April 3rd, 2005

Cyteen

A couple days, a couple nights, and chain reactions in the refrigerator and out

When I finally fell asleep again after wrangling with the alarm clock that was smarter than it thought I should be, I dreamed that Torg, Aylee, and Bugs Bunny were doing something or other, and ran afoul of this shape-changing creature that had more drama per cubic inch than most things. It had changed, and was currently being a pseudo-dragon, and from encounters previously, had decided that it didn't like Torg. They ran into each other on a narrow balcony pathway.

"I trigger on abusers!" the thing said shrilly. It recognized Torg, but it was playing the game where it was freaking out on purpose over anything and everything just on principle. It wasn't about to let Torg and company past. Torg huffed off and went to take the elevator, but came back shortly. The thing taunted Torg about his supposed past as an abuser (of people/animals, it sounded like from context) and how someone else must have recognized him for what he was supposed to have been.

"Actually, it was a run-in with an uppity automated pulse sensor in the elevator, set for 110," Torg sniped back, and he and his party passed the thing (there was plenty of room to pass), each of them brushing close to the thing on purpose and touching it just to piss it off.

The alarm clock decided that it was Daylight Savings Time, and shifted itself an hour early without telling me. Since Arizona doesn't hold with that heathen custom, when my alarm went off at "6:30", then I snoozed it for 27 minutes, by the time I pried myself out of bed, it was still only actually 5:57. Snaa, hiss.

Last night, bad things happened in the refrigerator. In reaching for a jar of olives, I managed to knock over an open container of potsticker dipping sauce, and while I was trying to deal with that mess, boom went a cup of milk. So much for not spilling anything in the refrigerator... Cleanup was annoying.

I did very little for April Fool's Day, actually. I didn't even wind up sending off an e-mail to Darkside until after midnight. I did wear sparkly fishnet stockings to work, though no one outside of the ordinary commented except for one of the older monitors' commentary on safety with stockings and circulation. *sigh* Which is valid, but that isn't the point of sparkly fishnet stockings.

The inside of Figment's head is far more complex than the inside of mine, in a large part because I've been in this format for long enough that I don't tend to get surprised by things. He's in flux. This proves interesting for all concerned, especially when he starts experimenting.
  • Current Mood
    chaos, panic, disorder. Oh boy.
flaming, angry

Tact

Today featured one of my worst moments yet for my tact roll.

It's one thing to say what you think. It's entirely another to say exactly what you think without any of the karma bonus modifiers or good history points or any of that, so that what comes out your mouth is the truth, and nothing but the truth, but not entirely the whole truth, just the least socially acceptable and most obnoxious parts of the truth.

I think I'm going to go call Darkside, then go hide in a hole in the ground. I came home from work early because my allergies started kicking my ass.
  • Current Mood
    blunt