Go here and reload until you get five quotes that sum up your philosophy or outlook, then post them.


When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable.
Madeleine L'Engle (1918 - ), "Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art", 1980

I would rather be exposed to the inconveniences attending too much liberty than to those attending too small a degree of it.
Thomas Jefferson (1743 - 1826), to Archibald Stuart, 1791

We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?
Ray Bradbury (1920 - ), Fahrenheit 451, 1953

Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousand of miles and all the years you have lived.
Helen Keller (1880 - 1968)

Those who don't know how to weep with their whole heart, don't know how to laugh either.
Golda Meir (1898 - 1978)

Tags: meme
Current Mood: pensive

I've given my characters a healthy dose of Veritaserum and now they have to tell the truth. What does this mean for you? Ask my characters questions about anything and everything and they will truthfully answer it. So, go ahead and ask what you want. She can't beat around the bush with half-truths.

Tags: meme, meta, ooc

I have a meme over here open to anyone who has roleplayed with Kia or any of my other characters. Feel free to answer as many or as few of the questions as appeals to you, since not all of them will apply to everybody. ^_^

Tags: feedback, meme, ooc
Current Mood: good

If you could force me to write anything, what would it be?

Current Mood: mischievous

The How's My Driving? Meme

Tags: memes
Current Mood: curious

Your country's leader is in front of you. How do you speak to him or her? What do you say?


Note: This conversation takes place two days after events in this post and this one.

"Ms. Holtz." The elegant redhead in the tailored suit rose from her desk to extend a hand. "You have no idea how pleased I am to meet you. I'm Laura Roslin."

"President Roslin," Kia murmured as she accepted the handshake. Ye Gods, Jack, I could have used a little more advance warning. She'd only been able to pry a minimum of information out of Galactica's Chief Medical Officer on the shuttle over to Colonial One.

( A Presidential Audience )

Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 690

Current Mood: accomplished

Oh, Hestia, but I've taken entirely too long about posting this. My apologies, folks. The mun has had issues.

INSTRUCTIONS
01. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
02. I respond by asking you five questions, light, personal or totally random .
03. You will update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
04. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the post.
05. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

( From Clive )

So if anyone feels up to answering a few questions, you know I won't be shy about asking them. And if you think of anything else you'd like to ask me, I won't be shy about answering either. *grins*

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: One of Paul's operas

If you could live in any fictional place, where/when/what would it be?


As two young friends of mine recently pointed out, our fleet is caught between the historical and the legendary. We've lost our home, the Twelve Colonies that were in fact, now reduced to distant ruins and memories. We seek the Thirteenth Colony, the Earth that might be, but we're not one hundred percent certain. Neither one is fictional in the strictest sense of the word, though they surely might as well be to young people who have never experienced the former and aren't sure they believe in the latter.

I have experienced, and I do believe. What then would be my ideal fictional world?

It would be so very easy to choose some glittering, fantastical utopia from books or vids, a place without want or war or hatred. Given our current difficulties, though, I'd prefer to opt for something a little more ... well, achievable. Really, I could be happy living almost anywhere, as long as that anywhere had one quality.

Peace.

Not perfect, absolute peace, mind you. Not only does that take us right back to the unachievable, but we humans seem to create more than our share of internal problems if we're not presented with at least a few external challenges to handle.

But enough peace ... enough to let us build, and grow, and let us live our lives with those we love without the fear of obliteration shading everything to gray ... enough to allow a grouchy old military doctor to do something with the rest of his life besides patching up the wounds inflicted by attempted genocide ...

... maybe we can make that factual instead of fictional. Someday.


Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 269

Current Mood: pensive

Whom do you owe an apology?


Her name was Melissa Keres.

She was my manager, my amanuensis, my right hand, my friend. She handled all the promotions, presentations, accounts and other business arrangements for my scent design firm, freeing me to create. She had a husband and a six-year-old son. She was thirty-three years old.

( She was supposed to be on that transport. Not me. )


Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 419

Current Mood: gloomy

Tell a lie.


Just one? I could come up with so many ...

Not long ago, after a day even more brim-full than usual of screaming children, rebellious teens, recalcitrant suppliers and overstressed, argumentative staff, I did not pitch a full-fledged shit fit during which I informed Mark at the top of my lungs that the entire shebang was his to deal with now, because I was DONE. Nor did I terrify the rest of my staff to the point where they tiptoed around me for weeks.

I don't have to stifle thoughts of my own children multiple times a day. I never wonder whether they died quickly during the Cylon bombardment or suffered through radiation poisoning, starvation or some other more lingering end.

I certainly don't torture myself with the thought that, in spite of all the odds and all the time that's passed, one or more of them might somehow still be alive.

When we're under Cylon attack and Amalthea makes her jump to the emergency coordinates, I never linger at the entrance to the bridge, waiting with my heart in my throat for the moment when our DRADIS confirms that Galactica has rejoined us once again ... sick to my stomach with the thought that maybe this time she won't.

And even if I did, it would only be because I worry about losing the battlestar's protection.

Really. No other reason.

Would I lie?


Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 234

Current Mood: drained

Which of your five senses is the most important to you?


"For frak's sake, woman," Doc Cottle growled, "did you really think you could dodge me?"

Curled in her favorite chair, Kia Holtz sniffed, wiped her nose and matched him scowl for scowl. She had nearly dodged his medical attentions; his visit to Amalthea had been scheduled for only an hour. Surely bad timing had placed him just around the corner from her at the moment she doubled over from sneezing and coughing.

( Sneezes and Senses, no spoilers )

Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 929

Current Mood: sick

I wish I ...


I wish I could clone myself.

How's that for irony, hmmmm?

( Ironic but true ... )


Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 314

Current Mood: frustrated

I never thought I'd say this, but ...


... I miss New Caprica.

( Spoilers, sort of, for ep. 313, 'Taking a Break from All Your Worries' )

Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 557

Current Mood: worried

What song best describes your life?


I still can't believe he managed to get that guitar off New Caprica in one piece.

Kia watched with a gentle smile as Lou's fingers slid over frets and strings, weaving in complex patterns. Ending evenings on board Amalthea with music had started not long after the orphanage was established, to both educate and entertain the kids. Once Lou had managed to get his skilled hands on a six-string (trading Gods-only-knew what for it), the habit became a ritual, one they'd largely maintained on New Caprica ... until the Cylons arrived.

The occupation and flight had brought about changes. Some faces from the circle were gone, a few new ones had been added, but the ritual had resumed. Kia sat listening to the music while she tried to shake her melancholy. Only her staff, a few crew members and a handful of the older teenagers remained in Amalthea's main hold at this hour, listening and talking more than singing, and she found herself humming absently as she went over a list of needed supplies to be wrangled on the morrow.

( Kia's songs )

Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 577

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: Andreas Vollenweider - Painters Waltz

Sunrise


Funny. I'd never been a morning person before.

( Set during the year on New Caprica. No S3 spoilers. )

Muse: Kia Holtz
Fandom: OC from Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 713

Current Mood: optimistic