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About Deviant NemonusFemale/United States Groups :iconswfanficclub: SWFanFicClub
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Deviant for 10 Years
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RvB by Nemonus RvB :iconnemonus:Nemonus 11 7 Qunari by Nemonus Qunari :iconnemonus:Nemonus 2 2
FFM 31
There was a lightning strike in the middle of a corn field. The corn had been harvested, leaving only the neat rows vomited up under the tractor, rocks and chaff, browning stalks. The gatekeeper walks carefully to the middle of the field and finds the lightning scar. There it places the white stone, and then another, and then another.
The process becomes increasingly slow, since the gatekeeper must venture farther and farther to find its stones, although there is not a shortage of white stones when one also considers grey-white and crystal and dirty white and tan.
It finds the stones on the sides of roads and in quarries and junkyards, and places them in a spiral starting in the middle of the field, going up and down as it crosses the furrows.
The gatekeeper may finish the spiral before the next harvest. Sometimes it does.
Many, but not all, people say that the gatekeeper is blind.
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 0 2
FFM 30
The dragon pressed its head against the glass. The paddle-feet were visible somewhere back in the blue-green water, but Jacob could only see them as moving black shapes in the lesser murk.
Georgia giggled and pulled away from the tank. “It’s watching you.”
Jacob wanted to have some kind of retort, but it was - the dragon was interested in him as food or entertainment, and one green paw swiped lazily in the direction of the glass, stirring up tiny bubbles in the water.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, and backed away.
They looked at all the other animals in the zoo: the smaller dragons in their cages, no bigger than geckos but illegal for homes because of the flames; the oddly human sphinx with her animal eyes; the manticore groveling at its keeper’s trap door. They saw koalas in trees, capybaras rooting in their Zenlike focus.
Outside the gate to the zoo Jacob looked back and saw the tiger and the dragon, heraldic, the zoo’s two greatest dr
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FFM 29
We had a problem when she liked season three and I didn’t, but our friendship survived it.
The first time I met her I saw the book she was reading and asked her whether it represented her core philosophy. She said she didn’t have one.
We played pretend after that; we invented causes. After the season two finale we drove together in my car (it was the first time I had driven anyone who wasn’t family) to the other side of town and talked about how the universe began.
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 1 2
FFM 28
She stood on the ladder as the train started moving, smoke eking out from under the wheels, the thick drive arm chugging a few feet from her bare legs. The people at the other end of the platform had started to run, men and women wafting toward her like leaves. Later she would feel that they were unreal, like the storied, summers of 1921, like jazz itself was trumpeting toward her. But the great drumbeat of the train kept on, and she pulled herself up the ladder. The bundle inside the suitcase shifted.
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FFM 27
Once, he waited. He waited for a long time. On the wharf and in his house and on the porch, staring at the brown walls. He wore shabby trench coats and cut his hair so that he did not have to wash it as often, or so he figured, and he waited.
On the other side of the ocean, she explored jungles and drove Jeeps down dirt roads. She combed leaves and bugs out of her long, blonde hair. She thought of her thoughts and she dreamed of her dreams.
One day, she came back across the sea carrying a heavy envelope.
She found the porch and the house with the brown walls. The man was sitting on the stoop.
She let the envelope slip into his hands and he looked up, his mouth dry, and then tore into the manila packaging with his nails like it was food and he was starving. Grey flacks of packing material were strewn across the porch.
He opened the box and took out a photograph of a dark-haired woman. The glass was cracked.
The mercenary said, “I’m sorry.”
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 0 0
FFM 26
You took everything away.
You took my land, my servants. My towns and their cattle.
The prophetic fog swirls, seeps into the cracks in the old castle walls. I walk here safe, comfortable, looking forward to the blue quilt on my bed. The prophecy stays with me, though. It has to, as much as a map of the battlefield stays with a general. I will take care of this.
And you, the hero. Your face in that cloud somewhere, your body wreathed in smoke. I saw suggestions of armor, of thick leather plates and knots, of the horns of a deer.
You took everything away from me. You just don’t know it yet.
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 1 2
FFM 25
“You take this, and you don’t let it go.”
“Why us?” I asked. The swathed bundle settled into my arms like something liquid, threatening to spill over the sides of my hands, heavy and soft. “We aren’t good at keeping secrets.”
“You aren’t known for breaking your word, either.” She had short, blonde hair that almost curled, strong cheekbones,  a square face and square shoulders. Brightly-colored clothes, although I supposed that to some they might appear military and drab. “The best way to keep a secret is to forget that you know it’s there. Keep this away from us.”
The bundle had stopped shifting. I thought of the tower behind me, where we would keep it. “What is it? Does it require any...fortifications?” I almost said ‘care and feeding.’
“No. Just a place to be.” She glanced at the driveway, the dark cars, her attendants or lieutenants.
“What is it?”
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 0 0
Star Wars: Freedom (FFM 24)
Darth Sidious has emerged from Senator Palpatine like a soul stepping out of a body, and put on Emperor Palpatine as a cloak.
It is delicious to have his identity revealed: in ridding the galaxy of the Jedi he is also ridding it of a particular blind brand of stupidity. The Jedi had proven their own uselessness, day after day that they had not found him, and now everyone in the galaxy will know their mistake except the Jedi themselves.
Sidious looks down at the last Jedi. Darth Vader, his name so new on Sidious’ and Anakin’s tongues although it has waited in Sidious’ mind for long, dark years, stewing in the dusty corners of his brain. A thick sheet of plasteel separates Sidious from the medical droids and their gristly work around the darkened table and lumpen machinery of the secret hospital.
The operating room is sterile, and Sidious does not wish to contaminate it with his presence: he could, if he wished, meditate for some time, especially here under the dark shr
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 3 0
FFM 23
The swarm comes at you fast. They’re not smart, whatever these are: they’re basically big bugs, and you slash your sword around in a clogged sky filled with enemies. Bugs drop and smoke from the electric edge of the energy blade, and you get into a rhythm of slashing back and forth. But that’s a problem, or it becomes one in a moment when the things start reaching you with their weight, big green bodies almost the same color as your armor but uncomfortably squishy.
You are driven back, but already the cloud of enemies is thinning. You turn to bisect one bug and step on another that was going for your leg. They’re aliens with six legs and round jewel-like bodies. If there’s a head you can’t tell where it is, but yellow fuzzy eyespots decorate their backs and confuse you.
You slash and spin and strike and the swarm ends.
Twenty minutes blinks on your HUD. A decent time. People have done better. You step out of the training pod, shuck your helmet, run y
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 1 0
FFM 22
In the spring she stood on the porch and shivered, because the lights were too bright and she would have to fake wanting to be here again, have to pretend that she enjoyed checking these boxes, that gameification was working, that Wendy had abandoned the window seat to go out to her office.
In the summer she spent less time at home and imagined that people rode by her porch on bicycles or in cars or on their feet, on wheelchairs or motorcycles or horses. Some of them she did not have to imagine. Her house was a background to them, the repeating cartoon strip of chimney and fences.
In the fall she ran way for a few months.
Winter -
Winter hasn’t happened yet.
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 1 0
FFM 21
The wolves were coming. He could hear them in the blizzard, howling in the distance. That was foolish. Now he knew where they were.
He cursed under his breath as he kicked through the snow, knowing that he should have brought snowshoes if he was going to go to Minnesota to hide out. He’d never gone this far north before - and had never had to leave town like this before.
Usually the troubles he faced in new towns were smaller: councils who didn’t like that he wanted a hedge around his yard, not a big enough deer population, not enmity from the townspeople but simply a persistent, depressing lack of friends. He didn’t run into a lot of people who suspected him. No one believed in werewolves.
This time, though, the packs - not even just one, of resident Minnesota werewolves -
believed him. He wasn’t sure why this town attracted them like a lodestone. A lot of the people were normal, going to the grocery stores, commuting to the city. Maybe once it had been a kind
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 1 4
FFM 20
The people wearing the wristbands called it Mourners’ Day instead of Couples’ Day, and did their daily chores around the village with the ominous slouch of crows.
Becca wasn’t in the mood to talk to people, no matter what their band indicated: she had endured in a sort of forced cheer for most of the morning, until the unexplainably meaningful act of stepping over the threshold into the general store had struck her with the realization that she was very deep in denial.
Her meeting with Drake was unintentional. He was standing at a shelf, looking over the cups of incense and boxes of matches that filled the stocky wooden frame. She leaned over to look at a new scent, putting her face close to the black band on his arm, and said “Excuse me.”
He thought she was asking him a question. Or, she thought later, was feeling the exact opposite of her bitter clammishness.  
He turned around, showing a pale face liberally covered with brown stubble. His brown eyes loo
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FFM 17
There’s nothing to it.
To stories.
We were running out of places to go that we hadn’t been before. Secret places were still secret but they didn’t change. With acres and acres of college and suburb land around us we walked a lot, usually in the evening so people wouldn’t see us, sometimes in the daylight so that they would. Small variations of mood and how much we’d talked that day and how we’d done in classes determined which one it would be. We asked each other so much that it would become a rhythm. “Do you want to walk tonight?”
When we really ran out of destinations we tried the gates. The college liked to surround us with walls. I thought that was both normal and grand. (There had once been an estate here. There had once been a private train station that was no longer private. There had once been many more people locked out than in, but at least one locked in.)
The chain-link gate was shut but we slid under, pushing our purses under
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 0 3
FFM 19
“It’s jail, mommy. “
“Are you playing cops and robbers?”
“No. It’s just jail.”
The little boy looked out from behind his pillow fort. The other children were nowhere to be seen. Robin knew that she needed to go find them too, since they belonged to the neighbors and shouldn’t be misplaced, but her son’s willingness to stay behind pretend barriers disturbed her, and seemed a symptom of other shynesses and worries that he had developed since Anthony had left for the war. Weren’t boy children supposed to want to be fierce like their fathers? Anthony was more quiet than fierce yes, but - he would come back.
(There was no use thinking like that, no use trying to predict anything. That’s why she liked to just live day-to-day, calling him in the evening at the same time each day whether he picked up or not, keeping the rhythm.)
“Daddy’s going to be home soon.”
“It’s still jail.”
:iconnemonus:Nemonus 0 3


United States
The Nem is composed of equal parts of the following:

people falling out of spaceships. artificial intelligence. karate. poultry. cyborgs. critters with sharp teeth. head pipes. car metaphors. people driven crazy by machines. space acrobatics.

Shake well and serve.
Thank you all for the birthday wishes. This is, I suppose, another 'I'm here sometimes, but rarely' journal; I come on to chat with Xephinetsa, and then lurk away again. Star Wars is slowly becoming my main fandom again, and has come to effect almost every part of my life except the day job and, strangely, the fan fiction.

With new The Clone Wars and Rebels material shown at Celebration, I'm excited for Star Wars fandom and for the movies that are coming next. Writing about The Clone Wars was always enjoyable for me here, so, in a way, this journal feels like the completion of a circle.
  • Watching: Star Wars: Rebels
  • Playing: Destiny
My novel-length Halo fic "If There Are Wolves Among The Stars" has a small sequel now, After The Long Winter.

I feel sortof weird blowing my own horn about that when I'm not just posting it here, but I know several people here enjoyed that story, and it was by far the story of mine that got the most fanart. 
  • Playing: Pokemon Y


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Dragunalb Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2016  Student Traditional Artist
Thanks for the fave on =)
Thar and Flar bases by Dragunalb
Xephinetsa Featured By Owner May 21, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Last night a suitably emotional song played while I was reading about Halsey's arrest. I thought I'd share it with you. Silence of Siberia
Nemonus Featured By Owner May 28, 2015
Oh, wow. That song fits Halo so well. It wouldn't be out of place in Reach, either!
Xephinetsa Featured By Owner May 29, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Yess!! I know, right? It's perfect.
Xephinetsa Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hey, Nem. Could you send this to mumbly so she sees it? :heart:
Nemonus Featured By Owner May 1, 2015
Sure. ^_^
DarthWill3 Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Happy birthday!
awesomemortalkombat3 Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday! :D :cake:
Xephinetsa Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Slice of Red Velvet Cake Emote Happy birthday, Nem! Not sure if this message is late or not, because our time zones are very different. I hope you have/had a lovely, lovely day! And I hope you sufficiently celebrated the day of your birth! I'm glad you were born so that we could get to know each other. Here's to many more years of Nem! :heart:
Nemonus Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2015
Thank you, that's so sweet! <3
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