Various things...
We were so overcast last night that I missed the lunar eclipse. I don't know how much of it I would have stayed up for anyway, but when I went out to check the visibility around midnight or one, I couldn't see a thing.
I've gotten pretty caught up in Kemono no Souja Erin (currently on ep 13) and am still very much enjoying it. I also remembered, probably part of what bumped it up to the top of the queue was awhile back randomly running into this: a fanvid trailer for the series which manages to make it look completely awesome. (The creator had initially done a parody of setting the soundtrack of Eragon's trailer to Erin footage; I haven't read or seen Eragon, but watching the two vids together makes it look much more shallow and trite, whether it really is or whether the pros have a shallow and trite idea of what appeals to people in a trailer---I suspect the latter is true in any case.)
I also went off (and am not yet done) on mangafox.com reading old-school Shoujo, trying to look up artists from the Year 24 Group and such. I'd never actually read Riyoko Ikeda before, but with this read Oniisama E and Claudine; after finding Andromeda Stories at the library awhile back, there was a bit more Keiko Takemiya, and I found some pretty amazing Hagio Moto short pieces. Like my first time reading Astro Boy or when I found Andromeda Stories, it was really fascinating to get this feeling like, oh, all this more recent stuff I've enjoyed, now I can see what's underneath that it's resting on---especially with Ikeda (although Oniisama E was downright over the top sometimes---once I broke myself up badly by literalizing one of those depictions of emotion into a MST comment: "She didn't even look at me once!" "That strips my clothes off and shatters my pelvis!"). However, since this also got me into some vintage shonen/shoujo-ai, it was also like DAMMIT MANGA LESBIANS, STOP DYING! Now I really feel bad about Mirrorverse Takiko... -_-;;
Speaking of the Mirrorverse, I haven't posted more draft of it in like a week now. I have only been inching along (maybe get through the holidays and then try to shape up), but it's enough to post, even if it is in the middle of things, so here goes:
“The Universe of the Four Gods” still lay closed on the bed, mere inches from Hiromasa’s face and even closer to his hand, but he continued in his uneasy sleep as words continued to appear deep inside its pages.
When Ashitare saw the destruction in the forest, and his fellow Sei of Seiryuu Suboshi thrown above the treetops, he ran to protect the Seiryuu no Miko, but he found the woods she had fled to empty, and her scent mingled with that of Miboshi.
Together, they had already gone. With a touch of Miboshi’s hand, the Seiryuu no Miko floated with him above the earth, and in this way they sped over the rocky ground with no sound of footsteps. . . .
*******
Yui’s illusions that the downhill slope would be easier traveling were dashed soon after they were over the crest. Trying to move downward slowly among the uneven crags, one of her knees nearly insensible with pain from the earlier battering, the threat of falling now exerted a dizzying pull.
Tamahome, still in the lead, came to a lip, and Yui heard the gravel scraping of him sliding down, but when a few more steps revealed the prospect to her, it was an almost-sheer ten-foot drop, and she involuntarily recoiled from it. If she tried sliding down, she was sure she would tumble, and she saw no way to climb...
In the waiting pocket of a gully below, Tamahome saw her hesitation and held out his arms. “Just jump.”
“Are... Are you sure?”
“Yeah; it’ll be fine.”
“I can lower you down,” Hotohori offered behind her.
“No, it’s all right,” she said. She wouldn’t let herself break the rule or trouble them more just out of fear, and looking down at Tamahome, there was something in his face she wanted to trust. She positioned her feet for the spring, closed her eyes, took two deep breaths, and leapt forward.
The terror of the empty air barely had time to seize her before she felt Tamahome catch her, roll under her weight enough to gently take up the impact, and straighten up again to set her on her feet. When she opened her eyes, like magic his face was inches above hers instead of yards below.
A sudden sensation fluttered in her chest, and she pulled away from him nervously---it was that old pang she had thought long gone, crying why did she ever have to choose between the two of them. Maybe Taiitsukun hadn’t been so unreasonable to warn her against touching men...
Hotohori slid down after them but tripped at the bottom, and Tamahome had to grab him to keep him from falling. While far more capable than Yui, he hadn’t managed the climb nearly as well as Tamahome, and was by now uncharacteristically bedraggled. Yui wished that she could hold him more than ever, as a reminder to herself as well as to balm his visibly-wounded pride.
“I don’t do this as well as you do,” he admitted.
“Ah, you’ll clean up nice,” Tamahome told him. “We’re over halfway. The others must be into it by now...”
“I just hope they’re all right,” Yui said.
As she began picking her way down the gully, Tamahome dodged lightly around her and set out in the lead again, but quickly stopped short. Yui and Hotohori froze behind him; in the sudden stillness, footsteps could be heard on the rocks coming up toward them.
Yui held her breath as the sound came close. It sounded like only one person; was it one of the Seiryuu Seishi? Was it one of the others---and if so, with what kind of news? Whoever it was, why would they be coming alone?
The figure tumbled into view around the crags. With her head down, it was possible for a moment to think that those two brown buns might be someone else’s, but when the girl looked up at them, there was no denying it.
“Miaka!” Yui cried.
For a moment the entire scene was frozen in the confused shock. To Yui it was absurd; as absurd as seeing Miaka suddenly appear in the guardians’ cave. Hotohori seized the handle of his sword where it hung on Yui’s back; they were caught, and he braced himself for an attack.
Tamahome stiffened as the sight of her shot through him, and he staggered back. “Yui, get away!” One word from Miaka... Hotohori was in no condition to fight...
Miaka froze, too, her eyes locked on Tamahome’s, her hand rising unconsciously to her mouth. As painful as it would have been, she had predicted and in some small way prepared for him to look at her with anger or hatred. She was not the least bit prepared to see Tamahome---strong, brave Tamahome---look at her with absolute, helpless terror.
She struggled even to speak. “Ta... Tama---”
“NO!!!” He cut her off with a scream. It couldn’t be like this. He couldn’t just be helpless! Eyes squeezed shut, he reached out desperately for anything, any power that could stop the unthinkable that he saw irresistibly bearing down on him. Give me something---!
Time seemed almost to stop; barely an instant could be passing, and yet in the blazing darkness of that stricken, frozen moment, he saw it so slowly---the gift from Taiitsukun, the bubble floating down into his hands, silent and gentle as a snowflake. It swirled. It burst.
Red light exploded from Tamahome’s body---not only light, but a lashing vortex of energy. Even Yui and Hotohori were thrown back against the rocks by it as Miaka screamed.
*******
Hiro felt something on his face, and moved, barely bobbing up from under the surface of sleep, to push it away with his hand. His knuckles brushed over something strange, and he groped at it and forced his eyes open. He had it in his hands before he was able to see it: a red book with a pasted label.
He had to search for his glasses; they turned up, oddly, on his dresser, and he remembered that he had put them down haphazardly to pull his shirt over his head, and had been tempted to lie down before putting them back on.
Now capable of reading, he sat down on the bed with the book in his lap. “The Universe of the Four Gods”... The surreal events of the previous evening and night, only hazily remembered, were tainted with the miasma of the previous hours’ even more surreal dreams, only hazily forgotten. Any attempt to think about the situation was as confusing as a fever; he barely even realized that Keisuke must have left, let alone wondering where he had gone or what he was doing now or what he thought. The accessible reality was the simplest facts, the red rectangular weight in his hands. He still had the book. Yui was inside it. He had to read it.
‡ original post at Dreamwidth ‡
I've gotten pretty caught up in Kemono no Souja Erin (currently on ep 13) and am still very much enjoying it. I also remembered, probably part of what bumped it up to the top of the queue was awhile back randomly running into this: a fanvid trailer for the series which manages to make it look completely awesome. (The creator had initially done a parody of setting the soundtrack of Eragon's trailer to Erin footage; I haven't read or seen Eragon, but watching the two vids together makes it look much more shallow and trite, whether it really is or whether the pros have a shallow and trite idea of what appeals to people in a trailer---I suspect the latter is true in any case.)
I also went off (and am not yet done) on mangafox.com reading old-school Shoujo, trying to look up artists from the Year 24 Group and such. I'd never actually read Riyoko Ikeda before, but with this read Oniisama E and Claudine; after finding Andromeda Stories at the library awhile back, there was a bit more Keiko Takemiya, and I found some pretty amazing Hagio Moto short pieces. Like my first time reading Astro Boy or when I found Andromeda Stories, it was really fascinating to get this feeling like, oh, all this more recent stuff I've enjoyed, now I can see what's underneath that it's resting on---especially with Ikeda (although Oniisama E was downright over the top sometimes---once I broke myself up badly by literalizing one of those depictions of emotion into a MST comment: "She didn't even look at me once!" "That strips my clothes off and shatters my pelvis!"). However, since this also got me into some vintage shonen/shoujo-ai, it was also like DAMMIT MANGA LESBIANS, STOP DYING! Now I really feel bad about Mirrorverse Takiko... -_-;;
Speaking of the Mirrorverse, I haven't posted more draft of it in like a week now. I have only been inching along (maybe get through the holidays and then try to shape up), but it's enough to post, even if it is in the middle of things, so here goes:
“The Universe of the Four Gods” still lay closed on the bed, mere inches from Hiromasa’s face and even closer to his hand, but he continued in his uneasy sleep as words continued to appear deep inside its pages.
When Ashitare saw the destruction in the forest, and his fellow Sei of Seiryuu Suboshi thrown above the treetops, he ran to protect the Seiryuu no Miko, but he found the woods she had fled to empty, and her scent mingled with that of Miboshi.
Together, they had already gone. With a touch of Miboshi’s hand, the Seiryuu no Miko floated with him above the earth, and in this way they sped over the rocky ground with no sound of footsteps. . . .
*******
Yui’s illusions that the downhill slope would be easier traveling were dashed soon after they were over the crest. Trying to move downward slowly among the uneven crags, one of her knees nearly insensible with pain from the earlier battering, the threat of falling now exerted a dizzying pull.
Tamahome, still in the lead, came to a lip, and Yui heard the gravel scraping of him sliding down, but when a few more steps revealed the prospect to her, it was an almost-sheer ten-foot drop, and she involuntarily recoiled from it. If she tried sliding down, she was sure she would tumble, and she saw no way to climb...
In the waiting pocket of a gully below, Tamahome saw her hesitation and held out his arms. “Just jump.”
“Are... Are you sure?”
“Yeah; it’ll be fine.”
“I can lower you down,” Hotohori offered behind her.
“No, it’s all right,” she said. She wouldn’t let herself break the rule or trouble them more just out of fear, and looking down at Tamahome, there was something in his face she wanted to trust. She positioned her feet for the spring, closed her eyes, took two deep breaths, and leapt forward.
The terror of the empty air barely had time to seize her before she felt Tamahome catch her, roll under her weight enough to gently take up the impact, and straighten up again to set her on her feet. When she opened her eyes, like magic his face was inches above hers instead of yards below.
A sudden sensation fluttered in her chest, and she pulled away from him nervously---it was that old pang she had thought long gone, crying why did she ever have to choose between the two of them. Maybe Taiitsukun hadn’t been so unreasonable to warn her against touching men...
Hotohori slid down after them but tripped at the bottom, and Tamahome had to grab him to keep him from falling. While far more capable than Yui, he hadn’t managed the climb nearly as well as Tamahome, and was by now uncharacteristically bedraggled. Yui wished that she could hold him more than ever, as a reminder to herself as well as to balm his visibly-wounded pride.
“I don’t do this as well as you do,” he admitted.
“Ah, you’ll clean up nice,” Tamahome told him. “We’re over halfway. The others must be into it by now...”
“I just hope they’re all right,” Yui said.
As she began picking her way down the gully, Tamahome dodged lightly around her and set out in the lead again, but quickly stopped short. Yui and Hotohori froze behind him; in the sudden stillness, footsteps could be heard on the rocks coming up toward them.
Yui held her breath as the sound came close. It sounded like only one person; was it one of the Seiryuu Seishi? Was it one of the others---and if so, with what kind of news? Whoever it was, why would they be coming alone?
The figure tumbled into view around the crags. With her head down, it was possible for a moment to think that those two brown buns might be someone else’s, but when the girl looked up at them, there was no denying it.
“Miaka!” Yui cried.
For a moment the entire scene was frozen in the confused shock. To Yui it was absurd; as absurd as seeing Miaka suddenly appear in the guardians’ cave. Hotohori seized the handle of his sword where it hung on Yui’s back; they were caught, and he braced himself for an attack.
Tamahome stiffened as the sight of her shot through him, and he staggered back. “Yui, get away!” One word from Miaka... Hotohori was in no condition to fight...
Miaka froze, too, her eyes locked on Tamahome’s, her hand rising unconsciously to her mouth. As painful as it would have been, she had predicted and in some small way prepared for him to look at her with anger or hatred. She was not the least bit prepared to see Tamahome---strong, brave Tamahome---look at her with absolute, helpless terror.
She struggled even to speak. “Ta... Tama---”
“NO!!!” He cut her off with a scream. It couldn’t be like this. He couldn’t just be helpless! Eyes squeezed shut, he reached out desperately for anything, any power that could stop the unthinkable that he saw irresistibly bearing down on him. Give me something---!
Time seemed almost to stop; barely an instant could be passing, and yet in the blazing darkness of that stricken, frozen moment, he saw it so slowly---the gift from Taiitsukun, the bubble floating down into his hands, silent and gentle as a snowflake. It swirled. It burst.
Red light exploded from Tamahome’s body---not only light, but a lashing vortex of energy. Even Yui and Hotohori were thrown back against the rocks by it as Miaka screamed.
*******
Hiro felt something on his face, and moved, barely bobbing up from under the surface of sleep, to push it away with his hand. His knuckles brushed over something strange, and he groped at it and forced his eyes open. He had it in his hands before he was able to see it: a red book with a pasted label.
He had to search for his glasses; they turned up, oddly, on his dresser, and he remembered that he had put them down haphazardly to pull his shirt over his head, and had been tempted to lie down before putting them back on.
Now capable of reading, he sat down on the bed with the book in his lap. “The Universe of the Four Gods”... The surreal events of the previous evening and night, only hazily remembered, were tainted with the miasma of the previous hours’ even more surreal dreams, only hazily forgotten. Any attempt to think about the situation was as confusing as a fever; he barely even realized that Keisuke must have left, let alone wondering where he had gone or what he was doing now or what he thought. The accessible reality was the simplest facts, the red rectangular weight in his hands. He still had the book. Yui was inside it. He had to read it.
‡ original post at Dreamwidth ‡