them*
~ Thanks for even showing up, guys.
Spike: Least we could do.
Renamon: *opens her eyes*
Yohji: Here ya go, Shudawg.
~ Don't think this'll get you out of dealing with your shit--- oh! OH! Dark chocolate truffles!
Yohji: *is glomped*
Omi: *wheels in a bouquet of irises, lily of the valley, hibiscus, fern, chrysanthemum, gardenia, snapdragons*
Yohji: That is a monstrosity, Omittchi.
Omi: But you like it, ah, Shusu-san?
~ I love it. Messy as all hell.
Kujuurou: Come on, Kinneas.
Irvine: But I'm not even hers!
Naotoki: *happily playing with his early gifts from yesterday* She likes you. You're the flavor of the month.
Irvine: Gee, that's good--
Kayura: Move it or lose it, Irvine.
Irvine: Yes, ma'am. Ah... Shu, we all kinda got together to get this present... *gives her a box*
~ *opens it to find a beautiful pewter sculpture, a crystal suspended in the middle of a pewter splash, except there is a tiny woman in the center, her hair blending into the water, her kimono exquisitely detailed*
Yamato: Jyou found it.
Jyou: *blushes*
Iori: Good job, Jyou.
~ Thank you, guys. You've all been so sweet. *kisses Touma on the cheek 'cause he's closest*
Koma: We knew the best present would be for all of us to be around.
Ken I.: *softly* It's what's most precious.
Renamon: *closes her eyes*

12:24 AM
pierrot le fou
teeth filed to points gnashing clown eyes laughing mad at toys pretty toys bouncy whirl bouncy twirl bouncy bullet in the brain i win delirious nightmare number skulls numbered skulls grinning joking about the whole mad billiard ball game we play to welcome you to this carnival the meat fest you are the sacrifice the main course gorged on Tim Burton and French film and carousels playing backwards waltzes children children gather near and destroy gotham dreams of floating raining death

to die, only look
into the face of madness
the eye of the cat

Sunday, November 04, 2001

4:47 PM
booyah

I got a place! I have keys to said place! It is a tiny room, but it's in a house with a backyard with a real kitchen with free laundry and that was the most productive day I've had in a long time. Everything I need in walking distance. The bishies are excited.

11:55 AM
dream: hostage

It was quite suspenseful in a Hitchcockian kind of way. There were the usual bizarre bits, like the mail being towed at the end of the train (no train car, just little wagons with mail on it), which was from Backroads #77. My male dreamself had been held for a while and returned to his home to find his elderly mother gone. There was threatening and guns and just general coolness.

Well, I'm off to try to secure myself a room. Ack, I haven't even started packing! But I feel better that I'm calm than anything else. That's a good thing. The boys are quiet, thank God, so they won't distract me. Now... bus schedule....

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