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Scorpion by Ushikai
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Friday, July 26, 2002

7:54 PM
Digimon - the package deal

*dances!* I can draw! And now... I can color! Yayyyy!



And now for real art. Dreamer's Channel has new art! Ohhhhhh, Lee in a wetsuit. Rrrrrrr.

Last but not least... day old digimon fic. Brought to you by Reika and Mitsuo.
"Those were day old bagels?!"

SPOILERS!!!!

FRAGMENTS/END OF TSURU HIGH TIMELINE!!!!

Various bits... some have been aired before, I think, but I'll include them for context.

Everything copyright 2002 Sameshima Shuzumi.
Except for the Tamers, their 'mon, and concepts.
=========

The black object in his hand was something Henry hadn't seen in years.

Grimly, Janyuu closed his fist over the D-arc. "I found it in your room. I assume it's yours."

Jenrya crossed the room in a heartbeat. He put his hands on the device. "It's not mine."

"But... why did it emerge here? For us to find it?"

Jen forced himself not to look at Ryo. "Maybe my room's a weak spot in reality, since Terriermon bio-emerged from there. Here, you try."

As Ryo took the device, Janyuu frowned at the table. "How do you know it's not yours?"

"I just do. Besides, it's not green."

"Don't think this is mine either." Ryo gave it back to Jen.

"Really?" Jen exchanged looks with his lover. So it wasn't time for him to go. Yet.

"We have to find out who it belongs to."

"Wait a minute! Where are you going? That should be turned in to Hypnos."

Jenrya was pushing Ryo towards the door, the D-arc firmly in his grasp. Ryo almost looked apologetic. Jenrya turned to his father, gesturing to Ryo to keep moving. "Dad. What will they do with it? Take it apart? Trust us."

~~~~~

"I know what this is." Ryo's fingers ran over the engravings on the device.

"You do? I mean, hey of course you do-"

"'Kazu!" Juri squeezed around Takato.

"Well what is it, hotshot?" Ruki said, leaning back.

Ryo closed his eyes. "Give me a second." When he opened them, he began to punch the D-arc's controls, even though there was no power.

"Ah... is it supposed to not do anything?" Takato peered at the lifeless screen.

"Power of belief, Takato," Ryo murmured, deep in concentration... or recollection.

The D-arc sprang to life. "Wooohoo!" "Sugoi, Ryo." "Why is it doing that?"

Ryo turned in the office chair to show them. The compass arrows were spiraling in opposite directions, one slightly faster than a clock's second hand, the other slower. It occurred to Lee that the thing was thoroughly lost.

"This is not a normal D-arc," Ryo said. "I'm not sure what to call it, but I remember what it's used for. It's kind of an invitation."

"To what?" Ruki said.

"To one's destiny."

Lee shot up. "I thought you said it wasn't yours!" The others were startled.

Ryo waved him down. "It's not. I just recognize it. It's a summoning from the Digimon Gods to the one child worthy to take on their greatest adversary."

"Whaaat? Are you saying that Tamer has to go up against Apocalymon or something?" 'Kazu was on the edge of his seat.

"Nope." Ryo twirled the device in his hand, a glum smile on his face. "Whoever gets this isn't a Tamer. Or Digidestined. They'll switch digimon whenever they need to, but they'll never have a real partner."

Lee's eyes were on the eerie rotation of the arrows. "Ryo, wouldn't their enemy be Millenniumon?"

"It was that way for me every time. Who knows, maybe it's something new."

"So... it's not any of us?" said Takato.

Juri shook her head. "We all have designated partners. We can't get another one."

Ryo frowned. "What bothers me is that there's no contact from a digimon, or one of the gods, or even Gennai. They can't be expecting this kid to go in completely blind."

"Maybe they've already met the digimon and they've lost the D-arc," Ruki said.

"Maybe." He flipped through the arrows. "Show me the digimon coordinated with this device's owner."

The familiar round analysis screen popped up. With a cry Ruki was on her feet. "No!"

Dobermon. Champion Vaccine, Beast type. Special attacks: Grau Realm / Schwarz Strahl.

The arrows continued to spin in opposite directions.

~~~~~

"Ryo..."

He turned to Lee, wondering at the growing alarm coming from his love. "What..."

"Your eyes are changing color," Lee said evenly.

Ryo got up and snapped the window shade up. Reflected in against the Shinjuku skyline, he watched his brilliant blue irises smoking into rich brown. "I... I don't know. I think it used to be... like this..."

"What's happening, Ryo."

He turned his unearthly gaze on Lee, jaw working. He didn't know.





9:11 AM
YESSS! (rep. in LJ)

ATTENTION ANIME FANS. This is very very very important. This is a serious vote-with-your-dollars event coming up in two months. This Hayao Miyazaki and Disney and the Mouse is NOT CUTTING A BLESSED THING.

"Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi" will be released as "Spirited Away" on September 20.

It will be a dub, but a 2:20 movie would have to be to draw in kids. It is the best selling movie internationally, it has broken records internationally, and America is finally going to see it. It has won awards, it is beautiful and stunning and heartfelt, and Disney, the greatest scourge to the cultural worth of American animation for nigh on thirty years, is throwing in all its weight behind this masterpiece.

Do you know what this *means*? It means change from the Top. Toonami, while popular, has been grassroots and connected to the existing fanbase. If Disney shows it can be done, if it can prove you can show art and make money from it in this country, it opens the floodgates.

You have 56 days to save up. You also have 56 days to convince the people you know who don't know or like anime that this is worth seeing. Put it on your blog. Pass it to your mailing lists. Go opening day, because Hollywood's bizarre economy functions on opening weekend returns and affects future distribution. Go. Princess Mononoke only grossed $2.6 million in this country; it wasn't enough. Go. This is the another big chance.

Anime may have come in on Mewtwos and mecha, but it will stay for the story. This may be the story.


Movie Poster

Weekend Journal's look at the production

Nausicaa.Net's collection of trailers and promos


270



Thursday, July 25, 2002

8:00 AM
re: SEX

The Internet surfing continues, and here's some extra Xtra adult links.

QueerNet.Org The following is from their "Deviant" section. It's a primer on the widely known hanky code prevalent in the 1970s gay scene. Apparently, left placement of items is top/aggressive.

Black: Paingames, Whipping
Dark Blue: Fucking
Light Blue: Oral Sex
Brown: Shit
Grey: Bondage
Olive or Khaki: Military Scenes
Light Pink: Arse Toys
Dark Pink: Nipple Torture
Red: Fisting
White: Wanking
Yellow: Piss
Purple: Piercings
Mustard: Big Cock
Green: Rent
Lavender: Drag, Cross Dressing
Orange: Anything Anytime (L) or Nothing Now (R)
Beige: Rimming
Charcoal: Rubber
Red and White Stripes: Shaving

Touma: *wants a tie-dye hanky* Okay, red and white stripes, dark blue, light blue, white... hrm, wonder if 'Rou would allow me some red.
Yohji: Downright patriotic.
Touma: Yeah, if you're American.
Seiji: *gives Touma a green handkerchief*
Touma: O.o That's why you always lent me yours!
Seiji: *smugly folds his lavender hanky into interesting shapes*

~~~

I still want John Edwards to guest on Passions. :p

~~~

Well, Digimon yaoi may be on the ropes, but Digimon hentai rolls on. Het and furries and yuri are the order of the day. Disgustingly bad writing. The norm is PWP in its purest, non-canonical form. The only thing worse than a fawning fangirl is a fawning fanboy (there's more 'yeah dude that was coool' than 'waiiiii!' but the principle is the same.) It's impressive in a community sense though; it looks like they have in fact been threatened with legal action and are still chugging.

For a more pink pastel take on the whole thing, ShoujoAi.com not suprisingly has shoujo ai. Everything from the intro to the nicely indexed but clumsy, clumsy fics is a mirror of shonen-ai. You know that perennial yaoi argument of why can't women enjoy two men together if men enjoy two women together? Well... yes. They do. There's a pile of gal authors in the mix whom I've seen around the ghettoes of ff.net and on various dumpster dives. Again, it's not like fanboys don't write yaoi, ne? Might be an interesting field trip to remind oneself what yaoi looks like from the outside.

260





Tuesday, July 23, 2002

8:23 AM
and what I did yesterday

"The library accepts all bouncing poultry."
- Between the Lions, re: the last "Hopping Hens Allowed" sign which was not missing its "No"

The sign was eventually placed just outside ^^. [muffled] "Ba-kaw! *bounce* ba-kaw! *bounce* ba-kaw!"

Today's news:
American Association of Nude Recreationists changed their name to the aforementioned in a meeting in the Appalachians. Reportedly they followed perfect parliamentary procedure.

They had towels on the seats.




Monday, July 22, 2002

7:14 AM
what I did this morning





Sunday, July 21, 2002

11:21 PM
(lovingly recopied from memory after the computer went dead...)

and so the charmed life ends

I should have known. I should have recognized that weight on the base of the ribs, the tickle of the cough which would not go away. Something about the waking fever dream of someone calling me by my nickname, shortened as though in urgency. Trying to tell me something.

I should have known that something virulent enough to spread from the back of my throat to my sinuses in a few hours would trigger it. But then, I haven't had a relapse in years.

I also haven't taken the medicine for it in years.

Asthma is a childhood disease for most people. And I treated it as such. I hadn't had an attack in a long time -- at least none I'd acknowledge. The type of asthma I have doesn't produce wheezing. Sometimes a stethoscope won't pick up the high pitched whine of the bronchii which typifies the condition. It's only my shortness of breath, the panic-pounding of my heart, and the straining beneath my collarbone which signal the attack. It's easy for it to sneak up on me; easy for me to deny until the last minute.

In those years of health, it was easy to forget that my lungs are more scar tissue than most peoples'. My childhood was not kind to me. Neither was I -- despite my weak immunity, I got into everything. Wash your hands. Don't touch your face. No.. It got so that I can still tell by the taste of sickness, the feel of my body, the magnitude of pestilence. Even as a child I defied death. After all, being sick was a luxury in itself, a little pain in exchange of being waited on hand-and-foot.

I was more afraid of my soul being claimed by the devil or the world being burnt to a crisp billions of years from now. I was not afraid of death. I was afraid of things ending.

Asthma was different.

Have you ever suffocated before? Do you know what it is to feel your oxygen slipping away from you with every breath? Can you imagine going through that once or twice a month? Or three or four times a week? I think I never seriously considered suicide at that stage because I knew what dying felt like. I had felt the lightheadedness, the weakness, the work of hanging on to every breath. When I was a child, I liked to run. When I was a teenager, they called the ambulance. While everyone else panicked, I stayed calm and gave directions, gasping for every breath. What was the big deal? I was only dying. I had been to the edge enough times to know I would make it. Yet it truly baffled me. I suppose going to the hospital every day to meet my parents, not to be sick, got me used to it. I knew death was ugly, often messy, and unromantic. And it happened to everybody, sooner or later.

The only time I was ever admitted into a hospital was for my first asthma attack. I had an IV in my wrist. I am still angry at the intern who stuck me. I know I still have fresh veins in my arm. Then again, maybe by then I'd had so many tests that it's anyone's guess if I have discernable veins there.

So, tonight I took my first dose of oral steroids in over five years. The pills will go for three days. I'll probably go on a regular inhaled steroid afterwards. Over time, my face will get puffy, my hair grow thicker all over, and my acne will act up (as though it hasn't already). . I also have albuterol for sudden attacks, and to keep my airways open. I have to watch out for signs that I'm getting tight. Yes, that's the word for it. My dormmates laughed at it. I guess they'd never suffocated before. I have to see a doctor or nurse tomorrow to make sure it won't aggravate into pneumonia. On top of that, I have to go on a massive cleaning campaign. I have to ask my landlord about the vents in the house.

This time there is less resistance to treatment. The minute I looked at the familiar syrupy strand on the tissue, I understood. I'd needed to fear death again. And here it was. It's the final rounding-off of all the growing up I've done in the past two years. I would much rather have asthma than depression. Somehow I don't think the two can coexist in me.

I have far more at stake this time. I have a reachable goal, a place of my own, a woman who loves me. I don't know anyone else to whom God's given a fourth and fifth chance. It would be presumptuous to ask Him how many are left on the card.

(From now on, every time I blog, I'll be listing peak flows. That's my lung capacity in liters/min. 400 and up is ideal. Below is the yellow zone. 200 and below is the red zone. Tonight they will probably be rather low.)

190



4:37 AM
warning : may be disturbing

Ewwww.
That test is in bad taste. Yet here I am putting it up... *sigh*. I guess I've always been fascinated by it. Mouseover for more.


Congratulations, you are a Serial Killer! Others prefer mass killings, or years of blood and hate, but your blood-lust is much more cultivated and refined. A high body count is not your turn on, you like the hunt, the selection of the perfect prey, and the slow torture before the kill. S ometimes, you renew your thirst for life by consuming a portion of your victim. Some people like caviar and classical music, you like human eyes and bloodcurling shrieks of ultimate pain. There is, as they say, no accounting for taste.


Take the High Yield Killing Method Test Now!!

Woowoo! Maleficent! My favorite Disney villainess, even though she was stuck in a crappy movie.

Maleficent


Take the Disney Villain Test Now!! Congratulations, you are the mistress of all evil! Your impressive bearing and terror-inspiring attitude make you one very impressive villain. There aren't many out there who can turn into giant fire-breathing dragons at the drop of a hat. But, while you have a fearsome countenance and regal stature, your extreme vengefulness may cause people to view you as petty. Next time your name gets left of a party list, you may not want to curse the birthday girl with death. It is a bit extreme.

Ooooh. Scar. Mmm. What a delicious voice.

Sneaky, sullen, and downright mean. That description certainly fits you. It's not a very nice person who sends their brother to a horrifyingly painful death. You'll do just about anything to get what you think you deserve. Problem is, if you had the power and respect you crave, you wouldn't be able to handle it. You talk a good game, but lack the skills needed to back it up.

Take the Disney Villain Test Now!!







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