What Superhero are you?
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[Poem] Startled
have I lost myself in another person?
Am I fully me with this question pounding in my
head?
I hated the feeling of jumping when she
came up behind me.
She used to melt into my embrace, and I used
to let it happen.
I know that I have strength.
Why do I hold on to weakness?
So much power is wasted in fear.
[Fiction] Joshua’s History – V
Oh, dear gods, at what cost, fame? His poem had been so much of exactly what the art fag had wanted. One hundred and ten per cent.
Brutal, biting, vicious words contrasted at every turn with a mockery of kindness and love. Fluid motions grated against stasis. Exactly what was sought after was lost, leaving an act of bestowing an eternity as empty, hollow, and undeserving as Joshua felt. They had loved it, and they had loved him.
They had hated Lord Welcomb. They had mocked him and stripped him of the status that was oh-so-prized in this bloody society. Lord Welcomb had been visibly agitated, a feat never before accomplished in the “polite” society of the Kindred. And that’s all that had happened in public.
It would take over a week for his body to heal from the beating he had received. And Joshua was quite good at healing. It was, at least, something to take his mind off of his punishment. That would take much, much longer to heal. Exile from London. Exile! He was sent to the American Colonies in 2000, to a city that had just been claimed in war. As a state capitol, this built-on-swampland poor excuse for a city was supposedly strategically important. He was being sent to meet ancillae representatives from the other families. They would pick a leader, and hold the city.
The place was going to be a bloody shit-hole, and he knew it.
[Poem] Power of the Pen
“I am the new way to go/
I am the wave of the future.”
Without something to do this place feels boring
and anasthetic
Grab a notepad and a pen and suddenly
good music is playing
It improves the feel and noise of the
place immensely
There are few subjects for people-watching
always the regulars
I like this music.
No room for pretentiousness at a goth night,
you know.
We’re all here to make fun of ourselves.
What a noble gesture
What a grand acceptance of the ridiculous
nature of people.
In the end, I’m not sure if it’s even
more pretentious.
Maybe we’ll talk instead of spar, he
and I.
Letting people down…
So I’ve fucked up again.
Let the cable modem bill sit, waiting to be paid, for too long. I paid it on Monday. They turned it off yesterday, until they get the check. Then they’ll re-instate the service. My roommate wants me to switch the service in his name.
I got really pissed about this. I’ve tried so hard to be financially responsible and keep up on bills and it happens AGAIN.
And not only did I let down my roommates in this, but I let down The Tie. I was supposed to finally get my hands dirty in ASP and in the new Pleeb site last night. And because of my fuck up, he’s let down too.
So, yeah. I have to figure out a way to make it up to these people. I’m fucking 24 years old, I shouldn’t be pulling this kind of stupid shit…
[Carnival] Congrats! It’s a … Carnival!
Dragon soared through the skies and through time. This was perfectly natural, and in no way strange to him. Well, the “him” that he was at the moment.
He knew he was going back, but not too far. The words “Aqua Net” and “Bad Music” flashed from somewhere in his head, back where he was still human. Dragon shook his head and snarled. The shadow that was calling to him was what was important. The wooden horse needed to be part of the Shadow, as he was. It would become brethren. Clutch-mate.
Dragon bellowed again, softly landing in the grass. He looked around him, sniffing and tasting the air. Yes, this was the place. The air tasted like grease and gasoline and human. It was this strong in the trees, it would have been overpowering outside of them. He could see the square stone towers, and the light from inside them. They almost drowned out the stars… but it was not his place to punish them. Not today.
He positioned the carousel horse in the proper place, and peered carefully into the shadows. He could see what was to be slowly emerging from them. The Carnival would live here for a little while. He could hear the soft calliope music begin. Now was the time for ritual.
Dragon hefted his war-hammer high and roared defiantly at the stars. He struck the ground below him with all his might and all his will. The hammer began to glow… first red, then blue, then white-hot… wisps of smoke and flame shot out in six directions, then rose to greet the sky. The flames suddenly extinguished, and a twisted version of a carousel sat in their place. The new horse was there, as perfect as it had been before the flame, but in every other spot were the most finely wrought statues of mythical creatures both remembered and forgotten. Some of wood, some of brass, some seemingly of gold. The platform of the carousel seemed to be made of the very granite that was the bedrock of the park. The canopy seemed to be made of intertwined ivy and rose vines, trailing down both flowers and thorns. The carousel began to turn and emit the strangest song… it conjured images of dancing around a fire at a tribal gathering, fighting wars with those who do not respect, and coming of age in a society that knew what that meant.
Dragon nodded his wedge-shaped head in satisfaction at the carousel. He left it to survey the other rides that seemed to be growing out of the ground and the trees themselves. He would have to make sure that the technology-magic was playing as big of a part as the earth-magic. Peh. Humans.
Vampire Clan Test
[Discussion] Manipulation
What is the number to assign to the level of wrong that belongs to manipulating someone into a place where I am happier with them?
Then there is the quandary: What would be manipulation? She is strong enough that she wouldn’t do what she didn’t want to. That’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her.
It comes down to morality and justification of actions, independent and stark.
What is, then, the number value of telling
someone that you’re manipulating them
into a position where you are more comfortable with them
and at the end having them thank you for it?
And can you say that manipulation isn’t simply
making Option A more desirable – in appearance
than Option B and letting them choose?
There are no choices – is not then manipulation
a helpful hand in justification?
There are choices. There can be only choice, otherwise there is no responsibility. The choice to enact my will to alter another’s perception of a situation or of myself for my own pleasure seems to reek of salesmanship, a skill which I usually find contemptible.
Not knowing the pre-existing perception is the problem, and because of this, how am I to judge whether I am selling her something she doesn’t need, or creating the doorway she craves to walk through?
Well, my dear man. Do you believe in insight?
Yes, I thought so. And usually after a few mannerisms
and watching the eyes shift at specific moments
you have an internal knowledge of another persons
reaction. “Manipulation” or “Helpful Justification”
as I like to call it, requires an attentiveness –
are you sure that you’re “Selling” something?
Or is she LOOKING for you to create
that doorway? Is it possible that you’re not
manipulating her… that she is progressing naturally
the way she wants to and that it’s all happy
coincidence?
You, of all people, would use the phrase “happy coincidence” in relation to me and a woman? You have, however, captured the essence of my quandary and your words and mine have met the stalemate that exists in my noggin. I am to make a decision between risking performing manipulation and taking the safe out that is inaction.
So, then, it comes down to the morality of the specific actions that you would suggest. So. Suggest away.
My 1st suggestion is a standard one: if you spend much more time analyzing how you relate to each other then you’re not relating with each other which is far more important. You’ve neglected to mention the possibility that perhaps you’re both moving parallel to each other – that there is NO manipulation – and that there is an undertone of sheer joy in both of you. Perhaps the fact that you relish the shape of her speech, the sounds of her movement and the sight of her emotion is shared. Would this be okay with you? If you had nothing to prove to her and that maybe, just maybe *GASP* she means exactly what she says?
Then I am doomed. The last thing she said, in relation to this, was right after Thanksgiving, when we became “just friends.” As is evident, I am not satisfied (being that it is very difficult when one is romantically in love with a friend) and have the desire to enact change.
I don’t desire to prove anything to her. Forgive me for whining, but I desire her closeness.
She adores me, of that I have no doubt. Whatever metaphor is used, I desire a shortening of the distance between us. And yes, I placed this distance where it is to fit the definition of friends. For my own sanity.
To remove it changes, in my mind, how she and I relate to each other.