aiyume: (Default)
( Jul. 11th, 2008 02:48 pm)
From a conversation that [livejournal.com profile] pixie0fd00m and I were having:

Me: "Do you need a certain kind of calculator?"
Her: "Yes for my geometry/..."
Me: "Geometry slash? What? Like an Escher and Euclid sex story?"
Her: "... geometry/algebra 3 class. You're horrible!" {laughs}

Later...

Me: "I wonder what meta slash fiction would be like?"
{pause}
Her: "I don't know if it's scarier that I think that's funny or that I'm trying to figure it out."
-----
So today, I think I've figured it out...

A story composed of an e-mail exchange between Shatner and Nimoy. Through innuendo and a clash of wills (perhaps about who is more successful (who comes out on top??)) you follow the storyline of a typical physical conflict turning into a D/s sex romp.

Substitute Daniel Radcliffe/Tom Felton where "appropriate".
aiyume: (Default)
( Dec. 18th, 2007 08:45 am)
I am not crying.
It's the rain, and if they're tears
It's smoke from the fire.

Fire on a Rainy Day Haiku
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aiyume: (Default)
( Apr. 12th, 2007 12:30 pm)
The Alchemist

He read a Song
Of a king long gone
Who spoke of love and loss
After his mining
And all his refining
He's left with only dross

CHORUS:
He examines this base existence
He pores over books and things he's been told
Where can he find this transformation
To turn himself to gold

He asks ladies fair
If they can compare
What others have done wrong or right
He listens to men
Claim they'll do it again
Please give them just one more night

REPEAT CHORUS

Is it only confusion
An agreed illusion
That seems to bind the elements
The harder he tries
It seems like more lies
His work makes less and less sense

FINAL CHORUS
For a moment I saw what I gave you
Reflected in your eyes and shining so bright
But now you see it for what it was
Gold turned to lead in fading light
No Alchemist I
No Alchemist I
The service station was diagonal on the corner lot. It looked like a relic that would be more at home on Route 66 than in the middle of an urban area. Newly painted in white with blue trim and lettering, if it had a neon sign it had long since been removed. The pumps had been removed, but the island was still there. We pulled into the driveway and I looked down the sidewalk median at weeds and unkempt lawns in front of small houses. The sun was heading down in the west, reflecting across the downtown skyscrapers below the highlands.

We stepped out of the car and looked at the station. It had a big pull through bay and an office in the back. We went across the front to look at the other side of it. Out of the corner my eye, I saw a couple short black outlines walking down the street toward the car. When we turned to look at the gas station, the car was out of sight. I couldn't tell if the shadowy figures had continued walking down the street or stopped at the car.

Out of suspicion, I activated the remote to lock the car. I couldn't tell in the dusk city light if it had worked so I hit the unlock and lock again. I thought I heard exclamations, looked at Kathleen and motioned for her to wait. I went toward the corner of the building, but then caught a bit of movement peek through the bays. I thought about heading straight for them, but instead walked to the near corner of the building, and waited behind where one of the bay doors was. I peeked through the hinges and saw them running through, thinking I was coming around the outside of the building.

I stepped up to match speed, and caught the first one coming out through the doors. The inertia brought me back close to where Kathleen was standing. The result was not the midget-sized shadow I'd seen lurking, but a 5"-ish woman. Her companion stopped behind her. He was shorter than me, perhaps 5' 10". Both were a rich shade of brown.

"Run, master," the woman said.

"Wait," I said. "I just want to know if you did anything to our car." I let the woman go to stand across from me next to her "master".

His voice emerged with an elegant British accent. "We'd paid for some work on our car earlier, but it wasn't done correctly. We think it may have been done to your car instead," said the man.

I looked at Kathleen, then back at him. "So, you found our car, then followed us here from our house, to... what? Un-fix our car? We did have some work done on it today."

"No, no. We just wanted to see that it was indeed done to your car. Then we would take ours back tomorrow."

"Well, certainly we can check our car, and if you had to pay for some of our work, we can help straighten it out at the repair place tomorrow. My girlfriend has an appointment, but we can make arrangements to get it there as soon possible in the morning. We wouldn't want you get ripped off."

"Thank you."

I nodded. Then asked, "Oh, which place did you say you got your car repaired at?" I looked from the gentleman to his lady friend. Her eyes were captivating. Gold, set in perfect light brown skin. I missed his answer somehow, but it seemed to match with where we'd been. Certainly Kathleen didn't say anything about it not matching.

[The man was carrying two more people in his arms, perhaps a foot tall, and skinny. One entreated him not to trust me at some point, but as part of the glamor from the girl, or because it was in a dream, it didn't stick in my mind that there was anything unusual about them.]

We made our way back to the car, a bit punchy coming down from the adrenaline rush of catching and confronting people. We got in the car. Maybe we started making out. I don't quite remember. I woke to...

Realizing I was dreaming in bed. What a cool story that would make. I got up and headed down the hall. It was a mid-length office hallway, and I turned into a door most of the way down. This room was divided with a couple smaller offices on the left, and a reception/work area on the right. I chose the far office, turned in, and I was in the office at the gas station. What better place to write this story, I thought, than where it happened. I started sorting through stacks of 45s, trying to decide what I wanted to listen to. The Biggest Stack of Records in Minesota, I thought. Then I looked out the window to where the car was parked, still in the NE corner.

There was a round hole under it, about 5 feet across, oozing a light that seemed bright yellow and sickly green at the same time. That man, and his djinni... They didn't care about our car at all. They were trying to protect that portal we'd parked on top of. And now it's open and something uncomprehendingly and otherworldly evil is coming out of.

Cut to:

A small room with a couple of long tables in it. On it are scattered small torn pieces of cloth, and similarly small torn pieces of skin. Enter two demons, one in a work suit, the other in nice plain clothes.

The suited one asks, "Did we figure out which of these bits has the soul fragment? Which one is talking?"

"Not yet," hisses the other. "We're still working on it, though."

"If we don't figure out where the other end of that portal was or what kind of Elder was unleashed, there's going to be Hell to pay. Satan's still got a vested interest in this plane."
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aiyume: (Default)
( Jan. 23rd, 2007 10:18 pm)
Came up with a poetry idea, partly based on stuff going on with me and partly based on a line I read in David Brin's Earth. The first version is closer to the feelings.

HEALING GAIA

If I felt I could have offered you more
I would have stayed
Technology to repair the ozone
And replenish dwindling resources

Now I head out on a long trajectory
Taking as much of the population as I can with me
Hoping you will heal
But even my leaving causes scars

I look back to check
And you still look consumed
Broken
Hurt
Angry

I wonder if you see red
And assume Dopler shift
Leaving faster than I am
And straight away from you

I will continue my gentle arc
And watch
And pray
That you don't tear yourself apart
----------

On the way home I was able to do a re-write leaning a little more to the metaphorical side.

----------
Gaia fluctuates
Mankind adds pressure
Pushing this way and that
Breaking holes in her spirit
Taking more than they give
Poisoning her, weakening her

Once in awhile, she pleads for help
She grumbles unsatisfied in the ocean
Nudging waves against comfortable men
Drops heavy tear drops in New Orleans
But we write it off, call it acts of God

So we planned ark ships
Enough to take away two-fifths
Of the population
It takes still more resources
Weakens her more and causes
Little deaths in our souls as well

Finally, we lift away, causing still more scars
And burning up more of her breath
Leaving more chemicals and smoke
Sad to be leaving
But hopeful that she will heal
And perhaps be treated better in the future

As we look back we see her consumed
Broken
Hurt
Angry
We wonder if she sees red through smoke
And assumes we are accelerating
Leaving as fast as we can

We will continue our gentle arc
And watch
And pray
That she doesn't tear herself apart
Leaving for good is hard enough
Leaving in futility would be devastating
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aiyume: (Default)
( Jan. 21st, 2005 12:47 pm)
This is a story I originally wrote in May of last year. I've been trying to find a FanFic community or forum to post it in, but since it's fairly tame (no hint of Angel subduing Spike and... well, you know) it doesn't fit into some of the categories that have whole groups dedicated to them. So if you're a Buffy fan and/or want to read a story I've written, here it is.

Read more... )
aiyume: (Default)
( Jun. 4th, 2004 12:50 pm)
Apart from focusing energy toward [livejournal.com profile] mtfierce and child, I didn't really feel like I could do much. Not being able to talk to someone I cared about during a time of crisis was frustrating. And the various LJ posts were so supportive and caring that the only thing I could have added was "me, too". It wasn't until her post about being able to hold the baby that words finally came to me. Thanks to the four sexy muses who proofread, and gave support and suggestions.

Meera, for you and your baby daughter:

Then came through the storm
A spark to warm and a light
As a halo, fright itself afeared
Medusan faces mirr'red as together
The crew tethers and sets sail
Ignoring the wail of sirens
All conspiring to keep them evermore
Away from healing shores

Time ebbs and flows, states
Are they too late, too early?
But their worry is futile
And brutally abusing themselves
Just private hells. So they turn
And they learn that furies, muses,
All Zeus looses to help them cope
And through their friends give hope.

'Round the world, we wait
Anticipate something in the netting
We're fretting for information
A negation of the doubts
That sprouts in skeptic minds.
Then the blinds are lifted
We are gifted and we smiled
At the news of Gaia's child.

As mother holds baby girl
Thoughts awhirl with delight
At the sight of simple being
Seen and seeing, small, alive
That they survive deserves rejoicing
And voicing cheers, triumphant song
Blessings that strong she'll grow and be
A golden child, Mnemosyne.
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aiyume: (Ghost Mike)
( Aug. 5th, 2003 02:46 pm)
Archetypes

I have been your King.
You bowed to my every wish
And asked what more you could do
To make me feel worshipped.

I have been your Warrior.
Standing guard, taking psychic blows
But lies make for poor armor
So I defected.

I have been your Lover.
Brief periods of intense heat
Seperated by cool looks
Days, weeks, months at a time.

I have been your Fool.
Through it all, a toy to be hidden
When you were ready to play
At being an adult again.
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