wordinista | "It tastes like burning!"

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"It tastes like burning!"

Okay, so you know how something will happen, and it'll annoy you, but you won't think too much about it, and then a few weeks later it happens again, and you realize that it's something that should have freaked you the hell out?

Yeah. That was me, yesterday.

A few weeks back, I'd noticed this funky, burny type smell, and after a search of a few rooms, I discovered (or so I thought) that it was the corpse of a spider unlucky enough to kick the bucket in our ceiling dome light. I turned off the light (haven't found need to use it since) and thought nothing more of it.

Fast forward to yesterday. I was sitting at my desk in the office, printing out a few things for my marketing class. As I'm sitting there, I smell a weird burny smell (though different from the burny smell a few weeks back), and I do a search around the room. I realize it could be dust burning off a lightbulb, or dust burning off a monitor, or what have you. But I couldn't find the source. So, on a whim, I looked at the outlet behind my desk. Plugged in to that outlet I have one UPS that carries my computer, monitor, and printer, and another plug that... okay, I don't remember exactly what that plug runs to. Doesn't really matter.

Top plug is partway out of the socket.

"Hmm, that's odd," I say to myself. So I push it back in, like you do.

Enter sparks. Blue ones. Orange ones too, which, you know, to me? MEANS FIRE. Out comes the plug. Sparks don't stop. Out comes the OTHER plug. Bunneh sits on her floor watching the outlet like a hawk, taking comfort in the fact that the wall isn't hot. (The outlet's faceplate, on the other hand, was hot as hell. But the wall itself wasn't hot.)

Insert a frantic call to landlord here.

Insert a frantic call to teh boi here.

Every damned thing in the room gets powered down and/or unplugged. As I'm sitting on the floor again, watching the outlet to make sure nothing bursts into flames (no, really), I realize that there's another strange burny smell in the office. A smell that, interestingly enough, I can identify. It smells like burnt spider (or, rather, what I thought was burnt spider).

Nice.

Needless to say, I didn't go to class last night, because when your hands are shaking and you're hyperventilating, driving doesn't seem to be high on the list of Smart Things To Do. I have spoken with the landlord, who basically told me to call whatever electrician I wanted. I have a number of one to call tomorrow. Until then, I've got my own Mission Control set up in the living room.

Really, fire is one of those things that seriously freaks me out. Some of my worst, most vivid childhood nightmares involve being trapped in a burning house/car/building. In fact, there's one that's stuck with me ever since I was four or five -- I used to have an electric blanket (b/c we lived in NH where it gets verreh cold), and I remember dreaming that the blanket caught fire while it was wrapped around me. So, yeah. Healthy fear of electrical fires instilled at an early age. (I also have a crazy fear of grease fires, which is why I very seldom ever fry anything.)

Of course, since yesterday, I've been peering at all of the OTHER sockets and sniffing the air to make sure nothing smells like burnt spider.

There are a few memes out there that I want to do, and they've been stolen from various people. Hopefully I can keep them all straight:

From

smtfhw --Post a favourite poem when you see this!

"Kubla Khan," by Samuel Taylor Coleridge -- I don't know what it is about this poem I love so much, but it's just so gorgeous to the ear. I love reading it out loud and just listening to the way the words sound. I also love "Christabel" and "Rime of the Ancient Mariner," both by Coleridge. But this one... this one is my favorite.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced : Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean : And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war !: The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !: A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

*content sigh* Okay, now onward with meme-age:

This one I've wanted to do for a while, and both mscongeniality and darth_snuggles have done it:

Name a pairing or character (that I'm familiar with, in a fandom I'm familiar with) and I will write one line of a story for it. However, like DS, I reserve the right to write more if inspired. :D

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Name a pairing or character (that I'm familiar with, in a fandom I'm familiar with) and I will write one line of a story for it.

Furuba, Ayame/anyone. :)

Okaaay. *cracks knuckles*

Regret is an ugly thing, and for one so accustomed -- so deserving -- of beauty, it is a hideous ghost that haunts me mercilessly; my affection for my brother is genuine (for one such as I am incapable of manufacturing anything as gauche as false emotions), as are my attempts to gain his... well, if not his forgiveness then something enough like forgiveness, I hope.

Good Gamabunta... the spiders have it out for you, Bunneh.

*cuddles and loves*

*wraps Bunneh up in a non-electric, but supremely nice and marshmellow-y blanket*

*cuddles the blanket and teh puppeh*

Thing is, I'm not so sure the smell is burnt spider anymore. I'm wondering if the first time I smelled it, it was actually something SIMILAR to what happened the other day. I'm wondering how close we came to an electrical fire then. Yeesh.

Well, I'm calling the electrician today, right after I've finished my tea. Hopefully he can get out here soon and it will cost less than the eight-thousand dollars it cost in the dream I had last night. *rolls eyes*

I've been woken up more than once by a really bad burning smell. I never figured out what it was... but I'm hoping it's not a burning spider in the ceiling fixtures... *eyes them warily*

Glad to hear you didn't catch fire! Burning bunnehs smell!

-Keely

Well, let's put it this way, if it WAS a burnt spider smell, then OMG it's one of the most disgusting smells out there. Almost like burnt plastic, but somehow... more organic. *shudder*

OMGHATESPIDERS.

Way to teach the spiders though, I always wondered if the dracula approach of all the dead spider corpses on tooth picks around the house would warn them off. Maybe I just need to introduce them to electrical current.

And since I just got done looking at chapter 116 of the manga how about a Momiji and Tohru line?

*snerk* Rhoda the ArachnImpaler

Anyway. Right. Hmm. Momiji and Tohru. (You're lucky I've seen that chapter!)

Uh... Chapter 116 spoilers, for anyone ELSE who may be reading this.

*spoilerspace*

*spoilerspace*

*spoilerspace*

The blond boy -- he could no longer think of himself as the Rabbit, never again the Rabbit -- looked at Tohru, trying so hard to ignore the tightness in his chest; the thoughts in his head were all jumbled: he couldn't understand why he'd been chosen, why he'd been released, when there were others in the Juunishi who were, in Momiji's opinion, even more deserving, and for as happy as Tohru was (and he could see that she was happy, despite the tears clinging to her lashes), Momiji could only think of how much happier she would have been if it had been someone else standing before her right now -- and, oddly, the knowledge of this didn't bother Momiji too terribly; in fact, if it had been within his power, he would have given up this new, lonely freedom and given it to someone else, just to make her that much happier.

(Woooo, run-on sentence! But it's one sentence!)

Oh man, You ROCK! That is sweet! And so in character, How I love the bunny, who he shall always be curse or no curse. Of course now we can all cuddle him as much as we want. I think it is sad that the happiest member is now the most lost. But I have hopes for what will come of it.

YAY! you like it!! Looking back, I should have just made this into a drabble instead of trying to stick to the "one sentence" rule. Don't be surprised if I rewrite it AS a drabble. ;)

nope, won't suprise me. All us bunnies need to stick together.

The blond boy -- he could no longer think of himself as the Rabbit, never again the Rabbit -- looked at Tohru, trying so hard to ignore the tightness in his chest. He said her name with the same smile he always had, the same affection he'd had for her since their first meeting. He still laughed a little at that -- he could only imagine what his first impression had been on her. Candy wrappers everywhere as he spouted German at her...

He shook his head quickly; his thoughts were all jumbled now. He couldn't understand why he'd been chosen, why he'd been released, when there were others in the Juunishi who were, in Momiji's opinion, even more deserving. Who was to say that someone like Ha'ri wasn't more deserving, or Shii-chan, or Haru, or even Yuki or Kyou.

He sighed a little, and there was a reluctant sadness in that sigh. Kyou.

Momiji looked at Tohru again, smiling a little -- though, for some reason that smile wasn't as ready, as eager as it had been in the past. Because for as happy as Tohru was (and he could see that she was happy, despite the tears clinging to her lashes), Momiji could only think of how much happier she would have been if it had been someone else standing before her right now, ready to hug her without any transformation. The memory of the Kaibara Cultural Festival came to mind, and he nearly laughed out loud. He'd been younger then, but even at that age, he'd recognized that Tohru was... special, somehow. And he'd recognized that Tohru was particularly special to Kyou -- possibly before Kyou, even.

Momiji had hugged her then -- leapt onto her, actually.

He hugged her again, hard.

I'm sorry, he thought, swallowing hard against the emotion in his throat. I'm sorry it had to be me.

Because Momiji knew that if there were one member of the Juunishi Tohru wanted to hold in her arms, it wasn't him. Oddly, the knowledge of this didn't bother Momiji too terribly. In fact, if it had been within his power, he would have given up this new, lonely freedom and bestowed it on someone else, if only to see the happiness it would have brought her.

Awww, You did it. I so love the fact that Momiji just lives. I mean even when he is lonely and lost he keeps going. Also the whole love struck for Tohru is something I didn't see coming. I mean I know he liked her and such but the feelings he is showing now out strip what I was thinking he felt. He is also such a good person he is always trying to think of others first.

May I just say I hope Akito gets just what they deserve from this. I can't wait for 117!

O.O; Yikes.

Rime of the Ancient Mariner= ♥!!

Umm as far as the fic meme... KagomexInuYasha.

(Yeah, I'm predictable. But despite the multitudes of fic for the pairing, there's still nothing good to read. XD

LOL, it's okay. No one's surprised me yet, really. ;)

*thinks*

Okay.

Acceptance: it was something he never thought himself deserving of, something he'd thought was forever out of his grasp, and nothing had the power to change his mind -- or, at least, that's what he'd believed; never in all of Inuyasha's years would he have thought someone who seemed so... ordinary could make him feel acceptance the way Kagome did -- even if she sometimes made him want to scream, dammit all to the seven hells!

even if she sometimes made him want to scream, dammit all to the seven hells!

HEE. They're so married. >>

Thank you very much. It was very cute. ♥

Dangit, woman, *I* was gonna post Kubla Khan! ;P Ah well, I can always fall back to Poe. ^~

Fear of grease fires = totally sensible. I don't like to deep-fry things either for similar reasons. Also hot grease smoke makes me choke like to dieeee. ~_~

Ugh. Yes, grease smoke is teh yuck. And I also hate the way the smell of fried food sticks to you. I made chicken paragiana last night, and for as little olive oil as I used, the fry-stink was in my hair. XP

I kept thinking, for some reason, that I should post something other than Kubla Khan, but... I just LURVE IT SO MUCH! XD

Nasty! Electrical fires are really not what you need.

Thanks for posting the poem. I haven't read it in years, and I'd forgotten just how wonderful it is. I may now wander off in search of the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, just to complete my day.

LOL -- if Rime wasn't so long, I probably would have posted it.

Her lips were red
Her looks were free
Her locks were yellow gold
Her skin was white as leprosy
The nightmare life-in-death was she
That thicks men's blood with cold!

Best. Description. EVER.

Nyoo! No crispy bunneh! *dives down bunny hole*

LOL! What, crispy bunneh doesn't sound appetizing? ;)

All kidding aside, I'm seriously glad to have caught it before it got Really Bad. I would've left for school, and George wouldn't have come home till nearly two hours after that. And my mother wasn't even home next door, so... *shudder*

But! Electrician will be called, and the matter will be set to rest. :)

Let's see...we've discussed Ayame/Miine, Lord Peter/Harriet, Charles Parker/Lady Mary, Shigure/Akito...and I said I wasn't actually going to ask for any of those because I had already given you the hint. (Though any you wish to tackle will, of course, be welcomed.)

Part of me is itching to make you write Sesshoumaru with someone other than Teles...

I know!

Write me Bunter :)

In all my years, through all I have been fortunate enough to experience while serving his lordship, from serving the Major in Germany to assisting him in any wide and varied number of baffling cases, I have learned to remain unsurprised at my lord's eccentricities; his lordship always has a reason for everything he does (and though it may at times seem madness, there is method to it) -- that said, I confess that retrieving "Cuthbert" from that shrieking harpy's bed not only left me unsurprised, but bloody well pleased.

Yay Bunter!

And Cuthbert! Hee!

Shigure knelt by the futon, watching his God sleep, blissfully unaware of his presence.

Moonlight and shadow played across her delicate features, and as he looked on, his face reflected a myriad of emotions -- devotion and love, certainly (none of the Juunishi could deny their Kami-sama that which she demanded), affection (in his own youth he had cradled her slender, curveless body with fraternal arms), but after a moment, his generous mouth pressed into a hard, uncomprimising line, showing neither love nor affection.

Twined around and running through love and devotion, there was the black thread of resentment and hate. He loved her beyond thought, and hated that he could find no reason to love her. She was brutal, selfish, violent...

Shigure's fingers slid through the soft locks of silky hair, trailing down the side of her face -- a gentle gesture, and one that did not wake her. Downward he continued, until his fingertips brushed her delicate collarbone. The Dog's hand rested there for a moment before slowly creeping upwards, fingers easily spanning across her neck.

Such a slender, pale, lovely neck. So easily broken.

For a moment, it seems as if the Dog could do it -- free himself, and the rest of them, by forsaking their God, by squeezing that delicate neck until the thundering pulse in her body died, taking with it limitless cruelty and abuse.

He wants to. His fingers twitch.

But then, with a sound that is too much like a sob, the Dog pulls his hand away as if burned.

He can't, damn it all -- he can't.

He loves her too much.

Lord Peter Wimsey blinked at his wife, grey eyes registering nothing but pure shock. "You aren't serious."

"Darling," his wife replied, "you are the joker in this family, not I."

"Trust you to call me a fool," he muttered. But there was no malice in his tone; there never was, when he was speaking to her. Besides, his lordship's attention was diverted elsewhere: in his arms he held a small bundle, wrapped in a white blanket. It was the fourth time he'd held such a precious bundle, and the novelty had yet to wear off. But now his silence lasted perhaps longer than even his wife had anticipated.

"Say something, Peter." Harriet paused. "Speak the speech, I pray you," she added drowsily, sinking back against the pillows with a yawn.

"Trippingly on the tongue?" he asked lightly. After a moment, he shook his head. "No, my dear one, I fear you have rendered me quite speechless."

Several minutes passed in this fashion, and when Harriet slipped into a welcome -- and well-deserved -- sleep he handed the bundle off to the nurse.

In the hall, three boys stood sentry, and when their father came out, their cherubic (and yet still somehow mischievous, though his lordship rather supposed that was his fault rather than any doing of their mother's) faces lit up with equal parts anticipation and worry.

Master Bredon, aged seven and, as the eldest, the spokesman for the troop, stepped forward. "Is everything all right, Father?"

The man in question took a seat on the nearby stairs, sinking down with a sigh. "I'm afraid, men, we are quite undone." A heavy silence followed as the three boys exchanged worried looks.

"Are we... quite doomed, Mister Scatterblood?" Bredon asked earnestly.

Lord Peter nodded gravely. "Quite, Cap'en Teach."

"Wh-what is it?" Young Roger ventured, not at all reassured by the events thus far.

"Congratulations, men. You've a sister."

And I've a daughter.

For it was one thing to have in one's life a woman around whose little finger you were happily wound -- to have two such women in one's life was quite another thing entirely.

Great Scott, I'm in it now.

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"It tastes like burning!"

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momiji, revised

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For you, m'lady: Bunter

Re: For you, m'lady: Bunter

Shikito...

And now, Lord Peter/Harriet