Sylvacoer's Domain

bats away cobwebs

2008-06-13T02:01:43Z

Wow, last entry I have here was BEFORE my little sister got married! ^^; I guess it's rather fitting that my return should be to notify the world that

I'M AN AUNTIE NOW!!! My little sister has had her first kid, a boy named for our paternal grandfather. He's oh so cute and I wish I could be there for her - at the very least, both my parents flew across the country to help her through the post-partum process.

I sketched a picture from a photo they sent me:

Welcome to the World by *sylvacoer on deviant ART

Isn't he precious? after 17 and half hours of labor (which, by the way, is FAST for our family!), my sister looks pretty worn out but oh so happy. *sighs*

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, OMG I'M AN AUNTIE!!!

Whoa...

2007-08-09T18:43:56Z

Dude - I just realized my little sister's getting married in less than 10 days.
...
...
...
...
... ZOMFG, MY LITTLE SISTER'S GETTING MARRIED IN LESS THAN TEN DAYS!!! :cries::love::glomp::tears::joy::boogie::cries::heart:

Yeah, it's been kind of an emotional roller coaster for me ever since I got back home. I'm the maid of honor and I haven't written my toast yet. ^^;

The wedding's going to be pretty small - just family and some friends. O'course, given that both sides of my family are old-style Catholic, that amounts to at least 40 aunts, uncles, and cousins alone (and not all can make it). We're even flying in our own priest, an old family friend who's been stationed with my mom (twice), my aunt and uncle, AND my grandparents! (we've adopted him, pretty much - always handy to have a priest in the family)

I am going to have to take pictures for sure - my little sister will be wearing the wedding kimono our mom wore for the first part of the day, so I might wear my yukata as well.

Her fiance's mother and sister came all the way from Russia to be in the wedding party, and his Marine buddies are serving as the groomsmen. That means Marines in service dress. :drool: Yummy!

*starts freaking out again*

GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!11one!!

2007-07-25T22:35:44Z

I just finished my last term paper.
...
...
....
.....
....... ZOMFG I'M FREE! I'M FREE! I'M FRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!!!!
*cackles like a hyperactive hyena on crack*

I just have to proctor a couple of exams and not miss my flight home on the first of August. ^^;

My little sister's wedding is on the 18th - if I get any decent pictures, I'll post.

Okay, now it’s getting silly…

2007-06-08T08:03:27Z

For the last three days or so, my school’s been vibrating under the influence of a nearby earthquake. I’ve never lived on top of the epicenter of one of these geologic events, but I must say that while experience has been interesting…

*dorm trembles again*

… it’s starting to get a little annoying. For one, they’ve turned off all the elevators, which is fine by me since I always take the stairs unless I have a class on the fifth floor.

Guess where all my classes this quarter are. (~_~’)

Also, it’s kinda unnerving to be typing a report and having to go out into the hall because all the furniture in your room starts moving and you don’t want to electrocute yourself if a really big tremor hits (which hasn’t happened… yet).

The first night of the earthquake was the scariest because, yeah – earth moving = not good. I’ve pretty much come to terms with the fact that if there ever is a knockout tremor I’ve made my peace with God and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I find it intensely amusing that the dorm admin peoples have opened one of the halls as sleeping quarters for those females to nervous to stay in their fourth/fifth floor rooms. And I do mean “females” – the announcement mentioned them specifically. Tough luck, guys. (^_^)

In other news…

Michy’s wedding preparations are well underway, and I’m counting down the days till I get home. Unfortunately, it’s looking as though one of the scholarships I might get this year require me to sign a document every month testifying to my residence in Japan *’nother tremor – kinda bigger this time* - which means I will have to get down on my knees and people the office people to sign one day early before I leave on 1 August, or come back on the 29th, which would suck, since I intended to get some serious research done through September. *headdesk, sigh*

Sorry to make this a short entry, but thought everyone might like to know about the quakes - I have ten-page paper due on conceptualizing “resistance” as a social phenomenon due next Thursday. (@_@) Wish me luck!

[FANFIC] Racheakt: Face-off

2007-05-29T01:59:53Z

Title: Racheakt: Face-off
Characters: Undead!Jet; Ty-Lee(which would be a fun crack-ship, now that I think about it...)

Spoilers: None.

Notes: Ty Lee vs. Undead!Jet!! Who will triumph? Who will be left a pathetic mass of humilitation when the dust clears?! You'd be surprised.
I should be writing a term paper - I decided to write doujin-basedcrack!fic instead.

(You have been warned...)

Racheakt: Face-off

(Or, Sylvacoer is Writing an Exam Paper and Wasted time Writing DoujinCrack-Fic)

--------

Like a heaven-sent bolt of pink lightening, the noblewoman-turned- acrobat-turned-royal-bodyguard/lackey, hurtled down upon her foe, her deadly accurate weapons extended to the fore.

*POKE!*

The Freedom-Fighter-turned-cursed-spirit-of-vengeance quirked an eyebrow, his baleful moonstone eyes turning momentarily bemused.

“Um…”

Nonplussed by his apparent inability to succumb to the paralyzing power of her finger-jab, Ty Lee whirled gracefully on one toe, aiming for yet another chi-point, this time just below the assailant’s sternum.

*POKE!*

Jet blinked, so confused by the young Fire Nation noblewoman’s odd behavior he failed to dispatch her then and there with his tiger-hook swords, which hung forgotten in his lowered hands. “Um…”

The girl in pink flushed scarlet, rather more from vexation than embarrassment, her lovely ivory brow knitted with a frustrated scowl. As though oblivious to her opponent’s attempts at getting her attention, she unleashed her most fearsome and devastating attack, guaranteed to render any man, woman or child completely paralyzed and helpless.

*POKE!* *POKE!* *POKE!* *POKE!* *POKE!* *POKE-POKE- POKE-POKE- POKE-POKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKEPOKE-!*

Jet, who was getting slightly nauseous from the fuchsia maelstrom that enveloped him as Ty Lee attacked him from all sides in a marvelous display of acrobatic skill and dexterity (apparently, Anuzayin forgot to mention cursed spirits of vengeance could get nauseous), decided it he had Had Enough.

“WILL YOU QUIT IT?!” he roared, releasing one sword and snatching the annoying girl out of the air by the waistband of her skirt with one swipe of his taloned hand.

“Eek! Pervert!” Ty Lee yelped in protest, desperately striking out one last time.

“OW!! DAMMIT, THAT WAS MY EYE!!” howled Jet, dropping Ty Lee like a sack of cabbages and clapping his hand over the injured orb.

“Oof!” Ty Lee punctuated, landing on the hard stone with a surprised, decidedly ungraceful one-point landing. “Owwww…” she complained, rubbing the affronted bit of anatomy.

“What… the HELL… is WRONG… with YOU?!?” Jet demanded, glaring down at her with all the Fury that only a Hell-spawned, Fate-cursed Undead can manage.

It did not phase Ty Lee in the least. “I’m trying to paralyze you!” she informed him with a pout, bounding to her feet and matching him glare for glare. She jabbed him in the ribs again, almost spitefully. “Why aren’t you working?!” she demanded of her fore- and middle fingers, holding the offending digits in front of her face and (apparently) forgetting about Jet completely.

“Okay… this is getting too weird. I’m leaving now,” Jet said, backing away from the crazy girl slowly and carefully, as one would retreat from an enraged saber-toothed moose bull in rut…

“Hey, where’d he go?” Ty Lee asked the empty air a few moments later, having satisfactorily scolded her uncooperative hands into submission, “Well now – that’s just rude.”

---

(To be continued…?)

----
A/N: Hey, I did say it was crack, didn't I?! In any case, I plan to draw this as an omake for Racheakt once I get my final paper finished. Please look forward to it!

[FANFIC] Truth

2007-05-14T15:32:09Z

Title: Truth

Characters: Jet; Sneers

Spoilers: None

Comments: How you turn a defeat into victory - a study of psychological warfare.

----

Truth

The line of Perception that divides Fact and truth can be made a gaping chasm.

“The river reeds listen for the wind’s voice and bow accordingly.”

----

Afterwards, Jet remained silent and brooding throughout the afternoon and early evening, staring up at the holes in his roof as his soaked clothing dripped dry on the line strung up outside his “door.”

It had been a confined ops – only those directly involved in laying the explosives had even the vaguest idea of what exactly the foul-smelling barrels were expected to do.

It was better that way, he had convinced himself, pretending to be wholly oblivious to his hypocrisy: less time wasted on questions, explanations, arguments, less doubt.

‘Less guilt…’

Jet swore, sitting bolt upright on his creaking pallet, grinding the heel of his palm into the bridge of his nose. The pressure compounded his throbbing headache, conveniently replacing echoes of accusation and condemnation and truth and visions of wounded sky-blue eyes with blessed pain.

“The natives grow restless,” a unwelcome (but not unexpected) voice intruded, “The longer you hide in here, the wilder the talk; they’re only kids after all.”

Jet grimaced, stifling a groan as he fell back against his ratty pillow. “Handle it yourself,” he retorted darkly, throwing one bare, bruised forearm over his eyes, “Damage control is your specialty.”

“Actually, I believe we agreed my specialty would be general strategy and occasional advice on tactics,” Sneers corrected indifferently, taking a seat on the stump-stool/table beside Jet’s bed without invitation. “Damage control is… a side job.”

“What about Smellerbee?” Jet asked the ceiling, after shooting Sneers an appropriately deadly glare.

“She went chasing after Longshot, naturally,” replied Sneers, ignoring the homicidal glint in Jet’s eyes, “they probably won’t be back for…”

“I get the idea!” Jet interrupted, spitting out the words like acid and getting to his feet in one abrupt, violent motion.

“I’ll need to get Skillet to look over those bruises – that Water Tribe girl might have broken a rib,” commented Sneers, his ebony eyes placidly following Jet as he began pacing the inadequate length of his living quarters, growling like a starving komodo rhino. His tanned skin was mottled with dark-violet-black bruises from merciless water and ice.

“I think I would have noticed something like that, thanks,” snapped Jet, not faltering in his ferocious pace.

“Would you?” Sneers riposted offhandedly.

Jet jerked to a halt, standing very still as he stared over his shoulder at Sneers. “You’re up to something,” he finally concluded.

“Hm?”

“All right, don’t try that ‘I-have-no-idea-what-you’re-talking-about’ crap with me, I am not in the mood for your damn mind games,” Jet said, turning to face his lieutenant, “Spill.”

“As you were so badly thrashed today, I suppose it would only be compassionate not to torture you further,” drawled Sneers, a beatific smile spreading across his face.

Jet’s jaw and fists clenched spasmodically, but he knew Sneers well enough to remain silent, still, and patient.

Outwardly, at least.

“Funny you should have brought up ‘damage control,’” Sneers began, obviously warming up to the real reason he had bothered to harass Jet, “That’s exactly what we’re going to have to do if you want the Freedom Fighters to survive.”

A sigh that could easily be mistaken for a groan of resignation worked it way out of Jet’s chest as his shoulders sagged. “Yeah, I know,” he said thickly, staring into the distance above Sneers head, “This was an all or nothing gamble, and thanks to the Avatar and his friends…”

“It was a gamble you had to take,” Sneers interjected, not liking Jet’s tone of voice or the defeated cast of his face. He was angry, certainly, but Sneers’s sharp eyes and ears could detect significant trace of regret and perhaps… remorse?

‘Damn that Water girl’s pretty face,’ he swore internally. It had taken many months of work to coach Jet to the precipice and that water-witch’s charms and the Avatar’s innocent trust had almost made Jet hesitate. Almost - but “almost” was never something a strategist of Sneers’s degree liked to hear.

“I know I did – I’d do it again, and not let anyone screw it up,” Jet averred, fixing Sneers with hard, cold eyes.

“But…?” Sneers supplied.

“There is no “but”!” Jet protested.

“I think there is,” pressed Sneers, “Jet, you said it yourself, when we got serious about attacking Fire Nation patrols and supply lines – sometimes, we have to play ugly.”

“Yeah, yeah… but how ugly…?” Jet trailed off, realizing he had stumbled blindly right into Sneers’s rhetorical trap.

“Anyway, getting back to damage control,” Sneers said, changing the topic in order to stave off a useless argument, “We will have to disband according to the plan – it’s the only way we can make sure everyone gets out before the Fire Nation returns.”

“If… when… yeah, I know,” Jet sighed, suddenly feeling excruciatingly tired. He dropped where he stood, oblivious to the protests of his abused body, leaning his bare back carefully against the wall. He bowed his head, staring down into his hands. “If we had won, it wouldn’t matter, but…”

“We run away, to fight another day,” Sneers finished for him, his voice assuming a veneer of gentleness, “The younger kids will be dispersed accordingly among the villages behind Earth Kingdom lines – the older ones we selected will maintain contact between each village group.”

“I can’t go with you,” Jet said numbly, “Smellerbee and Longshot and you will have to…”

“I think you’ll have to wait to hear what those two have to say about that before you make any “selfless” plans to hare off alone – you owe it to them.”

“Heh – Bee’s going to be leader by default, since she’s going to kill me for making Longshot… do that… behind her back.”

“She’ll forgive you – she’s not quite as heartless as you make her out to be, you know.”

“Hmph. She did warn me about Ka… the Water Tribe girl. Better factor that into your equation.”

“Jealous women are chaos incarnate – no sane man would attempt to predict what they are going to do,” Sneers commented sagely. “But just in case, I will personally read your funeral rites as an apology for my miscalculation.”

Jet snorted, the closest thing he would get to a laugh for a long, long time; the exhalation made his ribcage creak painfully. “Urgh. You know, you might be right about having to see Skillet after all.”

“All in good time – you still haven’t heard my plan for damage control.”

Jet snapped his head up, immediately regretted doing so, but nevertheless gaped at Sneers. “I thought that was your plan.”

“That, dear leader, is why I am the strategist of our merry little band and you are not,” Sneers pointed out smugly.

“I thought you were going to have mercy on me because of how I got my ass handed to me by a twelve-year-old and a water-wench,” complained Jet.

“Don’t forget your impending execution at the hands of the lovely Smellerbee,” Sneers gleefully reminded him. Relenting, he proceeded to outline the fallback plan he had already set in motion:

“The Freedom Fighters will disperse as we’ve already planned, but they will have an additional mission: they will tell the story of what happened today to everyone they meet.”

“That’s great – let’s piss off everyone in the free territories as well, since I’ve already guaranteed the collaborators will skin me or anyone associated with me alive if they get their hands on them. Brilliant. Wish I’d thought of it,” Jet snorted in disbelief.

Ignoring Jet’s mocking commentary, Sneers continued. “They will tell the story of how a dam built by Earth kingdom hands was summarily destroyed by Fire Nation explosives, wiping out a village of collaborators that served as a base of Fire Nation operations in this valley. That these collaborators survived is inconsequential – their luck. As to who set the explosives – are children who have been living wild in the forest really capable of such an elaborate sabotage? Surely, they are too weak – why else have they fled as the valley was flooded?”

“So, we’re not evil, just incompetent? Even villages behind the lines have heard of us, you know – that was one of the reasons we decided those villages would take in a bunch of ragged orphans they’d otherwise turn away,” said Jet, although he was beginning to see the genius of Sneers proposal.

“Facts are facts, but Truth is easily distorted by what people hear and want to believe,” said Sneers, “In all likelihood, the story that a bunch of depraved hooligans calling themselves “Freedom Fighters” blew the dam will reach the free villages. But remember – the Fire Nation is the enemy of all nations. They are the ones who use fire and explosives to destroy and maim and kill. What would you rather believe, as an Earth Kingdom villager who has lived on the knife’s edge of war for time out of mind: that Earth Kingdom children willfully tried to sacrifice a village of Earth Kingdom families (never mind that they were collaborators) wholesale to erase a Fire Nation division and failed, or that some diabolical scheme concocted by the Fire Nation literally blew up in their faces? That perhaps the fabled Freedom Fighters might have had a hand in the latter?”

Jet lapsed into reflective quiet for a long while after Sneers finished speaking, his face an unreadable mask. “About the Avatar,” he said finally, in a low tone that Sneers had to strain to hear, “We have to make sure no one says a word against him or his companions. The less said about his involvement, the better. If this plan of yours is going to work, we can’t afford to throw any dirt on the “Savior of the World” or whatever the hell people are calling him.”

Sneers allowed himself a slight smirk of triumph; they had suffered a grave setback thanks to the Avatar, but Jet was still Jet. He did not have the same quality of studied cleverness that Sneers had gained through years of monastic education, but there was no denying his ability to finesse any glimmer of precious advantage from what most other would declare a complete defeat. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted, encouraged by the fierce grin Jet shot him, “You’re right. Most of the kids don’t know what part the Avatar played in any case, and I already told Pipsqueak and the Duke to keep their traps shut. Though you’ll definitely want to speak to Pipsqueak to make sure the concept lodges itself in his thick head.”

Jet’s grin took on a decisively wicked turn. “Now, now – he’s going to be your teammate for the time being, him and the Duke. If Bee and Longshot really do insist on coming with me like you think they will, you’re the one who’s going to have to make sure everything runs like we planned. You’re going to have to assemble the gang when the time comes.”

Sneers’s face fell – he hated leadership, hated responsibility, hated having to waste his precious energy taking care of weaklings. He honestly did not understand how Jet could seem to thrive on teaching feckless orphans to survive and fight and spy and kill. Indirect power, exercised through such useful tools as Jet and Smellerbee, was much more appealing. However…

“As this is the last time for a long time you’ll ever be able to order me to do anything…”

-----

Incidentally, Sneers’s strategy of misinformation succeeded beyond all his expectations (even though, it should be pointed out, Sneers was and always will be a consummate pessimist). The Freedom Fighters dispersed as they were ordered, having almost to the last accepted Jet as the one and only person in the world deserving of loyalty and obedience. He had, after all, given them food, home, hope, purpose, and taught them to fight the hated Fire Nation when cowardly adults kow-towed in the dirt at the iron-shod boots of the invader. Fueled by pride and purpose, the children who were rebels and warriors carried out their mission with all their energy.

The story, the idea, the myth of the Freedom Fighters spread far and wide, whispered excitedly in stinking gutters by thin, rag-clad urchins in big cities; affirmed vociferously in crowded tea-houses stripped bare by rationing; proudly elaborated upon in kitchens and market places and loading docks. The Fire Nation had not conquered all, the stories declared – for, you see, children had withstood them, had defied them, had turned their own terrifying weapons against them (remarkably, there was little sympathy for the loss of a village of collaborators).

When the time for battle came, the ranks of those who declared themselves “Freedom Fighters” had swelled remarkably beyond all recollection of those children who had lived and fought and killed and died beneath blood-red leaves; but perhaps, that was how it had always been….

----

A/N: The idea for this story came about from my readings into various psychological operations and propaganda campaigns in modern warfare. As history has demonstrated, “Truth” is a very malleable concept indeed.

Freedom Fighter Brand: Bee

2007-05-10T14:13:30Z

Couldn't help myself, mates - Bee's just too damn cute, so here she is, modern model for Freedom Fighter Brand Jeans.

Click it to devART.

[FANFIC] Racheakt: Enquiry

2007-04-17T14:52:41Z

Title: Racheakt: Enquiry
Character/ship: Zuko, Jet

Spoilers: None

Comments: AU-doujin-based. Written version of a future chapter of my doujinshi, Racheakt. Given that I've been having so much trouble with my computer and that I'll be very busy with my master's thesis, this chapter might not ever be drawn out, though I would like very much to.

----

Bidding “good night” to Mai, Zuko returned to his northeast corner room to find the Blue Spirit waiting for him.

‘That’s not…!’ Zuko unsheathed his twin dao, leveling the left at the interloper.

“Where did you get that mask?” he demanded, instinctively staring into the empty eyeholes.

The blue-and-white lacquered face tilted to one side, moonlight spilling through the eastern window glancing off the curve of cheek and eye-socket and point of horn and fang. The graven grin seemed to spread wider, as though the mask itself were amused by its erstwhile owner’s bewilderment.

That was impossible, of course - it was just a mask: polished resin, paint, and wood. It had no more “spirit” than a chair or piece of clothing. All the same, Zuko felt the hairs on his forearms and the back of his head prick and a cold shiver run down his spine.

“Who are you? Where did you get that mask?!” he bit out again, this time consciously addressing the near-shapeless, shadow-cloaked form that wore his former visage.
Instead of answering, the intruder turned his back on Zuko, deliberately pacing toward the window that held the rising half-moon on silent feet. As he mounted the high sill, he half-turned; the gesture was all at once mocking and expectant:
“You coming? Or are you afraid of spirits?” Zuko could almost hear the words – in his mind, the mask spoke in harsh, sibilant whispers.

Without waiting for a reply, the Blue Spirit leapt out of the window, his dark cloak swinging open like grotesque wings for an instant before he dropped from view.

Zuko shook himself out of his confused daze and rushed to the window, staring out across the wide empty courtyard and the high wall beyond, half expecting to see the Blue Spirit flying over it.

A movement on the green glazed tiles of the roof just below his window recalled him to reality (and sanity). The Blue Spirit, a column of shadow standing at the roof’s edge in the bright moonlight, gazed up at him. Again, Zuko clearly sensed that the mask (… no, the person wearing it!) was mocking him for his hesitation.

“This is some sort of trick or trap,” he muttered to himself, glaring at the insolent trespasser. All the same, he sheathed his swords and climbed out of the window, dropping easily and silently onto the roof.

As soon as his feet touched the tiles, the Blue Spirit (Zuko was rather annoyed that he kept applying that title to the assailant) stepped backwards off the roof, as though the twenty-foot drop to the courtyard below was a matter of little consequence. Zuko followed more cautiously – though no one had yet raised the alarm, in and of itself rather eerie, he did not trust his luck (such as it was!) to keep him invisible or invulnerable.
The Blue Spirit waited patiently as Zuko swung himself over the edge of the roof, using the elaborately carved bracket as a temporary handhold to reach the supporting column beneath, shinnying down the polished wood and landing with no more noise than the drawing of a breath.

“I’m not going any further until you…” Zuko began, but the Blue Spirit had already turned away, this time sprinting across the open, moon-bright expanse of courtyard toward the postern in the far wall that lead to the central palace complex.

Cursing the Blue Spirit, the moon, over-sized Earth Kingdom architecture, and himself, Zuko gave chase, scuttling from one shadow to the next like a scorpion snake under a high noon sun until he reached the night-shrouded postern. The thick iron door was supposed to be locked and guarded at all times, but Zuko found it swung open invitingly (ominously) wide.

There was no sign of the guard or the Blue Spirit, but Zuko could swear he caught the faintest metallic whiff of blood on the breeze that flowed out of the portico like the breath from some monstrous maw.

A wise and cautious man would have abandoned the chase at this point and sounded the alarm. ‘But since when was I ever the cautious type?’ Zuko riposted mentally. Dread and common sense warred with anger and excitement – was he chasing a spirit, a ghost he had cast off, or was his adversary flesh and blood, an assassin or an ally?

Zuko pretended to weigh his options rationally, entertaining an internal debate, when he knew that his course had been decided the moment he had set eyes upon that familiar demonic face. In a sop to his more rational mind, he once more unsheathed his swords. Any firebending around the palace grounds would certainly catch the Dai-li’s attention, and this hunt would end before he got any answers.

Zuko stepped through the opened gate.

Beyond was a lightless passageway, short enough that he could see a rectangle of moonlight like the page of a book at the far end. No sign of the Blue Spirit. Zuko ran down the length, emerging from the corridor with the flights of stairs leading up to the massive central hall on his right, the flight leading down to the colonnaded parade ground and the main gate far in the distance on his left.

The Blue Spirit had already descended one or two steps and greeted his emergence with a shrug. “Had our little mental chat, have we? Glad you could join me,” Zuko again heard the mocking whisper and gritted his teeth.

“Tell me who you are,” he ordered lowly.

The Blue Spirit shrugged again and began walking down the steps as though he had all the time in the world. Zuko darted after him, his temper piqued to near boiling point, but the Blue Spirit apparently had a sixth sense (or extraordinarily good hearing) – he burst into a sprint of his own. Not caring at this point who saw or heard, Zuko sheathed his swords and flung himself down the steps after his quarry, not bothering to stick to the shadows.

Reaching the bottom, the Blue Spirit easily leapt the moat, ignoring the bridge – Zuko swallowed his pride and took the more sensible route. The Blue Spirit swerved to the northeast, running headlong in the direction of some derelict storehouses and an armory and the opposing wing of the palace. Heedlessly, Zuko followed, though a small part of his brain voiced trepidation at the fact that the ever-watchful Dai-li had yet to make an appearance. Straining every muscle, Zuko sought to close the distance that separated them as stone-flagged courtyards and impassive imposing edifices, etched in shadow and moonlight, flashed past in his peripheral vision.

As the race went on, it dawned on Zuko that the Blue Spirit, or rather, the person wearing the mask, was just toying with him, deliberately keeping the same distance between them no matter how much faster Zuko pushed himself in pursuit. Spurred by anger and pride, Zuko pulled on reserves of speed and endurance he did not know he possessed.

Agni-knew how long the chase went on, wending through the labyrinth that was the heart of the Earth Kingdom, until they reached a remote sector of the palace grounds that nevertheless stirred a sense of recognition in Zuko. Just as he struggled to connect memory to place, the Blue Spirit vanished, as if the earth itself had swallowed him. Zuko jerked to halt in surprise. Gulping air and trying to steady his racing heart, Zuko swept his sweat-soaked bangs from his eyes and stared at the spot where he had last seen the masked figure.

Immediately, the cause of the disappearance became clear and it was anything less than supernatural. A hole in the ground as wide as he was tall, too perfectly circular to be natural, yawned pitch-black at his feet.

No, not quite pitch-black; Zuko detected a faint, familiar green glow emanating from whatever space was below.

‘It can’t be…’ Glancing around, Zuko confirmed his suspicions – this was where Azula’s Dai-li minions had taken him after Iroh’s escape and his capture. The actual entrance was some yards away, looking little more than a badger-mole’s hill in the moonlight. Someone (the Blue Spirit?) had carved this new entrance down into the crystal catacombs especially for him. And doubtless, the Blue Spirit waited there.

‘Uncle had a saying about this, didn’t he? Something about spiders and parlors and flies?’, But thinking about Iroh only made his gut clench – Zuko shook his head. Below his feet, the Blue Spirit waited, in the crystallized ruins of ancient Ba Sing Se, where he had spoken with the Water Tribe girl, fought the Avatar, and betrayed his uncle.

‘Well, you knew you would have to come back here, sooner or later,’ he told himself sardonically. With a dark chuckle, he descended into the green-limned twilight.

Prepared for, even expecting an attack, Zuko landed in a skillful tumble that enabled him to draw his swords in one fluid motion to parry any assault. Rather disappointingly, nothing happened and Zuko regained his footing, swords at the ready as he scanned the crystal-populated chamber. The jade light of the crystals was brighter even than the moonlight above (brighter than he remembered); he had to blink several times until his eyes adjusted.

The Blue Spirit, ever patient, ever mocking, crouched atop a melted jumble of crystal that Zuko recognized oh-too-well.

“All right, I’ve palyed your little game of chase,” he snarled, ignoring the grave echoes of Iroh’s last counsel that sounded in his ears even as he spoke, “Who are you? Why are you wearing that mask?”

In all honesty, he did not expect an answer – that would have been far too simple from a denizen of the Spirit World.

The mask clattered to the ground, skidding to a stop at his feet, its empty eye-sockets and mouth revealing that it indeed was nothing more than painted wood.

“For someone who threw that away, you’re awfully possessive of it,” a low voice observed scornfully.

Zuko started, his attention diverted from the meaningless mask to the voice’s owner.

“Wha-what are you?” he managed, his voice a dry thread of nonsensical sound in his ears. For crouched on that twisted mass of crystal, there was a monster.

A serpentine mark like the tracks of wept blood ran down its pallid right cheek. Its mouth was stretched in a horrifying leer that exposed fangs more fearsome than those carved in the mask that had hidden them. And its eyes… at the sight of them, Zuko felt his inner fire go cold and hard as a lump of coal. Dead white irises floated in sockets of pitch, and yet… Zuko could feel the cunning evil within them.

The monster chuckled – an entirely human sound that made it all the more unsettling for its urbaneness. “You don’t recognize me, do you?” it asked. Something in the inflection, the tone – Zuko knew it from somewhere, but how…? “That’s kinda insulting, but I suppose I understand – I barely recognized you in that get-up. Maybe these will help you remember?”

So saying, the monster leapt from its perch, its cloak falling from its shoulders. Twin blades, so very different from Zuko’s own, materialized in its taloned hands, gleaming in the crystal-light.

There was no mistaking them. “Jet…?” Zuko asked in disbelief.

“Oh, you do remember – it’s rather flattering for an Earth Kingdom peasant like me to be remembered by someone like the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. Then again,” the thing that claimed to be Jet paused, considering, “I’m not so much an Earth Kingdom peasant anymore, just like you’re not so much the Crown Prince, huh?”

Zuko, still in the grips of shock, let the barb slide. “Is this a dream?” he asked, bewildered, “What happened to you?”

“This and that – long story, kinda boring,” answered Jet with a shrug and a smirk, “But no – this isn’t a dream. Matter of fact…”

Zuko blinked – Jet had vanished.

“… this is a very real matter of life and death,” Jet finished, bringing down the spear-headed pommel of his right hook-sword on the back of Zuko’s neck. Zuko dove out of the way, feeling the collar of his tunic tear as the barest razor edge sliced through it.

“You brought me out all this way just to kill me?!” he demanded, righteous anger (mercifully) replacing dulling fear.

“Not ‘just’ kill you, but yeah, I planned to get around to that eventually,” Jet replied conversationally, not bothering to follow up on his initial attack, “You see, we never really finished that fight before – you didn’t use fire, and I wouldn’t have messed around trying to expose you if had known you really were. Here you’re free to use your firebending however much you want.”

Zuko shook his head incredulously. “I have no reason to fight you – all I want to know is what the hell you’re doing here and why you have my mask!” ‘And why you look like a resurrected corpse.’

“Your mask?” Jet echoed, hooting derisively. He bent down and picked up the object in question. “As I recall, the old man told you this was a part of your past you should throw away, which you did. What does it matter that a monster hides his face behind a painted demon’s?” He raised the mask to his face so that half remained uncovered, his single opalescent eye staring back at Zuko.

“What happened to you?” Zuko repeated in frustration, not liking the way Jet was turning the conversation into a game of riddles.

“Let’s just say… I’m not the completely person I used to be,” Jet said, suddenly unsmiling and deadly serious, tossing the mask to one side, “I have my own questions, Prince Zuko, and I’ll have them answered before I’m finished with you.”

“You make it sound like killing me is something easy,” Zuko sneered, rage and fire pounding through his blood.

“Not easy, no – fun, yes, most definitely,” replied Jet, “No holding back this time.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Zuko attacked first, a simple, flameless double overhead strike that Jet parried, slipping out of Zuko’s maii.

“Your new life is treating you well, I see,” Jet observed, diverting Zuko’s center thrust with the crescent crossguard of his left hook-sword and stepping to one side to avoid the follow-on slash. “At least you’re no longer dressed like a ragged refugee.” To accent his point, Jet used his right hook to tear a rent across the front of Zuko’s tunic. “Silk, right?”

Zuko growled and unleashed his first fire attack, a wave of flame swinging up into Jet’s face, which his opponent avoided by leaping back just in time.

“At least I’m not decked out like a corpse for a funeral,” he spat, “A peasant’s funeral, at that.”

“Ah, hm…” Jet glanced down at his ragged white hakama and the body wrappings that floated about him like trailing shrouds, “Can’t really help that bit.”

Zuko knew there was something inherently wrong in that statement, but he did not have the time or inclination to puzzle it out. The fight had gone to his head. Perhaps it was Jet’s mockery, perhaps it was the place – more likely, it was the weeks of Azula’s smug, satisfied preening and the knowledge that he had subjugated himself willingly to her for a false hope and betrayed the only person in the world who gave a damn about him in the process. He pressed the attack, unleashing an onslaught of steel and flame that gave Jet no opening to counterattack, until…

Jet broke away, leaping well beyond the range even of Zuko’s firebending. “You’ve really improved,” he remarked, surprisingly unsarcastic, “Well, at least that’s one thing the old man can take pride in. Truth be told, I not sure if I believe what he told me about you.”

Zuko checked himself. “You’ve spoken with Uncle Iroh?” he gasped, knowing that Jet could be lying, that this could just be a distraction tactic. But if… dread certainty took hold. “What have you done to him!?”

Jet grinned, met Zuko’s next haphazard attack, parried, and escaped again. “Nothing worse than what you’ve already done to him. Granted, that would include sticking a dagger in his back…”

“SHUTUP!!!” Zuko was beyond reason now, all cool and logic thrown on the flames fed by anger and hate. All that mattered was that Jet answer, that he be blotted out, that his mocking words would no longer cut to the very heart of Zuko’s own self-loathing.

The crystal chamber exploded in searing white-hot flame.

Nearly spent, Zuko drew his shuddering limbs into stillness as the fires dissipated. All around him, crystal slag hardened and cooled, splintering in some cases in the barely breathable air. Where Jet had stood, nothing remained excepted smoking rock.

“Impressive – but you can’t kill me. Yet,” a soft voice sounded almost regretfully in his ear.

Zuko whirled, sword swinging up… an iron hand crushed around his windpipe, launching him bodily into the air, his flight brought to a crashing halt by a scorching hot wall of half-melted crystal. Zuko screamed in agony and rolled away, losing his grip on his swords in the process.

Before he could recover his weapons, his footing, his senses, he was hauled up into the air once again by a single hand around his throat.

Through the haze of pain and loss of air, Zuko gaped helplessly into the merciless bone-white gaze that glared up at him. “Playtime’s over, your Highness,” Jet informed him simply, ignoring Zuko’s feeble attempts to kick free, to dislodge his choking hold. “As you are now, you can’t kill me – I’ve confirmed that. That was the second reason for me bringing you to this place.”

‘I… I can’t firebend!’ Zuko realized in panic, feeling an odd sense of dislocation that had nothing to do with his steadily decreasing supply of oxygen.

“You won’t be able to firebend for some time – you see, my spirit is so polluted that if a normal person touched me, they would die very quickly. For benders, since your abilities are tied to your spiritual well-being… well, let’s just say you’d better listen up if you don’t want this to be permanent.”

Zuko worked his lips into a defiant sneer, which Jet ignored. “Tell me, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, son of Firelord Ozai and Lady Ursa, why did you betray your uncle? Why would you aid in killing the Avatar? For glory? For power? For honor?” In a gesture of apparent disgust, Jet released Zuko, who collapsed bonelessly to the ground.

“Tell me why you want to be Firelord,” Jet continued mercilessly, crouching down and hauling Zuko up by the front of his torn tunic, “Will you end this war? Or will you carry it on, crushing those who resist you, until your hands are as bloodstained as your ancestors? What makes you so deserving of power? What makes you so deserving of honor? Why are you doing this?!”

Zuko wheezed, fighting the rushing tide of darkness that was pulling him further from Jet’s voice, from anger, from hate, from pain.

“I expect an answer when next we meet,” Jet whispered to him, “For now, sleep, dream – you are not yet among the damned.”

The dark claimed Zuko and he heard, felt, saw nothing more….

------

“You did not kill him,” the Shadow observed.

The Spirit grunted noncommittally in response.

“Why not? He is the son of the man whose nation killed your family, and set you on this dark path.”

“He is… different. To kill him now would be merciful – now, he is as I was, and death would be an escape. When he has something to lose… then I will kill him.”

“You lie.”

“Perhaps.”

The Shadow remained silent for some time. “In truth,” it began again, “he still has a part to play…”

“And questions to answer…”

(to be continued...)

-------------

A/N: Essentially, Jet asks all the questions I want to ask pertaining to Zuko's actions in the Season 2 finale. One of the reasons I find Zuko's attitude so hard to swallow is that I'm verrrrry suspicious of those who claim power is their "right" - why, exactly, does Zuko want to be Firelord? What justification does he have?

Jetko fans, read whatever you want into this... :D

I HAVE A JOB!!

2007-04-11T15:31:07Z

Wow, I've been neglecting this journal... hm. Guess I'll just post my good news: I HAVE A JOB!!! (yes, I know, I said that already - but, squeeeeeee~!)

Today was my interview for a teacher's assistant position for the undergrad English classes here at the school. Ii had been told by one of the program's managers that I wouldn't be considered because I lacked a teacher's recommendation, but a friend gave me the e-mail address of another person on the board and I sent him my resume on Monday. Tuesday, I get an e-mail saying if I can make the interview at 1000 the next day, I might have a chance.

This morning, I got my full resume and schedule together and set out for the interview. Turns out, I read the e-mail wrong - it said to go to the "new building study room" Well, there are THREE new buildings on campus: one is the new student union, one with classrooms, and the other is admin. I figured the e-mail was talking about the classrooms. For nearly twenty minutes, I was running around, trying to find the "study room."

Oh, did I mention I was in a suit and heels? And I'd actually styled my hair?

I couldn't find the interview room and it was already five minutes past. Thinking I was already too late, I went to the old admin building, and asked someone there if they had any idea where the interviews might be. A guy working there said, "Probably the new admin building."

Now, I'd already tried there, but I had shown up half an hour early and no one had been in the building, but I figured, hell, I had nothing to lose. So I literally ran my high-heeled self over there, and spotted a guy JUST PUTTING OUT THE SIGN SAYING "ENGLISH TA INTERVIEWS HERE"!!

Almost in tears (in relief and fear), I asked, "Am I too late?" And the guy putting sign says, "No - you're the first person!"

They hand me a brief on the program, which I read through. Meanwhile, other condidates showed up (I noticed none of them are in suits. Apparently, that's ops normal for on-campus jobs, despite the fact that EVERY OTHER INTERVIEW for any job trough the school requires a full suit. *headdesk*) Anyway, I had a brief chat with the three guys running the interviews, and they told me I'd get an e-mail this evening if I'd been taken on.

Well, after a rather trying day of meeting with my supervisor (who pretty much had nothing helpful to say about my starting over on my thesis other than that he expected the new first and second chapters in a week!), I checked my mail - AND THE ACCEPTANCE E-MAIL WAS THERE!!

I'll be working four out of five weekdays, maybe eight hours a week all together. I might apply for other part-time jobs, who knows, but it'll be great to have job I can just walk to.

And hopefully, tomorrow, I learn whether or not I can change my supervisor and get away from the mean nasty man who was making me cry over the last couple of months.

Five Days and Counting...

2007-02-01T05:48:49Z

Man, it’s been a mad-crazy couple of weeks. (^_^’) I changed my thesis topic and retook statistics for reasons beyond my understanding. About the only thing that kept me clinging to sanity was the knowledge that I’d be seeing my family soon. (^_^) I guess they matter to me a whole lot more than I ever realized. I’ll have a more substantial update when I spend eight hours on lay-over in Narita.

And randomly, just some things to amuse you:

My school has its own brand of ready-made curry. How cool is that?

Prezzies for Michy! Regular and “special edition” Pocky:

Freedom Fighters: 5th Post

2007-01-30T12:09:40Z

Artist: sylvacoer
Characters: Freedom Fighters

Theme(s): Yin Yang :: Legend :: AC: WildChild :: AC: Always

# of icons in post: 4
# of icons completed total: 55/100
Credits: Screencaps from AvatarSpirit.net; Fire Bender.com

Other Resources (Brushes, Patterns)

Teaser:

(^_^)

001. Soft	002. Forgiveness	003. Loneliness	004. Abandoned	005. Smile

006. Tears	007. Sunshine	008. Blue	009. Honorable	010. Food

011. Spiritual	012. Candlelit	013. Journey	014. Jealousy	015. Fairytale

016. Awkward	017. Trust	018. Destiny	019. Home	020. Seasons

021. Opposites	022. Quarrel	023. Yin Yang	024. Blackmail	025. Pride

026. Legend	027. Smirk	028. Monster	029. Why me?	030. Melody

031. Sacrifice	032. Run	033. Unexpected	034. Sweet Dreams	035. Dress up

036. Safe	037. Colors	038. Facade	039. Prejudice	040. Trapped

041. Breaking Point	042. No Going Back	043. Pose	044. Meet Again	045. A Vision

046. Promise	047. Shine	048. Listen	049. Seeing Red	050. Animal

ARTIST'S CHOICE

051. Portrait: Jet	052. Portrait: Smellerbee	053. Portrait: Longshot	054. Portrait: Pipsqueak	055. Portrait: The Duke

056. Portrait: Sneers	057. Chibi: Jet	058. Chibi: Smellerbee	059. Chibi: Longshot	060. Chibi: Pipsqueak

061. Chibi: The Duke	062. Chibi: Sneers	063. Close-up	064. Nuts	065. WILDCHILD

066. Lost Soul	067. Little Soldier	068. Fortress	069. Quarrel (redux)	070. Fair Play

071. Always	072.	073.	074.	075.

076.	077.	078.	079.	080.

081.	082.	083.	084.	085.

086.	087.	088.	089.	090.

091.	092.	093.	094.	095.

096.	097.	098.	099.	100.

NOTE: "WildChild" and "Always" use art from my Smellershot doujin, WildChild 01. Belonging Place.

Freedom Fighters: 4th Post

2007-01-19T05:18:22Z

Artist: sylvacoer
Characters: Freedom Fighters

Theme(s): AC: 051-063; 070

# of icons in post: 28

# of icons completed total: 51/100

Credits: Screencaps from AvatarSpirit.net; Fire Bender.com

Other Resources (Brushes, Patterns)

Teasers:

(^_^)

001. Soft	002. Forgiveness	003. Loneliness	004. Abandoned	005. Smile

006. Tears	007. Sunshine	008. Blue	009. Honorable	010. Food

011. Spiritual	012. Candlelit	013. Journey	014. Jealousy	015. Fairytale

016. Awkward	017. Trust	018. Destiny	019. Home	020. Seasons

021. Opposites	022. Quarrel	023. Yin Yang	024. Blackmail	025. Pride

026. Legend	027. Smirk	028. Monster	029. Why me?	030. Melody

031. Sacrifice	032. Run	033. Unexpected	034. Sweet Dreams	035. Dress up

036. Safe	037. Colors	038. Facade	039. Prejudice	040. Trapped

041. Breaking Point	042. No Going Back	043. Pose	044. Meet Again	045. A Vision

046. Promise	047. Shine	048. Listen	049. Seeing Red	050. Animal

Artist's Choice:

051. Portrait: Jet	052. Portrait: Smellerbee	053. Portrait: Longshot	054. Portrait: Pipsqueak	055. Portrait: The Duke

056. Portrait: Sneers	057. Chibi: Jet	058. Chibi: Smellerbee	059. Chibi: Longshot	060. Chibi: Pipsqueak

061. Chibi: The Duke	062. Chibi: Sneers	063. Close-up	064. Nuts	065. wILDcHILD

066. Lost Soul	067. Little Soldier	068. Fortress	069. Quarrel (redux)	070. Fair Play

071.	072.	073.	074.	075.

076.	077.	078.	079.	080.

081.	082.	083.	084.	085.

086.	087.	088.	089.	090.

091.	092.	093.	094.	095.

096.	097.	098.	099.	100.

Icons 35, 51-62 + 70 use my own fanart, which can be found @ my devART gallery.

Freedom Fighters: 3rd Post

2007-01-15T08:17:51Z

Artist: sylvacoer
Characters: Freedom Fighters

Theme(s): 001. Soft :: 002. Forgiveness :: 007. Sunshine :: 028. Monster :: 029. Why me? :: 037. Colors :: 043. Pose :: 049. Seeing Red

# of icons in post: 8
# of icons completed total: 23/100

Credits: Screencaps from AvatarSpirit.net; Fire Bender.com Other Resources (Brushes, Patterns)

Teasers:

Plz Credit if you take!

(^_^)

1	2	3	4	5

6	7	8	9	10

11	12	13	14	15

16	17	18	19	20

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44	45

46	47	48	49	50

sylvacoer @ 2007-01-09T22:50:00

2007-01-09T14:00:15Z

Second post! And I fixed the gap!

Artist: sylvacoer
Characters: Freedom Fighters

Theme(s): 003. Loneliness :: 005. Smile :: 010. Food :: 020. Seasons :: 021. Opposites :: 022. Quarrel :: 041. Breaking Point :: 047. Shine

# of icons in post: 9
# of icons completed total: 15/100

Preview:
Credits: Screencaps from AvatarSpirit.net; Fire Bender.com

Other Resources (Brushes, Patterns)

(^_^)

1	2	3	4	5

6	7	8	9	10

11	12	13	14	15

16	17	18	19	20

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44	45

46	47	48	49	50

Akemashite Omedeto Gozaimasu! (A Week Late…)

2007-01-07T11:16:43Z

Happy New Year’s, y’all! Sorry this post is so late in coming, but eaurgh, it’s coming down to the wire on my thesis proposal and project reports for my other classes. (^_^’) At least I have a month’s vacation in Hawaii to look forward to!

Though not really, as I’ll be in the U of H library, tracking down resources…. boo. *~*). As some of you might know, I spent the balance of my break in Oita with my relatives on my grandma’s side. My mom’s cousin, Mika, who is DEH AWESOME, took me in from day one, loaning me out to various cousins who asked me to sleep over at their house. (^~^)

But the very first thing I did was help in my cousin Ichiro’s bakery. In Japan, because the New Year is a very important holiday (and also because an understandable lack of Christian influences), Christmas is only celebrated with a simple cake and maybe some gifts. But I had fun – two days straight of cleaning and cutting up at least a gross of flats of strawberries for Christmas cakes did nothing to dim my appreciation of the fruit, and it was loads of fun helping put the cakes together!

:: ::

I wasn't kidding when I said it was a lot of strawbs, ne? (^_^) :: It took a lot of willpower to not sneak some of the icing when I was putting those cakes together... :: I sooooo wanted to try my hand at the spinny-cake-decorator thing, but since my cousin was trying to get work done, I didn't ask. *sighs* :: And aren't those cakes cute?! :: The other cakes as well looked so yummy... *drools at the memory* :: Some special delivery orders came in, and costumed help was on the way! The last pic is of me in front of my cousin's bakery Reve le Blanc.

I had a chance to try my hand at ike-bana (flower-arranging) when I spent a couple days with my cousin Kaiyo, as she is a professional teacher. I think it looks pretty good, but that’s only because she helped me so much!

New Years means mochi (rice cakes) in Japan, not champagne. I didn’t even drink a beer the whole three days of celebration! But I loved helping my cousin Mika get the mochi ready, and dang – they were yummy! (I’ve just realized how much this post centers on food…

:: ::

Mochi require a special rice that my cousin soaked for a whole day before we actually made them :: The little brown balls are anko, sweet red-bean paste that you wrap the mochi dough around ::: And that stuff comes out hot! My cousin has a special machine that turns the cooked rice into dough, which is good, because I don't know how long I could have pounded the mass witha heavy wooden mallet (the traditional way!) :: Making mochi si about speed and precesion, none of which I had as a rank beginner :: At least mine don't look all bad - see if you can pick 'em out! :: A special layered mochi offering for the house kami (guardian spirit).

New Years also means shrine visits and hatsu hi no de, the first sunrise. I went with my cousin to a small shrine at midnight and prayed for my grandma and great-aunt (both in the hospital) and help with my thesis (^_^'). I figure God can hear me wherever I am! A few hours later, I drove out to another shrine with my great uncle for the first sunrise. The shrine was on top of the moutain, and it was bitterly cold - but the keepers were passing out hot, steaming bamboo cup of something sweet, which I gladly took.

:: ::

I reiterate - it was really freakin' cold up on that mountain! :: But the sunrise certainly made up for it. The people started cheering "banzai!" and throwing up their hands, which caught me by surprise, but I did it as well so as not to look like the clueless gai-jin. (^_^')

Random pictures:

:: ::

My cousin's cat, Hana, in her favorite position in her favorite spot in the whole house (right in fron of the heater!) Japanese houses most often do not have central heating, so only one room is eated at a time with a space heater or kotastu (heated table). I have a theory that the comparative closeness of family ties in Japan versus the United States has an awful lot to do with the lack of central heating in the former... (^.^) :: Hana also enjoys being cleaned with a lint-roller. (o-0) :: Not my kid! He's the son of Mika's nephew, and he's about the happiest baby I've ever met. I couln'd help playing with that tufty hair of his...

Happy New Year, and may 2007 be a good one!!

[Avatar_Icon100::Freedom Fighters] Resource List

2007-01-06T08:19:41Z

Artist: sylvacoer
Characters: Freedom Fighters

Resources:

Under the cut!

Brushes:

LiveJournal:

contradictz
dearest
carbon_paper   /haito
ewanism
myrasis
hexicons

Deviant Art:

NotFadeAway
Scully7491
veredgf

Other:

Absolute Trouble
Angelic Trust.net

Patterns:

colorfilter
seriouslywir
lunchbox
Absolute Trouble

[Avatar_Icon100::Freedom Fighters] First Post!

2007-01-06T08:08:59Z

I've decided to engage in the avatar_icon100 challenge here on LJ to give Jet, Smellerbee, Longshot (and the rest of the Freedom Fighters!) the love they deserve! (^_^) So, here's the first post (I'm not including the 50 "Artist's Choice" section just yet because... well... you'll see...)

Artist: sylvacoer
Characters: Freedom Fighters

Theme(s): Tears :: Blue :: Fairytale :: Trust :: Home :: No Going Back

# of icons in post: 6
# of icons completed total: 6
Screencap Credits: AvatarSpirit.net; Fire Bender.com

Resources (Brushes, Patterns)

.:FREEDOM FIGHTERS:. avatar_icon100
001. Soft	002. Forgiveness	003. Loneliness	004. Abandoned	005. Smile

006. Tears	007. Sunshine	008. Blue	009. Honorable	010. Food

011. Spiritual	012. Candlelit	013. Journey	014. Jealousy	015. Fairytale

016. Awkward	017. Trust	018. Destiny	019. Home	020. Seasons

021. Opposites	022. Quarrel	023. Yin Yang	024. Blackmail	025. Pride

026. Legend	027. Smirk	028. Monster	029. Why me?	030. Melody

031. Sacrifice	032. Run	033. Unexpected	034. Sweet Dreams	035. Dress up

036. Safe	037. Colors	038. Facade	039. Prejudice	040. Trapped

041. Breaking Point	042. No Going Back	043. Pose	044. Meet Again	045. A Vision

046. Promise	047. Shine	048. Listen	049. Seeing Red	050. Animal

As you can plainly see, my html skillz leave much to be desired. (^_^') I decided it would be kinder not to inflict TWO tables of fearsome suckiness on LJ at once, not until I have the balance of my Artist's Choice completed!

P.S. - 015. Fairytale uses a manip created by me that will remain safely on my hard-drive to ensure I will not be sporked by my fellow Zutarians.

Christmas Card

2006-12-23T04:29:50Z

To all my friends and family:

I'm missing you this Christmas holiday, and wish you could be here

(nothing like celebrating Christmas in a hot spring! ^_^)

My Xmas Stocking

2006-12-17T10:41:51Z

My imout-chan gave me the idea. (dude, three posts in one day - i need to lay off the double-strength mochas...)

Xmas Stocking

leave a gift for sylvacoer

get your stocking

OMGDEHSNOW~!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-12-17T07:06:40Z

IT'S SNOWING!!!! *presses nose against glass and hums Let It Snow while grinning like a madwoman* I thought it seemed awfully cold coming back from Mass today. Dude, wouldn't you know it, it's Gaudete Sunday and everything, and now I'm seeing my first snow in Japan!!! *squeeing* I'm sure that's nothing special to any of y'all living in colder climes, but for someone who's been living in Texas and Hawaii for the last several years, this is really special!

*pries now-cold nose off glass to go make hot coco*

Emotional Rollercoaster (wheeeeee~)

2006-12-07T13:08:10Z

Still alive and kickin' here, tho given the stuff we're covering in stats now, that might not last for very long...

One of the hardest things about living here is that i'm so far away from home (duuuuuhhhhhh....)

But I mean that not just in a physical sense, but also emotionally and... I dunno, empathically(?) I liked being around my family, no matter how it might have seemed differently to them, and not being able to talk to them everyday (especially Michy) is really hard. So that's why when packages arrive from family and friends, I get a little emotional.

For example, my godmother sent me a very special christmas present - the stocking my grandma (now passed) knitted for her while she was in college. It looks so much like the one I've used at home since I don't know when, I thought she had asked my family to send it to her so she could send it to me. But then I read her note, and she said the gift was from her AND grandma. I got so emotional I ran into the kitchen and hugged the first person I saw (after asking, "Can I hug you? I need a hug" first, of course!).

And then, my friend's package showed up - I now share my bed with Badtz Maru and a bear named "Pookie" - thanks Bobby! *glomp!*

In other news... I think master's advisor's been kidnapped by Pod People - he's so freakin' cheerful and helpful and NICE these days, it's really starting to scare me. (O-o) But things went more true to form when I brought up my February-March - he looked at me like I had grown an extra head. Apparently, he was under the impression that I was going to haunt the library the whole time (since the dorms are closed during the break). I'm waiting till he gets back from Laos to negotiate my leave of absence (which is now looking closer to mid-February!). I'll make it so I'm actually doing field work - tapping the resources at U of H and elsewhere while I'm home! Hopefully, that flies with him, and I can go home. It means submitting my proposal a month early, but I think I can just make it.

*knocks on wood*

Avatar Icon Post.

2006-10-22T13:46:23Z

Various shippage icons: Smellershot, Zutara, JetMai

Set One: Smellershot

Fanart-based:

Screenshots:

Set Two: Zutara (Please Remember Me)

Set Three: JetMai

Fanart-based:

Screenshots:

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I found good kimchee~!

2006-10-22T13:07:16Z

Dear Lord in Heaven, I thank thee ON MY KNEES that I have finally found the HOLY GRAIL of my palate - GOOD KIMCHEE! *spazzes*

Seriously, tho, people - if you think I'm exaggerating, you don't know what it's like to be suddenly deprived of your favorite food, and when you go looking for it, finding only things that share the name and the appearance and nothing of the flavor.

I HAVE EATEN SWEET KIMCHEE, AND IT SUXS, SUXS LIKE LIKE LIEK~~~ *sylva is at a loss for words and begins to weep* I don't know why, but all the mass-produced kimchee in this country is sweet, which is all kinds of wrong. I have begun stalking the Korean undergrads on my floor, who, out of the kindness of their hearts, have given some of their direct-from-home supply. *teary eyes, sniffles*

I also found that Joyull restaraunts (the Japanese equivalent of Denny's) serve a very yummy kimchee and rice soup that's fairly inexpensive. *cries joyful tears.. and gets thwapped for the pun* A Kenyan grad student suggested the place as we were wandering around Beppu after Mass (P.S. - sylva is now the lead tenor in the choir. Don't ask.) - I hugged her afterwards, and she got a little creeped out, but that's okay, I FOUND MY HAPPY PLACE!!!

(and not that one - get your minds outta the gutter!)

Oooo, last night was the floor party, which I stupidly volunteered to be point man for at the beginning of the semester - my RAs came by the day before and reminded me, which was a good thing. They also came downtown with me to do the fastest mass-quantity consumable shopping trip ever, which was also a good thing. I call them Mom and Otou-san now (Mom's from Nigeria, Otou-san's from Hokkaido). On the fly, I decided to do spaghetti carbenara and crepes, because I had found a restaraunt wholesale store where I could get loads of pasta and olive oil cheaply, as well as a savignon blanc for less than 400 yen a bottle (it's a 2005, so that tells you all you need to know. *shudders*)

The crepes were a huge success, since everyone who wanted to could try their hand at it - we have twenty kids from ten countries on my floor alone, so it was awesome seeing everyone hanging out, eating and cooking together. Reminded me so much of home that I had to go to my room to dry my eyes. For one of the fillings, I made banana's foster, which is a New Orlean's dessert made banana's, butter, vanilla, and RUM. Very popular, as you can imagine.

So, that's how it's been going - I have a huge research presentation project on which I have little direction and less clue on how to go about. I'm so screwed on that aspect, but hey - at least I had one last good meal!

They're alright

2006-10-16T05:20:33Z

My family in Hawaii just got word out to me via Bobby - they're all okay, just a little shaken up from the earthquake. Thanks be to God.

Too old for this (s****); fanvid dump

2006-10-08T10:22:25Z

Wow, what a surprise – college dorms are pretty dead on weekends.

Thank God, I can lie down on my bed and whimper undisturbed. Last night was the dorm soccer tourney – it’s been about … 6 years since I last played? And of course, being the type-A that I am, I threw myself into the game, as an American and as a woman. And made a complete ass of myself in the process. I’m hyper-aggressive, loud, and kinda slow. I took advantage of the fact that most Asian guys shrink from in-your-face women to steal the ball more than a couple of times, and kept up a running yelling/screaming monologue on the game. We got stomped. Twice. But I worked out a lot of aggression that’s been building up the last week or so.

Feh – now I’m paying for it with muscle aches and exhaustion. Thank goodness I have a Costco-sized bottle of ibuprofen from home! (^-^)

So far, I’ve managed to demonstrate to my master’s advisor that I’m either incompetent or just lazy. I missed the first class of the semester due to a misunderstanding on my part, so now I’m on his shit list. *whimper*

But the good new is, I have two shiny care packages from home! *huggles family* Thanks guys! Now I have nice knives (^-^), tuna, spices, powdered milk, and English Breakfast tea. *weeps for joy* I also got to talk with them over the wireless. It was tough hearing my little sister's voice especially, since I miss her the most! (*~*) *wibble*

So, that’s the news from the front. Now for the fandom dump:

“Avatar: The Last Airbender” Fanvids (posted @ YouTube):

Aang Powers: Exclusive Preview! (02:31 )

WINNER OF THE

avatar_vids AUGUST 2006 CONTEST!!

I would have done this properly, starting from the first Austin Powers movie, if I could - but since I could only get the preview for "Goldmember"... *shrugs*

Michael Caine voice-acting for Iroh! Wheeeeeee~! I am aware Zuko fangirls are probably going to kill me, tho. (^_^')

Tell Me a Story… (04:08 )

... of a mystical land in peril...
... of the heroes who will save it...
... of a quest for wisdom beyond the ages...

(^_^)

This particular vid has been in the works ever since I stumbled into the Avatar fandom. I am absolutely in LOVE with SeeSaw's music, and found its haunting, unearthly quality quite suited for the show.

Avatar's Hyperactivity (01:49)

The result of a very bad day, too much chocolate and green tea, and a DDR soundtrack.

You have been warned.

(more)

"Der Weg zum Krieg" (3:24)

"The Path to War" - entry for

avatar_vids September contest "Tragedy."

"Your fate is to end the war. You may lose your friends, you may lose yourself - but you must not fail."

Is there any instrument more beautiful than the cello? Absolutely not. That is why Apocalyptica rocks. I knew the moment I saw "Secret of the Fire Nation" that pretty much anything by Apocalyptica is perfect for Azula and her fighting style.

-------------------------------

These vids span about 3 months worth of video-editting all together. Wow, ain’t insomnia great? (Next post: Deh Fanart Dump!!)

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Sylvacoer's Domain

*bats away cobwebs*

Whoa...

GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!11one!!

Okay, now it’s getting silly…

[FANFIC] Racheakt: Face-off

[FANFIC] Truth

Freedom Fighter Brand: Bee

[FANFIC] Racheakt: Enquiry

I HAVE A JOB!!

Five Days and Counting...

Freedom Fighters: 5th Post

Freedom Fighters: 4th Post

Freedom Fighters: 3rd Post

sylvacoer @ 2007-01-09T22:50:00

Akemashite Omedeto Gozaimasu! (A Week Late…)

[Avatar_Icon100::Freedom Fighters] Resource List

[Avatar_Icon100::Freedom Fighters] First Post!

Christmas Card

My Xmas Stocking

OMGDEHSNOW~!!!!!!!!!!!

Emotional Rollercoaster (wheeeeee~)

Avatar Icon Post.

I found good kimchee~!

They're alright

Too old for this (s****); fanvid dump

bats away cobwebs

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