more miscellany
Aug. 29th, 2012 11:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kasihyaHands raised high in the gathering haze
As the sun burns through to the ancient of days
You are half my heart set apart till the end of the age
Speed the Collapse
Kin
After the Storm
Stay and Defend
Mention that after three weeks, he's got a fuzzy head, because he's brought a razor and shaving cream but he wasn't planning on being gone long enough to need to shave his head, too. And he'll have to use Sarah as a mirror. They both probably smell pretty disgusting, but I doubt that they'd notice that.
I still can't figure out how to end their story. I want them to get to the mountains, and for there to be a campfire already going, but I'm not sure what they'll find there. I have a bunch of options. Joseph; Gabriel; Prometheus; Fourth-world cicada-people; it could be a couple of people. Maybe Joseph found a camp of people who survived, six or seven of them, and this is their campout. They're in no better shape than Noah or Sarah, except that they've got some food that wasn't drowned or washed away by the floods on the dry mountains. There can be Joseph whose dog left so that he would be able to survive; there can be a father and his small daughter; there can be an older couple -- no. Why do I need to have them meet anyone? Just end it with them walking to the fire. GOT IT!
The end of Karen's story is with her and Simon learning to live with King Arthur, and Arthur learning to live as Matt. So, like, time passes, and one day, they wake up and realize that hey, this new person, he's okay. Maybe he does something that is uniquely King Arthur, not Matt, like: he writes Karen a really bad love poem that's all flowery and old-fashioned but also true, and also about her, where Matt was in the habit of reciting Shakespeare and Spencer at her, with huge dramatic gestures, while he goes on about how he can't possibly write a poem that would do her justice. And for Simon, he goes storming off to collect money from someone who owes his uncle for work, which fails miserably because he's not actually King Arthur, but it's the thought that counts. Or maybe he just writes them both a love poem. It's got to be really terrible, in an antiquated form, and he has to be completely sincere.
**********************************
Okay, so I had some disturbing dreams involving torture last night. I know exactly where they came from, and given how warped I was thinking when I woke up, it's probably better that I don't remember what the hell was going on. I'm sticking on eight circles of hell, even though there are nine, but that's all I remember, other than a lot of red. Not cool, subconscious. Not cool.
Everyone tells her to be herself, but the thing is, there are so many different ways to be herself. Why should one be better than the others?
1. Joanna Harvelle
What Jo mainly thinks that people -- people here being mostly her mom, and later her guidance counselor during one brief but memorable encounter in high school -- mean when they tell her to be herself is 'don't dress up so that boys will notice you, or else they might notice you'. She blithely ignores this advice until the first time that she's cleaning tables at the Roadhouse and one of the men, who is attractive like a hungry wolf but at least twenty-five, leans back in his chair, looks her up and down, and turns back to the two other men at the table with him. They talk in low, laughing voices, to which Jo pays no heed.
2. Joe
When she was very young, she wore her dad's old shirts like nightgowns.
3. Jo
Contrary to what Osiris says, Jo didn't actually have a crush on Dean. Maybe for a few minutes after she met him, right up until he tried to hit on her and then cover his tracks (badly) when she'd called him out on it. And, okay, if she's going to be really honest? Even a little after that, she still has trouble identifying her feelings, because it's never as simple as
'I can't decide whether I want him, or I just want to be him,' she tells Ash, on an impulse. Her mother isn't in the room, of course; there are some things she's better off left guessing at. 'I mean,' -- rolling her eyes, -- 'I don't need the martyr complex, or the freaky codependent thing he has with Sam, and whatever other bats are up in that belfry. But sometimes I think it'd be fun to look like him.'
'Yeah, I know what you mean,' he says, resting his chin in his hand and staring off into the distance.
Jo blinks at him. 'You do?'
'Yeah. I mean, if I could just be a woman, then I wouldn't need the internet,' he explains.
'Ew, Ash!' She shoves him away and recoils, laughing. 'That's not what I mean.'
'Oh.' His face falls, for some reason. Jo does not want to know.
As the sun burns through to the ancient of days
You are half my heart set apart till the end of the age
Speed the Collapse
Kin
After the Storm
Stay and Defend
Mention that after three weeks, he's got a fuzzy head, because he's brought a razor and shaving cream but he wasn't planning on being gone long enough to need to shave his head, too. And he'll have to use Sarah as a mirror. They both probably smell pretty disgusting, but I doubt that they'd notice that.
I still can't figure out how to end their story. I want them to get to the mountains, and for there to be a campfire already going, but I'm not sure what they'll find there. I have a bunch of options. Joseph; Gabriel; Prometheus; Fourth-world cicada-people; it could be a couple of people. Maybe Joseph found a camp of people who survived, six or seven of them, and this is their campout. They're in no better shape than Noah or Sarah, except that they've got some food that wasn't drowned or washed away by the floods on the dry mountains. There can be Joseph whose dog left so that he would be able to survive; there can be a father and his small daughter; there can be an older couple -- no. Why do I need to have them meet anyone? Just end it with them walking to the fire. GOT IT!
The end of Karen's story is with her and Simon learning to live with King Arthur, and Arthur learning to live as Matt. So, like, time passes, and one day, they wake up and realize that hey, this new person, he's okay. Maybe he does something that is uniquely King Arthur, not Matt, like: he writes Karen a really bad love poem that's all flowery and old-fashioned but also true, and also about her, where Matt was in the habit of reciting Shakespeare and Spencer at her, with huge dramatic gestures, while he goes on about how he can't possibly write a poem that would do her justice. And for Simon, he goes storming off to collect money from someone who owes his uncle for work, which fails miserably because he's not actually King Arthur, but it's the thought that counts. Or maybe he just writes them both a love poem. It's got to be really terrible, in an antiquated form, and he has to be completely sincere.
**********************************
Okay, so I had some disturbing dreams involving torture last night. I know exactly where they came from, and given how warped I was thinking when I woke up, it's probably better that I don't remember what the hell was going on. I'm sticking on eight circles of hell, even though there are nine, but that's all I remember, other than a lot of red. Not cool, subconscious. Not cool.
Everyone tells her to be herself, but the thing is, there are so many different ways to be herself. Why should one be better than the others?
1. Joanna Harvelle
What Jo mainly thinks that people -- people here being mostly her mom, and later her guidance counselor during one brief but memorable encounter in high school -- mean when they tell her to be herself is 'don't dress up so that boys will notice you, or else they might notice you'. She blithely ignores this advice until the first time that she's cleaning tables at the Roadhouse and one of the men, who is attractive like a hungry wolf but at least twenty-five, leans back in his chair, looks her up and down, and turns back to the two other men at the table with him. They talk in low, laughing voices, to which Jo pays no heed.
2. Joe
When she was very young, she wore her dad's old shirts like nightgowns.
3. Jo
Contrary to what Osiris says, Jo didn't actually have a crush on Dean. Maybe for a few minutes after she met him, right up until he tried to hit on her and then cover his tracks (badly) when she'd called him out on it. And, okay, if she's going to be really honest? Even a little after that, she still has trouble identifying her feelings, because it's never as simple as
'I can't decide whether I want him, or I just want to be him,' she tells Ash, on an impulse. Her mother isn't in the room, of course; there are some things she's better off left guessing at. 'I mean,' -- rolling her eyes, -- 'I don't need the martyr complex, or the freaky codependent thing he has with Sam, and whatever other bats are up in that belfry. But sometimes I think it'd be fun to look like him.'
'Yeah, I know what you mean,' he says, resting his chin in his hand and staring off into the distance.
Jo blinks at him. 'You do?'
'Yeah. I mean, if I could just be a woman, then I wouldn't need the internet,' he explains.
'Ew, Ash!' She shoves him away and recoils, laughing. 'That's not what I mean.'
'Oh.' His face falls, for some reason. Jo does not want to know.
