Jan. 7th, 2018

karanguni: (TSENG smiles)
Dear Chocolatier!

I am unfortunately quite braindead after Yuletide, but rest assured that I am excited for anything you wish to dream up! My prompts are entirely just suggestions - go for whatever floats your boat. The more bizarre the better! I've sort of put myself in the bizarre boat.

The Culture, The Sparrow, Hikaru no Go, FFVII/FFXII, FFVII/Vorkosigan Saga, FFVII/The Culture )
karanguni: (Default)
I did a whole bunch of cleaning this weekend, but other than that laid low because I feel a little bit laid low by the intensity of, ah, 2018 as it has begun. I certainly hope it doesn't mean to carry on in the same fashion...

Things:

* I flailed my way through my Chocolate Box signup and letter. Too out of it to be more verbose this weekend, but I'm going to get some edits in before assignments go out. FFVII in a fic challenge? What!
* I'm reading the Bedlam Stacks and quite enjoying it. Possibly because I enjoy anything related to ruthless bastards and the East India Company a bit too much for someone who comes from an ex-British colony. Someone, EIC history RPF with me!
* I'm trying to get more in practice with Japanese again this year. [personal profile] yhlee, if you're still interested, I think I'm going to start pumping out Japanese lessons or at least meta again. Including a post on translating classics, I hope.
* I need to get my ass back to the gym, stat.

Snowflake 7: In your own space, create a love meme for yourself. Let people tell you how amazing and awesome and loveable you really are.

Er, go ahead! Or just take this as an opportunity to come say hi. Or tell me if there are things you'd like me to write or blather on about in our shared fandoms/interests. Or just talk!

 

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