curious_nico

WEFT! LOOKIT! :D

Sat, 06 Mar 2010 00:03:24 GMT

http://www.snorgtees.com/mixedmartialartsandcrafts-p-541.html

Tue, 02 Mar 2010 16:47:50 GMT

Today is a day to curl up in a quiet, dimly lit room, and see how much mulled wine I can sip before I fall asleep.

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 21:06:08 GMT

I wonder if asking them, "hedge trimmers, do you mean tools or personell?" would be a good idea.
Not right now, anyway.

Suitov!

Wed, 20 Jan 2010 19:11:36 GMT

You want to see this, I'm quite sure! :D

Random thought at reading...

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 15:44:29 GMT

Lead off to sex scene: "do you have something in your tent that needs assassinating?"

That would certainly lead to a bang if I were on the receiving end, provided I had a gun at hand.

(found here)

My writer has been watching Firefly.

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 08:58:48 GMT

The theme song bothers me. I mean, here:

Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me

What stupid kind of challenge is that? If the one being addressed really wants the singer miserable, they can lock them in a lightless dungeon, and that was that with "free" and "sky".

And

Burn the land and boil the sea

sounds pretty disgustingly selfish, given that that will likely affect a few more people.

meh.

quoted lyrics by Joss Whedon

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 18:03:08 GMT

I wonder if poking around in a community full of vampires is a good idea. But I'm kinda antsy these days, and I worry my writer locks me in a closet if I run around in small circles too much.

Due to current un-events...

Fri, 11 Sep 2009 11:10:39 GMT

Improvised weapons

Note the ~~holy symbol~~ wooden cross.

Sun, 24 May 2009 19:14:27 GMT

So, my author may have caught a microfiction (or whatever you call it) bug from beccastareyes, and suggested this to be posted here. Well, why not.

When she woke up, Nico muzzily took stock of her surroundings. Concrete floor and a thin blanket, moist and cool air, second or third hand light. She had no idea where this place was.

However, she recognised Daaren. He lay dozing on a bench nearby, one arm dangling. Seeing him that relaxed calmed her; it meant that they were perfectly safe. Unless he was drugged to the eyeballs.

Because sheeple follow doggies.

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 14:43:33 GMT

Dial Down the Nico.

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... HEY!?

You sure can try, if you find a method that works is another matter. >:P

hmm...

Sweet as the Moment When the Suitov Went "Pop"

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The fun part is that each of 'em was the first for the given name.
Another good one was "It's not TV. It's Suitov." - more on the "wishful thinking" trail, right now, I guess.

Basaltine: The Other White Meat.

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Clicked too fast to copy, but there were "Only Weft has the answer" and "Obey your Weft".

If You Like A Lot of Chocolate on Your Weft, Join Our Club.

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- he would probably at least want to kill all members, I suspect.

Wed, 04 Feb 2009 12:55:49 GMT

This would make a perfect gift for Weft

As to the new board...

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 18:10:33 GMT

Lines that unfortunately were not used include

"It would look better shoved up the arse of the idiot who designed it."
"It's the bling talking." (deadpan delivery from Daaren <3)
"Shut up, Weft, the voice in my head is trying to tell me something."

Correction and tangent

Tue, 06 Jan 2009 22:43:55 GMT

Whatever hellmutt thinks, and whatever I might have in common with a certain half-elf, I'm not a habitual felon.

I mean, fake papers, sure, sometimes neccessary, or the occasional petty theft... But break-ins and burglaries are few and far between. The last time was a lifetime ago, and anyway it wasn't much of a break-in, and it wasn't much of a theft, either, considering it was my stuff to begin with, right?

In case that made anyone curious, beginning closer to the beginning. One of those pre-industrial corners, and I was stopping in a tiny village, on the way to a bigger town, looking forward to get there. There was a bit of a chat, and a bit or cidre, and a bit of an argument, not sure what about anymore, but apparently the guy I called an idiot was both the village chief and a bit of a sourpot.

So what happened is that they ran me out of the village, but only after they gagged me, 'cause I talked too much, tied my hands behind my back, presumably so I wouldn't get rid of the gag too quickly, and kept my boots, presumably because they were a good fit for the chief's kid.

They didn't chase me very far, and didn't throw stones at me, or had very poor aim, so, anyway, pretty soon I got off the path for a bit of privacy to wiggle out of the ropes and such. Honestly, if that had been all, I'd have brushed it off and just gone on barefoot for now, because I was really looking forward to going elsewhere, but of course they'd also kept everything else but the clothes on my back - coat, bag, knife, money, everything - and that was a bit much.

at because I was really looking forward to going elsewhere

So what I did was sneak back. I don't want to talk about the details, because it involves crawling through thorn hedges, and lots of tedious waiting and slow going and having to concentrate on not starting to hum tunes, but I should probably be glad they didn't have watch dogs.

When everyone was asleep, as far as I could tell, breaking into the chief's house, was ridiculously simple, to the point that I think I'm stretching the definition, because it was a warm summer night and the shutters, meaning windows, were open. In hindsight maybe I should have tried the door first. At that point I was really wishing Daaren was there, because I can't see that well at night.

So what I did, after a nap, was sneak back. I don't want to talk about the details, because it involves crawling through thorn hedges, going reeeeaaally slowly, having to concentrate on not starting to hum tunes, but I should probably be glad they didn't have watch dogs.

When everyone was, as far as I could tell, asleep, breaking into the chief's house was ridiculously simple, to the point that I think I'm stretching the definition, because it was a warm summer night and the shutters, meaning windows, were open. In hindsight maybe I should have tried the door first. At that point I was really wishing Daaren was there, because I can't see that well at night.

Well, all things considered, I got lucky. A handful of my effects, the odd stuff I keep for memorabilia or trading, was still on the table, and my bag was leaning against a clothes chest - I wouldn't have liked that cracked, dusty thing in with my clean laundry either, I just put my clothes inside it. My not-so-very-clean change of clothes had been put away, though. Rifling through things with a family gently snoring on is not exactly my idea of fun, but my stuff was on top; I recognised it by feel.

A few ideas for a little payback were running through my head, but what with five people to two beds in one room, that wasn't exactly an ideal setup for any prank I could think of.

My boots I found standing next to the door, and, yep, there was the short coat right above it. What I hadn't found yet was my money, but, frankly, I didn't want to stumble around in the dark longer and risk waking up anyone so I'd have to to fight or run. Getting hungry and with that rather jittery didn't help, so I called it a night. Walked out through the front door, and left it open; I like to think a cat got in and marked the table as their property or something like that, but I never heard anything.

The thorn in my left foot stayed there until morning, and morning it was, too, before I noticed I'd taken someone else's coat, but I was thoroughly sick of the place, and opted to put a bigger distance between it and myself.

Sorry to disappoint, folks.

Passing on a link...

Thu, 04 Dec 2008 07:14:27 GMT

This may be up Weft's alley, sort of

Well, yay. -_-

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 14:38:29 GMT

My writer thinks I need to get into at least minor to mediocre trouble because I'm too trusting.

*sigh*

Well, I can't argue with the idea that being too trusting can lead to trouble.

Chatlog found as autosaved draft...

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 12:26:30 GMT

Anke: I got the impression a lot of ficcers work on the basis of "the more they hate each other, the better they're suited for hot sex"-basis
Mutt: Yes, with fanfic revolving around ships, that's the impression I have too.
Oh god. Suitov/Tortile. Oh god.
Anke: For Science!
Mutt: And great justice!
Mutt: Suitov says even science couldn't make that kit look attractive.
I think he's just being coy.
Anke: *cackles*
Mutt: Sebbie/Injustice?
Sebbie/All Aristocrats?
Anke: *shrugs*
Mutt: Sebbie/Murders not committed by Sebbie!
Anke: XD
...or by his friends
Mutt: Or some of them, at any rate. I'm not sure how he feels about Weft's job.
If Sylvie or Nico iced someone, I'm sure he'd agree they needed to be iced.
Anke: XD
Mutt: So... Helmine/everyone less intelligent than Helmine, hence everyone?
Nico/boredom...
Anke: Sylvie/her father. It breaks the brain.
Mutt: Eeeew. I was going to suggest Sylvie/leafrot.
Sylvie: :P

My writer compels me, for the sake of completeness, to add that of the Pro characters I can think of, the ones I loathe most are vampire!Rige and Caliban. I don't like vampires to start with, and those two, ech...
Not taking Cornelius into account, because he's in this head, too, and I know exactly he's so poorly defined at the moment that he doesn't really qualify as a character.

Languages are funny.

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 11:02:19 GMT

What with the "sheriff" word there

Assuming I didn't encounter the word in a context but "someone in charge of a/the colony", I am translating it in my head with "governor", not "sheriff".

Also, I couldn't say "zoo animals" if I hadn't heard "zoo" in Instarrian, which somehow seems unlikely after that comment.

His motive?

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 20:58:13 GMT

Well, he may have been just bored.

Just for the record...

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 12:52:16 GMT

I did not corner him, he snuck behind me.

Also, "our alien friends" is a diplomat's phrase if I ever heard one.

OOCly, if this guy turns out to be any other than Tortile, my writer and I will be very surprised. If it is Tortile, and I end up liking him, we'll be very amused.

Ninjamonkie...

Mon, 20 Oct 2008 18:55:56 GMT

I wonder how aggravating this guy will be.

What a stupid showoff. *hiss*

A question and an image

Sat, 18 Oct 2008 19:20:46 GMT

OK, friends, Sylvie needs a journal of her own, too. Any suggestions for a username?

Otherwise, I have been drawn.

Anke meant the outfit to include spats over nondescript shoes, but nothing speaks against changing things around a bit. :)

Chatbits

Sat, 18 Oct 2008 18:31:26 GMT

* Anke looks at the marshal's baton and suddenly has to think of the drawings of carved bones, which to some prehistoric peoples was a sign of leadership, or something like that...
Suitov: Army people are prehistoric, really. It's very funny.
Anke: Well, a baton is practically a stylised club...
Suitov: And "drop and gimme twenty" is scarcely stylised at all from "I grab your throat until you roll over and pee yourself".
Anke: A little less messy, possibly
Suitov: And more intellectually satisfying, as opposed to brutishly satisfying. Still as distasteful.
Suitov: If I lived in your era, I'd be - in the chess club. Editor of the school magazine. Head of the drama society. Picked second last for cricket and rugger, just ahead of the asthmatic girl in bottle-end glasses. But I live in my own context, and I'm employing what are essentially Phys Ed teachers to shout my troops into order. If you don't find that boggling, you're stronger-minded than I.

I like him. He's funny in a not-so-silly way. He also makes sense.

Well, hello.

Sat, 18 Oct 2008 12:17:41 GMT

MyCreator/owner/typist kept having to write my comments from her account, and decided to make one for me.

Yay! ^_^