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First! New icon! =D

Chapter Twenty Six.

Everyone has agreed to the test to see if watching Anita feed the Aduer will make others addicted to the aduer. I'm not really sure how that's a good idea. It's like giving some coke and seeing if they'll get addicted to it because some are addicted to it. I'm sure there's no better way to do it. The morals of this book continue to astound me. Or what morals there are. Which seem to be inverse to the amount of sex there is. Perhaps that's something we should look into at a later point in regarding the overall series.

Legolas?! Aragorn? Is that you?!><br /><br /><br />Continuing on this lack of morality, is this:<br /><br /><blockquote>Part of me hopes that someday I get over being this so damn uncomfortable about group scenes like this; part of me hopes I don't. It's sort of the same part of me that mourns that I can kill without feeling bad about it, most of the time. Yeah, that same part thinks that doing metaphysical sex in front of a bunch of men, for any reason, is just step down the slippery slope to damnation. But if the alternative is having the <i>ardeur</i> go off like a metaphysical bomb during the party tonight, well, what we were about to do was the lesser evils. Just once, couldn't I choose the lesser good?</blockquote><br /><br />Right here we already have proof that Anita's morals have already gone into damnation. There's a perfectly easy way to avoid metaphysically blowing up at the party. Not go. That would easily avoid all of this. But of course that would ruin the plot. And what is the difference between Metaphysical Sex and sex? Is it kinda like the difference between Grail's goddess in the Da Vinci Code? Or is it like Coke and Diet Coke? <br /><br />When you can't have Metaphysical Sex, have sex? <br /><br />You're one calorie short of Metaphysical Sex? <br /><br />Some people feel like Metaphysical Sex, some don't? <br /><br />Okay, I'm beating this into the ground. <br /><br /><br /><br />Metaphysical Sex! It does a body good!<br /><br />And that one didn't even fit in. <br /><br />Back on target. Lack there of? Um... She's already lost what morals she has and everything else is just window dressing. A pretense that she has going on to pretend that she's human. Richard had it wrong earlier. Even though she hasn't shifted, she's still a monster. Worse than him even. The worst thing about it is that she's in utter denial about it. She still thinks she's a good person, even when she's not. <br /><br />Requiem, meanwhile, is acting like a love sick puppy. Actually, worse, because he's worshiping the ground Anita walks on. (And people are actually admitting to it). Oh and by the way, Requiem is a striper. That seems to be the only occupation around, doesn't it? Requiem, also, by the way didn't name himself. He got called Requiem because he's Collapse )
The two brothers came forward into the stronger light near the bed. At first glance they didn't look that alike. They were bot tall and broad-shouldered, but beyond that they were opposites. Wicked's hair was sleek and very blond, cut long so it framed a face that was all high, sculpted cheekbones, complete with a dimple in his chin deep enough that I could never decide if it looked adorable or painful. His eyes were a clear steady blue, and if I hadn't Jean-Claude's and Requiem's eyes to compare him to, I'd have said his eyes were striking. He wore a modern tailored suit of tans and creams that made him look halfway between the college professor of your dreams and an executive gigolo. Then there was Truth.

Truth had obviously slept in his clothes. The clothes were made up of bits of leather, but not fashionable club wear, no, more like boiled leather worn smooth and soft with use and wear. His pants were tucked into boots so battered that Jean-Claude had offered to replace them, but Truth wouldn't give them up. He could have been dressed for any century from, thirteenth to fifteenth. His straight brown hair was shoulder length, but stringy, as if it needed a good brushing. He didn't exactly have a beard, just stubble, as if he hadn't shaved for a while. But under all that disarray was the same bone structure, the same cleft chin, and the same blue eyes. Wicked's eyes always seemed to hold a cynical joy, but Truth's looked tired and wary, as if he was just waiting for us to disappoint him.

I'm seeing Legolas and Aragorn here. The pair of them first appear in Incubus Dreams which was published in 2004. Return of the King was in theaters in 2003. Fellowship of the Ring came out in 2001. I believe that there's plenty of time there for Hamilton to make some Aragorn/Legolas rip-offs.

And that's just... beyond special, now that I think about it. Also, I don't know if the brothers are twins are not, but I don't see why they have to be such physical opposites. Now, I admit to having Trever and Kale dress alike when they're identical twins, but they're doing it for a reason. When they're just hanging out they dress differently, but not to such extremes. I think they're supposed to be twins, because she keeps on insisting that they're identical looking, despite appearances.

While I'm on it, what is with the vampires not having any fashion sense? Just... it's dumb.

After playing some word games (they ask Anita what she wants to do with Requiem and she says having him be free of her which they take to mean send him away) they ask her why having him so bespelled is so bad.

"My stomach clenched tight. The thought of anyone being bound to anyone else like that was wrong; that I'd done it by accident made me vaguely nauseous." But she doesn't at all seem to mind that Auggie might have the same issues. He's not even brought up.

She asks Requiem to break free, in like one of those scenes in movies were the possessed person is being asked to remember who they are and break free from their chains of binding or something.

Still more wandering around when they get back to the idea of using Anita's powers to break the spell. After some more chatter they decided that Requiem needs to feed on blood as well as the sex pollen. This will create the necessary tie for Anita to use her powers to break him... I think.

And the chapter ends with London, Legolas and Aragorn being skeptical of Anita doing what she says she's going to do as she promises to do it.
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I miss Maelor.
Current Mood:
discontent discontent
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She went to the beach because it was a warm and breezy day wearing loose clothes that blew out in the wind. Her feet were bare and she pranced along in the sand spinning and twirling and crying out to the gulls. Bloby followed her along, as a humming bird, zipping around her as she spun.

She felt as flighty as a feather, wanting to drift up into the sky and go where ever the wind took her. She wanted to fly. But she couldn't. Her feet were as attached to the ground as gravity kept its hold.

So she did the next best thing, she lept and jumped and twirled as well as she could. Laughing into the wind.

Current Location:
The beach
Current Mood:
cheerful cheerful
Current Music:
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I haven't updated this in a while. Nothing has happened. I wish something would happen. Something wonderful and exciting like. With laughter and spinning. Sunshine and cherries and wonderful warm good stuff. Long walks on the beach with tiny sand crabs and salt in the air, swinging and dancing and twirling and laughing and jumping and wheeee! Let's go chase the birds!
Current Mood:
energetic energetic
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“Ah, you speak. Excellent,” he said, “However, your response leaves much to be desired.” The stranger glowered at him, but didn’t respond. “I could just leave you here alone, in the snow, tied up, and go and search for a way back myself, but I think your help would be much more appreciated.” The stranger studied him, as if trying to determine how truthful Legolas was being. Legolas let him get a good look before standing up and walking towards his horse.
He heard a struggling noise and then, “Only the Queen can find another way on purpose.” The stranger called out.
Legolas turned and looked back at him. “Is that truth?”
“Yes, it is!” he said earnestly.
“Well then, it looks like you are going to take me to your Queen.”

Not trusting the stranger, Legolas kept him bound and put him on his own horse. The stranger’s horse he led himself, as it wasn’t sound to ride. He walked next to his horse, occasionally patting it and talking to it in Sidarin. The way that the stranger pointed out seemed to be no different than any other place. All was a plain snowy white broken with the black of wet rocks and dead trees.
Walking lightly on the snow after a time, Legolas asked his captive. “Do you have a name?”
“Falinor.” The other said after looking at him startled. “You?”
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I think I need a sex life.

It seems like everyone has one. I'd like to see what I'm missing.

That sounds really horrible, doesn't it? I think I'm just a bit too lonely.

Current Mood:
lonely lonely
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Despite the season, the weather was rather warm. It could be because of authorial intent or it could have been just the location. Most likely the location, because it was similar to where Kippur had grown up, close to the sea and warm all year round. She didn't think that she could handle snow, except to visit. Snow was something Alec could deal with, so where he lived was trapped in a deep winter. Yet, where Kippur had her little house, it was nice and warm. A blamy eighty degrees.

In little to nothing... well not really, but in a tank top and shorts Kippur hummed merrily as she painted the side of her house. She wasn't painting it any one color but a multitude of colors like one giant rainbow mosaic. It was fun.

Current Mood:
artistic artistic
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Well that went well. Stupid people and their stupid stupid stuff. ... Hah. That was coherent. Eeeeh... whatever.
Current Mood:
blah blah
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Well that went well.
Current Mood:
blank blank
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Eeeeee! Flowers! He got me flowers! EEeeee! I never got flowers before!
Current Mood:
loved loved
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