Been Down, Been Up, It's Okay

So, I have a livestream.

My intention is to stream most nights 12:30-1AM CST - just game-related stuff. Minecraft, for now.

Check it out.

Not much to say.

The doctor has me on high-grade antidepressants that take the bleeding edge off the mania and the cutting edge off the despair. They also take the edges off my thoughts. My brain feels blurry.

'sokay though.

I may/may not actually have a thyroid problem after all. Secondary test shows levels are low, but not nearly so bad as they were before. Up, down, up, down.

I have an appointment next monday to speak with an endocrinologist about it.

Fun times.

Not feeling particularly anything right now. Kind of just ... empty.

'sokay.

Everything is okay.

Everything will be okay.

Medicine (Just Like a Pill)

... Instead of making me better, it just made me ill.

So, might as well dust this off.

I have a thyroid problem. I'm not surprised really; we KNEW something was wrong. They tell me my thyroid levels are too high, so the best course of action should be to kill it with radiation - just completely obliterate a gland from my throat, but THAT'S plan A.

Or, it would be.

One small problem, however- in order to introduce the radiation to the thyroid gland, they would give me pills filled with radioactive iodine, I guess. Only, my iodine uptake levels are shit, so they literally CAN'T kill off my thyroid.

I'm not on any medication for that since apparently we're just going to wait and see what happens, but since I'm such a ball of sunshine and joy, the doctor started me on an antidepressant that isn't supposed to kick in fully for an entire month.

It's been two weeks. In that time, I have:

-had intrusive, frequent, suicidal thoughts

-had consistently depressed moods

-had brief near-manic mood swings

-had low to no appetite consistently (still hard to gauge when I'm full)

-had problems sleeping and/or slept too much

-had constant fatigue

It's 1/18/2012, do you know where your [censored] is?

So apparently I go in for testing on the 23rd and 24th to see if I have a thyroid problem. Fun. At least it's more useful than 'sleep more, noob.'


Um. Haven't felt like existing in any meaningful way in the past age. Couple months I guess. Depressed, tired. Mostly just tired. So ... damn ... tired. Oh, then I got sick and didn't recover properly so I saw a real doctor after my insurance kicked in.


It sucks.

This thing, if it passes, will result in me taking down the blog. Too risky, haven't been doing enough with it to want to risk doing time for fanfiction, thanks.

And now to go back to hiding in my hole for the end of the world to happen.


Hope it comes soon.


I can't sleep tonight.

Nobody Important 33 - Mesmerizing

((Whooooaaaa. I'm like two weeks away from an actual honest-to-god more-or-less stable work schedule. Mondays off for this week and the next. Should get a post in next Monday, too.

Not knowing when I'll have free to write makes it hard to get writing done. Plus general ill health and inability to sleep.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit this story hit 396 hits on fanfiction.net Sunday. /faint.))

If the Dunmer had wanted her dead, she wouldn't have lived to see the sunrise, painful as it may have been. That thought kept her calm when every instinct shrieked for her to run.

"Why stop?" She asked, instead.

The smith frowned ever so slightly. "What makes you think I have, fledgling?"

"I'm alive."

He nodded slowly. "There is that. Should I kill you, then? I would be within my rights, to kill a vampire in my own home, one who's hurt a mortal even." For emphasis, he gestured at the Bosmer on the bed. "The guard wouldn't care - not one person would so much as bat an eyelash, not when they saw those fangs. Would anyone mourn your passing? That boy, maybe?" She tried not to show her hurt. He was testing her, poking at her weak points. She looked down and away, ashamed she couldn't maintain her composure.

"I'll take your silence as a no."

She swallowed heavily. "I don't want to die. Not yet." She was surprised to realize it was true. She had work yet to do. Even if she didn't - even though her family was dead, even though that left a gaping wound where her heart should be, she wanted to heal. "I don't." She wanted to see Martin again, and even his Blades intrigued her.

"Should I care what you want?" He pointed at her with the blade he'd used on her bandages, expression cold. She shook her head slowly. "... Well, I do."

Her gaze snapped back to his face, she stared at him in confusion. "Fledgling ... not one person in this world will show you kindness. Most won't even show you mercy - not if they know who you are, what you are." He shook his head, sounding ... almost sad? "Most would kill you without a second thought, but you - just by your actions, you have proven you are a thinking, feeling person. You, like everyone else, have the choice to do good. Should you be slain, just because your condition makes the choice harder?"

Lyssi frowned again. "So, you don't hunt vampires."

Something about what she said must have been funny; he laughed merrily. She felt her cheeks warm once more. "No, no, fledgling. If a vampire causes problems in Anvil, I would happily rip off their limbs and stake them out for the sun. Even if I didn't, your kind cleans up their own messes. Like that beast who slaughtered the Cheydinhal guard." She stared at him once more, fear welling up. He couldn't know. "Yes, you've heard of that, haven't you. It put a lot of people on edge. I'd wager it's hard for even a normal burglar to operate in that city right now, much less a vampire."

She nodded slowly. "I had nothing to do with that." It wasn't really a lie. She hadn't exactly been in control of her actions, and she couldn't remember the details. It was almost, almost like another person entirely had done it.

He laughed again, and she smiled uncertainly in response. "Nine, no. You're a year old, fledgling. Most vampires your adge would have trouble with a gang of schoolchildren, much less the armed, armored, and most importantly, trained, organized city guard."

He reached out to ruffle her hair, laughing again when she reflexively tried to duck out of the way of his descending hand.

"Come, fledgling, help me clean up this mess, hm?"

---

They made their way into Anvil shortly after dusk, despite Ariel's protests. Martin couldn't explain the sense he had - it was an intuition, he supposed, and his gut had never steered him wrong. The Bosmer girl, this "Alyssia," would be necessary in the coming days. He was certain of it.

Ariel had a word for it. She called it "infatuation."

Martin didn't want to think terribly hard on why he was so focused on the girl. For one, he found it difficult to focus on the question itself. For another -

He spotted her by the city's lighthouse, and pointed her out to his traveling companions. Ariel gave him an odd look, then wordlessly produced a vial of potion, dabbing one drop onto each of her eyelids. It wasn't that dark out, was it?

He shook his head as Ariel gave the vial to Roth.

The Bosmer girl made her way down to the cellar of the lighthouse, producing a key.

"How do you suppose she got that, hm?" Ariel asked it quietly, so as not to draw her attention.

Martin shrugged in reply. "Let's go ask her, hm?"

The reek of gore was overpowering.

A dog sat, panting, at the Bosmer's heel, its mouth bloodied. There was the mark of long violence on the poor animal, and a half-crazed look in its eye, but it seemed calm - for the moment.

Nude bodies were stacked on the cellar's shelves - most had been partially eaten, and all had begun to rot.

The elf stood frozen at the center of the cellar, apparently frozen in place. Martin pushed away visions of Kvatch, walking the handful of steps he needed to reach her. "Alyssia," he murmured.

Her eyes were open wide, unblinking, the pupils shrunk to thin slits. Her nostrils were flared, and her mouth slightly open, putting her small fangs on display.

"Snap out of it, come on."

---

A voice called to her, serenading, crooning. It pierced the roaring triumph of the beast inside her mind, and she became a person again in bits and pieces, ever so slowly.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

Lyssi shook her head to clear it, holding up a single finger. "Need - book." She managed to bite the words out around the sick feeling in her throat. She'd spotted some kind of a journal, before she'd lost herself. Fortunately, she didn't have to explain herself any further. Understanding dawned in the priest's eyes. He covered his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his robe, peering about. "Is that a head?" He asked it in quiet wonder, and she nodded once.

It was, indeed, a head, set upon a plate, withered and rotted from age. The hair had just recently been brushed, and a careful hand had applied some kind of makeup to its face.

She couldn't focus, couldn't think. All she could hear was Martin's heartbeat, the blood surging through his veins. So much had been spilt and she wanted - needed - a taste. She felt herself shaking, every inch of her quivering like a skooma addict, desperate for a hit.

Martin was the one to spot the leatherbound journal, its pages lying open for anyone to read. Lyssi only just managed to tear her eyes away from his neck as he made his way to the book.

Outside, she could hear the sound of someone retching, and she used that to ground herself, distracting herself, momentarily, from the ravenous hunger.

Pages turned, and she had to stop him. She had to - he would learn everything.

She couldn't let herself get any closer. Martin was the only person still living that she didn't want to have to kill. She couldn't - wouldn't - let a careless mistake jeopardize his life, and she was so hungry.

"Don't," she asked, instead. There was a note of pleading in her voice she couldn't help.

Finally, she let herself glance back in his direction - surely looking wasn't so bad, was it? She wouldn't lose control just staring at him, the way his pulse jumped and danced in his throat - no. She dragged her gaze up to his face. His mouth was set in a hard, angry line as he read.

"Please, stop?"

She refused to force him, but ... it was the only way, wasn't it?

He paused then, to look from the book to the carnage. His eyes settled on her, and his expression cut her like a knife. The disgust - the betrayal. He kept his voice even, but only barely. "I healed you - I trusted in you ... you monster. Is this why you needed to get to Anvil?"

She hadn't meant for him to follow her this far. "I ..."

"You what? This looks ... bad, Alyssia." He gestured at the severed head, laughing a bit bitterly. "You're a vampire. This ... is this your lair? Your home? Is that your mother?" He pointed at the severed head. "She's dead. You might have noticed."

Wait, what?

She shook her head, just staring at him blankly. His heart was racing with his anger, and it was impossible to think with such a distraction. He threw the book at her, and she caught it in numb fingers, looking down at it in confusion. What?

"So that's it. You needed to get back, to ... what? Finish disposing of the bodies? Feed? This is revolting." He stormed toward the door, indignation in his every step. "Never speak to me again."

"I - no - listen - "

He whirled toward her again. "So you can fill my head with lies?" His eyes were like chips of ice. "Why can't I remember our first meeting, Alyssia? Is that even your real name, vampire?" She fell silent, staring down at the ground, hugging the book to her chest.

At her heel, the dog growled slightly.

"Answer me."

She felt tears welling up, but she pushed them back, swallowing heavily. "This isn't my work." Her voice sounded tiny, even to her own ears, strong as they were.

He folded his arms. "So. Why can't I remember."

"I didn't mean - " She shook her head again, swiping at her eyes.

He laughed a bit, but there wasn't any humor to it. "You didn't mean what? You didn't mean for me to find out?" He threw his hands up in the air. "Well obviously! Why else would you wipe my memory?"

"I didn't want you to know - "

He cut her off, glaring fiercely. "You violated my mind."

She flinched, staring down at the book. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. The tears fell freely. She hung her head; her hair fell in her face, partially masking her shame.

Warmth enveloped her, and she stared up at him shocked confusion. "Nine, girl. I don't know what to do with you at all." One of his hands ran through her hair, and she sensed him giving the carnage one last look. "Just ... if this is all compulsion - no, don't tell me. Not right now."

"You should go," she mumbled into his chest. He was so warm. A tiny bite wouldn't hurt, would it? The beast inside helpfully reminded her of the euphoric high his blood gave. "Should leave me."

There wasn't any conviction to her tone. She didn't want to be alone anymore.

"I'm taking you out of here." His voice was soothing, and she found herself hypnotized. His scent, the call of his blood, overpowered even the stench of the bloated corpses. She'd do anything for another taste. "After that, we can talk, okay?"

She found herself nodding in agreement with whatever he had to say, leaning in for a tiny sip.

"No biting." He swatted her once, like he might an unruly pet. She caught the finger between her teeth, nicking his skin.

It was enough.

Lightning shot through her as the first drops touched her tongue. She suckled just so,running her tongue along the digit in long, sensual strokes. A strangled noise escaped him, and he hastily retrieved his hand.

"No." He said it quietly, strain in his voice. "Not here." Her stomach calmed after only one sip.

Lyssi obliged him, stepping back with a tiny smile.

She had the feeling she'd be smiling more often in the coming nights.

She followed Martin as he quickly vacated the cellar, hugging the book to her chest. She thought she might follow him anywhere ... if only for another bite.

Chapter 32 - Poking Holes

In which inflations are deflated.

Sated, the bestial instinct subsided completely, leaving Lyssi alone with the horror of what she'd almost done. A strangled, choked-off noise escaped her, and she pressed her left hand to the boy's throat, white light suffusing the injury.

Did she have any healing potions left? The liquid did wonders to restore lost blood - no, damn it, she'd used the last one after Ungolim.

She glanced back at the smith, panic filling her. Unthinking, she shot a Command back at the Dunmer.

Find a healer, quickly!


Why did she immediately think of Martin?

The Dunmer raised an eyebrow, lowering his weapon. Didn't he understand that time was of the essence?

"Well, then."

The man paused for another long moment, then sheathed his sword. "I'll have you know, I've shaken off worse Commands from more powerful beasts than you, girl." He shook his head slightly, as though clearing cobwebs from it. "As it happens, I keep a store of healing potions in case of emergency. If my apprentice dies before I return, you will live just long enough to regret what you've done. That's a promise."

He left her there, the young Bosmer cradled to her chest, for what felt like hours. She had more than enough time for it to fully sink in that she could actually use her left arm again, though she still couldn't really breathe. There was a ... pressure. She felt like she was holding a breath, only she couldn't exhale, either.

The smith returned moments before she was sure the apprentice would have died, bearing a heavy-looking case that she thought read "First Aid."

Inside the case, she spotted a number of small, labeled vials, a roll of bandages, and a couple of scrolls. She couldn't make anything else out from where she stood. The Dunmer retrieved three vials from the case, then carefully placed them against his apprentice's lips, one by one, making sure not even a drop was wasted.

"Have you ever considered a career in medicine? There's a good girl, help me carry him back to his room." Lyssi did as commanded, relieved to realize her strength was returning enough that she didn't need any help. The smith carried his "First Aid" kit, instead.

"I forgot how strong even a little thing like you could be, with your ... condition." The smith inspected the boy's neck, and Lyssi stepped back, away from the bed. It was a nice room, with heavy drapes. Of course, a smith could afford the best.

"As I suspected, the wounds are already closed. He'll need rest, but he should recover." The Dunmer patted his apprentice's shoulder, fondly. "As for you ..."

He turned to look at her, and she felt her gaze immediately drop to the floor. "Nine, it would almost be a mercy to put you out of your misery, I think." Her head snapped up, and her eyes narrowed. Mentally, she dared him to try it. "Perhaps not. You can't speak?" She shook her head, once again making the vague throat-gesture that generally seemed to communicate her problem. "Was it recent?" She blinked, blinked again. What? She nodded slowly.

"I don't actually see any throat injuries - " the smith touched his own eyes for a moment, and she felt the low thrum of magic in the air. Then, he gently tilted her head from side to side. "Your Sire was a vicious brute, wasn't ... he? He." Callused fingers skimmed against the old scar. Experience told her that soon, it would be the only one left. The others - more recent - would likely fade quickly, if she got a chance to rest and heal fully. In response to his question, however, she could only nod.

Vicente wasn't a beast, but then, he had never bitten her.

Tears welled up unbidden.

Vicente was gone. She'd killed him.

"Focus dear, crying never helped anyone. What happened? Was it a piercing wound?" She nodded again, rubbing at her eyes.

"Ah, may I see?"

Lyssi bit her lip, glancing over at Enilroth's sleeping form. "Dear, you haven't got anything I haven't seen before and frankly, if the boy hasn't, then he could use the education." The smith gave her a long look. "None of you Bosmer women have much up top anyway. Show me."

After a long moment's deliberation, she obeyed. Slipping her arms out of the sleeves caused the dress to fall about her waist, held there only by the belt.

This garnered another long stare. "You know, I've seen worse, but it's been years. Those bandages need to be changed at the very least. Let me see." She almost jumped out of her skin when he came at her with a knife, but he was all business, cutting the cloth away with practiced ease and inspecting her injuries with a surgeon's critical eye. She noticed he wore thin leather gloves, just as Jauffre had, and was startled to spot an old bite wound on his forearm.

"I've done things I'm not proud of. I've seen good men die, and put more than a few of them down myself." She felt a pinching under her ribs, and decided she'd rather not look at what he was doing. "I'd guess you're a fledgling - less than a century?"

A rush of air escaped her chest - wasn't the problem that she couldn't take any air in?

She nodded, though he couldn't see it.

"Most vampires in your position would have dropped the boy to deal with me. They would have had to - fighters need their hands free, and it's a very, very rare mage who can cast without sound or gesture. But you ..." The smith dabbed a cold liquid against the hole he just made, and continued. "You are such a mage. But the order, 'Find a healer.'" He paused for a moment. "Try to inhale, please." She was startled to realize she could.

Inhale, exhale.

Breathing.

She was breathing!

"Good girl. How long have you been a vampire?"

She worked her jaw, taking a few practice breaths before replying. "Year?" She could speak! Her voice was all gritty, and she'd all-but forgotten how, but she could speak!

"You have remarkable control for a year-old fledgling. Military?"

She shook her head, then added a, "No," at the end, just because she could.

"Ah, well. Who was that boy you pictured? He must be important to you." The smith wrapped a fresh roll of bandages around her chest, fastening them in place with an odd metal clip. It looked a bit like a small butterfly.

"I ... that is ..."

The smith stood fully again, peeling off the gloves with some care. "Try not to blush, it wastes blood." He rubbed a clear gel between his hands. It smelled like alcohol; she wrinkled her nose. "And don't make faces. Basic sanitation prevents the spread of diseases like yours."

She took a moment to try and process what he was saying. "How do ..." She trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"How do I know all this? Dear girl, I've been hunting vampires longer than I'd wager you've been alive."

((Sorry about going MIA Monday - excessively common that. Starting my new position, in training again, no time at work to actually do bloggery anymore. Might/might not post for the next couple weeks. Probably at LEAST one a week though.))

Cubeaism 3 - What I Did

It took more effort than I expected, to destroy even a small portion of the portal. I chipped away at it for the better part of a day. It was hot, sweaty work, and it only reminded me how grimy I've become. But it was worth it. The portal wavered, then closed.

Then, I climbed the side of the shrine, dousing its flame with the ashy sand.  It's not much, but it's all I can do for now.

In the future, I'll do more work on tearing it down completely.

With that completed, I started work on my own shelter. I brought some stone and wood to work with, but I haven't had a chance to purify the stone. Wooden planks it is.

It isn't much to look at, but it will keep me safe. The evil creatures of Net roam these lands at night - Terrae's eye burns them with sunlight.

Which isn't to say I can't keep myself safe.

These lands are absolutely riddled with Net's minions, and there is only one solution for that ... problem. 

Yes, that is a skeleton riding a spider.

An initiate of Penna who has spoken her vows may not directly kill another living being, regardless of circumstance. She may also not consume any kind of meat, though fruits, breads, cakes, and even my favorite kind of food, doughnuts, are allowed. 

I have not yet spoken my vows, and I always was a good shot with a bow. Mother would have died of embarrassment, I think, if I wasn't.

The creatures didn't even wait for me to leave my shelter. I had to defend myself from the moment I set foot outside. 

On the other hand, the tall, destructive creatures known as Endermen, semi-solid and full of hate, are present in large numbers. Although somewhat difficult to combat, due to their nature, I killed three of them on my own, and the daylight did the rest. I collected five of their cores - their 'pearls,' so to speak. I think I can do something wonderful with these innately magical gems.

I still cannot stand what the followers of Net have done to my home, nor can I believe it was only one man to wreak so much harm. But hunting these evil creatures has brought me a measure of peace for the night.

Cubeaism 2 - What I Expected

This ... is not what I expected.

Right now I've bedded down in a small hovel with my supplies, waiting for day. I have to get my bearings.

There is a desert where my home once was. It's ... it's wrong, is what it is. I know the mountains here, I know is landscape.

This cannot have been the work of just one man. I'm going to need to collect some more supplies for this. I had planned to replant the forest, to rebuild what I remember of my home.

With this, I'll be lucky if I manage to build an oasis.

It isn't a complete loss. There is some forest in the surrounding areas, and a small grassland surrounding a lake not far from here.

Was this entire journey a waste? I hope not.

I wandered the edges of the desert for a while, my mind churning. This couldn't be right, I took a wrong turn. I was in the wrong place.

And then I found my old doll. Little Steve. He's a bit smudged and ashy, slightly charred - but recognizable.

I never thought I'd see him again, after I dropped him that night.

More than that, though, I found an explanation for what's happened here.

A shrine to Net, a black scar on the land, rose up out of the sand, a horrible reminder of an old wound. I'm positive it stands where the main shrine to Terrae once stood. It makes an awful kind of sense.

Tomorrow I will work on destroying it - I don't feel comfortable with that portal active. I can hear ... things ... scuttling about, beyond.

Cubeaism 1 - What They Said

((Story based on this thing here.))

They say that it took only one man to destroy my entire way of life.

My family were devout worshipers of Terrae, She Who is Life. We lived in a forest stronghold, with watchtowers placed in all directions. They hunted the wild animals for sustenance, and the evil creatures that dared enter our domain for sport. I was young and eager, and I wanted nothing more than to join them in the hunt.

Then, the fires came.

They say it was a man angered by the gods. He was what we now call an alchemist, a man who wielded great and terrible power.

One night, he walked unseen into our most sacred place and by merely raising his hands, he set all the forest ablaze. His presence burned so brightly that around him, the lakes dried up. The land itself burned.

Nothing was safe.

No one was safe.

My family fought valiantly, but there was no force of arms great enough to overcome the man.

I remember Mother telling me to run, flee the forest. She sent me to the disciples of Penna, where all may know peace and safety in their lofty temples.

My family were warriors.

I now follow a different path.

I will bring the blessed light of Penna to all the world, and I will use the same magic that man used.

Where he destroyed, I hope to rebuild.

Perhaps ... perhaps one day I will know what drove the man to act as he did.

I have left the safety of the Moon Garden Temple at the suggestion and blessing of my teachers. By myself, with the magic I now harness, I will build a new temple in Penna's blessed name.

I shall name it the Temple of Fallen Stars. It will stand above the charred ruin of my family's home, a monument in their honor.

So mote it be.

Mod Interactivity - Equivalent Exchange, Better Than Wolves

(Because who needs emotion anyway?)

So, I've been playing around with mods in Minecraft recently, because when I get a game I tend to play it vanilla for a short stretch of time, then find out what other people have done to bend the engine's arm behind its back.

Minecraft is one of the better games out there to play modded, I think, and here's why:

Mod interactivity.

Hear me out - I know a lot of mods end up being incompatible with one another due to block IDs. And I know Notch pretty much deliberately made it hell to mod the game what with the code obfuscation and the lack of an official mod API and all.

However, once you get the blocks all in the game and past the inevitable black screen of death, lots of mods play really nicely together.

Here's an example: Right now I'm derping around with Better Than Wolves and Equivalent Exchange (plus a handful of others, notably Timber! and Clay Soldiers).

With Equivalent Exchange (it's an alchemy mod, by the way), once you get your philosopher's stone, you can turn a whole bunch of things into a whole bunch of other things at relatively low resource cost. In practice this means things like 'turn flowers into pumpkins into melons so you don't have to find a death mineshaft (oh god cave spiders why) to start farming resources.

It also gives you basically unlimited redstone and/or glowstone out of sugar cane, essentially turning all resources in the game (Lava is coal + redstone + bucket + philo stone) into renewable resources. Powerful stuff.

But how does that interact with Better than Wolves?

Let me explain what Better than Wolves is if you're not interested in googling it yourself (the name is a non-indicative jab at Notch's penchant for adding random trivial content) - the mod basically aims to add an endgame made of mechanical power to minecraft. To that end, you have things like windmills and water wheels, hemp plants and ground up souls of the damned, all to make you the undisputed ruler of your world. (So you can better crush any zombie uprisings, see?)

It also adds elevators which is just damn cool, I don't care who you are.


Now, your first water wheel generally will be made with glue because slimes are difficult to find and ridiculously rare besides. That involves a trip or several to the Nether to build a hibachi, plus the understanding of how to work mechanical power (if you just installed Better than Wolves you probably don't have that understanding) to stoke a fire using a bellows.

With Equivalent Exchange, instead of doing all that, you can take a bucket of water, some normal seeds, a sapling, and some sugarcane, and grind it all up until you've made a whole mess of slimeballs.

One of the cooler features of Better than Wolves is the block dispenser, which is critical to creating companion cubes (you monster), and also most forms of automated farming. Trouble is, it requires mossy cobblestone. I've only legitimately found a handful of dungeons in my entire time playing the game. The spider dungeon challenge aside, I've never really built anything out of mossy cobble because it's so damn rare.

Equivalent Exchange has a solution for that, as well! Seeds + Cobblestone = Mossy Cobblestone.

Basically, the two mods play off of each other in fun and interesting ways, because they both use the standard items - just in new and interesting ways. Sure I can't, say, transmute normal seeds into hemp seeds - but the mods compliment each other so nicely that sometimes I actually forget that isn't possible.

Of course, somebody else is doing something more impressive than I have the patience for with this combination, that's how I discovered it and that's ultimately why I downgraded back to 1.8.1 from the 1.9 prereleases. Good job, Stormweaver.