Warning: smooshy and baby related content. Not safe for the emotionally diabetic.

Laila floated serenely in her bath, head, neck and shoulders supported in one of her father's strong hands. The other hand was running a soft washcloth over her body. Laila gazed into his eyes as if listening to him, and taking what he was saying very seriously.


"It is everywhere." her father's voice was crooning. "You have spit-up between your fingers, and on your forehead, and poo between your toes -- however did you manage that? I thought I got it all with the wipies, but I was wrong."

Joslire was grateful that the cord stump had fallen off, because he was rather squeamish about the appearance of the shrivelled thing -- like a dried worm such as one finds on the sidewalk after a rain. The fact that he could watch her as she discovered the joys of floating in water was an unexpected bonus.

"You are getting to be such a big girl. You are, let me see, it is the 19th, you are two weeks old today!" Then he froze.

"And your mommy and daddy's anniversary was four days ago." He added with a sinking heart.

Joslire paid very close attention to the nurses' every explanation -- about how the babe would need sponge baths only until the cord stump fell off, and how to fold the front of diapers down to keep it dry -- with the same trepidation he attended to lectures on the proper safety precautions to be observed around a battle cannon. He sighed with relief when Laura dressed Laila in her chosen going home outfit, and the anxiety-provoking shriveled thing was hidden away.

He nestled Laila, who slept oblivious to the momentousness of the occasion against his shoulder, to allow Laura to dress herself.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Joslire was smiling as he walked back from the forge. He had built the tiniest of steel smelting furnaces, and today's miniscule batch of steel was nearly the true steel. The steel of his ancestor's was strong enough to bend nearly perpendicular and return to true, and yet hold an edge that could slice through a falling silk scarf. The secret was in certain herbs added to the iron--plants very high in carbon and silicon. Joslire was getting very close to the right proportions. He would have Steel soon. Steel to hand down to his child. A child to hand the steel down to.

Joslire paused with his hand on the door to the room. His joy was pure, and strong, yet alloyed with the uncertainty of what emotional and mental state he would find the mother of the child in when he opened the door.

He opened it nonetheless, and said,

"I'm home, baby," as he looked around for her.

Joslire was used to being in medical rooms with Laura, but never in conditions like this, with both of them smiling, still anxious, but with excitement rather than misgivings...it was still too cold. Always too cold. He looked down at his Laura where she lay on the table, and smiled at her.

Taken from hot_flashes This post

The rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying anything random, like a favorite lyric to your current favorite song. Or your favorite kind of sandwich. Something random. Anything.
2. I'll respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better.
3. Update your LJ with the completely honest answers to the questions.
4. Include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be asked, you will ask them five questions.

The questions:

1. How does the first sentence of that quote relate to the second sentence?

2. Does your name have a specific meaning? If so, what is it?

3. What is your favorite season, if you come from a place that has seasons, and why?

4. What is your favorite book?

5. When you first see something from far away, do you prefer it more or less when you see it up close? (Actually seeing something, as opposed to a philosophical question.)

My answers:

1. My understanding of it (others may have perfectly valid, but different ones) is that when one loves someone, God is visible through them. I see aspects of that which would be called 'Godly' when I look upon Andrej, Laura, even Stildyne (but don't tell him)...

2. Before I turned the sacred knives over to Andrej, to free them from my slavery, I was a free Emandisan Knife Fighter(the closest analogues I can find to that position in my society people in the village might understand are something between Jedi and Mountie)

3. The seasons of my homeworld were limited to hot and wet and hotter and dry. Both had their beauties, but there was always a lift of spirits when the rains fell. Here in the village I was awestruck by the beauty of Autumn.

4. I have not read many books for pleasure, but I really like The story of Pi it is entertaining in itself, and can mean something a little different every time one reads it.

5. I always prefer to see things up close. People say that 'the whole is more than the sum of it's parts'; I say that the parts are more than pieces of a whole.

Joslire was in a happy daze through the reception, but as the afternoon wore on, he was conscious of a growing wish--to be alone with his wife.

When the guests had been thanked, and had eaten and imbibed, and farewells said, Joslire took a deep breath of something near relief.

He put his arm around Laura's waist.

"Ready to come home, my beloved?"

Joslire came home from the forge, but stopped by the gym to shower there. Then he let himself in to the room, and smiled as he saw Laura reading on the sofa. He didn't try to remain unheard, it was impossible with Shimmer in the room anyway, but he made little announcement of his presence. He padded over to Laura and knelt before her, kissing one of her feet.

"One," he said with a arched eyebrow, and a lift at the corner of his lips.

Joslire had been spending much time away from the room, despite the cold. He felt drawn to the girl Laura like iron to a magnet -- he wanted to take her in his arms, take her clothes off and...then what? Until he figured out what happened then, he shyly kept some distance, except those times he had to kiss her.

Fortunately he had found the forge, and spent hours there keeping warm, learning, and tiring himself. And something about the activity stirred memories, vivid ones. Joslire finally put his tools away, and covered the fire. He was ready to go home to his Laura.

He entered their room and looked for her.

"Laura?"

Physical: Has let his hair grow a little longer, and is growng a closely trimmed vanDyke type set of whiskers. Is still in combat trim as he works out regularly and works at the forge.

Social: No longer lives with Koscuisko, has moved in with Laura Roslin because he got married. He now has a family, not rooted in the past, but aiming toward the future.

Mental: Is more focused on other cultures and people than he ever was before. Is also researching steel, and how his own people's Holy Steel is different.

Emotional: Happy, fulfilled, in love. (Socially, mentally and emotionally Joslire is looking to the future in a generative way. This is a revolutionary change in focus.)

Spiritual: Joslire as a bearer of sacred knives, was raised and trained from birth to be devoted to a mission, to be willing to sacrifice anything for it. In canon his last act of devotion to his mission was to surrender it-- to pass them on so that they would not be enslaved with him. He sacrificed a great part of his sense of self to do this.
He had a sacrificial altar as it were, and the fire burning there was his devotion to the Steel.

He was able to pass them on, because the altar had a new devotion--Andrej Koscuisko. The flame of devotion burnt as brightly for him as it had for the Steel.
When Joslire came to the village he found that Koscuisko did not need him as he had before. Indeed, Joslire found that his presence disturbed Koscuisko, shaking the fragile peace Andrej had made for himself by reminding him of the past. Though to do so was to sacrifice his own identity and sense of purpose, Joslire stepped back from Koscuisko. He placed his own sense of self on the pyre, and when it was consumed, doused the flame.

Joslire was a soul with a cold altar, and nothing else, because everything else in his life had been fed to the fires. He was in this state when he met Laura Roslin.

A new name is inscribed on the altar, the flame is lit and burns hot and bright, yet nothing is consumed. Joslire finds that everything he puts on the altar is returned to him, everything that he sacrificed out of devotion to the Steel, or to Andrej has also been returned to him. Loving Laura is his purpose, his strength, his joy. There is no Joslire without Laura. With Laura there is everything. He would take out his own beating heart, and give it to her if she needed it.*

*This line credit of Laura mun--who is full of awesome with 'nifty sauce' and 'spectacular sprinkles'.

Your result for What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test...

Traditional, Vibrant, and Tasteful

Take What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test at HelloQuizzy

Joslire had never been in the 'adult' store before, it was rather an eye opening experience, except those few items that were an eye closed and hurrying past experience, but they did have what he was looking for. He carried the discreet brown bag with the set of 'body paints!' 'edible!' 'seven HOT colors and flavors!--the whole rainbow of luv!' into the hotel with a bemused smile on his face.

"Hello, baby." He would see how she was feeling before he showed her the bag. It would wait if she was too tired, or stressed.

I am not Joslire ise-I'let. He is a marvelous character that belongs to Susan R. Matthews who wrote the novels Exchange of Hostages and Prisoner of Conscience in which he appears.

Nor am I Desmond Richardson whose image is being used as a played-by picture for the character. Mr. Richardson is an amazing dancer and choreographer.

This journal is strictly for use in a role playing game and there is no money being made from it.