(Wtf) If you look up the word "pathetic" in a dictionary...

[black_sluggard]

...you might just find a picture of me. I think this is best demonstrated with the scenario that just went down a few minutes ago...

(You know, just in case you needed a reminder that I'm completely certifiable.)

It begins with me, chilling in my parents' room (which is totally a thing twenty-eight-year-olds do when they live at home, especially when that's where the Xbox is located) playing Skyrim. I've pretty much been playing all day. I was ecstatic just to have gotten it to run, because just the other night my dad told me that the disc was broken.

And it was the worst possible timing because I needed to play that game...

Let me explain. Ever since Skyrim came out a year ago (resulting in myself, my sister and my father—my father so much—pretty much losing our whole lives to the game), I've kind of had this silly little idea of writing fic of it. And not just any fic of it, of course, but Castle fic of it. It's...a really long story, but let's just say "fusion AU" and leave it at that. I jotted down a few ideas (mostly stupid jokes, because this would be crack, right? Of course it would be...), but pretty much forgot about it. I went on to write a shitton of other fic for Castle, and even a few fic that had nothing at all to do with Castle.

Now, I don't even know how, but a few weeks ago, my muse got re-de-railed back onto my Skyrim fusion, which has lead to a lot of planning and plotting (and, oh, guess what, now it's got angst in it...fuck my life). Only, with this mad dash of plottery and wiki-diving for details, I got a real itch to play the game again.

You know. For research.

So, around mid-afternoon, with my dad passed out on the couch watching Apocalypse Now (which he does roughly once a week, I'm not even exaggerating), I crept into my parents' room, just seeing if, hey, maybe the Xbox gods would throw me a bone. I was surprised when I actually got the game to work. It wasn't perfect (I kept getting a "Lookup Failed!" error, and once the blacksmith in Whiterun just keeled over dead for no reason), but it was close enough, and I spent hours starting a new game.

Around eightish, my mother came back and told me to go up and get dinner (around here it's not unusual to get burned on dinner if you're not quick enough), but I kept playing because I didn't know if I was going to be able to get the game to run again.

Anyway, about an hour ago, as of writing this, my mom starts flipping channels on the TV next to the monitor. I'm mostly oblivious, immersed in...erm, you know. Plot research. Only, suddenly, I hear something that makes my insides squeak.

Now, I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm no longer watching Castle. My obsession with it was unhealthy, and while Kevin and Javi are still my OTP and my main fic muses, I was so immersed in the pairing that seeing anything contradicting it (translation: pretty much all of season four) makes me physically ill. Now, I know I'm given to hyperbole, but this is not one of those times. Hence, I really think I'm better off not watching it...

I mean, clearly I have a problem if after all this time my inside still go "squeak" with something akin to panic when I look over and see Seamus Dever charging across a crime scene.

Only...with the added humiliating feature of wondering how long it's going to take my mom to notice that I've created my Redguard Dragonborn to kind of, sort of, maybe resemble Jon Huertas just a little bit (and shamelessly named him "Javier of Elinhir"), or that with a hood on, his follower, Sven maybe looks like Seamus.

You know. If you squint.

Anyway, it was past ten. Since my insides were making weird little icky noises (that only ever get worse once Lanie shows up) I figured it was a good time to save and come up and get something to eat.

And post this. So you all know how fucking sad I am.

Comments

[cyren-2132.livejournal.com]

Doesn't sound sad to me...but I may not be a good frame of reference...