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alecoo kiaya91
So, after months of dancing with the crazy, I have embraced it fully. Bought myself a job. I just closed on a motel in Oregon- rustic old school affair right near Crater Lake.
Now the insanity really begins.

(It's just the sort of place boyz would stay, too;)
Oddly...More than 50 percent of the friends I have mentioned it to immediately asked if it was haunted (and one insisted that was implied in asking what's wrong with it? lol)
Maybe not so odd. I can't help but wonder if that implies more about me or about my friends?

Whatever.
Anybody want a job far from the madding crowd?

Tradition

AB swirl
Finally posted over at Jampony for this year's challenge. YAY!
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just some fun for a friend!

forest
we all knew cats love fish, but who knew they love cats too?



Dumpsters 1 Clown Cars O

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there goes the neighborhood..

forest
No fireworks on the 4th, because all the firetrucks are busy, and there's not enough firefighters to fight the fires we already got. ;( Luckily, people have been responsible (or just scared), so I heard no illicit whizzbangs last night!
(Somewhere in Centennial,though, there's a truckload of homemade and storebought fireworks, just waiting for a better time. let it be so)

sheep mountain wpr

Sheep Mountain's about 20 miles away; can smell the smoke, see it floating through the streets and raining ash. Friends have evacuated, but it's now 55% contained!


fox creek rd uwx

Road to Centennial

sheep mountain karberg

The Squirrel Creek Fire spread rapidly Monday, and topped the crest of Sheep Mountain
The line of light below the fire is Harmony; my favorite place to sub because the kids are amazing, fun, and smart, and where my Dad and I ate the best steaks ever after graduation.

DO WANT!

alecoo kiaya91
moon


I've been watching and posting too many horrid images of wildfires recently
here's something better to contemplate;)

i think Bing's a fangirl

alecoo kiaya91
Why, you ask? One of my students posted this in arabic on facebook, so I hit translate;

"I look forward to every Friday that voice which could tarnish the world when whoops Gabriel between Earth and heaven "appeared ...
(Translated by Bing)

so mysteriously apropos..I'm not even going to wonder what she really said.

/\„,„/\
( =';'= )
/*♡♡*\
(.|.|..|.|.)=>

Potsticker sauce

forest
Findyourwords said, "Happy Chinese New Year! It's the year of the dragon. This calls for potstickers. :D"
It occurs to me that's very true. :D And, it occurs to me I've never written down my recipe for the best potsticker sauce ever, whether you're calling them gyoza, mandu, or potstickers.
 So, without further ado...

Mince 1 medium-large clove of garlic and a knob of ginger about the size of your thumbnail very fine.
Mix in soy sauce and rice vinegar in a 3:1 ratio, to make  about 1/4 cup, mashing a little as you go. Let stand at least an hour before you portion it out. Or not, but it's best when you do.
 Float a dash of toasted sesame oil on top of each dipping bowl. (Some people like the chili sesame oil, but imo, that's overkill. You have plenty of flavors already, and the chili tends to obscure them.)
Optional; top with a few morsels of green onion or garlic chives sliced paper thin for extra color.

Make your potstickers. (an interesting variation is to stir up to a tablespoon of flour into the water you pour in to steam them, which makes a nice crust when the dumplings are tightly packed in the pan).
Serve on a separate plate, with a dish of sauce for each person.

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bingo

forest
Parker
The Queen's Gambit Job
The Maltese Falcon Job
The Twelve Step Job
Jimmy Ford
The Carnival Job
The San Lorenzo Job
The Mark
Jimmy Papadokalus
The Fairy Godparents Job
Retrieval Specialist
The Zanzibar Marketplace Job
WILD CARD
The Future Job
Mikel Dayan
McRory's Bar
Cora McRory
The Tap Out Job
Actress
The Bottle Job
Thief
The Order 23 Job
Alec Hardison
Sophie Devereaux
The Snow Job

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Sep. 23rd, 2011

forest
<p align="center"><img src="http://www.flarn.com/~warlock/tarot/dragon/18.jpg"></p>
<h2 align="center"><font face="Verdana"><b>You are The Moon</b></font></h2>
<p align="center"><font face="Verdana">Hope, expectation, Bright promises.</font></p>
<p align="center"><font face="Verdana">The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.</font></p>
<p align="center"><font face="Verdana">The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you&nbsp;have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.</font></p>
<p align="center"><font size="2" face="Verdana"><b>What Tarot Card are You?</b><br><a href="http://www.flarn.com/~warlock/tarot" target="_blank">Take the Test to Find Out.</a></font></p>

meme

forest
To Meme or not to Meme...

Comment to this entry and I'll give you a letter.
List ten things, people, places, beings, thoughts, feelings, that you love that begin with that letter and then post that list on your journal.

relativity1953 gave me P, so
Personally popular things beginning with PCollapse )

11. Postscripts. Because I always have one more thing to say. (I didn't even get to Procrastination!)

Quiet

hood
Mature Rape/Non-Con, Underage
1212 words
Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Characters: Konstantin Bothari, OCs
for; 2011 Bujold Fest

Quiet

Summary:
Bothari once told Cordelia he was a bastard, literally. Sometimes he goes home. He took Kou there once to get laid, and it all went south. The quote from Impsec's report went something like, “Apparently he has a favorite girl in the Caravanserai. He likes her because she never makes any noise. I don’t really want to think about that.”
Notes:
For jetta_e_rus.
In response to the prompt :
Bothari at his age of thirteen suffers but lets nobody to break him. According to the novels, realistic, hard, frankly. No any miraculous escape.
Canon violence, trauma, language and non-graphic child abuse. I like Bothari, he's such a complex character, so thanks for the prompt! I'm sorry this is short, just stream of conciousness, quick and unbeta'd, but I hope it's close to what you wanted!

Tricks who came in quietly through the side door always had money and a sneer. They gave the boss fake names, but their fake names always started with Vor something because they wanted respect. So they acted like Vor assholes, when even a stupid kid like Konstantin Bothari could tell the nearest they’d ever get to a real Vor was when they got the chance to lick Vor boots.
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forest

What is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you?

First question listed was submitted by lady_anna. (Follow-up questions, if any, may have been added by LiveJournal.)

View 886 Answers

Two actually come to mind, but the most important might be
When I was a teenager with a ridiculous lot of problems, my mom gave me an art card with a quote from Camus;
"In the midst of winter, I found, within me, an endless summer."
I was confused, and a little resentful, so I asked her if she thought I should try to be like that and she said
No, she'd never understood it, but I always had been, she'd just seen the card and it seemed to her like Camus was describing me.

I'll never give that up.

Aug. 12th, 2011

hood
Title; Self-defense by Eliot Spencer
Characters; Team
Category; Gen
Disclaimer; yes.

Nate drinks. He lets shit come at him full speed, knowing when it hits that soft fog the booze builds between him and everything else it’ll slow down enough he’ll have plenty of time to look it over and figure out how to spin it, because he’s Nathan Fucking Ford. And if the shit gets through, well, that’s manageable, too. One more drink and Nathan Ford won’t care how the world spins. He keeps the shit under control that way, and when the shit hits the fan Nate's the only one smiling about it, because somehow he always staggers away smelling like a rose.

Sophie says when life hands Sophie Devereux lemons, she just loosens another button on her shirt and convinces life to buy her a shandy instead. Sophie’s a liar. And you believe her , because Sophie’s never more convincing than when she’s lying. Sophie doesn’t defend herself because she has nothing to defend. Sophie doesn’t exist,and that makes her strong.
When the shit comes down, she was never there, never saw shit, didn’t smell it, step in it or take it along. Sophie wriggles out of that skin and leaves it behind, while some other Sophie walks away unstained.
Sophie doesn’t give a damn about the shit she leaves behind. Sophie Devereaux doesn’t have a damn to give, she doesn’t even have a name, just a lot of shiny old stuff she keeps hidden away and a shiny new self to step out in every day.


Parker well,she’s never all there even when she is, because Parker's a sneak and she hides. Dropping through the ceiling, sleeping in the vents, walking between the walls. She’s a face in the window, a shadow on the wall, a noise on the roof. You’ve never really seen Parker, just her big laugh and the loud comments that never quite fit, long fingers poking at all the wrong places, curling up comfortable where nobody normal would ever want to be. She’ll cartwheel through a window and disappear with everything you have and you’ll never even see her, never know she touched you. Parker’s the ghost you wouldn’t tell your best friend about, (if you had one) because she's never all there and most people don't know when she’s there at all.
When the shit hits the fan she flies away, there’s not enough of her there to hit anyway.

Hardison, Hardison ought to be dead a hundred times over. Loud, graceless, with an ego the size of his flatscreen. For no reason you can see. No sense of self-preservation, no sense at all. If annoying was an Olympic sport Hardison would be wearing so many gold medals he’d fall flat on his face. Again.
You see him, you know you'll hear him, and you try to get away from him because Hardison gets in your face and never. shuts. up.
But after weeks not listening, trying to ignore him, you figured out he doesn’t say a damn thing. Hardison isn't real, he has no more face of his own than the alien on that space opera he’s so fond of. Hardison, the most paranoid geek who ever clicked a key, owns every electronic doodad ever made and made a few himself, but never had an answering machine because They could use that to listen to him when he’s all alone, and nobody’s ever gonna stick shit to Hardison that way.
When the shit hits the fan Hardison walks through the walls, making doors and wiping his tracks as he goes, and even though you wish you didn’t remember him, you know if you check he was never there.

And then there’s you. You can punch through walls high and wide, you used to leave your signature behind but you don’t anymore because everybody knows your name. They know what you’ll do, and that’s whatever it takes. You’ve left enough skin behind to fill Sophie’s closet with handbags and shoes, but you always walked out the same man, just carrying a little more shit. After all these years you’re carrying so much you're bigger than life.
You used a hundred names, but you’ve only ever had one, very distinctive, style. You’ve become a Name. You can fly on it, open doors with it, or even hide behind it, because your Name’s even bigger than you are. You’re not paranoid, because it’s not paranoia when it’s real. You don’t sleep much and you drink a lot, but you don’t drink like Nate does. The world never softens when you drink, and you’d like to spin it all away too but that’s not how it goes.
What you do, you watch closer, you think more, you spin faster and hit harder than anybody expects. And when the shit hits, Eliot Spencer becomes the fan.
AB swirl
Comment fic for a prompt on the Dresden Files meme here; http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/2675.html?view=1641843&posted=1#cmt1641843
not quite exactly the prompt, but that's not where it went in the end.
947 words
Harry, Bob, Mister. Implied OCs.
warnings- um. You know Bob, right?
Also, Kittens. Or whatever they turn out to be. In Peril.
Gen. Except for the implied, above

Standard Disclaimer applies.

Summary:
My deal with Bob involved letting him possess my cat when I needed a spy. He did it for the chance to wander in a body, free of the skull as he’d never be otherwise.
I’d never asked what kind of Deal Bob and Mister had.

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Overload

hood
comment fic for elwing_alcyone 's prompt based on The Evil Overlord List over at fic_promptly

Dark Angel, Logan, Somone involved in the Heroic Struggle has an identical twin out there. I'll plan accordingly.
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Running with it

forest
For wallwalker‘s prompt over at fic_promptly on dreamwidth,
@ 2011-02-20

The Sting, Johnny Hooker, fleeing
obviously, not mine. just don't let the music get stuck in your head.


Everything changed once Hooker hit the big time. Read more...Collapse )

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splash

forest
Splash
Comment fic written for James' prompt at fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org
Leverage, Parker



Old pond,
frog jumps in--
splash
(Bashō)

Only the words are mine. Parker belongs to her creators. The gems? who knows...


The slapslap of water on the dock and the sweetsalt rotting scent of the Thames rose in the night to a shadow clinging to the Tower's outer wall. Old old stonework pressed cold and gritty under her cheek while she waited for the guard to walk around the wall.
One of the raven sentinels shrieked and took flight as she zipped past, and the guard doubled back, but he looked up at the scolding bird, never back at the window where she hung, working breathless and quiet as the shadows inside.

Next morning, the world's most secure display case displayed dismaying gaps. News of a daring, impossible theft swept round the world as the sun rose on the remnants of Empire.

An hour later, frantic curators found the missing Sovereign's Sceptre tilted casually against the empty pauldron of a suit of armor on another floor, black gauntlet closed carefully around the scepter's shaft. The Great Star of Africa winked at them from the tip of it in the morning light.
Whole countries sighed with relief.

The Lesser Star of Africa never resurfaced.

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The Winchester Record

AB swirl
Cast: Pretty much everybody.
Gen, vague S6 spoiler
This was for a double drabble challenge on the theme of missing persons over at spnwriterlounge so here are 200 words on the dot;)
And that's all that's mine here.

Summary; Saving people, hunting things. The family business.



The Winchesters have a reputation. They hunt things, they find them. Twenty years in the business, Sam’s whole life, since the night Mom burned pinned to the ceiling in a fire of supernatural origin, they hunted the demon.
When Dad went missing for a few days, Dean dragged Sam out looking, put them both back on this road. They found Dad, and the Colt.
Dean found the djinn’s dreamworld, Sam found Dean. They found Roy.
They fought the demon’s army to find Dad, and won. Twice.
Dean found Sam in Cold Oak before he even got real hungry, and brought him back before he knew he was dead.
Ok, it took a lot of Tuesdays, and months after that Wednesday to find the Trickster, but Sam was a little crazy by then, and that wasn’t real time anyway.
Dean spent forty years in Hell and found Sam in a skeevy motel room his first week out.
They found Bobby trapped in his own dreams, found Castiel, Raphael, the Four Horsemen’s damned rings.
They found Heaven, Hell’s Gate, and maybe God too.
Their record’s crap now, though. Sam’s been missing over a year, and neither of them knows he’s still gone.

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