lymanalpha: (teethbear)
I have a sieve for a memory, no lie, and so I usually write down snippets the minute I think of them.

Sometime last night I wrote this on my iPhone:

"A garrison that g crypts chekov writexabf v lee fall from his eyebadh".



Okay, I have actual Spock/SpockPrime to write.
lymanalpha: (cupcake!)
[ profile] anodyna has this [ profile] wrisomifu thing. I'm tempted but not yet convinced I'm a writer. Half the time I feel like a fraud, and the other half I spend distracted by pretty colors or bits of clay or SCIENCE.

But that's not really the problem either; the problem is finishing things. FiSoMiFu? I like it.

1. Write fiction for at least ten minutes every day. (Maybe I can do zat.)
2. Write nonfiction for at least ten minutes every day. (Certainly I can do zat.)
3. On Fridays, share a snippet of a WIP, even if it sucks. (But ZAT is frightening.)

1. Also finish necessary schoolwork.

In the interests of the "Fi", by the end of March, OTHER GOALS.
1. Finish srs-Cupcake fic. (Possible.)
2. Finish and photograph clay-IDIC pieces. (Probable.)
3. Write one of the things I want to write that I don't think people will read. (AAGH.)

May or may not work. My brain's a spazz, but deadlines help.
lymanalpha: (gorn kisses)
These are for [ profile] demonbloodadict and Team Tribble. (If you're not on Team Tribble and want one for some reason, ask a tribble first.)

THERE ARE MANY. I went a little overboard. They look like this, and the rest are below:

[ profile] demonbloodadict, if you want another color or combo or anything, just ask. :)
lymanalpha: (gorn kisses)
I spent the weekend in Washington, D.C. Reminded me often of an enlarged Boston, several times of London, and once, powerfully, of Helsinki.

Also, because I am a hapless fool, of Star Trek.

1. First thing I noticed when we came out of the Metro:

2. Ancient Chinese art creature. Looks just like Chekov!

3. And finally, a lovely specimen of malachite.

I got a well-deserved smack on the head for pointing to this and going "Spock!"

Crackship, what have you done to me?
lymanalpha: (sphere)
One of my classes this term is on presenting science to the public. Problem is, I'm a scientist, and most of my real-life friends are scientists, and I'm not always sure whether what I'm writing makes sense for non-scientists. So. Any of you want to read over a non-fic piece for me?

750 words: How To Find Life in Outer Space (Without Leaving Earth). Spock will almost certainly be mentioned (snerk). Looking for thoughts on content (is it interesting? does it make sense? anything confusing?), coherence (awkward transitions, logic not clear), and tone. I'll have a draft possibly tonight tomorrow; final thing's due on Friday Sunday.
lymanalpha: (Default)
Captain's Log, Stardate: 2010.48. Met new alien species. Slept with them.

Captain's Log, Stardate: 2010.49. Alien species left me. FML.

Captain's Log, Stardate: 2010.50. Alien species have returned! Tearful reunion. Kirk out.

lymanalpha: (ladyromulan)
Make icons, apparently. Because I was grumpy, and I hear iconmaking is a decent salve for a grumpy soul (it is).

Also because some of the characters I like best don't show up in icons very often. They have stories too.

Starring Cupcake, Scotty, Madeline, Kelvin-medic, Lady Romulan, Teethbear, Maybe-Chapel, Robau, and Vulcan-girl. Use as you will.

Almost a rainbow! )
lymanalpha: (sphere)
*Or binoculars.

I walked outside yesterday evening and looked up at the sky and HEY! Orion smacked me in the face.

Not literally. But. You know what's in the sky near Orion? The constellation Eridanus. And in Eridanus is an unassuming dwarf star called 40 Eridani - 40 Eri for short, sometimes Keid - and this star is, as far as I know, the best guess for Vulcan's sun.

I think this is IMPORTANT TO FANDOM, yes. I'm pretty sure you all NEED this information, even if you haven't realized it yet. So, here, with pictures: How to find Vulcan's sun in the sky using only your eyeballs - and how to see it with binoculars, if you live in a city.

Astronomer explosion! )
lymanalpha: (crackship cupcake)
I'm only going to say this the one time, and I hope not to annoy any of you, but: registration has been reopened at [ profile] st_respect's Ship Wars. If you or anyone you know would like to join Team Crackship, we'd love to have you.

How Ship Wars works )
Your pacifist concerns )
Team Crackship, and why I like it )
If you'd like to join... )

Registration is open until Thursday, February 11. Zank you for your time.
lymanalpha: (andorian)
So. The current Ship Wars prompt is porn. PORNZ. Which I cannot write to save my life (I tried, I did, and yeah that was weird and now I want Spock/Pike, but that's another story).

Then I started thinking about IDIC - Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations - which seems to me a) potentially porny, and b) a damn good philosophy.

And [ profile] melithiel said I should do strange alien porn.

The upshot of all this is that I'm in the middle of making strange alien porn out of clay. Eventually, I'd like to get some nice photographs of these clay things with IDIC somewhere on them. There's no purpose to this, other than my own amusement, but. BUT. Here's where you come in, dear friends: I'm stuck. I need, for lack of a better word, art-betas. I've been putting some of this on [ profile] team_crackship but figured I'd alternate here and there to avoid spamming.

These are works in progress. What I'm looking for, from you, is feedback both general & specific. General, as in, are they porny, do they work, is there anything off about them. Specific, as in, some of them have particular questions.

Blanket warning: this is PORN and therefore NSFW. It has clay people with BITS and also things that are STRANGE. But I hope it's, well, pretty, for porn.


IDIC #1: Tentacle Guy
Medium: water-based red clay, oil-based white clay
Status: closest to being finished. The clay's still wet and can be played with.

Tentacley )

IDIC #2: Andorian/MaybeRomulan
Medium: red & white water-based clay
Status: Mid-modeling. Having some issues.

Because I LIKE Andorians. )

IDIC #3: Flowerpants
Medium: white water-based clay
Status: Chillin.

She's called flowerpants because she she doesn't have..pants. )

IDIC #4: I don't even know.

Still brainstorming, mostly. )

So that's all I have. Any suggestions or ideas or comments are welcome.
lymanalpha: (lolpike!)
What happened: [ profile] st_respect had a lightning round. Ten short fics/arts per team, less than a day to get everything in, one point per entry. I woke up this morning, saw we only had two entries in, went AAAGH like Bones and started spewing tiny cracky things all over the place.

So here are five Very WERY cracky variations on the theme of "hangover". The sixth submission was the long Sad Vulcan Sarek/Spock thing.

(I just wanted to say WERY - I didn't actually manage to get Chekov in anywhere)

Blanket Disclaimer: Not. Mine.
Blanket Warning: Crack. Some of them are gross. All of them are goofy.

Pairing: Bones/Hypospray
Rating: R
Warnings: Crack.
Words: 213

AAGH, says Bones. )

Pairing: Jim/Jim/Jim/Jim/etc
Rating: PG-13?
Warnings: Crack.
Words: 240

Risa's not called a pleasure planet for nothing. )

Pairing: Jim/Gorn
Rating: R for language
Warnings: Crack.
Words: 192

Humans are intoxicating. )

Pairing: Unrequited Keenser/Pike
Rating: PG
Warnings: Crack.
Words: 345

A week before the Enterprise's relaunch and they've changed his coffee-bearer. )

Title: Aftertaste
Pairing: Pike/Brains (a short interlude, goes with zombie!Pike fic)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Crack.
Words: 132

Barnett's brains give him a headache. )
lymanalpha: (ladyromulan)
Title: Fruit and Water
Author: [ profile] lymanalpha
Pairing: Sarek/SpockPrime
Rating: R
Warnings: DID YOU READ THE PAIRING? Okay. Also: Sad Vulcans.
Disclaimer: I like them very much, but they are not the hell my whales.
Words: 893
Summary: For [ profile] st_respect's Ship Wars, on behalf of Team Crackship. Prompt: hangover. Not sure where this came from, but I suppose I'm going to hell for it, yeah? Maybe I have a thing for Sad Vulcans.

Only click if you're sure you want to read this. )
lymanalpha: (spock!)
Title: Stop! Logic Time
Author: [ profile] lymanalpha
Pairing: None. SpockPrime and Sarek.
Rating: G
Warnings: Ridiculous!
Disclaimer: I like them very much, but they are not the hell my whales.
Summary: [ profile] temporalranger has an icon with an asymptotic function and "CAN'T TOUCH THIS" on it. You know who likes math jokes? Spock.

Also I secretly <3 MC Hammer. )
lymanalpha: (lolpike!)
Title: Braintrust
Author: [ profile] lymanalpha
Pairing: Pike/Enterprise/Braaains
Rating: R for language
Warnings: Character undeath? Also just weird.
Disclaimer: I like them very much, but they are not the hell my whales.
Words: 1004
Notes: With thanks to [ profile] isalie964 for being awesome.
Summary: Entry for [ profile] st_respect's Ship Wars, on behalf of Team Crackship. The prompt was "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone", whose lyrics are here. I warn you once again, this story's a little bizarre. You give me a sad prompt, I give you zombies? Yeah, I don't know either.

As it turns out, zombies are for real. )
lymanalpha: (crackship cupcake)
Short commentfic based on this scene from the movie:

The fic is Saturn(planet)/Titan(moon)/Enterprise(ship). This is Team Crackship, dammit.

The gif belongs to [ profile] recumbentgoat.

Life's pretty quiet out here. )
lymanalpha: (scotty!)
Title: Engineering Parlance
Beta: [ profile] imasupermuteant
Pairing: Scotty/Starships
Rating: G
Warnings: sort of sad, for crack
Disclaimer: I like them very much, but they are not the hell my whales.
Wordcount: 994
Notes: For the prompt "Our First Date". Also known as HOLY CRAP I WROTE FICTION.

He saw his first starship when he was ten. )
lymanalpha: (crackship cupcake)
So here's the story: [ profile] st_respect is hosting a Ship Wars. I joined the illustrious and bizarre Team Crackship and suddenly became productive, which was unexpected but sort of awesome. I like having my stuff archived somewhere, so I'll be posting old Crackship stuff here once its round is over.

Strange arts first.

Possibly NSFW. Also image-heavy. And seriously WEIRD. )
lymanalpha: (sphere)
I'm at the telescopes this week, tucked in an observatory on an Arizona mountaintop.

I grew up in the Arizona desert. I grew up with clouds being objects of interest, rain a novelty, brown the default landscape, and I grew up hating it. But, dammit, it was mine. Now I live in Boston, where the rain smells only of wet dirt and pavement, and it's not right. Not home, not quite.

So I get why Spock's hanging around again. Maybe some things about the desert you just can't shake. It's not his desert, true, but it's something.

We walk to the telescopes at sunset, me and Spock. Mountain dust scuffs his Starfleet boots. But his stride is easy and he seems almost relaxed - better than either of us have been in weeks, because school's a damn pain, and being stuck in my head must be as well.

We're early, can't open the domes till the sun's gone clear behind the mountains, so we climb to the roof to watch it sink. Nothing like a desert sunset. Spock's holding something between his fingers with great care - it's a twig. A little branch with rounded duplex leaves, from one of the scrubby, tenacious shrubs lining the road, but it's my favorite of all the plants here.

I'm a little surprised he knows it, though. "I don't suppose you had creosote bushes on Vulcan?"

"We did not," he says.

Creosote is what makes my desert rain smell like, well, rain. It's a greenly resinous odor I'd know anywhere, branded so deep in my memory that I wake in Boston missing it. "Here," I tell him, and sprinkle a few drops of water on a leaf.

He brings it to his face with his curious delicacy and sniffs gently at it. I see the corner of his mouth shade almost into delight before he hides his face - maybe our deserts are more alike than I'd thought. "It has," he says "quite a pleasant aroma."

I leave Spock on the roof, with his pungent leaves and the emerging stars. Come nightfall I'll be lost in a world of spectra, stellar and galactic, and also buried in homework, because school doesn't quit being hell just because I'm cross-country. But the stars here are without compare, and the rain, if it falls, will smell of creosote. Spock's almost smiling, and that'll have to do.

Just his head and he's wearing a shirt. )
lymanalpha: (Default)
I bait this trap carefully. Everything is laid out to perfection, just so: cake, frosting, sprinkles. Paints, brushes, water.

He appears in my head, in my apartment, and says "OH HELL NO." Turns and glares at me, all height and bulk and in-your-face pissed-off-ness. "No. He -" and he stabs a finger vaguely bridgewards - "he promised. No cake. None. I will airlock that little-"

"Dude," I say, "that's my lunch. Mine." He's still glaring. It makes him look constipated. "Glaring makes you look - "

"Shut up." But he relaxes a little, enough to strip and pose with the strategically-placed phaser. There's a tattoo on his shoulder, old school sailor-style, but simple. An anchor, and the letters NCC-1701. He's quieter now. "This is my ship," he says. "You think I'm just here to frog-march stowaways and die on away missions. But this is my ship, this is my crew, Kirk is my goddamn captain and I'll die for him if he needs me to, cake or no."

I paint. We're happy. But the air has the scent, ever so slight, of frosting and sprinkles and I can tell it's getting to him. He's no Vulcan; he fidgets. He casts sidelong glances. And finally, FINALLY, when he thinks I'm not looking, he reaches out a nonchalant hand and swipes a finger at my so-called lunch.

Hah! You're in my head, dude. I'm always looking. And there he is, caught: Cupcake and the cupcake, licking pink frosting off his finger with an expression close to bliss. Gotcha.


Click for pics. Nudity: one bare butt. )


lymanalpha: (Default)

August 2010

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