The Knuckleduster Cowtown Creator by Forrest Harris (1999)
I'll give you three guesses which fandom I had started dabbling in when I saw this in a post by an online acquaintance and had to track down (luckily second-hand) for myself :)
Obviously, it was written for RPG enthusiasts to help them create their Old West towns: less for reading, more for reference. All manner of good stuff like the typical businesses in town, floor plans for buildings, goods available in all kinds of stores and suggested prices, typical character types and the jobs they might do, medical skills (and what doctors couldn't do), livery prices, stagecoaches and robberies, morse code and restaurant meals, fancy house euphemisms and gambling games, and of course lists of names (people, horse, stores, towns and so on)... not what an expert on the period might want but for someone who wanted to get their game right, it's wonderful.
And for a humble little fanfic writer who has a complete fascination for domestic detail and wants to get her stories to at least sound right... it's been a treasure :) to the point where I scanned what I found the most valuable bits of the town/character stuff and keep the scans on my hard drive so I can take the information with me wherever I might be scribbling...
Fandom: King Arthur: Legend of the Sword
Rating: MA; het/slash/threesome
Wordcount: 11,000 words
Warnings/Notes: For the 2017 iddyiddybangbang. Prompted by a reread through that ancient collection of iddy tropes, the Matter of Britain, and Hollywood's latest take on it, the very pretty and also quite iddy "King Arthur: Legend of the Sword." I borrowed Ioan Gruffudd's Lancelot from the 2004 movie, then stirred in bits and pieces from "The Romance of Arthur" for worldbuilding flavor. :)
Summary: In another world, what happened with Lancelot might have been the end rather than the beginning: a step toward the destruction of Camelot rather than a new-laid cornerstone. But to a fighter who'd lived most of his life as a nothing from nowhere, who'd wed for trust rather than romance, a companion for bed and battlefield was the best dowry Arthur could have asked for. [A Magic Made Them Do It story, with a twist.]
( Are You Falling For Me (Like I'm Falling For You)? ) (or read at AO3)
Fandom: Legend of Korra
Characters and Pairing: Lin; Opal; OFC
Summary: Nima confronts her mother in Zaofu.
Notes: "Old Wounds", the President Beifong AU version (sort of).
( 'I saw you talking to Mom earlier. Do I have to apologise again?' )
Here are my gifts from not_primetime and rarepairfest, and the remix written for one of my stories in circle_of_friends. All of them are well worth the read. :)
Exit Strategy (5111 words) by DesireeArmfeldt
Fandom: Person of Interest (TV)
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese
Characters: Harold Finch, John Reese, The Machine (Person of Interest)
Additional Tags: Gift Fic, POV Third Person Limited, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Canon, My First Work in This Fandom
Summary: Series finale fix-it fic.
The Art of Survival (3292 words) by OzQueen
Fandom: The Mummy Series, The Mummy (1999)
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Ardeth Bay/Rick O'Connell
Characters: Ardeth Bay, Rick O'Connell
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Huddling For Warmth, Skinny Dipping, Hand Jobs, Making Out, Blow Jobs, Facial Shaving, Bathing/Washing
Summary: "What is your plan of escape?" Ardeth asked. He had pulled his robes back on and was lounging by the fire, leaning back against his saddle. // "Steal your horse," Rick said. // "He will not obey just any man," Ardeth said dismissively. // "I'm not just any man, Medjai."
Dreadful Duty (the Second Impressions remix) (2884 words) by deird1
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Lydia Bennet/George Wickham
Characters: George Wickham
Additional Tags: Remix, Crossover
Summary: A history of George Wickham, Watcher.
However, not long after, a dancer twisted a foot mid-dance. He swapped out and tossed his stick to me and we finished the dance without missing a step. After the dance was over, I got out the emergency ice pack and a crepe bandage and applied both. By the afternoon (with the bandage re-applied) he was well enough to walk the procession, but sensible enough not to try stepping.
There are days when I'm very glad that I carry that kit around wherever we go.
(The item that I deliberately included in the kit, but hope never to have to use, is an eye pad. One has to be realistic about the risk of stick injuries when it comes to Border morris.)
Apart from having the right kit to treat the injury, the other big plus for me was that the dancer in question knew I could instantly replace him and we swapped without affecting the dance at all. I work hard to learn every position in every dance (which is not to say that I never make mistakes) and it means that I can fill in almost anywhere. Some dancers only ever learn a single position. They'll dance second in line on the left in dance A and in position 3 in dance B and so on.
I tend to visualise dances from an overhead viewpoint, so I see the overall pattern and that means I remember "First corners cross" rather than "I swap places with Henry". I've also been dancing for most of my life, so half the patterns are second nature anyway.
I find myself still drenched in Steely Dan, with many of the band's songs in my head when I wake up. This one especially; it's the one that makes me want to dance, and the one whose words least remind me of Becker's and Fagen's intermittently irritating schoolboy cynicism.
After feeling uncomfortably down by the end of Friday night, and after worrying about having to clean up the storage basement so early Saturday morning, I found that it worked out quite nicely. I rolled out of bed, staggered to the grocery to buy some bagels, orange and grapefruit juice for whatever laboring condo owners were going to turn up to help clean, and discovered a nice little group of them ready to go. That was a relief, since one of my worries had been that no one would show up (I was supposed to put out a pre-cleanup notice by email and forgot; that, too, made me feel down.) I did discover that yesterday was one of the days where I couldn't drink grapefruit juice, which was a shame, since I love the stuff, but by the end of the cleanup, I felt a lot better than I had going to bed Friday night.
My mood temporarily tanked when I came into the house and found that I'd forgotten to put the lid down on my work laptop; Phillip immediately got on it, and managed to turn on a function that I couldn't turn off, and which made working on the laptop progressively more difficult. I reached the point of screaming at the computer, because doing that prevented me from actually slamming the thing into the floor. I'm not kidding. When I get furious, physical action is something that often happens, and is often the stupidest thing I could do (i.e. tossing everything out of a dresser drawer when I can't find something I want, or physically hitting a piece of machinery that's acting up. It's a serious and dangerously immature habit of which I've never quite broken myself.) Hence the screaming, which damaged nothing except, possibly, my husband's sense of calm.
All hail, therefore, to owlboy , for answering my plaintive cry for help; he correctly ID'd my problem, and led to the brightening of my world. (And since my own laptop is still in the shop, this is even more important.) I told him he deserved a sonnet, but I didn't have the mental wherewithal to write him one. I may yet do it, although I'm not sure whether that's a threat or a promise ....
It's a wild and energetic animal and it led the Swanage procession and I suspect the young man inside was totally exhausted by the end. (I gather he had rope burns from all that energetic swinging)
Here's some footage of it from another occasion. It's the Sailor's Horse from Minehead -which may help to explain why it looks as much like a boat as a horse, but it definitely has a tail!
Calling all ships at sea, particularly those who know their way around a Mac.
I foolishly left the cover of my Mac open while I did some chores; BB came back to find Phil sitting on the keyboard (because cat). He shoo'ed him off, but the damage had been done; I now have a visual panel, or pane, up that I can't get rid of because I don't know what it's called, and I don't know which keys were depressed in what manner by the ^&%$@ cat to make this function start.
It appears to be a panel that tells me exactly what my cursor is doing and where it is. Unless I turn the sound off, I also get a mechanical voice saying the same thing that appears in the panel. And whatever I put my cursor on gets etched in black (that's in addition to the descriptive panel.)
It therefore appears to be something that would describe what the cursor is doing, while making that description easy to understand for either a visually or aurally impaired computer user. So you'd think there'd be something in the files under "accessibility" or "accessibility aids," but there isn't, or at least not that I can find out.
I've checked my Mac help files under "description pane" and "description panel," under "text pane (and panel)"; under "cursor," "cursor description pane" and a lot of other descriptors I can think of. Nothing leads me to any help subject that I can understand.
I made a screen capture of it, and will show it here, if I can actually get photo bucket or the Google image process to work. If anyone can help guide me to whatever I need to do to get rid of this thing, I'd be grateful.
Welp: I can't get the fucking image uploaded anywhere in order to embed it in this post, so I can't show you the thing that I'm looking at on the screen, which means that you really don't have anything with which to identify the stupid pane I'm dealing with. But it's making use of this computer - the only one I have to deal with, and my work computer, if you'll remember - almost impossible. It won't let me scroll properly, so it's incredibly hard to edit anything. Perhaps this information can help, though: As I'm typing this, the pane is actually showing each individual key I'm typing, including typing out the word "space" when I hit the space bar.
BB and I went to see "Spiderman: Homecoming" tonight. If you can get to see it, do so. It's the best superhero movie I've seen since, well, "The Avengers," and I loved all the other MCU movies, so that's saying a lot. It's funny — I haven't laughed out loud in a theater for quite some time — and smart, and has a villain who's both villainous and perfectly understandable, with a work ethic and a sense of responsibility to his staff and family. I found myself cheering him on in a couple of instances, a little to my surprise. Michael Keaton does villainy right. Tom Holland as a 15-year-old Peter Parker is so good that I can forget that he looks more like a 17-year-old kid. Sure, that's only two years' difference, but it's a difference. And that may be the only thing I can find to nitpick about.
I'm glad I went to the movie, but I'm still fighting the Black Dog. In my case, it's probably more of a Black Puppy, but he (or she, who can tell with these little demonettes?) keeps dashing out of the shadows and nipping at my emotional ankles. Fucking puppy.
So perhaps it's time to go to bed. I have another working weekend; helping clean out the condo storage basement, something I completely forgot until this morning, and then one of two separate union meetings, neither of which I want to go to, on Sunday morning.
Oh, I said that already.