karanguni: (RUFUS looks)
One morning I woke up and realised I could make Rufus terrifying. My life has not been the same since. Many thanks to [profile] pere_chan and [profile] dnatio_memoriae for flailing through betajobs, and much has changed since - though, since it's me, not necessarily for the better... With these boys I think "worse" is always a better option.

If Talking Were Effective, Yelling Would Be Academic (1/?)

Fandom: FFVII/FFXII [community profile] nasdack AU
Characters: Rufus, Balthier, Tseng; Cast of Office Gawkers: Reno, Rude, Elena
Rating: PG13
Summary: Rufus, Enfant Terrifying. Since it would be bad advice to tell any of them to talk things out, Rufus opts for alternatives.

3275 words of ?!?!

'Draw,' Rufus saysore slowly, rolling up the cuffs of his pristinely pressed white shirt with his ringed fingers, 'the shutters.'

ACC

Apr. 21st, 2009 08:10 pm
karanguni: (MIDGAR rising)
I AM WATCHING ADVENT CHILDREN UNSUBBED

Mindless squee )

[edit2]

I conclude that, using Rude and Reno as examples, in the Physical World of Final Fantasy VII, Turks bounce. Even on concrete. Especially on concrete.

The ironic thing is that my favourite line - amongst all the added ones, even those spoken by Rufus and Kadaj and Tifa - in this has to be one from Cloud: Sephiroth is dead.

OBLIGATORY SCREEN CAPS )

Watching ACC is clearly the route to understanding Rufus once more. You liar. You liar. Your fingers twitch when you lie, your fingers lie for you; they animated you using them so beautifully that it doesn't matter where you move them; people are transfixed. Who needs to know what's under vain Rufus Shinra's hood? NOT ME. I AM TOO BUSY LOOKING AT YOUR HANDS, YOU LYING MANIPULATIVE BASTARD I am so incoherently in love with you again.
karanguni: (BALTHIER beckons)
Been writing a bit of [livejournal.com profile] nasdack lately (very overdue-ly, since the plotline for this, uh, plotline came up months and months and months ago). It's sort of kind of VERY terrifying that the introduction to the new arc - which isn't even on the giant list of Things To Do that Nyx and I have up - is clocking in at, oh, 5000 words.

I'm just going to be here.

Whimpering a lot.

And wondering how long the baseline of 18 major scenes is going to come up to. Multiply each scene by at least 2000 words and and and JAlfjlasjflkajsflkjfla sjfkl.

Hee hee hee. ♥

Anyone have anything in particular they'd like to see in the AU? Just to, y'know. FAN THE FLAMES. *beams*
karanguni: (dick is HIGH)
I solemnly swear to write Batman fic.

I solemnly swear to write Bruce AU sort of fic in which he turns into a pauper or something.

I solemnly swear to make Terry suffer. Again. More. A lot.

I solemnly swear to write Tseng/Veld.

I solemnly, solemnly swear to write Tseng/random guy just mindlessly screwing each others' brains out for [livejournal.com profile] nasdack.

I solemnly swear to write Genesis and Veld fucking shit up. Over something.

I solemnly swear to write Rufus getting bitched out by Reeve and then re-bitching him back. If that's grammatically possible.

I solemnly swear to write a bizarre short AU piece in which everyone is an angel and Lucifer's really angry all the time, like that isn't already status quo.

I solemnly swear that I am solemnly apologising for solemnly and swearishly spamming your flists.

I solemnly swear to find ways to cook good food from ether while I do this tomorrow on my break, because on Friday oh god on Friday ahahah Friday.

I solemnly swear that what I need is a "SCREAMING WITH MY HEAD LOPPED OFF" icon.


SO, WHO'S GOING TO KICK MY ASS TO GET ME TO WRITE WHICH OF THOSE FIRST BEFORE I FREAK OUT AND LOSE MY MIND? *BEAMS*
karanguni: (RUFUS looks)
Trailer for the extended version of Advent Children

I AM SORRY FOR EVER DOUBTING YOU SQUEENIX, I AM SORRY FOR DISSING YOU ABOUT NEVER PUTTING TSENG AND RUFUS AND THE TURKS IN MORE STUFF, I TAKE THAT ALL BACK

JESUS I LOVE YOU. THERE IS TSENG. IN HIGH DEFINITION. OKAY SO HE'S SHOT UP AND DYING AND ELENA IS !!! BUT, YOU KNOW, AFTER ALL THESE YEARS I'LL TAKE ANYTHING YOU GIVE ME PLUS THERE WAS CRISIS CORE. THEN THERE IS RENO. BEING SNARKY. BUT MOST OF ALL, THERE IS RUFUS, BEING A BAD. ASS. MOTHER. FUCKER. ALL OVER AGAIN. ASFJLASKFJAKLF ASKLJFAS LSFLKASJFLKSAJF

I TOLD MYSELF I WOULD NOT BE RIDICULOUSLY EXCITED, BUT NO. I AM RIDICULOUSLY EXCITED. PEOPLE, BE EXCITED WITH ME.

APRRRRIIILLL.

I WILL NOW TAKE DRABBLE PROMPTS IN CELE-FUCKING-BRATION.
karanguni: (RUFUS looks)
Language altered to appear suitably Annoyed (R) and Irascible (TM); this post bears only minimal resemblance to members of the public that may or may not be either living and/or dead. I swear.

28/1: Enumerated List of Bureaucratic Stupidity

  1. To the American Banking system (and its slew of derivatives): I do not see the need or purpose in your sending my father and myself endless streams of correspondence. I do not need additional paperwork regarding anything to make me feel more self-important about the amount of money this family has deposited in your incredibly (pun fully intended, along with your 0.0000012% per month interest rate) and needlessly complex credit system, and my father is considerably jaded as-is and does not want to be informed, by means of (to date) 7 formal letters, 3 brochures and however many bits and pieces of paper marauding as check(que)books and/or advertisements, that you are Fully Aware of where his money is at any and all times. Rather, I'd be obliged if you left me with less drivel, and more information regarding parts of my account that I should've been informed of beforehand, id est: the drawing limit on my debit card, the fact that said debit card cannot be used for online transactions, and the fact that your company - against all standards of common sense and integrity and the ability to read in sequential lines - managed to not only misspell my name but also managed to rearrange my mailing address such that the second line became the first and the first line became invention. Thank god for postal codes.

  2. To the paper pushers with whom I am communicating in order to secure simple, no-frills interviews and tours of your facilities: I plead with you never to reply to emails with the phrase (verbatim:) "[i]n regards to the unformal meetings". I weep for you, your colleagues, and whoever it is that has to read your reports on a regular basis, Mms. "Manager of International Relations".

  3. To the makers of such movies as Troy: mother of Hades, what are you on, people? I could've forgiven Alexander its woes due to the fact that its casting was doomed to begin with, but Troy? Troy? Troy? One would think that Mssr. Pitt, having acted as a vampire and a gambler and a psychopath and a de-aging-re-aging man, would be able to brush his neatly evolved American accent to one corner and do better than scream (verbatim:) "IMMORTALITY!!!!!! TAKE IT!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S YOURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", punctuation not exaggerated. Furthermore, Patroclus. If actual further elaboration is necessary: what of the ardent feminisation, and then the constant implications of "cousin", and then the fact that he - and Mssr. Bloom - served only to make Mssrs. Pitt, Bana and Bean seem muscular and manly in comparison? I decline to comment on the bad theatrical execution, the constant (and annoying) soundtrack, and the fact that the depicted Paris could be broken thus by kicking any particularly adorable puppy somewhere in his vicinity.

  4. To my love, gmail: I trust you. Please cease being slovenly; I have work to do.


*g* Okay, I have to stop, otherwise I think my brain will fall apart. But, yes, today has been an interesting day: for one, I've rediscovered the effects of a cup of coffee. Maybe it's just the fact that I'd spent around 9 years of my life getting only four or six hours of sleep per night and then slogging the rest of the day, but I'd never been affected by coffee until a few months ago. Tragedy! For then I could not drink it ere sleeping. I thought that I'd acquired some strange infection of the lymph. Truefact: after sleeping only 2 hours last night and then braving the roads (thankfully dead: I guess everyone's still hung over) on my bicycle, drinking a flat white did nothing more than restore me to humanity, as opposed to pushing me over the edge into Hyped Up Psycholand. Profit!

Additionally: if you live in the Australasian continent and are on my flist, there's a pretty high chance you're getting something in the mail sometime during the next 4-6 days. *BEAM*

Also: note to self, write creepy random boring piece about how the roads were empty. ish.

Thus is my boring life. *sets to writing Tsengfic at last*

[edit] Ended up updating the downingjones section of [livejournal.com profile] nasdack; essentially: hell.

[edit] I think I'm going to sit here and stare at AIM for a while, so if anyone wants to catch me in my in between-caffeine-dosage lull, go 'head.
karanguni: (RUFUS' clothes)
I DO NOT KNOW WHY THE UNIVERSE LIKES ME SO MUCH RIGHT NOW, BECAUSE TODAY HAS BEEN INCREDIBLE.

TSENG. DRAWN. PAINTED. WITH RUFUS. BY [livejournal.com profile] dnatio_memoriae. IF YOU DO NOT LOSE AT LEAST A FEW BRAINCELLS LOOKING AT THE SHEER HOTNESS OF HIS SUIT AND RUFUS IN A TIE, YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY BLIND AND MUST LOOK CLOSER FROM THE BOTTOM OF YOUR SOUL.

ajflka fjlas fjlkas fljs kfja slkjf as *lick* *lick* *LICK*

Plus, it comes over and on top of other awesome things this week:

  1. Getting a POSTCARD from Columbia. What the fuck, university, you're months away and already you are beautiful.
  2. Getting a letter from Columbia, which - as copy/pasted as I'm sure it is - is still so damned shiny, because, my god, it's like, this adult woman telling me she loves me and that she spoke for me during the admissions panel, and then she signs off in real pen, even managing to almost misspell "New York". I am in so much love it's crazy.
  3. It turns out that the best friend is, actually, alive! Tired sounding, but alive! My heart is more at peace than it has been in a while upon hearing that.
  4. Getting friended by [livejournal.com profile] yuletide people is like getting people-shaped presents in my inbox.
  5. Writing an insane number of fics for [livejournal.com profile] yuletide apparently generates an insane amount of feedback; this is something I can live with.
  6. Hopefully we will be upgrading to better internets soon! Faster surfing. I like muchly.


[edit] Omg. It is five minutes later and I am still looking at the pretty. The shoes. THE SHOES. And Tseng's VEST. And my god the creases, they look so real, I want to touch them. And then make them... creas-ier.

I seriously have been so fucking gifted with amazing friends and crazymadawesome fellow fandom people. Yuletide's an important season for this journal, since (looking back) I realise that my first venture into fic and fandom et al s'dated almost exactly a year ago from now. *g* I'd never have imagined that I'd meet so many insanely talented and beautiful human beings. Thank you, flist, for being who and what you all are. I LOVE YOU, and am so lucky to be blessed to know you.
karanguni: (RUFUS looks)


[livejournal.com profile] nasdack

The joint Shinra-Bunansa empire.

Entirely the fault of [livejournal.com profile] karanguni and [livejournal.com profile] logistika_nyx


It is the beginning of the end. From the original Balthier/Tseng and Tseng/Rufus madness comes an entire au!universe.

Posting begins very, very, very soon. 8D Watch the community for updates, or join the community for, um. Privileged access to things that aren't there yet? 8D 8D 8D 8D 8D
karanguni: (BALTHIER works)
Strange Untitled Stockmarket!AU

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII/Final Fantasy XII/The Stock Exchange
Rating: PG-99
Characters: Balthier/Tseng, Tseng/Rufus
Summary: Tseng's in New York, Balthier's in London, and Rufus is in the sky as the world burns around them. Hedging on futures can be such tricky things.
Functional explanation: It's all [livejournal.com profile] logistika_nyx's fault. A good chunk of this belongs to her, adapted to fit the situation and tense. You can read the original crack-ery here to see precisely which bits. Nyx: I apologise. Profusely. But probably not profusely enough.

Mostly, this is just a trader!AU: in which Tseng and Balthier make money on the gone-to-shit stock markets of our world. And Rufus waggles his eyebrows a bit. Hooray!

2425 words and oh, such a hell I am going to for this. Beware un-beta'd tense shifts!

'Are you an optimist?' Balthier would say into the receiver, when Tseng picked up. )
karanguni: (TSENG smiles)
The beta-filter has seen this (with a few amendments since then): it's the first part of a longer fic that I don't have the time to write as a one shot. It's - just read it, okay? I'll buy you cookies if you do. Or something. 8D

Title: Restorations I
Rating: PG
Characters: Tseng, Rufus, Reeve, Wutai, Midgar, everyone.
Summary: And Shinra said, we are going to save the world, and then said, but let us start with restorations.
Warnings: First part of a multiparter - one or two more chapters planned. Canon AU. "What happens after Midgar". Gen, with slash when you squint. You may have to squint less in other chapters. Rufus Shinra is in the god damned house.

2410 words, and Rufus would like you to know that he is perfectly harmless, thank you.

They sent him into Wutai because it was the predictable thing to do, and these days it paid to do things predictably. )

[and random ad again:] Go forth, ye kind hearted people, I know you want to.
karanguni: (EDWARD)
LOOK LOOK GENFIC.

Title: Merely A Sweeper
Fandom: Terry Pratchett's Discworld (post-Thief of Time)
Rating: G
Summary: There's always someone better than you. Except where there isn't. Lu Tze, and the fact that this time, the apprentice really has outdone the master.
Characters: Lu Tze and the Underaged Abbot

Roughly 1300 words.


There's always someone better than you. Except where there isn't. )

--

Oh, hey, and to cut down on spam, the latest icon batch from the communites as well:

3x Final Fantasy XII (Balthier)
4x Final Fantasy VII (3 Rufus, 1 Reno)

\o/ for productivity! )

Most Popular Tags

Custom Text

A universe of unmapped grief and love
And new master light is beyond
The pleiades and plow and southern stars.

O soaring
Icarus of outworld, burn bright
The traceries of known skymarks,
Slide the highway planets behind
Your clear waxed wings.

Go conquer the everywhere left
Beyond your sad confinement
In a predicted bonehouse,
Witch thrown riddle of flesh
And water.

O soar until nothing
remains but great glittering holes
In the black godspun shirt over your head.

- John Fairfax