Satin Scorpion :: Shusu's Blog

Thursday, January 23, 2003

4:19 PM
Ophelia's up and talking about a foster brother named Jim Stephenson. Ginny's married name is Trellier. Ophie says she has mostly guy friends, till Hogwarts, where going out with a boy is tantamount to an engagement. "What, shall I find a Gryffindor boy to go out with?" Ravenclaw boys are better, but they don't know how to have fun.

Miss Touma. Called him and he didn't stick.

astrology, because I feel like it.
(I know there's another entry like this, but I don't feel like looking it up. That, and I feel silly.)

I was born in the Hour of the Dragon, in the darkest yang Water. It was a Red Rat day, and also yang; fire is my element. The month of the Hound, yang Wood, where I roamed. Thus I came forth from a year of yin Soil and gentle Ewe, feet kicking out first as though to find ground before I could walk.

I often wondered how I could be a Sheep. The first article I read of it had lain beside the polished conch shell on the tree-trunk table. Artist, and tender, sweet and unhurt; I forgot that table whenever the words came back to me on paper placemats or borrowed books.

I did not know then that it was Metal I sought. Here was the lack I had known, the sharpness in my mouth I could never ignore. Here were my warring selves, the impatient fire which weakened my strength, the knife I could not grasp without being burned, the autumn long forgotten in the blaze of summer.

It should have been clear to me from the day I fell out of the guava tree and met the earth with my first rush of true fear. I had not broken any bones; not then or ever. When I was safely in bed, I asked my mother about the bones of the earth, and learned of mantles and magma and the constance of the ground. I have too much Earth in my reading. It is more than double the nearest element, and I know, instinctively, that it is fed by roiling, endless flames.

* * *

I am a Scorpio.

It is obvious, it is myself, it is no use denying it. The planets lined up in the year of my birth, strung like beads from the Eighth House to the Twelfth. All nine were above the horizon, invisible only because the Sun was among them. Only the Full Moon was setting. I wonder if the others pulled the moon, or the moon pulls them, like puppets, as it sat in the Fifth House -- opposing Uranus, the star of change.

But first Scorpio. The sign of Secrets. Openly ruled by Pluto, quietly caught by Mars. Cycles, death, rebirth, the dangerous shadows of transformation. There are two types, the Eagle and the Serpent; only the high road or the low road. I am a Serpent. I shed skin and survive. I am too much of the earth, even here. Scorpios are famed for stinging themselves... when they are not doing so to others.

What most forget is that Scorpio is fixed, and a Water sign. Like the dark waters of my hour of birth, it is a mirror-lake of great depths. It cannot be moved simply because the shadow cannot be escaped. The sign of power. The sign of sex. Most people are afraid of mysteries; true Scorpios embrace them. Like desire, like death, like the dark red of our blood, it cannot be escaped or explained-- only mastered.

I will tell you a secret, which is not a secret. I chose my sign. It did not choose me.

My ascendant? Sagittarius. The arrow, the metal, the need for intellectual pursuit and the demand of excellence. Here is the fire, the restlessness of my birth day. It is the edge of my blade. The unseen trajectory of my life. Sagittarius, with not one but three planets under its influence, Neptune of mysteries, and Mercury of thought chasing Venus as it straddles the line with Scorpio. This is the Twelfth House, and Neptune is doubly strong here-- it is the House of secrets and shelter, governed by compassion and sensitivity. These stars were to the North, (Venus almost directly due) and I felt them the longest.

The Eleventh House, of ideals: Scorpio. Against the Moon lie the Sun and Uranus. My love of science is also my highest hope. These are stars of revolution, of action, of self. These I learned second, and they strengthened Scorpio.

And yet... Pluto in the Tenth House, under Libra. My Scorpion's planet. My father's sign. All in the House of vocation.

Another mystery? Peaceful Virgo over the House of the Seeker. Within are wide-reaching Jupiter and limiting Saturn (nearly due East). Dualities within dualities.

Lastly, Mars in the Eighth House, under Leo. Nearly in the Ninth House, and even that is bluntly yang, male and powerful, in tune with my Sun sign. This is the Dark King, the leader who does what one must.

But the Moon... there is the conflict, and the answer. A Taurus moon, proud, unyielding, seeking the security of the Ewe and with the tidal magnetism of the Scorpion. A Full Moon, as well: inner vision, and inner war. I will always be divided along the the fault-lines of my emotions. The chart is full of hostile squares and harmonious trines. Counting the node and ascendant lines: seven trines and sextiles; three conjunctions; seven squares; one opposition. Alchemy at every turn.

* * *

Earth and Fire are carried out in the Western chart as well; most of them are Mutable signs. Only four stars are under Fixed signs: the Sun, the Moon, Mars, and Uranus. The same tug-of-war. Perhaps I am still there, holding my mother's hand as she dreams on the floor.

I have lived in nine rooms thus far; only two of them have not pointed East. That is my Pa Kua, the number 3, Chen. It is also yang, the white Tiger of the East. Thus the cycle completes itself. Thus fortune lies within me and against me. My every step is summer fire, my every desire a dying blade, yet within the Moon touches the Earth-- and it shall be thunder in the springtime. Let my will be the strength of wood; for my paper overflows with words.



~~~

[well, that was fun. I'd like to do a character sheet this way.]

Wednesday, January 22, 2003

10:05 AM
Heh. No, never ever going to change the name of my site.

You are red. You are impure, but noble. You are precious and true to yourself and others. When you love, you love entirely, and will do anything to make your love happy. You are sure of your identity, therefore, you cannot change others or be changed. You are a true prince, you may be forgotten, but without you, none of us could go on.

What inner color are you?

Monday, January 20, 2003

1:07 AM
*sigh* Seeing ai zai half-finished makes me unspeakably sad. I think most of it was lost in the laptop meltdown, including a lot of the quotes. And definitely all of the pictures.

Poor Jianliang.

12:38 AM
fever dreams make the best smut. just ask Kujuurou and Touma. unfortunately they don't last long, and it takes twice as much time to write them, simply *because* it doesn't last that long and I have to keep backtracking.

And damn it, I can already see Ron blocking me on the kinky ferret Draco thing. Argh. Stupid choreography. And I hope I remember the sequence for the bondage bit at the end, because I have a feeling I didn't write that down.

Well, at least I have the title for it. It's less dumb than The Eighth Day of Yuletide (I mean really, that's lame.) Out Like a Ferret.

Wait, that's lame too. Ah well. The other disadvantage of fever dreams. It's like drug-induced hallucinations-- always sounds better the first time.

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