Ivarius Faldine
07 March 2010 @ 03:32 pm
I've been trying to watch Remus play the Sims 2. It looks like a fun game; my Sim decided to kiss August's Sim without August or Remus telling him to. He then spent most of the night cuddling out on the lawn with August's Sim watching the stars. August took him along for one of the Asian-themed vacations and he got struck by lightning while using one of the hot springs. I couldn't see the result, but I could imagine it well enough. Remus told me my Sim was blackened and looked as though he'd taken a roll in a soot heap. Help me include a picture Remus?

A screencap. )

Sadly I think my shoulder-leaning and attempts to see the game by partially fronting have given Remus his headache. :(
 
 
Music: El Diablo by Arcadia
Mood: curious
 
 
Ivarius Faldine
22 January 2010 @ 08:54 pm
I'm having a very difficult time putting my thoughts to words here at the front. Forgive me? I'll do my best to work through this.
 
 
Ivarius Faldine
09 January 2007 @ 12:29 pm
Dancing has taken over my life. I feel like I'm taking soft steps through the morning without ever brushing to a barre. The scent of coffee wafts out from the kitchen and caffeine gives me my frappé work for the day. Sunlight runs in through the windows, shafts of brightness in the opaque. I can't see, and I never needed sight to feel.

August has no routine he follows. I do my best to avoid him in the morning, lest I inadvertently upset him with my presence. He is not the most agreeable person prior to having coffee. That too changes. I never can truly predict him, same as I fail to foresee what the day will bring. Obstacles find me, or others, and I step silently for fear of upsetting them with unnecessary sound. Too often I think my presence is not a welcome thing here.

My presence is a complication. I walk on ropes not for fear of falling, no. What I fear is more than that. I fear that I'll tip a balance and ruin something beautiful. I feel that if I do not step carefully, do not watch what I say with utmost care, I'll break something that has no right to be broken.

Not by me.

Not now.
 
 
Mood: anxious
 
 
Ivarius Faldine
21 December 2006 @ 04:04 pm
Yesterday I smelled cloves and trust me, it's not a smell a person expects to pick out during the course of a school day. Cloves are a distinctive smell, like cinnamon and hard to miss. Curiosity between myself and August resulted in following the smell all the way to the LC to see what was happening.

The story behind the smell was this: two students had irritated Mrs. Crawford with their chattering, leaving her no choice but to give them oranges, pointy sticks, and clove buds.

The punishment was to make these! )
 
 
Mood: amused
 
 
Ivarius Faldine
13 December 2006 @ 12:09 pm
I may add [profile] rhymer_713 out of curiosity. I'm interested to know what it's like to live with blindness in this world. I was not blind in the time before I was here, not until the very end. Lexi is not blind herself, which means I'm able to see when I'm close to the front. That's how I read, unless Remus is reading to us. I do prefer when Remus reads.

The only time I am truly blind is when I am away from the front. It is not always a deep impenetrable gray, I've had it lighten to seeing in grey-scale. The grey-scale never lasts for very long; I'm often plunged back to impenetrable shadow. My other senses are strong to balance my lack of vision. I can hear and smell acutely, and if I am careful I rarely bump people or other objects.

And I have my memories. I dream often of places I lived in, the sun and surrounding landscape. My inability to see does not sadden me all that much. It makes me nervous when I'm in unfamiliar places and require a walking stick and someone to direct me, but rarely at any other time.

When Misha was young his family went to their dacha every summer, and he and his father would take the nets down from the attic and try to catch the migrating butterflies that filled the air. The old house was filled with his grandmother's china that really came from China, and the framed butterflies three generations of Shklovskys had caught as boys. Over time their scales fell away, and if you ran barefoot through the house the china would rattle and your feet would pick up wing dust.
-The History of Love, by Nicole Krauss
 
 
Mood: thoughtful