I have no idea if this is going to post correctly, but I guess we'll find out.
I have officially ruined Power Rangers S.P.D. for myself.
Coincidentally, I've also discovered that I am a female Bridge after the way this deduction came about, because it was a very long, drawn out process that made random leaps in logic and only made sense to me. Go me.
The end result?
Bridge is Rocky and Adam's love child. Aisha is his 'biological' mother, who carried the child for them. And no, this isn't in a threesome way. But after coming to that conclusion, Bridge suddenly made a whole lot more sense to me.
I've also now decided that Syd is Ryan Mitchell's daughter, in addition the fact that I'd already warped Sky's family tree to the point of no return a long time ago (It now involves a crossover with Stargate SG-1). Then to round out this little gem of a plot bunny, I decided that Jack is the son of T.J. Johnson, and Z is Justin Stewart's kid with a necklace given to her by the former Lord Zedd himself (Not quite clear yet on the reasoning behind that one.). Oh, and Sam came from Chip; it's all in the hair.
It all makes sense, I swear. You just have to ... be me.
Although I will most likely write a fic about this someday, once I finish with bi - shmexual.
Because shmexual rules.
Oh, and I made a promise to Challon86 that I would vent my LiveJournal frustration for her to read. So I did.
My first introduction to LiveJournal, in an attempt to branch out further into the PR community, as channeled through the eyes of Eric Myers. All questions/rants I made poor Challon86 suffer through. An in retaliation, she made me promise to post this as my first journal entry. Of course, this is also why it randomly bounces back and forth between Ranting Eric and gratuitous fluffy slash. -Shrugs- I don't think I particularly care at this point in time.
So, yeah ... Challon, this is for you and anyone else who's ever suffered through trying to understand LiveJournal.
Oh, and incidentally, I do have a cat that can type, but she lives with my parents. ^_~
Technologically Impaired
Wes came home to find a smoking keyboard, a missing mouse, and a broken window through which, upon further investigation, he found the monitor resting a few feet away from the house.
" ... Eric? Are you okay?" he called, subtly shifting into a ready stance.
"User friendly my friggin' ass. They pull this sh - stuff - just to make you feel like a five - year old again no matter how smart you are. Don't use the advanced option unless you're a programmer or graphic designer - well, what if I was, dang it?! What if I *do* know what I'm doing, and your stupid interface is the problem? How do you know it's user error? Maybe it's not, huh? Ever think about that?!"
Tentatively, Wes peeked around the kitchen doorway. "Eric? Honey?"
Eric's head snapped up, and he glared at him over his coffee. "What?" he growled.
There was no right way to answer this question; after a year of prep school together, another year as friends after becoming Rangers, and the four years they'd been dating (Wow, had it been that long already?), he knew that no matter what he said, Eric would not take it well. Eric was angry, which meant he was either frustrated or embarrassed, which meant he was waiting for the first thing he could get his hands on to tear it to shreds. Wes' highly developed sense of self - preservation demanded that he flee for the nearest international border, but as always, he chose Option B instead.
Swiftly crossing the room, he leaned down over Eric's chair and kissed him breathless before he could manage to get a word in edgewise.
He refused to pull away until the body before him eventually relaxed, and the lips beneath his gently started to tease back. When he did pull away, he miscalculated how far forward he'd been leaning and landed in Eric's lap. He blinked up at him, then flashed a bright grin. "Hi!"
Eric snorted and looked away, trying and failing to fight back a smile. "You're a dork, you know that?"
"Uh huh," Wes agreed distractedly, suddenly far more interested in playing with the buttons on his boyfriend's shirt.
Eric slapped at his hands gently, tugging Wes up so that he was actually sitting in Eric's lap rather than sprawled across it. "Knock that off," he grumbled, but the anger was already gone from his voice.
Wes smiled, hunching down a bit so he could rest his chin on Eric's head. It was an awkward position, but he didn't care. It meant he was warm, Eric was snug - sorry - *holding* him, and he was situated in such a way that while he could easily wrap his arms around Eric to restrain him, there wasn't much Eric could do to attack.
The perfect place to be for what he was about to do.
"So, question... Why is the monitor outside?"
Eric's eyes darkened, and he braced himself for the onslaught.
"You and your damn 'Oh, you should try this journal site, it's great. You can check up on the Guardians and make new friends, and it's so much better for posting your information than the website you've been using that's worked for *years*. You'll love it, trust me," Eric mimicked, once again thoroughly angry and irritated.
"So ... you don't like it?"
"The whole damn website doesn't make any fucking sense from the moment you sign up for an account! What the fuck kind of question is 'prove you're human'? What, you think I've got a cat that knows how to type using my computer? Why do I have a 'Writer's Block' suggestion when I sign in? I didn't ask for that. And why the hell is it asking what I'd do if I had one day left to live? Morbid, much? And why is there a goat in the bottom right corner of my sign in page?!"
"Frank?"
"Whatever! Why the fuck would I need some random rollover animation of a goat, anyway? And then after all that, what the hell is a community and why do I care? And if I suddenly decided I wanted to join one for some reason, how am I supposed to do it? Do you have to be invited into it, or what?
"Why can't they label those stupid icons at the top of the page, so you know what the hell they're supposed to do? How am I supposed to find the sites I used to browse before, and can I get like an update notice or something? How would I do that, anyway? And what's up with this 'Friend' business?
"And then, *then* - ! I tried to upload an icon I've used on another site, but it keeps trying to tell me it's not a usable image. What the fuck is wrong with it? It worked before. And yeah, the whole 'Post an Entry' thing? Not exactly self - explanatory. Where the hell is the FAQ? Why doesn't this stupid site come with a walk - through?
"And how the *hell* do you navigate the damn site?! I just wanna read previous chapters to this story I liked, and see if I can find more. Why is that so complicated?!"
Wes listened quietly to his entire rant, looking thoughtful as he finally stopped for breath. "Why not a dog?"
Eric looked up slowly, eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Why would you automatically assume a cat was using your computer, and not a dog?"
"Because cats are evil enough to actually do it, and the dogs' damn paws are too big," Eric growled. "Why the hell do you care?"
Wes shrugged, trying to look as innocent as possible. "I was just curious."
Eric threw his hands up in the air, glowering.
"Hey ... " Wes soothed, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. "Maybe it's just because you're a newbie, and you're not used to the site yet. Don't quit now. Once you get the hand of it, it'll be fine. You'll see."
He grumbled unintelligibly, but allowed himself to be hugged and soothed.
Quite a bit of time went by before Eric was calm enough for Wes to ask his other question. "So, uh ... What happened to the keyboard and mouse?"
"Knocked my drink over on the keyboard and thew the mouse across the house. Not really sure where."
Wes paused. "Don't you mean threw it across the room?"
"No. I don't."
" ... Ah."