Raised by Moogles

My cousin had a baby! Well, my cousin's wife, heh. Anyway, it's a boy, seven pounds and fifteen ounces, and his name is (no shit) Jaxon.

Speaking of odd names, the wingthing got on a naming website and picked out a name for herself. She's now Pari, which apparently is Persian and means 'fairy eagle.' (Note that this is not her birth name.)

Also, two things that are awesome: Cracked.com's Why Megatron Should Have Fired Starscream Years Ago, and Advent Children Ghostbusters. I lol'd.

Or something pervy, either way. And speaking of the weekend- zomg so glad it's the weekend. *flopthud*

Anyway, my wingthing (see my default icon, or the banner at the top of my layout - that's her) has been making sad eyes at me, but I knew I'd never get her story written down anywhere near coherent. Soooo, I cheated and did the 50 sentences thing. ;) This is theme set Delta, but I rearranged the sentences into a rough chronological order.

( Read on! )

But I have angsty headchars being angsty at me, and vodka does nothing to banish them. And so I inflict upon you, dear readers, the birth of the wingthing. With special thanks to lunatron, who figured out how all this got started in the first place.

( The sky above Mission City that day was cloudless and clear... )

Before anyone says anything, yes, I am still working on springkink (three and a half prompts done! Eat that, bitches!) but I needed a break and my wingthing was making pathetic eyes at me. I can't resist the pathetic eyes.

( This happens before the thing with Barricade and Frenzy. )

But I'm bored again. And when I'm bored, the robots come out to play... This is another wingthing snippet, since in her own wibbly-eyed little way she refuses to leave.

( In which a meeting of the minds is reached. )

Wingthingfic, post-Movie. I don't think there's any spoilers (everyone knows the good guys win, right?), but just in case, if you're allergic to spoilers, steer clear.

( Saaaad little wingthing. )

In other news, I made my way down to Miamisuburg today to find a certain Renaissance garb shop. I found it after some searching, but it didn't look like it had what I needed bodice-wise. I still may get bloomers and a cloak from there, though.

This one actually had a very coherent narrative, which in no way makes it less cracktastic.

( Cut so that when people complain about the crack, I can tell them they didn't HAVE to click. )

And as a testament to my current state of utter patheticness, I am currently trying to figure out how to make this work in fic/comic form. Which means I am currently investing brainsweat in the pursuit of a plausible-sounding reason for a human to suddenly sprout Seekerwings. Which, okay, yeah, if a good artist snatched it up it'd look cool, but the story concept is a bit heavy on the crack even for me. WTF, brain.

Seekersquishie, take flight!

Seekersquishie looking despondent.

These next two are probably Becca's fault. Here's Megatron, here in an AU as The Emperor, sitting proudly in state...

...and Loligoth chibiRoddi.