Feb. 1st, 2007

alainn_aislinn: (Make me feel like I can fly)
Your Love Type: ENFP

The Inspirer

In love, you are passionate and eager to develop a strong bond.
For you, sex should be playful, creative, and affectionate.

Overall, you are perceptive and bring out the best in your partner.
However, you tend to hold on to bad relationships after they've turned bad.

Best matches: INTJ and INFJ

...I suppose that's accurate?
alainn_aislinn: (lost)
In hindsight, perhaps leaving Faerie was not my wisest move ever, but I was sixteen and I didn't know any better. We're much like you in that way, always thinking we know better than our elders, and if you knew my elders, you would understand that a great deal more. Having not achieved her aims of gaining a throne through either me or my sister, my mother pretty much left us to figure things out for ourselves. She would toss out comments on occasion about this or that bit of our craft. Tell us never fall in love...

...Have you see the Cinderella movie with Bernadette Peters? She was a lot like the stepmother in that one, only not as funny as Bernadette Peters.

That's neither here nor there, though. Eventually, my father, who loves to walk your world, remembered I existed and pulled me aside to give me a few tips about how to function between your world and ours. How to choose an artist, how to reach inside them and pull out what they needed as much as what I needed, how to let my natural gifts shine through to touch them, make them great, and how to always, always, go home after. He made the mistake of staying with Shakespeare and knew from experience the heartwrenching pain of the loss of one so dearly loved.

Don't love them too much, he told me. Just enough. Enough to touch them, to reach them, but no more. Keep your roots in your home, and you'll always have somewhere to ground yourself, and their loss will not wreck you so much.

I didn't listen. Perhaps I would have had he found me a few years before, but I had already broken all but the final rule. I found my guiding star. We connected. I couldn't bear to not watch over him, couldn't stand to just brush against him now and again, to reach out on occasion with a brush of inspiration. He shone so brightly, so thoroughly, that he encompassed everything.

I left it all behind. I walked away, and I never truly looked back, only visiting occasionally, and always aching to return to him. I took no other artists as mine. I didn't diversify my portfolio, as it were. He was my everything, my world, my lifeline, and when he died, I might as well have gone with him for all the joy that was left in the world.

I tried to get it back. I found a musician. I had a child. I tried, but in the end, none of it mattered.

Crazy as it sounds, I think, perhaps, I should have listened to my parents.

ooc: Written from her book canon, not RP world, obviously. :)
alainn_aislinn: (Inner strength)
I've always admired people who stand up for things. People like...like the nice man with the dream, and the nun who didn't get all preachy at people even if she did worship the Martyr, and the girl in the book who thought the House Elves should be freed. Or, Oh! The lady who said women should get to vote, too, and got her head put on a gold dollar. Not her actual head, of course.

I think it's good to fight the good fight and all that. To...help the helpless! Right, so that was the Watcher's thing, and he sort of was annoying what with breaking my Byron's heart, but that's neither here nor there. Trying to save the world is good, and that's what I mean. Even if you are exceptionally annoying on a personal level and attempt to run around and sleep with other people's boyfriends or won't let your husband go have a bit of fun on a Saturday night, your attempts to save the world are still highly appreciated.

But, really, the girl with the House Elves is far more apropos right now, because these very people who are trying to save the world (like the good wizards in that book) are running about perpetuating a virtual class system that strips non-humans of their very basic rights. Imagine, if you will, beings from another world pulled into ours, frightened and confused, through some rift in time and space that, oh, maybe we had something to do with causing, and by we I mean we as Earthlings, not we as fairies. These beings come here and they're afraid. They're alone. They mostly keep to themselves and they make their homes deep underground and don't bother anyone. Then something happens and they get more scared, because you know they have to already be scared having been just shoved into our world by either some scientific or mystical force. Wouldn't you be? If you ended up in a world that didn't make sense, far way from your home, your family, your language and food and even the sky above was different and you had no way to communicate with anyone and no one to help you get home, wouldn't you be terrified? And yet, you are peaceful. You try to survive. You form families with the others who have been sucked through to this world. You try hard to make a new home.

But then something happens. Something upsets you. Something terrifies you. And it makes sense that it is something in this new, strange world. You're hungry. Your children are starving, maybe. Or maybe some dark force is preying on you. I don't know, but it precipitates a change and you lash out in your terror. Your anger. Your confusion. You lash out and you try to make your distress known. And what happens? Some of these strange creatures that populate this world come and grab you. They put you in an enclosed metal object and then they hustle you off to some dark and dank cell, away from your family. Away from your people. Your home. They don't ask you why you did what you did. They don't ask you if you understand it was wrong. They don't ask you if it was some form of misplaced self-defense. They don't ask you anything. They assume you are incapable of reasoning and little better than a dumb animal and since we know what they do to animals with the slaughtering and the butchering and the locking them in cages to put on display for their grubby children with ice cream running down their faces, they decide they can do the same to you and they then feel that it's all right, because they aren't actually killing you. Probably because they don't know if you'd taste good, because for all other intents and purposes, they treat you like nothing.

And these are the people who are supposed to be the good guys. But how can they claim they are when they don't even try to help the Weevils. The Weevils deserve to be treated with some sort of dignity. They are clearly sentient beings with a complex emotional life and empathic connection to others of their species. Just because you can't understand them, doesn't mean they can't be understood.

So, please. I am calling to your better natures to do something. Prove you are better than those that came before you, better than Daleks who just want to kill everything and better than Cyberman who don't like anything that's not like them. Help them. Ask for help in understanding them. Try to understand the rift, try to find a way to get them home. And at least do something about whatever is hurting them, making them into killers. I understand you need to protect innocent people from being slaughtered. I do. But just like you were wrong about fairies, maybe you're wrong about Weevils, too, and someone has to stand up for them, just like all those other people have stood up for other oppressed populations.

Be someone we can admire. Do the right thing. And if you don't have any authority to act in this matter because you aren't Captain Jack Harkness, then I'm asking you to join with me to work on convincing Jack those that do have the power to do the right thing. Someone has to. Someone has to give a voice to these poor creatures who cannot express themselves in any other way you can understand.

Thank you.


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December 2007

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