November 12th, 2003

fluffy evil!

(no subject)

I'm tired of waiting for this blurb to become a full- fledged story. I have a story half done, but it's supposed to follow this bit. therefore... Here's some world/episode notes that will be Something eventually. Imagine that these are script notes for a cartoon. the dependant story will start to follow soon. No, really, it will.

Anieka proves her worth to the team. About to embark on a training mission, Ryan insists that Anieka be allowed to come aboard the delta flier. Dr. Jansen, forgetting Ryan's sparc, refuses and proceeds to browbeat the team into going against their better judgement.

On the mission, a dud missile slips through Brent's defense and collides with the ship. Deemed " incidental damage" the crew heads for home. But the guidance computer has been knocked off line. Pietro must fly blind with Ryan's help. Kat and Brent are helpless on computer = ''Sorry. Babe. I go in from the front when they're fully functional." Base- to- ship Contact is lost. But not before Anie gets a message through for the slip to circle the base.

Anieka has a back door to every computer on base- including the Delta Flier. Using the radio towers on base to broadcast signal at the resonating frequency of the flyer. She diagnoses the problem and relays which wires shook loose. A ten second problem that Causes a half hour of drama. Anie is implanted and cleared for addition to the team when Jansen finally puts 2 and 2 together. ''It's safer than keeping her on base-- my poor Coffee maker! "
fluffy evil!

(no subject)

i'm reading some really well-written fanfic, drowning my mind in dark music and letting it just wash itself away on a tide of what-ifs and wild imagination. all while trying to perform work functions of concrete data and solid fact. it's like this totally contrary mind-warp that just shows me why drugs and i never got along. who needs 'em? in fact, mind altering substances just keep me from finding the little doorway in my head that leads to all this. what a waste. i wonder if this is where all those really out-there wild artist types find their inspiration, stuffed into the dark corners of their personal universes that we all have but can't see. a place too scary for most to visit, just lock away a part of themselves and let it fester like a wound or else pick at it til they go crazy from what they can't understand. then there's me, and those like me, that find little outs - enough to relieve the pressure so we don't burst, but it's not enough and it isn't what we really mean but at least it's a start. and sometimes it's enough to just let yourself sink into the maelstrom and bask in the chaos like a cat in sun-warmth, not fearing it but letting it have just that little edge of reality that you can enjoy. And then you step back from the edge, having tempted the danger that is insanity enough to feel the rush, but once again secure in your place in this world. I sometimes get frustrated by my own inability to take chances. My sense and fear of mortality developed fast and recently and I'm still learning how to deal with it. But then I realize that I have my own dangers locked in my own mind, and if I allow myself they could very possibly get the better of my rational mind. I flirt with those dangers frequently, where I won't tempt the physical. Perhaps I'm not the coward that I often think, but instead have a bravery - or stupidity - of a less obvious sort. Or maybe I really am insane, with a facade that fools the world and myself enough to function in the Now. I don't question that my body requires oxygen, or that the cars will run and electricity flow; perhaps the outer seeming is all that's truly required, without a proper understanding of the mechanics behind it.

Too much thinking. Read, work, listen. Live.