Author has written 8 stories for Animorphs, Secret Circle series, Discworld, D N Angel, Fruits Basket, Harry Potter, and Naruto.
Attention all readers of 'Dogstar Returns'! I have a few chapters written out in note form, and the whole series written out in even more scattered note form, but my muse has left- I'm finally interested in what I'm being taught, and so my mind doesn't wander into 'inspired by boredom' nearly as much. I have plans for the 'fic, but I can't make the words look right on the page. Sorry, and maybe one day I'll pick it up...
Hello all readers that are interested in well- ordered learning, or, failing that, interestingly dark humour. Or powerful emotions. They're good too.
My name is A. Blatchford. I am studying veterinary medicine, and loving every minute of it. I realise this makes Kathleen in 'dogstar returns' self projection, but in my defence when I started the 'fic I was still in school, and it was just an unrealistic dream that I couldn't get rid of.
My hobbies are reading, learning, figure skating, skiing and drawing little scribbles on every surface I come into contact with- It's an obsession! And handling animals. Any animals. Except babies. Foul creatures.
My pairings politics in fics go like this- gender doesn't matter. Only power matters. (In real life, I'm asexual, so a 'fic has to be pretty potent to grab me).
I have two cats. One of them I worship, called Belle. She stands on my lap when I sit and my shoulders when I stand. One of them I maintain respectful distance from, except when grooming her. She is called Silky. She sits in a corner, blinking and shedding hair. And eating cardboard boxes.
I tend to expect that people will have negative reactions when meeting me, and so I'm nervous when making new aquaintances. This leads me to wear a constant wide smile to disguise my nerves that makes older people like me and people my own age slightly leery. Although that seems to be fading now- I'm regaining the habit of smiling when I'm happy, and learned the art of keeping a straight face over the summer, so sometimes my smile means I'm happy and sometimes, I'm nervous. And sometimes my straight face means I'm relaxed, and sometimes I'm worried. So my expressions aren't an inversion any more, merely horrendously unreliable.
I live in the west end of Glasgow in Scotland, where violent madmen are run of the mill and, might even be your best friends not-so-secret identity. I have five friends. A massive fan of Fruits Basket who is quite similar to me in temperament, only more violent and obsessed with knives (dishrag-chan), a cute little pixie with a demon inside (Evil pixie of your sweet dream), a practical climber with an EdEnvy fetish (evil pixies are yummy), a disturbingly serious young woman with aspirations of world domination (lady perl of moonlight sea), and a rabidly cheery reader of all books(squibakou), who seems innocent at first, 'til you get to know her. On an additional notice, I have a joint account with N. James and Squibakou. We call ourselves the 'crazyrandompeoplethatstalkyou'. Be warned. We really are that bad.
Quotes (You might want to skip reading this part. Then again, you might not. I warn you, it goes on for a while.)
If you do that again, I shall insert my hand down your throat, remove your bladder and use it as a shower cap.(Squibakou's dad)
I am ever so slightly completely obsessed ( dishrag-chan)
SEBASTIAN Are all the people mad?!
ARIEL Your charm so strongly works 'em
Lies on my breath, I am drowning in my dread
Every move you make
Oh how we love you
fallen angels at my feet
Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies
i'll miss the winter a world of fragile things
Of course, just because we've heard a spine-chilling, blood-curdling scream of the sort to make your very marrow freeze in your bones doesn't automatically mean there's anything wrong.
The Patrician was a pragmatist. He never tried to fix things that worked. Things that didn't work, however, got broken.
Getting an education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs and then you had the urge to pass it on.
"'Chapter Fifteen, Elementary Necromancy'", she read out loud. "'Lesson One: Correct Use of Shovel...'"
You did something because it had always been done, and the explanation was "but we've always done it this way." A million dead people can't have been wrong, can they?
The Truth Shall Make Ye Fret
In the second scroll of Wen the Eternally Surprised a story is written concerning one day when the apprentice Clodpool, in a rebellious mood, approached Wen and spake thusly: "Master, what is the difference between a humanistic, monastic system of belief in which wisdom is sought by means of an apparently nonsensical system of questions and answers, and a lot of mystic gibberish made up on the spur of the moment?" Wen considered this for some time, and at last said: "A fish!" And Clodpool went away, satisfied.(Terry Pratchett)
"-What power would hell have if those imprisoned here would not be able to dream of heaven?"
Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes and forgot
Her kind walk amidst the flotsam of lives they have sacrificed, for their own purposes, till friendless and alone they needs must make the final sacrifice.
If my dream was true, then everything we know, everything we think we know is a lie. It means the world's about as solid and as reliable as a layer of scum on the top of a well of black water which goes down forever, and there are things in the depths that I don't even want to think about. It means that we're just dolls. We don't have a clue what's really going down, we just kid ourselves that we're in control of our lives while a paper's thickness away things that would drive us mad if we thought about them for too long play with us, and move us around from room to room, and put us away at night when they're tired, or bored..
I move from dreamer to dreamer, from dream to dream, hunting for what I need. Slipping and sliding and flickering through dreams; and the dreamers will wake and wonder why this dream seemed different, wonder how real their lives can truly be.
You shouldn't trust the story-teller; only trust the story(Neil Gaiman, sandman comics)
NOW, FOR THE FMA QUOTES!
Ed: so, if you pray and polish the altar enough times, someone who’s dead will be brought back to life?
Roze: something like that
Ed: (sighs) Water, 35 litres, carbon, 20 kilogrammes, ammonia, 4 litres, lime, 1.5 kilogrammes, phosphorous, 800 grammes, salt, 250 grammes, saltpetre, 100 grammes, sulphur , 80 grammes, fluorine, 7.5, iron, 5, silicone, 3 grammes, and trace amounts of fifteen other elements.
Roze: What’s that?
Ed: It’s all the ingredients of the average adult human body, down to the last specks of protein in your eyelashes. And even though science has given us the entire physical breakdown, there’s never been a successful attempt at bringing a human to life. There’s still something missing, something scientists have been unable to find in centuries of research. So what makes you think that hack-job priest with his parlour tricks is gonna be able to? And in case you’re wondering, all those ingredients can be bought on a childs allowance. Humans can be built on the cheap. There’s no magic to it.
Roze: Well if there’s no magic, then you bring someone back to life!
Ed: Just a matter of time Roze. Science will find a way. Science is the answer to anything. If I were you, I’d drop the scriptures and pick up an alchemy book. We’re the closest things to gods there are.
Roze: You’re not a god. You’re nothing close to it.
Ed: And neither is the sun. It’s just a mass of hydrogen. Get close to it like Cornello claims, and all you’ll do is burn up.
Cornello: Your limbs, they’re fake!
Ed: Brilliant deduction! (Tears arm off jacket)
Roze: Oh god…!
Ed: Don’t look away Roze. You need to see what happens when you try to bring a human to life, when you cross into gods territory or whatever the hell it is. Is this what you want? Look!
Roze: (To herself) His arm, his leg, they’re machines!
Cornello: I see. Now I understand you, Elric. You crossed the line, you did what is strictly forbidden. You tried to create human life and your bodies were taken to the other side.
Ed: Told you, Roze. Get too close to the sun, and you burn.
Greed: I'm sorry, who the hell are you?
Izumi Curtis: Pissed off!
Roy Mustang: You can call me Roy Mustang. Or just Lieutenant Colonel. Hell, you can call me the Flame Alchemist. Whatever you do, remember the pain.
Dietlinde Eckhart: This place isn't like where I come from. It's a brave new world.
Edward Elric: It's exactly the same; people still live, cry, laugh, and die.
Hughes:(speaking to Mustang about the investigation on Scar) His bloodstained clothes washed up further down stream. We don't know if that means that he's dead, or just naked.
Wrath: (to Edward) Thanks for the Arm and leg!
Wrath: (to Izumi) Thanks for this incomplete life! Nothing can match my gratitude. Not even my hate.
Lieutenant Lisa Hawkeye: Master Sergeant Feury, during your last physical examination we discovered a severe case of athletes foot... and we now believe that it is affecting your brain.
Edward Elric: Damn it, there are so many idiots whose asses I have to kick! I'll have to start carrying a list just to keep track of 'em all!
If you read this far, you can officially count yourself as crazy as me. And that's not a compliment.