Feb. 18th, 2007

alainn_aislinn: (I can't do this alone)
Corwin, Rose, did you see??? Someone took our idea from weeks ago and finally listened!! We inspired a whole movement with celebrities and everything!!!

And, okay, maybe this was my attempt to be not...inspiring for once, but to actually find something I believed in and to lead the charge, and to not be a muse for once, but just me. And maybe I feel like just a muse again, 'cause I didn't even get mentioned as the mover and shaker and idea-haver behind it all. No credit for the idea at all, but. I mean. That's what I'm used to. Poets very rarely give their muses credit, either. Nor do musicians, even when their muse is the mother of their child. It's just how it is, and I should be used to it after 200 years.

I guess, I just hoped that this would be different. And mine. Something I did, so when the Weevils were free, it would be because of the work I did, and everyone would know that. But, I guess, the people who know me, know that I was the first one to care, when no one else cared about the poor things at all. I was the first one to speak up in their defense. And maybe I've been drowned out by the celebrities and the acclaim that always goes to them for their humanitarian efforts. And maybe no one remembers the little muse who started it all.

But I started it, and if someone else is the one to finish it, then. Well. I guess that's what's best for the Weevils. And the Weevils are all I really cared about in this. Not my own glory, or my own fame. I'm very used to having other people take up and run with my ideas. It's what I do, as a muse, yeah?

But this is much better for the Weevils. Someone with more money and more resources can fight the good fight and I can concentrate on traveling, and being with the Doctor, and taking care of Byron. I'll have more time for them, now, and can know the Weevils are in good hands.

That's the important thing, right?

So, go celebrities and people. You have my blessings. Maybe Jack will still let me talk to one sometime, 'cause I don't think they've got any empaths looking to actually find out what's wrong with the poor things. But maybe no one will care anymore, once they're free.

I just want them to be happy.

I need to go take care of Byron. He's been horribly upset all night, and even I don't know what's wrong. I'll talk to you later.
alainn_aislinn: (Nibbling on finger)
You Have a Sanguine Temperament

You are an optimistic person who is easily content.
You enjoy casual, light tasks - never wanting to delve too deep into anything.
A bit fickle, it's easy for you to change plans or paths when presented with something better.

You enjoy all of the great things life has to offer - food, friends, and fun.
A great talker, you can keep the conversation going for hours.
You are optimistic and sure of your success. If you fail, you don't worry about it too much.

At your worst, you are vain. You are obsessed with your own attractiveness.
A horrible flirt, you tend to jump into love affairs and relationship drama easily.
You're very jealous - which just magnifies the craziness around you.

TM: Night

Feb. 18th, 2007 11:22 am
alainn_aislinn: (One dream (in the night))
I always met him in the darkness. He begged, sometimes, for me to come home with him, to watch the sunrise from the bed in his room, under the warmth of his homespun blankets, but I made it warm enough for us there in my glade.

The fires were doused that night, the night that I took him home with me. The wind flew about us, whipping my cape around me, around him where I held him close. The whole world, his and mine, lay in darkness until one flame was lit, high on Tara's hill. Midir handed Aurelia the torch, his cloak pulled over his face. They all did thus, the men, covering their heads as the god died, sinking back into the earth. It was Aurelia who relit the bonefire, her golden hair turning near red in its light, and Aurelia who held it high, Queen for the one night, the image of her father as she gave the yell that set forth the Hunt, flying through the Veil and across the land, fire trailing from the steeds to rekindle every hearth as the dead were swept away in front of them caught up in the ferocity of the Host's glee.

I did not ride that night, pulling him close to me, keeping him near. A mortal in Faerie was fair game in the eyes of my sisters that night. I would not have brought him, but he pled with me, and since I would not return to his home with the cold iron barring the way over the door and those colder eyes that pierced through me and called me demon as she clutched bony fingers at her worn cross, I thought it a decent compromise.

I trusted I could keep him safe, holding him close and taking him into me, locked in my room, away from the revelry. I pulled him in, body and soul, and he gave more than he ever had, leaving himself drained after, and me more alive than I thought possible. It quickened, it drove me, and on the night of the dead, there was life.

When that night circled 'round the Wheel again, I rode out with my kin, and when we swept through his village, his spirit cleaved to mine, crying to touch paradise again, and I took him home forever, though some part of him lingers here, in this world, in your world, in the eyes of his son.
alainn_aislinn: (A secret the whole world knows)
...Of course I do.

They call us ghosts sometimes, spirits that haunt the trees and waters, but we're not. Not spirit, but flesh through a Veil that might make us seem spirit sometimes. But there are ghosts. Human spirits torn free of their flesh and left trapped here for varying reasons.

They're everywhere, when you know how to look for them. Lost souls, souls that know exactly where they are but do not wish to move on, lives left incomplete that they struggle to complete from the other side.

They fixate on something usually, so very strongly that they can't be torn free and collected and hauled off to where they belong, because they do not belong here, make no mistake about that. They belong somewhere else.

We try, at home, to help them find their way, but their faith can fight us in so many ways, their lack of belief, or their belief in things that are not true until they make them so. We can take some by force, make them move on to Tir na Og, but others defy us, defy their own desire for something better and cling to what holds them here. You have to rip them free, and in the end, that can do more damage than even dying did, and that's an even larger aggravation than them hanging on is, and so we let them stay, allow them to mourn, and hope that one day they will come with us.

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alainn_aislinn

December 2007

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