lumieredetoiles: (Playful)
[From [livejournal.com profile] kittydesade's Arcana]

THE STAR

The Star is one of the most unequivocally bright spots in the pantheon of the Arcane. She is a show-off, but without the characteristic arrogance of the Sorcerer, performing half in order to get a pleasurable reaction from the audience, half simply because she enjoys the performance. The purpose of any showboating the Star does is to get a laugh or a smile out of her friends, those around her. She is at her best when amongst a crowd of people, familiar with at least most of them, engaging their attention in some way.

Stars are most often connected with the performance arts, utilizing these gifts to entertain their friends and keep a certain amount of levity in their lives. A Star may be a musician, an actor, a comedian, or a dancer; if she does not use these skills in her professional life she may well practice them in her private life. Sometimes a Star is involved in a social profession that, while it involves no actual performance as such, offers her an opportunity to mingle with and meet a number of people from a variety of walks of life. She may act as counselor or devil's advocate to her friends in need, offering a pragmatic or down-to-earth view so gracefully that it does not abrade the emotions unnecessarily. Usually following a talking-to, she turns around and offers comfort and cheer.

Stars are generally low-maintenance and require only a little time to vent or rest or otherwise dispose of the stress they have built up over a period of caring for their friends. However, a Star who gets too little of this may fall into a deep depression or, worse, an almost psychotic malaise. Fallen Stars often become Sorcerers simply out of taking too little time for themselves, the stress of bad situation after bad situation clouding their judgment until they start midway down a Sorcerer's path. Already possessing the charisma and social skills, it isn't that far from manipulating emotions towards happiness and ease from manipulating them any way the Star chooses.

....????

Jul. 6th, 2009 10:52 pm
lumieredetoiles: (Just teasing)


Your Fortune Is: Man who fight with wife all day get no piece at night.



Follow these wise words carefully.



....Haven't they heard of make-up sex???
lumieredetoiles: (Party girl)


You Are Disco Dancing



You are very energetic and lively. You could dance all night.
Fun loving and social, you like dancing best when everyone in the room is dancing.

You love to dance to anything, and it's hard to stop once you start.
You love dancing in a crowd. And no matter how big the crowd, all eyes are usually on you.

lumieredetoiles: (Arching on floor)


Your Daisies Say You're Very Resilient



You have a spirt of pure optimism. Your view of the world is eternally cheerful.
You are bold and vibrant. Incredibly striking, you always stand out in a crowd.

You are adaptable and flexible. You can thrive in almost any situation.
You are often under estimated. Your critics and enemies are in for a surprise.

lumieredetoiles: (Coy)


You Are Marilyn Monroe



A classic tortured beauty
You're the dream girl of many men
Yet they never seem to treat you right



...Heh.
lumieredetoiles: (Sensual amusement)


You Are Vitamin A



You see the world vividly. You are a very visual person, and you pay special attention to colors.
And while you appreciate a sunny, beautiful day - you also like the subtle visuals of night.

You are youthful both in appearance and spirit. You are likely healthier than average.
You shine brightly and are best in small doses. Too much of your company can be overwhelming and even dangerous.

lumieredetoiles: (Coy)


You Are Flirtatious



You are outgoing, talkative, and incredibly social. You love swapping stories and jokes.
You're optimistic and enthusiastic. You're both good at being a cheerleader and at cheering people up.

You are a very charming person. You make connections easily, and you love harmless flirting.
Sometimes your charm can turn against you. People tend to think you're a better friend than you actually are.

lumieredetoiles: (Laughing)


You Scored 100% Correct



You are an 80s expert,
You never confuse New Order with the Pet Shop Boys.
You know which classical musician Falco rocked.
When it comes to 80s music, you Just Can't Get Enough!

lumieredetoiles: (Coy)


You Are Cranberry Juice



You're sassy and even a bit snarky at times. You have an edge to you.
And while you can be brutally honest, you're still quite a charmer.

You are confident, modern, stylish, and dazzling. You have an overpowering personality.
You're a bit of an acquired taste. People often wish you were sweeter.



...I'm not snarky! I am, however, sassy and brutally honest, so.
lumieredetoiles: (Laughing)


You Are Made Of Delight, Instinct, and Humor



3 parts Delight
2 parts Instinct
1 part Humor

And a Splash of Sass

Chug!



Ok, I have to be up at some ungodly hour that's more like when I usually go to bed, so. Right. Bed for me.
lumieredetoiles: (Stronger)
Ok, filming all day is exhausting. I don't know how people do this all day every day five to six days a week. I mean, when we're in rehearsals it's long, and I'll admit that the shows themselves are more demanding than filming acting-wise, and my Saturdays are always long, but God.

It's like stop and go and do it again and then do it again this way for the other camera and pretend the camera is your partner instead of another person so they can get close up reaction shots, and it's just ... yeah.

Day 1, and I think we got like five scenes done maybe?
lumieredetoiles: (Coy)


Your Valentine's Day Personality is Sexy



For you, Valentine's Day is all about flirting, seduction, and playfulness.
And that's regardless of whether you have a date or not!

On Valentine's Day, you'll skip the cheesy cards and candy.
And double down on lingerie, champagne, and five star hotel rooms.



...What? Doesn't everyone?
lumieredetoiles: (Coy)


You Are Asparagus



You're not exactly subtle. You seduce people by being highly suggestive.
And surprisingly, it works. Your outrageous ways are very appealing.

You always try to look as sexy as possible. Even if it means being a bit inappropriate.
You somehow always manage turn the vibe sexual. You have more fun when everyone is being naughty!



...I think the meme just called me a slut...
lumieredetoiles: (Classic for the cameras)


Aw, hon... you were just too pretty to live. As the masked murderer chased you through the woods, he told you he ranked his victims based on cuteness, and you were at the top of the list. You couldn't help feeling flattered, even if the compliment was coming from a total psycho. When you turned around for one second to look at this insane (but clearly intelligent) person, you ran straight into a tree. He caught up and stabbed you through your favorite shirt. At that point, you kind of just gave up. I mean, without that shirt, was there any point in living?
lumieredetoiles: (It's not always sunshine)
Don't write a letter when you want to leave.
Don't call me at 3 A.M. from a friend's apartment.
I'd like to choose how I hear the news.
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.
Tell me on a Sunday please.


That was Mark. I was nineteen. He was thirty-five, my acting teacher at the university and married, but of course "leaving his wife" any day now. She didn't understand him the way I did. Yes, I bought it. I was nineteen for God's sake, and he was brilliant. He'd done several films and performed on Broadway and was taking a hiatus to be a guest instructor and just to get into his class we had to audition, and I was the only sophomore to make it in, so. There were nights spent talking about theatre and scripts and interpretations and art and life and what it all meant, to be an actor, to take on these roles, to fill the shoes of someone else, to take on another persona and live it and reach out and touch the hearts of the audience, to give them that gift. There was wine. There were tickets to shows that I'd never seen--not the bit ones, but small, intimate ones that were real art, he said, breathtaking and shocking. We'd make love after, and it was how I'd always thought it should be. But then his wife found out and actually threatened to leave him, and, well, he'd never intended to leave her, of course, no matter what he told me, and God forbid she leave him. I got the phone call, with him drunk, sobbing about how she'd kicked him out, and when I suggested this was a good thing, he started yelling at me and hung up. Over Christmas I got a letter, telling me how sweet and talented I was "but"...and when I got back from break, well, he was nowhere to be found, his classes canceled. And I grew up a bit, I guess.

Let me down easy, no big song and dance.
No long faces, no long looks, no deep conversation.
I know the way we should spend the day.
Take me to a zoo that's got chimpanzees.
Tell me on a Sunday please.


That was Scott. He was a poet, and very good at certain things that a girl looks for in a casual sort of relationship. I was in the middle of opening The Importance of Being Earnest, and it was big, really big. Off-Broadway, but I was playing Cecily and it was a major theatre, and Scott was just, well, stress relief. I mean, he was nice. And he was handsome. And he was, as I said...talented. Not with poetry. But he thought he was in love with me or something, at least for a while, and that I was his muse. And then he met Erica, who was eighteen and thought his poetry was as brilliant as his other skills and he thought she made a better muse, which, really, I was okay with. But he had to draw it out. There were tears. And lots of wine. And hours of conversation. And poems. And letters. And then when we'd run in to each other in the street for months later, he'd sigh and reach for my hand and call himself a cad and ask how I was and what I was doing was, well, the actor playing Algernon who was even more talented both on and off stage, so. That was awkward.

Don't want to know who's to blame,
it won't help knowing.
Don't want to fight day and night
bad enough you're going.
Don't leave in silence with no words at all.
Don't get drunk and slam the door,
that's no way to end this,
I know how I want you to say goodbye.
Find a circus ring with a flying trapeze.
Tell me on a Sunday please.


That was Eric. Which was clearly a mistake from the start. For one, I mean, after what he did in Ireland to Keelia, I shouldn't have gone near him. For another, he had been Keelia's fiance. For another, Mama's been tossing me at his head since I was ten, so the sheer pressure on both of us was going to be phenomenal. But...once Keelia explained everything and I knew what happened wasn't really all his fault...I just had to see him, at least. To see if he was okay. And he wasn't. He was wrecked with horror, with guilt, with disbelief. Everything that witch did to him, he knew. There wasn't any denial left for any of us, you know? And what do you do when the stories leap to life off the pages, and not just the princes on their white horses but the evil queens and their wicked spells, and leave your life destroyed? How do you pick up the pieces after? I mean, yeah, that's the whole premise of Act II of Into the Woods, but even that's just a story. This is real life. And he was my friend. And one thing led to another, and Keelia said it was fine, but it was stupid. I was a constant reminder of what happened, not a balm, and things got...bad, but I stayed because after what he'd been through, what I'd been through, who else would understand, you know? We should have ended it long before we did. And in a far better way. It didn't have to be that way. I still worry about him, still wonder. There are some things that don't ever heal right, and no one to talk to except those of us who were there, and now he doesn't have anyone. But the way it ended...we can't go back, and I wish it had been different. That we'd ended it as friends, like we'd always been, all our lives. Then I could have still been there, he'd still have someone.

And so would I.
lumieredetoiles: (Classic for the cameras)


You Are Strawberry Cake



Fresh, sassy, and romantic.
You're a total flirt, who never would turn down a sugary treat.
Occasionally you're a bit moody - but you usually stay sweet!

lumieredetoiles: (Sensual amusement)
Because I just picked these up today to go with this, and I really want to wear them.

WTF, why is it still February?

Unacceptable.
lumieredetoiles: (Just teasing)
The cavemen win, obviously. I mean, the astronauts are probably far hotter, but it's not like they teach them to fight or anything, do they? Maybe they do, but I'm thinking combat skills aren't really high on NASA's training program, because no one REALLY thinks that there's hostile aliens out there or that it'll come to hand to hand combat. But the cavemen are like wrestling and clubbing sabretooth tigers over their heads and shit.

So despite a regrettable lack of hygiene, they clearly have the advantage in a battle and would prevail over the immaculately groomed astronauts, which is sad when you think how far the whole state of manliness has fallen. Except not really, because despite Katy Perry's anti metrosexual thing with "Ur So Gay" I've got to say there's nothing wrong with a man who takes care of himself. I mean, I don't want to share my jeans or anything, but there's something to be said for a man with well-groomed hands, and knows what to do with them. But they'd probably be useless in a fight against a caveman with a club, I'll admit. So, cavemen.

Hopefully it never comes to that. The world would be in a sorry state if cavemen came back, though I'd argue there's some parts of the world where they haven't quite left. But they probably aren't fighting with astronauts.

Except maybe in bars in Texas when they're on shore leave or whatever they might call it in the astronaut world.

Huh--possibly this isn't as preposterous of a question as it seems on its face...
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