Darlin'. I finished a whole bunch of fic-writers' surveys, and they are now up in heah. A few interesting tidbits therein:

More people would not find Brad Pitt hot as a woman than those that would. People apparently find the word "cunt" unsexy. Most people don't identify with Logan.

I'm making cherry pie for Dorina today.

I had a serial killer dream last night. My aunt, my mother, and I were walking down the street, and there was some commotion along the side of it, and I stopped and talked to some people . . and they told me that there had been several murders. So I caught up to my aunt and mother and told them, and they seemed unconcerned, but they were heading towards the house so I figured I'd just follow them and lock the door, and we'd all be good.

But my father was playing with my two little siblings on a playground, that was high up, on some kind of embankment. I climbed up there and I said, hey, let's go home. But the kids were having fun, and Dad was feeling good, so he said, go on, we'll be there later. And I said, no. Come on now. There's something coming.

I finally got them all to climb down the embankment, and that's when I woke up.

Oh, dude. I'm sitting at the computer, and the white phone is on the desk to my right, and the headphones are draped over it . . and it looks just like llama. I'm like, hey, llama! And the line where the-- phone part, rests on the-- other part . . it looks just like a little llama smile. He's like, hey, man.

Gabriel: What's snow?

Logan: Snow's like feathers, cold as ice. Falls like rain and makes all the land white.

Gabriel: I don't believe in snow.

Logan: Believe in it for now. It's part of my story.

It lacked late into the year, the year that lightning struck the church spire and sent it splintering. Otis Gibson said that both things were undeniable signs of the impending Apocalypse. "And thou wilt not be able to tell season from season," he said, pulling the mug of dark coffee to his mouth and casting another meaningful glance across the counter at Tess Lewis, who shook her head.

"I can tell the seasons well enough. And Kent and the boys are out fixin' the church right now. --Which they wouldn't be able to do if it was snowin'."

"And there will be disbelievers . . " He craned his neck to see beyond the counter to the woman's stove. "How're those eggs comin'?"

"They're done," she said, handing him a plate. "You see signs everywhere."

He took a big bite of his breakfast, chewed and swallowed it, before he answered. "You mark my words, Miss Tess. It's the beginning of the end."

She wiped her hands on her apron and opened her mouth to say, "November is never the beginnin' of anything, Otis."-- but the door to her establishment opened then, and she set the words down on the counter with a heavy thump of her hand. "Oh," she said to the man in the doorway. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," the man answered, stepping in. "I'd like some coffee, and some meat, if ya got it." Tess looked behind her, at her stove, and then at Otis, who was watching the stranger take a seat. "I've got some ham. Or chicken, maybe, if you like."

"Ham's fine."

Tess nodded and set some coffee in front of the man-- glanced at Otis again and then went out back to the smokehouse.

The man took a drink from the mug and said, without looking up. "This is Ivy, North Carolina."

Otis frowned. "Forks of Ivy is the name of this town, sir. My name is Otis Gibson. I'm the judge."

One corner of the stranger's mouth lifted, still looking down at the coffee in his gloved hand. He said, "What're you the judge of, Otis Gibson?"

Otis opened his mouth to respond, but Tess bustled back in with her hands full of smoked ham, and she said, "Do you expect to be havin' more than four cuts, sir?" and the man shook his head. Tess nodded and put the meat on a skillet to heat. Tess asked, "How are your eggs, Judge Gibson?" and Otis answered, "They're good, Miss Lewis, thank you,"-- and they were both looking at the stranger.

A few minutes later, Tess set a plate of ham in front of the man along with a fork and a knife, and cleared her throat. "There you go, sir." The man raised his gaze from the table to her face and said, "Thank you, Miss Lewis," and she felt the skin of her cheeks heat. "oh," she said.

"May I have some more coffee?" Tess frowned in confusion and then looked over at the judge. "Oh. Oh, of course, Otis."

"So tell us, stranger," he said, while Tess refilled his mug, "What brings you to Forks of Ivy?"

The man slid his knife smoothly through the meat, bringing the piece to his mouth and chewing slowly. Otis thought he wasn't going to answer, but the man eventually said, "Mountain mile west of here."

"Creed Mountain?" Tess asked with suprise. Otis' frowned deepened. "What business would you have on Creed Mountain?" he asked. And then-- "Are you a lawman? Are you after one of the Creed boys?"

At that, the man raised his head to Otis, and Otis thought, "oh." The man said, "Why would a lawman be after Creed?"

"Otis," Tess said reproachfully. "You got no right to suggest such a thing. There's no reason why the law would be after any of the Creeds." She took the empty plate from the stranger and filled it with another cut.

Otis said, "You don't know that, Tess." The stranger said, "Creeds?"

Tess said, to the stranger, pouring him more coffee, "The Creed family has lived on that mountain for going on fifty years. I've only ever met the youngest, but I hear he's the spirit and image of his father. And his brothers."

The stranger half-grinned and nodded, then, and said, "Right."

Tess turned to Otis. "And that boy was in town just last week buying rope and flour, and he didn't seem like any type that'd have trouble with the law. He's just, not sociable."

"You mark my words," Otis said, shaking his head. "He's one of the bad ones."

The man gave a short laugh at that, which startled the other two, and he stood up. "I'll have to remember that. And I'll be havin' the rest of that meat t'go, Tess."

Otis said, "I would truly recommend you not to go up there, sir. The snow could come any day now."

The stranger took the ham and slipped it into a small bag at his waist. He looked at Otis and said, "I can do snow," and Tess blushed again and then the man left.

After a few moments, Otis shook his head and spoke. "I believe you're right, Tess. I see signs everywhere."

"No, no, Otis," Tess said, touching the high collar of her dress. "That was definitely a sign of something."

--Alestar
***
andrea, from the creed list:
Victor Creed---my ass is yours? does that mean i have a boyfriend now?