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drabble babble
i'm still alive, just pretty much immersed in lotro
big bang... the writing for it, i gave up... first time i've ever done that in this fandom with a challenge... i feel sort of bad, but there were a lot of health type things going on and i wanted to concentrate on the art portion, which i'm hoping to finish tomorrow or saturday... have been peeking my nose into a new fandom because of that, but worry not, it's not really a new to me place per se, just an old friend that's nice to say hello to and have a cup of tea with
did manage to participate in slashy valentine, so there's fic there somewhere
on the topic of pets, since i have spent a lot of time dealing with pet related things...
Smudge is now 17, and the vet basically praised what we've done over the years (the whole family that is), told us many dogs half his age have teeth much worse, and told us to keep doing whatever we've been doing; they were surprised at how active he is and how much he romps about
Harley scared us in early December with a breathing issue - sluggish movements, panting and gasping for air - turns out our orangecicle kittyboy has a smaller-than-normal kitty heart and was just playing too much and couldn't keep up. he's a big boy, too - 20lbs, but he's part maine coon so it's not a cat needs a diet thing, more of a big boy needs to not play so hard with the girls thing - he seems to realize that now, that age plus that means he needs to slow it down a little (he'll be at least 11 this year, possibly older)
Oreo has developed some sort of an alergy of unknown origin or type; she now needs a shot every six months to keep her from pulling out her fur. Other than that, she's the talker she always has been, though she figured out a new trick to get noms from the table. instead of hopping in laps and looking forlorn, she now hops up, pats the food she wants, then looks at you like 'i touched it, i can haz cheezeburger nau?'
Finally, Artanis... the worlds's most expensive kitten - we had to take her into the emergency vet on Christmas Eve. At two year's old, she's now on a special life-long diet because of crystals - something I thought only male cats really got, and usually not until they were older. Food is on average per can three to four times what a can is for the other two cats. Feeding is interesting, can't leave food out anymore (Harley didn't speak to me for a week following that).
Prior to all of the cat issues, and I may have mentioned this in a previous post (can't believe I didn't update for two months... oh well), but in November we lost Trousers the bunny. Trousers (aka Mister Bunce) was a housewarming gift from my brother who, having wandered Middle-earth with me for some time in search of pink flamingos and purple bunnies, thought I needed my own bunny.
Trousers was a rescue bunny, so we never knew how old he was. Artanis grew up with Trousers, thinking he was just a cat with long ears; she would come and help me feed him, and jump into his cage to cuddle with him. When he was out of his cage, she played with him and kept him from chewing on things. There were times when I would forget to take her out of the cage during the morning feeding, and come home to find bunny and kitty curled up together for a nap; she figured out how to drink out of the water bottles. It was completely unexpected and sudden - I gave him some carrots one evening, came in eight hours later in the morning to feed him and found he had died in his sleep. The assumption is he was an older bunny when we got him. I wonder somewhat if losing him attributed to Artanis stressing out and having the crystals and the UTI and everything.
So, now, if you've gotten this far, good for you... here's some drabblage... something from Whispers I just muddled through. I think I'll start picking up there to build momentum, and then I have every intention of finishing Unforgettable before I have to change the title to Unfinished.
Whispers: Drabble 23: Date
Fingon was sharply pulled aside. “That is my mother,” hissed Feanor. He received a slight nod. “What are you doing with her?”
“Having dinner,” replied Fingon. He acted as if this was obvious, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Would you care to join us?”
“Findekano..” Feanor fought hard to keep his voice from rising. He looked beyond the Elf before him, seeing his dear, sweet mother sitting at a cozy table for two.
Before Feanor could add anything, Fingon said, “You can stop worrying, uncle. It is only a date. I have no intention of bedding your mother.”
Caught between the urge to sigh in relief or be offended, Feanor went with the latter and blurted out, “Well, why not?”
Whispers: Drabble 24: Courage
“What are you doing?” Fingolfin barely caught hold of the reigns, and waited for an answer from his son.
“Someone has to do something.” Fingon was armored for battle, his sword sharp, his quiver full, his horse grinding the bit.
Fingolfin’s gaze met that of his son. In his heart, he knew these would be their last moments together for some years. “You would stand against him. Alone. No one by your side.”
“Aye.” There was no hesitation.
Fingolfin turned his head and barked orders to those around him. “Saddle Rochallor! Bring me my sword!” He let go of Fingolfin’s reigns. “I ride to Angband tonight,” he said solemnly as he lifted the crown from his head and held it aloft for Fingon to take.
Whispers: Drabble 25: Passion
“I unequivocally detest it,” admitted Fingon. They were walking the shores, and crossed the line from cautious courting to complete honesty. Despite possibilities of awkward conversation regarding his grandfather, he continued. “I enjoy the romance: cuddling, kissing, unexpected love notes. I find the act of copulation to be disgusting and unsanitary.”
“This is why Maedhros left?” questioned Miriel, shoes in one hand, the other holding onto Fingon’s upper arm as the tide swept at their feet.
“Why I left him,” corrected Fingon. “His inner flame would have burned me alive had I stayed.”
A pause, then Miriel spoke. “He gets it from his father; his father certainly got it from Finwe.” She mulled it over. “I like you,” she decided. “I think I would find enjoyment in your arms, but not in your bed.”
“Fair enough,” agreed Fingon. “I think, you and I, find our crafts to be our passion.”
Whispers: Drabble 26: Emotion
“If you thought yourself unable, why not pass the crown to your brothers? Your own blood!” Celegorm was seething. Even though all had been cautioned on the delicate state that Maedhros was in, this had not stopped him from bursting into the unlit room his brother was healing in to demand answers.
“Let him rest,” scolded Maglor, but Celegorm pushed his elder brother aside to stand next to the bed, hovering over Maedhros.
Slowly, silver eyes opened, barely focusing. “Maglor suffered greatly in this position. I have not the strength to rule; he has not the drive.” His eyes closed again.
“What about me?” demanded Celegorm. He continued his rage by slamming his fist down upon a small table beside the bed. “What right have you to pass me by? Tell me, what is it that I lack?”
“Emotional stability,” answered Caranthir with a glare.
Celegorm growled and gestured rudely.
Sidenote: I've been playing on tumblr a bit. If you're over there, and like a little silliness, go ask_turgon a question.... he might even send you a scented greeting card ;)
big bang... the writing for it, i gave up... first time i've ever done that in this fandom with a challenge... i feel sort of bad, but there were a lot of health type things going on and i wanted to concentrate on the art portion, which i'm hoping to finish tomorrow or saturday... have been peeking my nose into a new fandom because of that, but worry not, it's not really a new to me place per se, just an old friend that's nice to say hello to and have a cup of tea with
did manage to participate in slashy valentine, so there's fic there somewhere
on the topic of pets, since i have spent a lot of time dealing with pet related things...
Smudge is now 17, and the vet basically praised what we've done over the years (the whole family that is), told us many dogs half his age have teeth much worse, and told us to keep doing whatever we've been doing; they were surprised at how active he is and how much he romps about
Harley scared us in early December with a breathing issue - sluggish movements, panting and gasping for air - turns out our orangecicle kittyboy has a smaller-than-normal kitty heart and was just playing too much and couldn't keep up. he's a big boy, too - 20lbs, but he's part maine coon so it's not a cat needs a diet thing, more of a big boy needs to not play so hard with the girls thing - he seems to realize that now, that age plus that means he needs to slow it down a little (he'll be at least 11 this year, possibly older)
Oreo has developed some sort of an alergy of unknown origin or type; she now needs a shot every six months to keep her from pulling out her fur. Other than that, she's the talker she always has been, though she figured out a new trick to get noms from the table. instead of hopping in laps and looking forlorn, she now hops up, pats the food she wants, then looks at you like 'i touched it, i can haz cheezeburger nau?'
Finally, Artanis... the worlds's most expensive kitten - we had to take her into the emergency vet on Christmas Eve. At two year's old, she's now on a special life-long diet because of crystals - something I thought only male cats really got, and usually not until they were older. Food is on average per can three to four times what a can is for the other two cats. Feeding is interesting, can't leave food out anymore (Harley didn't speak to me for a week following that).
Prior to all of the cat issues, and I may have mentioned this in a previous post (can't believe I didn't update for two months... oh well), but in November we lost Trousers the bunny. Trousers (aka Mister Bunce) was a housewarming gift from my brother who, having wandered Middle-earth with me for some time in search of pink flamingos and purple bunnies, thought I needed my own bunny.
Trousers was a rescue bunny, so we never knew how old he was. Artanis grew up with Trousers, thinking he was just a cat with long ears; she would come and help me feed him, and jump into his cage to cuddle with him. When he was out of his cage, she played with him and kept him from chewing on things. There were times when I would forget to take her out of the cage during the morning feeding, and come home to find bunny and kitty curled up together for a nap; she figured out how to drink out of the water bottles. It was completely unexpected and sudden - I gave him some carrots one evening, came in eight hours later in the morning to feed him and found he had died in his sleep. The assumption is he was an older bunny when we got him. I wonder somewhat if losing him attributed to Artanis stressing out and having the crystals and the UTI and everything.
So, now, if you've gotten this far, good for you... here's some drabblage... something from Whispers I just muddled through. I think I'll start picking up there to build momentum, and then I have every intention of finishing Unforgettable before I have to change the title to Unfinished.
Whispers: Drabble 23: Date
Fingon was sharply pulled aside. “That is my mother,” hissed Feanor. He received a slight nod. “What are you doing with her?”
“Having dinner,” replied Fingon. He acted as if this was obvious, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Would you care to join us?”
“Findekano..” Feanor fought hard to keep his voice from rising. He looked beyond the Elf before him, seeing his dear, sweet mother sitting at a cozy table for two.
Before Feanor could add anything, Fingon said, “You can stop worrying, uncle. It is only a date. I have no intention of bedding your mother.”
Caught between the urge to sigh in relief or be offended, Feanor went with the latter and blurted out, “Well, why not?”
Whispers: Drabble 24: Courage
“What are you doing?” Fingolfin barely caught hold of the reigns, and waited for an answer from his son.
“Someone has to do something.” Fingon was armored for battle, his sword sharp, his quiver full, his horse grinding the bit.
Fingolfin’s gaze met that of his son. In his heart, he knew these would be their last moments together for some years. “You would stand against him. Alone. No one by your side.”
“Aye.” There was no hesitation.
Fingolfin turned his head and barked orders to those around him. “Saddle Rochallor! Bring me my sword!” He let go of Fingolfin’s reigns. “I ride to Angband tonight,” he said solemnly as he lifted the crown from his head and held it aloft for Fingon to take.
Whispers: Drabble 25: Passion
“I unequivocally detest it,” admitted Fingon. They were walking the shores, and crossed the line from cautious courting to complete honesty. Despite possibilities of awkward conversation regarding his grandfather, he continued. “I enjoy the romance: cuddling, kissing, unexpected love notes. I find the act of copulation to be disgusting and unsanitary.”
“This is why Maedhros left?” questioned Miriel, shoes in one hand, the other holding onto Fingon’s upper arm as the tide swept at their feet.
“Why I left him,” corrected Fingon. “His inner flame would have burned me alive had I stayed.”
A pause, then Miriel spoke. “He gets it from his father; his father certainly got it from Finwe.” She mulled it over. “I like you,” she decided. “I think I would find enjoyment in your arms, but not in your bed.”
“Fair enough,” agreed Fingon. “I think, you and I, find our crafts to be our passion.”
Whispers: Drabble 26: Emotion
“If you thought yourself unable, why not pass the crown to your brothers? Your own blood!” Celegorm was seething. Even though all had been cautioned on the delicate state that Maedhros was in, this had not stopped him from bursting into the unlit room his brother was healing in to demand answers.
“Let him rest,” scolded Maglor, but Celegorm pushed his elder brother aside to stand next to the bed, hovering over Maedhros.
Slowly, silver eyes opened, barely focusing. “Maglor suffered greatly in this position. I have not the strength to rule; he has not the drive.” His eyes closed again.
“What about me?” demanded Celegorm. He continued his rage by slamming his fist down upon a small table beside the bed. “What right have you to pass me by? Tell me, what is it that I lack?”
“Emotional stability,” answered Caranthir with a glare.
Celegorm growled and gestured rudely.
Sidenote: I've been playing on tumblr a bit. If you're over there, and like a little silliness, go ask_turgon a question.... he might even send you a scented greeting card ;)