Foxes and Dragons

WooHoo! Tampons for geek dykes! Too bad they wouldn't come with the kick ass armor

The Fire Inside
Sidle/Curtis
Disclaimer: *sigh* you know that if I owned these characters that you’d be seeing this on film right? Right. They are owned by a lot of other people but they aren’t mine.
Spoilers: Parallel universe after “Living Doll” 7x24 but no specific details/spoilers
Rating: MA – NC-17 for femslash and smutty smut smut :p. WARNING: There is some plot though ☺
Archive: Just ask :)

It was a grizzly case, but after what Sara’s been through, maybe she needs to let herself feel alive…

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I was just reading more on alternative energy. Wind and solar look the most promising with the least unintentional side effects, but they'd have to be supplemented...

But it got me thinking. With all of this frontal lobe in our brains that supposedly differentiates us from animals and leads to consciousness, we can't seem to get out of the mindset of burning stuff. One of the first technological advances our species made, being able to start a fire for personal use, and yet thousands of years later we are still burning stuff.

We use glorified campfires to fuel our personal vehicles and to power our lights. And we don't just burn anything, but stuff we dig out of the ground that took longer than we have been sentient for the earth to make. When engineers built coal burning power plants 100 years ago they would never have conceived that we'd still be using them today because it is more 'cost efficient' than coming up with new, cleaner, energy efficient ideas.

We then use that power to make things that we later throw away and wait for it....burn. Actually landfills are more utilized than incinerators, but you get my point.

I don't see why we don't just give all the dogs matches and absolve ourselves from existing on this planet at all.

The collapse of I-35W has effected many of us in the Minneapolis community in different ways. We mourn for the loss of life and we feel the difference without this bridge. The city is quieter now for those of us under the bridge and behind the police tape.

8-2-07
I-35 Fallen Silence


The voice of the freeway has been silenced. Four hours after the collapse of I-35 into the Mississippi river I am on my bike, commuting to work, trying to find an alternate route like everyone else…even though I am rarely on that bridge crossing the river. Like so many other bikes, I am used to going under it.

Watching the news earlier, the aerial shots didn’t reflect my reality of this bridge lying across my own freeway, the bike freeway that is West River Parkway. This change in perspectives makes it difficult at first to visualize its location. Looking at it from above, and the distance of the helicopter like this, makes it seems like it happened in some other city, to some other people. But it happened here, to us.

On my way home in the morning, 13 hours after the bridge came to the earth and water, I take the West River Parkway as far as I can. To the boardwalk, which has been barricaded, near the Stone Arch Bridge. A block up, the new, blue Gutherie stands with its unsupported lookout protruding toward the river and the fallen bridge, which is a further few blocks away, like an architectural accusatory finger. As if to say “If I can fly, why couldn’t you?”

I go up and around the Gutherie to Gold Medal Park. It’s a new park, reclaimed green space, the grass so thick and lush my shoe sinks in the turf past the sole. Centered in the park is a hill. The walkway to the top spirals around the rise. I ascend with the others, meeting the sad eyes of the people coming back down. Like pilgrims we are hushed, reverent, meditative. The bridge we took for granted yesterday, the noise of cars hissing and rumbling, the jackhammers, and some people... all gone. I step up with the rest to stand on the bench and shield my eyes from the rising sun. The trees and river bluff block the middle, but you can see both ends from this point, leaning at angles a bridge never should. Even though the concrete dust has settled, I feel the thickness of the silence settle over me.

I step down allowing someone else a turn.

On my bike I am much more open to sound than people in cars. As I curve back down the path and away from the tor, I hear bits of conversation.
“If I hadn’t gone back into my house for my sunglasses…”
“I just crossed that bridge minutes before…”
“I’m so glad I didn’t go home on time…”
All followed by the unspoken “…I would have been there, I would have fallen. I could be dead.”

Fallen with the bridge.

This perception of the bridge, much like the aerial shots, is distant from my reality of this place, and makes it hard to locate their perspective.

If I had been there, I would not have fallen. I would have been on the bike path below, not fallen, but dropped upon. Would a person on the bicycle path of the River Road have been able to get out from under it fast enough? Gliding down the hill maybe, but laboring up it? Maybe not. Would I have heard the crack and rumbling from above as a warning and not just more road or construction noise? Would I have been looking up at the web tangle of green steel supports we took for granted were strong and seen them buckle toward me? Would my bike helmet have protected me from falling concrete and rebar?

Going back to work, 28 hours after the collapse. I cross the river on Plymouth and look up at the moon as it hangs in the sky, next to the glow downriver of the work lights, making day from night, as the recovery effort continues. The silence of the fallen still conspicuous in my ears, the freeway has died, and taken with it people we will hold in our hearts.

The fallen speak in silence tonight.


Written by: Fox

Pairing: Abby/Ziva
Title: “Going Down” (yes it’s cheesy, but it takes place in an elevator, what am I supposed to call it? ;)
Spoilers: None really, this happens somewhere in season 3
Archive: Just ask
Author: Fox
Disclaimer: Of course I don’t own them, I just like to fiddle with them. Some people play with dolls… I don’t claim to speak through any official channels for the show, production company, or actors and there is no profit being made.
Rating: MA - NC-17. Yes it’s smut, there is a little substance - but mostly smut, femsmut to be specific. Don’t like it, don’t read it
Author’s note: Honest critique welcome, but please be gentle, I’m new.

“What is your problem?” Ziva asks me.
She is in my space again. All of that “Moussad” (Whoop de doo) training… she surely has to know that being in close proximity to her drives me nuts.

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Here is a video of a troupe I perform with. I'll leave it up to ur imagination which is me ;)
Why do we do it? Because we can.

So, I'm standing and waiting to speak to an acquaintance. Another man walks by who knows him. My acquaintance thanks the other for lending him a book about the bible. ( Read more... )

Yeah, I geeked out and made a GSR fan vid. These two are the next best thing to femslash so..and yeah, I used Melissa Etheridge..