Sakura
loves Sohma Yuki so much, she is willing to build monuments. "Really
big ones," she gushes, waving her Prince Yuki pennant in
the air. "Big sparkly ones out of amethyst, or maybe gold."
Unfortunately, she happens to be a horrible sculptor; she cannot
even fashion a decent ball out of clay. The best she can do is
make crummy sketches of the Prince with n-year old markers. Which
do not register well on screen and have to be smudged to death
in Photoshop. "All right, so it looks like he has only four
fingers instead of five," she admits, "but you
try working without a tablet!" She offers no explanation
for the missing left hand. "Use your imagination," she
berates this writer. "Haven't you heard of the term 'artistic
license'? If I want to draw Yuki-kun left hand-less, I have every
right to do so. Just like I have the right to call this layout
'strawberry' just because it's all pink and rosy, even if there
isn't a sign of the fruit anywhere. If strawberries are
fruits. They are fruits, aren't they? Well. If you'll excuse
me, I have Mouse!Yuki cookies to frost." Then she runs off
cackling, scattering plushies of the Prince in her wake.
Sakura
is [1]
mad, [2] dangerous, and [3] in dire need of therapy. Should you
have any doubts about these claims, visit 1
. 2
. 3.
4
. 5
. 6 and weep. Or dance. Or smoke ten cigarettes at once.
Question #1: [2], [3], and [4] are all of the same age; [5] and [6] are of the same age; [7] and [8] are of the same age; [9], [10], and [11] are of the same age; [12] and [13] are of the same age?
Question #2: How many years separate each age group?
If Shigure could blame one thing, it would be the idea that came out of nowhere. It struck him just as he was shuffling to the kitchen for some tea (his editor would be so happy; he had been turning in blank sheets for weeks), and so preoccupied was he with it that he actually walked straight into Tohru, who was stumbling down the hallway with an armful of laundry at the time.
For (self-inflicted) penance, he had to sort the laundry into piles of three, while Tohru knelt by his worktable and eagerly stared at his laptop.
“Shigure-san, is this for your latest novel?”
Bark.
Tohru sparkled. “It looks wonderful.”
The dog proudly straightened up and wagged his tail. Then he ducked his head back into the pile, fishing out a gray shirt that smelled like it had come straight out of a shopping bag.
They probably change outfits five times a day, Shigure thought wryly, wrinkling his nose at the amount of clothing. This is probably why I have to shell out so much for detergent every month. Making a mental note to give a speech over dinner ('Narrowing Wardrobe Down To Essentials And Making Life Easier For Tohru-kun, Among Other Things'), he tossed the shirt into the Kyou pile with a growl.
Tohru leaned closer to the screen. “What does ‘capricious’ mean, Shigure-san?”
Bark bark bark.
“Hmmmmm,” went Tohru thoughtfully, as if in understanding.
I don't know about y'all, but the new ff.net policy on usernames is irritating. *burinku* Apparently I am the only one with this problem because I'm the only one who didn't have enough brains to think up a unique username. Because I didn't want the '2' after the pen name, I had to change names, which is annoying (but now at least my ff.net username is the same as my DA username, but I feel like whining about it anyway). Only one person beat me to 'Sakura', and even that got a '1' after the pen name... Blech. Maybe we Sakuras could all stage a rally to fight for our right to share the same name or something.
I think it's the rain. I feel stupid and useless and unable to string words together properly. I wrote something Yukiru last night and posted it at the ML, but it was more like me wanting to post something than me coming with something postworthy. And I really should cut this out, I'm vexing myself to death.
How Not to Write Series #1: Gimme an I for Idiotic Imagery
[snip]
The same skirt now flapped in the wind, dull white in the shadows of the awning where it hung from the rafters, dripping and dejected, like a bird trying to fold its wings with dignity about itself and failing miserably.
[/snip]
The hiatus sign is still shining very very very brightly, uhuum.
I don't know if fic logs are [1] for griping about one's lack of talent and/or inspiration or [2] for showing the world that you DO have talent and have every right to be read or [3] just there to take up webspace.
At any rate I'd love to show the world that I have every right to be read but alas, the now me thinks I suck. Nothing is worse than wanting to write so badly and ending up hating every single word you come up with. I'm afraid I'll have to turn on the familiar On Hiatus sign again. It will keep flashing over my head until I learn to reconcile myself with my utter lack of *censored censored censored*. Thank you.
P.S. From now on, all snippets go directly to the ML files. We like to keep things organized around here.
