Sunday, May 7, 2017

Stick a Fork in Me …

LOL ok, so not really.  Just figured I should let everyone know what’s going on around here.

So after goofing around awhile (and crocheting… I’ll admit, I’ve been busy crocheting lol), I figured I’d get back into things, so I wrote three and a half chapters of P10, thinking that I’d be awesome and shock my beta, Greta, with 10 chapters at once.  Of course, I really should have known better, all things considered.  Because I thought I’d do such a dumb thing, karma kicked me, and my computer crashed.  I do mean CRASHED.  It was sad.  There was smoke.  There were tears.  There was CUSSING.  Especially when I realized that, because I thought I’d be smart and dump on my poor beta, I never actually emailed the chapters, which meant they’re gone.  Totally gone.  Poof.  More tears.  Stupid computer L   (Yes, I’m going to blame it on my computer, absolutely).  So at the moment, I’m still trying to save up the money to replace my old, dead laptop, but life keeps emptying my pockets, which brings me to …

Shortly after that, one of our cats got really sick.  He was puking up everything (literally) that he ate, to the point that he just stopped eating.  I won’t bore you all with the details except to say that he had to be force fed from a syringe, had to go in constantly for B12 shots because his liver was failing, and in the end (and after about 500 bucks, all totaled), we had to let him go, which broke our hearts.  He’s missed every day, and the ache he left behind is horrible.  If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you’re probably tired of hearing about it.  Even so, that was the hard part.

My sister is here visiting from Georgia, so that’s good, and because she is here, I’m currently using her laptop, but she’s leaving in a couple weeks to go back home, which will leave me lappy-less once more, but that’s neither here nor there.  The biggest problem is my eye.

Well, it’s almost healed now (thank GOD) but it was pretty scary.  A week ago last Thursday, I was sitting here (actually writing … I know, it’s a sign!) when I suddenly felt like I got something in my eye.  It felt like one tiny grain of sand.  That’s the best way to describe it.  So I thought that it’d come out on it’s own.  It usually does.

It was still in there on Friday, so the hubs and I tried for TWO HOURS to wash it out of my eye, and the speck moved (to a more painful place a few times) but never came out.  By then, it was late on Friday, and I thought, fine, I’ll wait till Monday and go to the doctor  …

Except that by Saturday night, around 10, I couldn’t take it anymore.  It was driving me insane, and I finally broke down and went to the emergency room (feeling entirely retarded for going in for a speck of dirt in my eye).  At least I felt slightly better when the ER doc (who was named Michael Myers, I shit you not) told me that the regular doctor would have just sent me in to the ER anyway since they don’t have the equipment to diagnose my eye there, anyway.

So they dye my eye bright freaking yellow (IKR?  Totally wanted it to stay in my eye so I could freak out my kids, but it wore out too fast, unfortunately) and took a look, and you know, it wasn’t dirt in my eye at all.  Nope.  I had a corneal ulcer/hemorrhage (google it.  The pics are scary as hell).  I needed 150 dollar eye drops (yeah, I about died, too), and I needed to go to the eye doctor.

So I go to my regular doctor on Monday (being on the anti-biotic eye drops for a little over 24 hours at that point, not to mention the antibacterial ointment I have to use before I go to bed that’s like putting Vaseline in my eye.  Yeah, it’s GROSS.  The doctor gives me a referral to a specialist but tells the nurse to arrange the appointment for—and I quote—a non-healing corneal ulcer which freaks me out entirely!

The eye doctor has been great, though, but she said that she thinks that my ridiculously dry eyes caused this, that my cornea tore when I blinked because my eyes are that dry.  So now I have trusty moisturizing eye drops and my eyes feel much better.  When I went in on Friday, she started me on steroid eye drops (O.o) and said it should be healed completely by the time I go in next Friday.

I’m only telling you all this because that’s why I’ve been sort of slow this week lol.

Another thing I found out (not about my eye or anything) is that they finally remade the forum on media miner, and the only reason THAT matters is because I was finally able to bark at them about the messed up emails for updates.  They re-enabled those today, but he said that they’re only doing what amounts to a daily digest sort of email instead of real time emails like they used to.  Figures, but better than nothing, right?

So about the updates …

I’ve been working on Desideratum as well as Metamorphosis 2: Legacies, so I hope that someone reads them lol

As of now, P10 is still on hiatus, and to be honest, I’m not entirely sure that it’ll get written.  It’s not that I don’t like Mikio (I do) but it’s just not as exciting to me to write a story when I already know from start to finish what’s happening.  It’s hard for it to keep my attention, and I know that sounds terrible, but in my head, the story has already been told, so it’s hard to make myself sit down and write it out, especially when other things that have to do with it but are also kind of separate (it’s a long story) have the ability to hurt me, too.  I have explained it to some people who have asked, but…

In any case, I hope that someone will read what I’m coming up with now, and I hope that anyone who reads this post will understand and be patient with me while I try to re-discover my love of posting.


posted by Sueric at 5:19 am  

Sunday, September 6, 2015

I’m so lost!

Lol Ok, so that’s kind of just me, being overly dramatic … Seriously, though, I just realized that my last blog post put me offline for awhile, but … I’m back (well, yanno!)


Anyway, if you don’t know, Purity 9: Subterfuge is now complete. IKR? Never, ever thought it’d get done; I know … But now it is. It makes me so sad. I’m really going to miss writing about Evan. A lot.


Also complete are the Purity edits I promised. It has a bit of a different feel, I think, so do download the new version of it, too. You can get both of those off Ao3. Just select the “Entire Work” button at the top of the chapter you’re on. Purity loads pretty quickly, but don’t be surprised if Subterfuge takes a bit to load in it’s entirety. It’s HUUUUUUGE …. But once it does load, just hit ‘Download’ and select the format you want. I know that the PDF version works for them—that’s what I downloaded. I can’t account for the others, though. But I hope you enjoy anyway.


So now, I’m just kind of sitting here, trying to figure out where I go from here. I could work on Purity 10: Anomaly, sure, but… I just don’t know. Let me know if there’s something in particular that you’re looking forward to? Help me out here. I’m feeling kind of lonely, after all!

posted by Sueric at 9:36 pm  

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

P10: 003: The Favor

~~Chapter 3~~

~The Favor~



“Please, please, please, please, please, please, please—”


Mikio rolled his eyes and tried not to smile as his niece, Jillian Jamison clasped her hands and held them up in front of her chest. “I don’t know . . . Doesn’t his firm have a corporate attorney?”


Jillian wrinkled her nose and glanced at the milling crowd enjoying the wedding reception. “Sure they do, but he’s entirely lazy. Spends too much time getting paid for doing nothing, and now that they actually need him, he’s proving to be completely useless. I’m starting to wonder if he went to law school at all, really . . .” She sighed, pale blue eyes widening as her lips turned down in a pretty moue. “Gavin needs you, Mikio . . . You can’t let him get in trouble for something he didn’t do!”


Smiling wanly as Jillian rested her hand on his forearm, he shook his head. “Well, I’d have to ask Toga-oji-san if he minds if I took a leave of absence.”


Jillian finally relaxed, eyes sparkling as the million-dollar smile broke over her features. “You have no idea how much this means to me!” she gushed, throwing her arms around Mikio’s neck in her exuberance.


“Let me make sure it’s all right before you arrange that parade in my honor,” he warned.


“It’ll be fine,” she assured him, waving off his concern with a flutter of her hand. “Uncle Toga loves Gavvie! Everyone loves him; you know that!”


Mikio rolled his eyes, but grinned.   He doubted that Toga would have a problem with it, either, but he didn’t like to make promises before he checked into the possibilities. Maybe it was the lawyer ingrained in him. “Let me go talk to him,” he told her again.


Jillian pressed an extremely loud kiss on his cheek and grinned. “You can stay with us, if you want. We’ve got room to spare.”


“Actually,” Mikio said with a scowl, “if I stay to represent Jamison-san, then it’s probably a good idea if I don’t stay with you. Conflict of interest, you know. Anyway, I’m sure I can find a place of my own. Don’t worry about me.”


“You have no idea how happy you’ve made me,” Jillian went on with a giggle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you . . . You get a thousand hero points for this!”


“You’re still keeping score?” he asked since she’d been keeping hero point score for years.


She nodded. “Of course I am, and right now, you’re absolutely my biggest hero—my Gavvie notwithstanding, naturally.”


He chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as Jillian hurried away to find ‘her Gavvie’. Gazing over the assembled guests, Mikio shook his head. Evan hadn’t invited many of his rock star buddies since few of them knew who he really was, let alone what he really was, but he had invited a few: namely the head of his security team—a hulking buffalo-youkai with the unfortunate nickname of ‘Bone’—his manager, Michael Murphy along with his mate and daughter, and Bugs, a very flamboyant and very gay rabbit-youkai who had spent the better part of the reception literally sobbing over the idea that Zel Roka, a.k.a. Evan Zelig, was officially off the market. There were a couple others, milling in the crowd, but Mikio hadn’t been properly introduced to them, and, to be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure who they were.


It wouldn’t have been so conspicuous, Mikio figured, if Bone weren’t wearing a ragged t-shirt from Evan’s last tour that proclaimed, “I did V with Zel Roka” on the back along with skin-tight leather pants. Mike, at least, was dressed decently, but Bugs had opted to wear all black to ‘celebrate’ the occasion. Mikio winced. Bugs’ eyeliner and mascara were smudged all over his eyes, and the streaks on his cheeks were quite noticeable, and that the waif-like Bugs was currently standing right next to Sesshoumaru Inutaisho, the current Inu no Taisho? Mikio coughed and quickly hid his amusement as his uncle’s golden gaze lit on him. Nope, the irony in that was just not something that was lost on Mikio at all . . .


Looking away before he laughed outright at the decidedly irritated look on Sesshoumaru’s face, Mikio frowned when he spotted his great-nephew sitting alone under a tree nearby.


Mikio wandered over, tugging on his slacks as he knelt before the three year-old child. The boy tugged on the tie he had obviously been forced to wear. “Something wrong, Bailey?”


“Mama said weddings are fun,” he grumbled, nose wrinkling in obvious distaste.


“Sydnie-san said that?”


He nodded, his dejection growing by leaps and bounds in an instant. “And they’re not. They’re boring, and Daddy won’t let me climb my tree.”


Mikio grinned, still amused at the idea of Bas being a father. “No, I don’t suppose he would.”


“Then he took away the bokuto Jii-chan gave me,” Bailey grumbled.


“Your father did?”


Bailey’s frown darkened, and Mikio blinked in surprise. Sometimes it amazed him, just how much Bailey looked like his father. Maybe it was the scowl . . . “He said I would hit people. I don’t hit people, honest! Not even Livvy, even when I wanna!”


“I don’t imagine you would,” Mikio agreed. He sighed and slowly stood up. “Come on, Bailey.”


“Can you get my bokuto back from Daddy?” he asked hopefully, scrambling to his feet as his eyes grew wide.


“No . . . just thought maybe you’d like some cake—that is, if Cain-onii-san will let anyone touch it.”


There actually was a chance he would. Gin had enlisted the help of all the women other than the bride-to-be and Madison, since she was busy helping Valerie with last minute things, and Nezumi, who couldn’t cook a single thing unless it came in a box and was stuck straight into the microwave oven, but Ryomaru had stepped in to help in her place, and together they had baked the groom’s cake. Rumor had it that Cain had helped Gin decorate it, and Mikio had to admit that he wouldn’t have known the cake was homemade if he hadn’t been shooed out of the kitchen when he’d gone in there to get a bottle of water while the assembled cooks were working.


Bailey sighed, too, but slipped his hand into Mikio’s, following him through the crowd as they made their way to the refreshment table. Kagome hurried over and took the cake plates from Mikio with a bright smile. “Let me carry those for you,” she said.


Mikio clenched his jaw, but didn’t argue as Kagome led the way to a nearby table. “Do you want something to drink, Bailey?”


Bailey nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”


Her eyes rose to meet Mikio’s. “No, thank you,” he replied, brushing aside the rising irritation that never seemed too far away lately, especially when Kagome started mothering him in such a way.


Kagome nodded and tweaked Bailey’s nose before hurrying away to get the boy something to drink. “Where do babies come from?” Bailey suddenly asked, turning his questioning gaze on Mikio, who, unfortunately, had just taken a bite of cake.


Sucking in his breath and choking on a few crumbs, Mikio coughed harshly and swallowed. “B-B-Babies?”


Bailey nodded. “Daddy says Mama wants anudder baby ’cause I’m a big boy and ’cause Olivia is stinky.”


“Sh-Shouldn’t you . . . ask your . . . daddy?” Mikio wheezed out, clearing his throat and struggling to breathe between rounds of coughing.


He shook his head. “Daddy says that babies come from Mama, but that don’t make sense.”


“Why’s that?”


Bailey shot him a condescending glance. “‘Cause Mama’s a girl!


“That’s true,” he agreed slowly, trying to think of a way to distract the child. “But she’s your mama, and you’re a boy . . .”


“Daddy makes the boys, and Mama makes the girls.”


“Who told you that?”


Bailey shrugged as though it were the simplest thing in the world. “I figured it out myself!” he announced proudly. “I came from Daddy, and Olivia came from Mama—I remember.”


Mikio cleared his throat and gratefully accepted the bottle of water Kagome offered him. She poked a straw into the apple juice pouch she’d brought for Bailey and handed it over. “Are you all right, Mikio?” she asked when he coughed once more.


“Just fine,” he assured her, pushing the plate away lest Bailey should spout any more of his little pearls of wisdom.


“And Grandpa Cain says the world will end if Uncle Evan makes babies ’cause they’ll wear his jeans,” Bailey went on.


Kagome coughed, too, and hid a smile behind her hand. “Oh?”


Bailey nodded. “He says Uncle Evan and Aunt Valerie should . . .” he trailed off, face scrunching up as he concentrated on the word he wanted, “. . . adapt.”


“Adapt?” Kagome echoed with a frown.


Adopt,” Mikio supplied, a smile twitching the corners of his lips.


“I see . . .” Kagome murmured, a small smile surfacing as she stared at Mikio for a moment. “Come on, Bailey. Let’s go see what Jii-chan is doing, shall we?”


Bailey stuffed the last of his cake into his mouth and hopped off the chair, grabbing Kagome’s hand and literally dragging her away. Mikio watched them go, unable to repress the relieved sigh that slipped from him.


Maybe staying in the States for awhile would be a good thing for him. The time away from his parents’ scrutiny couldn’t be all bad, could it? True enough, InuYasha never gave him grief, but his brand of concern was just as stifling as Kagome’s, even if it was in an entirely different kind of way. Where Kagome would hover over him all the time, Mikio couldn’t help but feel that InuYasha was somehow disappointed in him; as though he thought that Mikio’s shortcomings were his fault. Morio told him regularly that he was imagining things. InuYasha had never been disappointed in Mikio, and while he couldn’t say that InuYasha had ever really acted as though he were, Mikio also knew how much stock his father put into physical strength and the ability to fight to protect those he loved. Because of his balance problems, Mikio had never, ever been taught to fight. The closest thing to actual training he’d had was learning how to shoot a bow and arrow, courtesy of his mother, because he could do that while standing still, and later, he’d learned how to shoot guns at his father’s insistence.


There ain’t anyone alive—man or youkai—who can outrun a bullet,” InuYasha informed him when he’d set the metal case containing a small pistol on the table in front of Mikio.


Mikio blinked, leaning back in his chair as he stared. InuYasha unlocked the box and carefully pushed the lid back. Mikio shook his head. “Papa . . .”


You’ll learn how to fire that,” InuYasha insisted.


Mikio sighed. “I thought you said that guns were dishonorable.”


Keh! Dishonorable would be if I let you grow up without having some way of defending yourself.”


Mikio had wanted to argue with InuYasha, but the stubborn set of his father’s jaw dissuaded him. “A-A-All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “I will.”


And he did. The head of Inutaisho Industries’ security team had trained him, and while Mikio might not be a gunslinger, he was quite accurate. Though his mentor, Yasuaki-sensei was youkai, Mikio had never been able to shake off the feeling that he wasn’t quite as good as his brothers or even Gin, really. They’d all been trained to fight, and despite his father’s insistence that it was just a means to an end, he found the training to be quite embarrassing. He’d heard it said more than once—never by his family once he had started his training: there was no honor in shooting someone, no matter what the provocation. Add to that the weight of being the son of the hanyou of legend, and, well, Mikio couldn’t help but feel as though he were a huge disappointment. He’d tried not to let it bother him, and strangely, he wasn’t teased by his nephews or Gunnar for it.


“Penny for your thoughts?”


Mikio sat up straight and glanced around slowly, stumbling to his feet when he finally saw Madison standing behind him. She smiled, brushing off the ankle-length skirt of the pale lilac dress. “C-Cartham-san . . . Hello.”


She waved off his greeting with a flick of her wrist. “Just Madison or Maddy’s fine,” she assured him. “What should I call you?”


For some reason, her question triggered a blush. “Oh, uh . . . M-Mikio’s fine—Just Mikio . . .”


She seemed pleased by his answer, and her smile brightened a few more degrees, putting it on par with the afternoon sunshine in Mikio’s estimation . . . “You looked like you were thinking about something pretty serious,” she commented. “Is something wrong?”


“Nope,” he replied, brushing away the memory as he offered her a shy little grin. “Just . . . having some cake. Do you want some? I could get it for you . . .”


“No, thank you,” she said with a small smile.


“You’re sure? Don’t you like cake? I . . . I like cake . . . or, uh, maybe I could get you something to drink? I’m drinking water . . .”


Goo-o-ood . . . I sound like a damned baka . . . stupid, stupid, stupid!’


She shook her head and slipped into the chair Bailey had vacated. “That’s all right,” she replied. “I thought I’d make the rounds, you know?”


“The rounds?”


She wrinkled her nose, violet eyes glowing in the light reflecting off the white satin tablecloth. “Well, since Valerie hasn’t left Evan’s side since the wedding, someone has to greet the guests, don’t you think?”


Mikio shook his head. “But—”


Her laughter was soft, gentle, and he blinked at the surge of warmth that shot through him. “I’m teasing,” she told him, her gaze flittering away as she spotted the couple in question. “They look happy, all things considered.”




Madison waved a hand. “Valerie wasn’t very happy when Evan decided to lop off his hair before the wedding.”


Mikio nodded, scowling thoughtfully as he glanced from the couple to another pair close by. Bas and Cain stood off to the side, both looking somewhat disgruntled. Closely resembling freshly shorn sheep, Mikio didn’t have to be brilliant to know that the obvious irritation was very likely due to the fact that neither man had chosen to have his hair cut off before the wedding, either. “Evan’s always liked to be different,” Mikio mused quietly, “but why did Cain and Bas cut their hair?”


Madison giggled. “Apparently Gin found out about their conversation with Valerie, and she decided that if Evan was going to cut his hair for the wedding, they could, too: a show of solidarity or something . . .”


Mikio grimaced. He’d heard about ‘The Talk’ earlier. Cain and Bas had sat Valerie down and told her about many of Evan’s more colorful escapades to warn her about what she was getting into in agreeing to marry Evan. Evan hadn’t reacted well to the idea that his father and brother —all the men in the family, actually—were trying to meddle, but Mikio had to wonder if the entire affair hadn’t been a more calculated effort to relive some of Evan’s more interesting moments without having to admit out loud that they were amused and even a little proud of Evan’s outrageous antics. “Well, I’d heard about that,” he admitted. He hadn’t sat in on the impromptu-conference, though. No, he’d spent his time, lying in bed and blinking into the darkness, trying to put the image of Madison, bathed in moonlight, out of his mind . . .


Madison’s lips twitched, and Mikio could tell she was trying not to laugh outright. “Gin’s word was ‘bald’, but I just couldn’t bring myself to shave the tai-youkai’s head . . .”


“It just looks . . . strange,” Mikio allowed.


“Hmm, yes . . . and vastly disturbing.”


“It’ll grow back.”


“That’s true, but before the wedding, Valerie insisted that she didn’t want any pictures of Evan without his hair.”


Mikio grinned. “No wedding pictures?”


“He does look really, really different, doesn’t he? Almost . . . respectable.”


Mikio chuckled. “Almost.”


Madison laughed, too. “Can you dance?”


Mikio’s amusement died away, and he cleared his throat, fighting down the urge to blush. “Dance? Me? I, uh . . . no . . .”


“Oh . . .” she said then gave a quick shrug. “It’s a slow song, though, really not much more than swaying.”


“I don’t want to . . . crush your toes or anything.”


She smiled. “That’s okay.”




“Don’t be.”


Stifling the urge to sigh, Mikio scowled at the table and slowly shook his head.


Wonderful, Mikio . . . You’re losing points, you know . . . You’re about to end up in the red if you’re not careful, and then where will we be?


Better than tripping all over my own feet,’ he thought with a grimace, ‘or falling flat on my face . . .’


Kami, she’s beautiful,’ his youkai pointed out with a dreamy little sigh.


Yeah, she is,’ he agreed unhappily. ‘Gorgeous, actually . . . and way out of my league.’


She doesn’t seem to think you are, or haven’t you noticed that yet?


She hasn’t seen me lose my balance or anything stupid,’ he shot back, ‘and I’d rather that she doesn’t, either.’


“Hey, Maddy. Come dance with the Bone.”


Maddy giggled as she peered up into the leader of Evan’s security team’s smiling face. “What’s that? Slumming, are you?”


Bone snorted, rubbing his bald head and shifting his weight from one leg to the other in a lazy, yet calculated stance—one that Mikio couldn’t even hope to accomplish. “Hardly. You’re the classiest chick I’ve tried to pick up today.”


“Meaning you haven’t tried to pick up anyone else, right?”


Bone chuckled. “Something like that. How about it? Want to dance with the ol’ Bone?”


She started to stand up.   Mikio stood up, too. Reacting on impulse, the only cognizant thought in his head was that he didn’t want to see Madison dancing with anyone else, especially someone nicknamed for a state of constant sexual arousal . . . “I-I was going to dance with her,” he blurted.


Bone blinked and stepped back, holding up his hands in a good-natured show of deference. “No worries, man. I didn’t realize you’d already asked her.”


Madison didn’t gainsay Mikio. He avoided her gaze as he slipped his hand under her elbow and led the way to the center of the lawn that had been fitted with a portable wooden platform for the wedding reception. She stepped into his arms, one hand resting on his shoulder as he grasped her free hand, mimicking the stance he’d seen in movies before. Madison smiled up at him, and he could feel heat infusing his cheeks. “So you do dance,” she murmured quietly.


“Not really,” he admitted.


“You’re doing well enough,” she said.


He grimaced. “I doubt it, but thank you.”


She sighed contentedly and shot him a little smile.


He stiffened as she moved in closer. If she noticed, she didn’t react. Relaxing just the tiniest bit, he grinned self-consciously and inhaled the lightly floral scent of Madison’s shampoo. The baser scent of her was a little spicier, reminding Mikio of the little custom tea shop that he frequented back home in Tokyo. The array of exotic blends always lent a certain sense of mystery, at least in his mind. ‘Cinnamon and cloves . . . and a hint of something a little wilder . . .’


“Are those two as happy as they always seem to be?”


Snapping out of his reverie, Mikio blinked and slowly followed the direction of Madison’s gaze. Staring at his nephew, Morio and his mate Meara, Madison’s smile turned a little wistful as Morio held Meara close and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Meara blushed prettily but smiled at her mate, and the affection in Morio’s expression was apparent to anyone who was looking.


“I think so,” Mikio mumbled. “As far as I know, they’ve never even had an argument.”


She shot him an amused glance. “The perfect couple?”


“Something like that.”


“Didn’t you guys grow up together?”


“For the most part. Morio and I were a little closer, I guess, but yeah . . .”


“Sort of like Bas and Gunnar, you mean?”


Mikio shrugged. “I suppose.”


“And Evan? Were you close to him?”


“Sort of.” He grinned. “Evan used to run off and hide at Kichiro-nii-san’s house instead of training whenever he came to Japan . . . Nii-san taught him how to play the piano. I mean, he learned what he needed to learn from my father, but he never was a fighter like Bas always was.”


Madison laughed. “And you? You’re not a fighter, are you?”


Mikio’s smile faded, and he sighed. “Not really, no . . .”






“I think that’s okay.”


He swallowed hard as Madison rested her temple against his shoulder. “Y-You . . . do?”


“Yes, I do.”



<<< 002: Charity Case




Bokuto: Wooden practice sword. Go figure… lol.

== == == == == == == == == ==

Final Thought from Madison:

Not a fighter, huh?


Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Anomaly): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.


posted by Sueric at 1:31 pm  

Sunday, April 27, 2014

P10: 02: Charity Case

~~Chapter 2~~

~Charity Case~



Madison sighed as she hurried up the wide stone steps onto the Zelig family’s front porch.  If she had been thinking a little more clearly earlier, she would have remembered that she’d left her cell phone on Valerie’s nightstand.  As it was, she’d been home in the middle of cleaning guns with her father when Shar, one of the girls at her main salon, had called her parents’ house phone, grumbling about being out of a certain brand of conditioner, and just why wasn’t Madison answering her cell?


Her father hadn’t done more than offer a distracted little grunt when she said that she’d left the device in Valerie’s bedroom and that she was going to go over there to pick it up.


Are you sure you’re just not looking for a reason to go back?


Wrinkling her nose at her youkai voice, Madison shook her head and squared her shoulders before raising her hand to knock.  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.  What other reason could there possibly be?


Oh, I don’t know . . . a mysterious stranger that you ran down on the stairs, maybe?


Madison could feel her cheeks heat up as she shrugged.  ‘That’s just ludicrous.  I don’t even know him; at least, not really.’


But that doesn’t mean you can’t get to know him, does it?


Ignoring you now,’ she thought with an indelicate snort as she drew her hand back to knock.


She didn’t get a chance to do it.  The door swung open, and she stepped back just in time to avoid colliding with a very angry looking Mikio, who didn’t seem to have noticed her standing there.  Realizing a little too late, he jerked back and pulled himself up short, using his hand on the door to steady himself.


Madison swallowed hard, ignoring the way her heart lurched in her chest as she smiled a little timidly and cleared her throat.  “Hi again.”


He blinked once, twice, left ear twitching horribly, and for a moment, Madison wondered if he could really be that agitated.  “H-Hi,” he stammered.


“I forgot my cell phone,” she explained quietly.


Mikio didn’t appear to have heard her.  The anger that flashed in his eyes dissipated, leaving behind a curious sense of wonder as he stared at her.


“Can I come in?”


“Excuse me?”


She giggled then sighed as she slowly shook her head.  “Are you okay?”


He seemed taken aback at her question, and he blinked in relative confusion for a moment before opening and closing his mouth a few times, as though he were at a loss for words.  “What?  Oh . . . yeah . . . fine.”


Biting her lip, Madison wondered if she hadn’t overstepped her boundaries, if she weren’t being just a little too intrusive for his liking.  “I’m sorry.  You just looked a little . . . upset.”


“It’s nothing,” he insisted, waving off her concern despite the hint of irritation that had resurfaced in his expression.


She wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t push it, either.  Reminding herself that she really didn’t know him well enough to ask such personal questions, Madison shrugged and nodded toward the doorway he was blocking.  “So . . . may I get my cell phone?”


Mikio’s cheeks pinked as he realized that he was in her way, and he quickly stepped back.  Grimacing as his face lost much of its color, he caught hold of the doorframe again, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.  Madison didn’t think.  Stepping toward him, steadying his elbow, it was her turn to blink in surprise when he shot her a weary, shy smile—wan at best, but so completely endearing that, for a moment, she couldn’t think of  a single thing—not even her own name.


“You’re not okay, are you?” she finally asked, her voice quiet, as though speaking in a normal tone might hurt him.


He grimaced and leaned heavily against the wall.  “Airplanes . . .” he managed, closing his eyes.


It took her a moment to interpret his reply.  Then she recalled Evan mentioning before that Mikio tended to have more trouble than the rest of them in coping with the strains of air travel—something to do with the rapidly changing air pressure, and it made sense.  “The airplane?  Oh . . . I’m sorry . . .”


“I’m fine,” he grumbled, cheeks finally pinking up again, and even though the color obviously stemmed from acute embarrassment, Madison couldn’t help but feel relieved.


Even so, she also couldn’t help but sympathize with him, too.  Of course he would want to be here for his nephew’s wedding, but if traveling affected him so badly . . . Well, it had to be frustrating, to say the least . . . “Maybe you should go for a walk or something?  Fresh air . . . I could go find Gin . . . or your mother . . . she’s here, right?”


Mikio grabbed her wrist as Madison whipped around to find Kagome.  “Not her,” he hissed, his whisper imploring as his eyes met hers.  “Not Mama.”  He grimaced and let go of Madison’s wrist.  “Please.”


Madison frowned in confusion but nodded.  “All right,” she agreed slowly.  “If you’re sure . . .”


Swallowing hard, he squeezed his eyes closed for a second before managing another weak smile.  “You’re right.  Fresh air.  I think that’d help.”


“Okay . . .”


He pushed himself away from the wall, his movements stilted, almost mechanical.  He took a few steps onto the porch but stopped suddenly and glanced over his shoulder.  “You . . . would you come with me?”


Madison didn’t think twice.  Pulling the door closed behind herself, she fell in step beside Mikio as the hanyou shuffled down the steps onto the flagstone sidewalk.


“Is that why you don’t come here to visit as often as everyone else?  Because of the airplanes?”


Mikio shot her an inscrutable glance as he stuffed his hands deep in his pockets and shrugged.  “Sort of.”


“I mean, I’ve been friends with Evan for . . . forever, I guess . . . and I don’t remember seeing you, other than the couple times when I was still pretty young . . . and at Bas and Sydnie’s wedding . . .”


“I hate flying,” he remarked.  “That’s all.”


“You’re a lot quieter than your brothers.”


He paused mid-stride for only a moment, his back stiffening almost imperceptibly, as though her question was more of an accusation than an observation.  “Is that bad?”


She laughed, remembering the outrageous things that she’d heard over the years; the stories about the Izayoi twins.  “Not necessarily.”


“I’m not really like them,” he explained quietly.  “I’m not really like anyone, I guess.”


Madison nodded as the pebbly ground gave way to the finer sand near the ocean.  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” she pointed out with a gentle smile.  “Granted, I don’t have much room to talk, given that Evan is one of my best friends, but I have to admit that there are things I wish hadn’t happened—and most of those were his idea.  I just went along for the ride.”


“So Evan’s the instigator,” he replied with a curt nod, as though that made perfect sense.


“Well, maybe not entirely,” Madison admitted.  “But the things that normally ended up badly for me usually were.”


“Sounds like what aniki and Kichiro-nii say about their exploits.”


She smiled to herself at perceived cuteness in the way that Mikio referred to his brothers.  “Too bad those are some of the best stories,” she went on to say.  “Don’t tell Evan I said that, though.”


“Understood,” he said with a curt nod and an overly-serious expression.  Then he sighed and shook his head.  “I guess sometimes I wish . . . I wish I was more like them . . .” He uttered a short chuckle that was almost sad.  “Well, sometimes, anyway . . . I don’t think I’d want to get into trouble like they did . . .”


Mikio took a few more steps before sinking down to stare at the sky over the water.  Something about him seemed so . . . almost melancholy that Madison bit her lip and frowned.  For some reason, she didn’t really feel like she could ask him why he seemed so upset, so she figured that the next-best course of action would be to see if she could make him laugh, instead . . . “If it makes you feel any better, the first time Evan took me out on his motorcycle, I ended up puking off the Brooklyn Bridge.”


He shot her a quizzical glance and then uttered a terse laugh.  “You did?”


She made a face as she sat, cross legged, beside him.  “Might have been because he insisted on seeing just how fast he could make the thing go.  I thought he was going to kill himself or me—maybe both.  He’s sort of an ass that way.”


Her story had done the trick, and Mikio still looked amused when he asked, “How’d you meet him?”


She laughed as she considered that question.  Easy enough to say that she’d known Evan for so long that she didn’t really remember not knowing him, but everything had to start somewhere, didn’t it?  And she’d heard the stories often enough, even if she was a little young at the time and didn’t rightfully remember it completely anymore.  “Mom brought me over.  I was three, I think . . . he threw my doll into a tree and got stuck when he climbed up after it.”


He thought about that for a moment then shrugged off-handedly.  “Maybe you should have left him up there.”


Madison grinned.  “That’s what Cain said.”


Mikio started to say something but stopped, as though something had just occurred to him, and he slowly shook his head.  “Wait . . . you’re the one he was telling me about, right?  The one he set the dog loose with?”


Madison groaned.  In one of his moments of bored inspiration, Evan had rigged up a harness for his dog, Fugly, and he’d gotten Madison to sit on the little sled, strapped in so that she wouldn’t fall out, just before he’d set off a string of fire crackers to galvanize the animal into action.  It had taken almost an hour to get Fugly to stop running—and yipping—and to this day, Madison wasn’t quite sure how Evan had ever talked her into that stunt . . .


“Yeah, that was me,” she confessed.


“Evan bragged about that for a year,” Mikio remarked with a slow shake of his head.


“Figures.  I’m not sure why I stayed friends with him.”


“Looking into becoming a saint?”


Madison giggled at the teasing tone in his voice.   “A saint?  Oh, I don’t think that’d ever happen . . .”


“Why not?”


She ducked her chin.  “Well, let’s just say that I doubt I’d meet the requirements.”


Taking his time as he slowly rolled up the cuffs of his long sleeved white dress shirt, Mikio didn’t speak.  Madison smiled, noting the deliberateness of his movements, the almost lethargic sense that surrounded him.  Even the shadows that fell on him in the darkness of the night didn’t quite seem to affect him in a normal way.  Maybe it was simply because, dressed in khaki slacks and the white shirt with his silvery hair and pale skin, he almost seemed to glow.


Snorting at her own whimsical thoughts, Madison shook her head and sighed.  ‘He’s just a guy . . . just like every other guy, right?  He’s wrapped up in a nice package, sure, but in the end, he’s just the same, isn’t he?


When did you get so cynical?


Am I?


Aren’t you?


Madison shifted her gaze out over the expanse of water in the moonlight.  ‘Maybe I am . . .’


“You live around here?”


Blinking as she cleared her mind and stole a glance back at Mikio only to find him staring off in the same direction she had been just moments before, Madison cleared her throat.  “My mom and dad do.  I normally live in New York City.”


He grinned a little, lopsided, shy sort of grin.  “You strike me as a metropolitan girl.”


“How so?”


He shrugged, his gaze shifting to meet hers though he didn’t turn his head.  “Polished, I guess . . . do you even own a pair of jeans?”


Glancing down at the short black suede skirt and matching suede thigh high, stiletto heeled boots, Madison laughed.  “What are jeans?” she joked.


He chuckled, too—an entirely pleasant sound.


“So what do you do for a living?” she asked, bending her knees and weaving her fingers together under her legs.


“Me?  I’m a lawyer,” he replied.


“Oh, I’m so sorry.”


He seemed genuinely confused by her apology.  “Sorry?”


She giggled.  “They say lawyers are boring, is all.  Then again, Valerie’s a lawyer, and she’s not boring . . . of course, that might be because I try to save her from herself, but I’m not sure . . .”


He chuckled softly.  “I see.”


“So are you?”


“Am I, what?”


“Are you boring?”


“Hopelessly, yes.”


“You mean you don’t have anyone to save you from yourself?”


“Nope,” he chuckled.  “I turn them all boring, too.”


She laughed.  “Somehow I doubt that.”


“Well . . .”


“Are you feeling better now?”


Madison could have kicked herself for having said that.  The easy laughter died away, and he cleared his throat as his gaze fell to the sand around his feet.  The random twitching in his ear hadn’t gone away though it had diminished somewhat.  He checked his watch, holding down the little switch that made the front glow in a pleasant aqua color, and winced.  “It’s nearly midnight,” he told her.


Madison frowned as she stared at the hanyou.  “Why don’t you have a concealment on?” she blurted before she could think about it.  True, when youkai gathered, concealments weren’t necessary, but since the wedding would involve some humans—mostly Valerie’s guests—everyone would have to remember to hide their youkai attributes before the guests arrived.


Mikio reached up, touched his ears, blushed as when he realized that she could see them.  “Oh, I, uh . . . it must have slipped.


“Yeah . . . sorry about that,” Madison apologized again.  Tumbling down a staircase, she supposed, would be a big enough shock to loosen the concealment, and she’d seen his ears then, too.


“About what?”


“The stairs,” she admitted as he stood up and brushed himself off before offering her a hand to help her to her feet.  Ordinarily she’d ignore such an archaic gesture of chivalry.  She slipped her hand into his and let him help her.


“Oh, that,” he mumbled.  “Not the first time I’ve fallen down the stairs.”


Something about his quiet admission made Madison stop for a moment.  He seemed almost angry . . . or was he more . . . resigned?  ‘Strange,’ she thought.  ‘Strange, indeed . . .’


“Looks like Evan’s at it again,” Madison remarked as the two neared the mansion.


Mikio sighed then shook his head.  “He’ll never learn.”


“Of course not.  I told V there’s no way he’d give up so easily.  She’s probably upstairs laughing at him.  I would be . . .”


“He was here earlier,” Mikio supplied, stopping to watch the entertainment.  Cain was standing on Valerie’s balcony, leaning over the railing to watch as Bas and Gavin tackled Evan to keep him from trying to climb up.  Gunnar ran around the side of the house, hollering something about impatient grooms with Morio close on his heels.  Mikio laughed.


“That’s just shameful,” Madison remarked but laughed anyway.


“He ought to give up.  I think Zelig-san’s going to sit outside Valerie’s door all night.”


“You think so?”


Mikio nodded.  “Papa says it’s because Zelig-san was forced to sleep at Kichiro-nii’s house before his wedding . . . if he had to suffer, so do his sons.”


“You mean there’s a method to the madness?”


“So it would seem.”


Madison laughed and reluctantly made a face.  “Thanks for the walk, Mikio.  I think I’ll check on Valerie, grab my phone, and head home.  I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”


He blinked and shook his head.  “Tomorrow?”


“Yes, tomorrow . . . the wedding?”


“Oh, yes, that . . . okay.”


Madison turned to leave but stopped when the resistance in her arm brought her up short.  She was still holding Mikio’s hand.  Letting go with a mumbled apology, she crossed her arms over her chest and hurried toward the mansion, willing herself not to blush as she stepped into the light spilling through the windows from the great glass doors.  Drawing a deep breath, she pushed the doors open and strolled into the house, unaware of the bright golden eyes that watched her hasty retreat.


“I almost feel sorry for Evan,” Valerie commented without turning away from the window when Madison slipped into her room.  Staring down at the spectacle that resembled a football game, she was smiling as she shook her head and sighed.  “Almost.”


“He’s earned it,” Madison agreed, grabbing her cell phone before wandering over to grimace at the pile of bodies wiggling around on the yard below.  “That just looks wrong.”


“It does, doesn’t it?  I figured you’d be back for your cell.”


“Uh oh . . . looks like they’ve gotten caught,” Madison mused as InuYasha, with Toga and Ryomaru in tow, stomped into view.  The hanyou reached down to yank someone to his feet.  He got pulled into the fray, too.  Minutes later, the mass of dogs in the pile had grown.  Madison caught sight of Cain on the balcony.  The youkai shook his head and sat back in a plastic lawn chair, kicking his feet up on the railing as he knotted his hands together behind his neck.  If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was grinning, though it was impossible to tell for certain.


“I’ve got to hear this,” Valerie said, nimble fingers working the lock before she pushed the window open.


Madison wrinkled her nose at the hot air that invaded the air-conditioned room but she leaned forward to listen, too.


“Will you let go, damn it!” InuYasha snarled at someone.


“Oi, jiji!  That’s me!” Ryomaru growled back.


“Then get the hell outta my way!”


“All right, whoever’s got their hand on my ass had better move it . . .” Morio growled.


“That’s your ass?  Damn, it’s fucking huge!” Evan scoffed.


“Baka, you’re not going to make it to your own wedding if you don’t move your kami-forsaken hand!”


“That has to be one of the strangest families I’ve ever met,” Madison remarked as she pushed on the window sill, rising up to peer over Valerie’s head toward the beach . . . toward the place where she’d left Mikio standing.  He was still there, hands in pockets, and while she couldn’t see his face where he stood, she had the feeling that he, too, was laughing.


“I’m sure everyone thinks that about their future in-laws,” Valerie replied.  “It’ll be no different for you.”


“Don’t curse me,” Madison said.


“Curse you?  So I didn’t see you walking up from the beach with Evan’s uncle?”


Madison snorted and turned around.  “Well, look!  I found my cell phone, and I think I’ll be going now.”


“You’re such a chicken,” Valerie pointed out.


“I am not.  You’re just crazy.  I think your wedding dress is a little too tight.  It’s been cutting off the oxygen supply to your brain.”


“He’s not really your type, is he?” Valerie pressed, giving up all pretenses about watching the scuffle in the yard below as she peeked over her shoulder.


“What do you mean?” Madison asked, unable to repress the hint of defensiveness in her tone as she slowly turned to face Valerie again.


Valerie waved a hand dismissively.  “Just not that flashy, you know?  He’s like . . . the anti-rockstar.”


“He’s nice.”


Tuning away from the window, Valerie crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the frame.  “So?”


“So, what?”


Eyes sparkling as she grinned at her friend, Valerie shrugged in a show of deliberate nonchalance.  “So was holding his hand nice, too?”


Madison whipped around before Valerie got a chance to see the heightened color in her skin.  “You’ve lost your mind,” she grumbled.


“Details, Maddy!  Did you kiss him?”


“Night, V,” she grumbled as she reached for the doorknob and gave it a rather vicious twist.


“Was it nice?”


“I wouldn’t know because I didn’t kiss him,” Maddy shot back.




“It’s not too late to find another maid of honor,” she tossed over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.  She could hear the muffled sound of Valerie’s soft laughter and grimaced.


He’s not really your type, is he?


Scowling as she strode down the hallway to the staircase, she sighed.  ‘No,’ she agreed, smiling sadly at the memory of the way he’d looked, sitting on the beach in the moonlight.  ‘He’s really not my type at all . . .’






“Kami, that was harsh.”


Mikio chuckled as Morio flopped onto his back in the grass beside him.  “Evan finally give up?”


Morio shot him a dark look.  “Are you kidding?”


Mikio shrugged.  “You’d think he would.”


“You’d think . . .”


Leaning up on his elbows, Morio let his head fall back to gaze up at the stars.  “So why are you out here instead of inside with everyone else?”


Mikio sighed and idly fingered his left ear.  “Just . . . quieter.”


“So . . . I noticed you were talking to that girl . . . umm . . .” Morio asked, rolling his hand in an effort to remember the name in question then snapping his fingers when it apparently came to him.  “Madison, wasn’t it?”


“Yeah,” he agreed then grimaced, glancing around in a decidedly nervous sort of way.  “Did . . . anyone else notice?”


Morio nodded.  “Nope . . . Don’t worry . . . In all the chaos, I’m pretty sure that no one else saw the two of you together.  They were kind of busy at the time.”


Mikio nodded.  “Good.”


“She’s a sweet girl . . . a little wild, but nice enough.”




Morio shrugged.  “Well, she is Evan’s friend.”


“I see.”  He tugged a handful of grass and watched as the blades slipped through his fingers only to fall softly back to earth again.  “She’s . . . pretty . . . don’t you think?”


“Maddy?  Sure . . . yeah . . .”


Mikio grimaced as the first rumble of faraway thunder rumbled in the air.  “You, uh . . . think . . . she and Evan . . .?”


Morio sat up, scratching the back of his neck as he considered Mikio’s question.   “I don’t know . . . does it matter?”


Mikio wrinkled his nose as he fought down a furious blush and shook his head.  “No . . . no . . . I just wondered.”


Morio sighed.  “You’d be hard-pressed to find a virgin in this day and age, especially among youkai.  Thank your brother for that, I guess . . .”


Scowling at the rapidly clouding sky, Mikio nodded.  “I know.  It’s not . . . I’m not interested; I just . . .” He trailed off with a wince.  “Yeah.”


He could feel Morio staring at him, even if he stubbornly refused to look for confirmation.  “Not interested, huh?”




Morio chuckled.  “Mikio, it’s okay be interested.  Any single man with a pulse would be interested in a girl who looks like Madison Cartham.”


That comment didn’t actually comfort Mikio; not at all.  The first droplets of rain hit his face, his bared arms.  “It doesn’t matter.  I’m going back home in a couple days, anyway.”


Morio sighed and slowly got to his feet.  “‘Course you are.”


Mikio shrugged.  “And she . . . she’ll go back to New York City.  That’s where she said she lives.”


Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Morio flicked his ears to shake off the descending moisture.  “Mhmm.”


“So I won’t see her again after the wedding.”


“Probably not.”


“Unless I went to the city, and why would I do that?”


Wisely stifling his amusement behind a well-placed cough, Morio shrugged.  “No need to convince me, Mikio.”


“I-I know.”


“Unless it isn’t me you’re trying to convince.”


Mikio didn’t answer as Morio shuffled back toward the mansion.  He was lost in contemplation of the girl with the violet eyes.



<<< 001: Spreading the Love

 003: The Favor >>>



Final Thought from Morio:

Violet eyes


Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Anomaly):  I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga.  Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al.  I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.


posted by Sueric at 11:58 pm  

Sunday, April 27, 2014

P10: 01: Spreading the Love

~~Chapter 1~~

~Spreading the Love~




“Spit it out, Maddy,” Valerie Denning—soon to be Valerie Zelig—said as she glanced up from brushing her hair to meet the steady gaze of her best friend and maid of honor.


“Oh, please tell me you’re not going to do it,” Madison Cartham groaned, wrinkling her impish little nose melodramatically.


“Of course I’m going to do it,” Valerie scoffed. “I adore Evan—even when he’s being a big, fat jerk.”


Madison snorted indelicately, tugging the brush from Valerie’s slack hand and dragging it through her glossy blonde locks. “As if I didn’t know that.”


“Then what?”


“You know what. You’re not seriously going to try lay a guilt trip on me, are you?”


Valerie cleared her throat and blinked innocently. “A guilt trip? Over what?”


“Over the fact that I’m single, and happily so.”


Valerie made a face and shrugged. “Would I do such a thing?”


The brush paused mid-stroke, and Madison heaved a sigh. “I believe you would; yes.”


“Oh, ye of little faith.”


“Come off it, V. It’s a documented fact that people in love tend to make it their mission to hook up all their single friends, regardless of whether said-friends want it or not—and the happier and more disgustingly in love the couple is, the more likely they are to try to play Cupid.”


Disgustingly in love?” Valerie echoed with a little grin.


“Absolutely disgusting,” Madison agreed amiably.


“Well, I wouldn’t do any such thing,” Valerie protested, feigning a hurt expression that was completely ruined by the soft giggle that slipped from her. “Then again, would it be so bad? Just think about it—a steady man to do all those things for you that you hate doing, coming home to the same person every night—someone who knows you and adores you . . . worships the ground you walk on . . .”


Madison set the brush aside and picked up a rattail comb. “Oh, my God, it sounds worse when you put it that way,” she maintained, carefully dividing off a section of hair before jamming the comb between her teeth and reaching for a large plastic curler.


“It’d be nice to see you settled down and happy.”


“You’wah foahgetting one fink,” Madison grumbled around the comb.


“Oh? And what’s that?”


“My fafah.”


“Your father’s a pushover.”


Madison paused long enough to roll her eyes as she pulled the comb from her mouth and parted another section of hair. “Not with guys he isn’t, or did you forget that he’s got enough guns and ammunition to wage a small war?”


Valerie laughed as she pulled her notebook and pen from the table and idly tapped the pen’s cap against her lips. “You make it sound like your father’s stockpiling for a hostile takeover,” she pointed out idly then quickly shook her head. “Let’s see . . . I double checked the caterers, called the florist to make sure everything was set, had the final fitting for my dress this morning . . . Did I forget anything?”


Madison blinked a few times and slowly shook her head. “You know, Evan’s probably sitting at Bas’ house trying to figure out a way to escape.”


Valerie spared a moment to peer up at Madison’s face to see whether or not her friend was being serious. “He can be good for one night,” she remarked.


Madison giggled at the hint of foreboding in Valerie’s tone. “And I’m going to go join a convent right after your wedding,” she scoffed.


“I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”


Rolling her eyes, Madison snorted indelicately. “Yup. I went in to have my habit fitted while you were stuffing yourself into that sausage casing you like to call a wedding dress.”


Valerie choked on a giggle since she was the one who had aptly dubbed the dress she’d chosen as the sausage casing from hell. Skin tight to the hips where the skirt flared out around her in a billowing mass of silk and chiffon, she had grumbled more than once that she wasn’t sure what she was thinking when she’d bought the dress just weeks before. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Her mother liked the dress, too . . . “Figured I’d make Evan work for it.”


“He’s got claws, you know.”


Valerie ducked her chin as a heated flush broke over her skin. “Oh, I know he does.”


Madison laughed. “Anyway, what was the verdict about the piercings?”


Valerie sighed. “His father said that he had to take them out for the wedding since the generals are going to be there, but you know Evan . . . I wouldn’t be surprised if he leaves at least one or two in, just to irritate Cain.”


“Just make sure he keeps the tongue one in.”


“That goes without saying.”


“Like it, do you?”


Valerie grinned. “Just a little.”


“So where is he taking you on your honeymoon?”


Her friend’s smile faded, and Valerie grunted in response. “You mean he didn’t tell you?” she asked, looking more than a little hopeful.


Madison shook her head. “Actually, no. He said I’d tell you.”


Valerie’s lips twitched though she didn’t smile. “Well, you would.”


Rolling her eyes, Madison didn’t deny the claim. “Of course I would.”


“Because you love me.”


Madison giggled. “Damn right. Unfortunately, Evan knows that, too. So why did you think I’d know?” She shrugged, securing the last curler in place before dropping the comb onto the table top and brushing her hands together.


“Figured you’d have weaseled it out of him by now,” Valerie admitted.


“Nope . . . he’s being uncharacteristically stubborn about this.” Madison stepped back, satisfied with the task of setting Valerie’s hair. “I’ll be over tomorrow to take those out and arrange your hair. Touch it and die, woman—understand?”


Valerie laughed and stood up, hurrying to hug Madison before she could take her leave. “You sure you won’t stay here tonight?”


Madison laughed and kissed Valerie’s cheek with an obscenely loud pop. “I’d love to stay and wax nostalgic with you, dear, but I promised I’d help Daddy clean his guns tonight.”


Valerie stopped and shot her friend a quizzical glance. “You’re not serious, are you?”


Madison sighed, unsure whether it was more depressing that she really wasn’t kidding or that she had actually agreed to it.


“He hasn’t gotten the baby a gun yet, has he?”


Madison grinned, mostly because baby that Valerie was referencing wasn’t even born yet. Cartham hadn’t said as much, but Kelly had remarked to her earlier that her father had been absolutely thrilled when he had found out that they were expecting a boy—Madison’s as-yet unseen brother. “No, but I’m sure it’s coming soon, even if Mom objects on principle.”

It was something that most people really didn’t understand, she supposed. Closing the bedroom door behind herself as she paused in the dim hallway long enough to allow her eyes time to adjust, Madison figured that for folks who didn’t know Deke Cartham, it would be hard to explain. Her earliest memories were of standing by her father’s knee while he slowly, methodically cleaned and oiled his guns. At least he’d waited until she could walk before taking her outside and lining up soda cans along the fence. He slipped earphones over her tiny head, pulled her into his arms, helped her steady the small pistol, and he’d taught her how to fire the weapon.


Girls don’t learn how to fight. Protection is a man’s job,” he’d told her. “But I’d be worthless, wouldn’t I, if I didn’t teach you how to survive.”


She smiled as she hurried down the hallway, digging her car keys out of her purse without pausing in her stride. For her high school graduation gift, her father had given her a Colt .45, and not just any Colt .45 but the same one she’d first learned how to fire—her father’s favorite gun.


So absorbed in her memories, so bemused by the trip down memory lane, that all the talk of weddings and stuff inspired in her, Madison wasn’t paying attention as she rounded the corner and ran toward the stairs.


A whoosh of breath, a grunt escaped her as she barreled into a solid chest. The scream that welled in her throat slipped out but was bit off as sinewy arms locked around her. She tumbled down the stairs with the stranger, unable to see more than a flash of silver, the blur of motion.


They smacked into the banister on the middle landing, and the unseen face of the man she’d run down finally came into focus. Madison grimaced as she pushed herself up on her elbows, curiously eyeing him, unable to stop her blatant perusal. Golden eyes . . . silver hair . . . little white hanyou ears . . . He was unmistakably Izayoi, and dizzily, headily, she felt her heart skip a beat only to hammer hard against her ribcage like a wild thing trying to escape its confines. The man had yet to let go of her, not that she really minded. Still, propriety reared its ugly head, and she blushed. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.


“N-No, it was m-my fault,” he stammered as blood rushed into his cheeks in late response to the predicament they found themselves in.


Madison blinked and tried not to let her blush darken. “No, really . . . it was mine . . . I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I didn’t realize you were coming upstairs . . .”


He blinked, too, pink tingeing his cheeks. “Oh . . . I . . . your eyes . . .” he said quietly.


“My eyes?”


He winced as the pink darkened to a rosy red. “They’re beautiful.”


“Th-Thank you . . .”


He grimaced, casting her an almost apologetic sort of glance. “You’re . . . poking me . . .”




Gasping as she realized she was, indeed, poking her keys into his stomach, she jerked her hand back and bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”


“Did I . . . hurt . . . you?” he asked, letting go of her at last and slowly climbing to his feet, offering his hand to help her up.


“I’m youkai; I’m tough,” she said, her voice almost reedy as she offered him a wan smile.


He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “I-I’m Izayoi Mikio,” he said with a low bow. “H-Hajimemashite douzo yoroshiku.”


“Oh,” she breathed with a little nod. “I know. I’m Madison—Madison Cartham . . . maid of honor, I suppose.” She giggled suddenly, and Mikio’s frown deepened. Waving her wrist, she covered her mouth with her free hand. “I met you before, a long, long time ago. I was just a child, though . . .”


He looked confused for a few seconds, then he shot her an uncertain little smile that was gone about as quickly as it had appeared. “Hmm, yeah . . . Evan’s friend?”


She grinned at the quizzical look on his face. “And Valerie’s.”


“Understood.” He cleared his throat as though he were nervous. “Are you staying here tonight?”


“Actually, I was just leaving,” she replied, stepping back and nearly tumbling off the landing.   Mikio’s hand shot out to grab her wrist, and he let go as soon as she steadied herself with a hand on the banister.


His cheeks reddened a little more. “Oh . . . right . . .”


She shot him a contrite smile. “Sorry again . . . I wasn’t really trying to maim you or anything.”


Mikio grimaced. “I’ve taken worse falls than that.”


“It was nice meeting you,” she remarked with a smile.


He nodded and bowed again. “Likewise.”


Madison turned and hurried down the stairs, heart thundering in her ears as she bit her bottom lip and made a beeline toward the front doors.


Heat lightning illuminated the cloudy skies as Madison strode to her car. Pausing with her hand poised on the door handle, she lifted her face up to the heavens and frowned. The past few days had been hideously hot, almost humid, and she hoped that it would rain. ‘V’s wedding needs to be perfect. Sweating on your big day is bad form, after all . . .’


As if in answer to her silent musings, a gust of wind blew off the ocean, and she could almost feel the rising humidity that bespoke a healthy rain.


Letting her gaze fall away from the sky, Madison gasped, her heart lurching wildly in her chest as she caught sight of the lone form in the second story window—the window she knew was at the end of the hallway. She wasn’t sure if Mikio could see her staring back at him or not. Slowly, hesitantly, she waved. His silhouette straightened, and he lifted his hand to return the gesture.


Your eyes . . . They’re beautiful . . .”


A sudden giggle bubbled up in her, spilled out into the night as she opened the car door and slid behind the steering wheel.






Mikio stared up at the starry, inky sky and heaved a sigh as his right ear flattened against his head. The left one twitched madly—the aftereffects of the dizzy spell that landed him flat on his back. He grimaced, willing the appendage to still. The twitch worsened.


“Holy damn, Mikio,” Evan Zelig said as he leaned over, hands on knees, peering down at Mikio’s face. “That was a hell of a fall.”


“I didn’t . . . notice,” Mikio lied, wincing as he tried to ignore his twitching ear.


“Didn’t notice?” Evan echoed incredulously as he sank down on the grass beside his uncle. “If you say so . . .”


Mikio made a face. “You can stay out of her room for one night, can’t you?” he asked, waving his limp hand in the vague direction of the third story balcony that Evan had been trying to reach.


Evan grinned unrepentantly. “You’re assuming that she wants me to stay out.”


“Nee-chan said it’s bad luck for you to see Denning-san before the wedding.”


The grin widened. “The hell you say! Bad luck would be me, standing at the altar with a boner. I think the neighbors would gossip about that . . .”


Mikio rolled his eyes and started to sit up only to flop back when the stars started spinning overhead. He sighed, willing the dizziness to pass. “You don’t possess even a modicum of shame, do you?”




“There you are. Come on, you little ass.”


Mikio shifted his eyes to the side, catching sight of Evan’s older brother as Sebastian rounded the corner of the mansion. Spotting Mikio lying on the ground, Bas stopped for a moment and shook his head before loping over to them and slapping Evan across the back of the head before sinking down between Evan and Mikio. “Trying to sneak in Valerie’s window, were you?”


Evan laughed, rubbing his head as he shrugged. “Like you thought I wouldn’t?”


Bas snorted. “Pfft! I knew you would. I just didn’t think you’d sabotage me. You’ve reached new lows, Evan.”


“Dunno what you’re talking about, Bubby . . .”


“You mean Evan has even lower lows?” Gunnar Inutaisho drawled as he and Gavin Jamison slipped out of the shadows on the other side of the assembled men. Gunnar sat down, too, and Gavin knelt, leaning his weight on his forearms placed on his knees.


Mikio managed to push himself up and hooked his hands around his legs, letting his forehead drop against his knees for a minute as he regained his composure.


“What’d you do this time?” Gavin asked in an almost foreboding tone of voice.


Bas crossed his arms over his chest and snorted again as he frowned at his sibling.


Evan scratched his head. “You should be glad, you know. You got to benefit from it, after all.”


Bas rolled his eyes. “That’s hardly the point.”


Evan grinned once more. “So I don’t see the problem.”


“What did you do?” Gavin asked calmly.


“Nothing . . . just slipped Sydnie some catnip.”


Gunnar whistled. “Yep, that’s low, all right,” he agreed. “Low enough that I’d slap you across the back of the head if I were Bas.”


“He already did that,” Evan grumbled, taking a step away from his brother for good measure.


“If we beat the hell out of him tonight, do you think that he’d make it to his wedding tomorrow?” Gunnar mused. “After all, it’s not like he hasn’t already had sex, so it wouldn’t really be anything new to him . . .”


“Speak for yourself, asshole,” Evan grouched.


“Tell me again: how did you trick a level-headed girl like Valerie into marry you?”


He grinned unrepentantly. “See, she likes my tongue ring . . .”


“Oh, hell, you walked right into that,” Gavin said with a wince as he slapped Gunnar’s shoulder amicably.


“Yeah, he did,” Evan gloated.


“Definitely asking for a beating,” Gunnar contended.


Evan rolled his eyes as Bas turned thoughtful. “You know, that’s not a bad idea . . .” Bas mused slowly, scratching his chin as he stared at his sibling.


“There will be no beating on your brother, Bas,” Cain stated as he stepped out of the glass doors from the living room and glanced over his shoulder to ascertain exactly where his mate was. She must have been well out of earshot for his next comment, though. “But if you do, don’t leave any marks where your mother might see them.”


“Fork it over, old man,” Morio Izayoi remarked, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers as Cain grimaced but reached into his pocket for his wallet.


“I said an hour,” Cain grouched as he fished out a fifty dollar bill and slapped it into Morio’s waiting palm.


“And I said ‘less’.”


“You were betting on me?” Evan demanded, alternating his incredulous stare between his father and his cousin.


“Yes,” Cain said evenly, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket once more, “and you just cost me fifty bucks.”


“We should have gotten in on that one,” Gunnar muttered to Gavin. Gavin nodded sagely.


Morio chuckled, stowing the money into his pocket as he reached down to help Mikio to his feet. “You all right?”


Mikio nodded, clenching his jaw and ignoring Morio’s offer of assistance as he slowly stood, grimacing at the stiff soreness in his shoulders. Slipping away from the gathering since they could keep Evan from scaling the mansion in order to sneak into the bride-to-be’s room, he trudged toward the doors, blinking as the brighter light blinded him momentarily.


He appreciated their understated show of support, of course. Ever since he could remember, they’d all sat down whenever he’d ended up flat on his back. Lately, however, it had begun to grate on his nerves. They shouldn’t have had to do such a thing, should they? Mikio sighed. Best not to think about it, he decided. ‘Damn it . . .’


Cain watched him leave before slowly turning back to eye his sons. “What happened?” he asked.


Evan grimaced.


“He caught you trying to sneak in Valerie’s window, right?” Gavin guessed.


“Somethin’ like that,” Evan grumbled. “He leapt up after me and lost his balance . . .”


Cain rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Another dizzy spell?”


“It wasn’t my fau—Yes, sir,” Evan replied, catching the darkening in his father’s gaze.


“Mikio’s fine,” Gunnar cut in, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets as he slouched against the solid trunk of a very old white ash tree.


“Getting dizzy and falling over constantly isn’t really fine,” Cain remarked mildly, digging a cigarette out of a rumpled pack he carried in his breast pocket.


“Yeah, well, he mentioned something before,” Gunnar went on, turning his gaze skyward. “Said that Gome-oba-chan and Yasha-jiji used to argue about that a lot. I think he just stopped talking about it to keep them from fighting.”


“They fought over his dizzy spells?” Cain asked.


Gunnar shrugged. “Sure. I vaguely remember my parents talking about it. Gome-oba-chan thought that Mikio had problems with his inner ear.”


“And InuYasha didn’t?” Gavin put in.


“Not exactly. I don’t remember . . . I wasn’t very old then, myself. I remember that Gome-oba-chan brought Mikio over, and we were playing with Kubrick while she talked to Mother . . . He had some sort of testing done, and Yasha-jiji made them stop when Mikio got scared, or so I seem to recall hearing . . . I was about three, I think, so Mikio was about five, I guess . . .”


“Oh, yeah . . . I remember that,” Morio added as he stared up at the stars high overhead. “Mama and the old man used to talk about that some. Guess everyone was disagreeing about it at the time.”


“Ryomaru agreed with InuYasha,” Cain supposed.


Morio shrugged. “Actually, no. Oyaji said that baa-chan was right. It’d be better to see if something could be done while Mikio was still young.”


“Didn’t they do some sort of testing?” Bas questioned, grabbing Evan’s arm and yanking him back when the latter tried to sneak away.


“The MRI,” Cain agreed absently. Kagome had called to talk to Gin about the entire ordeal. He remembered the sadness on Gin’s face as she recounted the tale for him later. Mikio hadn’t reacted well when faced with the machine that he was supposed to lie in for an hour or more while the doctors got a good look at his ears, and InuYasha, who had never been fond of anyone messing with his ears, had apparently broken the door down in his haste to get to his son, to save Mikio from the evil machine . . .


Cain sighed. He didn’t blame InuYasha, actually. Had it been one of his pups, he probably would have done the same thing. The instinct to protect was a fierce thing; a difficult thing to ignore, and with InuYasha’s background of fighting, of being an outcast, it wasn’t surprising that the desire to protect his own was so strong.


Of course, it would be a cold day in hell before Cain ever admitted that he respected his father-in-law in that . . .


“Come on, Evan. You might as well spend the night at my house,” Gunnar said with a sigh, pushing himself away from the tree.


Evan looked like he was going to protest until he caught his father’s scrutinizing gaze. “Can I at least say good night to her?” he complained.


Cain rolled his eyes and pushed Evan’s shoulder, sending his son stumbling after his cousin. Gunnar chuckled and grabbed Evan’s arm when the groom-to-be tried to veer off toward the mansion again.


Gavin shook his head. “You know, I don’t think he’s going to give up that easily.”


Bas nodded. “Hell, no . . . He’ll be back.”


Cain chuckled, breathing in a last drag off his cigarette before he tossed it away. “As if you didn’t sneak into Sydnie’s room.”


Bas grinned and rubbed the back of his neck as he ducked his head shyly. “That was completely different, Dad.”


“How so?”


He shrugged. “She was already my mate.”






“Mama says you’re still having those dizzy spells,” Gin commented a little too casually as she scrubbed the white marble counter by the kitchen sink.


“Did she?” Mikio muttered, trying not to fidget under his sister’s scrutiny.


Gin nodded as she rinsed the sponge and wrung it out. “She said that you won’t talk to her about them, though.”


“They’re not that bad.”


“‘Bad’ is a matter of perception, Mikio. Mama just worries about you.”


He grimaced and dug around in the refrigerator for a bottle of water. “It’s nothing,” he grumbled.


Gin dropped the sponge into the sink and turned around, leaning against the counter as she crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with her entirely too-discerning gaze. “I know you hated that Mama and Papa disagreed about it when you were a pup, but they both want what’s best for you—you know that, right?”


Ear twitching as he made slow work of swallowing a few gulps of water, Mikio couldn’t quite meet Gin’s pointed stare, either. “With all due respect, I hardly think that it’s really that important. I’m not a pup anymore.”


“And if you think that Mama and Papa stop worrying about their children just because we’re not pups anymore, then you’re wrong,” she remarked.


“They worry a little too much.”


“It’s only because we love you,” Kagome remarked as she breezed into the kitchen, making a beeline toward her youngest son. Mikio winced as Kagome hugged him and kissed his cheek.


“Mama . . .” he protested, suddenly feeling like a child getting ready for his first day of school. ‘Come to think of it,’ he thought with an inward sigh, ‘I sort of sound like one, too . . .’


“Will you get off it, wench? The last thing the pup needs is you hanging all over him,” InuYasha grumbled as he stomped into the kitchen, repeating the process that Kagome had just done, but his target was his only daughter. Gin giggled softly and kissed her father’s cheek.


“I’m not hanging all over him,” Kagome shot back before turning her deep brown eyes on Mikio once more. Her expression registered obvious concern, and Mikio braced himself for whatever his mother had on her mind. “You look peaked, Mikio. Maybe you should go on to bed.”


“I’m fine,” he replied, striving to keep the hint of irritation out of his tone—the same irritation that was becoming harder and harder to hide.


“I’m sure that everyone will understand. You really hated the airplane ride, didn’t you?” Kagome went on, fussing idly with Mikio’s bangs.


InuYasha snorted. “Kami, wench, I think Mikio’s old enough to decide if and when he should go to bed, don’t you?”


“I’m just worried, dog-boy!” she shot back.


Mikio shook his head as the argument escalated. Flattening his ears against his skull, he slipped out of the kitchen and strode toward the front door as quickly and quietly as he could.


He couldn’t remember a time when it wasn’t like that. It seemed to him that his mother and father spent far too much time at odds with each other over him than they did getting along. Gin had always maintained that InuYasha and Kagome seemed to enjoy arguing. Still, Mikio couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the raised voices, the tension . . . it was completely his fault. If Mikio sneezed, Kagome was convinced that he needed to be lying in bed with a mountain of blankets and lots of soup. InuYasha, on the other hand, would tell his wife to stop being a mother hen and to let Mikio have room to breathe, and it always—always—ended up in one of those arguments.


Grabbing the door handle and giving it a vicious yank, Mikio nearly barreled straight into the woman who was standing in the doorway with her hand poised to knock. Brilliant violet eyes locked with his, questions awash in her gaze, and she looked rather surprised, though whether that was because he was obviously irritated or because of his sudden appearance before she could knock, he wasn’t certain.


As quickly as his irritation had come, it was gone. The woman smiled—eyes shining like the stars he’d been staring at earlier after trying to keep Evan from scaling the mansion walls—and for just a moment, Mikio forgot to breathe.


“Hi again,” Madison said, her voice soft yet sure.




 02: Charity Case >>>




Hajimemashite douzo yoroshiku:Pleased to meet you. Please take care of me”, basically.  The standard greeting when one first meets someone.  In this case, Mikio doesn’t realize that he has met Madison before, and even then, he was never formally introduced to her, either.

Kubrick: Japanese Lego.  They’re the same thing lol.

Baa-chan: Grandma.  All of the Japanese children would call Kagome this (her grandchildren, anyway).  Gunnar takes after Toga and calls her Gome-oba-chan (Aunt Gome).  Note: Gunnar addresses his mother as “Mother” because she’s American and that’s what he was taught.

Yasha-jiji: Gunnar’s address for InuYasha, basically, he’s calling him ‘old man’.  InuYasha’s grandsons address him as ‘jiijii’ (really old man lol).  This is also considered a rude way to address and older man.

Oyaji: There is some debate on this term as some people will translate it as ‘dad’ or ‘pops’.  Many, however, would actually translate this more as ‘old man’ in reference to one’s father. Considered to be fairly rude, one would not use this address for more formal family settings.  For example, Toga would never, ever call Sesshoumaru this, and for that matter, Gunnar would not use this for Toga, either.  Ryomaru, Kichiro, and Morio would use this form of address for their respective fathers.

== == == == == == == == == ==

Final Thought from Mikio:



Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Anomaly):  I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga.  Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al.  I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.


posted by Sueric at 11:57 pm  

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Happy Holidays

Ah, it’s that time of year again … time for snow and carolers and all that happy crap … Around here? Well, I’ve been pretty busy. Those who have been on the forum know that I have been having some things going on with my family, namely my daddy. He’s been in the hospital since before Thanksgiving, and he seems to be doing a little better every day, so thank you to everyone who has taken a moment to send up a little prayer for him!



I wanted to give a few updates as to what, exactly, I’ve been doing with writing. As many of you know, I’ve been heavily editing the existing chapters of Desideratum (yes, Desideratum). I’ve got a chapter done and in beta at present (look for it in the next few days). I’ve decided that I really like the premise of this story, so I’m going to continue it as a divergence instead of the usual continuation. Originally, I stopped posting to see what Ms. Takahashi was going to do to my beloved characters as the manga seemed to be winding down. After she finished it, however, I thought that I couldn’t continue because she’d wrapped everything up so wonderfully already. It was one of those rare moments when I felt as though everything I’d hoped for came to pass. But because of that, I wasn’t entirely sure I could do anything with Desideratum because, I’ll be honest, I don’t LIKE non-canon and am a firm believer that the original author must be respected. It is, after all, her work.



That said, I spent the Thanksgiving weekend re-reading Chronicles. And I thoroughly enjoyed it. I will confess, I’d forgotten a lot of it, so it was like reading a story I’d never read before (seriously), and I was so thirsty for more InuYasha/Kagome fluff that I did what I never, ever thought I’d do: I re-read Metamorphosis—and I was able to do so without the negative feelings that had followed me around for so long with that story. I was able to look at it the way I’d wanted to all along, and, yes, I actually felt a bit proud of what I’d managed to accomplish with it. Yes, I know, it needs some editing here and there, and maybe I’ll get to that eventually, however ..



As I was reading those stories, this thought kept nagging at me. I kept thinking, ‘I miss those two. I miss writing those two. I miss the distinctive relationship they have, and no matter what the circumstances, they always—always—make me laugh.’ Then I started to consider the parts of the story that cannot work, given the framework of Takahashi’s original and completed work. Well, I realized that with some minor tweaking and one major divergence, it could still work. I tried to figure out if I actually could use the rest of the manga and just re-write to be a real continuation, buuuuuuut …



So bearing in mind that the divergence occurs within Desideratum just after the fight with Naraku and before Kagome gets sucked into the Shikon no Tama, I’ve decided to do what makes ME happy… and continue this story, after all. Now, the plan at present is to finish Purity 9: Subterfuge (there really isn’t a lot left …. Not sure if people realize this or not), and then I’m going to take a (gasp!!) Purity break long enough to devote my time to telling the story of Desideratum before I go back to pick up where I left off with Purity 10: Anomaly, Purity 11 (the enigma lol), and Purity 12: Rebirth. I also plan on working the rest of the original Purity rewrites into the scheme of things, as well but that’s secondary. I feel compelled to work on Desideratum right now. (I know; I know … never say ‘never’, right?)



Sooooo … is there anything I can tell you about Desideratum? Firstly and most importantly, please do take the time to read the edits. There have been a number of changes to make the story fit into canon as well as some other things that I changed … just because. Not as important but noteworthy is that InuYasha’s last name in present day has been changed to something more befitting: Akamori (red forest), and, because I didn’t like the name Renzomori, his name is now “Sora”, which means sky. It was almost Kuro but that sounded odd, given his looks lol. I’m pretty sure that Sora will be a character that no one expects—I hope. I think you’ll be surprised when you learn who he really is… maybe.



Another thing worth noting is that, starting with Purity 10 (I haven’t decided on whether or not to do so with Desideratum), new chapters will appear here in my blog a day or two before being posted on Media Miner. The reason for this is because of some site issues that keep popping up there, and no one seems to be willing or able to fix them, so I’m not entirely sure how long that site will be around. So saying, I am trying to encourage people to read the site instead. Comments should be easy to leave here, too. I believe that the site here is set up to require registration, and the first comment you post will be monitored to keep from allowing spam bots and stuff to post freely. After your first comment is approved, however, I THINK that any future comments will post automatically. I think. Lol, I’ll have to check into that …



Thanks for those who helped pay for the server costs. With my dad’s health and my husband’s cut hours at work, we simply don’t have the money to pay for them. We’re still accepting donations because there’s a third server as well as some domain renewals to pay, but the main site is paid for already.



I want to wish everyone a merry holiday season and lots of love. Prayers for my daddy are still very welcome, and I hope that you all have a safe and happy Christmas and New Year!

posted by Sueric at 12:27 am  

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

New Fanart Added!

Just a really cute sketch of Mikio!  Thanks, Chloe M!  😀



posted by Sueric at 3:17 am  

Friday, December 12, 2008

New Fanart Added

Unfortunately, I’m having trouble with Vista and Frontpage, so it’s going to take me a bit to get the fanart added to the right page, but I wanted to share this … also, the wallpaper for the last fanart was reuploaded in a larger size, so enjoy that, too!

Anyway, here’s another fantastic fanart by the very talented vayne!

Fragile Hearts by vayne

and another … this one is Mikio 🙂

Mikio by vayne


Again, I’ll add them to the colored fanart page … as soon as I figure out this *&$%#@ issue …


EDIT: Fanarts added now!  Enjoy!!!


posted by Sueric at 2:44 pm  

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