Back from WCUK!
27 May 2012 18:26Well, it seems to have taken me nearly four hours, door to door, but then having a snooze on a sunny train with the windows open is one of the more pleasant ways to spend an afternoon, in my opinion. It was a lovely end to a lovely weekend; I feel so relaxed now, like I've been on a lovely holiday that did what holidays are supposed to do! Considering I've spent the week frazzled and sleepless and ill (as I've been telling everyone for the last couple of days, in my croaky voice, pitching in and out, I'm iiiiiiill...!!!), I feel very much rejuvenated.
Although, now I'm back inside after being out/on a ventilated rather than air conditioned train, I can feel the first scratchings of hay fever round my eyes... But I'm ignoring that for now.
We had many great talks/chitchats, including a workshop where we wrote an exciting bad!fic, complete with songs, for which I spent far, far too long playing with
kazzy_cee's iPad in my own little world. I'll put up the fruits of that when the whole of the fic-stravaganza can be enjoyed, but here also is something else: inspired by
speakr2customrs' talk on death in fanfic, a Beowulf-style epic-heroic death scene for Pingu (ish). (Although, now that I've looked up the episode which scarred me as a child and was clearly the inspiration for this - see below - I feel like I've been horrifically cruel...)
Although, now I'm back inside after being out/on a ventilated rather than air conditioned train, I can feel the first scratchings of hay fever round my eyes... But I'm ignoring that for now.
We had many great talks/chitchats, including a workshop where we wrote an exciting bad!fic, complete with songs, for which I spent far, far too long playing with
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Pingu vs. Ice Dragon. So Pingu ventured from his icy home To waddle through the snow, Antarctic mist - But there he found a dragon, claws like knives To freeze and tear the flesh of penguins brave. Still Pingu fought, with beak and magic spells: Great fire flared to burn the air with flame. And yet - the dragon roared, reared up, his eyes A charcoal black, too dark against the sky Before he fell upon the penguin, caught In fear, his feathers stiff. One strike, and then It was no more again that Pingu saw His mum and dad at home, the igloo's warmth; His body fell, its final KARK a sigh, Which whispered softly on the icy breeze. |