Ookay. I'm officially insane in this undertaking.
( Geekery )
I am officially insane.

Grandpa's memorial was a major success, more on that later.
Bills finally caught up to kick my ass -_- But have been sorted out all the same.

Halloween this year is going to be spent in Steampunk style at the Edison.

Umm...
Umm...

I wish this fucking user would pick up their goddamn fucking phone.


/hate

Posting it here just to get it out.
This past week has been... well, epic hell for me.
Tuesday, my grandfather went back into the hospital
Same day, my dog died.
My mother called me Wedesday morning to tell me that she thought I should come down, because my grandfather was probably not leaving the hospital.
I spent that and the next day going down to sit with him, with Adrian at my side. He's been amazingly helpful through this.
On Wedesday night, my grandfather and my mother had a talk, and they agreed that my grandfather wasn't going to continue any more dialysis. He was in an incredible amount of pain, and the dialysis was only doing more harm than good at this point.
Thursday, the hospital decided that he was stable enough to be handed over to in-home hospice care, for end of life. So my mother asked me to rest up on Friday and come down again on Saturday, to take over caring for him in home. We needed someone to be with him at all hours.
So I went down early Saturday morning, and it was going... well. Though my grandfather was heavily medicated, he was still very responsive. He would make an effort to try and open his eyes when we spoke to him, he squeezed my hand once or twice when I was sitting alone with him, and when the hospice nurse came to change him and check on him, we started talking to her about our heritage, about the Appleby family and how we're related to the Castles who are part of Clan Kennedy, showed her pictures...
When we did that, Grandpa just came... so very alive. He made sound, got animated... he even smiled, real big.
After the nurse left, my cousin's wife called, to suggest we put some music on for Grandpa, some of his bagpipes to bring him comfort. My grandma and I went to try getting the player working while my mom stayed talking to Grandpa.
She told him what we were doing, and came out to help us, before looking back... and for the first time all day his eyes were open and following her, like he needed to tell her something.
She came back to him and saw that the color was draining out of his face, so she ran to the door to call for us.
"Come quick, I think he's going."
At 4:20pm Saturday, September 19th, 2009, my grandfather passed away. He died in the loving embraces of his wife, his daughter, and his grandson. The last things he heard were us telling him we loved him, and that it was okay to go, he would see his son Tommy Ray (who passed away some time ago).
I haven't had time, admittedly, to cry. After he passed, my mom kind of... fell apart, just a bit. She couldn't deal being in the same room anymore, she couldn't stand the idea of being there when the mortuary attendants came to get him or even talking to Hospice, so I told her to go home, and that I would take care of it instead.
It took them hours to come and get him, and in the interim time, I went out to sit on the porch, to just... watch the sunset like my grandpa used to.
After a little while, my grandma came out and sat down beside me. She's never been a big talker, so it was a hell of a surprise when she looked at me and said,
"... Do you want to have a beer with me? For Grandpa?"
So last night I sat down and ate dinner with my Grandma on the porch, and we had a beer in his memory, then spent a little time out there looking at the stars, just like they used to.
I only just got home about... 45 minutes ago now. Needed to get this off my chest before doing anything else.

In Memory of Thomas Nolan Appleby
June 9th, 1922 - September 19th, 2009

So, I've been awake for over 24 hours at this point.
Came into work early because otherwise I would have been falling totally asleep.
Get to leave early so, win-rar... sorta.

So, the morning has already yielded one of the gems that make us techy types love this job.
Helpdesk got a call from a user, an executive, asking if "the Norton Simon software [had] a firewall?"
Ahh, geek humor.


*snooze* 

Title: Ransom

Prompt: Strawberries and whipped cream, from 100_lemons

Setting: Darkside University/Demon Courts

Characters: Atsushi Karasu, Imitska, Sirius Faun, Sauron Valadan

Rules: 500 word minimum, neither the strawberries nor the whipped cream may be eaten during the story, does not have to be a lemon, 45 minute time limit.

 

 

( It was so damn irresistable. )

 

Title: Out of Time

Prompt: Time

Setting: The Matrix Ver. 3.0

Character(s): Cyanide

 

 

 

Title: The Man Without A Face
Prompt: Who?
Series: Unnamed Steampunk World
Character(s): Captain Caliban Moore

 

( The working man knows his name... )

 

Do eeeeeeeeet.



1. Your Middle Name:

2. Age:

3. Single or Taken:

4. Favourite Film:

5. Favourite Song or Album:

6. Favourite Band/Artist:

7. Dirty or Clean:

8. Tattoos and/or Piercings:

9. Do we know each other outside of LJ?

10. What's your philosophy on life?

11. Is the bottle half-full or half-empty?

12. Would you keep a secret from me if you thought it was in my best interest?

13. What is your favorite memory of us?

14. What is your favorite guilty pleasure?

15. Tell me one odd/interesting fact about you:

16. You can have three wishes (for yourself, so forget all the 'world peace etc' malarky) - what are they?

17. Can we get together and make a cake?

18. Which country is your spiritual home?

19. What is your big weakness?

20. Do you think I'm a good person?

21. What was your best/favorite subject at school?

22. Describe your accent:

23. If you could change anything about me, would you?

24. What do you wear to sleep?

25. Trousers or skirts?

26. Cigarettes or alcohol?

27. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together? (If you have no idea, just say something crazy, it'll entertain me!)

28. Will you repost this so I can fill it out for you?

Kicks so much ass.
Go see it.
NAO

Title: Untitled
Prompt: She, from The 100 List
Series: Old World of Darkness
Character(s): Lucius Delacourte

It’s how she moves.

That has to be it, he decides, as he watches her weave through the crowds in the club, slipping between knots of dancing mortals as they writhe together to the music, stepping lithely out of the way of two who’ve fallen out of step, darting just out of reach of a staggering drunk almost without even realizing she’s moved.

Her hips sway, hypnotizing, her body’s movements a dance unto itself, moving to her own music, unheard by anyone but her. A celebration of her undead life, her beauty, for all to see that they may covet what they would never possess.

Her eyes meet his, they can always find each other, whether it’s across the dance floor or across a city, and she smiles for a moment, smiles her secret smile that’s only for him, and in that moment he knows well that she can see straight into him as well as he can see into her. He’s been with her since the beginning, since she was brought into their night-world against her will. They’ve been together what feels like an eternity, and yet when she smiles at him like that, it’s like the first time he laid eyes on her, bloodied and exhausted after her trials against Lucita. Venus given flesh.

If only, he thinks, taking a breath he doesn’t need to release it as a sigh, the only effective way to express the twinge of regret he feels. If only what? The list went on, if only he weren’t so inclined, if only she took their kind as lovers and not the kine, if only it wouldn’t complicate things between them, destroy the delicate and intricate relationship between the two of them. But though the desire for the touch of a woman is foreign to him, he feels it nonetheless, when he looks at her. If only, but never.

Her gaze moves from him and fixes elsewhere, and Lucius knows well what her eyes say for the moment or so he can see them before she vanishes into the crowds. She’s found her mark, and tonight she’ll have him, the mortal that he sees her settle next to a few minutes later. And it doesn’t matter if he’s in love, or if he’s married, he’ll fall for her, as they always do. And then he’ll become another number, another statistic, sacrificed to sate her desire and her hunger if only for a little while.

That’s the purpose of cattle, he smiles, as he settles back, shaking his head as he watches her engage her target. Dinner has a handsome face, strong shoulders, and from what he can see a cute ass, but obviously no sense of humor – Lucius can see her laughter is forced from the look in her eyes, the exasperation she feels at the find of another boring mark.

His cellphone goes off, he can hear it through the pounding music of the club, and in the short time that he glances down to the number and glances back up, she’s gone. He can see a faint hint of her as she disappears back into the dancing masses, leading her mark astray for the last few hours of his pitifully short life, and he sighs.

What a way to go.

Title: Nights Like These…
Prompt: 56 “Old”, from 60damnprompts
Series: Old World of Darkness
Character(s): Lucius Delacourte

White eyes didn’t blink, didn’t dry, weren’t irritated by the little wisps of hair that danced in and out of them as the wind whipped them around, as he tore down darkened roads at 95mph. He’d left the headlights off again, he didn’t need them, hadn’t needed them by the time they were a feature added to cars, and would never need them any time in the forseeable future. Night was as bright as day for him.

And what a glorious night it was. No moon, and so overcast that not even the feeble light of stars dared disturb the beautiful blanket of darkness that enveloped him, his vehicle, like the arms of a lover.

If he could have doused the lights of his dashboard, he would have.

The Lotus Evora’s engine roared, as he rounded another turn, not bothering to slow down. He had the road to himself, more or less. Far ahead, he could see the faint red of the tail light of Shane’s bike; Shane was doing a steady 140 or so, he figured, and that was just fine for him. It gave him time to himself, a little moment of solitude that was so rare, nowadays. Lucius sighed softly, as he shifted gears with practiced ease, idly noting in the back of his mind that as his speed crept from 95 to 110, and still he didn’t roll up the windows. He wasn’t cold, the vampire had long ago ceased to register what it meant to be cold. He could scarcely hear the roar of the wind above the music that blared from his car's speakers, German-darkwave that made his passions rise and stir, that brought to light hints of the Beast that dwelt within him and hadn't been sated in so long.

It was nights like this that he loved and loathed in one. Nights like this made him think too much, made his blood boil and his heart race in anticipation…

Anticipation of what? The good old days, when he and his pack roamed the world, never knowing from one day to the next where they’d be spending their periods of dreamless slumber away from the deadly rays of the sun. The good old days when crashing in the trunk of a car was perfectly acceptable, when the danger of tempting fate by racing daylight was common-place and welcomed. When he’d felt alive, unstoppable, immortal in the truest sense of the word…

Now that the Detroit conflict had gone on for so long, Lucius oftentimes wondered if those days would ever return, and if they ever did, at what price? It was no mystery to the Cardinal, that so many were pleased that he was finally immobile, held in one place by a treaty that pride and concern for his reputation didn’t allow him to break, railroaded into a corner and forced to settle, forced to remain stationary where they could keep tabs on him and his – the Consistatory’s loose cannon finally tamed and brought to bear.Or so they thought.

Lucius’ eyes narrowed, as he floored the gas once he hit a straight-away, teeth clenched as he envisioned the faces of his fellow Cardinals, of the Regent herself, in his mind’s eye. Paranoid control-freaks, smug in their hold over the world, over the Sabbat, whose laws they flouted and no longer understood. No one in power understood what true freedom was anymore, their unlives perpetually dedicated to preserving immortality to the extent that they forgot to live. And worse yet, he could feel himself beginning to think like them, recognizing the errors of his ways, recognizing that safety really did lay in remaining hidden, remaining safe and secure…

When Shane had first approached him with the idea of a night out, wreaking hell upon a Prince outside of Detroit, in a small suburb, Lucius had damn near turned him down, out of what felt like an almost instinctive desire to fall back on his rank, his priviledge and power. But Shane had dragged it out of him, damn near shamed him into getting into the car, and so he’d driven out this far, following the youngest member of his pack on a wild night that would bring him more than a little trouble come the next evening, but he didn’t care. Refused to care, because tonight he needed to feel young again, needed to remember what it felt like to capture the destructive fire of youth that had, until so recently, always burned within him.

He rounded another bend, out of the corner of his eye he momentarily marveled at the tall trees and verdant greenery that lined either side of the road, and wondered briefly what it looked like in the light of the day.

Longing, the likes of which he hadn’t felt in centuries, seized at his heart so suddenly that he almost hit the brakes, speed dropping slowly from 120 and back to 90 before he could tear himself out of it. He shook himself, cursing in his native Austrian as he floored the gas once again, hands clenching the steering wheel as he berated himself for daring to think as he had, to feel longing for a life that he’d given up long ago in pursuit of sweet immortality and freedom from all who would command him, who would use him as a weapon in the name of God, to further their own goals. He unconsciously shifted his lower jaw back to accommodate the ever-present fangs that his Embrace had graced him with, teeth clenched against further outburst as he navigated his vehicle along the dark roads, passing another vehicle skillfully, weaving out of the lane and then back in once again before they’d even realized he’d come up behind them.

The biggest problem, he reasoned, was that of late he felt like a prisoner in his own city. Discouraged by his Archbishops, Bishops, and his fellow Cardinal, Clarion, from taking any unnecessary risks, he’d grown complacent, tired… and for the first time in his life, perhaps a bit old. Weary. And damned if he’d stand for it, damned if he’d let them win.

Movement.

Movement at the corner of his eye, and Lucius cursed softly under his breath, gaze flicking to the side, then ahead once more, gauging the distance between Shane and himself. Anything moving fast enough to register as distinct at his speed would certainly close the distance between himself and Shane in no time, and Lucius was far better prepared than Shane to deal with just whatever might be out there.

He shifted one last time, accelerator to the floor as he tore forward, closing that remaining small gap between himself and Shane in what he supposed would have amounted to a few heartbeats, if his heart still beat. He could see Shane’s head turn towards him for a moment, could feel his packmate’s eyes on him through his mirrored visor, caught the nod and watched as Shane’s bike roared ahead of his car, before he hit the brakes at long last, grinning at the scream of tires over asphalt, the faint scent of burning rubber, knowing he’d leave the most impressive trail in his wake as he brought the vehicle to a halt in the middle of the road, cleanly straddling the line.

He could hear the sound of them coming, heavy pattering sounds over the ground, as he got out of the car, running pale fingers through silken white hair.

“… Come on and hit me, you fuzzy little motherfuckers…” Lucius whispered to himself, smiling madly despite himself. “Make me feel young again.”

So, I started a blog on thatguywiththeglasses.com, called This Means War.
Other than that, I have done very little that is of import today.

This is motherfucking PASADENA.
We're not supposed to have random burst of FUCK-COLD and RAIN in JUNE!

So...
This weekend, angered by the cost of automotive repairs, Adrian and I will be attempting to replace the brake pads on my Civic.
Certain hilarity will follow.
But I'm fairly certain that between the two of us and with the Internet, we can figure shit out...

Today, I understood what it meant to be hated.
And I understood what it feels like to be tossed a cursory victory in an attempt to soothe over the loss of something far more important.
I understood what it was to basically have someone smile at me right after they spat in my face.
And I'm sincerely considering taking the rest of the afternoon off.

Well, I guess the moment of truth is indeed here.
We have an apartment.
It's a 1bdroom in Pasadena, and it's weirdly quirky but quite nice.
So...
...
...
I guess it's time to say so long to the mo-fuckin AV.

So, not everyone will get the titular reference... at this point the high is such that I don't care, the ones that do get it will lol.

Last night, Daniel, Adrian and I went out to do an Exalted-style dinner, Daniel's treat as he insisted.
So we decided on this local Persian place, called Pars. Heard good things about it, and damned if I don't love Iranian foods.
So, we got there, and I suppose our first indication that something was up, should have been the overly pushy waitress, who tried to take our inquiry about the price of the drink she mentioned as an order for three of them, which was quickly corrected. Okay, stuff happens, fine, she's trying to be helpful so that's cool right?
So, we placed our orders - a few drinks off their specialty menu, an order of dolmeh, and three salads.
While we were there, a larger party that had made reservations arrived, and this is where the evening started to take a nose-dive.
We waited somewhere around fifteen minutes for our drinks to arrive, which were not made as advertised in their flyer and certainly tasted terrible - mine was like drinking pure gin. And several minutes later, all of a sudden our salads arrive without notice, without comment, without word one about our dolmeh.
Displeasure? Just a bit. But we decided to let it slide at first.
Then came the wait for simple things that would have allowed us to eat our food. Daniel didn't like what he ordered, so he and I swapped salads quite amiably... and then began the twelve minute wait for the lavash bread that would have allowed me to, y'know, actually eat olivieh.
It also bears mentioning, we were seated right in the path from the kitchen to the dining area, so we were kind of hard to forget... but at this point, we ceased to exist because from then on, the waitstaff went so far as to bump into our chairs in passing without a word, to tend to the larger party, where they had a guarantee of a fifteen percent gratuity already.
This... was needless to say rather irritating.
I think the top-off of the evening, when we were left sitting with empty or near empty plates/glasses, while the larger party was attentively waited on hand and foot by the servers.
So, I set out to get a simple goal accomplished: take the dolmeh we never got off the bill.
But getting the attention of the waitstaff was impossible, so I kicked it up a notch.
I got the attention of the owner.
Quick wrist flick, and a polite but displeased request for the check was where the magic, apparently began.
Rolling Dominate + Presence for the win - perfect successes across the board.
He asked us how everything was, and somehow without getting too sarcastic, I told him what we'd thought of the evening, how we'd been treated...
... and somehow, some way, with Adrian and Daniel gazing on in shock and amazement, a simple quest to get the dolmeh off the menu ended up in the owner comping the entire meal.
It was on him, he said, and he sincerely apologized for the evening, they weren't usually like this, and he wanted to make it up to us.
Adrian and Daniel looked at me, and just said "Dude, that was Talon!"
So, queue us finally getting our dolmeh, before deciding that, in the end, we were really ready to leave. We asked for containers, were briought them by our distracted waitress, who having already received a talking to by the owner, brought us the bill and walked away to the other table again.
Queue the owner swooping in to take the bill from my hands, and assuring me that it's on him. We were polite, assured him we were willing to give the place another try, and bid him good night.
Somehow, Talon Godchild just managed to save us $44 bucks.
And later on, when we got admittedly munch-heavy and headed to Sonic, when Adrian's sandwich was discovered missing when we got home,when we went back a quiet chat with the car hop got Adrian a sundae.

So, in short, I am Talon fucking Godchild. Phear me.

BACKGROUND: We've been drinking since midnight. DST just kicked in yo, and Adrian was worried momentarily that he'd somehow lost an hour while we'd been drinking. Discussion ensues.

Me: Alcohol makes you a fucking Time Lord!
Raccoon: Liquid TARDIS!

Where your heart leaps into your fucking throat because something so un-fucking-fair is happening to someone you know?
Had that situation today.
I got a call from my contractor, D. D said that my old supervisor at Dryden, P, has a temp space that needs to be filled ASAP because someone is getting deployed back to service.
While finding out if I knew anyone that could get Adrian a ride out there, cuz he can do the job, I found out who it is... and I'm so mad I could spit.
There's this guy that I became pretty good friends with while I was working there, J. J was in the Army, did his tour of duty in Iraq, and came back with PTSD and physiological disorders from the immunizations he was given - which are not intended for people of his ethnicity, apparently. He breaks out into hives when he sweats, or when he gets cold.
He's also the father of a new baby girl, who was born in December.
He's been sent his papers, they're calling him back. After everything they did to J, they want him back.
And I feel so fucking... angry right now that I can't see straight.

So, I have sitting before me the WORST FUCKING SUSHI I HAVE EVER HAD.
Decided to go somewhere for lunch today @ work, and tried a place in the area that people have praised before, called Ichiban.
Ordered two fairly simple fucking rolls.
Got back here.
They're tiny. There's not much rice, which would be a good thing if the balance of stuff that ought to go into the rolls was right.
The spicy tuna in the spicy tuna roll is the consistency of mush. Like chewed up then spat out mush. It tastes far too STRONG to be as "fresh" as the place advertises.
Asparagus roll looks sad.
And I had to pay for wasabi, because I was told it was not included, only to find out BAM THERE'S MOTHERFUCKING WASABI IN HERE.
So if you're ever in the Pasadena/La Cañada/Flintridge area, don't go to Ichiban. They fucking suck.