Where You Put The Keys!

crimson_keys @ 2009-06-02T16:47:00

2009-06-02T23:48:07Z

I am more than excited to announce that this girl is working on a The Lost Boys silver necklace. It has a picture of Dwayne framed by a coffin and one stone cross in bottom left hand corner. So far so good.

crimson_keys @ 2009-05-31T19:28:00

2009-06-01T02:29:25Z

I’m on twitter.

Santa Barbara

2009-05-30T01:38:25Z

I am going to Santa Barbara this summer. I am beyond giddy. I want so bad for my toes to be soaked in the sea and the bookstores! I’ve heard so much about them. Oh, boy, I can’t wait! I want someone to go with me. It’s no fun alone but if I have to, alone I’ll go. I already have the hotel picked out, not bad with the expenses low but comfortable beds and that’s all I ask for. YES!

crimson_keys @ 2009-05-16T18:53:00

2009-05-17T01:54:00Z

Highly Recommend …

“Life As We Knew It” By Susan Beth Pfeffer

“The Dead & The Gone” By Susan Beth Pfeffer

“Weregirls: Birth of the Pack” By Petru Popescu

Ten Things About Me

2009-05-12T23:19:27Z

1) My bird is laying eggs without the assistance of a male bird. Four eggs total. I thought she was a he. I was wrong.

2) My cat’s name is Lurch. He leaves hair everywhere and tries to type on my keyboard.

3) My hair color is brown. Sometimes blond. Sometimes red.

4) I am currently beading a mannequin head.

5) Four of my bracelets (plus a necklace) have already sold. I work with rubber, silver, beads and so much more.

6) My Dad is an artist. I’m just a follower.

7) I am really into Spock and Uhura right now. Will give anybody a custom made necklace for the person that writes me a fic based on those two. It doesn’t have to be really long. Just some meat and bones in the fic. Hell, I’ll design a bracelet and earrings to match. A $800 deal just for a fic. Go for it. If you want prompts I’ll give you prompts though the Star Trek movie gave tons. E-mail me at wolfsheart@cox.net and I’ll send you prompts. In general, I just want a fic.

8) I love Star Trek. Already collected the glasses BurgerKing is giving away for $1.99. All mine and yes, I’ll use them.

9) I love tripnotic. It’s trip hop.

10) I’ll burn you a CD. Just give me your address and wonders of all wonders, you’ll have CDs. I love music that much. I like to share.

crimson_keys @ 2009-05-11T16:35:00

2009-05-11T23:35:16Z

Someone write me a long Spock and Uhura fan fic. I’ll give/make you a necklace! Please? Pretty please?

crimson_keys @ 2009-05-11T16:19:00

2009-05-11T23:18:57Z

I am cooking again tonight. We’re having bun tacos.

crimson_keys @ 2009-05-10T14:33:00

2009-05-10T21:33:25Z

Warning. I am going to write tons of Star Trek fan fiction based on the movie. I loved it that much.

crimson_keys @ 2009-05-06T19:51:00

2009-05-07T02:51:11Z

Homemade burgers for dinner. Enough said.

crimson_keys @ 2009-05-02T18:22:00

2009-05-03T01:21:54Z

I’m sitting here downloading Trance music. At first I was dancing but now I’m completely in awe at some of the podcasts I’ve been listening to. And the fact that I can burn it on to a CD, rocks my boat!

crimson_keys @ 2009-05-01T20:15:00

2009-05-02T03:16:32Z

Ice cream with the Dads ... priceless!

crimson_keys @ 2009-04-28T18:33:00

2009-04-29T01:33:36Z

I’m remodeling the guestroom. I want it Old World style. We’ll see how it goes or when I have to call for help.

crimson_keys @ 2009-04-26T17:29:00

2009-04-27T00:32:37Z

Cried Out

Fast And Furious

Written for Carla

Summary: A snapshot into meeting death.

Leticia “Letty” Ortiz cried out.

Mia shifted, Dom’s arms circling around them both. The sky seemed dirty, fire and smoke. The air hard to breathe, thick and cough inspiring, settling in the throat. The sight overwhelmed the three, Letty especially. She was strong; a rock warmed by the sun, firm and solid, her world black and white. Nothing abnormal, nothing to scream about except in the embrace of Dom’s heavy weight against her body. She worried herself over cops and street gangs but death itself spoke riddles. The end of days approaching grabbed at Letty and wouldn’t let go.

“Dom,” Letty said and it was that one word alone that had the power to set things right. His arms grew tighter but he said nothing. Mia began to cry.

Letty closed her eyes.

Religions all across the world filtered inside her mind, leaving a nasty sense of shock. None of religions had the answer as to why the sky burned. Why the world turned upside down.

People have finally done it, Letty thought. War had consumed every second, every person, eating away at good, truth and life. There was nothing out there that could save them.

Missiles grasping at innocent people ruled now. Firearms were the dictators of who lived and who died apart from today, when the greatest threat turned out to be the sky and the planes, dropping bombs left and right.

The urge to clutch a steering wheel beneath her fingertips, the speed of out driving everybody else took Letty. She yearned for Dom and cars, like a child yearning for ice cream on a hot, sweaty day. Her world started and ended with high speed.

Letty opened her eyes.

Closer, closer yet, the fires burned. The sky spitting into two, threes, fourths, from areas yet to meet the big one, to places left abandoned, no life whatsoever.

Dom, her man, failed to run this time. He had wanted to meet death head on and now, together, the three would. Just a matter of time and with a tic and tock, time had just about run its course.

“It’s getting closer,” Letty spoke again, filling the silence between them. She felt like an alien in her own skin, watching, holding her breath. What does it matter? Fighting a winning force was nonsense.

The aircraft and rivaling army had almost reached where the three stood. War had finally come to them.

“We could still run,” she said but knew the answer already. Where could they run? All of United States was under attack. It wasn’t in her nature not to fight. It just hurt staying still. Waiting...

Dom’s arms fell away.

And it hit.

Leticia “Letty” Ortiz cried out again.

She was the only one that did.

The End

crimson_keys @ 2009-04-25T20:37:00

2009-04-26T03:38:13Z

It’s weird. I’m enjoying the non-work deal I have going on. The days seem so much brighter, the time much more personal, that I am afraid of going out and finding another job. Dad #1 doesn’t want me to. We’re set money-wise (thanks to the retirement settlement that I got) and have enough even to do fun things this summer. I have enough to go to school for two semesters, and maybe three, depending on how many classes I take. I’m not taking money from the Dads because of the retirement money. It’s, well, peaceful. And yet, there’s this underlining inside me that says I’m not worth anything without a job. I have no idea where this is coming from but it’s there apparently giving me nightmares. I’m trying to ignore it. I really don’t want another job until I’m completely ready. Right now I’m enjoying the freedom. Do you know how great it is that when we go to Disneyland twice this summer I don’t have to ask for the time off? Or when we keep going to SeaWorld? Freedom. It’s a wonderful thing.

crimson_keys @ 2009-04-24T13:16:00

2009-04-24T20:20:30Z

Working on two necklaces that Carla and I can wear at SeaWorld. One dolphin for Carla and a Killer Whale for me.

Found the two while shopping today. Dad #1 nearly screamed when he saw them and called me over. They are perfect. Really perfect. Can't wait to get done and show pictures. I'm debating on putting seashells on them or just leave the dolphin and Killer Whale alone. The seashells might overpower them. What to do?

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-26T15:56:00

2009-03-26T22:57:33Z

Last Sunday saw Race to Witch Mountain, which was good in its own right but does not compare to the originals, Escape to Witch Mountain and Return to Witch Mountain. I can’t help it; I loved the former two lots and lots when growing up. Had to see the remakes but still am loyal to the originals.

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-16T17:19:00

2009-03-17T00:19:37Z

I want Carla’s meatballs. That had to be said. I miss her. I’d forgotten what it’s like to have company that has similar interests, to watching television, going out to bookstores, plus talking about her stories equals much fun in my book. I really do miss her. August needs to be here now. I’m currently working on a care package for her that will include food items (Dad#1’s is adamant of this), books, and things Ma made for Carla. It’ll be mailed this week.

And once more I’ve fallen in love - with working silver. I’m currently laboring over a copper and silver necklace with flowers. It’s going to take me about a week but the end result worth it, so worth it,. There’s nothing like working with your father beside you hammering away at his own creation. It’s drawing us closer every minute. I love him so much and respect him and his work. I’m not good yet but damn, if I could at least have half of Dad’s talent, I’ll be set.

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-12T16:58:00

2009-03-12T23:58:50Z

I proposed that I wanted to do silver work. Dad’s going to teach me how to do silver on Saturday. I’m speechless.

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-11T09:45:00

2009-03-11T16:47:03Z

Just a tiny fic I wrote in hopes it'lll make Carla feel better ...

The Departure

Bouncy blond hair curled with satiny brown. Pale skin met with tanned skin, both flushed and wet. She took one lick, then another, down Star’s stomach to places known and quite beautiful. Star arched her back, giving a slight whimper, a despite plea for more. Rosalie complied, the two connecting and reconnecting, reaching limits unheard of but there, oh, so there just within reach. “Baby,” whispered Star, afterwards stroking Rosalie’s cheek. “Want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Rosalie answered. “I just need to get away from it all. There’s too much death in the air.”

“I know,” Star said. “I know.”

Emmett’s appearance startled the both of them. He looked horrible, eyes red-rimmed and empty. His compact shoulders slumped and mouth set in a firm line. “Come here,” He said, reaching out to the both of them. Each folded against his sides, Star to the back and Rosalie against his barrel chest. The girls sought and gave comfort, each kissing Emmett’s scarred bare skin and trailing fingers up and down until with a muffled cry, Emmett dug deeper into their embraces.

The three laid there, soaking up the warmth of bodies fastened together and the drive to be reassured.

“We need to talk,” Star finally spoke up and with a quickness that shocked both Rosalie and Emmett said “Bite me. Make me like you.”

“What?” Rosalie asked; her voice shaky. Star folded herself up, looking down at the two people that had banded together with her in order to deal with the deaths of their loved ones. Rosalie blinked a lot, keeping tears at bay while Emmett grew sullen. “You can’t be serious.”

"I am. I want the three of us to be together. I won’t survive if the two of you left Santa Carla. You’re all that I have now.” Star trembled, knowing what she asked was not easy to accomplish. First, there was the suddenness of it all and next, the pain.

Star welcomed pain, anything to feel something, to experience the sting of hot instead of the icy cold that had been settling in her heart for a month now, since Michael’s death. “Please.”

Star would beg. Kneel down. Stoop to altitudes where there was no place but up and higher, she would swallow a wooden bullet if they said no. Death would be her outcome. Death would be her choice.

Emmett finally spoke up. “I’ll do it.” Rosalie glanced over at her husband, seeking and found her answer.

There was a loud appeal to Rosalie, her golden eyes smoldering and she had a temper to match. She peered down at everyone including Emmett but if one were to be honest, Star loved it when Rosalie showed her dominant side. Both Emmett and Star pined for Rosalie’s show of superiority, the puff of self-importance, the turn of her cute nose up whenever Rosalie was out in public. Grief had dulled Rosalie’s spark but had yet to put it out entirely.

“We’ll do it,” Rosalie ordered, the tears fading. “We’ll both do it.”

Rosalie and Emmett took positions, Star waiting; her breaths coming in quick. They both bit down, Emmett on Star’s wrist and Rosalie on Star’s breast.

Agony ripped into Star, traveling up her body and down right to her toes. Saying it hurt would put it mildly. There was just so much riding into Star. Star screamed.

When Star woke, Rosalie was dressed, eyes crinkling mirthfully. “Ready?”

Star reached out her hand, taking Rosalie’s gloved ones, entwining fingers.

Emmett stood to the side, smiling for the first time since the fire that killed the entire Cullen family and the Lost Boys apart from Emmett and Rosalie and Star. “Shall we go?”

“Yes,” answered Star and the three, together, departed.

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-09T12:46:00

2009-03-09T19:46:35Z

I’m working on a beaded mask that screams to be done. It’s a slow process, though, because I have to bead and then glue, wait until glue dries and start the course all over again. It’s going to be breathtaking when done.

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-07T16:27:00

2009-03-08T00:27:02Z

I hereby challenge someone to write an Emmett/Paul fic. I love them so much I want more. It could be friendship or something more, just give me those two again. I love them both! I want to read more. And write more of them together!

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-06T17:32:00

2009-03-07T01:33:50Z

I am cooking tonight (again) and will make pepper steak and bake potato with sour cream, cooked carrots and cut spinach. Hope it works out. Here’s to praying that it will be fit for eating.

I’m thinking about skipping Warcraft tonight and work on several story ideas I have brewing. One involves the Lost Boys meeting up with the Roswell characters, epecially a Tess/evil Marko fic.

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-04T15:45:00

2009-03-04T23:26:20Z

The Other Side of the Sickle

Words: 769

Worlds: Harry Potter/Buffy: The Vampire Slayer/Underworld

Coarse fur, thick, densely covered. Teeth, pearly white, and pointed. Claws, sharp as the Freddy Krueger’s metal-clawed glove. Eyes dark, the depths profound, inhuman and wildness mixed into the pupils. Daniel "Oz" Osbourne and the wizard named Remus John Lupin watched, transfixed.

Dense fog twirled between their legs, clinging to boot cut jeans and robes as black as a moonless night. The woods were quiet, trees looming above, leaves colored mismatched shades, green, orange and a dirty brown.

There was them and there was it.

Captured; Trapped; and very much berserk. “Will it ever calm?” Oz asked, after the creature made another attempt to break free from the spell Lupin had placed upon it. It lay on the dirt, heaving heavy breaths. And then, “What is it?”

Lupin closed his eyes. “Werewolf,” he said, his English accent blending the word into a soft undertone.

Feral. Inhuman. Wolf.

It whined, nosing the air, wounded no doubt by the hassle of last night. Capturing it had not been easy, Oz had to wolf out himself and both had a struggle of an epic scale. There were still unhealed wounds littered across Oz’s face and hands.

Bruises; Cuts; Scrapes.

His back ravaged, still bleeding hours afterwards, leaving stains on his X-Men t-shirt.

“It can’t be,” Oz replied, “Why hasn’t he or she turned human yet?” It had been a day and a half, still no change. No transformation to dictate whether this was a werewolf or not. “It’s wounded. It’s not healing fast enough.”

“You’re still wounded.”

“Thanks for reminding me, Sherlock.”

Lupin shook his head. “My gut is telling me it’s a werewolf.”

The animal lunged again. The spell held, binding it in a caged like ensnarement. Oz and Lupin had incarcerated it in hopes of forcing down its throat the Wolfsbane potion but where it had worked miracles on taming both Lupin’s and Oz’s beasts, this particular beast kept on ticking. “I’m starting to get scared.”

“I know,” Lupin said. “I know.”

The beast woke memories up. Both Oz and Lupin remembered devouring flesh, ripping and tearing muscle and it hurt, their human halves despising what had been done before the potion and before Oz had gained control of his other half. “I don’t think it ever was human,” Oz finally said, laying claim to their fears.

If such a beast existed, hell would be favored instead of living in a world where such creatures roamed. It would kill, and kill and kill, leaving bones and perhaps infecting others to become such mindless beasts. “We got to warn Buffy.”

“And the Ministry of Magic.”

Lupin took out his wand. He saw himself and yet, not himself in the creature. Out there laid beasts so different, so diverse and unlike his own particular beast, what will possibly happen? What could possibly defeat them if the numbers were great? “I don’t want to do this.”

Oz laid a hand on Lupin’s tattered robe, yanking a little to get his attention. “It’s not human, Remus. It would have turned by now if it was. We can’t …,” Oz swallowed. “We can’t let it live.”

Lupin stared long and hard into its’ eyes.

Bottomless; Endless; lacking humanity.

There was no clue, no hint of understanding within the depths. Just eyes.

Uncultivated; Undomesticated; Untamed.

Horrible, ugly eyes.

“I am sorry,” Lupin said to the beast, “Truly sorry. Had you been human we would have taught you how to control the beast, how not to take innocent lives.”

“We tried,” Oz said, already turning away.

Lupin said, “Avada Kedavra.”

And it was done. The beast was no more.

Lupin stayed standing for the longest time, even while Oz had left. There was something in the way he stood, in the sorrow of his hunched shoulders and bent head.

There had been something there, thought Remus, something there he had seen in the beast’s eyes. Something not quite human; not quite monster. Something which made Remus feel he had committed murder on a being that was unique.

A being that had every right to live.

Lupin wondered, often wondered, had he come face to face with his own beast, would he have the courage to say the killing curse. It was a part of him, the wolf inside, would he kill part of himself?

Would he?

Lupin never had the right answer to that fussy question, because as questions go, it was a flip of a Sickle. No right or wrong answer. Just a flip of a Sickle. One day, Lupin thought, he would have to face the other side of that Sickle.

One day; not today.

crimson_keys @ 2009-03-01T13:57:00

2009-03-01T21:32:39Z

Home. Unpacked. Missing Carla. Now off to write.

crimson_keys @ 2009-02-19T17:31:00

2009-02-20T01:08:25Z

I’m packed. Set to go. So looking forward to this trip I can’t tell you in words how much!!! ;0)