That would be me. Because I can't stop tweaking this wallpaper. I've added scars (they're subtle--handcuff scars on his wrists, and something...interesting, on his chest). And a couple of facial wounds... I am a horrible person. Mainly I think I'm deflecting because I need to make Janni finally break down and lose it and I'm reluctant to write that scene for some reason. ETA: Er. Icon. *headdesks
x1000. Because, not only did I turn him blond. I emphasized the dark circles under his eyes and darkened the five-o'clock shadow. AND THEN. I added a vampire bite to his wrist. Someone just shoot me.
... In writing news, I've just about decided that I haven't actually broken Ben enough . Okay, yes, horrible trauma, all his buttons getting pushed, yadda yadda. HOWEVER. He does have someone there with him who is trying to assiduously avoid him falling apart on her completely. AND. This stuff? Old hat to him. He knows when he's having a panic attack; he can deal with flashbacks. He's done...
If anyone's seen my Zing hanging around, could you tell it that I miss it terribly and would like it back? I mean, I realize that I've scribbled nearly 180,000 words starring Ben in less than a year, and...thing suddenly stop being interesting to me once I got Ben out of prison? Am I so frakked up that taking him apart is more fun than putting him back together? I think it's entirely possible that I am
...up more than a nice pair of capris and blouse and sandals, so my kinda place We just got back from the Market and it was packed! It's small, but it's a neighborhood market so you'd expect that, and there was still quite a lot of booths. Everyone was busy and running out of inventory in the first couple of hours, which is a marvelous, marvelous thing. We had vegan muffins and bought a bunch of carrots...
... (WTF is it about Thursday?! It's the day before payday, AND it's the pay-or-die date for the water bill and FPL.) I'm home again---I still have stuff at Kat's to retrieve, but I have a major case of There's No Place Like Home going on. I don't care if it's hot here, I don't care if it's a mess. It's QUIET. No one is thundering around on wood floors early in the morning, there are no strange noises...
...it, because he can't even frakking move at that point. So, he gets to relive an Army buddy dying in front of him, while he's helpless to stop it, in technicolor glory--and then he gets to see someone else die in front of him whom he also can't help. And I see you over there going "Buh? Who the Sam Hill is Fifi?" Wolf Girl . Anyway. Guess what that kicks my wordcount up to? 80,000. Whee!
Thank God I backed everything up before I went to bed last night, since there was some kind of power failure in the middle of the night. I came in this morning and the computer had rebooted. I miss MY computer! I want to go home!
I'm not sad about Panic breaking down, because they've never been remotely anything close to my band. I am sad about the amount of the people that I love that it's effected though. I love you all, please...a decent day I've had because lots of you have had shit days, one way or the other. No matter what, we're in this together. /lj/, FIGHT-O! *fistpump* In other news, Captain James Tiberius Kirk.
