Blogathon Begins

Hello my friends and welcome to Blogathon 2008. This is where it starts. Wish me luck and hope we all survive the experience.

No, really my first post is meant to be this short.

Blogathon - Real Entry 1

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I think I'm going to start the morning off with blurb descriptions for the various things I'm writing. Here goes the first one:

Title: Cast-Iron Roses

Once upon a time, the king and queen of Edanna learned the hard way that hell hath no fury like a witch scorned, when a scruffy-looking sorceress cursed their infant daughter to death-by-spindle. Eventually, the death sentence was commuted to eternal slumber, but even so, the events of her birthday party cast a permanent pall over the princess’s life…until she turned sixteen and the curse came true.

That was 450 years ago. Princess Arabella wakes up to the world she knew gone forever and a new age of blended magic and technology having taken its place. She must learn to make her way in this world, as well as get to know the man who woke her with a kiss – a man all the stories tell her she should be immediately in love with.

Intended Readership: I'm thinking YA.

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The thinking process behind this: Even ignoring the older, darker versions of the Sleeping Beauty tale, it always struck me as weird that, here was this woman who'd been asleep for hundreds of years. Her world is gone, save one moldy old castle and its inhabitants. But no version of the story ever tells of her having to adjust. None of the culture shock; no anything.

The other concept behind this story comes from my fascination with Steampunk and frustration with the way many of the authors writing it have a serious case of 'ooh, shiny', foregoing things like, oh, nuanced characterization. So it is that Ara falls asleep in your standard medieval fantasy era, and wakes up in a Victorian Steampunk analogue.

Yes, I'm going to have to do shit-tons of research.

Incidentally, if someone has recommendations of Steampunk with awesome characterization, I'd seriously love to hear them.

Blogathon - Entry 2

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Question by ratatosk:

"Hey, I never heard what the results of your research project were!

If you can divulge them without compromising further data gathering, you should talk about that. :)"

( Answer )

Yes, I did crib some (though not all) of that from my final paper. But hey, I'm working on limited time here.

Blogathon - Entry 3

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"What Lily is writing," take two:

Title: Transients

Every day, the Grand Duchy teeters closer and closer to utter chaos. Whispers of revolution are in the air, as the Unseelie Court is flooded with decadence while the poor barely get enough food to survive, let alone work magic. The current Duke is old and out of touch. Hope for a peaceful succession rests on his grandson - who has been exiled to Earth decades ago, stripped of his powers and memories and forced to live as a mortal.

Finally, an old friend of his is sent after him, to bring him back in hopes of averting disaster. But savvy as she is at court, Lady Rue may be no match for the utterly alien human world. After all, how does one find one man among billions? Worse yet, she finds herself slowly but inexorably losing her memories of him, starting with his name.

Intended Readership: Adult, as this one's likely to contain some graphic sex.

The thinking process behind this: This idea germinated from a combination of musings on alienation and outsider status within a group. I had a particularly clear image of Rue at a modern-day party, not really sitting apart, but apart nonetheless; talking to people but communicating nothing and just plain not getting those around her.

It also came from reading too many bad romance novels on a challenge and being really frustrated with the downright stupid relationship dynamics. (Yes, it does tie in. You just can't tell by the summary, because I suck at summaries.)

The other origins I can think of involve way too many inside jokes for me to even attempt explaining.

Blogathon - Entry 4

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Excerpts: Transients

Renee was the sort of person you desperately wanted to like you. Not even necessarily because you liked her – though you probably did – or because of her social status. She just had a presence about her; a weight to her opinions and a way of drawing you in. Sure, Rue couldn’t read energies anymore in her current predicament (and she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to read humans, either way), but she didn’t need magic to tell her this much.

Unfortunately, much as she second-guessed herself about it, she also had a vague suspicion that Renee didn’t hold her in the same regard. Her first thought was that it had something to do with her and Ash hanging out, what with Renee being his ex and all, but that would have been terrible logic even for a human. Ash and Renee seemed to get on rather well for exes, and neither of them struck Rue as a jealous type. Hell, it was no secret that both of them had dated other people while they were together (though with less overlap than some rumors had it). So scratch that bit of stupidity.

( Cut for length )

Blogathon - Entry 5

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Excerpts: Transients

“So, what, I’m just going to forget you? Just like that?” Her fiddling with her hair ties had gone compulsive, to the point that one had already fallen out. “Can I just say that I don’t like having my brain fucked with.”

“I’m sorry,” Rue said. “It’s not really something I have any control over. It’s just how it works with humans and Fae. Maybe it’s because our worlds aren’t meant to mix, or because most humans wouldn’t be able to handle knowing-“ She broke off at Violet’s glare.

“I can handle you just fine – though if you keep condescending to me, that may change.”

“Maybe you can, but…” No, start over. This argument wasn’t working. Not even Rue herself believed in it. “Look. Like I said, it’s not something I can control – and I don’t mean someone else in Faerie does either. I mean… you don’t will a scab to grow over a wound. It just does, provided you don’t keep reopening the wound. Being around Fae is like reopening the wound. You can’t forget us when we’re here, but once we leave, your memory heals over and you forget.”

Violet still looked skeptical. “That’s all very well, except not everyone gets scabs. There’s those whose blood won’t clot – ever heard of hemophilia? Maybe I’m just a memory hemophiliac – hey, it’s not as silly as it sounds! Maybe I’ll forget, but I’ll still know where the holes are. Think about it. Remember how you couldn’t recognize Ash, but you could still remember that you were looking for someone? The negative space was still there, and I can’t imagine it not driving you insane.”

“It won’t be like that. You won’t even know we existed. You’ll remember doing other stuff, meeting other people. Everything will seem perfectly normal.”

“Yeah? How do you know.”

“I don’t,” Rue admitted. For some reason, seeing Violet deflate was worse than having her friend mad at her. “I’ll miss you.”

Violet wiped at the streak of soot by her nose. “You could have started with that. Jerk.”

Rue hugged her, wordlessly, and eventually, Violet leaned into the hug. “I wish you didn’t have to go. I wish I didn’t have to forget you. I-“ She threw up her arms. “I’ll miss you too.”

Blogathon - Entry 6

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Excerpts: Transients

No one had ever told Rue how much it would hurt, travelling between worlds; cold and fire, like needles being driven slowly into her skin. Her eyes were glued shut, utterly blind save for the dancing afterimages behind her eyelids. Her throat stopped up so that she couldn’t swallow, much less scream like she wanted to. She’d wished for many things in her life, but right now, it all came down to wishing this was over, or better yet that she’d never embarked on this stupid mission to begin with.

There was a reason no one had told her how awful the transition would be. No one sane would talk about it, much less attempt it themselves. A point of view Rue was rapidly beginning to appreciate.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, she felt the passage open up around her. The pain receded as the world around her began to stabilize. Rue knew it wouldn’t last. The portal wouldn’t be able to maintain itself in one place for more than a minute. She scrambled out of it, toward open air. The portal closed behind her bare seconds after her feet touched the ground, its backdraft pushing her off-balance.

She stumbled and fell forward, knees hitting grass and loose soil, even as her arms plunged up to their elbows into cold water. She must have landed on the bank of a stream. Quick-moving, but not enough to make her worry for her safety. Rocks lined the bottom, worn smooth by the constantly-moving water. Rue held very still, waiting for the passage-induced blindness to recede. Above her, she could hear the chattering of birds and small animals.

Her sight began to return, and with it came a nagging headache which somehow managed to intensify all the smells around her tenfold. Green plants, recently cut, and a drifting scent of roasting meat. Normally, Rue would have found them pleasant, but right now the whole lot of it just made her dizzy. Gingerly, she backed away from the bank. Her sodden sleeves made squelching noises as she moved. She flopped onto her back on the grass. Above her, tree branches painted a leafy mosaic on the sky, their shadows echoed on the ground.

So this was Earth.

Blogathon - Entry 7

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BPAL Reviews! I know you're all excited.

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Heather, clover, Irish moss, English ivy, tea rose, and carnation.

In bottle: Sweet and fresh. I swear I'm getting a berry note.
On me: Sweet herbal goodness. I'm sorry I didn't buy this one now.

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Plunder
The scent of a pirate's bumboat, overflowing with stolen wares: tea leaf, cassia, cinnamon bark, clove, allspice, sandalwood, tobacco, peppercorn, and nutmeg.

In bottle: boooooooze and spices.
On me: Cinnamon single note. Almost like cinnamon gum. I hope it won't make me allergic.

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Mead Moon
Golden mead, fermented with gruit, nutmeg, clove, cinnamon, ginger root, sweet-briar, rosemary, and lemon.

In bottle: Heady, musky honey.
On me: Same, mmmm. Another one I really wish I'd bought. Some of the lemon's coming through now and making it even better.

Blogathon - Entry 8

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Excerps: Transients

Prologue

The blood on his hands was just starting to dry when the guards arrived. It itched, all dry and flaky, with the questionable consistency of greasy ashes. He’d sustained no injuries of his own. His erstwhile opponent still lay where he had fallen, face-up to the sky. Ash’d thought about closing the man’s eyes, but something – be it superstition, fear or residual dregs of anger – made him reluctant to touch the body.

Killing should not have been this easy. That is, the physical aspect had been about what he expected. He was younger and better trained with a sword, if lacking in battle experience. But he’d thought the reality of having taken a life would hit him harder; that the guilt of it would be overwhelming. He’d thought, at the time, it would be worth the price. What he felt instead was nothing, or the next closest thing to it. His hands itched and he shivered in the morning cold, but his thoughts declined to move in any direction whatsoever.

The first thing the guards did was check on the dead man. They must have thought he'd fallen over drunk; Gods knew it happened often enough. The second thing they did - much to Ash's discomfort - was ask him if he was injured. The thought of him as a murderer hadn't occurred to them yet. The last time one of the Fae had died... Well, it was a long time ago and Ash remembered the date all too well.

He didn't protest when they finally took him into custody.

( Cut for length )

Blogathon - Entry 9

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First list of the day:

10 Books I Want to Read This Year

1. Sky Coyote, by Kage Baker (Reading now)
2. The Spirit Ring, by Lois McMaster Bujold (and then I will have read everything by Bujold published so far.)
3. Banewreaker, by Jacqueline Carey (I really should check out this other series of hers.)
4. Spirits in the Wires, by Charles de Lint
5. The Secret Country, by Pamela Dean
6. His Majesty's Dragon, by Naomi Novik
7. Idlewild, by Nick Sagan
8. The Lies of Locke Lamora, by Scott Lynch
9. Midnight Never Come, by Marie Brennan
10. Fire and Hemlock, by Diana Wynne Jones

Blogathon - Entry 10

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What Lily is currently writing, take three:

Title: And Some in Ice

The Earth is falling apart, slow but inevitable. Those who can catch a shuttle leave as fast as they can. Those unable to afford it, well...

Dara and Kei are two of those 'have nots.' Caught in a lethal blizzard, the two of them take shelter in a dilapidated library building, swapping stories to pass the time.

Two truths and a lie, doubled. But which are the lies and which the truths?

Intended Readership: Adult with no particular warnings.

The thinking process behind this: Because I wanted to do a post-(well, pre)-apocalyptic Canterbury Tales. What? That's not a good enough answer for you?

This one's likely to be a novella or longish short story rather than a novel.

Blogathon - Entry 11

Thank you to new donor, marmota! With his donation added to those from family, former roommate and old boss, I am now up to $130. Go y'all and go me!

Blogathon - Entry 12

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More BPAL!

Lady Una
Honey musk, green tea leaf, blackberry leaf, vanilla bean, and fae spices.

In bottle: Fresh grass and musk. Most interesting. Not sure what I think of it, but definitely interesting.
On me: Musky vanilla. Pleasant - very - but not a must have. Nice, though.

Prospero
There was beauty, there was wine: a rich Sangiovese vintage swirled through opulent amber, rich plum, champaca flower, and arrogant white musk.

In bottle: Whoa, kick to the brain! Kind of a cloyingly sweet kick.
On me: More plummy sweet, but I'm still getting a sugared candy scent, which isn't really my thing. Shame, I like plums.

Hexennacht 2008
This perfume is the scent of the witches' revel: German fir and forest herbs, incense and bonfire smoke, infernal flora, glowing amber, and the wet, glimmering scent of skin warmed by dance.

In bottle: Burning wood and earth. With a counternote of frost.
On me: A day out in the woods. Very crisp and down to earth. Mmmm.

Blogathon - Entry 13

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Excerpt - And Some In Ice

I was born with purple eyes.

Don't look at me like that. I had an iris decoloration surgery when I was seven. My mother would have had me go through with it earlier, but the doctor told her it wouldn't be safe. Between you and me, I don't think she really cared. I could have gone blind, and it wouldn't have mattered. But the possibility of a lawsuit - oh yeah, that got through to her.

And ok, this probably saved me a lot of flack later in life. Being a genetic weirdo can be hell sometimes. I've heard all the stories. People getting beat up, kicked out of school, disappearing off the map.

But sometimes? Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have superpowers.

What?

No, I don't. Not exactly.

Just... just once. And if you tell anyone, I'll kill you. I'll find out, hunt you down and kill you. No, not with my powers. Guns are much easier, stupid.

It only happened once. I was twelve and a bunch of us were outside, playing wall-ball. You throw the ball at the wall, and while it bounces, you have to run up, touch the wall and run up to catch the ball before it starts rolling.

I really sucked at that game, and I sucked especially hard that day. I held it in and smiled, though, but after everyone left, I just hauled off and punched that wall. I can remember it now; all pure rage and adolescent hormones. And when I looked up, there was a fist-shaped hole in the steel, with acid pooling in it, eating away at the surface. By morning, that hole must have been deep enough to stick your whole arm in.

I don't know what excuse the admins made for it. I never told anyone it was me, though. I'm not fucking stupid.

And it was just that once.

Later, when I was eighteen, I got mugged by this guy, off of 37-and-4th. I'm terrified for my life and pissed off to boot, and I remember this incident from when I was a kid. So I huddle in, pretending to be too scared to move, and when he looks away, I sock him in the stomach. I hate this guy, far more than I ever hated the wall - but all it does is make him double over for like two seconds. I don't even get the chance to run before he starts wailing on me. I spent two days in the hospital after that one.

So there you have it. If you want superpowers, you're a fucktard.

Blogathon - Entry 14

List time!

10+ Bad Superhero Movies for Bad Movie Night

1. Fantastic 4: 2
2. Batman Forever (It is so worse than Batman and Robin)
3. Hulk (the Ang Lee one; the new one's ok)
4. Catwoman (in name only)
5. X-men: The Last Stand
6. Superman 4: The Quest for Peace
7. Batman and Robin (despite what I said above, it's still bad)
8. Electra
9. Barbed Wire
10. League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
11. The Shadow
12. The Spirit (is looking to be that bad, from the trailers alone)

Blogathon - Entry 15

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"What's Lily writing?"

Title: Crossing Point

Crossing Point University isn't like most colleges. Classes are held outside more often than not, letter grades are less than mandatory and sometimes it feels as though the field dubbed The End of the World really does go on forever. But the weird cuts deeper than that, as five students discover.

Intended readership: Late YA to adult

Thinking process: Ok, here's the story behind this one. Once upon a time, nevacaruso and I had finals. This means we were less than sane. Sometime in there, we came up with the idea of doing a webcomic based on Bennington and the people we knew there, only with overt magical weirdness happening. We were going to call it "Mrs. Jennings vs. the Zombies." Sometime over the next year, the story...evolved. Crossing Point is still recognizably Bennington, but the characters have become people in their own right and they've a real story now.

Blogathon - Entry 16

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10 Movies/books/TV shows that would make great musicals.

1. Torchwood
2. Babylon 5
3. The Civil War Arc (Marvelverse) - suggested by wired_lizard
4. The Princess Bride
5.

... As it turns out coming up with things that would make great musicals is harder than the reverse list slipjig did of things that should never, ever be made into musicals. Most things would work just fine, but how many are there that really call out for it. Mreh.

Blogathon - Entry 17

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More BPAL!

Cordelia
The essence of faith, love and devotion: lilac, lemon, green tea, wisteria, osmanthus, white cedar, and Chinese musk.

In imp: A whiff of lilac, followed by overwhelming NARSTY.
On me: NO!

Dolce Sil Nuovo
Our interpretation of Dolce Stil Nuovo is a blend of rose otto, carnation, vanilla flower, lavender and jasmine with the clarity of crystalline white musk and the warmth of golden amber.

(Whoa, jasmine stepping carefully here.)

In imp: Bit of lemon and...nothing. For a jasmine scent, that's damn good.
On me: Disappears entirely.

Catherine
Named for the ambitious, vengeful poisoner Catherine deMedici, who used perfumes to perform her dark deeds. A sinful blend of orange blossom, rosemary and rose... allegedly the exact perfume she utilzed in her work.

In imp: Menthol and death.
On me: Just death, namely mine.

Blogathon - Entry 18

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Yet more BPAL!

Phantasm
This delicate, spectral perfume gives rise to an eerie distortion of of the senses. It bestows an ephemeral, ghostly, and truly haunting quality to your presence. Green tea, lemon verbena, jasmine and neroli.

In imp: All jasmine all the time.
On me: No

Hetairae
The sublimely beautiful, fiercely independent, impeccably cultured, fascinatingly worldly and witty courtesans of ancient Greece. A seductive and dazzling blend of golden honey, fiery patchouli, sweet fig and clove, and a blushing touch of ylang ylang.

In imp: Firey honey
On me: Nice!

Ochosi
His ofrenda is the soft shea he shares with Obatala, forest herbs, and sprucewood arrow shafts.

In imp: Interesting blend
On me: Shea butter. Nice, but I can get that from my bodywash.

Moon Rose
A crisp, pale, almost translucent rose dusted by moonflower and midnight dew.

In imp: Warm rose
On me: Goes to soap immediately

Blogathon - Entry 19

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Son of yet more BPAL!

Eternal
Stephanotis, cyclamen, heliotrope, white rose and gardenia.

In imp: Pleasant enough, but still traditional floral.
On me: Herby

Sleepy Moon
A nearly-narcotic blend of opiate-touched bark and blossom reflective of the bleakness and solitude of winter, the quietest point of the year : black opium poppy, bamboo pulp, ylang ylang, lavender, chamomile and white sandalwood.

In imp: Cloying herby. I can see it being soporific, though...
On me: And therefore will not try it on me, as I need to stay AWAKE.

Lucy's Kiss
Created to represent the essence of Bram Stoker's tragic heroine, Lucy Westenra. Seductive, wanton and deadly, but underscored with a soft, wistful innocense. The gentle scent of rose and a blend of Victorian spices.

In imp: Baking soda?
On me: Baking soda!

Blogathon - Entry 20

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Still working on my next fiction piece, so here's more BPAL.

Jolly Roger
Sea spray with an undercurrent of leather, Bay Rum, and salty, dry woods.

In imp: Wood with a dry, bitter undertone. Only a very slight hint of yummy leather.
On me: Same. Very dry, which is odd for a pirate.

La Vita Nuova
Apple blossom, white rose, lemon balm, and champagne grape.

In imp: Sweet green grape. Nice!
On me: Ooh, lovely! Want!

Parlement of Foules 2008
Medieval romance and courtly love. White rose and soft resins.

In imp: Mostly resins.
On me: Candles r us.

Blogathon - Entry 21

Rusalka

[This is technically a character sheet for secretboston, but I think it can stand on its own.]

If you were ever mortal, you no longer remember it. There may have been a man - you've heard the stories of the ways your kind come to be. Someone who hurt you or spurned you; someone who made your life seem small and worth giving up. There may or may not have been a child.

Whatever happened before, it was a rusalka you became. Not a mermaid; not the romantic version espoused by Anderson, but a Russian spirit, wild and dangerous. You were a killer.

You're comely enough, but not specifically beautiful. Still, those mortals who saw you in the moonlight would be drawn toward you like iron to a magnet, into the lake and downward, until the waters rose over their heads and they drowned. You've the reputation of a siren, but it wasn't just men you took. Men and women, young and old; all came to you if you willed it.

( Cut for length )

Blogathon - Entry 22

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Storyville
(No posted notes)

In imp: Very sweet and rich
On me: ...Don't get attached. You'll probably never see this one again.

Atrocious Attic
A shadowy shrine filled with forgotten toys, broken dolls. The altar: a collapsing trunk distended by a rotted wedding gown. The air of the room is dusty, laced with the scent of a child's perfume and the remnants of a dried, crumbling bridal bouquet: tea rose, violet, white sandalwood, French lavender, and Calla lily.

In imp: Floral meh
On me: Meh

Leo
Egyptian amber, walnut bark, chamomile, frankincense, and saffron.

In imp: Rich, yet subtle
On me: Nice, but not really my thing

Blogathon - Entry 23

Going back and adding lj cuts to my previous entries. You can all rejoice now.

Blogathon - Entry 24

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What's Lily writing? Take...fuck if I remember.

Title: The Devil's Playground

Blake Donover didn't mean any harm. Not when he joined a radical political organization at his far-too-rich-and-bored high school, and not in the disaster that resulted. When he's pulled out of prison by the legit-seeming Wentz Institute, he's eager to get back to normality. Instead, he'd made part of an international peacekeeping team, where learning to abilities he pretends don't exist can mean the difference between life and death - and not just Blake's.

Intended Readership: Somewhere between late YA and adult? This story is currently in the process of major change.

Thinking Process: ...Y'know, I don't even know. This one's been percolating in my head in various versions since I was sixteen. No, you never, ever get to see any of these early drafts. Not ever!

Blogathon - Entry 25

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More BPAL! Rejoice!

Two, Five and Seven
‘Would you tell me,’ said Alice, a little timidly, ‘why you are painting those roses?’

Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began in a low voice, ‘Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a red rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake; and if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, Miss, we’re doing our best, afore she comes, to—’

A huge bouquet of squished rose petals: Bulgarian rose, Somalian rose, Turkish rose, Damascus rose, red and white rose, tea rose, wine rose, shrub roses, rose, rose, rose…

…and just an itty bitty bit of green grass.

In imp: Rose doom. I like roses, but too much is too much and this gets cloying.
On me: Nah-uh

Rose Red 2007
The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut.

In imp: Nice!
On me: ...Whoa, that's a little too much amp there.

Hanami
A scent of peace, reflection, and renewal of the spirit: sakura, ume blossoms, and wisteria.

In imp: Buttery, powdery old lady scent
On me: Same

Blogathon - Entry 26

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Observations from Blogathon.

Pros: Gourmet food and first-class care. Seriously, the people looking after us are awesome!

Cons: I don't get to read anybody else's entries. No time. :( At least I'll get to remedy that, eventually.

This is the part of the event where my brain begins to fry and I produce nothing of value. Hopefully I'll get my second wind soon.

Blogathon - Entry 27

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Honoring penguingirl84's request:

10 Awesome Superhero Movies
(In no particular order)

1. Batman: The Dark Knight
2. Iron Man
3. X-men: 2
4. Batman Begins (Hey, two Batman movies wound up on the other list)
5. The Incredibles
6. Dogma (It does too count)
7. Donny Darko (<lj user=wired_lizard says it counts and I trust her) 8. 9. 10. Space for sale. Please feel free to make suggestions.

Blogathon - Entry 28

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Ladies and gentlemen, I have pulled a prompt from the Hat That Looks Good On No-One. Fear for me.

And the prompt is... Interesting reasons for carpal tunnel that have nothing to do with typing.

...And no, masturbation does not count. Not if it was the first thing 90% of the people in the room thought of first.

1. Japanese caligraphy
2. Holding on for dear life, lest you fall off the Empire State Building
3. Being Spider-Man.
4. Overuse of the happy fun stress ball
5. Pulling up carpets and/or wallpaper
6. Overuse of jazz hands
7. Strangling people a heck of a lot
8. Poking someone in the eye repeatedly
9. Pulling the trigger of a gun during a zombie apocalypse
10. Being the subject of a space alien science experiment on carpal tunnel syndrome.

Blogathon - Entry 29

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Hat of Destiny strikes again!

"Unusual way to use 'Carolingian' in a sentence."

1. Betty realized that she wasn't cut out to be a historian when she couldn't remember which country the Carolingians were from and whether they were a royal line or an auto manufacturer, and couldn't be arsed to look it up.

2. 'Carolingian' is not the name of a cat breed, but that doesn't keep some owners from insisting.

3. The tall, half-naked Carolingian walked into the room, making the handmaidens swoon in pervy, pervy glee.

4. The crew of the spaceship "Carolingian" looked on curiously, as their craft spun into a collision course with an asteroid.

5. My spell check just tried to turn 'Carolingian' into 'Corleone'; proof that Word is owned by the Mafia.

Blogathon - Entry 30

Thanks to new sponsor ryenna, we are now up to $150. Thank you, Ry!