Nngh.

Nov. 13th, 2008 10:11 pm
clockwork_phoenix: (Default)
That was not a fun el-oh-el.

At first, I was unable to communicate with others, either through virtue of the translation effect malfunctioning, or.. I do not know. I was speaking nonsense either way. I could understand others, but I could not make them understand me verbally no matter how I tried.

Apparently, something was firing from brain to mouth correctly, as I was speaking words with the correct letters, just in the completely and utterly wrong order, in the letters' cases.

Anagrams.

The latter half of it was even less fun. My memories of it are still somewhat fuzzy, starting from a few hours before I changed.

I am not entirely sure what I was, except on top of the fact that I could no longer speak coherently at all, I could not think straight.

Such a concept disturbs me greatly and utterly, my mind wasn't my own, but at the same time it was a mere shadow of what it was.

Most of the events that happened while I was transformed are.. half formed memories.

The el-oh-el transmits itself like a virus. I have been cured thanks to the Doctor and as far as I can tell I am no longer capable of infecting others.

Also, if anyone sees Metody before I do, let me know he is okay? I.. don't remember seeing him except sometime before I changed.
clockwork_phoenix: (Default)
Bella's almighty claimed sideroom is one of the larger ones.

It is so, for a reason. Various mechanical objects and devices litter the room in parts, and in various states of completion, and off to one side is the start of a new portal generator. Bella's managed to clean off most of the black soot from where the first one exploded.

One might notice her sheets from her bed hanging outside her window for that same reason, as well as her more beat up clothing.

This is not, however, what she's doing currently.

As life is never dull for the average Spark (combined with, perhaps, a certain subset of Luck), Bella has a predicament.


"Look, I'll give you the wrench for it, how about that?"

Ding. Ding.

Ding the scorpionish-crab-clank is sitting on Bella's workbench, just out of reach, and he's carrying one of her left boots (Yes, she has more than one, the heeled one to go with the dress for that dance comes to mind). And Ding is holding it up triumphantly in all three claws, both arms and the tail. Having the beaming (n) expression. Ding!

"Then what do you want to trade for it?" Apparently, Bella's grown tired of chasing the Clank around for the boot. That little guy's fast when he needs to be.

Of course, into this comes another factor....

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Annabella Fennix, Lady to the House of Kintotech

March 2009

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