drunken fireflies on parade

Hmm.

Said I'd fix this soon, but I've changed my mind... too damned lazy to study S1, and my head's a victim of the buzz phenomenon that hits most half-sane people on gray mornings such as this one.

Fatims said that the layout looked nice. May the One Up There (or Down Below) bless her soul.

Cutting Math. Can't afford to go to class in a state like this.

Yesterday was an example of worldly joy. Skipped out on Lit 14 class to accompany Khursten, Joanne, Emil and PH to their Christmas party. Andrew - a blockmate of theirs - was supposed to follow us in his car. We ended up losing him on the way, which left the lot of us wondering how a person with decent driving skills could vanish along a long, straight road in broad daylight. That's Andrew for you, I guess... this is the same guy that thought I was his blockmate in Botany just because I sat in on their sessions a few times near the end of the semester.

Putting that all aside, we arrived at Chuck's house at good time. Felt a little out-of-place there, but it was fun watching the festivities anyway (THEY HAD A PS2!). Lugged around there until 10:00 when me, the people mentioned above and two others piled into Khursten's car (one of the old, small Toyota models, just to let you know...), and made our way back to campus to drop them off, hitting speed bumps and leaving a pretty trail of car paint behind each time.

Emil, PH, Tish and Mavik (the two other people who joined us) got off at the SEC-Gonzaga roundabout. Joanne, Khursten and I went back to my house. We made a rather valiant attempt at answering our Prelab paper for Physics... we did pretty well, given the fact that Khursten had a migraine, Joanne was functioning on three hours of sleep and I just didn't feel like doing anything but oggle the Love Mode volumes that Khursten lent me.

We watched some Prince of Tennis and ate good lunch before we headed back to Ateneo. Physics Lab went by pretty fast; Khursten and I merit this to the fact that Kipp - our virtually nonexistent fourth group member - was actually cooperating with us. With all that said and done, the two of us headed over to UP to prepare for the festivities of the Lantern Parade.

Mom had said it would be fun. I never figured it would have been THAT fun. To recount everything that happened to me in twenty-five words or less (or even in three succeeding paragraphs) would be impossible, therefore I will not bother.

Let's look at it this way. After last night, I think I've been properly initiated into the sisterhood, if you could call it that.

Did I mention that Khursten and I got a little lost in UP because of all the closed roads, and that we made Tessa run after us while we were picking our way through vehicular chaos?

Yayness. And I wonder whether there's such a word as 'vehicular.' I heard it once before, but you can't really on the people down at FictionPress or FanfictionNet anymore for that sort of stuff.

It was 10:30 when we left UP for A Veneto's Pizzeria (at least I THINK that's what the marquee of the restaurant said...); it was close to midnight by the time they drove me home. Cole was barking like crazy as I said hello to my very sleepy-looking mother, went upstairs, fetched Khursten's cell phone (she had left it in my house, and even though she can survive the sembreak without it I can't survive the sembreak without her having it especially since Endtimes isn't finished), delivered it to my senpai, said fare-thee-well to the craziest bunch of friends I've ever had, and went back to my room, fully intending to catch forty z's.

I did not catch forty z's. I ended up reading Endless Nights instead. Must've fallen asleep at around 2 AM, but it felt like I had slept rather well when I was roused by my little bro wandering around in my room looking for his shoes.

Manang had to go in and tidy up my room, so I had to step out and let her. Lady's going to get a heart attack if she doesn't. I've been reduced to using the computer in the office downstairs, and it isn't a very good experience because of all these damned XXX pop-ups that make me wonder Just Where in the Nine Hells Do People Who Use This Surf To and Who in Jesus' Name Would Go to Places Like That Since Petrik My Eldest Brother Of a Porno King is Half an Ocean Away...

It's his ghost, I tell you. Either that, or it's Paolo on a bad day.

Speaking of Paolo, he was wandering around here earlier, doing what he's best at (being annoying by simply pacing, and muttering, and tapping things and breathing). Half of me WOULD be annoyed, but my immediate concern at the moment is taking a shower, writing Endtimes and figuring out how to keep all these "cum 24 hours" ads from coming around before it pisses my dad off enough to get him to take a sledgehammer to this quaint little machine.

I miss my computer. I'll go check if Manang's finished.

...and a few minutes later....

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Manang not done with room yet. Yes, I am a lazy bum and I do not pick up after myself during the school year. It's ordered chaos in there, man... nobody has to know where everything goes except me, right?

Anyway.

Went to computer beside my room (some of you must be wondering just how many PCs I have at my house by now) and discovered that the screen was all black save for a blinking cursor somewhere near the bottom right corner. I've never seen a machine hang that way.

The first thought that popped into my head was Jesus, what the hell did Paolo manage to do this time?

His fingers bring disaster, I say. He'd do Destruction of the Endless proud.

Grrr. Morning sunlight. Grrr.

...I think I better take a shower now.

(no subject)

I just finished reading Love Mode volumes 8, 9, 10 (bits of it, anyway...) and 11.

O_O

It was beautiful. Beautiful, I say.

O_O

Reiji is a sex god. And Kiichi is is awesome. And Haroumi is so COOL. And Naoya-kun is the most adorable little boy I've ever seen. And Takamiya is wonderful as expected. And Izumi-kun is better than I thought he'd be. And Shiki is THE BOMB.

Did I mention just how absolutely adorable all of them are? Dude, even Shougo Aoe, Yukihiko Kashima and the other "old-timers (mind you, none of them are actually old...) were soo cool!

*sniffle*

I'll say it again. Beautiful.

opinions, anyone?

I just wrote out this bit for Chapter 35 of Endtimes and I'm rather proud of it... here we go.

* * *

2:18 in the afternoon. Arcis City, The Tanuka Sector.

Clever got me this far then tricky got me in

Eye on what I'm after - I don't need another friend

Smile and drop the cliché until you think I’m listening

I take just what I came for then I’m out the door again…

Rethe moved through the old building in perfect silence, his movements refined to smallest detail and the sharpest blade of expectations with nothing wasted and everything executed with careless grace. He drifted past broken glass and rotten wood frames, passing in and out of streams of sunlight full of dust motes that winked in and out to the observant eye like the daytime’s version of fireflies or stars. Even though all the blue-eyed hunter’s senses and every will-o-the-wisp in the area was attuned to smoking out the rats that Miriam had sent him off to exterminate, his lips moved to form the words to the lyrics of the song he was listening to on his CD Player at that moment.

Midway through the post-Black Christmas ruin, a will-o-the-wisp faded into existence and drifted near Rethe’s face, leaving the taste of singed innocence on his lips; with it, one of the young Peshmerga’s guns was already out and trained towards the trash cans to his left before they had even been jostled and knocked over. He shot the dog that emerged before it even had the chance to yelp, knowing that it wasn’t really a dog and that he was no longer alone.

Over the lyrics full of muted desperation and it accompanying eerily quiet guitar work that filtered through his earphones, Rethe pulled out his other gun and opened fire upon a patch of air before him that suddenly shimmered and shifted like a heat wave; where normal bullets would have glanced off, the Sacreds pierced through the planes of reality and instinctual spell weaving, hitting his unseen opponent and drawing its fair share in otherworldly screams. By the time the shroud of invisibility melted away to reveal the wounded beast beneath, one gun was back in its holster, replaced with a wickedly fashioned knife that glowed under the Peshmerga’s fingers.

A stab to the head was what ended it; the final shriek ended in a sickening gurgle, and black, brackish blood showered into the air, scattering the dust motes that danced in the frayed sunbeams filtering in from the shattered windows. Rethe stepped away from the Daemon as it fell, dead before it even hit the ground. He hadn’t expected to feel that good about using a mage-slaying dagger. The spirits hadn’t been receptive to it after all.

Will-o-the-wisps around him again, prettier than dust motes and more brilliant than several hundred mini rainbows. They were hungry, and he was only way by which they could taste the sweetness of life again. Years ago, Rethe had denied them. At present, he acknowledged their need and turned it into his wanting.

He raised the knife — coated in a monster’s blood — to his lips.

* * *

...And there you have it, folks.

C&C, please?