*sigh* ~ and a Friday meme

[rhienelleth]

So there's been another LJ kerfluffle in fandom.  As with before, I am not willing to migrate when I am not the least convinced that anywhere else is going to act any better.  I have a permanent account here, and two others besides.  Should all of my f-list and fandom move somewhere else en masse, I'm sure I'll follow.  But barring something that drastic, I'm staying where I've been for the past four years.  In the meantime, I'm going to d/l an app to backup this journal somewhere else, as a precaution. 

And that's all I'm saying on that, at least for now.

So, at Faerieworlds, I've basically discovered that the woman who's store was supposed to be carrying my jewelry never even bothered to put out my masks/crowns or L's and my corsets we were trying to sell.  She said she did, but that "by Sunday, no one was really buying anything" and there was a lot of shifting of eyes/feet and guilty body language going on during the conversation.  Call it a very strong impression that she was lying.  L and I talked, and decided we need to build a website.  My jewelry, our costumes/corsets.  We'll put everything under the Byzantium Lotus name.  This will take time to implement, but it's where we're heading.

Speaking of jewelry, now that Mark's brother is gone back to the land of sun and unspeakable summer heat (TX), I'm back to working on the Bobbles.  (No, I had not forgotten!)  Will update progress/get finished ones in the mail as of Monday.  (Yay!)

It's Friday, and rather than being jazzed and excited that the weekend is finally here, I am instead lethargic and tired for no apparent reason.  Huh. 

There's some meme thing going around where you're supposed to quote snippets from all the WIPs currently on your HD, but I'm too apathetic today to go looking for it and make sure I've got the rules right.  All right, I guess I'm not that apathetic after all ~ 

When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.

1. Astarte (The Mummy/The Mummy Returns)

Moments later, two men came into the room, weapons in hand, and worry writ on their faces.  Warriors.  Astarte was delighted. 

More words were exchanged, and as the three spoke among themselves, she began to understand them.  One of the men wanted to know who she was, but the other already knew.  His dark gaze had not left her face since he’d entered the room.  She saw the symbols etched upon his skin and knew that the slaves had not risen against their masters after all.  If Pharaoh’s warriors still existed, than it did not seem that much had changed.

“Astarte,” he said, still looking at her, “Goddess of War.”  She inclined her head in acknowledgment of this fact.

“Medjai,” she answered. 

“Wait,” said the woman with her rather curious accent, “how could you possibly know that, Ardeth?”

“He is Medjai,” said Astarte before he could reply.  “He would know me whatever guise I wore.”  She raised one raven brow, looking at the woman, ‘Evie’, she’d been called.  “As should you, who woke me from my long sleep, if I am not mistaken.  Woman, warrior, lover, mother.”

Evie was nodding now, as if everything was starting to make sense to her.  “I understand.”

“You do?” asked the man still gripping her arm.  “Good.  Maybe you can explain it to me, then.”

“Astarte was not just a Goddess of war, but also of love and fertility.”  She cast a glance at Astarte herself.  “Is that not correct?”

“Indeed it is.  I am gratified that I have not been entirely forgotten during my long imprisonment.”

“Imprisonment?” echoed the man.  “No disrespect, lady, but just what were imprisoned for?”

“O’Connell.”  The Medjai reached out and placed a warning hand on the other man’s arm.  He was watching her warily, and Astarte knew her face showed her rage.  She could not think of what Seth had done to her without it.  “It is best not to insult the gods,” he warned his friend softly, “even if you profess not to believe in them.”

“Oh, I believe, all right,” O’Connell said.  “I’ve seen a bit too much come out of tombs and boxes buried in this country to not believe.  But in my experience, nothing good ever comes of…”

“Reading a book?” asked Evie archly.  She gestured to one side.  “Or in this case, a scroll?” 

He looked at her in horror.  “You read a scroll?  Out loud?  Evie…”

2. Nemesis (The new novel)

Reaper, it’s Mercy.  We’re trying to locate you and bring you back to the Typhus.

For a long, endless moment, she thought he wasn’t going to respond, that maybe he hadn’t heard her; she didn’t exactly have a lot of practice communicating this way.  Maybe she’d failed at it.  Then, finally, she felt the connection solidify, like static on a com channel suddenly fading and becoming clear.

Took you long enough.

Yeah, well, you weren’t exactly easy to find, she countered.

Irritated, he was definitely irritated.  But underneath that, she could sense another thought, relief that she had found them, and worry for his men.  None for himself that she could detect, but definitely for the rest of Black Squadron.  And then, as though he’d sensed her going farther into his thoughts than he’d intended, she felt nothing at all from him, those walls coming up as they had before, though not quite so solidly.  The connection was still there, but she no longer sensed anything but thoughts he specifically directed at her.

Are you going to give Typhus our coordinates, he asked acerbically, or wait until you’re as stranded as we are?

Of course I am, she snapped back, affronted by his tone.  Talk about a lack of gratitude.

I’ll be grateful when you’ve actually succeeded in getting us rescued.

3. Return (Syd/Sark, Alias, Illusions-verse)

A wash of pale light spread out into the hallway, the only glimmer in the darkness.  She’d forgotten to glance at the alarm clock in the bedroom, but she’d guess the time to be anywhere from midnight to three in the morning – deep night.  Sark evidently hadn’t wanted to disturb her. 

 She rounded the corner, and he was sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.  The light above the stove was on, casting shadows over the line of his shoulders, brightening his sleep rumpled hair to spun gold.  He looked…defeated.  It hit her with a jolt.  In all the time she’d known Sark, she’d never seen him like this, almost…vulnerable.  A chill swept her. 

 She walked in without saying anything, and sat down across from him, setting her SIG on the table.  For a long moment, he didn’t move or look up.  Then he lowered his hands, and slumped back away from the table.   

 “Sorry,” he muttered, not quite meeting her eyes, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

 She leaned forward, elbows on the table.

 “What is it?” she asked quietly.

There're probably more at home, but that's it for my flash drive and unfinished WIPs.

Comments

[shellyinseattle.livejournal.com]

Hey backing up the LJ account sounds neat. What have you got that backs up LJ? Is it something that will format it into a printable form? I've manually transferred Heidi's LJ stuff into a word doc, but it takes some times to do.

Also, I haven't forgotten about the color BL logo. Wolf has just pushed lots of calligraphy on me for King of the Ghouls. Do you have a deadline for the color logo like you did for the fairy fest before your carpel tunnel kicked in?

[rhienelleth.livejournal.com]

I haven't tried it yet, but I'm planning on implementing a method I've linked to in comments below. Hopefully this weekend sometime. One of them may work for what you want.

No problem on the BL logo. And no rush. :)

[stephdub.livejournal.com]

Speaking of bobbles, I FINALLY finished yours, so if you could please email me your address I will send it off. stephaniewatson at gmail dot com.

[rhienelleth.livejournal.com]

I think there is...I haven't yet inestigated fully how I'm going to go about this.

[kistha.livejournal.com]

I'm so not a fan-fic girl, unless apparently you are involved.

He looked at her in horror. “You read a scroll? Out loud? Evie…”

Is really, just to perfect for words.

What Astarte is doing in Egypt, I'm not sure I want to know.

[rhienelleth.livejournal.com]

Hee. I really enjoyed writing those characters, but the fic ended up being this uge story that would've taken too much time away from the novel to write. So it languishes, unfinished.

I'm so not a fan-fic girl, unless apparently you are involved.

THAT is one of the best compliments ever! :-D

[tinny]

If you manage to backup your whole journal (including the protected posts), could you let me know how?

I tried the Firefox HTTrack plugin Spiderzilla, but it isn't updated anymore and last time I tried it didn't work. HTTrack itself would do what I need, but the login to lj doesn't work. :( I admit I haven't tried it in... half a year or so.

What tool are you using?

[rhienelleth.livejournal.com]

I haven't tried it yet, but I plan on using Method 2 depicted here. I'll let you know how it goes. :)

[tinny]

Thanks a lot!

I didn't try it yet, I was discouraged by all the constraints (no comments, no friendslocked/private posts, no tags).

I really should try again, though, because this first try was very frustrating. :(

[rhienelleth.livejournal.com]

Yeah, it sucks that it doesn't d/l and/or transfer comments and tags, but it did all of my f-locked stuff without any issues, and since I'm only using GJ and IJ as back-ups and hoping to keep my LJ permanently...I figure it works well enough.

Maybe someone will come up with a tool that will transfer everything, eventually.