"Stand as My Equal..."

[psalm_onethirtyone]

I have done all of nothing but write to-day, so I have nothing at all to say. ^_^

Only school starts Thursday, and I will need to go to bed at one o'clock at latest. So to people I speak with on AIM, can you, as a terribly big favour, if I'm on later than twelve-thirty, gently remind me that it's my bedtime? That's all, no other obligations, no purchase necessary, Soujin comes with a ten year warranty, &c.

Also, would love to write more photofiction, if anyone cares to ask. Otherwise, I shall have to stop procrastinating and actually finish Fish and Zara's birthdayfics. And write Snowy Grewgious/Rosa's Mum. So please, please ask for photofics. ^_____~

Comments

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

Yes'm. Will do, ma'am. *pouncetackle* Art thou excited for school?

N/A... .... .... ....ferris wheel. Yes, that's one word.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Exceptionally excited. We're taking astronomy and geography this year, and I finally get my French class. ^_________^

When they return from the ocean floor for the eighth or seventh time, Aronnax is breathless and overjoyed, like a boy on a ferris wheel for the first time, spilled into the sky, spun down to earth again. What things they saw! What things! He turns to the Captain to thank him, and sees those dark eyes regarding him evenly. Before he can be struck by the sobriety, before the solemnity of a man whose eyes are like the sea can calm him, he kisses the Captain's cheek, and embraces him with joy.

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

Oooh, yay! That does sound fun. I like school! I got to play with paint today, before that my professor assigned us famous German personas and I spent quite a while being addressed as 'Herr Bach.'

Cheater. :P But eeeeee! Teh cute!

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

^___^ Oh, yay! That is indeed brilliant, and I am glowish with eeee for you. ^__^

...How did I cheat, again, Miss two-words-equals-one?

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

*bounces* ^____^ We can be glowish with eeeee together!

...Shush.

Hamlet/Horatio. Caribbean.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

^_______^ Yay! We shall!

...Yessssss?

O_O

Horatio's chocolate eyes, warm and consoling, were flecking with green as deep and limpid as tropical islands in the Caribbean. Hamlet's own were black orbs, darker than a well of despair on a moonless night in Iceland during the winter. When their eyes met, something sparked between them, and thus, gentle reader, a valuable tourist industry came to nothing, for the only thing less unpleasant than a tropical island in a well of despair is a tropical island in a well of despair on fire.

Now give me keywords I can use, plzthnx.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

XD XD XD that wins. exquisitely.

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

...you seemed to use those keywords just fine, kthx. I want a tropical island in a well of despair on fire. But you could have guessed that.

Rosencrantz/Guildenstern. Camel. Caramel.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

*discreetly slips photofiction request under the door* rosencrantz/horatio. the word is sunshine.
XD XD ... i'm awful.

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

You wicked, wicked girls. XD XD

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

XP i can't help it! i have a wicked puppet, and -- yes, yes, you're right.

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

Ros is hardly wicked. XDD

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

oh, that's what you think. he's unwittingly wicked, let's say. he has good intentions enough to pave a very nice road to hell.

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

...well. I suppose so. I just hope he lives through this. XD

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

so do i. XD XD but hey! he's died enough times all ready, i'm sure he'll be fine. i'd also like to mention that the dramatic irony in horatio's challenge-post kills me.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

*dies* Wicked!

Sometimes he thinks Rosencrantz is just as mad as his Prince--but the difference between them is like a kitten to a tiger. His Prince's madness is despair and anguish, frantic kisses and whispered half-words, endless tragedy. Rosencrantz, instead, offers flowers the colour of sunshine and an exchange of words that in the midst of its cleverness is ridiculous, and in its foolishness wise. Rosencrantz smiles and pats his shoulder and wants to love him like a child--and Horatio accidentally begins to love Rosencrantz more.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

*melts*

oh -- ! i love this, but you must get tired of the word love. i passionately adore and admire this, how's that? it's so sweet it's a little sad.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Love is good, I love love, but passionately adore and admire I certainly won't refuse. Oh, good.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

then it's a good thing i passionately admire and adore you, too -- !

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

*beams and rather melts for and eagerly, tenderly cherishes you*

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

*oh, is cherished*
*melts again and for-ever*

[julietveiled.livejournal.com]

Wait, I thought you homeschooled...


Request! I request Grewgious/Rina, keyword: snap.
Also Zara/Combeferre, keyword: mistake.
And last but not least, and only last for now anyway, Eddy/Hamlet, keyword: broad.

I have no idea how you're going to pull off that last one, to be honest.


On the other hand, do finish the birthdayfics, too, and oh, especially write Snowy's, because I've finally got myself back to Drood.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

I do. Hmph.

"My dear," Mr. Grewgious begins, and suddenly it is as though something in the poor girl snaps, she begins to cry, she lowers her beautiful golden head and weeps. He kneels, with a little difficulty, and takes her hand. "It's all right, my dear. You won't need to live with your father any longer." She is still too frightened of tall men to run from him, but he feels her hand tremble in his, and what he feels after that is anger, and a pain in his somewhat phlegmatic heart.

~

Combeferre pauses by the shop window, looking in at a display of dresses, fine linen and pretty lace that's made of a fine cotton cut into patterns. It's good work on hard times. He has apparently hesitated too long, because a woman comes out of the shop, glaring at him, her eyes sharp in her pinched face. "What're you looking at? Got a ladylove to buy something for? You're printing the glass."
"No, no love," Combeferre answers, smiling.
"Good," she says, and then stiffens, as though the word was a mistake.

~

"Oh, I say!" Eddy has a broad smile, a friendly look in his eyes. "Hullo, there! You played that mad chap in the play to-night, didn't you? Rosa did like you terribly, and I did, too, though I fear I'm a bit slow with plays and things. I didn't half understand what you were saying, I'm afraid, but it was splendid anyhow."
Hamlet stares. "...Splendid, thou sayest?"
"Yes! Lord, yes, quite the thing. You were rather marvellous."
Another glowing smile. It's too much. The boy is as mad as he pretends to be, but Hamlet can't--protests to himself that he canst not--help kissing him. Truly. The boy's a very good-looking madman.

~

:D

Thank you, I shall not. Also, I expect a sock out of this.

[snowyofthenight.livejournal.com]

AHHHH GREWGIOUS/ROSA'S MUM. XDD I think her name must have had some sort of flower/'rose' in it, because why else would she have had a wedding ring with a rose on it? ...yes, I'm babbling.

ANYWAY, SQUEE.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Her name was Rosa, too--but truly she was Rosa, first. Her husband thought it too beautiful a name, thought it should go on and on, named their daughter after her mother. The daughter looks like the mother (Mr. Grewgious peers at her in the firelight as she watches him, too, a little shy, a little too childish and self-righteous to be shy). The daughter, when she grows a little, will smile like her mother. It already hints at her mouth when she is pleased; he's seen it.
Mr. Grewgious peers at her in the firelight, and for a moment the flicker makes her look just like Rosa, because the parts in shadow are the daughter, the parts lit up are her mother. He agrees to help her without hesitation.

That, my dear, is called I-haven't-read-the-book-in-ages-and-I'm-trying-to-write-about-a-scene-I-don't remember, but there you are.