broadsword_babe: (Miranda (smile))
Y'gotta hand it to m'mun. Sometime th'lass really comes through. So, when I said I rather liked the layout for [ profile] celticmuses she got right on it designing a new header and working on th'code. Next thing I know it's half-midnight and she's still at it trying to get one last bit of something fixed. Not t'mention it turned out bloody brill!
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (laughing))
From this post @ [ profile] ask_me_anything

If you could get the DNA of anyone in history (alive or dead) to clone, who would you make your sex toy?

Comment Made of So Much Win:
Helen of Troy. She's an important part of history, despite being fictional.

Failing that, Queen Boadicea, although the sex toy status would probably be the other way around.

Quinn: *after laughing so hard her sides hurt* First, it's "Boudica." As for the sex toy, you're prolly right! But you'll haveta ask Adam if he'll share.
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (jeans))
The endless hot tub had finally been delivered and set up. It had taken a day or two for the water to warm up properly as well as give all the chemicals a chance to filter through the system, and now it was time to give it a test run. Sure it was frigid outside, but once I got in the tub, it wouldn't be nearly so bad. Wasn't like I could catch a chill anyway.

I set the biggest, fluffiest towel I could find on the table I'd put next to the tub and climbed in. The water was perfect: just short of painfully scalding. I flipped on the jets for the endless pool side of it and turned up the speed to a good clip. The steaming water pushed against me, challenging me, as I swam freestyle, concentrating on my stroke and pace. I quickly fell into a stroke-two-three-breathe pattern and my mind began to wander.

I remembered the Roman affinity for baths, in particular, their occupation of a town they called Aquæ Sulis. I knew the Romans considered baths and bathing to be a social event. I'd heard it said once that if the Colosseum was the heart of Rome, the baths were its soul.

If only Romans had discovered and implemented electricity, there would've been a hot tub in every home, I mused silently.

But I knew that necessity was indeed the mother of invention. The Romans had no need to have a bath in every home, and probably didn't want to give up their "social hour." Still, there was definitely something to be said for this endless pool/hot tub combination.

It was nearly an hour and a good half-dozen miles later when I finally decided to stop swimming. I could definitely tell that I'd gotten a better workout than I realized. I turned down the jets to the pool and cranked up the ones to the spa before planting myself in one of the seats.

The jets hit my back in all the right places. Although the pounding water couldn't take the place of a skilled massage therapist, it was a damn near thing. I sighed, contented and relaxed for the first time since leaving Colorado.
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (Boudica/Guinevere displeased))
I think it's time you and I had a chat. I'd like to start by saying that keeping me on a short least isn't going to do either of us any favors. There is a war brewing, and I know a thing or two about wars. I know it isn't easy trying to put what I've shown you into words: the stench of death, the roar of over two hundred thousand voices, the buzzing of flies over corpses. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you're my writer, but for the love of Freyja, write what I'm telling you! Stop watering it down and stop holding me back. Truth to tell, you're only holding yourself back. Oh, and I do wish you'd stop getting distracted when I'm trying to talk to you.

Right, now, the workout piece turned out fine, but you really need to work on your "angst" vocabulary. Meg, and others, may be able to give you a post right off, and that's fine for them. I would prefer if you held off awhile on mine. Quite often, I find that I require revisions. I know that many of the other muns, and some muses, have probably never been on a battlefield, but I do like the line "cacophony of death" you wrote for another OC muse.

You do have a great way with words, but you need to choose them carefully and wisely. But more importantly is, quit worrying about what other people think, and trust me. I'm not a ruthless murderer who pillages and plunders every chance they get. I protect me and my own. A mother grizzly has nothing on me, and you'd do well to remember that and stop tempering my ideas by watering them down.


6 Jan 2008 04:20 pm
broadsword_babe: (Miranda (sword))
{OOC: I know some community somewhere has posted a "fury" prompt, I'm just too lazy to look it up.}

October, 60CE
Near present-day Norfolk
Alias: Boudica

I stormed into the tent where my generals and council had gathered. The wounds to my back still oozed blood and the warm liquid trickled down between my buttocks. They (five generals, two advisors and a Druid) looked up from the war table around which they all stood. Braziers of flame illuminated their curious glances.

“My lady,” Chief Councilor Aedan greeted me.

I ignored him and the glances of the others. Instead, I stripped bare to the skin so all could witness the results of the flogging I had received at Roman hands. They fell silent as the welts and gashes were revealed. I slammed my hand on the war table, feeling the wood shudder beneath my wrath.

“I will have vengeance!” I shouted. “Not for myself, but for my daughters.”

“Your daughters?” the Druid asked, confused.

“Yes, Irial,” I hissed. “Both were raped. By Romans.”

Scowls formed at my blunt words. Each began to murmur to the others in angered tones. This was worse, oh so much worse, than the Romans taxing our people to build their temples on our holiest of grounds.

“Someone needs to be made an example,” I seethed. “I don’t care who, or how, but they will pay for this. I will have my vengeance, or I will die trying. Rome needs to learn that they cannot simply deflower my daughters without retribution. I want Nero himself to remember my name, and my fury. And I want every last putrid Roman to leave these lands and return to Gaul with terror in their hearts. Now go!

Each bowed their heads and murmured a “yes, my lady,” before leaving the tent until only the Druid remained. I shook my head, feeling my coppery locks sticking to the blood of my back. I did not want to know what the gods had in store for one hapless Roman whose only crime was his chosen occupation.

Quinnleigh Kincaid
Highlander OC
316 words

Mun note: This does not reflect on any other character(s). As far as she knows, the Roman could've been strung up by his balls to rot drawn & quartered.


30 Nov 2007 06:39 pm
broadsword_babe: (braid)
Alright, folks, I've been thinking about having a bit of a Yuletide get-together. Nothing big, just a few close mates, a nice, traditional dinner and singing songs 'round the fire. It'll be Saturday, December 22, so if you think you'd like to show up, just RSVP comment. Small pressies will be given, but you don't haveta bring any if you don't want to. I'll be puttin' up a post later on this weekend letting everyone know what to expect.

Wes, Aidan, Gavin & Murph, consider yourselves already invited *grins*

IC Stuff

29 Nov 2007 05:14 pm
broadsword_babe: (Default)
Right, well, after having a talk with my mun, she and I decided the "you will not win" header had to go. I realize that probably gave folks the wrong idea about me. I'm really not that angsty cranky. So, she put her graphics skills to use and came up with the new one. I rather like the "sometimes the past is all we have" quote. That really sums me up as an archaeologist and history buff.

Something else we talked about was the cottage. Yeh, it's nice and all, but she's right. With Brutæ, it really is a bit cramped. So, I'm letting the lease go on the cottage and gone for the bigger place. I'll turn at least two bedrooms into a proper office/study/library and another into a training room. The kitchen's a bit nicer as well. The window looks out across the street and over the water. I'm still on Orkney, and the door's still open for anyone who wants t'stop by!

Céade mile fáilte!
broadsword_babe: (uma)
My mun seriously needs to stop looking through mail-order catalogs, but I have to admit this was really funny!

And I wouldn't mind having this to go in my cottage.
broadsword_babe: (b/w smile)
Hey, Wes, found the perfect Christmas present for you! Oh, yeah, you might want one of these, too!
broadsword_babe: (b/w smile)
broadsword_babe: How's things?

Meh, y'know. Same stuff different day.

broadsword_babe: Well, I jes stopped by t'say thanks.

takemeasi_am: o_O For?

broadsword_babe: Fer bein' s'quick abou' findin' me a guy.

takemeasi_am: Someone finally strike your fancy? Gawd knows it took forever to find a "Michael" for you.

broadsword_babe: Yeh, Gavin ([profile] im_gavin_elliot) Oh, and sorry abou' th'whole idea kinda fizzlin' since tha  Lancelot idea dinna work ou'.

takemeasi_am: That's fine with me. 3,000 less words I have to write.

takemeasi_am: So, you like Gavin then?

broadsword_babe: Considerin' I hardly know th'man, yeh. He's a great one fer flirtin'. Even tol' 'im 'e's welcome t'visit m'cottage.

takemeasi_am: o_O Isn't that moving a bit fast?

broadsword_babe: Yeh, well, LJ months & all.

takemeasi_am: What's that?

broadsword_babe: Kinda dog years. Things move quickly in LJ-land.

takemeasi_am: If you say so... Guess we should start looking at cottages then.

broadsword_babe: Migh' help. Oh, an' see if y'can fin' one on holy groun'. Really don' need, er, uninvited guests, let's say.

takemeasi_am: I'll see what I can do. Can't make any promises, though.

broadsword_babe: Fair 'nuff.


broadsword_babe: (Default)

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