I whisper your name (ayradyss) wrote,
I whisper your name

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Time to think...

This will be a small collection of things, O Best Beloved, as I have a little time between crawling-out-of-bed at 0900 (I didn't go to Curves lik I should have) and leaving for campus at 1015. M leaves today to join D in Poland; he's boarding the dogs. For the next few weeks I'll have the house entirely to myself. I'm not convinced this is a Good Thing in all regards; I am already suffering from a case of borderline miserable loneliness. There's nothing like knowing I could go find my Angel, my Matthew, and get a hug or tell him my latest quiz results that makes it not so imperative that I do it. And when he's far away and I'm all alone, I don't know what to do with myself.

numair wants to see my character story from World of Warcraft, so I'll post that first. You can find screenshots of characters at my Photobucket album, here. Avara and Paliviza are the two undead women; Papillon is the night elf. She's currently naked, as the beta push required an item wipe and I can't mail her clothing. :( Also, anyone video-game-junkie around here who wants specific screen shots (yes, Numair, that means you) I'll be happy to try and acquire.

They had promised her all manner of things in life and in death when she entered the priesthood; all manner of things that Avara could not now, for the unlife of her, remember the value of. They promised her a life of joy and the rewards of servitude, the chance to spread the Light and eradicate its enemies, an opportunity to bring prosperity to the world. Avara could not recall what strange whim had caused her to pursue such aims. There was a faint memory of ambition and desire; an even fainter hint of zeal and faith; a subtle dream of pleasure - could that have been, perhaps, the promised joy? - but they were only memories, buried now in soft and hidden recesses of her mind. The emotions she felt now were harder, less forgiving, consuming her with a fervor that she could not imagine had been hers before. There was no way that the soft weakness of memory could have seized her with the intensity of these bright, hard sensations; there was nothing in her past that could parallel her present clarity of mind. She had been betrayed.

Standing on the bulwark of a fortress, feeling the familiar sensation of power waxing within her as she rested from her efforts, Avara took a moment to marvel at the strange twist that had brought her to such an end. She rifled the body of the warrior beside her, sifting out his few coppers (it was strange, that even death had not put an end to human greed), weighing the potential value of the sword he carried against the effort of bearing it back to the sprawling Undercity, cutting away the unbloodied linen from his clothing. He and his comrades had put up a good fight, enough that both she and Paliviza had been glad for the barrenness of the tower as a place to lick their wounds, but not enough to salvage their miserable existence.
As if sensing that she was on Avara's mind, the woman across the tower in leather pants and a patchwork vest of odds and ends paused in her own search of a body to glance her way. "They stink, sister," she complained as she pocketed a handful of coppers, then leaned against the wall. Avara attempted a smile.
"They'll rot away soon enough, Pali, and perhaps their ideals with them." Paliviza gave a noncommittal shrug, moving on to the next body, sorting through its possessions. Let her. Avara seated herself with her back against a stone abutment and watched the crone who had once been her younger sister despoil the corpses of the Scarlet Crusade without the faintest twinge of pity.

And before I lose it, I'm posting what I have written for Piccolo's poetry request, which is going quite slowly as I keep falling into limerick mode:

There once was a man from Nantucket
There once was a man of the sea
Who found him a wife as a young man
And left her behind to roam free

He set out to wander the ocean
And seek out a fortune untold
He sailed over bleak seas and fair ones
Collecting his bounteous gold

Long years did he sail for his profits
Before he returned to the shore
And when he sailed into the harbor
His ship it was hailed with a roar

The women they flocked to the gangplank
To welcome the hero back home
The men had come in from their planting
And left all their cattle to roam...

I know where it's headed, I just have to get it there.

Yesterday was miserable. I spent Tuesday night downloading the 2 GB new build of World of Warcraft, and left the computer on all night. Got up in the morning to pack up the computer for the group presentation and it was done downloading, so I installed and logged on. Nothing quite like a full item wipe - the town is full of mostly-naked people (we have bikinis or boxers as part of the textures), and some races, I'm sorry (Tauren, Orc) were not meant to be naked in public. Ever. Did a little scavenging - as Avara is a leather and cloth worker, I bought basic equipment and harvested low-level critters for their skins until I had enough to make passable armour for Angel's Paliviza, enabling us to save money on equipment. (I should start working on my Lordaeron.com blog for Warcrafty stuff, instead of boring you, O Best Beloved) Packed up in what I thought was just the nick of time and headed out to campus. It was pouring down rain.
Drove around the parking garage not once, but twice behind six thousand million cars who had to wait every time the light reflected on a pair of brake lamps, before finally finding a parking spot at 11:05 (lecture is at 11) and running for the building. Got there at 11:13 or so. It was an easy lecture - Jeopardy! style review of what exam to order when - and a lot of fun. Our team got spanked when someone bet it all on the double jeopardy question and then guessed that for a neonate who's not passing stool one would get a double-contrast barium enema. (You'd get a single-contrast, don't rupture the poor kid!) I knew most of the answers if not all. Feeling pretty good about this whole medical school thing.
Radiology lectures yesterday had a break from 12-1:45, so my group decided to get together and work on our group presentation (30% of our grade). That meant that from 10:35 when I tore out the door to 4:00 PM when Dr. G (a nice guy, but wordy) finally shut up, I was immersed in radiology. No breaks, but for a quick lunch. Too much.
Came home and just collapsed into the sofa. Did not study as efficiently as I should have, and hence will probably take the extra time I've won by begging out of Matrix (I can't do a high-maintenance RP and study for Boards, not going to happen) to review yesterday's material. Heme-Onc, paugh!

I hear MS moving around, and I said I'd take him in with me today, as someone else is taking him to the airport, so I should get moving. staircase_wit, may I combine your poetry and nonfiction requests, or do you want two separate things?

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