sc0urge: (Default)
I really wish I could be a good student but it's just so hard. But it's not even hard for reasons I think I can adequately explain?

It's just so overwhelming and scary and I have to keep track of dates and times and people and papers and books and notes and that's without even thinking of the contents of the courses themselves.

I just want to not feel a rising swell of panic every time I open my calendar or my school website or my textbook or my notes or my student email, because I'm so sure that I've forgotten an assignment or missed a class or done the wrong reading or gone to the wrong room or... anything, really.

It doesn't even help to think that screwing up one assignment, second week of term, wouldn't be The End, because I have this crushing fear that having missed one assignment makes me a miserable failure, will turn my profs and TAs against me Forever and... well, in the past it mostly has led to me panicking, balking, and running away entirely. Skipping class. Skipping lab. Skipping tutorial. This summer I took two online courses, missed one deadline, and panicked so wildly I skipped out on two whole courses and put myself back on academic probation.

Sometimes I want to just drop out because it causes me so much anxiety, but I love learning in lectures and I need to be able to see my counselor and doctor at the school (because trusting doctors is hard and scary) and I can't even seem to find a minimum-wage, crappy-hours, no-benefits job to hire me, so I'm not sure what else I could do.

Fugu

Sep. 5th, 2011 09:50 am
sc0urge: (Default)
Yesterday afternoon I received a phone call asking if I could take a night shift in the haunted mansion. I said I couldn't, though that was maybe a slight exaggeration of my obligation to go back to my dorm to obtain free food and participate in orientation games. I kind of think I might have been better off doing the zombie shift, actually - while the airbrush makeup isn't exactly kind to skin, it has yet to do any worse than cause a few spots here and there. The intriguing things dorm advisers can devise to promote team spirit, on the other hand...

Picture a field of slightly manky grass. This field has two rows of water bottles lined up along it, with a gutted paper shopping bag piled with cotton balls at the end. There are two teams of three victims. These three must slather their faces with Vaseline, tie a banana on a string between their legs, and then proceed to run up to a water bottle, hip-thrust it down with the banana, then faceplant into the cotton for five seconds in an attempt to collect as many cotton balls as possible before running back to the start while trying to retain all their sweet loot.

I was undoubtedly the most successful of my team at collecting cotton, but this correlated with having the most slimy face beforehand, and the most fuzzy face thereafter. Wads of toilet paper were not readily available, so I made a very intelligent and resourceful decision and just rubbed my face in the spiky, manky grass.

Stupid stupid dumb.

Toilet paper arrived shortly after, which meant I could clean all the little blades of grass off my face if not completely ablute myself of grease. Too little, too late, I would soon discover, as the vile claws of the grassy host would make their venomous fire known upon my tender, greased visage.

Even a proper washing with face soap and scrubbing the hell out of my skin with a big fuzzy towel proved utterly fruitless. And this is why I was forced to retire about four hours earlier than usual for some utterly excellent sleep (silver sandwich) because I could no longer use my eyes on the computer screen. Unfortunately, I appear to still be a slightly speckly pufferfish, but I'm sure that will eventually resolve itself.

I hope.

And now, clothes and breakfast.

ETA: Also hey, guess who's three floors below me! Hey Figwidgeon!
sc0urge: (boxcars)
ETA: Scratch all this, the mere existence of the art course is apparently a figment of my imagination. At any rate, I cannot enroll in it. Bluh. Oh and apparently they only offer arts courses on a different campus. Thanks for telling me that, guys.

UGH university ugh courses ugh schedule ugh enrollment ugh self urgh.

I am a complete and utter shaky-skulled idiot dunce, and guess what? I managed to totally bork up enrolling myself for classes, so none of my choices were actually added, meaning they all filled up (most of them even the waitlist was full) and I have had to attempt to cobble together a whole new one. Which means I am now about to add a really piecemeal assortment of courses which are more difficult, take up more time, are worth fewer units, and probably contribute even less to any kind of meaningful degree. I am only just able to piece together enough units to keep my scholarship by waitlisting myself for an arts studio course. Which... you know, cool. It may mean nothing in terms of either of my probable majors, but whatever. Art is awesome, and the kind of panicfrazzle that working to hard on art gives me is a completely different and very refreshing kind of overload. But I'm waitlisted, and not sure I'll get in, and now this means there are two nights a week I won't be able to work as a zombie instead of one, and on one of those days, I'll be going from biology in the morning, to a four-hour chem lab in the afternoon, to a three-hour art studio all evening (with barely ten minutes between lab and studio). If I get in. If.

Which I need to happen, because scholarship. And there is pretty much no other course I could cram into my schedule, and even if there was I doubt it would be one I would enjoy or even possibly PASS.


I'm just... really bad at this, I think. I get stressed, and I'm all 'LOL NOPE NOT GONNA DEAL WITH THIS' so I shut down my brain and refuse to think to avoid total swirling overwhelmed meltdown, but while that works as a stopgap measure and prevents me from getting shitfaced drunk and staying up all night crying or whatever, and is really really good for my high scores on Robot Unicorn Attack, it just leaves me freaking stagnating all over the place, leaving me - still! - without meaningful employment, a planned major, any idea what I want to do with myself, or more than one or two meaningful relationships in my life. (And of course that just feeds into me feeling inadequate, which feeds into me feeling jealous and self-pitying, which just leads into me feeling shitty and petty and childish about feeling like that, which... recursive fractal of emo whiny bullshit.)

I don't really know where I was going with this.

But I've added the courses, so let's just hope I get into this art course and maybe grow a spine and deal with my shit or something.
sc0urge: (Default)
Not only is my tablet dead (can't tell the difference between hovering-over to move the cursor and pressing down to click/draw), it seems I've also managed to destroy my USB mouse (only intermittently connects, can't find which wire is loose to fix it).

Which means I am stuck with just my laptop trackpad. Again.

And for a few brief moments I've had the compulsion to draw some things, for once. Damnit universe. My thumbs do not love you right now. Guess I'll just have to go write this angsty fanfiction instead, you asshole. Such suffering. How do I deal. :|

Other than that - it's a lovely grey day today, so I'm sitting outside in the courtyard by the shops and the transit exchange on campus, by the fountain. Other than the buses and the rush of falling water, it's rather subdued. There's an electronic sign across from me that says it's sixteen degrees out, but my fingers feel cooler than that, so I guess I might pack up and relocate to the library in a bit.

Also, since I have enthusiastically shared this with every flesh-and-blood-interactions human currently in my life: EEE lab this Wednesday EEE! Basic evolution-ey stuff, so there wasn't a lot of playing around with chemicals or knives or whatever, BUT. There was some locust-measuring, which meant I got to manhandle an adorable and remarkably docile locust (Seriously, no hopping, no kicking; it just sat there and let me gather up its four front legs under its body and wrap my palm around its wings and hold its back leg out so we could measure its femur. Such a chill bro.) and have a squee-inducingly chubby little leaf insect drunkenly leaf-dance over my hand (after it was done being scared of all the giant predators around it, which involved some really pathetic/cute 'RAWR I'M BIG LOOK AT ME STICKING MY HANDS IN THE AIR AND ARCHIN' MAH BACK!' posturing). Also there were some stick insects just sitting in a mesh cage acting like sticks, with a printout about their sexual/asexual reproduction and sterile male-appearing genetically-female specimens which show up in lab populations.

On top of that, there was a whole preserved duck wing I could poke at and sketch, so with my task of building three and a half wings in the next three weeks, I was very glad of that. And it was damn neat to have an orange-dyed bat skeleton set in acetate. And the skulls of a grizzly/black bear/wolf/cat/cougar. And replica gorilla/orangutan/chimp/australopithecus/neanderthal/cromagnon/human skulls, even if I gather the teeth were all wrong in the prototype humans.

Squee. Squee everywhere. Well, mostly everywhere, but those places not included by 'mostly' are stupid stupid dumb and... bleh nevermind.

(Still mad at you for the mouse, universe. >:[)
sc0urge: (nureru)
Quotes for this evening:

"Oh Holy Jesus, shit, thank you. I will totally - no, I will not pull a Mary for you, but I will come close."

(beat)

"No, wait. Oh Heavenly Gods of Mathematics, I will totally have concupiscent relations with you, provided prophylactics are employed."

(later)

"Last time I checked, I'm a legal adult. I can post the word 'concupiscent' all over my Livejournal. In fact - actually, no, that sentence does not need to be finished."
sc0urge: (ditto)
I got a call today from the hospital, and now I have an appointment booked for a psych evaluation. Whoo. Thursday after this. And the eating disorder clinic told me they'd put me on a waitlist for group therapy.

Yeah. A waitlist. For group. What the hell? Um, okay, healthcare system. You have utterly convinced me of your efficacy and efficiency. (If they were as disorganised and unsuccessful with treatment for any other life-threatening ailment, would people care then? No? Maybe? I'm not sure which way is more disheartening.)

It's kind of something I think about - treatment for GID and for eating disorders seems... opposed, somehow. The one says 'your mind is right and your body wrong; we need to change the body from its automatic settings so the brain accepts it' and the other says 'your mind is wrong and your body right; we need to change your head so it accepts the body's automatic config.' I know that the adage about never really recovering from an eating disorder is true as far as my anecdata can carry it. I know that GID is treated the way it is because this is the only way that seems to work. But then, I guess with gender dysphoria, the trans individual isn't also dealing with an addiction and obsessive-compulsion. There are probably those who would quite happily get behind the idea that gender dysphoria is rather a body dysmorphia, and all trans people delusional. Ugh. I don't even know.

I wish I wasn't so distrustful of the psychiatric establishment. Especially since I have no reason to feel as such, given a rather scant body of experience on which to base judgement. Maybe I'm burned out on psychologists and family doctors. Maybe I just need to ask, as my first question, why a psychiatrist reading the DSM and listening to my self-reported symptoms is so different from me reading the DSM and evaluating my self-felt symptoms.

I'm also grumpy because the way this lab course is being conducted (online assignments, rushed labs, minimal human teaching) is making me really aggravated, and kind of poisoning my love affair with chemistry. I feel like this isn't a challenging course - it's just Nintendo Hard. Sub out depth for shaky controls. Instant difficulty! Except not in the fun way. Argh.
sc0urge: (unagi)


Ribosomes. Mesmerising. *_*
sc0urge: (dark)
Maybe I should write an entry. Things have, in fact, been happening. Are happening. Um. Y'know.
I've started class at SFU. I've actually added a biology class. Yay! I mean, finally. Don't ask me why I didn't get around to taking some kind of biology sooner. I mean, it's only been the one branch of the sciences in which I've consistently shown an interest since early childhood. I think it must have been grade nine science that scared me off - fucking mitosis/meiosis. I love penguins and planaria. I guess I don't absolutely adore the mechanics of their cell reproductions. Or something. But this chemistry class - any class that starts off with "What is life?" is fun.

I've also got a chemistry lab - my A-level apparently counts for two 100-level courses, the theory portions, but I don't have the lab portion. I don't know if I can just take the lab portion by itself, though. Well, I guess I'll find out tomorrow when I rock up to the lab tomorrow. Oh, man. The lab. It is bloody beautiful. It has big glass walls facing the hall, so I could see inside, and man. There are biohazard bags and warning signs and bottles the size of my head filled with candy-coloured solutions and and and ~ oh, so excited. Seriously. Biohazard bags. This is already great.

I've also had a doctor's appointment. Man. Bringing my father into the office as a meat shield actually worked wonders. She was, of all things, actually kind of sympathetic and helpful. Wow. She's going to push me through some urgent-access thingumajig to see a real live psychiatrist for a real live psych assessment (the last time anyone actually thought to be sure of exactly what mood disorder might be going on and which treatment was appropriate was when I was fourteen, and even aside from the fact that at that age pretty much the only thing a psychiatrist can do is diagnose depression and sling Prozac around, as the good doctor herself said 'a lot has happened since you were fourteen').
In the meantime, she's given me a prescription for some kind of anti-psychotic medication which is actually only really used for anxiety and sleeplessness. It has some grotty side effects (weight gain, boo) but there are some upsides (possible missed periods, woo). And to be honest, if it works and I can stop being so twitchy and neurotic for a bit, I'm happy. It won't mess with either depression or bipolar, which was kind of why I stopped taking fluoxetine in the first place. I mean, my mum had bipolar. My sister... I'm not privy to her diagnoses, but the last time she had a presscription filled, it was for lithium, which is a mood stabilizer, not an antidepressant. But I'm not going to start taking it just yet, because it can raise blood sugar, and I'm also getting eight hundred million blood tests done - well, I don't know the number of tests, but there's a lot of writing on the order sheet. I'm going tomorrow morning. So that should be a load of fun.

Fffff

Feb. 17th, 2011 06:25 pm
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I should go swim. It would be good for me. It's not going to mess up my knee, but it might make my weenie little lungs a mite less pathetic. But that involves swimming. And that involves... swimming in a swimming costume in a pool with other people. And, like, changing in the gendered change rooms. Urgh... I used to really like swimming, too. Dear ignorance: can I please have you back for a bit? I really liked not caring.

Oh, and while I'm whining: I had a midterm today, and completely fucked up using quadratic equations. You know that giant square root sign? That really glaringly obvious one, written right in the equation that I copied out multiple times in each question that used it? How the hell did I miss that?! What the hell-arse-balls, self?
sc0urge: (Default)
I've finished my A-levels, or something like that. Oh, you know, nothing major.

G484 was surprisingly kind to me, and I feel like I've ended on a good note. I'll probably crash and die and check myself into a psych ward on results day, but until then, I'm pretty damn happy. And freeeee!

Truth be told, I'm actually kind of emotionally conked out right now. All that elation and stress and wild partying and saying goodbye to a truly awesome therapist and, oh yeah, to two years' worth of friends and acquaintances... leaving the cage but losing the security. Walls don't just keep you locked in; they keep everyone else out. That's a little bit scary, really.

So of course I did the sensible teenage thing as soon as I left and assuaged all my fears with generous doses of coconut rum. It was a great night - I ate seaweed off a rock, was the one who ended up naked playing drunken party games, curled up in a smouldering campfire of school notes to keep warm (somehow I only ended up with a little burn on the side of my hand. :P), snogged some guy, fell asleep tangled between numerous people, and woke up to find a nice big spider had nested in my waistcoat where it was hanging over a tent flyline. I let him off in a bush without any harm done, don't worry.

This is completely unrelated but at this moment I'm watching 'Airline' and while I think it's meant to engender sympathy for the airport staff, it's really just starting to make me wonder if any of them have souls. Sheesh.

Anyway, currently I'm crashed out at my aunt's place until Saturday - no idea what's on the itinerary for tomorrow, and I still have not managed to find anywhere to do my damn hair. Alas. Why is this so hard?
sc0urge: (flaming)
In case anyone needed confirmation of how brain-dead I can be sometimes, as I was attempting to pack the contents of my room, I picked up a pen and thought 'Nah, British pens don't work in America. I'd need an adapter.' Oh wow. And yes, my first impulse is indeed to post this online. I am a child of my time.

Speaking of my propensity for intermittent idiocy, the chemistry exam this morning was... meh. I forgot how to make an ester. Hoo boy. But I did remember all my mechanisms and structures and splitting patterns and electron densities and Kerkulé rebuttals, so... we'll see. I honestly couldn't say whether I did any better on this sitting than the last. Well, the last go was a relatively sturdy C, and I know I at the very least have that to stick with. Then again, most of the people with whom I spoke after the fact didn't finish the exam paper. But I'm still kind of apprehensive about getting my hopes up. See also: I'm keeping some of my G485 notes. Just in case. I don't want to suddenly need to take a Christmas holiday to the UK to redo an exam, but I'm not discounting the possibility that I completely and utterly failed that module. Hopefully I can redeem myself tomorrow, with G484, but I'm still nervous.

Well. I should probably cease wasting time and start doing some hard-core revision. Wish me luck.
sc0urge: (Default)
Actually, just my dad. But then I was writing a reply to his email, and I thought 'screw it, this is going on LJ.'

Okay, so on Tuesday, there was this significantly cool broadcast of a concert, and my fellow metalheads (well, three of them: Arthur the guitarist, Euan the drummer, and Marco the singer) were going, and I wanted to go, but since this school is a bureaucracy, and one which is set up for people who are not legal adults, and all that greatness, I needed permission from my father to go, permission from my friend's mother saying it was okay for me to be at their house, and... I could not go with a driver who was currently a student here, even though we're legally both adults. Apparently students aren't allowed to drive other students if the school knows about it. So I would have to get a taxi or the bus or something. Yeah, no. But, I am clever, and worked out that I just had to do a bit of finagling around the rules and tell people that I was not leaving the campus in Arthur's car but rather leaving the campus, signing myself over to custody of his mother, and THEN getting in the car. Which of course I did, just not in that order. Actually I think Arthur's mum was glad to have me in the car with them. Arthur is a responsible driver, but I think she was a bit anxious about what might happen with three excited teenage boys on a major causeway listening to speed metal. I guess she expected 'the girl' to keep things under control or something. :P But it was okay - the driving was easy, the roads were pretty much empty most of the way, and we managed to restrain ourselves from pre-emptive moshing in the car.

Once we were there, I actually got a recipe for chili sauce off the owner of a kebab place - I'd asked him what was in it in case it was the chili-mayo like the place by the station, and he just told me how to make it. I'll be trying that one out, I guess! It was tasty.

Anyway, the concert. It was really cool to see a streaming concert - you lose the bruises and the smell of other people's sweat and the chest-throbbing feeling of being kicked in the sternum by the percussion section, but you get to see things from all different camera angles and much closer up (them fingers was flyin'!) and there was some 'backstage chat' stuff between the sets. It was the 'Big 4' - Megadeth, Slayer, Metallica, and Anthrax. I knew a little Slayer and Metallica, had heard of Megadeth, but knew nothing of Anthrax - I'm glad I went! They were great. Well, once you got over their singer's mullet. Man, that thing was scary. But he had a great stage presence, and a really cool showmanship. Kind of retro. :P

Staying at Arthur's was cool, too. They have the niftiest freaking house ever. They have a tortoise (Percy) who has dominion over a chunk of their (upstairs, à la Canadienne) kitchen floor and balcony, which is covered in little trays of lawn-in-a-box and clover and flowers. I think I'm in love with their tortoise. He was motoring around climbing all over everything, and he ate a piece of lettuce out of my hand. So cute! I love the way reptiles feel cool to the touch when they haven't been basking. You can feel in your hands that you have a living, breathing, blood-filled, sentient creature in your hands, but it's not throwing heat the way our animal hindbrains expect other creatures to do. Cognitive dissonace tickles little bits of my brain that otherwise get bored quite easily.

Oh! And Arthur also played me some of the Remmix (Jamie, Euan, Arthur, Jörn, Marco) songs they've been recording (on a Mac - what else? :D) and it took me a moment to recognize who was playing. I've only heard them live, and it's quite a different sound - I suppose moreso with metal, and compounded by minimalist equipment at all the school gigs. Their recordings sound really professional! When I heard them I knew the tune sounded familiar, but it was really polished and I didn't immediately think it could possibly be them. Wow, technology. <3

Oh, and needless to say, I survived. Mrs. Hall gave me a hug and confessed she'd been worried about me. I was all warm and fuzzy over that! And then I slept loads. Yeah.

Also, I have some interesting plans for Tuesday.

BUT! Now I'm going to get things together for the epic chemistry revision that's set to happen after lunch. Godspeed, neurotransmitters!
sc0urge: (Default)
Dearly beloved chum Briony has mononucleosis. There is currently some kind of sleeping sickness going around the house. Greeeeaaat. I've slept pretty much constantly from, oh, Saturday night. I plan on going to bed not too long from now - I'm running on tea and willpower right now. Earlier I was trying to do laundry (for the minuscule proportion of my time I actually spend doing laundry - yes, my jeans still have the grit embedded in the torn knee from, oh, three weeks ago - I seem to have a lot of my 'I'm not well' revelations in the laundry room) and eventually gave up when I decided it wasn't going to be possible to sort my clothing and pop it in the dryer while falling asleep on top of the washing machine. But it was so waaaaarm...

Of course it's maudlin. What else would it be? )
sc0urge: (antelope)
Like being into conservation. :P I spent a good afternoon out in Findhorn with Arthur and Pim, two of my casual friends/close acquaintances (there needs to be a better word for that degree/kind of relationship!) who are each cool, down-to-earth but amazingly talented musical types. Different kinds of music, though - Arthur is the type who wears his hear long and unkempt, dresses in skinny jeans and cherry-red Doc Martens, worships at the Shrine of Hendrix and has an offer at Oxford; Pim has the fashionably-metrosexual fauxhawk quiff, speaks in a thick Essex accent, writes indie pop-rock, and has been off and on academic probation probably more than anyone else in living memory. But yeah, both cool. We headed out to where the woods bordered the sand dunes, accompanied by Dr. Bell, a biology teacher who looks every bit like an Ent, and set about the utterly counterintuitive task of cutting down trees. Never fear - I have not completely lost it! The trees are the saplings of non-native invasive lodgepole pines, which spread over the delicately-balanced dunes, drop acidic pine needles which kill off the countless species of lichen which a) pretty much only grow around here, b) probably haven't all even been named yet, and c) are currently holding the dunes together. So apparently hacking the little sprawly bastards to bits is a good thing. Fair enough. It's certainly cathartic! It's nice to get a few good lungfuls of salty air and get my fingers all covered in spicy-scented pine sap. And it's good banter. And I received compliments on my op-ed piece for the school zine on global warming. So yeah, decent afternoon.

(Oh, and I've broken the nosepad off my glasses and am wandering around out-of-focus with no depth perception. *squint*)
sc0urge: (flaming)
I've just dashed off an essay on Austen and Shakespeare, and I'm GIMP-ing my way madly through stacks of editing which is due just a little too soon for comfort. Having written the final full stop in that essay, I flopped on the floor and was staring up at my ceiling, and I realised: my right brain is tired. The novelty of this feels good. I mean, I still have the shooping to woop, but this kind of frazzlement is a welcome change from rushed electromagnetic inductions and equilibrium constants panic.

Oh... and that big fat fuck-off essay? My (unmoderated, liable to change) mark on that has tentatively been given as seventy. Out of? Seventy. HELLS YES.

8148

Nov. 11th, 2009 10:32 pm
sc0urge: (antelope)
Okay, I want to kill myself a bit less now.

Also, freerice.com. I've been challenging myself to include every word I get wrong. I had no idea that trying to work out ways to use the word consanguinity, fosse, bosky, and appurtenance would lead to such copious verbiage.

Er, logorrhoea. But either way, quantity, not quality. :P

(In other news, I'm majorly annoyed with a certain self-entitled, self-important arsehole who thinks he's the prince of everything but refuses to acknowledge his ignorant privilege and is ALWAYS, ALWAYS right. The reason I'm short? I didn't eat enough meat. The reason he's morally superior? He eats burgers, wears leather, and donates daddy's money to Greenpeace. Not that he would have any qualms about eating whales. It's people like him, who have the money, who really matter. Oh, and he doesn't need to conserve water. "Listen, we're in Scotland, man, there's enough fucking water in this fucking country. Do you understand? Dude, what the fuck, get back here and help clean the fucking kitchen! You're not seriously going to make me stand here pre-rinsing the whole load of dishes and then expect me to load them in the dishwasher, too?" AGGH. And I'm unexpectedly on rounds tomorrow. Just... rgh. I seem to be stuck between really really good and really really lame, but at the same time, and it's kind of bollocks.)

3517

Nov. 9th, 2009 09:28 pm
sc0urge: (Default)
Okay, I'm doing NaNoWriMo. I'm a masochist, I know. But yeah, I like what I'm writing. It's all steampunky and Guy Fawkes-ey and it has a charismatic bastard of a magician and a whole load of characters of questionable sexuality and bizarre names and yeah.

Can't blog. Must write.

(Never mind that I have an assessed practical for Chemistry and an essay due tomorrow, a resit test on Thursday, as well as another essay due, and Les Mis rehearsals besides, and I still need to organize the Ravenclaw musical - God this timing is awful with Les Mis, I mean what the crap is with having a major school production and then two weeks later trying to put on a decent cabaret? GAH.)

Hey Y'all

Mar. 29th, 2007 10:34 pm
sc0urge: (Default)
I think I'm coming down with a chest cold. Or chest-allergies. Or something. My throat is all thick and I keep coughing. Bleah. Sore throat, too, from the mucousy crap.

Y'know, enough complaining.

There's this assignment for socials, where we had to draw pictures and write captions and blah blah blah. Anyway, I wanted to slack off and draw cartoons, and my buddy Rylan is about as visual as a blind cave toad. So I get to slack off and draw cartoons, and he gets to write. Win-win. Especially since I get to do the cartoons in manga format. :D I have figured out how to write Napoleon in katakana, and this thing does indeed read from right to left.

Also, within the first page, there is a short joke. Napoleon has flames springing up around him, which totally owns anything Edward Elric has done so far. Except maybe hucking plebes around.

I was born for this. And now, I suppose, I should work.
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