What day is it now?

[jmtorres]

Nearly had a screaming meltdown on--late Friday night, early Saturday morning? I think? I've been at niqaeli's since then, aside from a brief run by my house for textbooks. I should probably think about going home. I have a small spot of homework to do in the next twelve hours, and I'm thinking about sleeping.

I want to be creative. I fired up Final Cut but that didn't really go anywhere; I opened up googledocs and thought about writing Sanctuary fic--I'm all caught up and have this ridiculously detailed plotbunny in my head about the intersection of the sexcapades of Helen Magnus and Vampire Nikola Tesla (with other people) that I'm actually kind of ashamed of, oh my god, the things that live in my head, I don't even.

But what came out was more Echo Bazaar fic. I'm sort of... I don't even know, this fic can't decide whether it wants to be game-play fic or narrative fic. At least it's settled on first-person for the narrative sections.

There's a few things I could tell you about myself: that I'm a singer in a music hall, that yes, it's the kind of singing where I don't wear very much yet the feathered fans keep you from seeing very much, but no, it's not the kind of singing where you get to follow scarlet stockings to the back room after. I could tell you that I have a flat in Spite, over a smoky tavern a few streets away from where I sing, that I have a battered grey overcoat I wear to walk between, which had a few slippery bits of deep amber in the left-hand pocket when I bought it and made me wonder if it was cursed or haunted like Fourth City rags, because usually people will shake these things out and strip them for everything they're worth before selling them on, unless something's wrong that they don't want to touch. It's never brought me anything but luck, though, and the amber was worth a few rats on a string in rough times.

Or I could tell you other things about myself, like that my Connected: Bohemian is almost as high as my Connected: Criminals, even though I'm shockingly Austere, which keeps my Scandal down, that I have Nightmares about Death by Water so I keep a Cheerful Goldfish and drink far too much of F.F. Gebrandt's Superior Laudanum.

What kind of story would you rather hear?

I really want to have some art in the story, it feels wrong not to have art in Echo Bazaar fic. I sent a message to someone asking if I could use some of the beautiful stuff I've seen go by on my droll (*waves*), I sort of flailed and dorked around incoherently a lot so you know, hopefully I don't come off as completely illiterate. *facepalm*

Comments

[outlineofash]

"hopefully I don't come off as completely illiterate."

Haha, not at all. Though I replied to your message before my coffee, so I may have come off as completely incoherent. XD

[jmtorres]

One worries about these things!

Bwah, your icon.

*bouncybouncybouncy*

At some point I will come down off my cloud. Probably not soon.