Hufflepuff Vir- by titania_le_fey

Oh, I have some of his vids!

Jimmy Stewart
You scored 7% Tough, 0% Roguish, 76% Friendly, and 19% Charming!
You are the fun and friendly boy next door, the classic nice guy who still manages to get the girl most of the time. You're every nice girl's dreamboat, open and kind, nutty and charming, even a little mischievous at times, but always a real stand up guy. You're dependable and forthright, and women are drawn to your reliability, even as they're dazzled by your sense of adventure and fun. You try to be tough when you need to be, and will gladly stand up for any damsel in distress, but you'd rather catch a girl with a little bit of flair. Your leading ladies include Jean Arthur and Donna Reed, those sweet girl-next-door types.

Find out what kind of classic dame you'd make by taking the Classic Dames Test.





My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:


free online dating free online dating
You scored higher than 3% on Tough

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You scored higher than 0% on Roguish

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You scored higher than 99% on Friendly

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You scored higher than 18% on Charming
Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating


And I suppose this oracle isn't wrong. Except... nutty?

[OOC: Hah! I knew Vir would get this answer even before I took the test. *g*]
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Early Vir- by ruuger

Greatest Strength

What is your greatest strength?

Author's Note: This vignette- an old snippet from my Notebook of Fic-Like Stuff- takes place in late 2257, after Vir learns of his assignment to Babylon 5.

Departures

The Centauri sun hung low on the horizon, coloring the thinly spun web of clouds that stretched across the sky a brilliant shade of pink. An evening breeze whistled through the trees, cooling Vir Cotto’s face with a gentle caress. He closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of mud and linfra and river reeds, knowing that it was probably that smell he would miss the most.

"I'm not sure I want to leave," he said softly.

Ugo, the gardener, paused in his shoveling and replied with typical simplicity: "Then don't."

Vir flashed the old man a startled look. "I-I-I don't mean..." he stammered. "I mean, I suppose I've always wanted to see what's out there." His gesture took in the darkening sky. "You know... to find out more about the Humans and the Minbari and everyone else. But I never really thought about how it would feel to leave home. And maybe... maybe I didn't quite imagine that this is how I would get the chance." Vir stared at the flower resting in his open palm, running one finger over the silky petals and watching them change color at his touch. "They don't want me," he said, and he finally permitted himself to feel the sadness behind those words.

Ugo put down his shovel, his expression taking on a serious cast. "Vir," he began, and Vir was surprised once again. In all the years that Vir had known him, Ugo had addressed him as "young mister Cotto." Not once- until now- had he ever broken that convention. "You are a good boy. You mean well. But if you want to be a good man, you must be willing to fight on your own behalf.

"Some men are deserving of your respect and obedience, Vir. And some," and here Ugo cast a disapproving look at the estate, "are not. The challenge is in learning to tell the difference.

Vir didn't know quite what to say to that. He didn't know why Ugo was saying this to him in the first place. Ugo, however, seemed untroubled that Vir did not reply. Plunking his shovel into the dirt, he mused, "I suppose that will have to stand as my final piece of advice to you, young Mr. Cotto. Make of it what you will."

"Final? But we'll see each other again. I can-"

Ugo held up his gnarled hand and Vir fell silent. "I am old and I am tired. And when I look into the mirror these recent mornings, I see the old man of my dream reflected back. I strongly suspect that my death is not far off." Vir broke eye contact, and off of that reaction, Ugo continued: "It's not a tragedy, Vir. I have lived a long and full life- thanks in part to your company."

Blinking back sudden tears, Vir stood and launched himself at Ugo, trapping him in a tight hug. The force and weight behind it was so great, in fact, that Vir nearly sent both of them into a nearby stream. "I'll miss you," he whispered fiercly, trying not to cry.

Ugo stumbled as he sought to restore his center of gravity, then awkwardly returned the embrace. When he finally pulled away, he smiled fondly at Vir. "You are still the same boy who drove me mad saving the lives of all our garden pests." Ugo rested a hand on Vir's chest. "Despite what your uncle might say, this is your greatest strength. Don't ever let anyone or anything change that part of you."

His lower lip quivering a little, Vir hugged Ugo again, tighter than before.

It was indeed the last time they ever spoke.
Innocence Lost- by kathyh

My Favorite Time of Day

What is your favorite time of day? Why?

This is somewhat difficult to decide. I’m really not sure I have just one answer.

On the one hand, there is something to be said for the evening, when all our daily obligations have been settled. In the evening, I sometimes accompany Londo to the Humans' cocktail hour. I don’t usually drink, but the conversation is good- and watching Londo smile and laugh is even better. He’s always much happier when he has the chance to entertain a crowd.

In the evening, cocktail hour or not, Londo and I almost always share supper together. Most of the time, I prepare it myself, which I find a pleasant, distracting challenge. Then, depending on who might be visiting the station on a particular night, we may take in a show, which usually leads to a discussion, which usually leads to Londo teasing me, which I don’t mind at all. In fact, I miss all of that when he’s away.

In the evening, I always bathe. Londo’s hand is in this too. He was the one who negotiated with the other diplomatic delegations to buy their unused water rations. He’s also given me oils and soaps and other things as gifts. For my first few years on the station, I lived without a bath, and I survived, certainly. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t fully enjoy the opportunity now. Back home, of course, I could stay in the bath for far longer, replenishing when the water grew cold. Still, even here, I stay until my fingers wrinkle and the bubbles disappear. I like closing my eyes and just breathing in the scent of the soap and the oil and the steam, letting all my muscles loosen after a long day.

In the evening, after washing, I wiggle into my nightclothes and curl up under my sheets, which is always a wonderful sensation when I’m tired. Sometimes, for a little while, I lie awake reading, though if I do go to bed with a book, I almost always fall asleep mid-sentence, the book still on my chest.

At least, that’s how my evenings go on normal, relatively quiet days. On normal days, perhaps I do like the evenings the most.

Lately, though, I’m afraid normal days have become not quite so normal. Lately, I’ve started to appreciate the morning.

I usually rise between 05:00 and 06:00 Standard, which is a little earlier than needed most days, but gives me time for a sort of personal ritual that I’ve made a daily habit since the war. Every morning, after I’ve dressed for the day, I go for a walk. I visit the gardens and sit for a time, listening to the cycling of the hydroponics systems, the whir of the passing central transport tube- all the sounds of the station waking up. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I see a crop of flowers bloom, or smell a newly ripe crop of fruit. Maybe it seems strange to some of you, but all of this helps to remind me that we are still here- that life goes on and that a lot of it is amazing and good.

Then, after the gardens, I go to the Sanctuary alone to look for our star. Looking for home reminds me why I’m here and who I serve. But seeing our star as one among many also reminds me that we are not alone in the universe. That all of us came from the stars. That there are mysteries and dangers out there that are better faced when we have allies. That we rise and fall together and that together, we are strong.

Finally, from an observation port, I watch the sunrise on Epsilon 3. Sunrise in space is starker, but still beautiful in its way. It still helps me to remember that every day begins in hope and promise. And when things are especially bad, that hope can make a lot of difference. When things are difficult, morning means new beginnings, new chances, new opportunities to make things right.

When there is trouble, I think I like mornings the most.
Quiet Winter- by muffinmonster

TM Catch-Up: Loneliness

When in your life did you feel the most alone?

Historian’s Note: The following is an entry found in The Chronicles of Vir Cotto. Commentary regarding other accounts of the events mentioned by Cotto I below- including the equally personal account written by Mollari II- can be found in Appendix A.

“Tell me again how you saved the world.”

Many times in the past several years, Luc Deradi, former ward of House Mollari and now a ward of my own house, has demanded the story of the Legions of Fire from me- and I have told him, to the best of my ability, all that I believe a boy of his age should know. As you might expect, as time has gone by and Luc has gotten older, his questions have changed- and along with them, the story itself.

I don’t think I’ve ever been truly aware of how close to manhood Luc is now until he asked me tonight: “Were you ever lonely?”

“Yes,” I finally said quietly after a long moment of thought. Then I sighed. “I will tell you the truth, Luc- I never wanted to be a hero. And if the Great Maker spares you from that sort of destiny, no one will be happier than me. In my life, I’ve been lonely many times- but I was never lonelier than I was in those years before the defeat of the Drakh.”

Sitting here now, I still remember an empty corridor in the dungeons of the palace.

I did not yet know what exactly Londo had sacrificed for all of us. I didn’t know the true shape of things. All I really had to go on were the whispers of wizards who warned that an evil was taking root in the Centauri Republic and that the man I counted as my dearest friend was at the center of it all somehow. They told me to go to Londo, arming me only with alcohol and a mysterious name- and I went because I believed then that I had very little left to lose.

Londo imprisoned me for one night. I was unconscious for all but the final few hours, but those few hours were enough to make an impression. “Maybe you remember, or maybe you were too young,” I told Luc, “but a short time after my coronation, I arranged for our dungeons to be cleaned and cleared of vermin and for the manacles to be removed. I wrote the order for humanitarian reasons for the most part, but… but I have to admit, my memory of the smell did put the issue into sharper focus.”

“And your time in that cell… that was when you felt the loneliest?” Luc asked, patiently steering his rambling emperor back on track.

“I was confused. I was scared. But I didn’t feel truly lonely until Londo came to release me and told me to keep my distance. I don’t think he ever truly believed that I would honor that request, but… but he still wanted to protect me. He told me to return to Babylon 5 and keep my head out of the line of fire. I told him I couldn’t do that. And then… and then Londo left me alone.”

And, my head still aching from the force of Londo’s blow the night before, I stepped into the corridor more terrified of my future- more uncertain that I would ever know Londo as a friend again- than I had ever been before.

“I felt lonely during my youth,” I said. “I often felt lonely during the worst days of the Great War. I felt lonely days before, when I learned that…” In my hesitation, I felt a familiar ache in the center of my chest. “When I learned that the woman I believed to be my beloved had been betraying me all along. Loneliness had never been a stranger to me, but… but my loneliness had never been more complete than it was in that empty hall, Luc, as I walked out to meet the strange and twisted destiny that awaited me. Because this time, I feared Londo, my best friend, couldn’t come with me. Because I feared we would not be able to face this great evil together, as we had faced evil before. Because I feared Londo would truly become my enemy at last.”

“But you were wrong,” Luc pointed out, and I smiled sadly.

“You’re right. And that’s the hope in this story. That was the hope in Londo Mollari. And even with everything he did… we should never forget that there was that fragile hope in the end.”

Londo was, in some ways, a lot stronger than many gave him credit for.
Always Will I Love- by iamsab

TM Catch-Up: Heart's Desire/Trading Lives

Note: The point of view I’ve chosen to take for this ficlet is somewhat… different. You’ll see what I mean. ;)

Additionally, this ficlet stands as a joint answer to the following two questions:

If you could trade lives with one person for a day, who would it be, and what would you do?

and


Think about something you once wanted so badly but never acquired. Write about how you think your life would’ve been different if you had received what your heart desired.

Transference

I am an anthropologist- an historian. I wrote my doctoral dissertation on the Narn followers of the prophet G’Kar. I have spent the better part of the past ten years studying the Narn and Centauri both. They are tied together, these civilizations. I discovered very early on that one could not study one without being led to the other. The existing records on the personal life of the Centauri emperor who reigned immediately before the Restoration even point to a possible sexual relationship with the Narn’s greatest prophet- but I learned quickly never to mention such possibilities aloud in the field.

You have asked me, Nathan, to describe my most moving experience in the past decade. I will tell you of a Centauri girl I met very early in my career- a member of a sect which reveres Cotto I, the first emperor of the Restoration, as a god of love.

One night, as I sat gazing at the stars on the banks of the Edro River, I asked the young Liliana, who had always been patient with my naiveté and endless questions, to explain to me why the Centauri had two deities in their pantheon who represented the concept of love. Liliana smiled, leaned back amidst the river reeds, and said:

“There is a legend among our people that may help you to understand.”

As Liliana’s people tell it, two thousand years ago, when the god Vir Cotto lived in flesh and blood, he discovered that Emperor Mollari, his mentor and the calling of his heart, had been possessed by a demon. On the night of his discovery, as he wept for the soul of his greatest friend, he was visited by the goddess Alur.

Cotto, who was uncertain in his belief- and even more uncertain that he was deserving- sank to the floor in confusion and awe. And Alur told him that the gods had seen his suffering and had grieved for it- but had also rejoiced, for it was clear that Cotto was profoundly brave and profoundly kind.

On that night, the goddess Alur offered Cotto his heart’s desire. “Whatever you ask, we shall grant, for we have seen the true nature of your soul and know that it is good.”

Cotto wiped his eyes, bowed his head, and said: “There is only one thing I truly desire. I wish to swallow my friend’s demon into myself and leave him to his freedom.”

“What you ask,” Alur replied, “is an honorable sacrifice, but it is one we cannot give for more than the time between sunrises. His future and yours have been written in the stars and cannot be altered. But if this is truly your desire, go to your friend after the morning meal and grant him his freedom for the one day we can provide.”

The following morning, Cotto came to the palace and asked for an audience with the emperor. Seized with terror of the demon’s retribution, Mollari refused Cotto entry that morning and the following four mornings thereafter. But Cotto did not relent, and in time, the strength of his devotion was rewarded.

When he entered the throne room on the sixth morning, Cotto looked upon his friend and almost cried in despair for his new knowledge. But holding firmly to his purpose, he approached Mollari until he could touch the brocade of his ceremonial white.

“Your burdens are grave,” Cotto said, “and I cannot carry them for you. But I can grant you a reprieve for a time, however brief. Use it, my dear friend.”

Cotto touched his forehead to Mollari’s, and in a flash of brilliant light, he felt himself change. He felt the ache of his friend’s joints and the heaviness of his chest. He felt the cruel presence of the demon. And at once, he felt pain, for the imprisoned Mollari had escaped and the demon was wroth. Mollari stared at him in horror through Cotto’s own eyes and begged him to reconsider.

“The gods will carry me as I have pledged to carry you for the remainder of my days,” Cotto gasped. “Go now and be free.”

“And until the next sunrise,” Liliana finished that night among the reeds, “Cotto bore his friend’s burden through a transference of souls- and the gods themselves guarded the lives of both, holding the demon at bay.” Then she sat up and looked me in the eye. “There are many different kinds of love, Dr. Wallace. One day, I should also tell you the story of the eye of Li.”

I had many questions then. I wondered, for instance, why, if this legend carried with it the hint of truth, Mollari did not take such an opportunity to strike at the Drakh and end the terrible Dark Age. But something in Liliana’s eyes stilled my tongue.

As scholars, Nathan, we have a duty to the truth of things. But we must never forget the power of legends to inspire. Two years later, I learned that Liliana had died in a shuttle accident- that she had offered her seat in a lifepod to someone else.