Working Title

Anime Review: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler)

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 19:58:53 GMT

Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler)
Based on the manga by Yana Toboso
24 episodes
In Victorian-era London, Ciel Phantomhive is the 12-year-old head of the noble Phantomhive family. He runs a toy manufacturing company, investigates mysteries at the behest of the Queen, as is set to revenge his parents's murder—all with the aid of Sebastian Michaelis, a demon who is sworn to serve as Ciel's butler in exchange for Ceil's soul. Kuroshitsuji is a supernatural mystery, a dark comedy, and the perfect excuse to combine Victorian aesthetic, incompetent grim reapers, underage crossdressing, dinnerware used as projectile weaponry, plots inspired by Sherlock Holmes, and gratuitous bondage into a surprisingly enjoyable, intelligent series. It starts off a bit superficial and comedic for my tastes, but Kuroshitsuji matures into a beautiful, intriguing supernatural drama that never takes itself too seriously, and I recommend it.

The first half of the series tends to be episodic, or at least conscribed to short plot arcs. These do a decent job of introducing the wonderful cast, in particular the coldy intelligent yet vulnerably young Ceil, and Sebastian who hides dark humor and an intriguing demonic nature behind the veneer of the perfect butler. It also holds the viewer's attention in a series of kidnapping cases and murder mysteries, but these limit plot progression and are heavy on the humor. I have a narrow sense of humor, so take with a grain of salt that much of the comedy in Kuroshitsuji did nothing for me: I adored the dark humor, but the all-out farcical elements like reaction images and chronically incompetent servants left me cold and clashed with the darker and more serious aspects of the show.

But as Kuroshitsuji continues it builds an overarching plot around the mystery of Ceil's past and the demise of his parents. The plot grows stronger, the story more intriguing, and Ceil and Sebastian become ever more fascinating as the history and nature of their bargain comes to light. There's a certain subtly to the characterization that makes it delicate and believable despite the supernatural setting, with just left unsaid to capture the viewer's imagination. Meanwhile, farce is toned down as secondary characters gain depth. the humor that remains is enjoyable dark comedy mixed with exaggerated characters and just a touch of farce—it actually becomes quite charming and balances out the show's darker elements. I found the first half of Kuroshitsuji entertaining, but the second half was absolutely fascinating: it may not be top-tier entertainment, but the Victorian aesthetic, black comedy, and ambiguous, unusual characters all delighted me and I was sorry to see the show end.

Really, nothing sells Kuroshitsuji better than its concept: if a 12-year-old dandy in a Faustian contract with his battle-butler seems like your kind of show, give Kuroshitsuji a try. It's stylized, exaggerated, supernatural, but also has surprising smarts and subtlety in its characterization, a combination which keeps the reader engaged as well as intrigued. I've never watched anything quite like it, and enjoyed it immensely. (On a similar note, I wish I could find something similar—know of any other anime that might suit? Recommend me! Manga are also welcome for future reference, but for now I'm looking for something to watch.)

Final Fantasy XIII: Xbox 360 or PS3?

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 16:25:15 GMT

Will you be buying Final Fantasy XIII for the Playstaion 3 or the Xbox 360? (Or not at all, of course, but in which case I don't really care.)

Devon and I are waiting on the final word on Japanese audio to decide, but it looks like it may be omitted from both systems. In that case we're leaning towards the PS3—I prefer the UI, controller, and achievement system on the Xbox, but uncompressed audio/video on the PS3 wins out. I know we're massive geeks, but has anyone else been giving any thought to this quandary?

In other video game news, I beat Assassin's Creed II a while ago; I'm currently playing Kingdom Hearts: Re: Chain of Memories, the CoM PS2 port. I picked it up again after ignoring it for a long time and it's been a lot more fun to play this go around—I feel like I actually get and appreciate the card system this time, rather than seeing it as an impediment to my preferred KH hack-and-slash free-for-all Sadly, I'm currently stuck on a boss and procrastinating going back to it. After I beat this game, I'm on to Persona 3 and 4.

Devon and I are playing BlazBlue: Calamity Trigger more-or-less together. I bought it for his Christmas present but predictably have put a bit more time into it than he has. It's a brilliant fighter—the plot is surprisingly strong and characters are better defined than I've ever seen in fighter—as far as characterization, but also in terms of fighting style and abilities. I've gotten great with Jin, but because characters behave so differently it's hard to transfer brilliance with him into competence with anyone else. I'm loving the game so far.

Devon just beat Onimusha 3 and picked up Onimusha 1, but along with BlazBlue he also got Forza 3 for Christmas, and Bayonetta comes out next week. We'll see which one he sticks with, but I suspect Bayonetta (he's been craving a sharp fighter after replaying the entire DMC series and finding out that God of War was ... well, mostly just a pile of shit).

Television Review: Weeds seasons 1 & 2

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 15:02:31 GMT

This is just a quick review for Weeds, season 1 & 2 (Showtime).

Weeds opens with Nancy, a suburban housewife who has begin selling marijuana in order to support her sons and lifestyle after the sudden death of her husband. Weeds begins well with an unusual, intriguing premise, and (with the exception of the child actors) well-cast quirky characters. The writing is sharp, balancing the absurdity of the concept against a fair bit of emotional character development. Between the premise, characters, and too-slick writing, the show tends towards over-the-top, but those instances are played as humor and so the first season of Weeds is a smart, sharp comedy in compulsively watchable, bite-sized half-hour episodes. Mary-Louise Parker as Nancy simply shines—she's a great actor and takes to the show's style with aplomb and surprising depth. All in all the first season is enjoyable, and I recommend it.

The second season however is far less successful, and I'm not sad that I won't continue on to the third. As Nancy goes from a widowed suburban dime-bag dealer to a marijuana farmer dating a DEA agent, the plot simply outscales the show's capabilities: everything is larger, more unbelievable, more dramatic, but it's still conscribed to half-hour episodes. Secondary characters become cameos, character development is overshadowed by dramatic plot twists, and humor is no longer able to explain away the unbelievable plot. It's like watching a soap opera trying hard to be a primetime show. The second season is frantic, fragmented, and wholly unrealistic. There's still some clever writing and Parker is an unflappable lead, but the show starts a swift downward spiral and at the end of the season, doesn't show potential for improvement.

The first two seasons are the only ones currently available on Netflix's instant service, and I have no desire to expend the effort to borrow disks—so that's all I'll ever see of Weeds. I enjoyed it more than I expected, so for some snappy entertainment that still has depth, I moderately recommend the first season. But stop there—as it goes on the show crumples under its own weight, and the loss of the intriguing premise and strong characters is a real disappointment.

BPAL Reviews: Prague, Giant Vulva, Shadow Witch Orchid, Les Infortunes de la Vertu, Namaste

Thu, 17 Dec 2009 04:16:29 GMT

PRAGUE (GC, Wanderlust)
Crocus with snowdrop and three lilies.
A frimp from the Lab—I would never have ordered this myself.

In the vial: It's floral, but it has a fleshiness that almost makes it seem fruity, round and full. It's a sweet, frosted, pastel scent.

On me: Much as it is in the vial. Some of the fruitness disappates, leeching some color from the scent. I'm no good at discerning specific florals, so mostly what I get from Prague is the fleshy, white, opaque scent I associate with lilies. It's fairly tame, however, rounded out by a slight purple fruitiness, frosted with a pale powderiness that tones down the scent. It remains quite sweet, however, to the point of becoming cloying. This reminds me oddly of a tamer, gentler version of Regan, despite the dissimilarity in the notes. Scent-color is a frosted, opaque, purple-tinged cream; throw is moderate.

Verdict: I wasn't expecting these results from this blend—it's far fruitier and tamer than I anticipated. But even then, Prague just isn't my sort of scent. It's pleasant enough, but I'm no fan of floral/fruity perfumes. I'll pass along my imp.

GIANT VULVA (LE, Lupercalia: Novel Ideas for Secret Amusements II)
Skin musk, sugar cane, honey, beeswax, vanilla flower, and copal.

In the vial: A warm and heavy scent, thick with beeswax and resin, golden in color, with a waft of fleshy orchid perfume.

On me: Much the same as it is in the vial, but the notes mellow and meld. This is the scent of sex-hot skin: a gentle sensual musk, fleshy golden resins with the smoothness of beeswax, and still a waft of that thick, slightly tropical, vanilla orchid perfume. Despite the notes I don't get much sweetness from the scent; in fact it feels so fleshy, so similar to sex, that the scent's actually a bit salty and sweaty. Scent-color is pale gold, and scent-texture is very fleshy; throw is low, and wear length is short.

Verdict: This is such a unique scent that I'm glad I had the chance to test it. It's a brilliant match to the inspiration, even moreso than I expected from the notes: a thick, sexual, feminine scent, not quite vulgar but quite unabashed, obviously sexual. It's distinctive, beautiful, but not a scent that I would wear often—so I find myself in no need of a wearable amount. It's fascinating, but I'll pass.

SHADOW WITCH ORCHID (GC, Rappaccini's Garden)
This perfume is a dusky orchid, subdued and ethereal.

In the vial: Sweeter than I expected, and slightly powdery in its duskiness, but yes, a purple orchid floral.

On me: The same, but bolder, richer, more distinct—scents really do blossom on the skin, no pun intended. Thankfully some of the sweetness fades, but a little too much of it lingers, pushing the orchid towards heady and cloying. There's a bit of dusty duskiness in the scent's purple tone and in the throw, but for the most part this is a heady, fleshy floral, and quite potent too. Throw is moderate to high.

Verdict: With few exceptions, I tend not to like florals. Orchid is usually one of those exceptions, thus my interest in this blend—but it's just too strong for me, too heady, too floral. It's not unpleasant (although I'm not fond of the persistant sweetness), it's just not the scent for me. A drop of it may be decent for layering but in the end, I think I'll pass along my imp.

LES INFORTUNES DE LA VERTU (GC, Sin & Salvation)
A pain-tinged, pleasure-soaked blend of leather, oakmoss, orange blossom, amber, and rose with a breath of virginal French florals and a hint of austere monastic penitential incense.
A frimp from the Lab. This is not one I would have ordered on my own—I like some of the nose (orange blossom, amber, oakmoss, incense) but others (leather, rose, florals) I dislike or are deathnotes.

In the vial: I get exactly what I don't want out of the blend: a cologne-like scent, dry and vaguely floral but masculine.

On me: The dryness of the scent dies off during drydown, and the amber and incense amp up a bit in the first half hour—they provide a firmer grounding for the airness of the florals. But this scent's perfumey, cologne-like aspects never fade. It's a dry, slightly powdery, slightly soapy mixed floral, and while the rose never amps (as it is wont to do on my skin) there's still too much floral here for me to appreciate or accurately analyze the scent.

Verdict: As I feared, the florals and the leather/oakmoss blend make this too much like a drugstore cologne. To my nose it's simply unpleasant, so no, I won't be keeping my imp.

NAMASTE (GC, Bewitching Brews)
Sandalwood, jasmine, rose, patchouli, cedarwood and lemongrass.

In the vial: A yellow-green scent which I would guess to be lemongrass, but honestly I can't pin down notes. Regardless, I already think it's not my sort of scent.

On me: Immediately on the skin it's an Asian restaurant: lemongrass and blond woods. After about fifteen minutes the patchouli amps a bit, dimming and grounding the airy, fresh yellow-green of the lemongrass. But after a half hour the scent reaches its final stage—and it's full of florals. There's a fleshy, damp jasmine, but rose tends to amp on my skin so that's what I really get here: a heady pink/red rose with a touch of lemon citrus and patchouli's darkness.

Verdict: I'm not a fan of lemon, so it's very odd for me to say that I actually prefer the earliest stages of this scent. It's a fresh lemongrass with a bit of dimension from the patchouli, cedar, and sandalwood—and really quite pleasant, although it's not the sort of scent that I'd wear often. But the fleshy rosy florals are the same old sin of skin chemistry, and to my nose quite unpleasant. Other skin chemistries will probably have more luck, however, in keeping this scent balanced. I'll pass along my imp.

A second recommendation: Maledicte by Lane Robins

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 15:04:32 GMT

Some while ago, I did this for Sharp Teeth: I reread it and, though I have yet to re-review a book, I couldn't stop myself from making an impassioned, loving post in its honor—a second recommendation, more emotional, a bit revised, and just as passionate. It's interesting then that around the same time I discovered Barlow's wonderful Sharp Teeth, I also discovered another novel—and both of them immediately jumped to my list of favorite books, and they are still there now.

I am currently rereading Lane Robins's Maledicte. I have spoken of this book before—in my review, as well as a number of passing mentions since then. But coming back to it now, I can't help but take a moment to talk about it again.

This is perhaps my fifth reread of the novel. The first time I read it, I loved it. I treasured every chapter from the first to the last, and recommended it highly. Other rereads have been a smooth slide back into the dark but comforting world of the book, unraveling familiar intrigues, enjoying favorite characters. But for whatever reason, this reread is better even than the first.

When I first reviewed Maledicte I compared it to dark chocolate—and the comparison stands. It is as rich, as dark, as bittersweet as the best chocolate. It's easy to slip into, easy to get lost in, but this time I am reading it in small chunks and—like small bites of bitter chocolate—it seems best served that way. Because this time each scene, each sentence, has been striking me at my core.

Maledicte's gender is more fluid and more cleverly wrought than ever before. Never before has his journey towards revenge been more trecherous, more dangerous, more frustrating. Maledicte is sharper, stronger, so much more vulnerable. Vornatti is wiser, weaker, more lecherous. Gilly has never been so good a man, his relationship with Maledicte more fragile or more touching. And then when Maledicte and Janus meet again...

The black blade shivered in the light, a shadow chased by candle flames, moving. Falling. It clattered to the marble floor and Janus smiled. He slid his hand over Maledicte's shoulder, into the dark hair, and bending close, put his kiss first on Maledicte's mouth, then on the silk-covered throat. Maledicte threw his head back, in a movement as voluptuous as any woman's.

Janus murmured something too low for the riveted crowd. Gilly strained, but even his clever ears missed the word. A name? A prayer?

What Janus said, of course, in his crushed-velvet voice, was Miranda.
—Maledicte, Lane Robins, page 133

These words, they sing to me. They are lush, throaty, low, a sound as sensual as a lover's breath. They are beautiful. Much of one's taste in literature is personal and subjective, so I'm thankful for the quirk of taste that makes Maledicte nearly the perfect book for me. Faultless? No. But on this reread I am so enraptured, so swept up in my love for it that I could not think to ask for better. But enough of my bombast. I could praise the book a dozen ways and still never capture my love for it. In its darkness, its passion, in its beauty and decay, I love this book. I love it more now than ever. I recommend it wholeheartedly.

And now I turn back to it, for another bite.

Just checking in: I'm alive and well, consuming media, and fanning over Gurren Lagann.

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 10:27:39 GMT

Hello, dear friends list. I am not dead. I am however not even reading LJ—I've been swept up in consuming many many bits of media. I'm playing Assassin's Creed II (which is a much improved game from the first but, because of emphasis on a strong plot and varied missions, actually lacks the repetitive obsessive do-you-have-a-flag? nature of the first game). Once I beat it I'm considering either the Persona RPGs or a trip back into Sims, depending on what I own and what I have interest in then. I've been reading again, starting with Atwood's new The Year of the Flood which I'm having a very difficult time reviewing—first reviews after a long hiatus are always tough. (While procrastinating that, I've been rererereading Maledicte, which shall never lose its beauty in mine eyes.) I've been haunting a few image boards, among them 4chan's /y/, and through that have developed a renewed interest in anime. I watched Code Geass, with all its bombast and drama, and did quite enjoy it. While putting off reviewing that I started in on Gurren Lagann, which I am not ashamed to say attracted me because of the wealth of wonderful fanart for it, and that brings us to the reason I started this post. No one is online on IM at 2a, so I had no one else to say this too except all of you:

Gurren Lagann is composed of concentrated awesome. I mean don't get me wrong, I enjoyed Code Geass, but it did not bring out the enthusiastic fan in me until Rolo came along (because he is awesome, in an adorable vulnerable psycho way). But Gurren Lagann has me fanning. I was worried at the beginning, because the show is full of humor and I generally am not, but: The art style. The characters. Viral. Oh god, Viral. It has heart without taking itself too seriously, it has mech drama for fun and profit, and it has my favorite kind of character: a badass with weaknesses. (Viral's is of course that, strong as he is, tough as he is, angry as he is, he is everyone's bitch. He cannot look at someone sideways without ending up on his knees begging them for forgiveness or aid. And he hates every minute of it.) I'm hooked on him, hooked on most of the characters really; I'm enjoying every episode of the show and just had to share.

I'd squee about all of this to someone who cared if there was any such person around, but in lieu of such just count this as a very enthusiastic recommendation of Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann. For it is fun, addicting, exciting, and goddamn if it hasn't turned me back into a fangirl.

I have posts I may actually get around to writing, soon. Ghost and Aaron fic, perhaps. Book reviews, if I can ever finish them. BPAL reviews, which I really just need to format. But I'm just not around LJ much these days. I'm a dozen types of distracted right now, with all the media I'm consuming and also because things with the boy have been really wonderful lately, so I've wanted to spend as much time with him as I can. So while I'm ignoring everyone's journals, remember I still love you! Really, I do. And I hope you're well. (And I'll reply to your emails soon.) If there's anything you wish I had read, feel free to tell me here. I think I can pay attention at least long enough to read comments.

Happy Halloween! with obligatory picture

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 15:10:08 GMT

Happy Halloween!
After all the adult fic I've posted, after all the erotic art I've sold, this is probably the single thing for which I am most famous—around Halloween-time, at least. In the month of October I have about 30 visitors for this image every day, and a constant stream of linkbacks. So it seems almost required to share it.

I have absolutely no Halloween plans—perhaps a reading of The Raven and certainly a watching of The Nightmare Before Christmas ('though we'd be kidding ourselves to say I haven't been watching it all month long), but Devon and I don't go out to parties and we live out of city limits to trick or treaters will be rare. But this remains one of my favorite holidays, so I shall enjoy it. I hope you shall, too.

BPAL collection picspam, with a bonus picture of the view outside my window just before dawn.

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 06:40:28 GMT

While I'm spamming you all with BPAL reviews, I might as well pile on some pictures of my BPAL collection. I've not taken pictures since October 2008—and my collection has grown a bit in the passing year, mostly as far as bottles go.

My BPAL collection as of 10/2009.
I stocked up on bottles of some of my GC favorites, and have indulged in some LE purchases, and so my bottle collection has more than tripled. It may not be a lot by some people's standards, but it more than keeps me happy. As a result I've been more-or-less forgetting my imps lately, though I did move them into a new storage container (see below) so that they were more accessible and so that their old box had a chance to air out its so-strong-you-don't-want-to-open-me perfume haze.

Anyway, from left to right, top to bottom (also you can click through to see notes, or view it in a larger size if you're the type that likes to read labels):

Top row—rejected imps, empty bottles (for testing purposes), GC bottles, LE bottles.
Middle row—non-BPAL perfume, GC imps.
Bottom row—LE decants, imps to test.

My BPAL collection, boxed up.
My current storage solution is nothing too special—everything's just filed away in BPAL shipping boxes, now that I have one large enough to hold standing 5ml bottles. But as mentioned, the larger containers prevents them from gathering too much of a mixed-perfume fug. Boxes, from top to bottom, are: rejected imps, imp collection, and bottle collection. I have a temporary box full of imps to test, too.

I've currently been doing a lot of testing, which has been fun—but when I'm not testing out various unlikely blends on my skin, I'm neck-deep in autumnal scents. My late birthday/early Halloween order was wonderful success, and the Pumpkin Patches in particular are getting a lot of use. I'm also wearing a fair bit of Fearful Please (dried orange peels floating in simmering cider, roasted apples, smoldering firewood, chimney smoke, sassafras beer, warm hawthorn wood, and oakmoss) and Penny Dreadful (soft perfume evocative of noir heroines over rich red grave loam)—the latter of which is finally starting to age to its perfection of sticky gingerbread-ish dirt. I love autumn and cold weather for the chance to wear foodier, darker scents as well as my beloved musks and resins.

While I'm picspamming, I have a random photo for you:

The view out my window just before daybreak.
And larger:

Last winter I posted a picture of the condensation on my window—this is the same window this fall. The picture is entirely unedited save for cropping. Weather's been cold and wet as hell (yes, having just posted I am now realizing the irony of that statement) lately, but I'd not trade it for anything.

BPAL Reviews: Pumpkin I 2009, Pumpkin V 2009, Serpent's Kiss, Ether, Ephemera

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 05:56:12 GMT

PUMPKIN PATCH I (HALLOWEENIE 2009)
Pumpkin, almond, brown musk, and honey.

In the vial: Sweet warm pumpkin, spiced with brown musk.

On me: I've had bad luck with the creamy pumpkin in Jack, but the Patch pumpkin note is so different—it's drier, less creamy, never waxy, more like a true-to-life raw pumpkin than a pumpkin candle. On the skin the pumpkin in this blend is glowing umber, slightly spiced, dry and gourd-like but quite warm. It's not an outright foody note, so the almond and honey don't turn this into a bakery—they make the pumpkin richer, slightly sweeter, a little heady, and more golden. The brown musk is beautifully distinct, more spicy than animalic, with a slight powdery texture. All told this is pumpkin spiced by brown musk, rich and warm and comforting, yet somewhat unusual. I adore it. Scent-color is dark bronze; throw is moderate, and wearlength is moderate to high.

Verdict: This isn't my favorite of this year's pumpkins, but I am perfectly pleased with it. It's a difficult scent to describe, unfortunately—the pumpkin/brown musk combination needs to be sniffed to be understood. But the pumpkin is glorious, and the notes which accompany it make for a unique scent, warm and glowing, textured and slightly spicy in the nose, altogether remarkable and lovely. I feel lucky to have a bottle.

PUMPKIN PATCH V (HALLOWEENIE 2009)
Pumpkin, chocolate, coffee bean, vanilla bean, and hazelnut.

In the vial: Pumpkin and coffee. The pumpkin is warm and spiced, more savory than sweet and not at all buttery. The coffee is mellow but quite distinct. Comparisons to a pumpkin spice latte are apt.

On me: A pumpkin spice mocha. The Patch pumpkin note is divine, savory and dry, warm and golden. The hazelnut and vanilla cut down on some of the dry gourdiness, making it a bit lighter and sweeter. And the rest of the blend reminds me a lot of El Dia de Reyes: a powdery combination of coffee, milk, and cocoa. This is a foody scent, a wonderful warm pumpkin spice mocha, but it has a distinctly powdery texture (which I think is lovely) and the pumpkin and coffee keep it savory and grounded. Scent-color is flaxen (a creamy, pale, orange-yellow); throw and wear-length are moderate.

Verdict: Pumpkin Patch V is El Dia de Reyes (2008) meeting his new best friend, pumpkin. I wouldn't have expected the blend to be so powdery, but it has a lot of El Dia de Reyes's powdered milk/cocoa mix dryness. That's not a bad thing, though—it meshes well with the dry spiciness of the pumpkin, and the vanilla and hazelnut keep the powderiness under control. And Pumpkin Patch V is simply beautiful. Comforting, warm, foody but tempered, this is my favorite of this year's Halloweenies and I'm thrilled that I have a bottle.

SERPENT'S KISS (GC, Diabolus)
Seething with passion, yet utterly cold-blooded. Dragon's blood, vetivert and spice.
This was a frimp from the Lab, but I've been curious to try it.

In the vial: Spices and smoke. The combination leans towards foody but doesn't quite reach it.

On me: This isn't vetiver as I'm used to it—dragon's blood is so juicy that it washes out most of vetiver's harshness; what remains reminds me of liquid smoke: a thickened, darkened, somewhat woody scent that's so smooth it's almost wet. Surprisingly the dragon's blood isn't distinct outside of this effect—it may add a bit of roundness and redness to the scent, but it's very subtle. The spices (which remind meof traditional western baking spices, but are not foody) add warmth and dimension. This is an odd scent: warm, reddish, smoothly smoky—yet while all of those aspects sound cuddly and warm, this blend leaves me feeling cool. Scent-color is dull, dark burgundy; throw is moderate to low.

Verdict: Serpent's Kiss is at once exactly what it says on the tin and nothing like I was expecting. All the notes have the potential to be very bold, but instead they're toned down: a wet, reddish resin; a smooth smoke; a hint of warmth and depth. The combination is warm, dark, and spicy, though not quite "seething with passion"—but it is certainly cold-blooded. The scent has a sense of distance, coldness; I feel like it's pushing me away even though I'm the one wearing it. So while it's pleasant enough, nuanced and skillfully blended, I don't imagine I'd wear this much. I like a scent I can cuddle up in, and this isn't that. I expect I'll trade away my imp.

ETHER (GC, Phoenix Steamworks & Research Facility)
Translucent blooms, ethereal white resins, and davana.
A frimp from the lab.

In the vial: ...lemon? A very pale, delicate lemon—pleasant except that I usually hate the scent of lemon.

On me: During drydown this is lemon, a light sweet floral, and the smoothness of pale resins. It reminds me of a lemon square but white and fluffy and not quite so foody: a opaque white but still ethereal scent. Within half an hour, much of the lemon dies off and the blooms become more prominent, pale but distinctly floral; the sweetness combines with the florals to be a bit cloying, and the scent becomes slightly muddied and faint. It's still pleasant though, sweet and airy, lemony, fresh, floral, more-or-less ethereal. Scent-color is white; throw is moderate-high, dying down to moderate-low.

Verdict: Pale scents and florals rarely work for me; I generally hate lemon. So it's something of a surprise that I find Ether quite pleasant. I like its earlier stages more, when the lemon scent keeps it fresh and the florals are gentle; the later, more floral stage is decent too, but not quite as light or distinct. Regardless, this isn't the scent for me. I imagine it's lovely in the summer, but airy lemony sweet floral scents will never suit me regardless of the time of year. I'd love to smell it on someone else, though. I'll trade away my imp.

EPHEMERA (GC, Bewitching Brews)
The scent of loss, love and the echo of time without end: sorrowful violet and chamomile with muguet, white geranium, calla lily and tea rose with a hint of autumn leaves.
A frimp from the Lab which I would never have ordered for myself—I'm not a big fan of florals, but mostly it's that rose tends to amp to epic, horrific levels on my skin.

In the vial: Oh yeah, that's floral all right. Unfortunately I'm not very good at picking out individual floral notes.

On me: Because I'm not good at discerning most florals, this may be an entirely pointless review. My sense of this is largely fleshy white flowers, I suspect mostly the muguet and calla lily, which have a thick, almost cloying scent with a bit of sharpness. But the rose peeks its head out soon enough—a thick, pink, sharp scent, the rose never quite crowds out the lilies but it sure tries. As the lily and rose vie for supremacy, they combine into something fleshy and vivid pink, sharp and strongly floral—it lacks humidity but mimics the texture of tropical florals. I sometimes catch something a bit powdery (violet? chamomile?), and sometimes something a bit sweet, lurking in the background. Scent-color is pink; throw is moderate to low, and wear length is incredibly short—perhaps an hour?

Verdict: It's not unpleasant, but it's a little conflicted in its constant battle between lily and rose—and regardless, the florals in Ephemera just aren't to my taste. It also fades so quickly that there's little point in applying it in the first place. Neither my skin nor my nose much like this blend, so I'll send it on its way.

The story of the sympathy pains I get in my foot, and some thoughts on pain as an intensifier.

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 10:42:03 GMT

Many many years ago, when I was still a child, I encountered a piece of fiction—I believe it was an animated film, potentially part of a made-for-TV miniseries based on fairy tales, but all my attempts to track down it or any detail about it have proved fruitless—in which a character, who may or may not have been a some sort mermaid, stepped on a tentacle-like plant. It was sharp, or spiked, or in some other way injured her foot and poisoned her. The story's plot was an attempt by her companions to find a cure for the poison while the female character was trapped in a coma, nearing death.

Many of those details are irrelevant. Was is relevant is this: When that character stepped on that plant, I felt it. A sharp, stabbing sympathy pain on the sole of my foot—in the center, just above the heel, where the inner side of the instep draws a line of tender, vulnerable muscle down the foot. Ever since then, painful images, descriptions, or thoughts have been able to trigger that same sympathy pain. It doesn't always happen. It doesn't matter what sort of pain or injury is described. When the response is trigged I feel a stinging, stabbing, slightly cold pain in the sole of my foot, like a woman stepping on a pointed tendril, a tentacle, which penetrates her flesh, just barely flexes inside of her, which stings her, poisons her—all in the moment just before she realizes where she's put her foot.

What interests me though is that—as I discovered tonight—the reverse also works. I was sitting here, after spending too long online again, curled up with my feet pressed to the chair seat, my soles are cramped and sore from it, twinging with discomfort. Meanwhile I was looking at violent imagery for which I tend to have a remarkably high tolerance but on this rare occasion it was getting to me, disarming and disturbing me, paining me—because I was already in pain. I felt the effect of the emotion, and that helped trigger the emotion.

This is no breakthrough in how my, or any, brain works, but I hadn't thought about it before and it was fascinating to see in action.

I've been thinking a fair bit about pain lately—specifically about pain as an intentional intensifier. I have another storybit brewing for Ghost and Aaron (who are not forgotten!) about Ghost's reactions to pain during intercourse. I stumbled upon a drawing of a man touching an open wound on his partner's back and it was in my mind remarkable—so much so that it's had me in search of more equally images of intimacy via pain/violence/wounds (and here we loop around to the event that sparked this post). And the cold weather has my back muscles tighter than usual—which causes unwanted, undesirable pain, but also makes it very intense when Devon stretches my back—more intimacy via pain, because I would let no one else do that to my body.

None of this is new to me—I discovered BDSM far too long ago for that to be the case—but it's been fresh on my mind. I should write that Ghost and Aaron fic bit to put all these thoughts to a constructive purpose, and imagine I shall soon. But for now the thoughts of it swirl: the relationship between emotion, reaction, and pain; pain as an intensifier for social interaction, pain as an intensifier for physical reaction; pain as intimacy, sexual or otherwise. Thinky-thoughts, thinky-thoughts.

BPAL Reviews: Scherezade, Depraved, Vixen, Anathema, Lust

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 04:01:16 GMT

Completely unrelated to these reviews: As I am wont to do in autumn, many of my energies are currently turned outward to the beautiful world around me; ironically (because my mental resources are so limited), this extroversion makes me very quiet of the internet. So if I seem to be ignoring you, rest assured it is not you—it is everyone! I am distracted by beautiful weather, busy with my guinea pigs, watching anime and reading manga, and drowning myself in lovely scents. I am content and indeed alive but it will take me longer than usual to get back to people or post interactive content like, you know, Sims 3 stuff. Rest assured I shall return before long. And now: more BPAL reviews!

SCHEREZADE (GC, Bewitching Brews)
Saffron and Middle Eastern spices swirled through sensual red musk.

In the vial: Red musk and a general perfumey undercurrent.

On me: Red musk remains the predominant note, but the spices give it a lot of depth and personality. Musk tends to be slightly sweet on my skin, so the effect here is a barely-sweet, rich, deep, sensual red warmth. I wish I could say more about it, but I find it hard to describe—it's almost as if the scent is missing a defining characteristic. It's still lovely, though—I catch whiffs of the warm sweetness in the throw and it pulls me in to the thicker, redder, spicier scent at skin level. Scent-color is a gentle golden red; throw and wearlength are both low.

Verdict: I like Sherezade, but I feel like it's missing something. It's a lovely scent rich with red musk and warm spices, but it's oddly indistinct, hard to pin down and difficult to describe. The red musk is so predominant that it's easy to loop in with other red musk blends—the spices, while enjoyable, aren't enough to make it distinctive. Similarly while I enjoy it, I'm not bowled head over heels. I think I'll keep my imp, and I imagine pulling it out for an hour or two of intimate, warm snuggling. But as pleasant as it is, this blend isn't in any way remarkable.

DEPRAVED (GC, Ars Amatoria)
Earthy black patchouli swelling with apricot.
This was a frimp from the Lab, but one I've been interested in trying—I'm fond of dirty fruit scents.

In the vial: Bright golden apricot on first sniff, a darker earthier scent—;a surprisingly warm, comforting patchouli—on the second. I already like it.

On me: I'm reminded a little too much of the patchouli in Greed, which went a bit playdoh on my skin—some patchouli is too harsh, but this patchouli is almost too thick, with a resinous, malleable, almost musty quality. A lot of the apricot's sharpness dies off during drydown, but it might have been if it stayed because the juicy, golden, round scent that remains serves to bring out the patchouli's sense of thickness/mustiness. Scent-color is pale brown; throw is low.

Verdict: This may be a good blend for a room scent or a scent locket, because in the vial the combination of sharp, bright apricot and smooth, warm dirt is unique and quite lovely—I'm not crazy about it, but I like it well enough. On my skin, though, too much sharpness is lost and the end result is just a little too musty, a little too much like playdoh, dirty in an unpleasant way. My boyfriend wrinkled his nose at it and I'm about to wash it off, so I don't imagine I'll ever wear this. Since I prefer scents I can wear on my skin, I'll probably trade it away. Still, it was nice to have the chance to try it.

VIXEN (GC, Ars Amatoria)
The innocence of orange blossom tainted by the beguiling scents of ginger and patchouli.
I picked up an imp of this in search for a scent similar to Heaven and Earth Essential's Black Cat.

In the vial: A thick, mellow orange blossom darkened by patchouli. But it's a bit strange in a way I find hard to describe—it's almost a little boozy.

On me: As it hits the skin the components seem to separate: the orange blossom grows sharper and sweeter, the patchouli is a dark, more distinct shadow, and I can even pick out some warmth from the ginger. That distinctiveness fades a bit during drydown, but I can still pick out all of the notes—and they combine together into something truly lovely: sweet, warm, golden, but rich and dark with patchouli. It tends towards cloying but doesn't quite reach it, settling instead for unabashed. It's breathtaking, sensual scent, and difficult to stop sniffing. Scent-color is orange-gold; throw is moderate to high (and the blend is potent, too—it only takes a swipe) but it dies down significantly after about two hours.

Verdict: Vixen is lovely. It's remarkably similar to HAEE's Black Cat (Vixen is a bit smoother, less sweet, and less cloying, but the orange blossom/patchouli combination is the distinctive heart of both blends) and so in that respect it's exactly what I was looking for. But it's also beautiful in its own right. Sweet but dark, rich and beautiful, this unique blend with great throw and I can't stop sniffing myself. It's a real winner for me—I'm smitten. I only wish it remained gloriously strong for longer, but this is one that I will be happy to reapply.

ANATHEMA (GC, Sin & Salvation)
A scent as heavy as thunder from the Vatican, with notes that inspire every sin and excess. Black opium, with vetivert and honeysuckle.
This was a frimp from the Lab, and one which I'd not have ordered on my own—I don't have high expectations from honeysuckle.

In the vial: Black but bright: smoky vetiver, dark opium, and sweet, almost sharp honeysuckle cutting through. What it says on the tin, I guess, but it's a very striking combination. It's also a remarkably thick oil for being lab-fresh.

On me: I take that back, the vetiver wasn't smoky in the imp—but it sure is when it hits the skin. The intensity of the vetiver dies down during drydown as the opium rises to provide a bit of balance through its smoother, thicker scent. The honeysuckle is much less potent than it was in the vial, where it was edging towards a lotus-like sharp, sickly-sweetness; for a while it's almost too subtle, but it eventually becomes a sweet, barely-floral backing to the vetiver, and it's what makes the blend work. This scent is dark, smoky, shadowed, smooth, but threading through it all is a whiff of unexpected, and unexpectedly lovely, sweetness. Scent-color is a dark gray alternating with pink; throw and wear length are moderate.

Verdict: I'm honestly not sure what to think. I've been developing a love of vetiver for a while now, and so this blend scratches that itch—vetiver is the star, and the accompanying notes do a lot to keep it smooth and palatable. But the honeysuckle is so unusual, so distinctive, that the scent keeps catching me unawares. It's a bit disquieting—which fits the inspiration well, but may not make for a very wearable perfume. That said, I'm keeping my imp. This is too unique (and too unexpectedly successful) a blend for me to let pass by, even if I don't think I'll wear it much.

LUST (GC, Sin & Salvation)
Uncontrollable passion and insatiable sexual desire: red musk, patchouli, ylang ylang and myrrh.

In the vial: A spicy, incense-laden red musk—so I'd guess red musk, patchouli, and myrrh. No hint of ylang ylang, yet.

On me: The patchouli is a little harsh upon application but it smooths out during drydown. The initial phase of Lust is an incredible rich, spicy, warm red scent, glowing with the sweetish resin of myrrh but staring the breathtaking blend of red musk and patchouli, which together are spicy and dark, many-layered and sensuous and oh so beautiful. Nearing an hour into weartime, however, the ylang ylang finally makes an appearance: it's a sweet, thick, heady tropical floral. Red musk still adds depth and patchouli a bit of darkness, but the ylang ylang grows a bit too strong, sometimes overshadowing all other notes. It's still quite beautiful, but not as much to my taste. Scent-color is dark red morphing into rosy gold. Throw is moderate to low, wear length moderate to high.

Verdict: I'm not a fan of many florals, but ylang ylang is one of my sometimes-exceptions—and so it's not unpleasant for it to pop its head up in this blend. Still, I already have some lovely ylang ylang scents; moreover I absolutely adore the spicy red musk of this scent in its first hour and I'm heartbroken to see it pushed aside. I'm not quite sure what to do with Lust—it's beautiful to be sure, but not quite what I wanted. I imagine I'll trade away my imp eventually, but I'll hang onto it for a bit before I decide.

Cute guinea pig pictures: Alfie and Kuzco snuggling (!) together

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 20:30:01 GMT

I come bearing cute pictures, the likes of which may never be seen again. No, really:

On a whim I put Alfie and Kuzco on a chair together. Interactions between these two are the reason that Kuzco has spent the last few years living in a cage on his own: Alfie is pushy and borderline aggressive with Kuzco because Kuzco is a tiny little pig; Kuzco meanwhile has a Napoleon complex like you have never seen and will not take this behavior, ahem, lying down. They used to argue so constantly that Kuzco would try to jump out of the cage to escape it, and even without Dink around to egg them on (he used to pick on Kuzco once Alfie started it), I doubt they will ever be able to cohabitate. Bickering through the bars is best for them.

But yesterday on a whim, because I had one out and the other was begging at the bars, I put them on a chair together. A chair is a nice, confined, neutral area where there's not enough room for circling or strutting or humping attempts, and I was there to split them up as necessary. But what they ended up doing was snuggling. Alfie stuck his head into Kuzco's fur and eventually wiggled up against him so that they were a little overlapping mess of white and brown crazy spikes. Kuzco even lost his perpetual "they're all going to eat me" expression—eventually. They snuggled. It was adorable. It will probably never happen again.

So I took pictures.

Apologies for the shitty quality, but it's autumn in Oregon—we haven't a lot of natural light to go around. (And not only do I abhor flash above all things, trust me you do not want to see pictures of Alfie taken with it. He looks like a demon-pig.)

Alfie is definitely lonely without Dink—Mum compared it to losing a life partner and I think she's right. Alfie and Dink were rarely snuggle buddies but they were cage mates for years, and you can't get much more intimate than that. When Kuzco started living alone he grew a lot more human-oriented, coming to the cage bars for attention. Alfie, on the other hand, not so much. He's neurotic and distrusts humans entirely, so while he definitely desires contact he will never, ever ask for it. He has gotten better about out-of-cage snuggle time though, so that's something. Ideally he'd have a cage mate but I don't want to take on another pig, and Kuzco is a no go. So it's a split cage and begrudged snuggle time for him, poor boy.

On a related note, the boys are healthy and well. My headspace is much improved, as well—I think I am finally at terms with Dink's death.

BPAL Reviews: The Antikythera Mechanism, Trick or Treat '09, Three Gorgons, Bien Loin d'Ici

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 23:51:11 GMT

THE ANTIKYTHERA MECHANISM (GC, Phoenix Steamworks & Research Facility)
Teakwood, oak, black vanilla, and tobacco.
I am exceptionally wary of tobacco, but reviews of this scent convinced me to try it despite my doubts.

In the vial: Dirty, smoky vanilla layered over cheaply lacquered wood, but there's another note here that I can't pin down. The scent is tolerable but a bit unpleasant—but it has the potential to develop into something lovely.

On me: Hello there tobacco. Immediately after application this is everything I feared about the scent: stale old cigarettes against cheap, dirty wood. Luckily the harshness of the tobacco fades within a few minutes, but something of it remains, dark and dirty. The heart of the scent is vanilla which reminds me distinctly of Snake Oil: thick, very dark, and not too sweet. As Snake Oil does on my skin, it also pulls a bit of a disappearing act, a savory-sweet elusive scent that haunts the throw. But even if it's faint, this reminds me very much of vanilla extract left so long in the cupboard that it's thickened and gone grungy at the cap and is accompanied by a hint of cheap, peeling wood.

Verdict: This is a dark, savory vanilla with a lot of potential, but I can't move beyond the mental image of too-old vanilla extract in a peeling cupboard. Perhaps without the tobacco or with richer, deeper woods, this would work for me. As it is, it's not quite offputting but I'm not won over. I suspect that aging will help this scent deepen and develop, so I'll hang onto my imp for a bit—but I won't be wearing it as it is now. (And for what it's worth, it smells absolutely nothing like Glowing Vulva to me.)

TRICK OR TREAT '09 (LE, Halloween 2009)
The sticky sweet scent of candy corn! Even cornier for 2009! - cuz corny is how we roll at BPAL.

In the vial: Sweet but gently, so—the scent has a golden-orange color and a lovely warm, thick softness that keeps the sweetness under control. It's hard to describe, but I like it.

On me: For the first hour, this is a conceptual interpretation of candy corn: warm and golden, thick but with a soft, squishy sort of texture, gentle and really lovely. After the first hour passes, it becomes the precise, glorious scent of candy corn. I wasn't even sure what candy corn smelled like until I smelled this, and similarly I find it hard to describe. Soft, sweet, warm, plush, pure candy corn. I want to gnaw off my own hand, it is that accurate. Wear length is fairly long (5, 6 hours maybe?), but throw is sadly low.

Verdict: The golden warm scent on the drydown is wonderful, but the pure candy corn that it becomes is just breathtaking. It shouldn't, after all of these years loving BPAL, but it still surprises me when the Lab can pin such an elusive scent so precisely—but they do here. This is incredible and incredibly addicting. I was worried that even if it smelled nice, I'd have no reason to smell like candy corn on a regular basis. I shouldn't have worried. I want to smell like this all the time—and I am thrilled to have a whole bottle.

THREE GORGONS (GC, Salon: Exhibit II)
Egyptian amber, mandarin, tangerine, black pepper, tobacco, and vetiver.
Reviews of this blend have so intrigued me for so long (and I'm quite fond of the art as well) that I thought I'd splurge on a bottle, though I'm wary of tobacco.

In the vial: Plentiful citrus, a bit sharp—citrus peel, really, with the aromatic, airy quality of evaporating citrus-skin oils.

On me: Immediately on the skin this is citrus and Egyptian amber, the former golden and bold, the latter taming it and providing a warm, smooth base. A lot of the citrus burns off pretty quickly, shedding the sharpness to leave behind a subtle warm golden glow. The darker notes kick in during drydown—I mostly get a spicy, dark, beautiful black pepper, but there's also a broader sense of grounding shadows from the vetiver. The tobacco may contribute to this sense of shadows, but thankfully I can't pinpoint it specifically. Scent-color is, well—just look at the Klimt image. Throw is low, and wear-length is short, dying down to just a whisper after an hour, disappearing completely after three.

Verdict: This is nearly exactly what I imagined from the notes and the image the scent is based on. It's subtle golden citrus on warm amber, shadowed over by pepper and a touch of vetiver. The citrus fades a bit more than I'd like, but other than that this is what I hoped for and expected—except that the scent has such a low throw and short wearlength that's it's a bit of a letdown. Glorious as it is, it blossoms and fades so fast that it's more of an experience in scent than a wearable perfume. I may have to try applying more next time, but as it is my only regret about this scent is that it's gone so quickly.

BIEN LOIN D'ICI (GC, Ars Amatoria)
The Scarlet Woman, aglow with sensual indolence: red musk, benzoin, caramel accord, golden honey, and spiced Moroccan unguents.

In the vial: I don't like it, but I can't pin down notes. It's resinous (so benzoin, probably) but it has an odd, off-color, musty funk. Unpleasant.

On me: On skin level it's red musk, flushed and warm, but thickened by the resin/caramel combination which gives the scent an almost malliable texture and makes it cling to skin-level, thick and sensual. The throw has more of the honey's sweetness and is actually quite lovely. This one improves through the first hour of wear time, growing warmer, redder, and increasingly sexy. I want to like it (and often do!) but there's still something a bit funky about the resins that doesn't quite work for me. Scent-color is russet; throw is low, but wear length seems pretty healthy.

Verdict: This isn't quite what I expected. Bien Loin d'Ici is pretty bad in the vial, and though it much approves on the skin it retains some of the vial's funk. This is a deep, red, sensual blend, warm red musk thickened (but not too heavily sweetened) by caramel and resins. It's promising, but it's not quite me, and the resins seem a bit off to my nose. I suspect this blend may age well, so I'll hang onto my imp—but I don't see myself wearing it any time soon.

A cat: I sound like one!

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 21:09:28 GMT

The other day I came into the kitchen and Janet (Devon's mother) was there cooking. "You surprised me!" she said. "You shouldn't be so quiet. Wait, how can you be so quiet walking on plastic?"

Because there's a plastic sheet over the carpet in the hallways which leads from my bedroom to the living room and kitchen—so that we can use the hallway while we treat the carpet beneath with enzymes.

As I left the kitchen and started back down the hallway, Janet called out from the kitchen, "Madison!" And then came around the corner and saw me standing in the hallway looking confused and said. "Oh, I thought you were Madison. Sorry, you can be in the hallway."

Because we're treating the carpet to try to put an end to the cats using it as a litterbox, and we're afraid they'll try even with the plastic down. Madison is one of the two family cats, a tiny little tabby not much bigger than a kitten. This is Madison. And Janet mistook me for her. I know it's a little thing and it makes me no more a cat but really, it tickled me greatly. There's a certain self-righteous pleasure in thinking—a cat! I sound like one!

Of a trip to the farmer's market with my father and Jamie, with skin-warm rain.

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 19:59:20 GMT

Yesterday I went with my papa to the farmer's market. Every autumn a local orchard sells Liberty apples, the apples that which have spoiled me for all others. I am eating one now and trust me, after a Liberty apple all others are mushy and miserable—they're small, crisp, tart red and green apples with lovely flavor and crunch. My family buys them by the crateful as soon as they come into season and then feast on them through autumn and winter, and so I went with Papa and the family dog Jamie to buy them today. The weather the day before (and again today it seems) was mild and warm—so I went out in a short-sleeved hoodie, and of course the rain came down in buckets.

I pulled my hood up over my (freshly-washed, still wet hair) and Papa asked me, what, was I trying to keep my hair dry? By the end of our little walk I was able to wring water from that hood. Papa's hair was plastered to his scalp, and Jamie looked like she was covered in inky feathers rather than fine short fur. There were puddles on the side of the road, almost everyone had umbrellas, and the sky was thick and gray. Dogs are allowed at the farmer's market, but they're not in the booths—so James and I waited outside while Papa made quick purchases in each, standing alone on the dark roadway under pouring rain.

But it was still warm. So warm indeed that on my (admittedly cool) skin, I couldn't even feel the rain: the little pats of water droplets, yes, and the flow of water running down my forearms to drip from my fingertips; but it was a thin, gentle sensation, ghostly even—not because it was cool but instead because the water was just as warm as my bare skin.

The rain was intermittent but when it came, it came on heavy. It enveloped me. It washed my skin clean, the air clean, the street clean; it stained roadways and tree trunks to shining black against which autumn leaves glowed like embers. This was the first real rain of the season that I've walked in, soaked myself in, and properly enjoyed. It rains so constantly here that we all do get a bit sick of it, but because of days like yesterday I wouldn't trade it for much of anything. I grew up here, I learned to enjoy the rain from necessity—but now I love it, wholeheartedly. Pouring rain, clean wet streets, and autumn leaves. It was beautiful.

(The irony being: I still hate showering and hold an irrational fear of standing water.)

10 manga reviews: 6 boy's love, 3 boy's love by Minase Masara, and 1 straight hentai (crazy, I know)

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 19:42:33 GMT

I've been reading a ton of manga and barely reviewing a fraction of it, a combination which still leads to a few reviews piling up unshared. Same old warnings apply: these manga contain explicit sex and may contain BDSM, rape, or student/adult relationships. So to begin:

6 random BL manga:

Title: Hakui no Shihaisha (A Ruler Who is Wearing White Coat)
Mangaka: Kabutomaru Chouko
Chapters: 8
Rating: 3 of 5
Moriyasu sells medical equipment to a hospital where Nobuaki is a surgeon. Nobuaki teases Moriyasu because he suspects Moriyasu has hidden potentail—as a submissive. For a manga all about BDSM, this is surprisingly tame. There's hardcore sex, bondage, piercings, sex toys—but Moriyasu's idealized characterization and dedication to Nobuaki soften all those aspects such a point that this almost feels like any other boys love manga with a bit of bonus rope bondage. As such it's probably a good choice for those looking for something soft and sweet but kinky; I was expecting something a more hardcore and came away feeling underwhelmed. This isn't bad, but it's nothing special and I don't recommend it.

Title: Isso Mou, Kudokitai! (How About a Boyfriend?)
Mangaka: Mishima Kazuhiko
Chapters: 6
Rating: 3 of 5
School-teacher Ayukawa has always had trouble with women, so when Hino, one of his male students, becomes exceptionally friendly, he wonders is a boyfriend is the solution to his troubles in love. In the second half, another schoolboy is inspired by Hino's example and confesses his feelings for a classmate. What Mishima does best is defy the BL stereotypes of seme and uke, and that little detail transforms these otherwise unremarkable love stories to something pretty enjoyable. The art is lovely though the sex is frustratingly inexplicit, but the best part is the interplay between the characters who come together in relationships which work for them, even if it's not what onlookers (or the audience) expect. The second story (chapters 3-5) makes up the better half of the book.

Title: Love-Letter of Flowers
Mangaka: Mishima Kazuhiko
Chapters: 5
Rating: 2 of 5
A collection of short stories of boys falling in love: a music teacher finds origami flowers outside his door, a teacher blackmails a student, a student is too agressive with his teacher, and a man uses a coworker to gain sexual experience. The title story is the gem, here: It's adorable and romantic, short and sweet without feeling hasty. The other stories have promise but they all leave a little something to be desired, and despite their differences the stories become a little repeditive by the end of the volume. All told, this is a harmless diversion but there's nothing here that's really worth seeking out.

Title: Love Prism
Mangaka: Tohjoh Asami
Chapters: 6
Rating: 3 of 5
Two brothers are involved in a long-standing BDSM relationship, but when a schoolmate witnesses them having sex, he becomes obsessed with the younger of the siblings. This manga was never completed; what exists is the beginning of a complex story of attraction, incest, and abuse. Unfortunately, because it's incomplete it doesn't quite work: the story is unfinished, of course, and so the promising, dark plot is left unexplored; meanwhile, the disturbing aspects of that plot prevent what does exist from being entertaining smut. Would that the mangaka had had the chance to complete this—but as it stands, this manga is promising but ultimately disappointing.

Title: Three Wolves Mountain
Mangaka: Naono Bohra
Chapters: 6
Rating: 3 of 5
Graveyard-tender and restaurant-owner Sasugi finds two hungry werewolf brothers who have been kicked out of their home—and invites them to share his. I'm not quite sure what I thought of this manga: werewolves make for fun characters, but the supernatural settling makes for unbelievable plotlines; the romantic aspects are enjoyable, but they fail to be particularly exciting or memorable. I felt like I was forgetting this manga even as I was reading it—it leaves no lasting impression, and so I don't recommend it.

Title: Ushirosugata no Natsu no Neko (The Summer Cat Turns it Back)
Mangaka: Kunieda Saika
Chapters: 1
Rating: 2+ of 5
After seeing a black cat, a man is reminded of an old schoolmate—and then the schoolmate suddenly appears in front of him, and he seems not to have aged. This manga has an odd little plot which hints at the supernatural and can be somewhat confusing—until it resolves itself in a bit of hasty explication in the last few pages. Up until the final reveal, the surreal and confusing plot is actually quite delightful, and it puts an enjoyable spin on otherwise unremarkable characters and romance. But the ending ruins the concept, and I came away from this manga disappointed. Well, it was a nice try! I don't recommend it.

Also 3 BL manga by mangaka Minase Masara (there would be one more, but I'm saving it for a neko manga-themed post):

Title: Empty Heart
Mangaka: Minase Masara
Chapters: 2
Rating: 4 of 5
Ryuuta harbors a lifetime crush on brother's best friend, Usami—but Usami is caught up in his unrequited love for Ryuuuta's brother. But as fate would have it, Ryuuta is the splitting image of his sibling. Empty Heart has its weaknesses, including a few clichéd BL manga aspects and some too-quick plot developments, but Ryuuta's conflicted feelings make up for it. Initally willing to be his brother's substitute in order to get close to Usami, Ryuuta grows increasingly desirous of Usami's heart as well as his body, and the sympathetic progression of these emotions makes for an intriguing, enjoyable manga. It could have been better but on the whole I enjoyed this and recommend it.

Title: Unbalance na Netsu (Unbalanced Heat)
Mangaka: Minase Masara
Chapters: 6
Rating: 3 of 5
Ryuu tries to befriend his classmate Yoshito, but Yoshito's brother is determined to destroy their relationship—by any means. Unbalace na Netsu is a difficult manga to review. Rape-as-love is a pretty common trope in BL manga (a fact which deserves a myriad of commentary), and whether or not I approve of that I'm usually pretty immune to it—but in this manga, it's a little squicky. Minase is just honest enough about the trauma of rape that it's impossible to brush it aside as a tabboo fantasy, but not so honest that the protagonist doesn't manage to fall in love with his rapist. In this manga, rape is an idealized evil and that, frankly, is disturbing and unpleasant—so while the troubled characters and interesting love-triangle may be promising, Unbalance na Netsu is ultimately unenjoyable. Not recommended.

Title: Uso to Kiss (Lies & Kisses)
Mangaka: Minase Masara
Chapters: 7
Rating: 4+ of 5
Tatsuya is in search of his half-brother, but never imagined that he'd find him working part-time at a bar and certainly never imagined that he'd fall in love with Haru before discovering his true identity. I love nothing more to see a taboo premise realized rather than swept under a rug, and Uso to Kiss does just that: rather than shying from it, this manga explores the siblings's angst as they weigh incest and social taboo against love. It may not be wholly realistic, but the conflicted emotions in this romance are beautiful and captivating, and it makes for a beautiful love story if incestual themes work for you. The art is great, too—all told this is my favorite of Misase's work so far, and I recommend it.

And 1 straight (I know! this is crazytalk) hentai manga:

Title: Teacher's Pet (Sensei no Okiniiri)
Mangaka: Aihara Miki
Chapters: 1
Rating: 2+ of 5
Misuzu has just started working her dream job as a teacher. She's dating the school principle, but when she's assaulted by a student who's also the principle's brother, her job and relationships are thrown into turmoil. Teacher's Pet begins with rape and goes on to blackmail and abuse—all under the cover of confused, forbidden love. And that would be fine, except that it taints both halves: the twisted senarios are never fully realized, and the romance is entirely unbelievable. There's still some hot parts but on the whole, I found this manga intriguing but disappointing.

On Magical Madmen: a link and a reminder to respect the experiences of others

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 18:36:53 GMT

(Trying to catch up on a backlog of posts today, in order to keep my brain occupied. Expect your flist to be flooded, and all due apologies in advance.)

When I was at Reed (the second of the two colleges I attended), in an English class while discussing an author's mental illness, a classmate made a comment along the lines of: It's a good thing they didn't have Prozac back in those days, or this author wouldn't have written such good books. The comment was offhand and half-joking but it hit me hard and it has, obviously, stuck with me to this day. I tried then to respond but I was over-emotional and largely incoherent, and since I was responding to an offhand joke with serious discussion I seemed to be blowing the whole thing out of proportion.

This post: On Magical Madmen and Making the Bed by naamah_darling, is what I wish I had been able to say then.

I can't go back in time and give it to my classmates, but I can give it to you all now and that's far better than nothing. And I ask you please to read it, because even if this seems like a little thing to you, even if you don't understand why such an offhand comment could make such an impact, trust me that is is a very big thing for me.

Because nothing justifies the suffering that comes with mental illness. Whether or not madness comes with some sort of bonus like creativity, whether or not suffering makes one stronger, whether or not mentally ill people are wonderful or produce wonderful things: nothing justifies suffering, nothing makes it okay, nothing allows you dismiss it in an offhand thoughtless comment.

Because also when you dismiss suffering, you dismiss the sufferer. You say that his experience means less than your judgement of it.

Because the offhand remarks you make about "crazy" people may not be so offhand to the crazy person sitting three chairs over. When my classmate brushed aside one man's potential lifetime of misery, I had just transferred schools because I had had a wretched experience at my first college, I was eating rarely and missing many of my classes because I was petrified of leaving my room, I was self-harming, my grades were plummeting, I had a limited social life, I was on the verge of taking a leave of absence and, eventually, dropping out of school—in a word, I was depressed (and agoraphobic, and anxious, but depression was what ruined me). That is what mental illness does: it makes you suffer. To varying degrees, in different ways, it causes pain. It isn't something that happens to dead white men or something which disappears in the course of a joke: it's something that happens to someone that you know, someone who may be sitting beside you.

As you know me, and I was that commenter's classmate.

What my classmate said wasn't intended to be cruel, but that's just the point: thoughtless harm still hurts, and the only remedy is to encourage thought. So I ask you to read, and to think. This request isn't directed at any one person, and I trust that most people reading this understand or have already considered where I'm coming from. But there's never a bad time to stop and remember to respect the experiences of others.

In the aftermath of Dink's passing

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 23:13:18 GMT

Thank you all for your comments and support following Dink's passing. It's much appreciated.

Devon was an absolute angel yesterday, rushing home to cuddle me when I found out and making sure I was comfortable and comfortably distracted last night.

I am often petrified of the future, but I tend to live very firmly in the present. So much so that it's one of the hallmarks of my depression: if I feel unhappy at a given moment, I believe in my heart that I will always feel that unhappy, that I always have been that unhappy, that change is impossible. It makes one casual depressed evening into a lifetime of suffering. But as a corollary to living in the moment, I don't really miss things. I have a poor, fragmented memory and I don't anticipate the future (I'm more likely to dread it). When I'm apart from a friend, a family member, a pet, I don't miss them. I don't look forward to a time when I can interact with them again, I don't reflect fondly on a past when we were together. It makes me a pretty miserable friend and daughter and sister, really. Not being wanted tends to make people feel, well, unwanted.

I don't miss the family pets that died before my family went to England: not Sunshine, our beautiful and sweet Sun Conure who used to dance to "You are my Sunshine"; not Cokie, our chocolate lab that I had grown up with. I don't miss the friends that I left behind when I came back from England, although Lizzie was one of the best friends that I've ever had and whether or not she knows it, she changed my life. As incredibly displaced as I was at Whitman I didn't miss my family so much as I missed Oregon; I can go months now without going home and I don't miss my folks. When my grandmother died it never really hit home, I never really cried, and I don't miss her now, as fondly as I think of her. Devon is the only exception, the only person I ever really miss—after more than a day apart I yearn for him, so let me tell you those four years lived long distance were miserable. But he is, indeed, the exception to all of my rules.

I cried when I found Dink, cried and panicked and needed help to get him out of the cage. I cried when I let the pigs and Woof say their goodbyes. Cried when Devon came home to comfort me. And now when I visit Alfie I still expect Dink to be a dark shadow in the cage, and it surprises me that he's not there. But I don't miss him, I'm not crying now. I've slipped into the haze of confusion that follows loss; it'll transition next for me into a haze of acceptance, and that's it for me. It makes me feel a little coldhearted, I think. My sister Allie still mourns pets we lost ten years ago, and I admire that, the visibility and vastness of her love. I did love Dink—I loved that little furry eggplant quite dearly. I'm sorry that he's gone. But I won't really miss him. It's not how I work.

And so I move on.

Dink died today

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 21:18:54 GMT

In memory of Dink
My guinea pig Dink (Sir George Leonard Dinkerton, born July 2005) died today. He was starting to show signs of weight loss and gunky eyes; I don't know if an emergency vet visit would have saved him, and honestly I'm trying not to think about it too much right now. When I found him he was by all appearances asleep. I hope his passing was as painless as possible.

I'm grieving, but I'll be okay. Devon and his family have been there to hold me. Dink's cagemate Alfie was with him while he passed (probably during the night) and for some time afterward. Kuzco had a brief chance to say goodbye. I will probably rearranged cages within the next few days so that Alfie and Kuzco can share a divided enclosure—they've never gotten along and probably can't live together, but seeing each other through bars will do something to make each less lonely. They both look healthy and well, and yes I am keeping an eye on them. Woof, who loves the pigs to death, was the most distraught—when we placed Dink in a box (we'll bury him later tonight) she was desperate to have us take him back out.

Condolences are welcome. He was an incredible pig—smart, social, and handsome, and very dear to me. I haven't always been the best mother to him, but I've been spending a lot of time with the pigs lately and I am incredibly thankful for that. I was not there with him when he died, but he fell asleep in my lap not two days ago and so I still have fond and happy last memories of my beautiful, sweet baby boy. And so if you do just one thing after reading this, I ask the same of you: go cuddle some creature that you love.

And on that note, I'll be spending my afternoon with Alfie and with Kuzco.

Sims 3: Ghost and Aaron: Storybit 07: Aaron bottoms for the first time.

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 17:06:18 GMT

Since we've had a Ghost and Aaron interlude, and because any time is a good time for porn, and because century_eyes was brave, I also come bearing Ghost and Aaron fic: almost purely pointless porn, this was the first sex scene I ever wrote for the boys and remains a personal favorite. It's a bit of a reversal which is why I didn't post it sooner—it wasn't a good introduction to their sex lives. But seeing as you've already been introduced, there's no excuses now!

Enjoy.

Storybit 07: Aaron bottoms for the first time.
2500 words
Takes place at the tail-end of their new-relationship honeymoon period, around the time of this post.
Contains foul language and explicit descriptions of sex.

* * * * *
Aaron throws his head back and the shag of his hair falls every which way, sweaty curls plastered to his face, looping over his ear, swaying as Ghost leads the rhythm of his hips. Ghost looks up through unfocused eyes and sees the ceiling blurring into Aaron's skin, washed out pale; sees the mess of his hair and the shadows under his jaw, under his ribcage, coloring down to where their bodies meet in deep dark black that smudges the white and brings it all back to this: his cock in Aaron for the first time, squeezed hot and tight, jumping a bit as Aaron moans and drops his head again to meet Ghost's eyes.

But let's back up for a moment.

They're playing foosball when Aaron drops the bomb, nonchalant as he's ever been. "So I was thinking," he says, then scores, grins, retrieves the ball, and drops it back into play, "maybe we could mix it up sometime. Not that I'm bored or anything—I'm sure as hell not bored—but maybe you could fuck me?"

Ghost loses his grip on his handles and Aaron lets out a whoop when he scores again. Neither of them reaches for the ball.

"You mean like—"

"Yeah, man." Aaron's still grinning, but he's also fidgeting with one of the foosball handles. "If you want."

"Of course I do. I just didn't know if I could."

"I never intended to be on top every time or anything. Is that what they call it, on top? You know what I mean."

Ghost, nodding, looks a little dumbfounded.

"So I was thinking we could try it the other way. I might enjoy it. You certainly seem to."

"Well, yeah."

Aaron gives the handle a spin and the little foosball men turn a circle and a half, ending with their feet sticking straight up in the air. He grins and raises an eyebrow, but Ghost still has a strange look on his face, a little distant, a little confused. Walking around the table, Aaron slides between it and Ghost. He wraps his arms around Ghost's waist and touches their foreheads together, his hair tickling Ghost's temple. "With you, I'll do anything," he says. "I hope taking it up the ass will be the least of it." He nudges Ghost's forehead to tilt his head back and kisses him before breathing a soft, "Okay?"

Ghost shivers with a low moan and then fists his fingers in Aaron's hair, tugging, pulling Aaron's head back as he presses the kiss deeper. His tongue in Aaron's mouth is slick and rough, sliding against Aaron's own. He pushes Aaron back a step until the foosball handles dig into Aaron's lower back and Aaron whines and has to pull away.

"The bedroom, yeah?" Aaron says.

Which is how they end up sprawled out on the bed. Aaron lies on his back and Ghost straddles his hips, grinding taut jeans against the thin fabric of Aaron's boxers. Ghost sucks at Aaron's lower lip, tonguing Aaron's piercing, and Aaron moans into his mouth. They each have a leg hanging off the bed and the coverlet is rumpled beneath them.

Pushing up on tense arms, Ghost rocks their hips together and asks, "Where's—"

"Bedside table," Aaron says, and Ghost murmurs an, "oh yeah." He pulls away reluctantly. The drawer squeaks as he slides it open and he fumbles for the lube, setting it on the table top and looking back at Aaron.

"You're sure?" Ghost asks.

Aaron sits up and shucks off his boxers. His cock stands hard, harder still when he wraps one hand around it and tugs to the tip. He reaches out a foot to hook it behind Ghost's leg, urging him forward as he rubs his thumb over the head of his own prick. "I'm sure," he says. "Yes." He spreads his legs as Ghost steps between them, leaning back on the bed and looking up at Ghost. "So no pussyfooting. Fuck me."

Ghost sinks to a crouch. Ahead of him Aaron's legs draw a smooth, thin V that leads to the dark hair which shadows his balls and the base of his cock. Aaron still holds the head of his cock, twisting slightly, precome slick under his fingers. Ghost runs his palms across the panes of Aaron's thighs and then hooks his hands into the crook of Aaron's knees, pulling his legs up, spreading them, until Aaron is curled into himself and Ghost can see Aaron's cleft and his asshole, tight and flushed.

"I need to get you ready," Ghost says. "It shouldn't hurt, but tell me if—"

"Yeah, I know," Aaron says. He presses his sock-clad feet to Ghost's shoulders, curling his toes, tugging him closer. "I picked up on it from fucking you. Now come on."

Ghost runs one hand between Aaron's legs, dragging his knuckles over the base of Aaron's cock, across the swell of his balls, and then running his thumb over the tight ring of Aaron's asshole—dry skin gentle across thin, crinkled flesh and he can hear Aaron's head flop back against the bed. He presses gently, feels the muscle flutter, and smiles. He moves his finger in a slow circle and Aaron, speaking to the ceiling, swears in low grunts.

Reaching for the lube, Ghost uncaps it and slicks his fingers. He presses two against Aaron's asshole, lets the pads of his fingers rest there firm and steady as he can make them, though he feels like he's shaking all over and his shirt is damp with sweat and his jeans are stretched tight by the pressure of his cock. "Just breathe," he says, and hears Aaron gasp in reply. He presses a little more, steady and firm and slow, feeling the muscle begin to give under the pressure and pretty soon there's room for his fingertips, sheathed hot and slick within Aaron's body.

Keeping them there, he stands. "You okay?"

Aaron raises his head just enough to meet Ghost's eyes. "Feels strange," he says. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't stop."

Ghost presses his fingers deeper and it's even smoother, now, the stretch of Aaron's body, the slick slide of skin on skin. Before he knows it he's knuckle-deep and he can feel Aaron pulse around his fingers, making his cock twitch in sympathy, in anticipation. Ghost thrusts his fingers in, pulls out, finding a slow rhythm that Aaron pants to with moans rich on his breath. Ghost thinks maybe he should stretch Aaron more but isn't sure, thinks maybe this is enough if he goes really slow, and his skin is clammy and he's shaking and he can't wait anymore.

When Ghost pulls his fingers out, Aaron shudders, opening his eyes to look at Ghost. Ghost pulls off his shirt and says, "Give me a second..." His fingers slip over his fly and his shoelaces won't untie but eventually he's naked and Aaron is waiting for him, legs spread, fisting his cock, his face flushed and eyes bright blue.

"I think it'll be easier if you're on top," Ghost says, and his pulse is hammering in his ears. "So you can control the pace, okay?"

Aaron nods and slides forward, stands up, and Ghost can see he's trembling too—but they're both grinning. Ghost picks up the lube again and drips some into one palm before grabbing Aaron's ass with the other. He pulls their hips together and their cocks meet. Ghost slides his hand between their bodies, fisting their cocks together, cool liquid slipping down his length and dripping into his pubic hair. He shifts his grip on Aaron's ass, reaches into his cleft, and yeah, Aaron is still slick there, slick and opening under the touch of his fingers.

"Fuck," Aaron moans into the side of Ghost's neck. "Just let's get to it, yeah?"

"Let me lay down," Ghost says, but he can't help twisting his fingers first, smiling at the way Aaron's skin slides against his, smiling more at the way that Aaron moans and the way their knees knock together as Aaron shudders.

Which is how Ghost ends up lying on the bed with Aaron straddling him. They grind against each other, messy and wet, and Ghost is fingering Aaron's ass again. "Beautiful," he says as Aaron presses back towards his hand. "But scoot up." He slips his fingers free and cups Aaron's ass, urging him upward. His other hand he uses to steady the base of his cock as Aaron resettles, knees out at an awkward angle and hands pressed to the mattress over Ghost's shoulders. Ghost slides his cock along Aaron's cleft and then lines it up, breathing in as he feels tip meet hole. "Take it slow, all right? Bear down on me, it'll be easier."

Aaron nods and closes his eyes. One of his socks has slipped down, wrinkling over his ankle and sliding halfway down his foot, but Ghost can see the toes of his other foot curl and press into the mattress as he shift his hips and the head of Ghost's cock presses against him.

"And breathe, dude, breathe." Ghost cups Aaron's hips with his hands, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs, guiding him. "Slow. Breathe." Aaron's body is opening and Ghost moans to feel the head of his cock enveloped. He grips Aaron's hips to still him and they hold for a moment, Aaron's thin legs turned to tight cords of muscle, both of them trembling at an act halfway complete.

"I'm okay." As Aaron speaks his whole body moves and Ghost can feel it, a vibration, a tightening that grips his cock and pulls right at his core. Aaron's opened his eyes, and they watch each other. Ghost nods, relaxing his grip, and Aaron sinks down, slowly, opening and clenching and sliding down until he's sitting in Ghost's lap, bent over, hair in his face, and they're both panting.

But the pause doesn't last long. Aaron dips his head and nudges it against Ghost's, his breath hot, whispering, "Come on." Ghost nods again and tenses his legs against the bed, grips Aaron's hips, and they start to find a rhythm. Aaron is as relaxed as Ghost could hope for, but he's still so tight, so solid. "You feel incredible," Ghost tells him, and Aaron grins his wide grin, hair disheveled and piercings glinting and makeup even messier than normal, and says, "Fuck yes." They find a firmer, broader rhythm, Aaron pushing against the bed and Ghost leading his hips, both of them arching into one another and the impact, the penetration, of flesh.

Which is why, not too many moments later, Aaron has his head tossed back and his eyes screwed closed and Ghost is looking up at him, vision blurred and cock aching. They meet eyes again and, legs bent and tense, Ghost slams up into Aaron and they both moan. "So fucking strange and don't stop," Aaron gasps. "Can you—"

Ghost is drifting beyond words but he can figure out what Aaron needs and he shifts one hand to Aaron's cock, pulling up on it as Aaron sinks back down. Aaron groans his appreciation and he's more than enjoying it, he tosses his head back again and his cock jumps in Ghost's hand as he says, "Never knew..."

"Yeah," grunts Ghost in reply, and he digs his fingers into the flesh of Aaron's hip and drags him down, slams up, lets his own head fall back and screws his own eyes shut and it feels amazing. Neither of them can think why they didn't do this sooner, but then neither of them is thinking very much right now. It doesn't last much longer—Aaron's legs begin to tremble from the unfamiliar effort of riding Ghost's cock and he falls forward, leans against Ghost's chest and lets his cock grind between them while Ghost buries his face in Aaron's long hair and they fuck, gasping and clenching and pushing against one another until Ghost pants out a short, "I'm gonna—"

"Okay," replies Aaron. Ghost squirms a hand between their bodies again and tugs at Aaron's cock—and Aaron tightens, every inch of him, and Ghost can feel it, can feel himself swearing something but he's not sure what, and then he empties himself into Aaron, thrusting his hips to a broken rhythm while he comes even sooner than he anticipated. Aaron feels Ghost's cock twitching inside of him and groans at that, groans again in frustration as Ghost's hand stills on his cock, hovers at the brink of orgasm but can't quite cross it. Aaron gives Ghost a moment but not much more before, squirming, almost whining, he says, "Hey."

"Oh, fuck, sorry." Ghost tightens his grip on Aaron's cock and starts jerking him off with a purpose, twisting his fist over the head, pressing his thumb to the underside, his hand hot and slick and sliding between them. His cock is hard inside Aaron still, twitching with the last effects of his orgasm, but it's fading—and as Aaron climaxes, jerking and crying out and spilling himself all over Ghost's hand and stomach, Ghost's cock slips out and spills come from Aaron's reddened, opened asshole, fluid trailing a shallow mess down his inner thigh.

Aaron rolls off Ghost and they lie side by side, legs still overlapping, sweating it off on the quilted coverlet. They cool too much and soon Ghost starts to shiver and tugs up one edge of the quilt, flops it over them, and they lie tangled and let their breathing slow.

Eventually Ghost turns. Facing Aaron, he reaches out a hand and smooths back Aaron's sweat-curled hair. Aaron is makeup-smudged and freckle-marked; Ghost's face is bright and clear and exceedingly pale. "You okay?" Ghost asks.

"Yeah," Aaron replies. "I think so. That feels so fucking strange and just—I don't even know. It's really intense. Does it always feel like that?"

"Probably not. No pain?"

"It stung a bit at first and now I feel like I've been run over by a truck but it's not my ass so much as everything else, you know? Fuck, I think even my brain hurts. Will I be sore tomorrow?"

"It's never as bad as you expect," says Ghost.

Aaron nods. After a moment he says, "I sorta feel like I should apologize for fucking you so often. I mean, if it's half like how it was for me—how do you stand it? I mean, shit, it was really—it's intense. Was I rubbish? I can barely even remember it now. I had no idea what I was in for. What a mind-job. Sorry, I'm not making much sense, am I?"

"You are sort of rambling," Ghost says, smiling. "But I don't mind. And you can fuck me whenever you want, Aaron. I enjoy it. But if you don't want to be on bottom often—"

"Well not never or anything—"

"That's fine. Sometimes works for me. I'm just glad I had the chance to do it at all because, seriously, Aaron—you're exquisite."

Aaron's grin is wide and bright and young. He snuggles up against Ghost and, as Ghost holds him, chatters on a bit, burying his words in Ghost's shoulder, neither of them really paying attention to what he says. Staring past Aaron's dark hair, silent and still, Ghost smiles to himself.

Sims 3: Lots of kids with the Boarders and a bit of Ghost & Aaron

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 16:47:21 GMT

This is a family of artists and musicians—here, Andrea delights in her father's music.
Manson, not long after, achieved his lifetime wish (first is the household!): he's a movie music composer.

Andrea grows to childhood and she has no patience for her screaming little brother.

James grows to toddlerhood with ... purple hair, inherited from his grandmother. Yeah, I changed that.
James is athletic and outgoing—perhaps the most normal in the family.

Skylar is not lately been lucky in love, and his flirting with Dominic is interrupted by a shouting match with Michael.
He and Michael had been flirting before, but they're on rotten terms now.

So Skylar went into town for some late-night fishing and who should be there but Ghost and Aaron...

Being adorable, as they often are.

After watching them, Skylar wandered over to flirt with Ghost—who was completely disinterested.

So once again, Skylar loses out in love. I actually feel sort of sorry for him.

Matson meanwhile breaks up with Hal—because ever since he moved out, he hasn't stopped by the house.
Something always "comes up." It was just getting silly, so she went to visit him—and dumped him.

And this one just amuses me. ^_^
Skylar uses his strange sense of humor to put others to sleep—and yeah, inside he finds that a little bit funny.

This is just a totally random picture of Nika, just because it's so her.

Manson with James—mostly because I liked Manson's pose.

Sarah meanwhile is cooking up child number four (and Andrea approves). This family is just adorable together.
To save you all another labor photo, I'll just say: the next baby is a loner little girl named Penny.
Yes, just one. So much for that fertility perk, yeah?

James plays the xylophone for his mother.
He's the most average/normal of the family, but he's still turning into something of a musician.

Terry meanwhile ... Terry is obsessed with A Magnetic Attraction. Which is, yeah, a romance novel.
He has three copies of it in his inventory. Thank goodness I have autonomous rereading turned off is all I'm saying.

Terry grows to an adolescent and ... am I the only one who thinks that looks a bit wrong?

I love everything that this picture of the siblings leaves unsaid.

Matson meanwhile picks up boyfriend the third: Asher Kimbel.

Asher makes himself, er, right at home.
He's sorta hot, ain't he?

Ewww seriously what do you have to do to a highchair to get it this filthy?

Penny grows into a toddler (the baby stage is over quicker and quicker these days...) with yet more purple hair.
I named Penny knowing that I'd eventually fiddle with her appearance a bit, and so I did.

She's the first with whom I made any major changes: skintone, freckles, and hair. I love how she turned out.
So while Sarah was getting started cooking up the final bean, because I was tired of morning sickness and glitchy pregnancy outfits, I took a few days off to visit Ghost and Aaron:

Who are adorable, as always.

Although Aaron is an ass, like always.

But little things are changing: for one, they're both obsessed with music.
Aaron with the stereo (so much so that I had to kill autonomous dancing), Ghost with his guitar.
For a long time, he only played the guitar when he was out and about, either because he had nothing better to do or in order to diffuse social tension—because plucking out a bit of music was appropriately social, but non-romantic and comfortably introverted. But these days, he's decided it's finally time to buckle down and learn that skill. Now he plays it all the time.

Unrelatedly, I decided it was time to rid Aaron of the obvious criminal-stripes and improbable hat he wore for work.
So this is his new work outfit. And, er. I think it's sexy. And a lot more practical, too.

Also unrelatedly, this is just a pretty shot of Ghost.

I am a little bit worried about Ghost, though, as he's becoming absent-minded to a fault...
He near-constantly forgets what he's doing while halfway through it. That's a bit much even for him.

But when I was with them, the boys shared a rare, blessed event: Ghost stayed up late, Aaron slept early...
And for a few hours, even with opposing schedules, they shared a bed.

So, yes. Sex, and love...

And rock and roll, or at least some guitar music.

Speaking of that picture behind Ghost, here it is in full. Painting shots may be a bit boring, but:
This is my favorite of Ghost's paintings by far because, in a single image, this is the world inside his head.

Ghost and Aaron are still lovely and in love with each other, to the point of sometimes forgetting about the outside world.

So back to the boarders household and some more babies!

Penny's transition into childhood is somewhere between horrific and ugly. No worries, though. She cleans up well.

Terry wonders if Sai realized that he is, in fact, still a child.

She has good reason to be confused. Terry has a voice like you would not believe—incredibly deep.
Boy has some serious testosterone. So he grows some facial hair.

Sarah and Manson drive off to the hospital for Sarah's fifth and blessedly final delivery.
They go in a limo, of course. Bonus! If you look real close you can see Manson's "ohfuck" expression.
I was certain that they were going to have triplets or something with this final pregnancy, but thankfully:

They just had one, an insane little girl named Mariella. Mariella is named for the Kate Nash song, so:
Since wearing black is mysterious, she always does. She's adorable.

How weird is it to prepare cooking ingredients in the bathroom?

Weirder when you realize just how far the bathroom is from the stove.
(Oh hai, it's the ground floor of this massive house.)

Andrea aged to a teen and let me tell you: she is absolutely gorgeous.
I'm a bit surprised, really. And smitten.

And I told you Penny cleaned up well. She's also taken to teaching herself chess, as introverted geniuses are wont to do.

So here's the whole Silverman-Moore family. From left to right:
Andrea (second), Sarah (mother), Mariella (fifth), Terry (first), James (third), Manson (father), and Penny (fourth).
Now they all just have to survive to adulthood.
You may or may not have noticed that Manson and Sarah have aged a little bit. It seemed only appropriate. But time does work very strange in my town: children can grow up while adults barely seem to gain a year, and you'll find that when I go back to Ghost and Aaron it's likely that only a month or so has passed. I have no shame in forgoing realism!

That's almost all for now. Right after I post this, I have a bit of porny Ghost & Aaron fic for you all—posted separately to divide children from porn and to save the disinclined from accidentally scanning it. (Of course I'll probably post a suggestive picture to suit it, so it's not like any eyes will really be spared. But oh well.)

Sims 3: Boarders: An epic 60-pic post: Sarah, Manson, and babies, plus so much more.

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 11:36:28 GMT

Beware, for this is an epic post. I've been back in town for a few days but have been deep in hermitage, recovering from time spent out and about—and the boy and I were also in the process of formatting the computer. After a while without posting, a few days without Sims, and even more without an image editing program, I now come bearing a virtual ton of photos.

Have yourself an oversized helping of the boarding house, featuring Manson and Sarah and their love and babies; Matson, Dominic, and the antics of heartbreakers; Skylar, Rose, and their love of children; bathroom accidents, boykissing, and a cameo by Ghost and Aaron.

The theme here is babies. Lots of babies. Some oddness, too, and some humor, but also lots and lots of babies.
Isn't Sarah just the epitome of grace?

Baby-making time nao. Sarah wants five.
They'd better get right to work.

In the afterglow, Manson seems awfully self-satisfied.

This is Rose—so photo'd just because I think she is lovely and deserving of a portrait.

Success! We have a baby-bean.
For all but this first pregnancy, I used a 9-day pregnancy hack (base-game is 3-day). There was so. much. vomiting.

Sarah is a beautiful and proud mom-to-be (except when the game gives her ugly-ass maternity clothes, which is often).
And goodness me, but there are a lot of women in this house.

I've missed seeing brightly-haired boys playing in the sprinkler at sunrise.

Student life isn't always easy, but Annie is a hard worker.
I also love how she looks with her hair unbound.

I love this picture because childlike doodles really are Rose's style.

"It's neat how you contain a factory for making more of you."

Matson and Dominic finally hook up and get it on. Her first boyfriend!
And I totally wrote "Manson" the first time, which is just so wrong.

Sarah's first baby is a home birth, during which Manson ... eats dinner.
I think he was in denial about it all.

Manson begins to doubt whether this whole baby thing was a good idea. (He's a light sleeper, poor boy.)
Rose on the other hand is quite taken with the child. He's a boy, by the way, named Terrance (call him Terry).

So, yeah, this is Eliza. Eliza is a little bit strange.

And this is Eliza, peeing herself not two inches from the toilet.

And this is why Eliza is having bladder issues: her third cup of coffee in as many hours.
Sleep is for the weak! Nighttimes are better spent hacking computers and drowning in caffeine.

Rose and Skylar are pretty much obsessed with Terry.
Sarah and, yes, Manson too are fine parents—but these two are with him at any chance they can get.

Reprise. These interactions have spawned all sorts of backstory about repressed affections and sublimated desires...
Yeah, I 'ship Rose/Skylar-cest. Does this actually surprise anyone?

After putting Terry to bed, Rose watches Sarah sleep.
Which is only a little unsettling, yeah?

At least Matson isn't surprised when Dominic's sights stray—which is a good thing, because stray they do, and often.

Yes, random townie, that is an abandoned larva-baby.
Sarah was hungry and hungry girl's gotta picnic, baby or not.

So I took pity on the larva and aged him up—and Skylar was there to mark the occasion.

Look familiar? It should. Terry was born a virtuoso, just like his father.
He has his mother's hair and eye color, by the by: black and green.

More baby-making! Their creator demands it and Sarah's lifetime wish requires it.

Matson's harem. The reversal amuses me.

Manson has become a wonderful father, to my delight. Thank goodness the sins of his mother have not passed down.

Manson has also become incredibly popular (and a guitar expert).
This is all the more ironic because he's a loner and crowds frighten him.
(I appear to be going through a purple phase right now.)

I suspect that children are not in Annie's future.

A long while ago, Sarah rolled the wish to propose to Manson—and then the game crashed. So I was delighted when:

On a casual date at the park... (bigger better)
Sarah gets down on bended knee and, child in tow and another on the way, she proposes. He says yes, of course.

What an adorable family.

Let not Matson deceive you:

She's still evil. (Poor Terry is dumbfounded.)

Similarly, Matson thinks the graveyard next door is epic awesome.

Scaring your elderly landlady just seems like a bad idea.

Sai isn't quite sure why she's caring for the baby. (She dislikes children.)
It takes a village—or an overstuffed household—to raise a child, I guess.

Though the problem with such a large house (save times aside):
With so many bathrooms, I tend not to notice a leak in one until the room has flooded.

Just Skylar and Terry.

So I cammed across the house and: this surprises no one, right?

Surprised or not, Matson is not pleased.

And so comes an end to boyfriend number one, that cheating bastard.

Skylar's fondness for Terry puts him in an odd place with Sarah:
Not quite unfriendly or friendly, mostly he wishes he could replace her.
This is what I mean by ugly-ass maternity clothing, by the by.

Sarah's second delivery causes a bit more of a stir.

Flying mother-to-be! She decided she wanted to have this one at the hospital.
The second baby is an artistic virtuoso girl named Andrea.

Manson meanwhile has been romancing Hal. Meet boyfriend the second.
They're sweet together but they lack spark.

Sarah sleeps one whole night with her eyes open. It was a bit creepy.

The next day, Manson realizes there's a bit of a crowd...

But they've gathered for a good reason: he's about to get married.
It was a small ceremony with just family, close friends, and household...
And Aaron and Ghost, because I couldn't resist inviting them.

No one likes a crying baby, even when it belongs to the bride and groom.

During the ceremony, Ghost watches Aaron. It's adorable.
(No, neither of the boys are the type for public recognition or legal arrangements, but love still sparks thoughts of love.)

The exchange of rings, and so I present: Manson and Sarah Silverman-Moore.
That night they conceived again. I warned you there was a lot of baby-making here!

Skylar goes on a date with Dominic ... and brings baby Andrea.
So you can see: Skylar and Rose are still hugely fond of the children. Skylar is Terry's best friend, in fact.

Dominic didn't really appreciate it and wandered off at the first opportunity.

The larva stage never lasts long—it's really boring. But isn't Andrea adorable?
She has her father's coloring, with bonus freckles (which was an editsim addition—I thought she needed them.)

Sai dislikes children, but she loves books enough to outweigh. And damned if this isn't the cutest thing.
At about this point, I should note that Hal and Annie moved out because the house was getting a bit too full—and prone to crashing—even for my tolerances. I enjoyed having both around but they were the least interesting to play, so they were the easiest to send packing.

Camming around Ghost and Aaron's place at night (yes, I do this, leave me alone), I noticed Cornelius leaving...
He takes a drive. In a limo. To the diner. No, I don't even know what to tell you.

This never happened: Manson (son of two rock stars, though not one himself) begins rocking out...
Just before jumping into the car to drive to the hospital for delivery number three.
It never happened because the game crashed just after, but I saw it and now you've seen it, so it's real enough.

This did happen: Sarah goes into her third labor, poor girl.

Endless hours of kid's TV and books and music and all she got was one sprog.
Meet James.

They got right to work conceiving baby number four ... and hopefully more, because she has the fertility perk now.
I just pray they don't have triplets, because they don't need quite that many.
(Yeah, that's Andrea sound asleep in the background.)

And I'll cap things off with a bit of wedding porn, to better show off Sarah's dress:

And their love.

Upcoming Ashland trip; purchased shinies and smellies. Also, FYI, I'm a bit out of touch right now.

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 19:21:50 GMT

Ironically with autumn finally here, I've been more introverted out in the real world of pumpkin spice lattes and red leaves—and thus have less energy for online stuff. If I seem to have suddenly disappeared, this is why. Rest assured I shall return—but not for a few more days because:

Tomorrow, I'm off with my parents to Ashland to see three plays at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival: Macbeth. Henry VII, and Bill Cain's Equivocation, which ties into the both. If you know me, you know that I am abubble with excitement and cannot wait to get there. Macbeth is the one that I'm most anxious to see, of course, as it is my favorite among favorites, my darling, my precious. This is my third OSF Macbeth production, and they've never disappointed me before. Plus, have you seen the poster art? It's incredible. And yes, I can quote all of the lines that appear in the castle. Anyhow, I shall probably review the plays when I return, as is tradition. And I shall eat well, and the weather is lovely, and plays!

Meanwhile, I finally spent the birthday money that I got from my parents and grandparents. And well-spent it certainly was. sihaya09's Ambre Vert awaits me at my parent's house when I meet them before the Ashland trip—amber and peridot are my favorite stones, and so green amber thrills me to my core. This looks to be stunning, and I shall wear it often. I also bought a metric shitton of BPAL (as so judged by someone who rarely has money and spends it even less often), for once spending without reservation. My order is:

5mls of:

THREE GORGONS (SALON) Egyptian amber, mandarin, tangerine, black pepper, tobacco, and vetiver.
I've wanted to try a Salon blend for a while, so finally splurged on one (they're somewhat more expensive and un-easily-impable). I am somewhat wary of the tobacco, but the combination of notes looks lovely and Klimt is one of my favorite artists—if the scent at all resembles the art that it's designed to, I expect this shall be lovely.

HAUNTED (GC) Soft golden amber darkened with a touch of murky black musk.
A few days ago I reopened my imp of Haunted and fell in love again, hard. This was one of my first favorite BPAL scents because it perfectly resembles the amber resin that sisterite sent me so long ago and which inspired my obsession with smellies in the first place. Sadly, that imp cracked and was lost, so a long time I was Haunted-deprived. When someone (sisterite again, yeah?) sent me a fresh vial a few months back I was underwhelmed by it, but with a bit of aging and some better weather the scent is, once again, perfect: soft, powedery, golden amber resin that I want to bathe in. I can let this bottle sit and age to perfection while I rush through the imp, and then bathe I can indeed.

TRICK OR TREAT 2009 (HALLOWEENIE) The sticky sweet scent of candy corn! Even cornier for 2009! - cuz corny is how we roll at BPAL.
As considered before. I'm still wary of a just-sugar scent, but reviews convinced me that it may be so like candy corn that the sugar shall not be a drawback but rather the point.

PUMPKIN PATCH I (HALLOWEENIE) Pumpkin, almond, brown musk, and honey.
As considered before. Reviews seem to line up so well with my highest hopes for this blend. I've also been craving almond and wearing a lot of honey, so this was a shoe-in. I'm already anxious for it to arrive.

PUMPKIN PATCH V (HALLOWEENIE) Pumpkin, chocolate, coffee bean, vanilla bean, and hazelnut.
As considered before. The return of pumpkin spice lattes isn't the only reason I bought this one, but it definitely made the decision easy. The reviews look stellar, again perfectly matching my highest expectations. I only wish that the turnaround time were shorter, because I want to wear this one right now.

And an imp pack:

SCHEREZADE Saffron and Middle Eastern spices swirled through sensual red musk.
THE ANTIKYTHERA MECHANISM Teakwood, oak, black vanilla, and tobacco. (Tobacco scares me, but I've been curious about this one forever, so I am being brave.)
BIEN LOIN D'ICI Red musk, benzoin, caramel accord, golden honey, and spiced Moroccan unguents.
LUST Uncontrollable passion and insatiable sexual desire: red musk, patchouli, ylang ylang and myrrh.
SHADOW WITCH ORCHID This perfume is a dusky orchid, subdued and ethereal.
VIXEN The innocence of orange blossom tainted by the beguiling scents of ginger and patchouli. (Supposed to be similar to the Heaven and Earth Essentials scent Black Cat, which I enjoy.)

All of this partially shared for record-keeping purposes—this is the easiest way for me to remember what I bought when. Anyhow, see you all on the flip side!

11 reviews of boy's love manga by Sadahiro Mika

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 08:16:04 GMT

After reading Mukizu ja Irarenee (find the review here), I said that I would run off to read more of the mangaka's work. In fact, what I ended up doing was rereading Mikuzu ja Irarenee, and I'll be damned if it isn't even better the second time around. So after that I did go and read more by the same author. Not just more: almost everything I could find. Since there's so much, I'm splitting these reviews into their own post; since a number of the volumes have sequels, I'm posting them out of alphabetical order (in fact, they're posted in the order which I read them). Same old warnings here: these manga contain explicit sex and may contain BDSM, rape, or student/adult relationships. Here are my thoughts on Sadahiro's oeuvre:

Title: Buddy System
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 5
Rating: 3 of 5
Haruomi and Kiichi are police partners who have decided to take their relationship to the next level: after they complete their current undercover mission, they'll have sex for the first time. Buddy System bears some superficial resemblance to the manga Fake in the characters's personalities, sexualities, and careers—but where Fake is a tortoriously slow seduction, Buddy System is a constant parade of porn. That concept only sounds good—in reality the characters, plot, and sex are all unrealistic, so while there's trace evidence of a nuanced relationship between the partners and some hot sex scenes, the majority of this manga is unbelievable and therefore unremarakble. There are worst wastes of time, but I don't recommend it.

Title: XI Extreme Love
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 6
Rating: 3+ of 5
A partial sequel to Buddy System, XI Extreme Love chronicles the further adventures of Haru and Kiichi as well as Kiichi's ex-lover, Shishimaru, a man who will do anything for money from start an affair to turn a homophobe gay. To my surprise, this semi-sequel improves on the concept of Buddy System. The stories about Haru and Kiichi benefit from being toned down a bit; the stories about Shishimaru are over the top, but they suit his character. Meanwhile the art remains decent, and the sex scenes are all the better for their more realistic settings. The manga still has problems and it's not worth going out of your way for, but this sequel is a pleasant improvement on the original.

Title: Angnus Dei - Lamb of God
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 1
Rating: 2 of 5
Hisoka is a caretaker for a rich man's vaction home--until that man, now in a wheelchair, hires him to have sex with his wife. But Hisoka's desires extend a bit further than the wife. Lamb of God is one big parade of WTF. From cold-hearted wives to love-via-rape, the plot is as clichéd and unbelievable as a soap opera, and the characterization is no better. The art is decent and the premise has potential (would that it were a little slower and somewhat toned down), but as it is Angnus Dei is rushed, unbelievable, altogether just plain weird. I don't recommend it.

Title: Innaikansen (Nosocomical Infection) and sequel Shijii (You are a Physician in Charge whom I Love)
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 7 and 6
Rating: 3 of 5
Brilliant surgeon Iori and married physican Tomoya have been conducting an affair in the hospital room of a comatose boy. But the night that Iori cuts things off, Tomoya is rushed to the ER—and not much longer, the comatose boy awakes. This short series isn't bad: the plot, full of medical drama and amnesia, tends towards soap opera-esque, but characterization is decent and the relationships have pleasant complexity—they aren't quite convincing, but at least they're interesting. Yet there was nothing here to capture me. Neither character nor the sex stand out in my mind, and that combined with lackluster plot make for an altogether unremarkable manga. This one has no distinct weaknesses, but I still don't recommend it.

Title: Three and a Half
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 6
Rating: 3 of 5
A series of one shots, this volume tells the story of a conservative man rooming with two sex fiends, an on-again/off-again couple, a man in love with a statue of a torso, and more. In any format, short story collections tend to be a mixed bag, and that's true here. Half of this collectiopn (3 1/2, Dessin, and Sasayaka na Yokubou) are decent—they're necessarily brief, but complex characters and twisted relationships make for interesting reading and hot sex scenes. The other half of the volume, however, is a little too unrealistic, a little over-the-top—and as a result, disappointing. One-shots like these can be quick, harmless diversions, and some of these are decent—but the collection on the whole is underwhelming.

Title: Haito Diamond (Ash to Diamond)
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 11
Rating: 4+ of 5
Otoji is searching for his missing brother, a search which brings him to the doorstep of Joe, a young male prostitute who captures Otoji's attentions and eventually joins him in his search. But their work and search ties them up in local gang activity which puts their lives in danger. Now this is more like it: when Sadahiro commits herself to a long, serious project, she excels. Haito Diamond is not without weakness: this is an old project (1995), and the art is somewhat dated; ranging from prostitution to incest, the plot and the sex it contains is sometimes overdramatic, though not distractingly so. But Otoji and Joe are so well-written and have such a complex and troubled relationship that their saga is absolutely captivating. Even when they're both idiots, it's impossible not to root for them and their struggle towards love. I was sad to reach the end of the series, and that's the mark of work well done. Highly recommended.

Title: Surf Junkie
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 5
Rating: 4 of 5
Ritsuro is an expert in surfing and sex but he's never fallen in love—until he falls head over heels for Shibuki, a straight man and a surfing novice. Surf Junkie is nothing special, nothing too memorable, but it's a solid and enjoyable read. It's a bit more down-to-earth than much of Sadahiro's work, and the little details—about the anxiety of a man's first gay relationship, about the difficulties of a relationship that spans seperate social circles—make the characters and relationships realistic and gently compelling. This story may not stick with me for long, but it made for perfectly enjoyable entertainment at the time, and so I recommend it.

Title: Neji no Kaiten (The Turn of the Screw)
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 6
Rating: 3 of 5
Disappointed in his affair with his college professor, Ryu kidnaps his lover's son and rapes him—but Hayato, the son, unexpected falls in love with Ryu. Yes, the premise is as stupid as it is repetitive (within the BL genre), but the relationship that results still makes for an interesting read. Again the plot tends towards soap opera-esque, but the characters are so troubled and conflicted that the style almost works. Such an enthusiastic love story is a bit out of place given the twisted premise and the dark, dramatic plot, but don't think about it too hard and Neji no Kaiten has some unique characterization and hot sex. It's not great, but this is a tolerably good read.

Title: Under Grand Hotel
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 23
Rating: 4 of 5
Sentenced to life in an American underground prison, Sen offers his body to Swordfish, the prison's most powerful inmate, in exchange for his safety. But the relationship between them develops into love which is constantly threatened by the dangerous environment of Under Ground Hotel. Under Ground/Grand Hotel tries to do a little too much with the plot, and the hasty machinations are unconvincing and sometimes confusing. But Sen and Swordfish are brilliant characters with a complex, compelling relationship. When plot interferes, the realism of their relationship suffers, but for the most part their twisted, complex, troubled romance is truly captivating. The characters are violent and cruel, many aspects of their relationship are hurtful and unhealthy, the sex scenes are often incredible—in all this is a dark but truly enjoyable manga, and I recommend it.

Title: Pathos
Mangaka: Sadahiro Mika
Chapters: 9
Rating: 4 of 5
Ace is a human teenager raised by a pair ageless vampires, Jay and King. Ace is in love with Jay and wants nothing more to become a vampire—and if he can wait until he's 18, both of his dreams may come true. Pathos has a lot going for it: Sadahiro's vampires are nothing special, but she nails vampiric intercourse—it's realistic, sexy, and decidedly non-human. The characters are decent, and the romance is actually quite good, balancing anticipation against sex so that there's plenty to satisfy the reader while still keeping him on his toes. The plot resolves too quickly—and a little strangely—and there's nothing outright wonderful about this work as a whole. But Pathos is a solid, enjoyable, slightly unusual manga, and I recommend it.

When I sat down to read more of Sadahiro's work I started with Buddy System and Angnus Dei, which were such disappointments after Mukizu ja Irarenne that I assumed that Sadahiro's older work was still developing (and therefore not as good) whereas her more recent volumes were more mature and better done. My love for Haito Diamond threw that theory out, of course. Now, I believe that Sadahiro has considerable talent, but her talent shines best in her longer, more serious works. Sadahiro's not shy about drawing porn—which is wonderful, don't get me wrong, but sometimes floods out necessary, realistic character and story. She tends towards overly dramatic plots, a potential drawback in all of her work but particularly detrimental in her short works, where all that drama leaves no room for realism. But when she is able to balance these aspects with realism, Sadahiro's work is astounding. In her love of porn and drama, she draws incredible sex scene and has all sorts of fascinating and delight dark, troubled characters and relationships. As an added bonus, most of her characters interchange uke and seme roles—a real scarcity in BL manga, sad to say.

Sadahiro strikes this balance most often in her longer, more complex, more serious efforts. In all my reading, Mukizu ja Irarenee remains my favorite—stripped of soap opera-ready settings, this story of three fairly normal youths is realistic, complex, twisted—and beautifully rendered. My other favorites are Haito Diamond, Under Grand Hotel, and Pathos, in that order. These series are somewhat more dramatic, but they retain Sadahiro's strengths and are intense, enjoyable reads. In all, Sadahiro's work was sometimes disappointing but more often harmless and, at best, truly wonderful. She was a great mangaka to discover.

Yeah, I'm a dork.

TS3: Boarders: Meet the new crew, and some humor.

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 02:23:18 GMT

So, for a change of pace: I'm switching over to an overstuffed (thank you, Awesomemod) house comprised of one landlady and her ten boarders.

The house is three stories. The first and second stories contain 12 bedrooms (10 occupied; sleeps up to 21; there are 2 cribs with room for more) and 6 bathrooms. There's an eat-in kitchen, a formal dining room, and four common rooms. The third floor is an attic which is part junk room and part activity room. The grounds contain a large front porch and a small back garden with vegetable patch. The house is fully furnished and decorated. I built it myself. It took forever and turned out wonderfully—which you all may never get to see because photoing it would be a ton of work.

More important than the house is, of course, those that live in it:

The new crew. (Bigger better.)
A: Michael Danomen
Neurotic and cowardly, Michael is a homebody, unmotivated and insecure. He's uncomfortable with his weight and hides behind bulky clothes, and he's shy and socially stunted—but underneath it all, he's a sweet, decent guy.

B: Rose Alma
Skylar's sister, Rose is immature, inappropriate, but endlessly creative. She has little care for the opinions of others and is often the odd one out, doodling on her bedroom walls and her brother's shoes, walking around in her underwear, and exhibiting a petrifying fear of standing water.

C: Hal Davidson
He's hiding behind Rose, so there's a a better view of him below. Hal is a friendly, funny guy and a genius with all things technological—but for some reason, life never goes quite right for him.

D: Eliza Meno
Eliza is a brilliant computer hacker but that's about all the brilliance she has: she's completely off her rocker. She eats dinner in her swimsuit and talks to herself, avoids strangers and the outdoors, and has awesome hair.

E: Sai Sadahiro
Sai's world revolves around books: she's an avid reader and is hard at work on her first novel, and won't rest until every word is perfect. Her dedication to her craft keeps her at a distance from—and grants her little patience with—her fellow boarders.

F: Annie Lennox
An emancipated minor, Annie is trying to look after herself while still attending high school. She's thoughtful and hardworking but she hides a short temper below her cheerful, pop culture-obsessed exterior.

G: Sarah Silverman
Manson's high school sweetheart, the two of them are dating and living together for the first time—but time and money constraints make life difficult. Sarah is a happy goth with a great sense of humor, and she's a budding artist—but her real dream is to start a family ... a dream which may surprise Manson.

H: Colette Siloden
Colette has been running a boarding house for a long time, but the place has never been this full before and now it's all that she can do to keep up. A little frigid and frugal but decent at heart, Colette is remains an enigma to her many boarders.

I: Matson Reed
You should remember her from Nika's household. Socially ambitious and not-so-secretly evil, Matson has her eyes set on quite a few men in Sunset Valley. She's outgoing, friendly, but more than willing to take advantage of others. Manson is her half-brother, and the two of them are close friends.

J: Manson Moore
You should remember him from Nika's household, too. Manson had a troubled childhood and though things have turned around for him now, he remains introverted and a bit cowardly. He's desperately in love with Sarah—a passion only exceeded by his lifetime affair with music. He's just beginning a career in the arts, and hopes to compose music some day.

K: Skylar Alma
Rose's brother, and the two of them share a room. They bicker as siblings will, but Rose and Skylar are the only two people who really understand each other. As odd as his sister, Skylar is holds the rest of the world at a distance; he's rude, irresponsible, and finds most people exceptionally dull—and bores them in turn.

So then, that's the new crew. This household will be more play, less story. With eleven folk in the house, I'm playing with a lot of autonomy for maximum amusement and to save my sanity—I wouldn't even want to try micromanaging that many sims. Concurrently, this first update comes with plenty of funny events which are pretty meaningless on the large scale. Ah, but they amuse me. So we begin:

And here's Hal, who can't hide forever. He usually wears glasses. And, you know: a shirt.

The boarders may all be renting their own rooms, but goodness knows there's no privacy here.

Speaking of Manson's sleeping habits, though:

When I threw everyone willy-nilly into the house, Sarah and Manson decided to share a bed.
I wasn't sure if they were rooming together or apart, but this night sealed it for me.

The household starts work on Deathtoilet as early as possible.
I love everyone in this house, though I of course have favorites—but perhaps the best part is returning to the lives of some of my previously played sims. In particular, Matson. Because no one else has exchanges wherein, over a very casual meal and some TV time wherein Matson and Michael have their first real conversation, talk non sequiters into:

Matson: Some day, I shall set this house alight.
Michael: Um. You're kidding, right?

Matson: Do I look like I'm kidding?
Michael: *Nervous laughter.* Not really, no.

Michael: On second thought, I believe that is a brilliant idea! That or you're very funny! Please don't kill me.
Matson: That's what I thought, pansy boy. Do you know who made this pasta? It's pretty good.

Not so secretly evil is our girl, these days.

Deathtoilet arrives! On, I think, day three?

You and me both, Michael. You and me both.

Thinking about death while chatting with your elderly landlady.
That's not creepy or anything.

So I had Matson invite Dominic over, that they could begin again where they left off last time I played her household...
And I'll be damned if this isn't heaven for Dominic, both as a flirt and an egoist.

Dominic's type: appears to be humanoid.
There's not much that he won't flirt with.

Age, gender, even heartbeat don't matter to him—I've seen him hit on ghosts.

Eventually Dominic did start barking up the right tree, and Matson invited him to spend the night...
But they were both tired and went straight to bed. Grrr.

But I have missed seeing this in the mornings.

Matson and Dominic never quite got it together—too many distractions in the house, I guess. For example:

I just thought this was sweet.
Matson would be horrible for Michael, for the record, but his ego can always use the boost of some harmless flirting.

When Dominic eventually remembered he was there to see Matson, she rejected his advances.
(Skylar was amused.) Why?

Dominic had rather overstayed his welcome—indeed, he spent two nights.
And nary once did he touch a shower. No, I really don't know what to tell you.

Dominic did eventually take his leave. I think Skylar speaks for me.
Oh well. Dominic and Matson will have another chance to hook up.

So speaking of Skylar: I am so enamored with him and Rose.
This moment (bigger better) is so epitomic of their relationship.
Skylar and Rose don't get along with many people save for each other, where they indulge in immature passions which no one else shares. Indeed, they reject meaningful connections to anyone but one another. Hal is adorable, I have a soft spot for Michael, Sai is so beautiful, Matson amuses me, and I'm looking forward to seeing what sort of kids Manson and Sarah make (because we all saw that coming)—but Rose and Skylar are my true favorites in this household so far. (The same night as this picture, they stayed at the park until dawn, just hanging out together.)

That's all for this time!

(Help me, I cannot stop listening to this album. Every time I think I can finally stop, Zydrate Anatomy comes on again and I end up keeping it on for another playthrough.)