naamah_darling: The Punisher skull with a red ribbon barrette. (Punisher Ribbon)
I seem to be doing a lot of real-life update stuff, and not so much with the insightful stuff. I'm definitely in a holding pattern, life-wise, just keeping shit together as best I can.

Sargon has been helping by keeping me distracted. I've also been relying on my imaginary people really heavily. Or, really, one of them. So, say thank you to The Baron, who has kept me on my meds and made sure I get to sleep eventually. And maybe thanks to Sam, who is keeping me amused in that "I have a new character" sort of way. But mostly the Baron.

The "Bête Noire" Tazendra poster is going well. As you can see I'm doing it as a paper mosaic, with tiny, tiny pieces. Like, at their largest, maybe half the size of my pinky fingernail. It actually goes pretty quickly once I'm sticking stuff down. The slow part is cutting the goddamn paper into tiny pieces.

Here you can see where I stopped tonight, and get a rough idea of where I'm going with it. Also a look at my incredibly messy workspace. (The worst of the mess is out of frame. Sadly, I just missed the beheaded My Little Ponies.)

La Mocus in progress

I think the silhouette looks very much like her, especially about the ears. She had wonderful ears. They weren't hard, stiff ears like cats sometimes get. They were always kitten-soft, and they had a lovely shape.

There will be more pictures. A very early progress shot is here on Flickr. That was from a couple of days ago. At this rate I honestly don't think that it will take me more than another week or two if I keep working on it every day.

It's keeping me busy until I get her back from the cleaners', whereupon I anticipate a day or so of crushing grief followed by extreme relief at having her home again. It won't be the same, obviously, but it will be better than nothing.

The language thing is progressing. I'm aiming for a 2+ to 3 on the ILR Scale which I figure will take about a year, assuming I can stick with it and find sufficient self-study materials. I'm really close to having the absolute minimal level of fluency I would consider necessary for survival. I can ask for help, an ambulance, the police, a mechanic, the American embassy, or a bathroom. I can order food and make simple purchases, understand a plane/bus/train schedule, and buy a ticket. Once I learn how to understand directions (I can ask for them, but I'm not real clear on understanding anything but "left," "right," "straight ahead," and "in front of.") and learn how to negotiate sex, I think I'll be set.

It's an easy language in terms of picking up new vocabulary, since much of it sounds like similar English words. It's so logical in some ways, so much more organized than English. It has its shit together in a way that English just does not. Yet, even on the most basic grammar level it's also complex in a way that English isn't. Every noun has a gender, so any adjective must be altered to agree with the noun's gender and number. Any associated articles such as "a" and "the" and so forth must also be modified by gender and number. It's a lot of things to remember to do. I enjoy working it all out immensely. It's like a logic puzzle.

I still have no practical use for it, and have a tendency to teach myself ridiculous things simply to amuse myself. "Where is the brothel? I have an appointment at seven. With your wife."

In less happy news, I am having really gross nightmares that clearly reflect my body image issues, and those can stop any time they want. I was doing so well for a while there, and now I'm heartsick with it again, and have come very close recently to just giving up and going back to starving myself and pushing myself too hard. I understand that part of that is me grasping for (illusory) control because I have so little control in the rest of my life, and that's probably driving a large part of the urge to backslide. Looking at old pictures of myself where I was so thin makes me want to scream, because those at the time were pictures I had problems showing people because I thought I was too fat to be seen in public. At 140 pounds. It's stupid to say that I hate myself for hating myself, but I really kind of do.

But I've been over all that before, many times, and won't go over it again, since it's not likely to actually help me any.

Instead I will heed an imaginary somebody's scowling and let him herd me off to bed like a murderous border collie.
naamah_darling: The Punisher skull with a red ribbon barrette. (Punisher Ribbon)
I seem to be doing a lot of real-life update stuff, and not so much with the insightful stuff. I'm definitely in a holding pattern, life-wise, just keeping shit together as best I can.

Sargon has been helping by keeping me distracted. I've also been relying on my imaginary people really heavily. Or, really, one of them. So, say thank you to The Baron, who has kept me on my meds and made sure I get to sleep eventually. And maybe thanks to Sam, who is keeping me amused in that "I have a new character" sort of way. But mostly the Baron.

The "Bête Noire" Tazendra poster is going well. As you can see I'm doing it as a paper mosaic, with tiny, tiny pieces. Like, at their largest, maybe half the size of my pinky fingernail. It actually goes pretty quickly once I'm sticking stuff down. The slow part is cutting the goddamn paper into tiny pieces.

Here you can see where I stopped tonight, and get a rough idea of where I'm going with it. Also a look at my incredibly messy workspace. (The worst of the mess is out of frame. Sadly, I just missed the beheaded My Little Ponies.)

La Mocus in progress

I think the silhouette looks very much like her, especially about the ears. She had wonderful ears. They weren't hard, stiff ears like cats sometimes get. They were always kitten-soft, and they had a lovely shape.

There will be more pictures. A very early progress shot is here on Flickr. That was from a couple of days ago. At this rate I honestly don't think that it will take me more than another week or two if I keep working on it every day.

It's keeping me busy until I get her back from the cleaners', whereupon I anticipate a day or so of crushing grief followed by extreme relief at having her home again. It won't be the same, obviously, but it will be better than nothing.

The language thing is progressing. I'm aiming for a 2+ to 3 on the ILR Scale which I figure will take about a year, assuming I can stick with it and find sufficient self-study materials. I'm really close to having the absolute minimal level of fluency I would consider necessary for survival. I can ask for help, an ambulance, the police, a mechanic, the American embassy, or a bathroom. I can order food and make simple purchases, understand a plane/bus/train schedule, and buy a ticket. Once I learn how to understand directions (I can ask for them, but I'm not real clear on understanding anything but "left," "right," "straight ahead," and "in front of.") and learn how to negotiate sex, I think I'll be set.

It's an easy language in terms of picking up new vocabulary, since much of it sounds like similar English words. It's so logical in some ways, so much more organized than English. It has its shit together in a way that English just does not. Yet, even on the most basic grammar level it's also complex in a way that English isn't. Every noun has a gender, so any adjective must be altered to agree with the noun's gender and number. Any associated articles such as "a" and "the" and so forth must also be modified by gender and number. It's a lot of things to remember to do. I enjoy working it all out immensely. It's like a logic puzzle.

I still have no practical use for it, and have a tendency to teach myself ridiculous things simply to amuse myself. "Where is the brothel? I have an appointment at seven. With your wife."

In less happy news, I am having really gross nightmares that clearly reflect my body image issues, and those can stop any time they want. I was doing so well for a while there, and now I'm heartsick with it again, and have come very close recently to just giving up and going back to starving myself and pushing myself too hard. I understand that part of that is me grasping for (illusory) control because I have so little control in the rest of my life, and that's probably driving a large part of the urge to backslide. Looking at old pictures of myself where I was so thin makes me want to scream, because those at the time were pictures I had problems showing people because I thought I was too fat to be seen in public. At 140 pounds. It's stupid to say that I hate myself for hating myself, but I really kind of do.

But I've been over all that before, many times, and won't go over it again, since it's not likely to actually help me any.

Instead I will heed an imaginary somebody's scowling and let him herd me off to bed like a murderous border collie.
naamah_darling: Lucian from Underworld next to a snarling wolf. From the dark into the black, throwbacks always have to go. (Lucian Throwbacks)
Random things:

Just uploaded the cover and text for my first e-book to Smashwords.com and am waiting for it to finish sorting itself out so that I can test it. I am . . . terrified. Terrified that it won't have worked and I will have to format the whole thing over again, terrified that there are typos in it, terrified that I did the wrong thing when I edited the shit out of it. I am also really excited.

All those hateful body image problems are back in full force. It was nice to have a break from them for a while, but I guess it's too much to ask for all this shit to fuck off altogether. "I wish I could get rid of this fucking thing!" is not a healthy way to feel about your meat. It's pretty fucking miserable in here right about now. Thankfully I have really good company.

Gaming with my new character is working out well. Second session tonight. I think he'll make a superb airship pirate captain. I miss the Baron like needing shoes in snow, but it'll pass. Whiiine. Anyway, this new guy is juuust selfish and impulsive and thoughtless enough to do some really entertaining shit, so we're all just sitting back with boxes of popcorn and waiting for him to fuck up dramatically. He's already done it once, much to everyone's amusement except his. Short list of stupid shit to demand when you are aware there are people who want to get rid of you: "HEY! I want to see my sister! Let me into her locked room that I know there is no way into and, conversely, no way out of but this heavily guarded door! Let me in there RIGHT NOW! Wait . . . something's wrong with this idea. I should probably think about thi--NEVER MIND DOOR IS STILL CLOSED MAYBE SEE TO THAT CHOP CHOP!" He's not stupid, but he doesn't always think things through. This should be interesting.

Put in an order at www.rileystreetartsupplies.com, got the wrong thing in the mail, then discovered I had ordered something else by mistake because the picture on both listings was the same. I'd ordered one of the ingredients in a kit, and I had meant to order the whole kit. Not surprising that I was confused, but embarrassing. I emailed them and they answered me the next day saying that they were sending me the thing I had meant to order for free, sorry about the mistake. So, I am not angry with them at all. Their prices are pretty darn good, and apparently their customer service is OK. They've kept me as a customer. Smart. The downside is that my new project still won't be finished for Thing I Made Thursday, so I'll have to find something else. Still, overall a positive experience.

And, last, and possibly most thrilling, I have some sort of hard mass under my ribcage on the left side. I don't know if it's one of those things that has always been there, and I only just noticed it, or if it's new. I don't go feeling around my ribs, you know? I'm having no symptoms, there's absolutely no pain, it doesn't hurt to press on it, and I don't have fucking insurance or money to pay for tests so I'm just going to ignore it and hope it's either supposed to be there, or is harmless.

Because that's what passes for health care in this cockfuck country. Don't get sick. And if you do, try not to need help.
naamah_darling: Lucian from Underworld next to a snarling wolf. From the dark into the black, throwbacks always have to go. (Lucian Throwbacks)
Random things:

Just uploaded the cover and text for my first e-book to Smashwords.com and am waiting for it to finish sorting itself out so that I can test it. I am . . . terrified. Terrified that it won't have worked and I will have to format the whole thing over again, terrified that there are typos in it, terrified that I did the wrong thing when I edited the shit out of it. I am also really excited.

All those hateful body image problems are back in full force. It was nice to have a break from them for a while, but I guess it's too much to ask for all this shit to fuck off altogether. "I wish I could get rid of this fucking thing!" is not a healthy way to feel about your meat. It's pretty fucking miserable in here right about now. Thankfully I have really good company.

Gaming with my new character is working out well. Second session tonight. I think he'll make a superb airship pirate captain. I miss the Baron like needing shoes in snow, but it'll pass. Whiiine. Anyway, this new guy is juuust selfish and impulsive and thoughtless enough to do some really entertaining shit, so we're all just sitting back with boxes of popcorn and waiting for him to fuck up dramatically. He's already done it once, much to everyone's amusement except his. Short list of stupid shit to demand when you are aware there are people who want to get rid of you: "HEY! I want to see my sister! Let me into her locked room that I know there is no way into and, conversely, no way out of but this heavily guarded door! Let me in there RIGHT NOW! Wait . . . something's wrong with this idea. I should probably think about thi--NEVER MIND DOOR IS STILL CLOSED MAYBE SEE TO THAT CHOP CHOP!" He's not stupid, but he doesn't always think things through. This should be interesting.

Put in an order at www.rileystreetartsupplies.com, got the wrong thing in the mail, then discovered I had ordered something else by mistake because the picture on both listings was the same. I'd ordered one of the ingredients in a kit, and I had meant to order the whole kit. Not surprising that I was confused, but embarrassing. I emailed them and they answered me the next day saying that they were sending me the thing I had meant to order for free, sorry about the mistake. So, I am not angry with them at all. Their prices are pretty darn good, and apparently their customer service is OK. They've kept me as a customer. Smart. The downside is that my new project still won't be finished for Thing I Made Thursday, so I'll have to find something else. Still, overall a positive experience.

And, last, and possibly most thrilling, I have some sort of hard mass under my ribcage on the left side. I don't know if it's one of those things that has always been there, and I only just noticed it, or if it's new. I don't go feeling around my ribs, you know? I'm having no symptoms, there's absolutely no pain, it doesn't hurt to press on it, and I don't have fucking insurance or money to pay for tests so I'm just going to ignore it and hope it's either supposed to be there, or is harmless.

Because that's what passes for health care in this cockfuck country. Don't get sick. And if you do, try not to need help.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Warning: Death Ray)
First, I just want to say that dreaming about having raunchy sex with the king of the dark fairies is pretty awesome, especially when he looks like Jason Isaacs. It's even more awesome when he brings his two gorgeous friends. So, that was a really good dream. And then he brought out the hellhound, and I am chagrined to admit that was pretty awesome, too. Then I woke up and felt acutely embarrassed about the whole thing. I mean, really?! Dear lord, WTF?!

Second, I sort of embarrassed myself in front of the UPS guy. I was out front trying to open the garage door with the keypad, and it was giving me a hard time. When it finally started working, I raised my hands, fingers curled like claws, and in my best mad scientist voice said "Riiiise! RIIIISE!!!" Then I turned around, and the UPS guy was standing right there with a package in his hand and an inscrutable look on his face. I thanked him and didn't bother trying to explain. Tiny bit of dignity salvaged.

Third, I have felt like crap off and on all weekend, and was identifiably unwell on Friday, though no cause has thus far presented itself. My sleep schedule is fucked beyond fucked. So, if I'm slow to get shit done or answer stuff, forgive me. And go ahead and nudge me if you have to.

And, because I have roughly ten thousand tabs open, including some that have been open for, like, months, here are some links!

The wonderful Shadow Manor linked to my dead fairy gaff! Always appreciated.

The Victorian bottled sand art of Andrew Clemens. Amazing, amazing, amazing. More pictures are here. With most stuff I see, I can at least sort of understand how it was done. This borders on the incomprehensible.

The art of Kate MacDowell is deeply disturbing, but also incredibly beautiful. She renders incredibly detailed, accurate, and delicate animal, vegetable, and human forms in fine porcelain clay, blending them together in lovely and frightful ways, commenting on our broken relationship to the world around us. There's a subtle horror at work here. It's beautiful stuff, but it gives me the shudders.

This is much less creepy. Laurel Roth's animal skulls rendered in transparent acrylic. Most are highly polished like clear crystal, but some are orange-tinted like amber. I really, really like these. They aren't just straightforward casts of skulls, although that would be awesome, too. She sculpted them and made them perfectly smooth, which gives them a really neat look. Her detail is perfect.

Wine bar treasure trunk. This thing is really cool.

So is this beautiful table made of a single draped sheet of clear acrylic. Looks like a clear, freestanding tablecloth.

Creating fruit juice 'caviar' using a syringe to drop the juice into a calcium chloride bath. I would LOVE to try this. Go and look at the photos, which are absolutely gorgeous.

Quick and dirty instructions on making a prop mandrake root. There's a lot of room for elaboration here. I really like the idea. What I would love to figure out how to do is give the finished root all those tiny little rootlets and hairs. Scrolling down to the Chinese Fleeceflower portion of this Cracked article shows the effect I would love to get. I have no idea how to go about it.

Old, old article about Christina Hendricks trying to find a gown for the Emmy Awards. She's "too big," so she had trouble, which is ludicrous. Anyway, I've had that open as a tab since, like, SEPTEMBER, so I thought I would just link it and say that the custom gown she wound up with is one of the most beautifully-fitted dresses I've ever seen, and looks like a million bucks on her million-dollar body. It is hard to design for really curvaceous figures. This is what it looks like, done correctly.

Also an old article. Last 'sin-eater' celebrated with church service. The restored grave of Richard Munslow, the last known "sin-eater" in England, has been at the centre of a special service in a Shropshire village churchyard. He was buried in 1906. Nothing of especially staggering awesomeness about this link, it's just a quiet little thing that tugs at my hindbrain and makes me want to tell stories. I've had this link open since September, too. No exaggeration. So I thought I'd just link it here so I can close it.

And, last, a call for participants for research on women's experience of porn. If you're female, over 18, live in the US, and you read/watch/listen to/look at porn/erotica, you might take a look and/or spread the link.

Are You a Woman Who Views, Reads, or Listens to Pornography, Erotica, Romance Novels, and/or any other Sexually Explicit Materials?

If so, please share your experiences!

Complete a Short Survey (30 min or less) and Contribute to a Scholarly Understanding of Women’s Experiences with Sexually Explicit Materials

My name is Kari Hempel and I am a female psychology graduate student who is doing my dissertation research on women’s experiences with sexually explicit materials. For too long women’s real experiences with these materials have been ignored. My goal is not to judge anyone’s experiences, but to accumulate surveys from as many women as possible around the country about their positive, negative, and/or mixed experiences with sexually explicit materials, and to present the differences and commonalities in a scholarly, respectful fashion.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Warning: Death Ray)
First, I just want to say that dreaming about having raunchy sex with the king of the dark fairies is pretty awesome, especially when he looks like Jason Isaacs. It's even more awesome when he brings his two gorgeous friends. So, that was a really good dream. And then he brought out the hellhound, and I am chagrined to admit that was pretty awesome, too. Then I woke up and felt acutely embarrassed about the whole thing. I mean, really?! Dear lord, WTF?!

Second, I sort of embarrassed myself in front of the UPS guy. I was out front trying to open the garage door with the keypad, and it was giving me a hard time. When it finally started working, I raised my hands, fingers curled like claws, and in my best mad scientist voice said "Riiiise! RIIIISE!!!" Then I turned around, and the UPS guy was standing right there with a package in his hand and an inscrutable look on his face. I thanked him and didn't bother trying to explain. Tiny bit of dignity salvaged.

Third, I have felt like crap off and on all weekend, and was identifiably unwell on Friday, though no cause has thus far presented itself. My sleep schedule is fucked beyond fucked. So, if I'm slow to get shit done or answer stuff, forgive me. And go ahead and nudge me if you have to.

And, because I have roughly ten thousand tabs open, including some that have been open for, like, months, here are some links!

The wonderful Shadow Manor linked to my dead fairy gaff! Always appreciated.

The Victorian bottled sand art of Andrew Clemens. Amazing, amazing, amazing. More pictures are here. With most stuff I see, I can at least sort of understand how it was done. This borders on the incomprehensible.

The art of Kate MacDowell is deeply disturbing, but also incredibly beautiful. She renders incredibly detailed, accurate, and delicate animal, vegetable, and human forms in fine porcelain clay, blending them together in lovely and frightful ways, commenting on our broken relationship to the world around us. There's a subtle horror at work here. It's beautiful stuff, but it gives me the shudders.

This is much less creepy. Laurel Roth's animal skulls rendered in transparent acrylic. Most are highly polished like clear crystal, but some are orange-tinted like amber. I really, really like these. They aren't just straightforward casts of skulls, although that would be awesome, too. She sculpted them and made them perfectly smooth, which gives them a really neat look. Her detail is perfect.

Wine bar treasure trunk. This thing is really cool.

So is this beautiful table made of a single draped sheet of clear acrylic. Looks like a clear, freestanding tablecloth.

Creating fruit juice 'caviar' using a syringe to drop the juice into a calcium chloride bath. I would LOVE to try this. Go and look at the photos, which are absolutely gorgeous.

Quick and dirty instructions on making a prop mandrake root. There's a lot of room for elaboration here. I really like the idea. What I would love to figure out how to do is give the finished root all those tiny little rootlets and hairs. Scrolling down to the Chinese Fleeceflower portion of this Cracked article shows the effect I would love to get. I have no idea how to go about it.

Old, old article about Christina Hendricks trying to find a gown for the Emmy Awards. She's "too big," so she had trouble, which is ludicrous. Anyway, I've had that open as a tab since, like, SEPTEMBER, so I thought I would just link it and say that the custom gown she wound up with is one of the most beautifully-fitted dresses I've ever seen, and looks like a million bucks on her million-dollar body. It is hard to design for really curvaceous figures. This is what it looks like, done correctly.

Also an old article. Last 'sin-eater' celebrated with church service. The restored grave of Richard Munslow, the last known "sin-eater" in England, has been at the centre of a special service in a Shropshire village churchyard. He was buried in 1906. Nothing of especially staggering awesomeness about this link, it's just a quiet little thing that tugs at my hindbrain and makes me want to tell stories. I've had this link open since September, too. No exaggeration. So I thought I'd just link it here so I can close it.

And, last, a call for participants for research on women's experience of porn. If you're female, over 18, live in the US, and you read/watch/listen to/look at porn/erotica, you might take a look and/or spread the link.

Are You a Woman Who Views, Reads, or Listens to Pornography, Erotica, Romance Novels, and/or any other Sexually Explicit Materials?

If so, please share your experiences!

Complete a Short Survey (30 min or less) and Contribute to a Scholarly Understanding of Women’s Experiences with Sexually Explicit Materials

My name is Kari Hempel and I am a female psychology graduate student who is doing my dissertation research on women’s experiences with sexually explicit materials. For too long women’s real experiences with these materials have been ignored. My goal is not to judge anyone’s experiences, but to accumulate surveys from as many women as possible around the country about their positive, negative, and/or mixed experiences with sexually explicit materials, and to present the differences and commonalities in a scholarly, respectful fashion.
naamah_darling: Glass of tawny port on a table branded with a seven-pointed star. (Port Wine and the Morning Star)
I've had these windows open in my browser for ages, and so I will dump them here.

Les oeuvres de Michel Haillard. This is the most amazing furniture I have ever seen. It's like 17th-century French furniture done with animal hides and horns. No description I can give could ever be adequate, so just go look at his gallery.

I can't pick a favorite, but Farnia and Christopher and Albathor stand out in my mind.

There's a little Art Nouveau in there, a little Brian Froud/Dark Crystal. It's barbaric and splendid and utterly sublime. NOTE that the page for each piece often contains detail shots! Don't neglect clicking on those! This guy . . . I would furnish my entire house with his stuff. can you imagine the curio cabinet he could build? When I rule the world, he is building my throne.


Next, Artist Yong Ho Ji makes amazing taxidermy-mount like fantasy animal sculptures out of . . . old tires. Whatever you are thinking it looks like, it looks cooler than that. Not junky at all, but dangerous-looking, creepy, both primitive and futuristic. I love the way the medium mimics the lay of muscle. These animals have a solidity, a reality, that very little animal sculpture does. They look like they have bones inside them.


Moving on, next we have a seriously cool prop: The Radhost Complector!

"The Radhost Complector shows its bearer the way to other world realms and planes of existence."

Take a moment to appreciate the amazing detail, the way the whole thing opens up and comes apart, so that you can see inside of it, the way that it looks like a real thing, something that you could pick up and use. Something that has a purpose.

Great prop art goes sorely unrecognized, so I think we should appreciate it when we find it. I am in love with this object. In love with the way it looks, with its backstory, with what it is meant to do.


Time for our next awesome item. I don't know for how much longer these pictures will be up, since the listing has ended, but check out this eBay auction for a first-rate sideshow gaff of a "mermaid" skeleton. Superb work, almost seamless. Articulating skeletons is harder than you think, however hard you think that is. Concocting a believable gaff is not easy.


Here's a link with pictures of some Green Man architectural ornaments made by James Gurney out of air-drying Crayola Model Magic modeling foam. It's very light, which is a huge advantage when hanging stuff from your walls. I haven't tried this, but I likely will, since I have some Model Magic just laying around. I link for the sake of the idea itself, not because it's a DIY link -- there's actually not any really DIY information there. You can find all sorts of information about faux wood finishing on the internets, though, and sculpting is pretty self-explanatory (note I didn't say easy).


Now I can close out all these windows and go and get some writing done! Thank goodness.
naamah_darling: Glass of tawny port on a table branded with a seven-pointed star. (Port Wine and the Morning Star)
I've had these windows open in my browser for ages, and so I will dump them here.

Les oeuvres de Michel Haillard. This is the most amazing furniture I have ever seen. It's like 17th-century French furniture done with animal hides and horns. No description I can give could ever be adequate, so just go look at his gallery.

I can't pick a favorite, but Farnia and Christopher and Albathor stand out in my mind.

There's a little Art Nouveau in there, a little Brian Froud/Dark Crystal. It's barbaric and splendid and utterly sublime. NOTE that the page for each piece often contains detail shots! Don't neglect clicking on those! This guy . . . I would furnish my entire house with his stuff. can you imagine the curio cabinet he could build? When I rule the world, he is building my throne.


Next, Artist Yong Ho Ji makes amazing taxidermy-mount like fantasy animal sculptures out of . . . old tires. Whatever you are thinking it looks like, it looks cooler than that. Not junky at all, but dangerous-looking, creepy, both primitive and futuristic. I love the way the medium mimics the lay of muscle. These animals have a solidity, a reality, that very little animal sculpture does. They look like they have bones inside them.


Moving on, next we have a seriously cool prop: The Radhost Complector!

"The Radhost Complector shows its bearer the way to other world realms and planes of existence."

Take a moment to appreciate the amazing detail, the way the whole thing opens up and comes apart, so that you can see inside of it, the way that it looks like a real thing, something that you could pick up and use. Something that has a purpose.

Great prop art goes sorely unrecognized, so I think we should appreciate it when we find it. I am in love with this object. In love with the way it looks, with its backstory, with what it is meant to do.


Time for our next awesome item. I don't know for how much longer these pictures will be up, since the listing has ended, but check out this eBay auction for a first-rate sideshow gaff of a "mermaid" skeleton. Superb work, almost seamless. Articulating skeletons is harder than you think, however hard you think that is. Concocting a believable gaff is not easy.


Here's a link with pictures of some Green Man architectural ornaments made by James Gurney out of air-drying Crayola Model Magic modeling foam. It's very light, which is a huge advantage when hanging stuff from your walls. I haven't tried this, but I likely will, since I have some Model Magic just laying around. I link for the sake of the idea itself, not because it's a DIY link -- there's actually not any really DIY information there. You can find all sorts of information about faux wood finishing on the internets, though, and sculpting is pretty self-explanatory (note I didn't say easy).


Now I can close out all these windows and go and get some writing done! Thank goodness.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Bookish)
Finally saw Inception. Amazing movie. Don't understand why people complained it was hard to follow. Also don't understand the feather-plucking frustration people experienced over the ambiguity of the thing. That was the entire point of the movie. Coming down on one side or the other would have cheapened it.

I say that as someone who is not overly fond of ambiguous endings. Too often, not wanting to state something outright is either hamhanded shorthand for "You are watching GREAT ART" when it is not, in fact, any such thing, or it's a sign that your narrative is not actually very interesting because you've relied on mystery to sustain interest. Neither was the case here.

Had friends over for movie night tonight and chased Inception with The Amazing Screw-On Head (always a hit) and Tremors, which I think says something about our taste, and what we require in our entertainment: only that it entertains. As I said to [livejournal.com profile] bat_cheva when discussing movies that are unpleasant for unpleasantness' sake, "I am not terribly entertained my by my own depression." I don't demand cheerful cheerful alla time, but I really can't abide movies that feel like, if you're having a good time, you obviously aren't paying attention to what's REALLY IMPORTANT.

Uhh. What else?

In the interests of documenting this shit, I lowered my Seroquel dose by 1/3 last night to see if that would reduce the constant tiredness. So far, I'm doing okay. Haven't fallen asleep once today, although I really do want to take a nap right now.

This shit is so frustrating sometimes. You want to find something that works and then keep doing that thing, and when that's just not how it is for you it gets annoying fast.

We're in the process of putting together a splash page for Pride and Prostitutes, like the pretty freaking awesome one I did for Vengeance and Valor. I really kinda wish I had a Western-style saddle and someone who's built like Dolly and Delilah and is willing to have their cleavage photographed in a corset.* Because that would make for some serious AWESOME. Sigh.

And, to wrap up this random post of randomness, I have not made you look at my cats lately, so here is a picture of Sif being adorable and laying in our gaming chair:

Butter Fat, Yellow Cat

Captioned by [livejournal.com profile] akttog: "Iz cumftbl, onest."

Tomorrow: expedition to awesome flea market of awesomeness. Hope it's open. Gotta love Oklahoma and hours like "Wednesday through Friday during the day, open most other days if I feel like it."

* N.B.: No, I can't do it myself. I'm way, way too fat through the arms and shoulders and neck. And everywhere else, frankly. That's not me getting down on myself, that's me admitting I am sooooo not built like Scarlett Johannson, which can hardly be held against me.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Bookish)
Finally saw Inception. Amazing movie. Don't understand why people complained it was hard to follow. Also don't understand the feather-plucking frustration people experienced over the ambiguity of the thing. That was the entire point of the movie. Coming down on one side or the other would have cheapened it.

I say that as someone who is not overly fond of ambiguous endings. Too often, not wanting to state something outright is either hamhanded shorthand for "You are watching GREAT ART" when it is not, in fact, any such thing, or it's a sign that your narrative is not actually very interesting because you've relied on mystery to sustain interest. Neither was the case here.

Had friends over for movie night tonight and chased Inception with The Amazing Screw-On Head (always a hit) and Tremors, which I think says something about our taste, and what we require in our entertainment: only that it entertains. As I said to [livejournal.com profile] bat_cheva when discussing movies that are unpleasant for unpleasantness' sake, "I am not terribly entertained my by my own depression." I don't demand cheerful cheerful alla time, but I really can't abide movies that feel like, if you're having a good time, you obviously aren't paying attention to what's REALLY IMPORTANT.

Uhh. What else?

In the interests of documenting this shit, I lowered my Seroquel dose by 1/3 last night to see if that would reduce the constant tiredness. So far, I'm doing okay. Haven't fallen asleep once today, although I really do want to take a nap right now.

This shit is so frustrating sometimes. You want to find something that works and then keep doing that thing, and when that's just not how it is for you it gets annoying fast.

We're in the process of putting together a splash page for Pride and Prostitutes, like the pretty freaking awesome one I did for Vengeance and Valor. I really kinda wish I had a Western-style saddle and someone who's built like Dolly and Delilah and is willing to have their cleavage photographed in a corset.* Because that would make for some serious AWESOME. Sigh.

And, to wrap up this random post of randomness, I have not made you look at my cats lately, so here is a picture of Sif being adorable and laying in our gaming chair:

Butter Fat, Yellow Cat

Captioned by [livejournal.com profile] akttog: "Iz cumftbl, onest."

Tomorrow: expedition to awesome flea market of awesomeness. Hope it's open. Gotta love Oklahoma and hours like "Wednesday through Friday during the day, open most other days if I feel like it."

* N.B.: No, I can't do it myself. I'm way, way too fat through the arms and shoulders and neck. And everywhere else, frankly. That's not me getting down on myself, that's me admitting I am sooooo not built like Scarlett Johannson, which can hardly be held against me.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Lucian No Pants)
Tired and grumpy. Tired and grumpy and busy. And it's amazing how little effort it takes to make me feel tired and grumpy and busy.

We rearranged my room and while supposedly it was to make things easier and nicer all it's really done is make me uncomfortable and irritable. Can't use my computer; no chair. The bed's been moved and my mattress is pretty fucked up besides. My cat hates all the things and is taking it out on me. I haven't slept well in a week. I am thinking of putting the bed back where it was, even though I really want the room for a dresser so I can get my clothes the hell off the floor.

This is also foiling my efforts to get up earlier than two o'clock. Culturally speaking, rising late is an unforgivable crime. I've received less criticism for far more controversial life choices than I have pushback about my circadian rhythm. I don't know why this is, but rising after noon seems to piss people off something fierce. It would be more funny if it wasn't so ubiquitous.

News flash for the entire world: I am not any less lazy and useless when I get up at seven in the morning than I am when I get up at three in the afternoon. It just reduces my exposure to daytime noise and interruptions, and the light of the flaming hatestar, all of which are positives as far as I am concerned. It's not my fault y'all are all diurnal and shit. My sleep needs > your convenience.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, thank you all for your words last night. I got some useful advice and feel better about my pricing choices now, and at least I'm not alone in having that problem. Frustratingly, the best piece of advice -- to work backwards from what I need to make to live and figure out an hourly rate from there -- is problematic for me. I can't reliably work more than a couple of hours a day, if that, which is part of the problem. Being frugal with expenses and generous with my work hours and honest about medical expenses such as drugs and appointments secured without the benefit of insurance, I'd have to charge about $30 an hour to make that work. That's . . . a little steep. Even if you assert that my work is worth that, getting people to buy enough stuff at that rate to support us is . . . not easy. I am thinking about it.

I'm afraid I don't have much else of substance to say tonight (grumpy, tired), but I find posting over at [livejournal.com profile] fever_dreams makes me uncomfortable with posting here less often than I'm linking over there. I'd feel bad about flogging it so hard, but this is one of the only things we have going for us right now, so . . . witness my shamelessness.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Lucian No Pants)
Tired and grumpy. Tired and grumpy and busy. And it's amazing how little effort it takes to make me feel tired and grumpy and busy.

We rearranged my room and while supposedly it was to make things easier and nicer all it's really done is make me uncomfortable and irritable. Can't use my computer; no chair. The bed's been moved and my mattress is pretty fucked up besides. My cat hates all the things and is taking it out on me. I haven't slept well in a week. I am thinking of putting the bed back where it was, even though I really want the room for a dresser so I can get my clothes the hell off the floor.

This is also foiling my efforts to get up earlier than two o'clock. Culturally speaking, rising late is an unforgivable crime. I've received less criticism for far more controversial life choices than I have pushback about my circadian rhythm. I don't know why this is, but rising after noon seems to piss people off something fierce. It would be more funny if it wasn't so ubiquitous.

News flash for the entire world: I am not any less lazy and useless when I get up at seven in the morning than I am when I get up at three in the afternoon. It just reduces my exposure to daytime noise and interruptions, and the light of the flaming hatestar, all of which are positives as far as I am concerned. It's not my fault y'all are all diurnal and shit. My sleep needs > your convenience.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, thank you all for your words last night. I got some useful advice and feel better about my pricing choices now, and at least I'm not alone in having that problem. Frustratingly, the best piece of advice -- to work backwards from what I need to make to live and figure out an hourly rate from there -- is problematic for me. I can't reliably work more than a couple of hours a day, if that, which is part of the problem. Being frugal with expenses and generous with my work hours and honest about medical expenses such as drugs and appointments secured without the benefit of insurance, I'd have to charge about $30 an hour to make that work. That's . . . a little steep. Even if you assert that my work is worth that, getting people to buy enough stuff at that rate to support us is . . . not easy. I am thinking about it.

I'm afraid I don't have much else of substance to say tonight (grumpy, tired), but I find posting over at [livejournal.com profile] fever_dreams makes me uncomfortable with posting here less often than I'm linking over there. I'd feel bad about flogging it so hard, but this is one of the only things we have going for us right now, so . . . witness my shamelessness.
naamah_darling: The Punisher skull with a red ribbon barrette. (Punisher Ribbon)
I'm still having memory problems, chiefly an inability to remember words when I am trying to speak and, to a lesser extent, write. Also, concentration problems, difficulty prioritizing, and a short attention span (max of ~2 hrs., after which everything dies). I'm forgetting what I was talking about in the middle of talking about it several times a day. Also, I'm making a lot more spelling errors, chiefly with homophones. This makes me so angry.

These are scary symptoms. Upping the thyroid meds was supposed to help with the dullness of thought. It has, somewhat. Not completely. I'm upping it again to see if that helps. If it doesn't . . . I don't even know. I'm worried about it, probably for no real reason, but I'm not about to let it slide. I take my brain really seriously. I don't like feeling like it's not working right. And this feels different from anything I've felt before. More stubborn, more disruptive.

Other than that, progress on the novel continues. No word yet from the potential publishers re: eligibility of the manuscript. I wish I could go on posting, because it's lonely and boring and the feedback was a real bright spot in my week as well as a powerful motivator, but . . . I have to try this.

I cut about four inches off my hair. Still well past my shoulders, but shorter than it's been in a long, long time. I love having long hair, but I've never had the kind of hair I wish I had. Mine is very fine and I don't have as much of it as I would like. Thankfully I don't need or want hair that "does" anything. I don't want it styled or anything. I just want it to be long and soft. Split ends were getting in the way of the soft part, so I cut them all off. Feels better.

Been in kind of a down patch for reasons too complicated and trivial to go into here, and no doubt the bipolar thing is playing its role as well. I'm feeling frustrated and inadequate, in no small part due to my inability to brain properly and the negative effect that is having on my ability to get shit done (which is terrible on a good day).

Amazingly! Body image woe is still at an unprecedented low following the epic ass-beating of August 02. The hate-beast has stayed pretty much quiet, despite a couple of events that should have caused terrible, terrible emotional pain. Whatever. I've just decided to not give a fuck what people think of me when I'm not trying to be attractive. I'll worry about what people think of my appearance if I'm trying to look sexy or appealing, but not before. And frankly, if I'm trying and someone still doesn't like what they see, they have a serious problem. I'm pretty, and when I make something out of it, I'm beautiful. I'm not saying I have to be everyone's type, but there really is no arguing that I'm not attractive. I wish I looked different, but . . . I can't look the way I want. And I am learning to be okay with that.

If I had known that going and getting my backside striped in front of everyone and their undead monkey was going to have such a long-lasting salutary effect, I would have done it years and years ago, and maybe never would have fallen into the sick trap of starving and abusing myself. It's at least given me a reference for what it feels like to have that particular part of my brain go quiet, so I might conceivably be able to find my way back there should I ever go too far astray. Interesting, and completely unexpected. I'm still not sure what to make of that.
naamah_darling: The Punisher skull with a red ribbon barrette. (Punisher Ribbon)
I'm still having memory problems, chiefly an inability to remember words when I am trying to speak and, to a lesser extent, write. Also, concentration problems, difficulty prioritizing, and a short attention span (max of ~2 hrs., after which everything dies). I'm forgetting what I was talking about in the middle of talking about it several times a day. Also, I'm making a lot more spelling errors, chiefly with homophones. This makes me so angry.

These are scary symptoms. Upping the thyroid meds was supposed to help with the dullness of thought. It has, somewhat. Not completely. I'm upping it again to see if that helps. If it doesn't . . . I don't even know. I'm worried about it, probably for no real reason, but I'm not about to let it slide. I take my brain really seriously. I don't like feeling like it's not working right. And this feels different from anything I've felt before. More stubborn, more disruptive.

Other than that, progress on the novel continues. No word yet from the potential publishers re: eligibility of the manuscript. I wish I could go on posting, because it's lonely and boring and the feedback was a real bright spot in my week as well as a powerful motivator, but . . . I have to try this.

I cut about four inches off my hair. Still well past my shoulders, but shorter than it's been in a long, long time. I love having long hair, but I've never had the kind of hair I wish I had. Mine is very fine and I don't have as much of it as I would like. Thankfully I don't need or want hair that "does" anything. I don't want it styled or anything. I just want it to be long and soft. Split ends were getting in the way of the soft part, so I cut them all off. Feels better.

Been in kind of a down patch for reasons too complicated and trivial to go into here, and no doubt the bipolar thing is playing its role as well. I'm feeling frustrated and inadequate, in no small part due to my inability to brain properly and the negative effect that is having on my ability to get shit done (which is terrible on a good day).

Amazingly! Body image woe is still at an unprecedented low following the epic ass-beating of August 02. The hate-beast has stayed pretty much quiet, despite a couple of events that should have caused terrible, terrible emotional pain. Whatever. I've just decided to not give a fuck what people think of me when I'm not trying to be attractive. I'll worry about what people think of my appearance if I'm trying to look sexy or appealing, but not before. And frankly, if I'm trying and someone still doesn't like what they see, they have a serious problem. I'm pretty, and when I make something out of it, I'm beautiful. I'm not saying I have to be everyone's type, but there really is no arguing that I'm not attractive. I wish I looked different, but . . . I can't look the way I want. And I am learning to be okay with that.

If I had known that going and getting my backside striped in front of everyone and their undead monkey was going to have such a long-lasting salutary effect, I would have done it years and years ago, and maybe never would have fallen into the sick trap of starving and abusing myself. It's at least given me a reference for what it feels like to have that particular part of my brain go quiet, so I might conceivably be able to find my way back there should I ever go too far astray. Interesting, and completely unexpected. I'm still not sure what to make of that.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Tootsie Pops!)
Because I am all kinds of feeling like crap today, here's something fucked up and hilarious to lighten the mood.

These roosters have been specially bred to have a very long crow. They sound like Godzilla. It is fucking badass.

Warning! Sudden horrible noise! Requires sound, but don't turn it up too loud! Those with headphones, take care.



Naturally, these birds belong in entertainment:



(I KID WITH LOVE.)

I really want one of those screaming as my ringtone.

As awesome as they are, I am really glad that these things don't live near me.

Also, if I had the money, I would totally pay [livejournal.com profile] ursulav to paint me a corpse-painted, bullet-belted, nail-studded, death rooster screaming in the middle of that one forest that shows up in all the band publicity shots.

Cock jokes commence in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Tootsie Pops!)
Because I am all kinds of feeling like crap today, here's something fucked up and hilarious to lighten the mood.

These roosters have been specially bred to have a very long crow. They sound like Godzilla. It is fucking badass.

Warning! Sudden horrible noise! Requires sound, but don't turn it up too loud! Those with headphones, take care.



Naturally, these birds belong in entertainment:



(I KID WITH LOVE.)

I really want one of those screaming as my ringtone.

As awesome as they are, I am really glad that these things don't live near me.

Also, if I had the money, I would totally pay [livejournal.com profile] ursulav to paint me a corpse-painted, bullet-belted, nail-studded, death rooster screaming in the middle of that one forest that shows up in all the band publicity shots.

Cock jokes commence in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Fridge Poetry)
Superheroes vs. the Westboro Baptist Church. What happens when fans and a hate group collide. Pictures from the counter-protest held at the San Diego ComicCon. These are my people, and I am proud of them for responding with such humor. I, personally, would just be throwing bricks at their faces. This is why I don't leave the house much. Throwing bricks at people's faces is not that impressive as superpowers go.

The Total Erasure of Partial Disability, a post I've had open for a couple of months now, trying to figure out what exactly I want to say about it. I don't know what I want to say about it besides "Word." So I will just leave the link here. It's a good read, especially the last half. I very much agree with a lot of what Meowser is saying.

Sex Is Not The Enemy, a Tumblr blog focusing on positive sexual and pornographic images, along with good quotes. I quite like the content, not all of which is to my taste, exactly, but all of which shows an exuberance or open-mindedness that makes the pictures valuable in more than a have-a-quick-wank kind of way. Refreshing and often really sweet/cute.

A doctor's letter to patients with chronic disease.

I appreciate the sentiment behind this one very much, and taken in the spirit in which it is meant, this is a very meaningful letter. I was touched and relieved to hear these things from an actual doctor because it is always nice to hear that people understand.

Also interesting are the negative responses, which highlight many of the problems with doctor-patient relationships. As there always is when discussing this sort of thing, there are a number of terribly sad and frustrating stories there, so be warned of that before proceeding.

I don't think either side is wrong, I think they both have valid and valuable things to say, and I think the intent of both sides is the same: to improve patient-doctor interactions so that patients receive the best care they can get. (Well, perhaps "afford" is the right word; medical care is, apparently, only for the rich and/or healthy. But that's not the subject of the letter, and I'm feeling particularly pissy about the issue, so we will leave it there.)

Doctors need to change how they interact with patients and they absolutely bear responsibility for their own behavior, but for a patient, knowing how to navigate an imperfect system as it is is a valuable skill. It does not require accepting a broken system, it only acknowledges that we must go on about the business of living and dying, getting sick and getting better, and sometimes not getting better at all, while the system is being fixed. In that regard, a voice from the inside of any broken system is a valuable thing,
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Fridge Poetry)
Superheroes vs. the Westboro Baptist Church. What happens when fans and a hate group collide. Pictures from the counter-protest held at the San Diego ComicCon. These are my people, and I am proud of them for responding with such humor. I, personally, would just be throwing bricks at their faces. This is why I don't leave the house much. Throwing bricks at people's faces is not that impressive as superpowers go.

The Total Erasure of Partial Disability, a post I've had open for a couple of months now, trying to figure out what exactly I want to say about it. I don't know what I want to say about it besides "Word." So I will just leave the link here. It's a good read, especially the last half. I very much agree with a lot of what Meowser is saying.

Sex Is Not The Enemy, a Tumblr blog focusing on positive sexual and pornographic images, along with good quotes. I quite like the content, not all of which is to my taste, exactly, but all of which shows an exuberance or open-mindedness that makes the pictures valuable in more than a have-a-quick-wank kind of way. Refreshing and often really sweet/cute.

A doctor's letter to patients with chronic disease.

I appreciate the sentiment behind this one very much, and taken in the spirit in which it is meant, this is a very meaningful letter. I was touched and relieved to hear these things from an actual doctor because it is always nice to hear that people understand.

Also interesting are the negative responses, which highlight many of the problems with doctor-patient relationships. As there always is when discussing this sort of thing, there are a number of terribly sad and frustrating stories there, so be warned of that before proceeding.

I don't think either side is wrong, I think they both have valid and valuable things to say, and I think the intent of both sides is the same: to improve patient-doctor interactions so that patients receive the best care they can get. (Well, perhaps "afford" is the right word; medical care is, apparently, only for the rich and/or healthy. But that's not the subject of the letter, and I'm feeling particularly pissy about the issue, so we will leave it there.)

Doctors need to change how they interact with patients and they absolutely bear responsibility for their own behavior, but for a patient, knowing how to navigate an imperfect system as it is is a valuable skill. It does not require accepting a broken system, it only acknowledges that we must go on about the business of living and dying, getting sick and getting better, and sometimes not getting better at all, while the system is being fixed. In that regard, a voice from the inside of any broken system is a valuable thing,
naamah_darling: Grainy tintype of a slightly disheveled but very cute Victorian guy with a scar across the bridge of his nose. (Gaming)
I've been meaning to post more, to be more active here on LJ, which is really my second home (my first being my imaginary worlds, and my third being this meat puzzle I'm currently wearing). It's just that I've forgotten how time-consuming and energy-consuming it is to write, probably because I haven't been able to do it in so long.

I finished out a sex scene today and promptly took a three-hour nap. Granted, I slept kind of poorly last night, but still.

I'm on chapter four now, giving me a two-week lead that I would like to see widen. We'll see if I can pull that off. Anyway, if I'm scarce, that's why. I'm working. And it's fun.

Be that as it may, chapter two of Vengeance and Valor goes up tomorrow. I've been really, really heartened to see how many of you friended [livejournal.com profile] fever_dreams. I really appreciate that. And I appreciate the donations, too. Very much. Thank you. I am hoping this works out.

I've got a 400,000 word swashbuckling fantasy porn epic already posted over at [livejournal.com profile] fever_dreams, so I've decided that a couple of times a week I am going to go in and unlock a chapter of it. More about that when the first bit gets unlocked. I'm trying to keep interest up, and updating V&V once a week, while about all I can handle on a writing basis, seems a little sparse to me. I'd like to give you all something to chew on in the interim. It also gives me something to resort to if I can't make deadline at some point.

So, if you haven't already, and you would like to read a rollicking good steampunk adventure story with extra steam, go over and friend [livejournal.com profile] fever_dreams, and you will get the bonus package with swordfighting, funny hats, and lots and lots of ravishment.

In other news that involves getting screwed in a much less agreeable sense of the word, tonight is gaming with the Atlantean Irregulars, and an end to the damnable motherfucking cliffhanger that Sargon left us with last week, with a prominent NPC and friend of my character in particular in some pretty ugly trouble, not to mention the hot water our enigmatic native guide appears to be in concerning one pissed-off warlock and a giant fucking boar. The rest of us get cultists. Not amused. Gentry has been on tenterhooks for a week now. If he flaps and flutters any more, he's going to achieve liftoff. At least we have an ex-gladiator saber-toothed tiger on our side, and a giant Scotsman with a flaming sword. We could do worse.

And, a final silly note, if you Google image search "Tazendra," my cat is all over that first page. I am stupidly proud of her for that. I could make a post every day of the week saying nothing more than "I love my cat" and it would be a ten of importance on a scale of one to ten. Every time.
naamah_darling: Grainy tintype of a slightly disheveled but very cute Victorian guy with a scar across the bridge of his nose. (Gaming)
I've been meaning to post more, to be more active here on LJ, which is really my second home (my first being my imaginary worlds, and my third being this meat puzzle I'm currently wearing). It's just that I've forgotten how time-consuming and energy-consuming it is to write, probably because I haven't been able to do it in so long.

I finished out a sex scene today and promptly took a three-hour nap. Granted, I slept kind of poorly last night, but still.

I'm on chapter four now, giving me a two-week lead that I would like to see widen. We'll see if I can pull that off. Anyway, if I'm scarce, that's why. I'm working. And it's fun.

Be that as it may, chapter two of Vengeance and Valor goes up tomorrow. I've been really, really heartened to see how many of you friended [livejournal.com profile] fever_dreams. I really appreciate that. And I appreciate the donations, too. Very much. Thank you. I am hoping this works out.

I've got a 400,000 word swashbuckling fantasy porn epic already posted over at [livejournal.com profile] fever_dreams, so I've decided that a couple of times a week I am going to go in and unlock a chapter of it. More about that when the first bit gets unlocked. I'm trying to keep interest up, and updating V&V once a week, while about all I can handle on a writing basis, seems a little sparse to me. I'd like to give you all something to chew on in the interim. It also gives me something to resort to if I can't make deadline at some point.

So, if you haven't already, and you would like to read a rollicking good steampunk adventure story with extra steam, go over and friend [livejournal.com profile] fever_dreams, and you will get the bonus package with swordfighting, funny hats, and lots and lots of ravishment.

In other news that involves getting screwed in a much less agreeable sense of the word, tonight is gaming with the Atlantean Irregulars, and an end to the damnable motherfucking cliffhanger that Sargon left us with last week, with a prominent NPC and friend of my character in particular in some pretty ugly trouble, not to mention the hot water our enigmatic native guide appears to be in concerning one pissed-off warlock and a giant fucking boar. The rest of us get cultists. Not amused. Gentry has been on tenterhooks for a week now. If he flaps and flutters any more, he's going to achieve liftoff. At least we have an ex-gladiator saber-toothed tiger on our side, and a giant Scotsman with a flaming sword. We could do worse.

And, a final silly note, if you Google image search "Tazendra," my cat is all over that first page. I am stupidly proud of her for that. I could make a post every day of the week saying nothing more than "I love my cat" and it would be a ten of importance on a scale of one to ten. Every time.

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