karanguni | GUESS WHO'S BACK?

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GUESS WHO'S BACK?

~~tell a friend~~.

I am indeed home, and sweltering for more reasons than one! Work and the weather being the absolute bestest combination of things on earth. But, with the new year dawning and all sorts of interesting prospects on the horizon, I look forward to delving back into writing and stuff with a lot of ink, but mostly with my keyboard. :D

I know I owe a lot of you real-life mail -- I'll ship off the things I have on hand, but if the others take a while, it's because I'm trying to start earning a bit of my own credit; just something to do for my family in this time of ROCKS FALLING AND EVERYONE DYING. :D Not that we're in any trouble, just that my mental guilt is strong.

So, to get back into things:

DRABBLEtime:CORRESPONDENCE

Give me a character from any one of my fandoms (though I will love you if you select the ones I love in my heart *coughTSENGcoughESTRAVENcough*), and a medium of correspondence (email, longhand letter, memo, post it note, writing on wall, &c.), and a prompt. I will zoom something back to you! Multiple requests are welcome; I will write at my descretion. ♥

Postscript: pssst, and if you feel in a generous mood after the meme, you can head over to this fanficcers meme and help tell me what you think of my fic! 8D *SHAMELESS*

Batman Beyond: Terry, longhand letter to Bruce
Left Hand of Darkness: Genly, writing on the wall to Sorve
Final Fantasy VII: Tseng, longhand letter by candlelight
Batman: Jason, leaving writing on the wall

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Terry + longhand letter, please?

And feel free to prompt me back. ♥

Snag me a prompt to go with that? *g*

Ahahaha, I fail at reading comprehension again. Sorry. I can tell I am very scattered tonight.

Hm... My prompt shall be "antique."

Dear -- slag this.

Hey Bruce.

Don't know how many of your kids have written you letters, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one, because it doesn't make sense. We don't keep diaries and we don't keep journals; or, if we do, we don't keep them where anyone'd ever see them. Oracle does, maybe. Used to. Babs is clever with locks and security and three hundred thousand firewalls.

I know Drake doesn't. He told me he found your dia -- your logs, from way back. Scared the shit out of him. Said he never wanted to write any of his own. Didn't want to end up analysing the people he loved, cared about. You? You probably had no problem with that. Other parents watch their children grow and etch marks on the doorframe. You always had to do more than that.

What's that leave us with? Our own heads, which is not where most of us wanna be. So I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one to write one of these to you. How many ripped up letters are there, Bruce? You crazy old goat. You'll never know. You believe too much in the laws of physics, and always forget how your presence warps things, throws us all off of balance.

Warped things.

I owe you. We all owe you.

You owe us too, I guess. Owed us. We never kept count, anyway.

But -- at least we've got a gravestone we can kick at. And at least you died of something, and for something.

- TM

Oh, god, I am now imagining Terry's maybe-metaphorical-maybe-not shoebox under the bed, stuffed full of letters to Bruce. D': *smishes him*

And well, yes. Of course there are hundreds of unsent, unread, unwritten letters between the family. Something has to get it out when there's so much energy put into Not Talking About Things.

You believe too much in the laws of physics, and always forget how your presence warps things, throws us all off of balance.

THAT. YES.

♥ ♥ ♥ Thank you!

:D :D ♥

The Batfamily. FULL OF TRAUMA, it is! \o\

D'aaaaww, Terry, you are such a Bat, especially how you deal with grief. World's gone off kilter, and such regret and guilt for the things never said, and really, with this family, never could be said, and things will never be quite right again.

I agree with the poster above. There is a shoebox. It's so right for him.

You'll never know. You believe too much in the laws of physics, and always forget how your presence warps things, throws us all off of balance

And if that's not one the most gorgeous lines written, I don't know what is.

:DDDDDDDD THANK YOU! ♥

No, not Estraven.

Genly to Sorve. Writing on a wall.

ETA: Oh, and a prompt? Use my icon. *g*

AWWW AWWWWWWWW AWWWWWWWWWWWWW /gleeful noises

The rooms of Estre are cold, even in the inner hearth, where an open fire in anything smaller than a hall is considered a luxury bordering on excess. Genly's allowed, for physiological reasons, to keep the chimney above his smoking all through the year; but in winter it's necessary for him to bundle up under furs and shiver. No one else comes into his rooms in those months; Genly's mind is usually too far away for any conversation, and his room leaves them sweating in the sweltering heat.

Sometimes, Genly wanders outwards, seeking food and companionship when the wind-howling numbs his ears. He returns quickly, sometimes with beer and sometimes with a book from the library.

Sometimes he does not seal the room behind him. The door, left even the slightest bit ajar, invites in the cold of Gethen, and also - sometimes, sometimes - Gethen's sons; Sorve, alone in his daring, pushing through the threshold, a quiet, solid wonderment in his eyes as he listens to Genly read, and watches Genly watching.

It is impossible to describe the level of melting of my heart, omg. <3 <3 <3

HEARTS NEVER MELT IN WINTER.

They just freeze over.

OBVIOUSLY IT IS IN GENLY'S ROOM WHERE IT IS WARM.

and where it can see Sorve and Genly, omg.

!

xmas time; it has come again!

Character: Tseng, I choose you, since I ostensibly like bringing joy to others...okay, and since it also brings joy to my little heart.

Prompt: candle. You can take it literally or in the most abstract way possible (if you wish to take it at all, that is); whatever suits your fancy.

Correspondence via: er, longhand letter! Since it is now an archaic form of communication, it has the charm of the past, which I'm very partial to.

Ooh, this one I have to think about. *ponders* WOULD YOU MIND AN AU? :D :D :D?

NOT AT ALL.

APOLOGIES IF MY PROMPTS ARE MIND-TWISTY, THAT WAS NOT MY INTENTION.

Empery AU (http://karanguni.livejournal.com/32260.html).

He wrote by candlelight because Midgar was electricity pouring light out from filaments through factory-blown glass bulbs. Writing by her light felt bizarre and unviable; a traitor writing with defector's tools. The frictionless pass of his brush over thin paper felt rough whenever he tried. So Tseng kept to fire and wax, old friends and older seals. He writes, but never long enough: he lacks the erudition, having lacked the education, but most of all he lacks the will. Who knows if his mother still lives, or if he wants her to know that he does still.

He seals his papers together with the remnants of his candles, pouring them bubbly and uneven over the edges and hoping, with little fervency, that his thin, thin letters will tear, should anyone try to open them to be read.

OHHH DEAR I WAS GOING TO SLEEP BUT THEN YOU HAD TO GO AHEAD AND POST THIS. THIS IS TOTALLY THE SORT OF THING I HAD IN MIND WHEN I PROMPTED AND YOU HAVE EXCEEDED MY EXPECTATIONS YET AGAIN <3

I love poking at "Tseng and tradition", but I like it even better when you do.

mmm. There is no fail here - only negative fail which amounts to a positive and therefore win.

HAHA, NEGATIVE FAIL. I think that shall become a new tag for me later. *g*

SLEEP WELL!

Dude, present for you:

http://dnatio-memoriae.livejournal.com/17139.html

halfnaked!tseng be there.

Jon and Stephen, notes and/or doodles being passed back and forth on the backs of scripts or napkins etc, prompt: 'Romance vs Being Funny'

'So,' Jon says, conversationally towards the camera. The corners of his lips keep twitching. 'You know, Stephen, when I suggested passing notes between us, I wasn't seriously --'

'I'm always serious, Jon,' Stephen warns from the screen, shaking his head. 'I'm always a serious guy. I take things really seriously.'

'I can see that,' Jon agrees, and stares at the giant four-colour banner (red, white, blue and "the colour PATRIOTISM") in the background of Stephen's studio.

:D Thank you very much, that was fun!

Give me Czeslaw writing a letter, prompt... umm... bittersweet memories? :D

Am just pleased you are back my LJ-Lovely one :D. Dare I challenge you to a Spike and a short letter? (That's probably terrifically evil of me, considering you've only just come back and if there's anyone I could ever possibly trust with Spike, but feel free to decline and give me a Tseng :D)

Love Ya!

I feel kinda awkward because I always lurk and watch your stuff but hardly ever comment. ^^;

Um, Tseng, Post-it note (If your feeling adventurous, in a bright neon color.) with the Prompt 'This is the absolute last time I...'

=D?

OMG HELLO HELLO HELLO

SO GLAD TO SEE YOU BACK SAFE AND UNEXPLODED *GLOMPS*

Ohhhh, your Beyond-fic. It was so lovely and painful and Terry has totally become Batfamily, poor baby. A world without Bruce is not a world without Batman, but it isn't the same, is it?

And since you have totally fed my Terry-craving, I want to give you something:

Jason stands and stares for the longest moment, then grins. He pulls the leather glove off with his teeth and reaches out; his thumb smears the lipstick off the corner of Terry's twisted smile.

"You remind me of what my old friend D'Alicia used to say all the time," he says. A shadow moves at the edge of his vision, and he drags the kid closer. The corset drags and squeaks against his jacket, the lace petticoat and silk skirt whisper across his jeans.

Terry raises an eyebrow. Maybe it's genetic.

"She said, 'Some boys make the best girls.'"

It's not that funny, but Terry laughs and pulls him in. Jason never feels it's a real kiss unless Bruce is watching.

--
Welcome back!!!!! ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ Shalt reread/torrent/borrow Left Hand so I can do you some decent fanart as a prezzie.

(I was watching Moulin Rouge while I wrote this. COINCIDENCE? :D :D :D)

ALSO OH MY GOD JASON

ALSO OH MY GOD TERRY

ALSO OH MY GOD CROSSDRESSING HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHA

ALSO DID YOU GET MY LAST EMAIL?

ALSO DO YOU WANT A DRABBLE?

ALSO YAY UNDEAD PERE IN A NON ZOMBIE WAY

I got the idea while I was watching Scrubs of all things. OMG TURK AND JD YOURLOVEISSOPURE. They were finishing each others' sentences and a wee Jason popped up in my head like an unexpected brain-pimple and said "Boys make the best girls, heh heh heh heh heh" and I had to expel him before MY BRAIN EXPLODED.

I AM SORRY I DIDN'T REPLY TO LAST EMAIL WITH CRAZEE STRESSY DREAMS. You and Timmy, you must commiserate on icky dreamspace.

I AM EXCITED TO DRAW LEFT HAND PICTURES ONLY I DON'T REMEMBER ANY OF IT T_T Am searching internets for an ebook as I type (OMG AUDIOBOOK AVAILABLE!)

Drabble!!! Ooooo!!! Er............Jason, graffiti on wall for Bat of your choice. Thank you thank you!!!

HAHAH I DO NOT WATCH SCRUBS BUT THAT SOUNDS PURE AND BRILLIANT.

HEHEHEH TIMMY AND I EH, THAT IS IS A SCARY COMBINATION IF THERE EVER WAS ONE.

LEFT HAND = ESTRAVEN = THE MOST AWESOME MAN IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE = YOU SHOULD TOTALLY READ THIS SHORT IN ONE OF HER OTHER COLLECTIONS SO THAT YOU CAN CROSS ESTRAVEN OVER TO ONE OF THE FUTURE KINGS OF WINTER OMG.

I know there's a softcopy out there somewhere, linked by one of the Yuletiders who req'd it, but I can't pinpoint it right now; am flailing with a bunch of other things.

HEHEHE SHORTDRABBLE HERE WE GO:

Jason comes and goes. Bruce does not permit him entrance, but Jason's codes and Jason's scans still give him some limited access to the Cave. He would've found a way - a more destructive way - in even if Bruce'd put up all the locks.

Dick thinks, privately, that Bruce doesn't want to do that, in any case. No more than any one of them do, out of the fear that one day they'll be the one on the outside hammering, hammering.

Jason's been back. The -- his -- handprint over the case is sticky and smells of sweet copper, waving at the Robin suit within.

OMG YOU ARE SO COOL THAT I UPLOADED THIS ICON JUST FOR J00.

BATFAMILY YAY!!! Oh, Jason. Oh, boys. I love that the creepy handprint seems actually affectionate, somehow. ROBINS AFRAID OF BEING LOCKED OUT! All our wee Peter Pans oh my God. You got their deepest fears and one of the central issues of their relationships in one line.

Hell if Jesus had the power than so do I to rise up from the dead and take up to the sky
I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry, if music is the victim then so am I

Ok, round 2.

Gandor. Luck Gandor.
Prompt: contemplating death (or, by implication, immortality). To give you some leeway, an alternative: bullet holes
Correspondence: either longhand letter again or writing on the wall ^^

Lucifer. Sending someone a postcard from Perth, Australia, which iirc is where he went post-Sandman and pre-Lucifer.

And this is my prompt. (http://flickr.com/search/?q=perth)

Tseng, medium: cocktail napkin," mixed drinks". :D

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GUESS WHO'S BACK?

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I AM SO OUT OF TERRY PRACTICE

I AM EXERCISING YOUR TERRY SKILLS, HA!

Re: I AM EXERCISING YOUR TERRY SKILLS, HA!

Coming from FF.net after reading Better Dead than Lead

Re: Coming from FF.net after reading Better Dead than Lead

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I FAIL SO HARD.

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PUNDITRY IS FAR GONE FROM ME. So I apologise for the suck!

Re: PUNDITRY IS FAR GONE FROM ME. So I apologise for the suck!

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