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*waves tiredly*
See that icon? That is *so* me. But, i've work yet to do. The last couple days have been hardcore cleaning and packing and moving. Forty minute drive each way, unloading, more cleaning... Today was more of the same with added DSL and Cable-guy antics, which took much longer than anticipated.
Tomorrow - the great move-in, in which our beds and toiletries go to the new house! Wheeeeee! And computers, too. :)
So, i haven't been around, won't be for a couple more days, just lurking but man, so busy.
And so, so tired. Did i mention i was tired?
*yawn*
Anyway - back to getting my desk/computer ready to be loaded up in the morning.
I leave you with a teeny coda to 'The Song of the Treadmill'.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marciaelena wanted to know what it was like when Dean killed the demon. This probably isn't enough to suit, but i hope it still satisfies!
*yawns more*
Okay, this is me, signing out.
In his dreams, the sword is weightless. A shaft of pure light, that hurts to look at. In his dreams, Sam's blood is hot and vital on his tongue, setting him alight – sending seething flame all through his body for just a moment.
In his dreams, he steps across the ward and he can feel it. It's like stepping through a wave at the sea – like walking out of calm into a strong wind, and he falters for a moment. The demon towers over him, and its body is at once a pillar of flame and a twisted rope of raw flesh and blood – bone and maggots and the sheen of sunlight on water. He can't sort it into one or the other, and doesn't want to.
It whispers at him, mocking – curls around him like a snake, making his skin shiver. In his dreams, he's not afraid.
He lifts the sword and brings it down, flashing arc, and the demon screams. Where the sword has cleaved it, it bleeds. Muddied light, like a shoal of tarnished silver fish, fans out from it, dissolving. It ravels apart like a poorly made scarf, essence unspooling into the ether until it sputters into nothing. Gone, just like that, and he grins.
Turns to Sam, to *stranger, brother, lover, other, family* and lifts the sword in half-mocking, half-serious salute.
'Sammy, man, you gotta get you one of these.'
In his dreams, Sam grins back – steps out of the invisible pulse of the ward and yanks him close by a fistful of leather and scarf. 'I think one's plenty, don't you?'
In his dreams, Sam's mouth is cold and chapped and tastes of salt, and coffee, and mint. In his dreams, it takes his breath away – makes heat curl in his belly, makes his heart pound.
In real life, it's ten times better.
Treadmill timestamp.
*super-sekrit missage to Snow...*clings*...
See that icon? That is *so* me. But, i've work yet to do. The last couple days have been hardcore cleaning and packing and moving. Forty minute drive each way, unloading, more cleaning... Today was more of the same with added DSL and Cable-guy antics, which took much longer than anticipated.
Tomorrow - the great move-in, in which our beds and toiletries go to the new house! Wheeeeee! And computers, too. :)
So, i haven't been around, won't be for a couple more days, just lurking but man, so busy.
And so, so tired. Did i mention i was tired?
*yawn*
Anyway - back to getting my desk/computer ready to be loaded up in the morning.
I leave you with a teeny coda to 'The Song of the Treadmill'.
marciaelena wanted to know what it was like when Dean killed the demon. This probably isn't enough to suit, but i hope it still satisfies!*yawns more*
Okay, this is me, signing out.
In his dreams, the sword is weightless. A shaft of pure light, that hurts to look at. In his dreams, Sam's blood is hot and vital on his tongue, setting him alight – sending seething flame all through his body for just a moment.
In his dreams, he steps across the ward and he can feel it. It's like stepping through a wave at the sea – like walking out of calm into a strong wind, and he falters for a moment. The demon towers over him, and its body is at once a pillar of flame and a twisted rope of raw flesh and blood – bone and maggots and the sheen of sunlight on water. He can't sort it into one or the other, and doesn't want to.
It whispers at him, mocking – curls around him like a snake, making his skin shiver. In his dreams, he's not afraid.
He lifts the sword and brings it down, flashing arc, and the demon screams. Where the sword has cleaved it, it bleeds. Muddied light, like a shoal of tarnished silver fish, fans out from it, dissolving. It ravels apart like a poorly made scarf, essence unspooling into the ether until it sputters into nothing. Gone, just like that, and he grins.
Turns to Sam, to *stranger, brother, lover, other, family* and lifts the sword in half-mocking, half-serious salute.
'Sammy, man, you gotta get you one of these.'
In his dreams, Sam grins back – steps out of the invisible pulse of the ward and yanks him close by a fistful of leather and scarf. 'I think one's plenty, don't you?'
In his dreams, Sam's mouth is cold and chapped and tastes of salt, and coffee, and mint. In his dreams, it takes his breath away – makes heat curl in his belly, makes his heart pound.
In real life, it's ten times better.
Treadmill timestamp.
*super-sekrit missage to Snow...*clings*...
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And moving is such a bitch, I feel for you bb. It'll all settle down soon though and you'll get to enjoy new house!
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Yup.
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:)
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*pets you with the mitt-tuns of sustaining love--or maybe you just want some chocolate?*
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Thank you, bay-bee!
*snuggles up under mitt-tuns*
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congrats on seriously moving in, no wonder you're tired!
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And thank you!
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miss you!!
and my, that was gooood, baby. Thank you.
*hugshugshugshugs*
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Thank you thank you.
*snuggles*
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I hope you have a bathtub with lots of bubbles waiting for you once the move is over :)
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A long cool shower will about do me.
:)
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*props feet up*
Thank you so much!
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You're brilliant even when you're tired. ::loves::
I hope the rest of the move goes well! And take a day just to relax and rest after, if you can.
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:) I'm so glad it satisfied. It just popped into my head during one of the back-and-forth drives, and i had to post it fast before it faded.
Tomorrow, my day of rest. Flist-catching-up, i hope!
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Oooh, beautiful imagery! Preeeeety! :D
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Thanks,bay-bee!
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Thanks!
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And there's a coda? I haven't even finished it yet! Vacation is wonderful, but I lose track of stuff so easily...
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And good luck with the move. It's always such a pain but the unpacking and choosing what to do with everything can be kind of satisfying.
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It's nice to be getting things settled.
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When we moved from one to the other, all the contracts went through on the same day, so everyone had to move on the following day - it was blimmin' chaos I can tell you, what with the cats and the fish tanks ...
Hope everything goes smoothly for you!
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Thanks, bay-bee!
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:)
Thanks!
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:)
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and, excuse me for a minute while I..
*does happy dance for Dean-joy x10*
Thank you! too much Dean angst these days, this was sooo needed.
Hope the move went great, and that you find everything after:)
and, umm- were you moving in the midst of storm warnings etc? *bites nails*
Can't remember if all that hit your area- it even hit ours! I think my cat was trying to crawl inside me at one point- can't imagine the state he'd have been in if we were moving at the same time!
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Yeah, Dean needs some happiness.
We've had a lot of weather, yeah, but not too bad for our specific area - mostly all around us while we've just had rain and wind. So, all good! Plus - 70+ year old stone house! We feel safe.
:)
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Thanks, again, for the wonderful read.
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:)
Thank you!
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New-house feel rocks, once you've finally got everything set up, but everything's still just unfamiliar enough to be exciting.
::bounces::
I stopped reading at "teeny coda to Song. . . .", so as not to be spoiled.
I'm like some kind of saint. Only pretteh :)
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I will *never* carpet these floor! OMG!!
*clutches floors to bosom*
Monstrous likes it but no, no friends yet. We're a teeny bit isolated in our neighborhood, how the house is situated. But i'm not worried about it.
New house is *much* cooler.
*spins you*
You *are* a saint!
*boggles*
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And the scarf image--that's from the story, yes? I remember it! Excellent use of a motif!
The last line is just the best, but the imagery of the entire piece, the dream-like quality of it but also the way it meshes beautifully with Sam's witnessing of Dean's slaying of the demon--perfect!
Bravo!
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:) Once the idea was brought up, it seemed obvious that there needed to be this bit of story.
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:)
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Damn. That's--I want more description, yet I don't. It's creepy and fantastic and if this were bible-days, I'd so be turned into a pillar of salt for needing to see every bit of everything, even if the cost was my life.
Turns to Sam, to *stranger, brother, lover, other, family* and lifts the sword in half-mocking, half-serious salute.
'Sammy, man, you gotta get you one of these.'
THAT!
Is so Dean! So perfect!
In his dreams, Sam's mouth is cold and chapped and tastes of salt, and coffee, and mint. In his dreams, it takes his breath away – makes heat curl in his belly, makes his heart pound.
In real life, it's ten times better.
Oh . . . please write more in this 'verse. It's just so--everything.
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I, too, would be condemned to a life of condiments.
:)
I'm hoping i get more inspiration for this 'verse. We shall see.
*hugs*
Thank you thank you, bay-bee. So much.
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Amazing.
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:)
Can i ask where the rec was? A friend-to-friend thing or on a comm?
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