| Heh heh heh |
[Dec. 10th, 2004|05:54 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
Here's what you get when you mix my "real-life" self, ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) dances_withcats, with Ticklepurr:
| The Potion Maker |
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| rowantreenium is a cloudy, crumbly maroon solid obtained from the brain of a fox. | | ticklepurrium is a translucent, grainy mauve powder drawn from the leaves of the eternity tree. | | Mixing rowantreenium with ticklepurrium causes a violent chemical reaction, producing an opaque violet potion which gives the user protection from twisted plans. | | Yet another fun meme brought to you by rfreebern |
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| Week 23, Tuesday morning, Ticklepurr's blog |
[Dec. 4th, 2004|07:31 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  awake | ] |
Hob came by yesterday with a very sweet gift. He's a sweet guy, and a good friend--in a brotherly sense. Well, after he gave me his gift which he "said" was a thank you for being a friend (I was only doing what I had to do, but I'm glad I had the gift of knowing he was in need). Poor guy still can't talk, I wish I could help him with that, too, but I'm a kitchen witch and I know how to help someone with a sore throat, but I don't know how to treat chimerical wounds and curses. Maybe I'll get to know more about that as I continue here at Rowan.
Anyway, when Hob was here I poured out my heart to him. I was so afraid I'd screwed everything up with Alex, running out on dinner and stuff--one of those times when I almost wish I didn't have that Call of the Needy thing, but gods know I'd hate to leave anyone in the lurch, especially a distraught bunny-pooka with a torn dress and a date in ten minutes. I've never felt that thing before, and I'm so clueless about the whole how-to-act-with-someone-you-like-but-are-trying-to-play-it-casual thing...*sigh*....guess I'm just an old-fashioned girl. But Hob, bless his heart, listened to me wail and moan about how I'd made a mess of things and "told" me, "Go to her." Hope I'll work up the nerve soon. :-) |
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| Week 22, Monday night, Ticklepurr's blog |
[Nov. 28th, 2004|07:41 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  melancholy | ] |
Alex came by this afternoon. Gods, I was such a dork! But somehow we both survived the encounter and went to dinner after a bit. We were just starting to have an interesting conversation when Travis showed up. *sigh*
Imagine if you had a choice between Ticklepurr the "cute" little country boggan and Travis the sun-drenched, lusty Satyr. I'd say the poor little boggan girl doesn't stand a chance in hell. :-(
Wow, Alex's outfit was gorgeous, though! Maybe someday I'll be able to sew that well; in the meantime, I'll be glad to admire the work of her courtly tailors...and the body inside it.
Oh, gods, there I go being a dork again. |
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| Week 21, Friday evening: Placement tests |
[Nov. 20th, 2004|11:45 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | shy | ] |
An entry in Ticklepurr's blog:
Friday, Jan. 26, 07:23 pm EST
Title: New Semester Blues, and New Semester...uh...
I have no idea how I did on those placement tests. I hope I didn't totally suck. I really have no idea about cantrips and non-kithain and Concordian history. The only cantrip I really know is one that happened by accident when an injured horse I was helping just about kicked my head in. Gods, what kind of a changeling am I? I don't feel magical at all. Not in that way, anyway. I'm just a kitchen witch from the back woods of Maine, here among all the Beautiful People (tm) who seem to be so much cooler than I am.
What's new?
Oh, gods, Tick, stop the pity party and get on with life.
That GLBTQ alliance meeting was really cool. I didn't expect to see so many people there. And there was this new girl that I really, REALLY want to get to know better. I guess she's a new student, too. Quiet, kinda geeky in the way I like so much, digs computers and stuff from what I hear. She's a Sidhe, though. I wonder if I'd be good enough for her.
*sigh*
The joys of Teen Angst...
Music: The Shroud: Long Ago and Far Away
Mood: shy! |
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| Jan. 19, after Cantrips class |
[Nov. 8th, 2004|01:14 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | calm | ] |
Thank goodness I'm actually getting some of the BASIC stuff I need to know in order to cast cantrips, Ticklepurr thinks, scribbling down her homework assignment in her scheduler. I felt so out of my league coming here so late in the semester. I didn't know ANYTHING. She scans the hallway, looking for people she knows, as she strolls down the hall to her English Lit class.
((OOC: FYI, Ticklepurr's classes for the spring semester are basically the same as last semester because she arrived so late. In her "mundane" classes, she's proceeded to the second semester of the year, but she will repeat her intro fae classes so she actually has time to learn something. Question for GM: Do classes go on for the whole year, or are is Rowan on a semester-based schedule like a university?
So, here are her classes:
- Basic Cantrips
- Intro to Non-Kithain
- Concordian History I
- Intermediate English Literature
- Biology
- Global Studies I
- Computer Applications
- Phys. Ed.))
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| Tuesday evening, week 20, just before the LGBT alliance meeting |
[Nov. 5th, 2004|01:55 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  nervous | ] |
Ticklepurr sits on the bed in her room, scribbling out her last few notes for the next day's Cantrips class. Butterflies tickle her stomach as she thinks about going to the LGBT alliance meeting. I hope there are a bunch of people there, she thinks. I'd hate to be the only one. But then again, I bet everyone there will already be hooked up and they'll know so much more than me about everything. I feel so lame about this whole love and romance thing! It's not like I've never seen it, but I've never had a chance and it feels like everyone in the world has dated and gone all the way there....except me....
Well, there's no way around it. I just have to go and see what happens.
I hope I can make some friends there....and maybe even a friend with benefits, eventually...
She stows her book and binder back on the bookshelf, puts on her coat and boots, and heads for Pine Hall. |
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| Week 16, Wednesday afternoon, Ticklepurr's room |
[Oct. 6th, 2004|02:27 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | happy | ] |
Ticklepurr fills a clay strawberry planter with the last remnants from a bag of topsoil. It was a trick getting the planter and the topsoil from the Agway store to Whiteoak Hall, but it was worth it. As she plants seeds of a variety of herbs in the openings on the sides and top of the planter, she hums to herself. The feeling of dirt on her hands and the magic running through her as she nurses the dried seeds to life fills her with joy.
Finally, with a pleased expression, she pours some purified water into the planter. The soil hungrily soaks it up, and she keeps pouring until it will take no more. Then she places a quartz crystal in the center of the main surface of the pot, places her hands on its sides, closes her eyes, and begins to sing ((OOC--this would be considered a bunk, but in actuality it's more of a spell from her kitchen-witch tradition. I believe the arts/realms I have set up for her would allow such a thing to happen)):
"Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
Gonna mulch it deep and low
Gonna make it fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Gaia, bless these seeds I sow
Gaia, keep them safe below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down
Pullin' weeds and pickin' stones
We are made of dreams and bones
Need a place to call my own
'Cause the time is close at hand
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
Gonna mulch it deep and low
Gonna make it fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Gaia, bless these seeds I sow
Gaia, keep them safe below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down
Grain for grain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature's chain
Till my body and my brain
Tell the music of the land
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
Gonna mulch it deep and low
Gonna make it fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Gaia, bless these seeds I sow
Gaia, keep them safe below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down
Plant your rows straight and long
Season with a prayer and song
Gaia-ma will make you strong
If you give her loving care."
When she opens her eyes again, the planter is abloom with garden herbs and the room is redolent with the smells of oregano, dill, parsley, chives, thyme and basil. She examines the planter with a smile and ties around it a ribbon of green and gold cloth. Finally, she wraps it in a plastic garbage bag to protect it from the cold. As she puts on her parka and hat, she hopes he'll like his gift. |
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| My arrival at Rowan Academy |
[Sep. 24th, 2004|03:56 pm] |
After a ride that seemed to last forever, Aunt Cathy's dusty silver Toyota Celica pulled up in front of Whiteoak Hall. I climbed out of the car and braced myself against the sudden cold. I was glad I'd decided to wear jeans instead of tights under my Indian-print batik dress. I pushed a wayward hair behind my ear and said, "Thanks for the ride, Aunt Cathy! What a great weekend....I'll call you soon...have a safe trip back and tell Mom and Dad I'm fine."
With a shiver, I zipped my jacket as far as it would go before the zipper was choked by my big rainbow-colored woolen scarf. I pulled my Army surplus parachute bag and a backpack out of the open hatchback, closed it behind me, and stood for a moment looking at the edifice before me. The air smells different here, I noticed, missing the salty scent of the Maine coast but thrilled by the crisp late-autumn chill. I hiked my backpack over one shoulder and entered the building.
After a brief search for an office, I found it and checked in. With room key in hand, I ascended two flights of stairs. Old oaken floorboards creaked beneath me, a familiar sound from my farmhouse childhood, and I smiled as I opened the door to the third floor. Pacing down the hallway, observing the numbers until I came to 321, my room for the year. There were two paper nametags on the door; Sara-Jane (me) and Arianrhod. I recognized the name from a Welsh myth book and wondered if this woman would be a Sidhe. The only Sidhe I've ever met are noble elders. I turned the key in the lock, wondering what I'd find behind the door.
The room was empty. My roommate apparently hadn't arrived yet. I thought long and hard about which bed to choose--I certainly didn't want to discombobulate a Sidhe! I tested the mattresses, considered how the room was arranged (and how it could be rearranged), and decided that, all things being equal in the mattress department, I'd take the bed by the window. "If Arianrhod decides she'd prefer this one, I'll be glad to switch," I told the empty room.
I unzipped the parachute bag and bag and pulled out a set of sheets, two pillows, and a homemade-looking patchwork quilt. Unlike the typical "Country design" patchwork quilt, though, this quilt sports images of flowers and medicinal herbs, made out of cloth, under a clear sky. My mother taught me how to sew, I thought, with a slight pang of homesickness, and I remember how proud she was when I showed her this quilt. It's not a Rembrandt, but it reminds me of home.
After I made the bed, I pulled out a small boombox and a wallet of CDs. I decided to listen to The Shroud's In The Garden (a recent gift from Aunt Cathy), and set it to playing softly while I folded and hung up my clothes, put my books on the bookshelf and connected my laptop to the Internet jack by the desk. For a moment I considered getting online for a while and writing some e-mails home..."Naah," I told the room, "I'm never going to meet anyone if I just hang out here. Besides, I'm getting hungry."
Well, I looked at the map of campus and found out where the dining hall was--in the student center--and went out to grab a bite to eat. |
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| first entry |
[Sep. 23rd, 2004|04:52 pm] |
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Hope it's not too late to change my username for the Rowan Academy game. It's confusing using my regular LJ to post in character for that game. :-/ |
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