(no subject)
Sad lack of actual fic thwarts vague desire to throw name in feedback meme.
Blah blah distractability disclaimer; drabble prompts? As detailed or un- as you like - if you know I've seen/read something, I'll probably give it a whack.
(Though I'm feeling kind of contrary, so perversion of prompts may or may not be expected.)
PEE ESS, is LJ crapping out on comment alerts for anyone else? Quel ennui.
Blah blah distractability disclaimer; drabble prompts? As detailed or un- as you like - if you know I've seen/read something, I'll probably give it a whack.
(Though I'm feeling kind of contrary, so perversion of prompts may or may not be expected.)
PEE ESS, is LJ crapping out on comment alerts for anyone else? Quel ennui.
IDK, WHAT.
(And a steady hand worth frak-all if there's not a steady mind behind it; Adama tells her this, rain-tracks on the cockpit glass lining his face with care, and fatherhood.)
And this is the mercy of the gods: if a piece of the puzzle is missing - or warped, from long years of (damp and) disuse, if Pythian Apollo has set a snake in the grass for Eurydice: all is not come to wrack, and ruin.
Round and round, the clouds go, as the snake biting its tail, and Kara Thrace flies up, and up. And as the glass shatters, and as the lightning cracks across the end of the song, Kara Thrace sits up from the tall Caprican grass, wet and green with rain, to the musket-crack of her mother's voice.
"Kara. In from the storm," she says, "you stupid child, and if I even think I see mud - "
Re: IDK, WHAT.
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Yes, I just took this beautiful piece of fiction and turned it into a cat macro. It is beautiful, despite my general incoherence. And I love the way you've made it fit together with that phrase and the shape of the storm and the snakes and the circular destiny. Which is totally what I meant by surpries ouroboros. Yeah.