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Confessions of a Flipflop Revolutionary
Viva la Revolution!!!
        He meets Jack again in 2859, on a vaguely Slavic colony called "Zlý vlk". It isn’t a strictly important encounter, and really the conflict is easily settled (The Doctor doesn’t kill, but he deals firmly with those who do, because he is no longer a young man; he is running out of mercy, and oh so tired), but afterwards he stays with his friend and shares a few drinks, even though he has two companions (one more impatient and ginger than the other) to return to, and places to go. He can’t stand Jack’s presence for long; He is a fixed point in time, and tingles with a wrong-ness against the Doctor’s sensibilities, regardless of his feelings for the man himself, but it has been so long since he felt her, and the silent weight of her name that hangs between the two of them is worth the discomfort, if only barely.
      “Do you miss her?” Jack asks, because he feels like it needs to be said out loud, and anyway, he’s more perceptive than the Doctor ever gave him credit for. He would have to be an idiot to miss the feeling of melancholy exuding from the tweed-wearing, bow-tie sporting Doctor (Who is sometimes manic, always brilliant, and usually talkative, but rarely happy), and that is one thing that Jack has never been (maybe once, but it was all washed away to the tune of a crooning 40‘s diva, and the lullaby of London being bombed; a baptism by nano-genes, and the Doctor's smile on the day that everyone lived).
      When Jack asks, the Doctor isn’t sure what to say, though his 11th body is more talkative than his 9th, and more impulsive than his 10th. Even so, for a moment after the question is uttered, there is an emptiness inside of him; a grief that seems to be without ending. He wants to say that this regeneration has removed him enough from the memory to allow him to let go; That the pain of losing her belongs to a different man, but though Jack would not contradict his answer, and it would save his pride, they would both see it for a lie, and somehow the Doctor feels that the other man is owed more. He says nothing, but Jack knows, and it is evident in the lines of his face that stiffen, and those that crumble, and those narrowed eyes that stare down into his scotch as if it might cauterize some of his hurt.
      But Jack is never easy, and has never been one to let a person take the easy way out; not really. He owes the Doctor more than that, and besides, he can relate to losing everything, and being forced to move on regardless. The silence stretches out between them, twanging like an over-stressed rubber band, until it drags the grudging words from the Doctor’s tightened throat like pulling teeth.
      “Does it need saying?” The Doctor asks softly, but though he knows that Jack will forgive him almost anything, the other man doesn’t smile, or look away, and there is pained judgment in his eyes.
The 11th face is kinder, and somewhat gentle, even in anger, and he pushes his glass away abruptly, ancient eyes going bruised, and swollen, and tender with hurt that he wishes he could resent. His voice is kindly chiding, and it doesn’t match the hunch of his shoulders, or his tight features, though somehow there is a slight smile on his face, as if he finds something amusing about everything and nothing at once.
      “I see her everywhere, Jack.” The young looking man admits, steepling his fingers, and trying to think about nothing at all, because though anger is easier than grief, he is always a coward, and running is the easiest of all.
Jack is sympathetic. Jack almost always is in matters of emotion, especially when it involves the Doctor; near immortals have to stick together, after all. The former captain finishes his scotch, and swirls the glass, watching cubes of ice clatter in the bottom, and thinks that, like a mirror, the Doctor's hearts have been mended, but they will always hold the spiderweb cracks of her desperate "I love you"; He will remember her until the day he dies, which is a cruelty that should not be wished on anyone who has so long to live.
      “It’s so much easier to try and distract yourself. Easier to try and forget, than to remember something painful. After all the good that you’ve done, it isn’t fair that you should have to carry this burden too.” Jack said, pausing to usher an ice cube into his mouth, which he crunched absently, trying to feel the shape of things, and failing an a typical, fumbling, spectacularly human manner.
      “But life isn’t fair. And if you completely forget the girl who gave everything for you--The girl you love--…Is that really the sort of man you want to be? Because that’s not the sort of man I respect.”
       The 11th Doctor’s chin fell into his palm. “Do you know what 'Zlý vlk' means, Jack?” he asked, in a far away voice, and Jack smiled, even though it wasn’t a very nice one; all teeth, and sharp edges, and something hard behind the skin.
      “How do you think I knew that I’d find you here, Doctor? We’re going to spend eternity, you and I, following the name of a London shop-girl across the stars. And you’re going to do it, because even though you know you’ll never see her again, you can’t give up on her. She never gave up on you.”
      The Doctor leaves without saying goodbye, because Jack is right, and the Doctor knows without a doubt that he will be following Rose Tyler's shadow for the rest of his life, because she is the woman he loves, and the words, scattered through time and space are the only thing left of her.

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I am in: Leaning on this broken fence between past and present tense.
I'm feeling: anxious anxious
I am listening to: She and Him -- Thieves

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You are The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

I'm feeling: creative creative

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I've been watching the seasons of Doctor Who lately, and I find that I'm really liking it (the new series--I haven't seen the old one), except that as an avid Rose/Doctor fan, the seasons beyond the second were a tiny bit depressing for me. But with that said, I've always been a little bit fond of the Doctor's other companions. Jack is awesome, of course, as is Rose, which goes without saying, and Martha was a sweetheart even if she was a little bit misguided, and smitten. Donna Noble rocks my ASS because she's so awesome, and I even enjoy Amy Pond and Rory, although hilariously, in the first episode of the 5th season, the fact that the Doctor was so horrified with Amy's friend Jeff ("Blimey, Jeff. Get a girlfriend."') made me like Jeff a lot more than I might have. Granted, my experience is limited. I even liked Mickey, who started the series as kind of a loser putz. But as much as I'm really, really, really, really trying to LIKE River Song, because of all of the fan-love that she gets, I hate her guts. I sort of expected that this would be the case after perusing all of the Doctor Who fanfiction, and finding her ass stuck in there. And then I watched the episodes, and it made me want to stab myself in the head until I bled to death all over the living room. I seriously can't stand her. There is this element of Mary Sue that's just rage-inducing. "I'm the parfectist woman, I know ur tru naem, lulz, I'm awesum and in the footure we are the hapyist cupple evaaar, lawlawlawlawlawlawlawlawlawlawlawl!"  And just. There are no words for how much I hate this bullshit enough to send me into raving, frothing rants that last forever. I seriously can't stand the sort of woman that she is. I want to light the people who refuse to give me spoilers on fire, and dance around their dead, burning bodies like it's a goddamn ritual feast. I'm also annoyed, because I was really, really liking this new Doctor a lot, and if he's going to be consorting with River Song, I'm very, very upset. My life was so much simpler when I only obsessed over Firefly. Plus, that River was cool.

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I'm feeling: aggravated aggravated

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My pirate name is:

Iron Charity Bonney

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

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I am in: United States, South Dakota, Sioux Falls
I'm feeling: cold cold

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                He doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been good with words, and she always takes everything that he tells her, and turns it around. He’s only 17 (Or maybe 16—God, he feels so much older, as if he’s lived lifetimes), but she makes him feel something burning in the pit of his organs. And when she looks at him with those big, blue eyes, it doesn’t matter that he has a girlfriend (All sharp edges, knives and sarcasm; a tongue that could flay you alive), or that she’s supposed to belong to someone else, because in those moments it feels as if he’s falling. He knows he ought to be afraid; it puts him in her power, and there is a definite stab of fright at the thought of losing himself entirely, but he also knows that he’ll give her anything she wants, if only she would ask.

                He struggles with it; with the things that he can’t say to her, and the feelings he can’t articulate. He knows that she isn’t oblivious, and sees the little looks she gives him, and the gentle brushes of her brown hand against his own pale fingers, but it isn’t enough. His uncle had told him once that actions spoke louder than words, and upon reflection, he agrees; so why is it that his message is unclear? He wants to tell her that he’d die for her, and that he can’t stand the thought of a world without her; that his people, and the welfare of his country pales in comparison to her. He wants to tell her that he would make her his world, if she would only let him.

He wonders if she knows, as she knows so many other things about him; things that he would rather keep secret, and motivations that he tries to obscure (it doesn’t matter, she sees through everything, and he can never lie to her. Not really. He can only hope that she doesn’t look for this particular truth, because as much as he wants to tell her, he can’t bring himself to say that he wants more, and risk the companionship that they have, even if it makes him miserable) he gets the feeling that she knows. Does he imagine the answering spark in her gaze, or the electric thrill of her skin when she touches him, or the soft, fragile ache in his chest when he is close to her?

Every time she comes to visit, she feels the flutter of wings in her rib-cage and the buzz of butterflies along her skin. They burst into flames whenever he smiles, and sometimes, when she’s not in control of her thoughts, she wishes that she could be the cause of that smile, and wake up to it every day. It isn’t practical, and she tells herself that it wouldn’t work, but there is always the stiff ache in her bones when she steps aboard the boat home that feels like longing.

Her head is full of the things that she doesn’t know, and the things that she can’t say, and the feelings that she’s supposed to have, but she can’t help but notice that her relationship with the boy who loves her is like trying to shove a puzzle piece into the wrong slot. Her heart isn’t in it, and she scolds herself; tells herself that this boy is the savior, and why shouldn’t she love him. She wants to love him, but she doesn’t, and she doesn’t know why, and it scares her.

She can’t love the Fire-Lord. It isn’t practical; it will never work, and besides, he has someone else, but nevertheless, she feels a surge of joy whenever he comes to visit, or brings her a firelily in friendship, or makes her laugh. Seeing him with his sharp girlfriend is like prodding a fresh, red bruise, and it aches gently, leaves her loose and swollen, and bitter. She feels ashamed to admit that she covets what belongs to another, but sees no way to change facts; she is irrevocably in love with him.

It starts in little things; a brush of the hand, a gentle smile, murmured comment, but it becomes more; a gentle kiss to his scars (the one on his chest is her favorite, and she considers it hers), a threading of fingers, a tight embrace. In these moments they feel like brands the boundaries that separate them, and if they surge together, trying to erase them, and rewrite their story, is that wrong?

Is it a sin?

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I'm feeling: worried worried

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It's been so long since I updated, that I am literally unfamiliar with the layout of this site. I'm such a flake. Although in honesty, I don't think it matters much; I don't have anything important to say anyway, so really this is just for my own benefit.

When Trueblood first came out, I have to admit that I watched the first several episodes, and then didn't bother with the rest. It was a combination of the hassle of having to find them online, and in good quality. Somehow I just didn't feel up to the bother of it. I'm starting to think though, that maybe my judgment was a little hasty. I've started reading the Sookie Stackhouse Novels, and I have to admit that they're pretty damn good. It makes me want to give the show a second try. I know for a fact that my boyfriend really likes the series, and is even willing to re-watch the first seasons with me. That's an unprecedented occurence; he hates re-watching anything.

I recently watched a really obscure movie about hoodoo that was completely excellent. It stars Kate Hudson as well as Gena Rowlands, John Hurt, Joy Bryant, and Peter Sarsgaard. The cast is, perhaps, not the creme de la creme of actors, but is prestigious enough that I'm surprised that I'd never heard of it before. The movie came out 5 or 6 years ago, and I'd never heard it mentioned until I made an attempt to do some Wikipedia research on the subject of hoodoo, which is a collection of superstitions, and pseudo-religious practices based on religions such as West African and Hatian Vodun and Santeria. Or is at least related to them. Coincidentally, it turns out that Eric Kripke and the writers of Supernatural do their homework. So brownie points for them.

I have a friend who recently discovered Lady Gaga, and I feel kind of bad for being amused about her complete horror in regard to the Alejandro music video. As much as I was disturbed to see men in bowl cuts running around in high-heels, and a woman with an AK-47 bra, I like to think that I didn't react this violently to the somewhat hallucinogenic imagery. The somewhat state-ist portion of my personality hopes that everyone from Texas is this easily upset. Not that I'd want to upset them. That would make me a troll.

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I'm feeling: apathetic apathetic

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Which Alice in Wonderland character are YOU?
created with QuizFarm.com
You scored as The Dormouse

You scored the Dormouse! Always yawning, you like sweet things like jam and treacle and you tell stories that don't always make sense. You are terrified of cats and go mad if one is even mentioned!

The Dormouse


A Playing Card


Mad Hatter


The White Rabbit














Cheshire Cat


Queen of Hearts


Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum


March Hare

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Title: Dragging his Feet.
Author: Flipflopgangsta
Characters: River, Kaylee, Simon, brief mentions of Mal, Zoe, Wash, Jayne, Book and Inara.
Rating: PG-13? For slightly disturbing images.
Fandom: Firefly, Pre-BDM
Words: 430
Summary: When he had found her, he had made a big fuss, and dragged her away crying, from the mess. River found that ironic because now she was the mess, Simon was crying, and she wished that Kaylee would drag him away from the sight of her.
Disclaimer: I pretty much don't own anything, let alone Firefly or Serenity.

Kaylee is sunshine, and light, and the sour-sweet taste of green apples in the fall. She is candy, and kittens, and holidays, happy memories. In some ways River is jealous; wants to be Kaylee instead of River. She wears Kaylee’s clothes, old and cast-off, plays Kaylee’s games, tries to act like her, and watches her, but it’s not the same. She wants to talk like friends with Zoe, and play games with Wash; wants to sit in Inara’s shuttle and let the older woman play with her hair. She wants to talk about gardens with Book, and listen to his stories, wants to be able to have a conversation with Jayne; a real one, without weapons or resentment. Most of all River wants to kiss Mal’s cheek, and tell him that she loves her captain. She wants so many things that Kaylee has, and when she is cogent enough to consider it, she wonders if she’s a terrible person.

River was coherent the day that she asked Simon to marry her, though she isn’t jealous of Kaylee for stealing her brother away. She was by turns so happy, and so very, very sad when she realized that Simon and Kaylee would be together for a very long time, because at that moment she knew that her brother would find happiness without her. She recognized the fact that this was selfish, but she didn’t know any other course to take, because she wasn’t stupid, and she knew that no one was going to love her. Everyone else had someone, but River was sure that she would end up alone; because she couldn’t be a burden to Simon forever, and she wouldn’t ever be quite right again.

 She remembers when their neighbor’s dog gave birth to puppies, remembers walking into the pantry and seeing bloody paw prints, and the mother dog licking her babies clean so carefully, and River knows that in this story she is one of those dead puppies; broken and useless, but saved because Simon believed that maybe she wasn’t all gone.

Finding that sad mother hound in the pantry where they kept the apples had ruined the fruit for her. Little River had curled up on herself, knees drawn up, squished tight, and cried until morning, when Simon found her. He had made a fuss, and she had been stubbornly heart-broken, but Simon had dragged her away, which River felt was ironic because now she was the mess, Simon was the one crying, and she wished that Kaylee would drag him away from the sight of her.

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I am in: the hospital
I'm feeling: anxious anxious
I am listening to: What Sarah Said - Deathcab for Cutie

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1. I love white flowers.
2. I have never found a band who didn't have at least one song that I dislike.
3. I collect interesting words.
4. I habitually do not pronounce the word 'horror' correctly.
5. The Lion King is my favorite Disney movie.
6. I love bunnies.
7. I hate numbers, but like the concept that everything can be explained by math. Numbers simply get lost in translation.

I am in: Inside of a Cloud
I'm feeling: depressed depressed
I am listening to: Waltz #2 - Elliott Smith

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