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C Words (Coldplay and onward)

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 17:22:49 GMT

I'm listening to Coldplay's latest album a lot lately, and it's pretty damm amazing. I love it when I can use songs to express myself, and it seems a lot of their lyrics can be fitted to my life as of right now. Plus the music itself is really good.

They haven't quite replaced Snow Patrol as my favorite band, though. By the way, they have a new album coming out soon!!! As well as Keane AND the Kaiser Chiefs, so October just gets better and better, really.

I realized recently that all of my so-called novels have insect-related titles. The first one I started, back in my junior year of high school, was called Caterpillar Dreams, and now I have Chrysalis and Catching Flies. Oh, and they all start with C, which I just just noticed right now as I typed them. Haha. So, for my two new ideas, I apparently need some insect-related C words.

I had wanted to call my next NaNo Missed Connnections, but now I feel bad straying from my subconscious formula. What I need is a list of insect symbols. I wonder if one even exists?? I am off to google, friends.

http://www.whats-your-sign.com/insect-animal-totems.html

I'll check that site out later.

I am so curious that it is absolutely killing me. How can people expect to get close to me if they won't be honest with me? Or do I ask for too much? I guess I'm a little nosy. But if people are going to talk about me, they shouldn't make me so aware of it if they're not going to tell me what they say. This applies to a couple of people I know. It's frustrating, trying to strike a balance and curb my curiosity.

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 15:21:52 GMT

Jeremy, my sort-of-but-not-really-boyfriend, is planning on moving to Canada in about four or five months (when the lease on his apartment expires). I am sadder than I ought to be about this.

I had this dream, not a sleeping dream but a fantasy, of Jeremy waiting for me while I had fun exploring myself and the world around me. I could take a couple of years off, if you will, to be with other people. I'm just insanely curious about people, what it's like to be with different sorts of others, how we're different yet all the same. Then once I got older and tired of the party life, I could come back home and be with my Sweetness again. This was a mistake.

Why I thought anyone would wait for someone that way is beyond me. I can't expect somebody who truly loves me to just let me fool around on him and then take me back. It wouldn't be fair. And so I support Jeremiah in his decision to follow his dreams, to explore the world in his own way. He says he may just live there for a year and then come back. He's also said he might join the military. Whatever he does, he's really not going to take me back.

Do I feel like I made a mistake? Sort of. I feel like two years from now I'm going to look back and regret my choices. Right now, though, I'm okay with things.

Bad Decisions

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 21:31:23 GMT

AS USUAL, Warner Bros. acts on their insatiable lust for cash. I just heard that the Half-Blood Prince movie has been delayed to next July (which is almost a whole friggin' year away), because they think it will make more money that way. Assholes. Seriously, they are assholes! As though I haven't waited long enough for this film.

Good News for Once!

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 15:23:38 GMT

I am going to a Coldplay concert!!!!!

*girlish squeals*

I'm so excited, lol. I absolutely LOVE concerts.

Also, I might actually throw a Halloween party this year, and it would be, like, the very day after the concert. So "The Best Weekend Ever" is in the works.

AND, I know what my NaNoWriMo novel is going to be about this year, and I get to start that the day after Halloween. So, like, the best WEEK ever.

I really like having something to look forward to. It's a ray of sunshine when I'm under a rain cloud of confusion.

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 15:25:59 GMT

Well, Jeremy and I are sort of dating again. We had a long talk about things, and I decided to give him a second chance. But we're starting over from the beginning, as I definitely am not moving back in with him. And so we're just going to go out on dates sometimes.

He promised to try harder, to learn to appreciate me better and compromise. I know how hard it is for people to change, and so I can't say I'm too optimistic, but I have to let him try because I love him, you know? And if we're just dating sometimes I can back out whenever I feel it isn't going to work. We're not even exclusive, so I can still explore my options and possibly date other people. Basically, I have nothing to lose, and so I have to go for it.

I was so used to formatting things this way for the internet that I wrote my entire novel like this (no indents, double spacing paragraphs, and the like). And so lately I've been going through and fixing things a little at a time. It's incredibly annoying. I still have a lot of kinks to work out in the actual plot. There's an entire chapter that's basically just chapter plans and no actual prose. And I had this stupid little subplot that doesn't fit in with the overall story anymore, so I have to remove all of those threads. I despise editing.

Details

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 13:52:24 GMT

I have been inwardly debating the pros and cons of a certain painful decision for quite some time now, and after a lot of waffling back and forth, I finally gathered the strength and talked to Jeremy about parting ways. We both realized that we're just not suited for one another when it comes to a serious relationship. And so I moved out.

It was an amicable breakup, and I feel positive that we'll be able to remain friends. It hasn't even been a week yet, and already I feel much better about this whole thing. I was pretty depressed at first, unsure if I had made the right decision, but I can see now that it really is for the best.

I just hate living with my family again. I wish I had enough money to afford my own place. Maybe I need to get out of Massachusetts. I wish I could drive, too. So there's my checklist, I suppose. Learn to drive, get a car, move someplace cheap. I've always wanted to see the rest of the country. I just know that I'm going to be okay.

Also, I apologize for not being around; I lost my internet access for a while due to a spyware attack back at the apartment (as I'll be calling Jeremy's place from now on). But now that I'm back at the home (my parents' place), I have a computer again. So I'll try to be somewhat active.

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sun, 27 Jul 2008 03:26:47 GMT

I'm single.

It's hard to believe.

I like making lists.

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sun, 18 May 2008 01:55:36 GMT

A Semi-Comprehensive List of Brightflower's Favorite Places

1. Jordan's Furniture. The really big one with all the different rooms. They've got, like, entire living room sets in all sorts of different styles; it's like a museum you can interact with. I absolutely love it.

2. The New England Aquarium. What's cooler than watching penguins, I ask you? All of the fish are nice, too. :)

3. The TD Banknorth Garden. Hockey games are so much fun, excitement and yelling and sporting abound.

4. Rock concerts. Okay, not one specific place, but anywhere there is loud music and excited people is amazingly cool.

5. The Boston Gardens and Common. Outdoor prettiness in the midst of busy city life. My ideal setting.

6. My own bedroom. Comfort and safety and my boyfriend. It's a sigh of relief.

Now I could have sworn I had penguin icons. Looks like I am in serious need of icon searching. I'll need Boston and hockey and such, as well.

It's every young woman's WORST NIGHTMARE.

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Thu, 15 May 2008 17:35:19 GMT

I am really starting to want cats. And....(insert drumroll of HORROR)...babies.

This may seem like a good thing, I'm finally feeling ready to take responsibility of another living thing. However....it kind of weirds me out. First of all, I am turning into my mother. She is a super Cat Lady and she loves kids. That's not all, of course, but it is the icing on the Cake of Doom.

I've just been noticing lately that I'm developing tics of hers all over the place. The way she talks and such. It gives me shudders.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mom. But I never wanted to be her.

I knew it was coming, I hear it all the time, daughters turn into their mothers. I just thought that I somehow could beat it. I mean, I don't share any of her worst qualities, thank God. But what if they are on their way, looming overhead like a dark and scary rain cloud of horror?

But, back to kitties. Every time I visit my folks, I adore their cats. They arrived on the scene after I moved out (which is a shame, because I would have done something about their names, at least). Two black cats, their names are Blackie and Oreo (gee, guess which one has white patches?). SNOOZEFEST. I would have named the partially white one Sylvester, after Tweety's bane. The pure black guy I'm not sure on, but I'm almost sold on Voldemort.

They make me want cats of my own. Ginger, my childhood cat, wasn't very friendly and I was indifferent to her. But these new guys are so nice and cute. I just wonder if I could have a nice little feline friend in my home. I'd feel bad about leaving him alone, though, whilst I'm at work. Plus I don't think Jeremiah would particularly like having a cat.

Which brings me to babies. I adore my boyfriend, I really do, but I am adamant about the fact that he is in no way ready to raise a child with me. I won't say he'd be a bad father, but....he certainly wouldn't become Dad of the Year. But it may come, in time. Maybe if we had a cat he would learn to care for something.

It's kind of important

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Wed, 14 May 2008 17:50:21 GMT

Cake can't quite make up for my lack of friends.

It does a good job trying, though.

Rambling to myself - feel free to ignore

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Mon, 12 May 2008 02:07:02 GMT

I always take things the wrong way, or I just can't make any sense out of them at all. So how do I know when to take somebody seriously?

It doesn't really matter either way, and so I don't know why I'm even thinking about it. I don't want to be a drinker, so why do I ponder going out with people? I couldn't handle it.

It's incredibly difficult to be.....loyal. I miss my childhood dreams and naivety. It was so easy in the beginning. Humans are so fickle.

Image Meme

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Tue, 06 May 2008 02:31:45 GMT

1. Go to Google.
2. Type in your answer to the question in the "search" box.
3. Go to the pictures option.
3. Pick one of the pictures on the 1st row of answers.
4. Copy the html and paste for the answer.

1. What is your first name?

2. What is/was your school mascot?

3. What is your relationship status?

4. What is your favorite color?

5. Who is your celebrity crush?

I typed in James and got a two-for-one special! I like Keira, too. :)

6. What is your favorite band?

7. What is your favorite TV show?

8. What is your favorite drink?

9. What is your dream vacation?

10. What is/are your favorite dessert/treats?

11. What is your favorite pastime?

12. What is your favorite place?

13. One word to describe you:

Book Reviews: Brightflower Style

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 17:38:52 GMT

So, here is what I've read lately:

1. The Luxe: It's for hopeless romantics, for sure. Teen-oriented, and yet I was drawn into the story and honestly couldn't put the book down. I really can't wait for the sequel to come out. So, the checklist: If you like teen fiction, historical fiction (1899 New York, to be specific), dreamy romantics, society girls in big dresses, this is for you.

2. Good Omens: I've heard a lot of good things about this one, and I wasn't disappointed. It's pretty hilarious. I'm actually curious to find out if there's an online fandom for this book. I have a feeling there is. This one is for people who like quirky, hilarious looks at religion and magic. And characters; it's chock-full of quirky, hilarious characters.

3. Lying with Strangers: A psychological thriller, involving a stalker, murder, and cybersex. Extremely interesting, exactly the sort of thriller I like best. And with a shocking climax!

So, as you can see, I like to read quite a lot of variety. Coming up next is either Twilight, because I've heard so much about it, or The Town That Forgot to Breathe, because the plot sounds fascinating. I'll let you know.

Oh, also, I almost forgot. I also read recently Son of a Witch, which is the sequel to Wicked. It was only okay, in my opinion. Not enough cool plot-twisty stuff happened.

Well, this is pretty much the definition of disappointment.

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 01:32:13 GMT

4-0. Four to nothing!!

How ridiculous. After such a spectacular showing in games five and six, to leave with nothing. It's just so...frustrating.

(Heh, it's hockey talk, for those out of the loop. Feel free to ignore, I'm just venting because I'm annoyed.)

Edit I spoke too soon! Fucking FIVE to nothing. Jesus Christ on a cracker.

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 15:56:17 GMT

Bruins win!!!

*crosses fingers* I hope game seven goes as well....

Survey meme

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 18:41:48 GMT

TECHNOLOGY
Q. What is your wallpaper on your computer?
A. It looks like Stonehenge; Jeremiah picked it.

Q. How many televisions do you have in your house?
A. Two, unless there's one in our roommate's room I don't know about.

BIOLOGY
Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
Right-handed.

Q. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
Just my wisdom teeth.

Q. What is the last heavy item you lifted?
A large box stuffed full of some kind of blouse (at work).

Q. Have you ever been knocked out?
Nope.

BULLSHITOLOGY
Q. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
Hell no; I'd be way too afraid.

Q. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
Probably Lily Evans.

Q. What color do you think looks best on you?
Black.

Q. Have you ever swallowed a non-food item?
Hm....I honestly don't remember.

DAREOLOGY
Q. Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
Not to be too superficial, but it honestly depends on what she looks like.

Q. Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
No way.

Q. Would you never blog again for $50,000?
Hell yes!

Q. Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
Definitely!

Q. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
Nope.

Q. Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
Hm...only if I could pick who to take.

DUMBOLOGY
Q: What is in your left pocket?
Nothing.

Q: Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie?
It's pretty funny.

Q: Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house?
Carpets.

Q: Do you sit or stand in the shower?
Stand.

Q: How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
None, unless slippers count.

LASTOLOGY
Q: Last person who texted you?
I don't text.

Q: Last person who called you?
Some bill collector, as usual, looking for someone I've never met.

Q: Person you hugged?
Jeremiah, of course!

FAVORITOLOGY
Q: Number?
7

Q: Season?
Spring.

Q: Color?
Red

CURRENTOLOGY
Q: Missing someone?
Always.

Q: Mood?
Excited (Bruins tonight!)

Q: Listening to?
The shower running.

Q: Watching?
Just the computer.

Q: Worrying about?
Those God-damn Canadiens and the possibility of losing tonight.

Q: Wearing?
OotP t-shirt and capris.

RANDOMOLOGY
Q: First place you went this morning?
Other than in my house? The bank.

Q: What can you not wait to do?
Go to the hockey game!

Q: Do you smile often?
*shrug* A normal amount, I guess.

Q: Are you a friendly person?
Only once I get to know a person.

It occurs to me that I need a hockey icon. Also, I read this book called The Luxe, and it was really good.

The Life Before Her Eyes

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 02:09:55 GMT

So, I just found out there's a film coming out based on this book, and the trailer looks so good! This happens to be one of my top five favorite books, so I am extremely excited. :D

Also, I have started watching Dexter on Netflix, and it's pretty creepy. It's about a sociopathic serial killer who works as a blood spatter specialist for the Miami police. So basically he fakes human emotions so that nobody can tell he's crazy. I guess it's a good show, but it creeps me out too much to fully enjoy it. Jeremiah likes it a lot, and I am very curious to see how the plot's going to go, so I'm going to keep watching it.

Nest egg under stairs
Sudden light flash from above
Scatter, rodent friends.

A short one

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 15:34:08 GMT

I think I'd like to create an asylum for Atonement fans, seeing as how there isn't one already. The only thing holding me back is that I'm not entirely sure what I can actually add to such a place. Plus the fear that nobody will join and I'll inevitably feel rejected. Oh, well, I might do it anyway. Never know until you try, eh? At least Atonement is more popular than the last subject I tried to create a community about (the trix rabbit, heh).

A haiku:

Hands upon circle
Energy flows through fingers
Science, not magic.

Even my tiniest poems need work.

Stalking plans, children, randomness

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 04:59:11 GMT

So I've kind of started planning for becoming a stalker. It is so incredibly DIFFICULT to find this person on the internet. It's like he doesn't even exist. I was able to get an address for another potential "victim," though. I don't think I'm really going to stalk anyone...it's just fun to think about and plan. Gives me something to do, really.

Children make me feel so incredibly awkward. Little ones, I mean, younger than ten. They just stare at me and never say anything. What the hell am I supposed to do? "Uh...hi." Nothingness. I turn children into zombies. Sometimes I think having a kid would be really good for me, an adorable little person to teach and play games with and hug. But then I think of the crying and the staring and I get scared. I have no idea what to do with a crying child. I'm thinking of this right now because I went to visit my extended family today, I have a cousin who's about two. Jeremy's sister has a baby, too, younger than that.

Jesus Christ on a cracker, my virus scan is freaking out on me. Ten times now with pop-ups. "Warning: a potentially dangerous program something or other." I haven't even done anything different today, I have no idea where this shit is coming from. I really hope I haven't broken anything; Jeremiah will kill me (this is his computer, after all).

I need more icons. I have space for 250 right now!! I'd like some of the bands I like, some cartoon characters maybe. I can't find good pictures or icons anywhere anymore. Livejournal used to have a ton, but I can't even find any using my sockpuppet journal. I know, I said I was completely boycotting the place, but when I hear about drama I just have to look, it's a car accident. Well, no. Car accidents aren't hilarious.

My new goal is to end every entry with something creative. I feel like poetry today. You may want to avert your eyes, as it's probably going to be horrible.

Clock ticks
Hands twitch
Eyes roam
Fingers go

Slinking towards you
Invisible tendrils of need
Single flower in the darkness
Fragile, slowly losing hope

Single shadow in a window frame
Single parking spot without a name
Porch light shining into the hours
Still not home, she drops the flowers

I think too much about time. Also, I make some promises I'm not entirely sure about keeping.

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 03:07:33 GMT

I promise I'm going to start being more productive with this place. I desperately want to have friends, but it's basically impossible when I won't reach out to anyone. I am really starting to miss the one RL friend I had. I can't even remember the last time I saw him; it was before I became a vegetarian, so some time in early January. Gah, pathetic. I just never seem to have any time. I'm so lazy. Or maybe just....on a different schedule. It's kind of funny how hours don't really mean anything when you look at them through the eyes of everyone at once. We are all on different schedules. I guess I can't be friends with people who work first shift anywhere, because the scheduling is just off.

I also promise I'm going to start working on the important stuff again. Editing my only promising plotline, really. The Baumann girls, a set of vignettes about twins, is also starting to appeal to me again. So it's Nicole, Baumanns, possibly Lucy (a semi-true tale about my life at work, though I'm not "Lucy," she's Jeremiah's sister). I actually wanted to make Lucy my next NaNoWriMo, but I don't think it'll hold up. I already got a week off work in November and now I'm not even sure I'll do NaNo. How sad. I will edit, though. I'll try.

I was so desperate to get the Atonement DVD, and now that I have it I haven't even watched it yet. I think when I do a bunch of Briony fanfiction will tumble out. That's not a bad thing, but it could distract me from my newfound conviction to work on the original stuff. It's just that I'll never publish anything if all I write is fanfiction. I'm actually not sure I'll ever publish anything, anyway. But I must be positive or I'll never finish anything! =)

He has never touched her; on the contrary, it seems as though he has spent his entire life avoiding touching her. Each transferred piece of paper becomes an obstacle, a goal to be accomplished, the absolute lack of bodily contact.

She comes close, sometimes, her fingers trailing across clipboards and staircases and the door of his office. Each time his space is compromised is just the tiniest notch up on his own internal thermostat, a single bead of sweat across the back of his neck. He never moves, never speaks, never indicates in any way that he is so desperately avoiding her, and yet there is something in her eyes that tells him that she knows what he is thinking. He suspects this is merely paranoia, and she has never pushed the boundary. Still, there is something.

There are no words for this phenomenon, no reason for such practised caution. He doesn't touch anyone at his workplace, not even his closest friends, and yet there is never any conscious knowledge of this fact. He's never realized whether or not he touches anyone until he compares it to the awkward avoidance he feels around her. What exactly is she, that it could be so different?

None of this registers in his mind at all until the day she leaves for a two week vacation. "Hey," she says cheerfully, popping into his office in her own usual way, materializing almost from nowhere.

"Leaving already?" He asks, turning from his computer, eyes wide in a joking sort of surprise.

"Yeah, I've got a plane to catch." She grins, shakes her hair back. "Just wanted to say goodbye, see you in two weeks." She offers her hand for a shake, and there it is.

He is, briefly and inexplicably, stunned. There is an incredibly awkward silence as she stares at him and he stares at her small, pale hand. He's shaken hands before, obviously, and so there shouldn't be any reason for him to hesitate. But he has never touched her, and all those instances of fingers brushing along railings and papers come flashing back to him, the closeness of what he has tried so hard to avoid.

She lowers her hand and gives him that look, a strange sort of uncertainty mixed with what he believes to be suspicion. "All right, then, later." She vanishes.

He has two unbearably long weeks to think about it. By the time she comes back his entire world has changed.

Fic - Unrequited Al/Winry, Ed/Winry (Fullmetal Alchemist)

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 20:58:40 GMT

Title: Remember
Author/Artist: brightflower
Fandom/Pairing/Prompt: Fullmetal Alchemist/Unrequited AlWinry, EdWinry/005 Air
Rating: G
Summary: Anime-based. Al doesn't remember some things, but he'll never forget the way Winry looks at them.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, the anime or manga, nor any characters within.
Warnings: None. Written for ides_of_march.

Al doesn’t remember his failed transmutation; he doesn’t remember where he went to, or how he came back. He remembers a blur; he remembers his brother drawing the circle, placing his hands upon the cold floor.

The first thing he remembers as a suit is the look on Winry’s face when she first sees him. A mixture of shock and horror, and then, so slight he isn’t entirely sure it happened, the welling up of tears. That was when she noticed Ed.

Al sees it all the time, the way Winry’s eyes widen every time she looks at his brother. It’s been this way for as long as he can remember, the subtle shift in the air whenever she enters a room.

He’s been nothing but armor for such a long time that he’s completely forgotten how things feel. He watches Winry braid Ed’s hair and wonders what hair even feels like. It must be soft, the same way he imagines his kitten to feel. He used to sit up at night and pet that kitten for hours, trying desperately to feel something. He’d never tell his brother this; it would only hurt Ed. Al knows his brother blames himself, but the truth is that they were both there; they both had their hands on that circle. If only Al had been stronger, protested louder; he’d known all along it was a bad idea. Things are forbidden for a reason.

When Ed goes to sleep, he leaves the world completely unknowing, unaware that his brother can’t follow him into the land of dreams. Al’s been sleepless for each night that’s passed since the rupture. It must be because of his new form, because he no longer has a weary human body, but sometimes it seems like his soul is weighing him down, tying him to insomnia. He tries to focus on happier times, but even his childhood is a blur now, and what he can remember is stained with newer memories. He sees his mother falling to the floor; he sees wide blue eyes filled with tears. He can’t sleep.

“Ed, stop being so stubborn!” Winry stands with her hands on her hips, her hair falling into her face. Al wants to leave the room the very moment he enters; the anger and frustration is making the air boil.

“You don’t know anything about this,” Ed snarls, waving his arm -- the one Winry has made him – towards the window.

“I don’t know about it because you won’t tell me about it,” Winry says. “How can you call me your friend when you won’t tell me anything?”

“Because! Because I – you’re just – !” Ed shouts with frustration and places his hands on his head. He sighs and his voice softens as he catches sight of his brother. “Come on, Al, let’s go. There’s no use explaining it to her.”

“No use! I’m not helpless, you know.” Winry shakes her wrench at him. “Don’t try to protect me; I just want to help you.”

“Well, you can’t, all right?!” Ed shouts angrily. “There are things we have to do on our own. Isn’t that right, Al?”

Al isn’t sure how to respond. He knows why his brother won’t talk to Winry, but it doesn’t seem like something he can say aloud, to either of them. “I guess,” he says sadly, staring down at the floor.

He can feel Winry’s eyes on him, but he will not look up. Finally, he hears her sigh in defeat. “Fine, but see if I ever tell either of you anything again.” By the time he is able to look at her, she is hunched over her work table. He wonders if Ed knows that she’s crying; his brother hangs his head as he starts to walk towards the door. Al only hesitates for a moment before he follows. He can’t be alone with Winry anymore.

“Come on, Alphonse, hurry up!” Winry is laughing as she runs down the grassy hill, her long hair streaming out behind her. She looks back at Al, who is gasping for air as he struggles to keep up.

Winry reaches the fence and starts to hop over; she is halfway there when she stops, her legs hanging awkwardly as she brushes her hair out of her face. Al takes the fence at a run and flings himself over, landing on his back with a loud whump. He laughs as Winry finishes climbing over and stands over him with a friendly smile. “Are you okay?”

Al nods as he climbs to his feet. “Are we almost there?”

“You bet.” Winry takes off again, and Al notes how graceful she seems when she runs, not just a flailing mess of limbs like he and his brother. They reach the bottom of the hill and stop abruptly. Sitting beneath a tree is Edward, looking down at his hands and frowning.

“Brother?” Al manages several steps before Winry’s arm slams across his chest, knocking the breath out of him. “Oof, what was that for?”

Winry ignores him, staring out at Ed. The older brother slaps his hands together and presses them against the ground, where a small spark flares up. Al’s eyes widen as Ed curses himself, placing his head in his hands.

“I can’t believe it,” Al says in wonder. “He’s trying alchemy.”

Winry looks at him. “Is it working?”

Al doesn’t care if it’s working; he can’t believe his brother is trying alchemy without him. “Brother!”

Ed looks up quickly and leaps to his feet, keeping his hands behind his back. “Al!”

“Brother, you’re doing alchemy!” Al rushes over to the ground, where he sees a crudely drawn transmutation circle. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s not working,” Ed says, gently pushing his brother away. “It’s a waste of time, and I don’t know why I bothered trying.”

“But if we do it together,” Al says, becoming excited, “maybe we can figure it out!”

“You’re too young,” Ed says easily, stepping around his brother.

Al glares at him. “I’m only a year younger than you are. I can do anything you do!”

“Oh, yeah?” Ed grins mischievously. “Can you run just as fast?” He takes off, brushing past Winry without a glance.

Al comes up to his friend and meets her gaze. “Is he okay?” Winry asks.

“Not after I’m done with him,” Al replies, running back up the hill.

“Al, wait!” Winry follows, catching Al’s arm and slowing him down. “Maybe Ed wants to be alone for a bit.”

“He said I couldn’t do it,” Al says angrily. “I’ve got to prove myself to him.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want you trying alchemy because it’s not safe,” Winry suggests with a shrug.

“He’s doing it!”

“Yeah, but it didn’t work.”

Al watches his brother running, flying up through the grass without even looking back. He doesn’t understand, but Winry always seems to know things he doesn’t, even about his own brother. It doesn’t seem fair, somehow.

Winry is on the porch when Al comes out. Quickly, he tries to backtrack, but there is no hiding the sound of giant metal footsteps. “Hey, Al,” Winry says sadly, not turning to look at him. “I suppose you’re wondering where Ed is, too?”

“Uh, yeah.” He steps up beside her. He hasn’t been this close to Winry in what seems like forever, nothing but scenes from another life. If he were human he might be able to feel her body heat. He wonders what it would feel like. “I guess he wanted to be alone.”

“I just wish things could be like they were before,” Winry says, resting her arms on the porch rail. “We used to share everything. It seems like ever since he became a state alchemist he stopped caring about me.”

Al hears the tears in her voice and doesn’t want to say anything. Although technically, he doesn’t breathe, he feels like he’s run out of air. He isn’t ready for this conversation; he doesn’t think he’ll ever be. “Brother does care about you, Winry. That’s why he does this. He cares about you too much.”

Winry is silent for a moment. Al thinks maybe he was wrong about her; maybe he’s said too much. But then she looks up at him, with just the smallest trace of a smile on her face, and Al takes a step back in a sudden desperate need to get away. “I wish he’d show it,” she says, and her voice is much happier. “Especially after all that trouble I’ve gone through to fix that arm of his time and again.”

Al forces a laugh, placing a hand on the back of his head. “He will, one day. After we get our bodies back, things will be just like they were before. You’ll see.”

Winry places her hand over his, and a wave of something like sadness overwhelms him. “Thanks, Al. I hope you’re right.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“I can’t believe Winry’s parents are dead,” Ed says. His voice is flat as he stares blankly out the window.

“It must be horrible,” Al agrees, coming up to stand beside his brother. “I can’t imagine what it would be like without Mom around.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Ed advises him. They are silent for a moment. “I’m going to make it up to her.”

“To Winry? How?” Al is flushed, taken aback somehow. He should have suggested this first; he wants to make Winry happy again, too.

“I don’t know,” Ed says slowly, thinking. “We can’t bring them back; we’re not ready for that kind of alchemy.”

“It’s forbidden,” Al says, surprised at his brother’s tone. “I thought we agreed we’d never try it.”

“I guess, but there must be something we can do,” says Ed. He scratches his head, then gasps. “I know! Follow me!” He runs past his brother and out the door.

“Brother! Wait!” Al rushes to catch up.

Several minutes later, they are standing outside Winry’s house, peering in the windows. “Hey, Winry, come out here!” Ed shouts, waving his arms excitedly.

Winry is angry as she opens the door. “What do you want?” Her face is still wet with tears.

“I’m sorry to bother you again, Winry. We just wanted to make you feel better.” Al smiles at her.

“You two just don’t understand,” Winry says, her voice shaking.

“Wait, Winry, calm down. We made you something.” Ed holds out a small figure. Winry takes several steps forward and reaches out to take it.

“I made one, too,” Al chimes in, holding his forward.

They are statues of her parents, created by using alchemy. Winry looks from one to the other with wonder. Her eyes well up with fresh tears, and Al thinks they must have done something horrible. Then, suddenly, Winry jumps forward and throws her arms around Ed, squeezing the air out of him. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better,” she says softly. “I appreciate it.”

Brother’s face has gone red. “You’re welcome,” he says shakily as Winry releases him.

“We just like to see you happy,” Al says softly. Winry looks at him with the beginnings of a smile in her eyes. She may look at him the same, but she does not hug him.

“Someday, I’m gonna marry Winry,” Ed says proudly, pointing to his chest.

Al doesn’t say anything.

Fic - Briony (Atonement)

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 20:35:18 GMT

Title: Understanding
Author/Artist: brightflower
Fandom/Pairing/Prompt: Atonement/General Briony/015 Innocence
Rating: G
Summary: "She's beginning to get the full grasp of what she did and what it has meant." (Cecelia to Robbie, pg. 199 of the novel)
Disclaimer: I do not own Atonement, the novel or movie, nor any characters within.
Warnings: None. Written for ides_of_march.

Briony hears them talking, in the small window of free time allotted to the busy students before lights out. The girls have similar voices, twittering like birds as they gather in small groups to giggle over letters they have received. Most of the women have a lover of some sort, some tall and handsome fellow serving for his countrymen. There’s a lot of dramatic sighing amongst the girls, loving monologues about how it feels to be held and kissed and loved, words that dissolve into tears, sometimes, once the lights go out. Briony hears the girls talk of passion and warmth, and sometimes, despite herself, she remembers a strong pair of arms around her waist, and a hand clamped around her sister’s wrist.

The period of years between then and now has been one of tentative steps and foggy reluctance. Briony has felt for quite some time now that something is terribly wrong, that she has done something incorrectly. And yet she has had such confidence in herself for so many years that the exact details of what’s wrong couldn’t be quite figured out. It was shrouded in the encouragement of others, in her own self-confidence. She reasoned that giving up school to become a nurse might help her work through her doubts; it was some vague feeling of responsibility that she could not put words to.

And now, here, sitting in the bed by the corner and listening to the others speak, things become painfully clear to young Briony. The girls speak of clandestine meetings with their beloved men, stolen kisses and love letters, and Briony thinks of that which she interfered with. A short and violent note, two people in a library, it all takes on a different light when viewed through the eyes of excited young nurses. None of them would have tried to save their sisters in such a situation; they would have applauded them.

Briony has always known, somewhere deep down, that Robbie might not have been the one to assault young Lola. And yet she has never been completely sure until now, until her sister’s actions are thrown into understanding. Cecelia loved Robbie, and still loves him now. Briony has destroyed a relationship. The realization is painful beyond words.

When the lights finally go out, and most girls go to sleep with a loving smile on their faces, Briony lies on her back and stares at the ceiling and thinks about her sister. Cecelia can’t share the same elation these girls feel about their men; it’s almost certain that Robbie would not have joined the war if he had had any say in it. Neither, though, would she cry softly in her bed, the way some frightened young ones do. No, the older Tallis sister must simply stew in the knowledge that Robbie is out there somewhere risking his life, and it is all down to Briony that he must do so. Cecelia hates her.

They think she is young and innocent, these nurses-in-training; they see her as a young and sheltered girl with no world knowledge. How could anyone not know the highs and lows of love, the simplest and most complicated of all emotions? But now Briony knows more than even they, and this is what keeps her awake at night. She is exhausted nearly every night, her smallest of muscles aching from the weary work she does all day. And yet the thoughts of love and innocence consume her soul, and each night she pictures Cee, hating her, as is her right. Briony is far from innocent.

And then, of course, there is Robbie, stranded who-knows-where, perhaps dying, perhaps injured, and hating Briony with just as much fire. There is something incredibly tender inside of her that trembles with fear at the very thought of so much anger directed towards her. And yet there must be something she can do, some way she can atone for her actions.

Briony sits up, carefully so as not to disturb the girls trying to sleep, and sneaks her journal back out from its hiding place. She opens to a new page and begins to write, slowly, choosing her words with a caution she has not known for a long time. She can never return to innocence, and yet she must try.

Fic - Unrequited Briony/Robbie (Atonement)

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 20:31:20 GMT

Title: Firsts
Author/Artist: brightflower
Fandom/Pairing/Prompt: Atonement/unrequited BrionyRobbie/016 Firsts
Rating: G
Summary: It was a year of firsts. Based mostly on my film impressions, as I saw that before I read the book.
Disclaimer: I do not own Atonement, the novel or movie, nor any characters within.
Warnings: None. Written for ides_of_march.

Briony has a dream one night that’s quite different from any other dream she’s ever had. Her nights of monsters and fears are just waning, and she is beginning to discover the lighter side of fantasy. Briony has a dream about adventure, about journeys, about love.

This first dream, this first real dream, must be preserved somehow. How will Briony ever remember such a fascinating dream if she lets it simply linger in the deep recesses of her brain? This sort of dream is the perfect thing to think about on those long, boring days when there’s nothing to do. But she’ll never be able to hold on to it if it’s only a thought. How to make it more than that?

Her mother has a typewriter that is used for writing letters and keeping records. It doesn’t take much pleading for Briony to be granted permission to borrow it.

Typing is a fascinating thing. With a mere tap on a little square, thoughts and dreams come alive. Even the smallest thoughts, inconsequential observances Briony has tossed aside on rainy mornings, become immortalized on paper, forever records.

Briony types out her dreams, even the scary ones, because someday she may want to look back on what her brain does when she’s not allowed to control it. Briony records her daily activities, her conversations, her family’s lives. Everything that happens goes into the typewriter.

Eventually, however, this begins to bore Briony. What should it matter to her what her mother does with her time? Surely no one would ever care to read about Cecilia’s choice of schooling, or her thoughts on time. It is only interesting to a point; Briony likes records, but her dreams are much more fascinating. If only she could design her own dreams, to make her typing more entertaining. Maybe she could use the dreams she’s had to entertain others. Fantasy and adventure has got to be something she could share with the world. And, as she lies awake one night thinking it over, she realizes that perhaps she could create her own dreams, after all.

Briony’s first story isn’t very long, but she is quite proud of it. She has written about a castle on a hill, about two young girls playing hide and seek, and the hidden treasure they discover in a secret room. She rushes through it, not quite worrying about her spelling and presentation, and flies throughout the house with the papers clutched high in one hand, eager to show her creation to the world.

Cee is her first target, and her sister smiles down at her with amusement as she takes the papers from Briony’s hand. “What have you done now, spy on Mother’s bath?”

Briony draws herself up tall and affects a proud tone. “I’ve written my own story, and I want you to be the first to read it.”

Cecilia doesn’t seem too excited about Briony’s first accomplishment. “It’s rather nice,” she says, rather half-heartedly in Briony’s opinion. Still, she doesn’t let it bother her too much; her mother is sure to love it.

This turns out to be quite true; in fact, Mrs. Tallis insists on binding the pages together, like a real book, and having Briony make copies for everyone. This is no trouble at all for Briony, who is thrilled to be accepted as a true writer, and she furiously recopies her short tale, borrowing the dictionary to fix some of her spelling mistakes along the way.

A copy goes to her mother, of course, and to Cee, who accepts hers with what appears to be a slightly condescending smile. A copy will be set aside for Briony’s father, a present for when he returns home, and also for Leon, her older brother.

Briony makes yet another copy and trots out into the grounds to see Robbie Turner. Robbie is about Cecilia’s age; he works for Mr. Tallis in return for money to go off to school with. During the summers he works the grounds, although Briony doesn’t get the chance to talk with him much. During their childhood they spent many a day together, he and Briony and Cee, but now that they are in schooling, Cecilia has distanced herself, and Briony likewise, if only because she isn’t sure how to proceed with Robbie on her own.

Still, he must have a copy of her story, and so she sets off to find him chopping weeds. “Hello, Robbie,” she says, her voice filled with self-importance. “I’ve come to give you a present.”

He looks up at her and smiles, a true and friendly smile, and stops what he is doing to regard her. “A present? What sort of present?”

She holds out her story, typed out as carefully as can be, and bound together just like a real book. “I’ve written a story all on my own.”

Robbie takes the papers from her and flips through them with a look of wonder on his face. “I am truly honored to receive your first novel, Briony.” He grins and sticks the book under one arm. “I promise to read it later, after this work is through.”

Briony feels something strange in her stomach, like a hot, crawling beast, and she nods curtly, forcing a smile. “Thank you.” There is something in his smile that roots her to the spot, something that makes her feel very special and very stupid, all at the same time. In that moment, Briony understands why she couldn’t be alone with Robbie after Cee deserted them. Though she cannot put words to it, she knows it is something new and important, and in the next few months she will fumble to develop some sort of meaning to it in her stories. She finds she has come to understand what they were talking about in these fairy tales, princesses who are elated by love for their princes. It is love she is feeling, surely, her first and truest love. It is a year of firsts.

Football, writing, the pointless update of my life

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 15:51:40 GMT

The Super Bowl was very nerve-wracking. And confusing. I'm a Boston fan, of course, but, at the same time, I always have to root for the underdogs. I just love the feeling of wiping away someone's overconfidence. You know the commentators said before the game that Tom Brady is the best player in the history of the game. That kind of statement just has to be punished.

I am very pleased with the outcome. It was an amazing game, regardless of which team won.

I'm having trouble writing things lately. I just want to so badly, but when I sit in front of my word processor I have no idea how to begin. I'm leaning towards taking an electronic vacation and just scribbling ideas down on scrap paper. It seems to help sometimes.

I have so many books sitting on my shelf, waiting to be read! I'm really getting into vampire novels lately. It makes me want to write my own, but, of course, I have no idea how to start. Hopefully I can overcome this. I always feel like I'm not accomplishing anything when I'm not writing.

I like my job, but...it sucks my energy away. That's probably the reason. I wish I could afford to work part-time.

Atonement

crystalpuff@gmail.com — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 03:51:34 GMT

I saw this movie yesterday (coincedentally, the same day it wins a Golden Globe for best drama film), and it was amazing. Seriously, it's my new #1 favorite movie. It was just so utterly heartbreaking. It really touched me.

I am filled with an urge to write fanfiction. And that's how you know it was a good film. Anything that makes me write fanfiction is something that has really gotten under my skin.