Love and Sockets, and Volatile Shots

I hosted 1950's Night in Steelhead last night. Fuzzball and I came in the forms embodying the fears of that decade. He came a werewolf from the silver screen. I dressed as the Red Menace. Barely dressed, anyway.

Why do my relationships with inanimate objects always end in failure?

First it was the Harley, loud, rough and brash, that wouldn't leave me alone. I was trying to keep decorum, but he was so uncouth.



Then..HE rolled in. He was a 1949 Rat, He wore simple black primer to show off his sleek yet bold frame. The touch of flame paint on the edges revealed his wild and artistic side.

He came on strong. He let me lay my hand on his hood. His engine turned faster, and I felt his vibrations within my frame.



But when I tried to fall into his luxurious vinyl seating..he REJECTED me! I begged, I pleaded, I raged! I even threatened him with the hammer. Nothing worked.

No more, hot rod. No more.



The cycle only revved in derision. The old ice cream cart watched me from the far corner watched silently, cold and distant. But I could tell he had seen this played out so many times.

I felt..volatile. Which was good, because that was the theme for my model shoot with Aunt Sysperia. I wore my Llewelyn Steam Armour with Talons. Then I switched to my Magma Lust fae form. Then I wore my classic configuration. The engine..my skin..and hose.

~Qli