It's Good to be Queen

//Some blog maintenance things that I’m going to try to do over the next few days.  With trying to get all of these guys back online, I need to do some cleaning.  So:

Get my drafts cleaned out.  I hoard drafts, basically.  I tend to draft things rather than queue them, so they just sort of build up and then I can’t find anything.  So I’m going to go through and tag and queue everything.

Weed out my thread tracker.  I’ve got so many threads I don’t remember the plot to or that haven’t been answered in months.  I also need to add newer threads to it.

Contact people I haven’t heard from in a while.  There are some threads I really love, but I haven’t gotten a reply to them in ages.

Go through and make lists of what all I’m keeping.

Reply to everything I’m keeping.

Post promos and starters.

//Hi guys.  So I realized that I have been basically absent from this blog for like a month now, despite my constant claims that I’m coming back.  So basically what’s happened is that I moved at the beginning of the summer, immediately left for fieldwork, had to come home early from fieldwork due to the financial burden of moving, my job fucked me over so I had financial issues during the end of the summer, then the school fucked me over so the last two weeks before I started back were trying to figure out how I was going to actually have the funds to stay enrolled.

All of that is solved at this point.  However, I have started the new semester.  I am currently losing my mind just slightly.  This is the semester that I am writing my thesis and applying to PhD programs, so it’s already hella stressful.  I am pretty sure I actually have an ulcer.  Like not exaggerating, I actually think based on the symptoms I have had and the things that have helped versus the things that have made it worse, that the stress of the summer and the start of the year may have given me an ulcer.  Also, my immune system (which sucks at it’s job to begin with) has basically taken one look at all of this and gone, “Nope, I’m out.”  So that’s where I’m at right now.  Sick, tired, stressed, and both excited and terrified for this semester.

And all of that comes back around to this blog.  This is precisely why I have the things listed on my about the mun page that I do.  I am placing this blog on a semi-hiatus.  Meaning I will come by and answer things when I can, but I won’t be around much.  If you want to find me, I will be active over on my Doctor Who blogs.  (The main blog for that set is just-kept-running.  All of them are also listed on Bucky’s nav page.)  I’ve been a bit selective with my replies there, but if people from here come over there and want to RP, I will probably be up for that.

“I can do that,” Charlie replied.  She hadn’t had much luck with the lock.  Then again, she was a hacker, not Houdini.  She could crack very nearly any security on the planet, so long as it was strictly digital.  But she never had learned to pick locks.  That was a skill she’d have to pick up.

She watched the barn door, trying not to twitch at every noise.  It seemed like their captors were pretty confident.  Of course, from what Charlie had been able to tell, they’d been doing this for generations.  So they were overconfident.

As soon as Gin had managed to pick the lock on her own cage, Charlie breathed  a sigh of relief.  “We’re gonna make it!”

scifisunshine:

“I’m Charlie,” Charlie replied without even really considering it. It was just sort of an automatic response. Which she felt she could be excused for in light of the roughly million and two questions she had. The first one that found voice, though, was, “We can eat?”

It sounded to her own ears like a stupid question. But she hadn’t really had a chance to learn much about this whole being dead thing yet. Undead. A reaper. Whatever was happening here. Her next question was, “What do you mean by ‘meat in a ziploc’? And what does peach cobbler have to do with being dead?”

Those questions would have to take a backseat, though, because she thought she heard somebody running. Two somebodies, to be more precise. And it had been roughly the right amount of time since she had called. At least, she thought it had. And while she was pretty sure she could convince Sam and Dean it was her, even if she didn’t look like herself, getting stabbed still didn’t sound like it would be a good way to start off this whole reaper thing. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure whether or not she could die again. Was it possible to kill a reaper?

With a tinge of nerves in her voice, Charlie asked, “Can we die? I mean, they can’t kill us if we’re dead, right?”

“Hi Charlie.” Of course, George knew her name. Well, most of her name. Enough that the only reason she hadn’t outright greeted the woman was simply a common courtesy. “We can very much eat, and enjoy all of the pleasures of the flesh. Waffles are the best post death meal, long-standing tradition to frequent the greasy wonderland of Waffle Houses.” Besides, she wanted waffles. That counted as well, didn’t it?

“What remains of an adult human after a flaming toilet seat from a de-orbiting space station can easily fit in a ziploc. I found that out the hard way, but it was certainly a memorable death. Before I had been officially assigned a meat suit, the Reaper in charge of myself and the others gave me a little talk. It actually helped, as weird as it was.” She kept glancing towards the door, she had heard far too much about the Winchester brothers and none of it led her to believe that they wouldn’t stab first.

“We can’t die, but it will hurt. You get used to it, but getting stabbed hurts regardless.”

“Oh...” Charlie replied.  She wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.  It took her a moment before she replied, “Waffle House sounds good.”

Unfortunately, Sam and Dean seemed to have beaten them to the punch.  The brothers both reached for their weapons the moment they spotted the two reapers.  Charlie immediately stopped short, raising her hands in the universal gesture of ‘no harm.’