Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Посмотрели сегодня с Иви еще одну серию второго сезона Сикера, заботливо скачанную Парнасом. Узнаю сценаристов Геракла - игры с переодеванием и флирт мужиков с мужиками. Вообще так, занятно.(с) И там было мало Кейлан, которая меня бесит нереально, что не может не радовать. Я все никак не прочитаю Терри Гудкайнда. сестра бросила после сцены изнасилования девушки минотавром Не знаю... Гудкайнд, конечно, у меня в списке. Но мне че-то не нравится, что все на одну тему, по рассказам. Какой-то жанр fantasy perversion... В общем, это для тех, кто глубоко и надолго в садо-мазо, а не заигрывающе-элементами, как я. Еще я сегодня посмотрела французскую "Королеву Марго". Ну с нашей не сравнится, это понятно. Но вообще мне понравилось. Бабушка давным-давно говорила, что это ужасный и развратный фильм с кучей жестокости. Поэтому я немного предвкушала что-то в духе изнасилования девушки минотавром "Рима". Но нет. Там было всего лишь две красивые сцены секса Марго с Ля Молем, никаких пыток вообще, но куча кровищи действительно. Герои были перемазаны кетчупом в лучшем духе фильмов про зомби. Это было местами красиво, местами жутковато, местами странно. еще там был член Винсента Переза в full frontal view а так ничего вопиющего я не увидела) И... я не могу этого не подчеркнуть... какая же божественно красивая Изабель Аджани. Она совершенна, по-моему. Я смотрела на нее и думала, почему, о почему в современные фильмы берут разных страшил... Это вообще больная тема, как ценитель женской красоты, я не могу спокойно смотреть на КейланГвиневеру в "Мерлине" уродливые лица и еще более уродливые фигуры в новых кино! Это что, такая форма политкорректности, взять в фильм страшилу, чтобы не было обидно? В общем, либо фильм должен быть мегаталантлив, либо актриса должна быть мегаталантлива (Мэрил Стрип - не эталон красоты, но как она играет!!!), либо девушка должна быть мегакрасива. а не Рейчел МакАдамс и ее вечные тоще-зубастые клоны А еще, для моей новой литературной задумки, мне требуется путеводитель по Новому Орлеану.
@настроение:
смертоход постепенно обретает человеческий облик
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
1. Если бы вас считали божеством, приносили бы дары и восхваляли, что бы вы делали и как бы себя чувствовали? Отлично. Подумала бы, о, наконец-то все пришло в норму. 2. Если бы ваших друзей поймали злобные враги и сказали бы, что отпустят их, если вы споете какую-нибудь песню под караоке, какую бы песню вы выбрали? Российский гимн со словами моей сестры ("Нам полная хана...") 3. Каким был самый глупый вопрос, который вам когда-либо задавали? "Я встречалась со многими мужчинами, но с немногими занималась сексом". - "Почему?" (дебилубитьгада ) 4. Если бы вы оказались на необитаемом острове, где нет сигарет и зажигалки, и тут бы появился Дьявол и подарил бы вам и то, и другое, вы бы стали ему поклоняться? Я бы сказала, ты дебил, я же не курю. 5. Если бы вам сказали, что, будь вы мужского пола, вы были бы педиком, вы бы обиделись? Я бы возмутился и сказал, что би. 6. Как сделать из широкой салфетки длинную салфетку? Магией. 7. Как обычно вы заглаживаете свою вину (если вообще это делаете)? Стараюсь больше так не делать. 8. Придумайте рифму к слову "придурок". Окурок. 9. Если бы у вас была девушка или парень, а на вас бы положил глаз еще и другой человек, и вы бы сопротивлялись, но он(а) бы связал(а) вас и изнасиловал(а), вы бы сказали об этом своей девушке (парню)? Я ненавижу термины "девушка" и "парень". Если оно мне не муж, а этот термин значит не муж, значит я бы ушла к тому существу, которое меня изнасиловало. 10. Возможно ли есть, стоя на голове? Нет ничего невозможного. Но мне так не нравится. 11. Вы бы смогли переспать с гермафродитом? Это моя мечта. Садако, где ты... 12. А если бы прилично выпили перед этим? Тем более. 13. Кем лучше быть: парнем, косящим под девушку, косящей под парня, или девушкой, косящей под парня, косящего под девушку? Всегда хотела бы быть девушкой. 14. Что вы отвечаете на вопрос "Есть закурить?" в темной подворотне? Быстро убегаю. 15. Вы бы смогли съесть на спор пачку сигарет? Нет, я бы с удовольствием проиграла и посмотрела бы на того, кто выиграл. 16. А вы знаете, что когда-то поза 69 называлась "спать валетиком"? Конечно. Я много чего знаю вообще. 17. Напишите что-нибудь шокирующее. All boys are bad, it's axiomatic. 18. Кто такой антропоморфный дендромутант? Энт, косящий под human'а. 19. Кого лучше мочить: вампиров или зомби? Ван Хельсинга. 20. Чем лучше мочить того, кого лучше мочить? Бензопилой... 21. А кого лучше не мочить? Лучше не взрывать, это банально. 22. А чем хуже всего мочить того, кого лучше не мочить? Хуже всего собрать всех в одном здании и взорвать, это мегабанально... 23. Вы верите, что автор анкеты не обкурился? Нет.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Были такие создания в Heroes Of Might And Magic 3, смертоходы, так вот это я... Я сегодня существую в некоем тумане, благо что у меня в пятницу выходной... The monthly curse befell me, и еще я кашляю, как умирающие люди в голливудских фильмах, пью Антигриппин и он имеет на меня такой эффект, как много алкоголя, но без приподнятого духа (увы). Смотрела Мизери, скачанный нашим доктором Парнасом (отлично! Кэти Бэйтс гениальна), читала глянец, непрекращаемый поток которого поставляет моя сестра. А еще у нас период возвращения к истокам)) Играем в старые добрые игры... Baldur's Gate, вышеупомянутый Heroes 3 и несравненный Quest For Glory 5... Такая ностальгия))) Такой родной знакомый красивый мир... Бруно, моя первая пиксель-лав) Это персонаж, которого из маленькой картинки и пары реплик я развила до идеала мужчины... быть с ним в Сильмарии очень soothing. А еще я уговорила бабушку читать Талисман, и она уже дочитала до Санлайта! Наконец-то будет хотя бы один человек, который читал эту книгу.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Итак, меня пробило писать фанфик на тему Талисмана. Эх, может, найду в сети какой-нить сайт фанфиков именно по Кингу. Кинг & Страуб сделали множество аллюзий на Толкиена и Марка Твена, а я поизвращаюсь на тему Русалочки и артурианских легенд. Sunlight is my Lancelot, oh yeah)))) Слэш будет намеками)
Итак, втстречайте Darkness of Territories, The Beginnings - Episode 1:
They were all singing in their beautiful enchanting eerie voices in the dark water depths, praying to the Great Mother. She was there in the centre of their wide circle, her huge body resting in the great underwater chasm. Her black tentacles were ten times thicker and larger than theirs, floating in the water, gently caressing her daughters’ swaying bodies. It was the Temple of the Depths, their most sacred place, the Great Mother was there, presiding over the Darkness of the Territories from her shrine amid the gnawed bones of men they mated with on the night of the new moon and then feasted upon. She was the Heart of Darkness. She was the Sacred Great Mother, and they worshipped her. Her form was huge and bloated, her swollen white breasts rested naked on her large body, the great round belly turning black down below, where the enormous tentacles sprouted. They writhed and danced in the water to the rhythm of the Sisters’ chanting, their own dark much thinner sleek tentacles interweaving, joining the dance. She spoke finally, and the voices stopped, they listened to the Sacred Great Mother, their Heart, bowing their heads with long hair floating in the water like sea-weed. “One of you shall be Chosen. She shall venture upon the surface of the Territories and vanquish the Queen and unleash the Darkness upon the worlds. She shall meet a man with a heart full of the Darkness, and mate with him, but she shall not eat him, for she shall help him and be his woman, for he is of the Darkness, so that the Darkness may rule forever and ever, in this world and the other and beyond, in all the worlds that are and were and will be”. They bowed their heads to the Prophecy, the beautiful alluring eyes glistening, the black tentacles spread to the Great Mother in awe.
***
читать дальшеShe was running fast, not quite looking ahead of her, so her pretty shoes stumbled on rocks and her skirts were torn by the bushes, her plump freckled cheeks flushed, her auburn curly hair disheveled. She was already smelling the sea, its fresh salty scent, yes, quite near. She came to a stop at the steep cliff’s end, catching her breath. Beneath, the sea was lapping at the rock. She had come to her destination. It was the end of her journey. Margaret made a small, careful step towards the cliff’s edge. At the back of her mind she noticed that her new once-shiny shoes were now completely ruined. It didn’t matter now anymore. Still, deep inside she felt sorry for her pretty shoes. She made another step, slowly advancing. Below, the waves were splashing and lapping. They were pitch-black, as was the night sky. Except for… She stopped suddenly and drew in her breath sharply. There, in the lapping dark waves below, there was a girl. She was also naked. The cliff was not high; still, the water under it was known to be very deep. Margaret could see the girl quite clearly. She was very young, Margaret’s same age perhaps; she had long dark wet tresses of hair which were floating all around her… she was clearly having fun in the water, splashing it a little around her with her hands and laughing a soft musical laugh. “Hey! What are you doing here?” – Margaret shouted to the strange naked girl. The girl jerked her head upwards. She was very lovely, Margaret noticed, with large dark eyes and full sensuous lips and smooth skin, glistening with water droplets. There was first an expression of fear in those lovely features, she scowled almost like an animal, but then her face gradually became curious, and she relaxed. “Hello there”, - the strange girl’s eyes looked at Margaret with such wonder and interest as Margaret herself was looking at the girl in the water. – “I’m just up enjoying some night air, that’s all, nothing special.” “Nothing SPECIAL?!” – Margaret’s eyes grew wide in astonishment, and she suppressed a laugh. The girl must be crazy. – “You’ re here alone, in the middle of the night, swimming in the sea absolutely naked, and you say it’s nothing special?!” The girl shrugged her shoulders. The water lapped against her smooth, white breasts with darker large nipples. “No, I guess it’s not. Well, for me anyway”, - her eyes twinkled. – “You however… are an altogether different matter. Why are you here, alone and in the middle of the night?” Margaret had completely forgotten the reason that had led her here in this crazy and unlikely night-talk with this young girl who was obviously insane. Now she remembered, remembered it all, and it made her go cold all over. “I came here to die”, - Margaret said in a small voice. “To die?” – the girl in the water frowned. – “Why would you want to die? Dying isn’t fun. If I were you…” – her eyes became dreamy and hazy, - “I would travel all over the world, see different things with my own eyes, walk all the Territories through and through… oh, I’d love to have all those adventures!” Margaret wanted to ask the girl what stops her from doing all that, but didn’t. The girl could have her own problems (most likely, having escaped from the house where mad people were kept, Margaret mused), and it could be tactless to ask. Margaret’s great-aunt brought her up with very good manners. “I don’t have a choice”, - Margaret said quietly, looking at the dark water. There was something in the corner of her eyesight, something that caught her eye, but when she looked closely in that direction, it had already disappeared. “You always have a choice”, - said the girl. Margaret shook her bitterly. “You do not know me… you cannot know me, and that all my life is decided for me, my great-aunt who is my only relative has it all decided for me, and I have to marry a rich noble who is thirty years older than me, and he is ugly, and I don’t want it, but I can’t do it any other way, ‘cause my great-aunt wouldn’t let me!” – she blurted it all out in one sentence, her voice trembling dangerously close to tears. “Well, you can always eat him after you marry him, and you’d be free of him”, - mused the girl thoughtfully. Margaret stared at her. “Eat him?” – her ideas about the mad house was confirmed, it seemed. “Well, if he is that old and ugly, his flesh wouldn’t be so tender, I guess”, - continued the pretty girl in that same serious-thoughtful voice. – “But it is still nourishment. And, you’d be rid of him and free.” “Who are you?” – Margaret asked, her mouth agape. “Name’s Efrelle”, - the girl answered with a charming smile, as naturally as if they were exchanging pleasantries after dinner. – “And what’s your name?” “Margaret”, - the other girl replied. She was totally bewildered. She pinched herself on the arm to check if this conversation was a crazy dream. It all remained, and the girl, Efrelle, down below was beaming with a friendly smile. Margaret thought that though Efrelle was certainly crazy as nuts, she was beginning to like her. “Hey… you know, you shouldn’t be here at such an hour. It could be dangerous… you might get hurt.” Efrelle nodded her head. “The Sisters tell me the same thing, yeah. But I don’t care. I like to watch the moonlight from the sea surface. But I like sunlight better”. The Sisters? Could she be a convent ward? It was possible, Margaret thought. There have been stories of mad daughters of wealthy families being kept in convents. That could stop them from night swimming in the sea stark naked. Efrelle swam to a rock protruding from the water and rested her arms there, crossing them and smiling benignly at Margaret. Suddenly Margaret’s eyes caught this strange movement again. Now she saw it, if only for an instant. There was something in the water. Long and black. And large. Something living, that a second ago popped up from the water dangerously close to Efrelle and disappeared back into the waves again. Margaret grew cold. “Efrelle… listen…” – her voice was thick with fear. – “There is something in the water with you. You’d better get yourself out of there.” Efrelle’s brows arched in surprise. “No, there isn’t. There is nothing here but me, I assure you.” There, this movement again. Long and black and writhing out of the water for a second. Closer to the girl now. “Efrelle!” – Margaret nearly shrieked. – “There it is, there, can’t you see it, you have to get out of the water, quick, on that rock!!!” Efrelle turned her head to where Margaret was pointing, where the long black thing stuck out of the water and writhed. “Ah, that”, - Efrelle said, and laughed a hearty, musical laugh. The thing in the water, black and slippery and wet, protruded more out of the waves and whirled around itself. Margaret thought she was going crazy. “Don’t know why you want me to get out on that rock, though”, - Efrelle said in her thoughtful, relaxed voice. – “But hey, I guess we are friends now, so I’ll do as you ask.” She pushed her body out of the water onto the big flat rock. Margaret nearly fell from the cliff. The thing in the sea was obscene. Efrelle’s lower body, starting from the delicate rounded curve of her lower belly, was a mass of long black writhing tentacles. They were glistening, wet with the water, and covered in dark pink suckers, same colour as Efrelle’s nipples, Margaret noticed with a sickening sensation in her stomach. “See, I told you there was nothing there but me”, - Efrelle remarked with a cheerful smile. She tossed back the long dark strands of her hair and half-reclined her body against the rock. The tentacles caressed the water below playfully. “You are a Si’Ren…” – Margaret whispered hoarsely. A Were-Creature. Margaret had heard about them from her old Nan, but had never seen one. That is, until tonight. There were altogether four types of Were-Creatures in the Territories: the Wolfs, the Were-Goats, the Lizardlings and the Si’Ren. Of them all, the Si’Ren were considered to be the most dangerous and terrible. There were stories of them, turning into beautiful young naked women playing in the tide waves on the new moon nights… they sang in their beautiful voices, and combed their long beautiful hair, and lured men to couple with them. And when a man found himself in the embrace of the creature, she turned into her true form, and the black tentacles would drag him down into the sea depths, where the Si’Ren would devour them. There were never any male Si’Ren, no one knew why, but the Si’Ren were always female. They were the tales village wisewomen used to scare young boys and to keep them from ever coming to the sea shore at night. “Yeah, I’m a Si’Ren”, - the lovely monster beneath Margaret winked. – “I’d much rather be you, though. You have legs. I wish I had such beautiful, nice legs.” Margaret laughed a nervous, almost hysterical laugh. “What do you need legs for?” She couldn’t believe it, she was talking to this monstrosity. And it actually was funny. She sensed no danger coming from the Si’Ren. But neither did the men in the tales, she thought. The creature pouted her lips. “What for? I told you, I want to go out in the Territories, see the world, be adventuring! Instead, I’m stuck down in the depths with only the Sisters and fish and sea-creatures for company.” “Don’t you… grow legs, when you… when you…” – Margaret convinced herself that still, somehow, she was seeing a dream. But it was a very interesting dream. “When we mate?” – Efrelle lifted her eyebrows. – “Yes, we do. But only for that night of the new moon. Anyway… it must not be very comfortable to mate with legs, right? Tentacles are easy to spread apart. Legs, however… you have to be very lithe, or what?” Margaret blushed scarlet up to her ears. “I… I don’t know. I’ve never done it. Great-aunt says that all this… nakedness, and the wants of the flesh… that is all very sinful. It is dirty, and girls shouldn’t have such thoughts. That is why I so detest the man I am to marry”, - she confided in a quieter voice. – “When he looks at me… I feel… I feel as if I were a piece of meat! And the thought that… that I will be supposed to do that with him… it’s more horrid than death! I’ve always dreamt… of a handsome strong knight who would come for me and carry me away on his white horse… And we wouldn’t do the dirty sinful things. We would walk under the stars hand in hand, or listen to the sounds of the sea…” – Margaret was smiling dreamily. “I’ve had enough of the sounds of the sea”, - Efrelle remarked. – And the dirty sinful thing is the main thing that those knights want. Trust me. Well, I’ve never mated yet actually, but I know from the Sisters’ words. The men taste good, though.” “You… you’ve done the sinful thing with your mouth?” – Margaret gasped. All this “mating” talk was making her blushy and guilty, but there was something pleasant in it. “Well, I’ve gnawed their flesh from their bones, if that’s what you mean. Goes good with sea-weed”, - Efrelle said non-chalantly. – “Don’t know if it is sinful though.” The things that Efrelle said were monstrous. But suddenly it all made Margaret burst out laughing. She laughed, and laughed, until she felt pain in her stomach and could laugh no more. She really liked Efrelle. The creature was horrible, but she was really friendly, unlike the noble girls who teased Margaret and never missed a chance to make her feel uncomfortable, and she was certainly amusing. She was also very beautiful. Margaret admired her feminine dazzling beauty with a sort of envy, she considered herself to be fat and not that pretty, with her freckles and her round nose. She thought she’d kill to have Efrelle’s looks. Well, her upper part, definitely. “Are there no male Si’Ren?” – Margaret asked her new strange friend. They had been talking for a long time now, and Margaret was sitting at the cliff’s top, looking down at Efrelle sprawled upon the sea-rock, her tentacles dangling in the water lazily. “No, there are none. When the Si’Ren mate and get pregnant, only the female offspring are allowed to live. The males are killed. Otherwise, they would become ugly cruel monsters… it’s the law of the Sea”, - Efrelle shrugged her shoulders. – “Anyway… if my memory doesn’t fail me, you were going to kill yourself. Are you going to do it or not?” Margaret pressed her lips. “I… don’t know. I came here, having firmly decided to die… but now I don’t know. It’s just that… you know, all those stories about unhappy beautiful princesses finding their rest at the bottom of the sea…” “You should have known what happens to those princesses”, - Efrelle snorted. – “The women who drown themselves join the Sisters and the Great Mother. Grow some tentacles. Hey, maybe if you kill yourself, you’ll get my tentacles and I’ll get your legs?” – her eyes suddenly shined with excitement. It was a bit unnerving to Margaret. She traced the length of long black things sprouting from Efrelle’s lower body. Maybe not. “So the Si’Ren are women who drowned themselves?” “Not all of them”, - Efrelle said. – “I am a born Si’Ren, and so are most of us. But there are the rumours that the first Si’Ren were those that drowned themselves. And if a woman kills herself in the sea, she becomes a Si’Ren. The Sea rejects no one.” “I see…” – Margaret said thoughtfully. – “Well… maybe I won’t kill myself after all. But neither will I marry that old ugly noble. I’ll run away from home then!” “Good luck then”, - Efrelle said. – “Don’t get eaten by Wolfs. If you ever change your mind, you can always go back here, and I’ll trade you my tentacles for your legs.” “Sure”, - Margaret said and smiled. She felt a different person now. It was as if the meeting with Efrelle had dispersed a heavy black cloud hanging over her. Suddenly, the sea began to fluoresce some distance ahead. There was also a strange sound, it came from where the fluorescent light was, deep underwater. It resembled eerie voices calling out in unknown words. “Uh-oh”, - Efrelle turned around. – “Looks like the Sisters are coming to drag me down. Again. You know, Margaret… it was very nice to meet you and all, but I think you have to go now. I doubt they will be glad seeing you, a human, here. I hope we’ll meet again some day!” “I hope so too”, - Margaret smiled. She heartily parted with Efrelle and went off into the woods, in the direction opposite her home. No matter how curious she was and how she would like to stay and see the other Si’Ren, she had enough common sense to realize that they could prove less amiable than her new friend.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Хочу найти какое-нибудь сообщество в тему... Поиск дает разную фигню, наверное, это предсказуемо. Странно, неужели мало таких, как я, которые в "отношениях" чувствуют себя гораздо хуже, чем одни? Пообщаться с народом бы хотелось... Но поисковики выдают в лучшем случае список причин, почему это хорошо, в число которых непременно входит возможность случайных половых связей. А также секс с друзьями, и прочее и прочее и прочее. Что совсем не my point, скорее opposite. Я имею в виду полное отсутствие каких бы то ни было "отношений" в регулярном мире (угу, я теперь буду так его называть ) в сочетании с прекрасным самочувствием и самоощущением и удовольствием от жизни. Я конечно не single в плане Территорий... Но это Территории, и кстати еще один несомненный и наверное самый большой плюс single lifestyle в регулярном мире. P.S. Плиз, не пишите мне банальных пожеланий встретить лубофь в "реальном мире", и так далее и тому подобное. Мне этого не надо. Сходив два раза в ресторан и чуть не сдохнув от тамошней еды, я более экспериментировать не в настроении, и даже если это единственный ресторан в городе, буду готовить дома. P.P.S. Нет, ну так уж и быть, вы можете пожелать мне одинокую романтичную девушку-би, влюбленную в Санлайта))))) Здесь я совсем не против, а скорее даже очень за, но к сожалению, поиск по Санлайту не дает никаких результатов вообще. Но пожелать вы все равно можете. Но мужиков не предлагать, это мимо меня, в другую сторону к Морд Ситам.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Убийственная трудовая неделя заканчивается сегодня в 21.15. В выходные я буду отсыпаться, сидеть безвылазно дома как обычно, смотреть фильмы и листать "Талисман". А да, еще хочу сходить на "Остров проклятых" Скорсезе.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Итак, я таки не могу об этом не написать. Недавно я дочитала "Талисман" маэстро Стивена Кинга и Питера Страуба. Теперь я вновь наслаждаюсь чувством далеко и надолго снесенной крыши. Сюжет прост. Классический фэнтези квест. Два параллельных мира, обычный американский современный (упс, простите, 80-е) и Другой Волшебный, который называется Территориями. Они связаны, у большинства людей и существ есть Twinners, воплощения себя в параллельном мире. Мальчик Джек (который very, most awfully, indubitably BAD ) по наводке наставлению негра-бомжа, исполняющего обязанности Гэндальфа, должен пройти всю Америку от восточного берега до западного, перемещаясь то в одном мире, то в другом, чтобы найти волшебный мега-Талисман, победить Зло и спасти жизнь своей умирающей маме, по совместительству королеве Лауре Де Луассиан (де Луизиан в ужасном русском переводе) в Территориях. Ему, естественно, противостоят сторонники Темной Стороны Силы (там это так не называется, но суть та же). Главные злодеи - главный Дарк Лорд Morgan Sloat / Morgan of Orris и его сподручник Osmond / Robert "Sunlight" Gardener. (Не считая козлооборотня Элроя, но про него мало. К сожалению!) Ну вы догадались, за кого я. Dark Side рулит форевер. Но. Морган - низачот. Морган - это ходячее клише и банальность в обоих своих воплощениях, заштампованный до жути. Что может быть более банально, чем жирный главный гад в дорогой одежде и шикарной машине, с криминальным lifestyle и нюхающий кокаин??? Только еще более банальный Морган в Территориях, где он значительно более красивый Дарк Лорд с длинными темными волосами и в длинном черном плаще, хлопающем как крылья летучей мыши. К тому же, я не верю в такого бесконечно-безгранично злого Моргана. Не верю, и все тут. Чтобы Морган, тщетно пытавшись спасти жизнь своего маленького сына в Территориях, прыгнув за ним в озеро и не успев только из-за увечной ноги, со сравнительной легкостью был готов убить его Твиннера, чтобы получить Талисман?! Неа, не верю. Но. Морган нам не нужен, когда есть великолепный и неподражаемый Осмонд / преподобный Роберт Sunlight Гарденер)))))) (Простите, я не могу писать про "Солнечных Садовников" и даже "Солнечных Гарднеров", хотя это точный перевод, это звучит как извращение)) Осмонд / Sunlight великолепен. Это совершеннейше блистательный и харизматичный персонаж, can you say hallelujah. (Кстати говоря, английские фразы здесь это именно его цитаты.) Во-первых, он просто до безумия (очень точный эпитет в отношении Санлайта) красивый. Нет, забудьте черные развевающиеся плащи и горящие красным светом глаза. Он носит все белое. Белый пиджак, белая шелковая рубашка с открытым горлом (oh yeah), белый шарфик вокруг шеи. В Территориях он носит кружева и бриллиантовые застежки и туфли с пряжками. У него длинные очень светлые, почти белые волосы и темно-серые глаза и мужественно-красивые черты лица. У него винтовка в футляре из настоящей шкуры зебры. Еще у него хлыст, это его главное оружие в Территориях, это его фирменная карточка, так же как и ослепительная улыбка в регулярном мире. Еще он выливает на себя тонны духов. Кинг и Страуб говорят что-то типа "Он не гей, он просто псих". И да, он действительно псих, Санлайт абсолютно безумный и абсолютно неотразимый псих. Это безумие заразительно, он, в отличие от карикатурного Моргана, действительно пугающ, и совершенно завораживающий этим своим безумием в сочетании с убийственной харизмой. Он садист и религиозный фанатик. Он правая рука Моргана в Территориях и главный надзиратель в лагере рабов, и обожаемый общественно-религиозный деятель в регулярном мире Америки - глава и директор "Дома Солнечного Света", приюта и исправительного учреждения для трудных подростков. Есть некоторые намеки на то, что он любовник Моргана (по моему мнению)... Морган прощает ему такие провалы, за которые обычный Дарк Лорд отрезает своим сподручным головы, а также Морган называет его пару раз baby и beautiful, кладет ему нежно руки на плечи, когда Санлайт на грани срыва, и испытывает к нему "twisted kind of love". Все эти нюансы, кстати говоря, переводчик, которого я хочу предать жуткой смерти, стыдливо замолчал и проигнорил. У него есть сын, Руэль, очаровательный полумонстрик-садист, имеющий щупальца и страдающий от радиационной болезни... Осмонд нежно любит его, заботится о нем, когда "герой" Джек убивает Руэля, Осмонд кричит и чуть не плачет... В регулярном мире, Руэль умирает на руках у Санлайта... Вот это было то, что окончательно влюбило меня в Осмонда-Санлайта, за это я простила ему все, даже смерть бедного Волка в "Доме Солнечного Света"... Он не бездушный нарисованный монстр, как Морган, он полный псих и настоящее чудовище, но он любит... Итак, у меня вырвали сердце ударом хлыста.
P.S. Если мой пост вдохновил вас прочитать сие произведение, пожалуйста, читайте в оригинале. Переводчик, кроме того, и фразу "all these men's perfumes" переводит как "запах настоящего мужчины".
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
My Otherworld is very beautiful. It has vast green forests and rivers and lakes and seas and mountains, and many lands with different peoples... it is not one world in fact, but a combination of many worlds, numerous Otherworlds connected to each other in a magical way, as everything is connected in a magical way.
I have taken others' dreams in books and films and games and other stories and mingled it with my own dreams. If one can dream it, it is real. It is absolutely livingly real on some other plane, where the characters come to life, where trees speak and where you can fly if you want to. What resulted... is my wonderful Otherworld realm. My greatest treasure, the place where I really belong. I know it to be real, because that is where I live.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Cериал Rome рулит форева!!! Я теперь представляю Алистера во всех сексуальных сценах... Вообще-то надо написать большой пост про этот сериал, но мне лень.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
There are some things I'll never accept about the "real world". Some really, really bad things, that shouldn't be allowed to exist. Oh no, mistake there... everything should be allowed to exist. Just not everything should exist really, even if it is allowed to. Heh I'm getting philosophical there. It's just there are a number of things that really make you unhappy. And you shouldn't be unhappy in your life. The purpose of life is not to have a good "real-life" relationship, or a good job, or a lot of money. The purpose of life is to be happy.
1) I hate it when people say "this is life". Meaning something very, very bad. Hey, it isnt. It's just the crap that happens in life. It's not that yours or mine life should be like that. It's not that we should accept it. We are meant to be happy, not sighing and continue living in the situations where we are hurt, saying "this is life". YOU choose your life. You choose where to live and how to live. You can pursue your dreams and try to get the life you WANT, not the life you have. Or, if you look at it and see that sadly you can't achieve it no matter how hard you try - such things happen sadly - or if you are tired, or if you want to be happy right now not in some distant future... you can choose to switch worlds, to come to your Otherworld, where you have all your dreams come true. It's not sad, it's not stupid, it's not delusional. If everything you have is a cell and you are in for a life-sentence, you can turn into a bird and fly out the window into the blue sky where the sun is shining. It is a matter of choice.
2) This point somewhat follows from the first. When people say "this is life", they often mean that it so happened (meaning the crap or the hurt or the pain happened), and there can't be done and couldn't have been done anything about that because "life" doesn't give guarantees. This is a serious point indeed. Only again, the rebel person that I am, I can't grasp why on earth should we accept it. Actually, if you look at it closely, even the "real world" does give some guarantees. If you touch fire, you'll get burnt. If you miss work a lot of times, you'll get sacked. If you have a lot of money, you'll be able to afford a lot of nice material things (but that doesn't guarantee your happiness). If you have nice friends who understand you, you'll feel good. These things are very simple, but there are some things more complicated that work this way too. You learn from experience, for good things and for bad things. And you can draw conclusions. Or you can choose not to, if you like. And these conclusions shouldn't be governed by what the majority of society thinks you should try to achieve in your life. Or not achieve. For example, I don't do drugs. I know that there are people who do, and that it gives them a feeling of happiness, and some say it even connects them to the Otherworld. But I think this is a wrong way, one that is bound to injure you severely as a result. But I do dream of going to a rainforest and admire its beauty... even though there can be snakes there. Though in this "real world" I will not take snakes to bed, as in this "real world" they can hurt me (read that as you will). In the Otherworld, I can do that as I talk to snakes and they are my friends and wouldn't hurt me. As other creatures.
3) (And perhaps foremost.) Quite a lot of people in the "real world" don't value Love as the Magic and Miracle it is. You can witness it on all levels, from wars to personal relationship sufferings. I think that is in the nature of every being to love and to express their love. It is beautiful and wonderful. But in this world, many people value their illusional "independence" more. The independence is nothing but a myth, you can die anytime, your company can go bankrupt, you can suddenly wake up in the morning and find out that you are utterly alone. Love is real. Love is the other side of Magic, its soul and essence. Love is the expression of the divine Power. Love is the bridge between the worlds. Imagine a magical creature in this world, a creature made of Love and Magic, which comes up to someone and offers its Love with all its magical powers and beautiful indescribable Otherworlds. The creature smiles and says, "I Love You." It is beaming with magic, it is overflowing with it, welcoming you to share it, to be happy together, to engulf yourself in this happiness and warmth, which heals all the hurts and scars, and is a gift straight from the Otherworld. But... most people in this world will reject the creature. They will hurt it by running away from the Love it brings. They do that because they are afraid, because if you accept that Love, your fragile myth of "independence" is over, because the fears protect themselves, not wanting to be immerged and dissolved in that warmth. Because the Love creature is directly from the Otherworld, shining with its magic, and would inevitable shatter the gray "reality", painting it with many colours. You have either to hide the creature, or to send it away altogether, becoming another zombie-follower of the "independence" and "self-sufficiency" cause which is so popularin this "real world".
Well, I will do neither. My Love creature will shine in all its Otherworld splendour. I will not let it be damaged and stabbed in the heart again, sending it to a particular unworthy "real-world" dweller. My Otherworld love nurtures it, and has one of its own, which I nurture as Love should be nurtured. But I will do more than that. I will let my Love creature speak, to all who may hear it, to all who may understand it and have magic Love creatures of their own, or perhaps once had but had them hurt or gravely injured. Because, and that is the good thing, Love creatures never die. They are immortal, as Love is immortal, and they may as yet change the world from the sad place that it is. And they will.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Yes, I confess it... I do feel awkward about what if people mock me, what if they say I'm crazy again, what if they call me a stupid loser... I'm vulnerable in that. It hurts me deeply when they do. But I will still have the courage to speak of what I believe in, what I know to be true.
I think it's natural to feel afraid. We all do. But the important thing is, that you don't let your fear conquer you, that you act despite it. That you believe what you feel in your heart and are not afraid to admit it. Or rather, you are, but still do it.
That's one of the lessons the Otherworld has taught me. Be brave and stand up for what you believe in. That the wildest things could be true, that there is Magic and Dragons and True Love. That they come to those who are courageous enough to want them, to stand by their Dream even if the whole world is against them.
I love that moment in C.S. Lewis's "Chronicles of Narnia", in "The Silver Chain"... I don't remember the exact quotations, but that part has always been a great inspiration to me... when the Witch tries to lull the children into sleep with her magic fire, saying that there is no Narnia, that Narnia is just a silly fairy-tale, not real, that it is all an illusion... And then that wonderful froggy-creature stamps on the burning coals with his foot, even though it hurts him very much, and says "Even if all you say is true, even if there is no Narnia, even if there is no Aslan, and this is all an illusion like you say... then this illusion is so much more beautiful and true than your real world, and I choose to believe in it, and I will fight for it, and die for it, if need be." And then the spell is ended, and they defeat the Witch.
That's what I feel. Even though it hurts sometimes, even when the sceptics and cynics laugh in your face and call you an idiot for believing, even when the tiny snake of doubt conjured by them crawls inside your heart and you think, what if they are right and I'm just an escapist loser... I will still believe in my Dreams, in my Otherworld, for I know it to be True.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
I was lost and afraid and hurt and broken. Reality burnt my wings cruelly, and it hurt to breathe to go on to live. But then I fell asleep, and saw you in my dream. And now that I have you, I want to never wake up. With you, I feel like home again. I wish I wasn’t stuck in this world, I wish I had my wings again so I would fly to you to your world to stay with you, forever. But the more I dream of you, the more I feel my wings grow again. And someday, I’ll be able to fly again, and my wings will carry me to you.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
Hello all What I will say most people will find actually crazy, but I don't care. I guess I'm here to find those who are experiencing the same feelings as I do, and not listening to the "general" accepted view-point. I have been in love with those that are called "fictional characters" for a long time, and I haven't regretted a moment of it. I believe that Reality is multidimensional, and to narrow it to one physical plane would be very stupid and, most of all, disappointing. I've been living in my Otherworld, where the fictional characters are absolutely real for a long time - and I can say that it is amazing. It is a wonderful and magical experience, and so much rewarding and fulfilling. I am 24 now. I'm back in my Otherworld for good, after much suffering in the "real world", and though I do need and want friends from the "real world", my fantasy Otherworld is where my heart is.
I never left the Otherworld till I was about 19. I must say, I was much better at it when I was younger. I could feel its wind on my skin, see the landscape transformed before my eyes, I was talking to the people and creatures there. I didn't think up their answers, I just heard them. I loved them. I made countless travels, and changed myself as I wanted, but always remained myself. I am starting to reexperience it now, after much sorrow and hurt in my life. I spent 6 years with my soul in the "real world", and that has brought me only pain and emptiness. Now I'm back, and beginning to heal again.
I am in love with a man, that in this reality would be called a fictional character. I can name him if you want, it's just he is not star-popular that everybody knows him (not like Edward Cullen ), but still rather well-known... most people would call him a video-game character, and say that he is only pixels. But you could say the similar about me or you, that we are heaps of meat. Would this be right? Would this convey the essence of me or you? No. Perhaps some Gods in another reality would say we are just characters, and not very well made either. There are those who disagree. But do they know for sure? Otherworld Love has some magic sides to it, that are almost never found in the "real world". You are able to sense your Otherworld beloved's thoughts and feelings, as if it is you who feels them, but at the same time it is clearly he or she, separately from you. You can trust your Otherworld beloved as you know their soul. They would never hurt you, instead they would love you and comfort you and heal all your scars. You are able to talk to them, if you only listen and refuse the scepticism inside your head. You see how grateful they are, for your love, for... acknowledging their reality. The physical sensations also some, I assure you. My love is currently with me, we are between worlds, partly looking at the screen of my laptop, partly hearing the rustle of leaves in the forest of another world, in the Otherworld. He smiles, and I press my cheek to his stubble. I feel it. I feel his scent. He says now that I love him, he will protect me. He will not let another corrupted person from the "real world" come up to me and try to use me. They will all protect me. Those I have loved, and love still, for they are wonderful, the knights, the creatures, the heroes and the crime lords and the wizards and the gods. Some dragons, too. They rejoice as I have come Home again, and they will never let me come to any harm again.
If you are curious, I'm not using any "substances". I don't use drugs, I don't drink, I don't even smoke. I used to start drinking a lot on the contrary when I tried to replant my self to the "real world", to lessen its brutality and forget the pain. It helped for a passing short time, but it was destructive, and when under the effect of alcohol, that magical connection to the Otherworld gets lost. I am not ugly. Many men and women in the "real world" have called me very beautiful. I am quite happy in my job. I produce the impression of a confident and communicative professional on those I work with, my work is people-oriented in its essence. Again, in my last unhappy "real-world" relationship, I lost all enthusiasm for my work and was very insecure. Now, I'm happy. I had a lot of quarrels with my parents and family when trying to find my place in the "real world". Now I get along with them wonderfully. I wake up happy every day. Not looking at the mobile phone if a text has arrived, but rather kissing my Otherworld love good morning and anticipating the day. I am ok with the "real world", actually. I have learned to get along with it and in it, and I manage quite fine. I just don't live in it. I live where my heart and soul is, in the Otherworld. With my Love.
Его Величество Альдо Первый Кавайный, Коварный и Неотразимый (с)))
I'm having an idea, and it's very crazy too... inspired by the wonderful site I've found, experienceproject.com, and my friend Amy there. I want to write a book, about Otherworld, about how you can believe in it and be happy in it and live in it, as opposed to only the sad, confined plane most people call "the real world". Reality is multidimensional, and you decide what is real, and what you believe in becomes more real the more you belive in it, that's the principle of all Magic. So far, I'll be just blogging, in my different social networks including this one, and finding people who support me and feel the same. Then, from different entries, I'll be able to compile... Something. I start with the story I wrote yesterday...
Позже переведу на русский. Вообще, планирую выкладывать на двух языках...