(no subject)
Well, back at school, procrastination in full form, hooray. Inject sarcasm here. Feeling kinda neurotic. Being back at school is clearly better than retail, which I will work once a week or so, but it also full of neuroses. See, I went to Windsor, and it was fabulous. I was around Windsoria's badass arts community which loves both crappy indie art, modern art, and social justice. They got teeth, baby. Whacko artists with teeth.
Anyway, was great, totally great. Have very silly pictures of me drunk which I well never post on the internets due to totally ugly nature of drunk pictures.
then I came back to school and am surrounded by people who I just don't click with. Hah, now am happy that it isn't just me, it may be just a totally natural lack of clickage due to completely different hobbies and lifestyle! YES! I'm not socially defunct! But then you still worry about being socially defunct anyway, because you have to keep trying to make it work and having it continue to sort of not work, and you feel annoyed and Othered. Insert neurosis here.
Sigh, anyway, it gives me pleasure to continue to have personal projects that buoy my sense of self and self-worth, like epic lesbian fantasy dramas. Also have been trying to read more literature, like stuff from Oprah's book list. Have since read Divisidero, Shadow Boxer, and am attempting Courtney's Dan Delillo (again) because I put him down months ago and my mother absconded with him. Also have suggestively placed Dave Eggers 'How We Are Hungry' near my toilet in hopes that I will read it when I am brushing my teeth.
Am getting my hair cut again, despite a chorus of 'nooooo' by my close friends and family. Am not sure if they just have no taste, think it looks too weird, too gay, or they just secretly want me to have shining locks of the Xena Warrior Princess proportion. Well, I decided to flip them all the bird and am getting it cut anyway, because it's getting too long and I hate that, plus I am getting tired of them telling me how nice it looks long. Also, keeping in mind that I am completely neurotic, how does no one else but me and other gender norm enthusiasts see how troublesome it is to comment on my hair all the time? Seriously? So many strong coded overtones of GAY STRAIGHT in hair. It's one of the biggest symbols in our culture for gender, class, and whatever have you. And seriously, I am sO SO neurotic about it sometimes. Surrounded by straight people! Surrounded by straight people with no knowledge at all of gender norms! Argh!!!!
Anyway, many thanks to Nuki Nuki for your wodnerful suggestions on Cap/Toil fight. For your approval, I humbly submit, Cap Toil Fight Draft II:
It was none of her business. Cap, ahead of her, bowed her dark head with Altar, nodding. Came toward Toil. Altar walked away, one eye over her shoulder. Carriage loose, but not easy.
None of her business.
Her stitches split. Tellan’s stitches. Cap’s boots in front of her. They stop her like a wall, which is the desired effect. She keeps her disgust off her face, she’s sure of it. Cap’s looking at her, and not with her usual look. Suspicion is now a…casual smile? Toil immediately scowled. “Captain?”
Shifted the water on her back to let Cap know it was heavy. It was. She’d loaded it hard today. Hoped it would help her bad mood.
“I sent a hawk to Bordertown-“
“About me?” Toil interrupted, anger striking inside her like two flint. Lady damned suspicious Captain.
“Neither Fletch Feathers, The Hasgard Mace, Bell’s Tave have ever heard of you.” She waits, the casual stance now clear. Smug that she’s found her out, she seems. Toil would like to wipe it off her face.
“I shipped with smaller groups that that, Mace Cats, Lancers, Polly’s. Closer to the enemy than Bordertown,” Toil lied. They may actually exist, but valkyrie scuttlebutt was about as useful as a round sword.
“Haven’t heard of them,” Cap said thoughtfully. She took a step closer. Toil’s shoulders shivered a little with the effort of keeping up the water. “So if I sent another hawk those merc troupes would have fond memories of you?”
Toil looked down at Cap’s eyes, black ringed in black, impenetrable eyes, gripped her temper hard. “Yes. Now out of the way before this water breaks my back.” Each step wound a coil of her anger tighter in her back. Cap’s business was her own. Cap’s business was her own.
“Hold your step surrogate Toil!” Caop;s voice barked, too loud in her ear, like the valkyire general that she wasn’t and Toil’s temper shouhldered its way out of the gate. THe water exploded on the ground. Cap’s face inches away from hers, black eyes showing white rings. “What do you know about Bordertown, Shepherd?” The word Shepherd came out of her mouth like an insult. “Send one hawk and come for me ire-say? Huh?”
Cap yelled something into her face, her black eyes no longer professionally cool, teeth bared. One hand gripped her sword.
“That’s right you don’t know squat.” Shoved her face down into Cap's, each word a single bellow. Her fingers stabbed the air. “The same attacks! The same defense! You’ll bury half your Shepherds to the next group with a pocket full of Greyland coin!”
“That’s so convenient! You can’t harvest, cook, weave, or follow any kind of order! You left us to die that night while you chased outlaws out of some sick bloodlust!”
“I came back for Tellan you-“
“So you could pretend to be a valkyrie?” Toil jerked and just managed to rein in her fist instead her words snapped, “You’d know a lot about pretending wouldn’t you?”
”What the hell are you driving at?” Cap shoved her face into hers.
“I saw you come out of the Bard's tent this morning... You looked tired.”
Two things happened at once. Cap’s fist snapped against her jaw, Toil missed the block and slugged Cap in the eye. Cap sprawled in the dirt, like the dog she was, hand on her face. Cap was on her feet like a wild wolf, fast. Anger blotted out her thoughts. One image, Cap coming out of the bard’s tent, wiping her mouth. Toil’s hands hung loose at her sides. Cap moved suddenly. Behind her was a familiar figure in a blaze of white.
For an instant Toil didn’t care. Faintest beat of Arena drums in her blood. Then suddenly the hurt on Tellan’s face penetrated.
She glared at Cap and shook her head emphatically, spitting a stream of pink blood.
Toil was pleased to see some shame there just before Cap turned. Only a few feet away from them Tellan stared at the broken waterskins and back and forth between the two. Shepherds all around, some of them with weapons drawn.
She could take them all, she was sure, and then have Cap to herself. Bring her to the bard with a whole new face.
Then Tellan’s gaze fell on her, really fell. Her long face and huge eyes were full of shock, hurt, and worse. Betrayal.
It hit home. She’d just made things worse. She’d just humiliated Tellan in front of most of the village. And Toil had just hit her commanding officer in the face.
Anyway, was great, totally great. Have very silly pictures of me drunk which I well never post on the internets due to totally ugly nature of drunk pictures.
then I came back to school and am surrounded by people who I just don't click with. Hah, now am happy that it isn't just me, it may be just a totally natural lack of clickage due to completely different hobbies and lifestyle! YES! I'm not socially defunct! But then you still worry about being socially defunct anyway, because you have to keep trying to make it work and having it continue to sort of not work, and you feel annoyed and Othered. Insert neurosis here.
Sigh, anyway, it gives me pleasure to continue to have personal projects that buoy my sense of self and self-worth, like epic lesbian fantasy dramas. Also have been trying to read more literature, like stuff from Oprah's book list. Have since read Divisidero, Shadow Boxer, and am attempting Courtney's Dan Delillo (again) because I put him down months ago and my mother absconded with him. Also have suggestively placed Dave Eggers 'How We Are Hungry' near my toilet in hopes that I will read it when I am brushing my teeth.
Am getting my hair cut again, despite a chorus of 'nooooo' by my close friends and family. Am not sure if they just have no taste, think it looks too weird, too gay, or they just secretly want me to have shining locks of the Xena Warrior Princess proportion. Well, I decided to flip them all the bird and am getting it cut anyway, because it's getting too long and I hate that, plus I am getting tired of them telling me how nice it looks long. Also, keeping in mind that I am completely neurotic, how does no one else but me and other gender norm enthusiasts see how troublesome it is to comment on my hair all the time? Seriously? So many strong coded overtones of GAY STRAIGHT in hair. It's one of the biggest symbols in our culture for gender, class, and whatever have you. And seriously, I am sO SO neurotic about it sometimes. Surrounded by straight people! Surrounded by straight people with no knowledge at all of gender norms! Argh!!!!
Anyway, many thanks to Nuki Nuki for your wodnerful suggestions on Cap/Toil fight. For your approval, I humbly submit, Cap Toil Fight Draft II:
It was none of her business. Cap, ahead of her, bowed her dark head with Altar, nodding. Came toward Toil. Altar walked away, one eye over her shoulder. Carriage loose, but not easy.
None of her business.
Her stitches split. Tellan’s stitches. Cap’s boots in front of her. They stop her like a wall, which is the desired effect. She keeps her disgust off her face, she’s sure of it. Cap’s looking at her, and not with her usual look. Suspicion is now a…casual smile? Toil immediately scowled. “Captain?”
Shifted the water on her back to let Cap know it was heavy. It was. She’d loaded it hard today. Hoped it would help her bad mood.
“I sent a hawk to Bordertown-“
“About me?” Toil interrupted, anger striking inside her like two flint. Lady damned suspicious Captain.
“Neither Fletch Feathers, The Hasgard Mace, Bell’s Tave have ever heard of you.” She waits, the casual stance now clear. Smug that she’s found her out, she seems. Toil would like to wipe it off her face.
“I shipped with smaller groups that that, Mace Cats, Lancers, Polly’s. Closer to the enemy than Bordertown,” Toil lied. They may actually exist, but valkyrie scuttlebutt was about as useful as a round sword.
“Haven’t heard of them,” Cap said thoughtfully. She took a step closer. Toil’s shoulders shivered a little with the effort of keeping up the water. “So if I sent another hawk those merc troupes would have fond memories of you?”
Toil looked down at Cap’s eyes, black ringed in black, impenetrable eyes, gripped her temper hard. “Yes. Now out of the way before this water breaks my back.” Each step wound a coil of her anger tighter in her back. Cap’s business was her own. Cap’s business was her own.
“Hold your step surrogate Toil!” Caop;s voice barked, too loud in her ear, like the valkyire general that she wasn’t and Toil’s temper shouhldered its way out of the gate. THe water exploded on the ground. Cap’s face inches away from hers, black eyes showing white rings. “What do you know about Bordertown, Shepherd?” The word Shepherd came out of her mouth like an insult. “Send one hawk and come for me ire-say? Huh?”
Cap yelled something into her face, her black eyes no longer professionally cool, teeth bared. One hand gripped her sword.
“That’s right you don’t know squat.” Shoved her face down into Cap's, each word a single bellow. Her fingers stabbed the air. “The same attacks! The same defense! You’ll bury half your Shepherds to the next group with a pocket full of Greyland coin!”
“That’s so convenient! You can’t harvest, cook, weave, or follow any kind of order! You left us to die that night while you chased outlaws out of some sick bloodlust!”
“I came back for Tellan you-“
“So you could pretend to be a valkyrie?” Toil jerked and just managed to rein in her fist instead her words snapped, “You’d know a lot about pretending wouldn’t you?”
”What the hell are you driving at?” Cap shoved her face into hers.
“I saw you come out of the Bard's tent this morning... You looked tired.”
Two things happened at once. Cap’s fist snapped against her jaw, Toil missed the block and slugged Cap in the eye. Cap sprawled in the dirt, like the dog she was, hand on her face. Cap was on her feet like a wild wolf, fast. Anger blotted out her thoughts. One image, Cap coming out of the bard’s tent, wiping her mouth. Toil’s hands hung loose at her sides. Cap moved suddenly. Behind her was a familiar figure in a blaze of white.
For an instant Toil didn’t care. Faintest beat of Arena drums in her blood. Then suddenly the hurt on Tellan’s face penetrated.
She glared at Cap and shook her head emphatically, spitting a stream of pink blood.
Toil was pleased to see some shame there just before Cap turned. Only a few feet away from them Tellan stared at the broken waterskins and back and forth between the two. Shepherds all around, some of them with weapons drawn.
She could take them all, she was sure, and then have Cap to herself. Bring her to the bard with a whole new face.
Then Tellan’s gaze fell on her, really fell. Her long face and huge eyes were full of shock, hurt, and worse. Betrayal.
It hit home. She’d just made things worse. She’d just humiliated Tellan in front of most of the village. And Toil had just hit her commanding officer in the face.