Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Rosencrantz's LiveJournal:

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Saturday, March 3rd, 2007
7:15 pm	A writing challenge story for 13th Floor You Should Pay More Attention To Random Encounters John Notes: This is a story set in The 13th Floor which is part of a website that I seriously need to update so all that's there is stuff you've seen on this journal and some pictures of people I chose for the characters faces. This story is centered around a new character I created for it and how she relates to the world. Also, it is an excuse for me to beat up prophecy storylines with a big rock. With pointy bits. Despite the setting, the story should stand on its own. Thank you. ( My prompt was: I am not a pornstar ) (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, December 2nd, 2005
6:13 pm	Obviously this is no longer Nano and just my personal project. A chapter start I just did that will be revised to be less lame. Rest of stuff can be found at http://emptyspace.thepoolisfull.org When Derrick had been little, the most freedom he got after his parents death was riding his bike with his sister. The reason this was freedom, you see, was that if he rode jut fast enough, he could be far enough he couldn't see her and pretend he was alone, but close enough she wouldn't be mad and forbid another trip. However, sometimes she would cancel it for other things. Every time they would pass a certain small wooden bridge, Derrick's bike would jerk out of control towards the stream. A few times he couldn't gain control fast enough and would fall down and scrape his knees badly. His sister would kiss it better and then take him home, refusing to let him out again until no marks were left. Derrick never scarred. One day, when he was eight, Derrick grew sick of it. When his bike fell, this time he didn't wait for his sister to come pick him up. He got up and started looking over the ground to find out what made him slip, but never his sister. As he walked around his bike, he'd found himself circling closer and closer to the stream. Finally he looked in. When his sister came, it was just in time to yank him away from a rotten corpse of a woman, yanking him into the stream with moldy, aged strips of cloth she'd wrapped around his throat. That was how Derrick discovered magic. And he'd always had a way with the dead. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, November 9th, 2005
8:27 am	"You know what stunts your growth? Death." "I think the cold hand of death came a little too late for that, Derrick." (Comment on this)
Monday, November 7th, 2005
10:28 pm	Ahehe... I should have put this up before my first post. Prologue There is a superstition about the thirteenth floor. That it's bad luck, that only terrible things can happen there. It is, of course, total nonsense. The number on a floor in no way affects its luck or spiritual tendencies. The fact that the thirteenth floor of the apartments on J. Drive had suffered more suicides, murders, and general horrors to give occult conspiracy theorists wet dreams for weeks was just a silly coincidence. Really. Trust us. Meet our protagonist, Derrick Anastas, fighting with his door while he juggles groceries in one hand and slippery, slidey keys in the other. Short, curly haired, bent nosed and as timid as a mouse, he doesn't really cut an intimidating figure. Derrick died four months ago. We can assume this hasn't really kept him down. (Comment on this)
7:14 pm	NOTE: I will be um, editing this heavily later. This is what I just managed on a sort of line of thought and I have a sinking feeling I've fucked up a lot of tenses. chapter vun The first thing Derrick noticed when he finally got into his apartment was the dripping. It was a slow, thick sounding sort of drip. The sort you expect with overly runny maple syrup. Following the noise, he saw a extremely tall black woman glaring down at him, one intestine thrown over her shoulder and dripping blood everywhere. "Well, this explains the trail in the hall." he said and went to go put his groceries away. "It popped! The stupid thing went and popped on me!" yelled Dene after him. "You never told me they could pop!" "I'm sorry, I thought redcaps had better... integrity. Or did you slash the hat? Don't slash the hat, they're just gross. Hey, are you staying for supper? I'll put extra noodles on." "No, I hate that look of disappointment on your roommate's face when he realizes there's no cleavage to look down. And it wasn't a redcap. It was that vampire you sent me after." Blinking, Derrick looked up. "The vampire popped? They aren't mosquitoes. I think. At least, nothing I ever read featured the lines 'and yea, the vampire didst pop and ruin my flowing gallic beard and all the other vikings laughed at me.'" "You said vampire was coming, I go to the house and I find this giant red sack sucking blood out of the old lady. Insert sword, get blood everywhere. Flee back here in the hopes of ruining your carpet in revenge." Dene suddenly noticed the other remains the vampire had left on her and flung the intestine away with a small cry. "I need a shower. You find out what that was, now. Tax's supper can wait and maybe if he's lucky I'll give him one of my magazines." "I don't think he's that simple minded..." A half hearted protest for his roommate. "Uh huh. The only reason you have a working shower and I don't is the damn hick pride thing he has going with the landlord. Now if you'll excuse me..." "I'll go pick up some clothes for you while I'm at it. You look awful when you steal Tax's stuff." Dene shrugged and walked off, already yanking off her shirt. Now, at this point we must ponder the nature of vampires. There are quite a few types recorded throughout history. We have the archetype courtesy of Bram Stoker, the brooding, handsome overall human vampire who just wants to find true love with a AB blood type. Then we have the ones that modern science has told us were only mistaken for vampires because they wanted the blood that their body wasn't producing right due to some disease. Although some children would ask 'but how would they know it's blood they need?' But they are children and should be ignored. And, let us not forget, the twisted monsters of yesteryear before hollywood came in. People so evil that Hell itself spat them back out to prey on the living. Able to be countered with poppy seeds and lost socks, however, proving that even evil has a really lame side. Dene had run into none of these. "It was Egyptian!" "Meaning... what?" "Someone just didn't get embalmed correctly. We only have to fix the body," Derrick said with gleaming eyes. "I'll get my shovel and tools." "I know a creepy little zombie boy..." muttered Dene as she rummaged through the bag Derrick had brought from her apartment. "You need bigger towels." "You need smaller hips." "Barbie doesn't have hips small enough for these. Gimme that. You found a cure for yourself yet?" Dene plopped down on the couch and started paging through the book. "My cure would be death. Can you put your shirt on already?" "Shirts are patriarchy. And someone already tried death on you, that's why I've got you now. I mean... actual curing. But no animal sacrifice, I don't do that shit. Or whatever's happening in this woodcut." Turning the page upside down didn't help make the picture any less disturbing. "That one's Sumerian. Well, I think burning me might work. But let's play Kill The Zombie later. Like... fifteen hundred years from now. I'm coming to terms with being a abomination unto God. Hey, let's focus on you!" "No." "Bah." "Sucks to be Derrick. Anyway, how do we find the body? That was just screwed up. It was like... schluppp. And she was a damn mummy by the time I managed to get through that window. Speaking of which, I see too many damn dead grannies. You have got to invite a higher class of ghoul into town. Something that preys on nubile young lesbians, maybe..." "What, you want corpses of them?" "I was thinking of more of a sweeping in to save at just the right moment thing," Dene leaned over to steal Derrick's cigarette. "Can you do something like that?" "Yeah, I'll get right on it. Hello, Satan? Are you there? It's me, Derrick. Look, my friend wants to sin with some nice young ladies, so if you'd be so kind as to--OW. STOP THAT." Dene rubbed her fist. "Your head's harder than it looks. Be good. Speaking of things, the ghost in the mailroom tried to send another person flying. I was right, those oddly convenient piles of trash are helping. No broken arms this week at all." "Until he figures that out. We have got to figure out what killed him. Or her. Do you think it's a her?" "I think the one in the park is a her. This one's definitely a guy, look at the targets it goes after. All women or much weaker men. Definite dominance issues. I bet he looked like you in life," Dene said with a smirk while ruffling Derrick's hair. They'd been working together for three months since Dene had blown into town and she still hadn't gotten over how small he was, for someone who'd managed to keep up with her so well. Four months ago, life in the city had gone from a high chance of mugging and death, to a higher chance of having your soul sucked out of your mouth and death. Dene'd been working in California when she started to notice a weird pattern in the articles she would glance over, so she'd moved along to check things out. What she'd found was a zombie with a good eye for reference books that were obviously not his, a nasty hick and a apartment floor full of ghosts and ghouls. She did find the warding charms Derrick had carved into every doorway charming, however. "I'm not that short..." "You're only up to my chest." "Godzilla barely reaches your chin. I've got the right type of blood and animal parts in the fridge, I can track the body. Go get the shovels, we can deal with this tonight." "Yeah, sure. Bring stuff along in case of surprises. I'm sick of fighting Als off you whenever we go to the graveyard." "I'm sorry the ladies find me so irresistible." "They're undead, flesh-eating ghouls." "But women! They're women!" "Just get going." "And put on your shirt." end chapter one (Comment on this)
Sunday, November 6th, 2005
5:35 am	Currently in the 'writing random crap while I ponder plot' stages of Nano. Putting this here so I can steal it later for the page. In which a zombie and a lesbian monster slaying werewolf have gumbo. Or what I thought of while poking through the gumbo my mother cooked. "...I can't believe you're feeding me dogfood." "It's gumbo!" "I know a ingredients list when I see it!" Derrick screwed up his face and pushed the bowl away. "This is why I don't like werewolves." Dene's eyes took on a dangerous gleam. "It's. Gumbo. Rice, chicken and a nice broth." "Uh huh. I've read the cans." "You know, the next time one of the Als comes sniffing for a nice light snack..." "You'll save me because you love me so much. Anyway, ew. Ew. You should let me cook for you," said Derrick, hoping that Dene couldn't see him trying to check the trash for discarded dogfood cans. "One, your food is freakier. Two, I will end up fat and I won't be able to hunt at all. I will sit there and look mournful as the sugar addict takes all my kills." "I'm not sure squirrels are really worthy of the term kills." "Big red suckers." (Comment on this)
Monday, October 24th, 2005
10:58 am	Hi, I'm crantz's writing journal with a brand new name in time for Nano. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, July 10th, 2004
10:23 pm	Teen Titans, formerly Young Justice. Author's note: I'm never going to progress beyond g-rated slash, I can tell. This story features (mostly explained) references to moments in Superboy's comic near its end. Just to explain that I didn't just make up the dream stuff. Disclaimer: Belongs to DC. Except Ohio. Warnings: None. G-rated. Vaguely Kon/Bart.     Saving Ohio by Rosencrantz     Once upon a time there was a little speedster. His name was Bart. He used to be called Impulse, but then he had one too many head injuries and changed it to Kid Flash. He had a great many friends that he used to adventure with, but for various reasons many of them had gone off and all he had now were three. There was Cassie, who was a wonder and a Wonder Girl and just his favourite girl, and Tim, who was Robin who was very smart and seemed to twitch when around Bart, but Bart was sure it was affection. And then there was Kon. Kon, who was currently being *very* unappreciative of Bart's attempts to let him share the glory of breaking the biggest mystical crime syndicate that Ohio had ever seen. Stupid Kon. "Look, Impu--" "Kid Flash" "... Look, Impulse, it's just a plastic horse. With a picture on its butt. It is not a symbol of a dark underground." "UnderGOD, Superboy." "Whatever," said Kon. "But, but..." Bart zoomed around Kon, giving him puppy eyes from every angle. "It's big! It's dangerous! We need to save the Ohions!" "I think they're called Ohioans and why don't you go bother Robin or Cassie?" "because I want your help." "Did they turn you down?" Bart went fuzzy, disappeared, and reappeared. "They have now. Come on come on come on come on." "I've got homework to do..." Kon began before he realized what he was saying. "Pleeeeas--" said Bart before getting snatched up by Kon and flown out a window towards Ohio. *--* "so. Petal Blossom is a sign of the coming Ohio apocalypse, is it?" Kon said, holding up a package with a gaily coloured plastic pony inside. "You gotta invert the symbol and you'll see! It was in this really dusty book in the library that sortagotdamagedbutIpaidforitlateranyway.It'sasymbolofthearavagerwhocomesforou---" "That's nice, Bart. It's kinda cute. Do you think Cass would like it?" "You're missing the point!" Bart wailed. Behind him, a row of ponies glowed ominously. "You're right. I should get her something that says 'I respect you, but I also respect your femininity and your need for extra accessories'," said Kon as he leaned down to peruse a shelf. "How's this one? It has a little raincoat." "That one summons the eater of children." "Oh, you like it? Good." Bart opened his mouth to explain that he could just solve this all on his own if Kon was going to be like that when the first darts hit. When he finally closed his mouth, he was in a ten by ten room, with Kon on top of him drooling slightly. "I knew it." "Ten more minutes, Mrs. Kent..." "Wake up! You've been drugged!" "You have very bony knees, you know that, Imp?" "We've been kidnapped. I should have left a note. Max always told me to leave a note." "Did he?" "Well, he would have if it had ever come up." "I really have to go to the bathroom..." muttered Kon sleepily as he stood up and swayed. There didn't appear to be a chamberpot or a far enough away corner. Bart's blood ran cold. Kon fell over and passed out again, saving Bart from finding out his solution. Quickly he shoved his comatose partner in crime-fighting into a far corner, watched him rebound from the force of it and started pacing in a attempt to figure out what to do next. He was distressed to discover he couldn't even leave a groove in the floor and when he tried to vibrate through the walls, all he recieved for his troubles was a bloody nose and a swollen lip. After performing the human rubber ball imitation a few more times, Bart curled up to heal. Beside him, Kon made little sleeping noises. "Bart...." "We are in enemy territory. Who knows who could be listening. I am Kid Flash." "...I'm going back to sleep. I had two Cassies in there." Bart twitched. "Is there really pink elephants in the room?" Kon asked dreamily. A pair of yellow eyes and far too much messy brown hair appeared over his face. "Are you hallucinating? Are you dying? DO YOU SEE A BRIGHT WHITE LIGHT? Stay away from it!" "...wow you're pretty. Have I mentioned this?" slurred Kon, reaching up for Bart's face. "Yes. The last few times you were drugged and incoherent," Bart said and vibrated. "Are you better yet? We have to break free and save the great state of Ohio." "What did you do those other times?" "I told Robin you were talking about him." "...oh you little basta--" "You are better! Please let go of my throat!" Kon squeezed. Bart squeaked. The room filled with gas again. *--* "You know, I've seen you in enough bunny costumes to last me for the rest of my life now." Bart ignored him and spun in a circle trying to get a good look at his back. "Is this what it feels like to be Wonder Woman?" "I'm going to go ask them to drug us again." "No! That's giving in to their insane demands!" "They haven't given us any demands, they've just put you in a playboy bunny costume." "It could be a demand. In um, their evil sinister languag--I'm going to be traumatized if I think about this." Kon sat down and tried not to look at Bart. This was a bad time for laughter. Bart hit faster. Bart had informed him that he was on 'the edge'. Kon wasn't entirely sure that he knew what he was talking about, but was willing to give Bart the benefit of the doubt. He'd say that Bart didn't look too bad, but he'd had enough questioning about how he identified Impulse in his mind to really want to say anything outloud when he could still repress. "In any case, this is all part of their plan. Their evil plan. As detailed in the points program pamphlet in the back of the boxes." "Their evil plan is you with bunny ears and frilly...cloth items." "Yes. It's insidious." "No more knock out gas for you." "They need a sacrifice, you see." "Oh. Of course. Perfect sense." "I don't think you're taking this as seriously as you could, Superboy." "I'm just going slowly insane. Please stop um, stretching." "I need to be prepared at any moment." Bart abruptly began pacing again. "We need a plan. When they drag me up to the volcano, you should find some way to destroy their plant of evil while my death distracts them." "Why doesn't Robin ever have days like this?" Kon said bemusedly. Bart was suddenly crouching down beside Kon. "Do you understand the plan?" "Um, they open the door and we run?" "No! Death! Noble sacrifice!" "It's Ohio." Kon paused. "It's Ohio and it has a volcano?" he said. "It's a underground volcano. There's a complex evil civilization living under Ohio." "And you found this out in a public library?" "The power of books, old chum." "Why didn't you ever mention this before?" Bart shrugged. "It never came up." "You know, Cas--" Kon caught Bart's deathglare. "Wonder Girl would have had a better plan than 'watch me die'." "It's a perfectly good plan. Now, the plant of evil will be spewing out bright happy pink horses... you must follow this trail and use your laser vision or something." "...did I tell you I could do that now?" Bart waved his hand dismissively. "I've been watching you. I get bored." "...I feel violated." "Do you?" "Not really, I just felt I should say that. Okay, I watch you die, do a little victory jig and destroy the plant?" "You aren't intending to do a thing I said, are you." "No. I think I can break open the door, actually. I've been testing it while you plotted your suicide. Being in a bunnysuit isn't the end of the world, you know." "It's very drafty, okay. And you're going to tell Robin and Wonder Girl." "Of course I am. And Cyborg and Beast Boy. But that's not the point. I've dreamt about you like that anyway." "...waaay too much sharing, Kon." "No, it was just a guilt thing about you dying and stuff. Really." "..." Kon decided that was the time to blow up the door, grab Bart and flee. *--* "I thought Shirley Temple grew up, Bart," Kon looked glassy-eyed over his soda. "I...I should have believed you." Patting Kon on the shoulder, Bart could only look pitying. "Um, where were you two?" asked Cassie, looking up from her homework. "Saving Ohio." "Fighting a mutant Shirley Temple who intended to eat our souls in a pink plastic extravaganza of gore." "Shut up, Kon." "This was all your fault!" "Oh, Robin? Kon got drugged and said you were pretty again." "Great." Robin didn't even look up from his computer. "I did not! I said you were! I always have!" There was a pause. "When I'm suffering from delusions and drugs and possibly head injuries, of course." The pause continued. "I hate everyone in the whole world right now." Robin subtly slid away from him. "He dreams about me in bunny costumes," said Bart cheerily. Kon whimpered and buried his face in his hands. "I'm trying to get some work done, can you two be weird somewhere else?" Cassie said, frowning at her papers. Bart handed her a small plastic package with a pink horse staring out with a vacant smile. "Hey, Kon got you this." "Oooh. It has a little raincoat and everything." "What happened to you needing to work?" "Raincoat!" "And what happened to it being a symbol of the dark undergod?" "We defeated the dark undergod, Kon," said Bart patronizingly. "Remember? The one that looked like a pound puppy?" "...ah." Kon blinked. "Wait, no. You said the dark undergod was the one that looked like a cabbage patch kid. You know, the one that took a chunk out of my costume." "I was confused." Cassie finished unpacking the accessories. "Why are you still here?" "Because I've had a long day, I've fought menaces of the underworld, had to endure Imp doing aerobics in frilly... cloth items, and this couch is very comfortable." "I do more before noon," Robin said. "Shut up." Bart flopped down beside Kon and beamed at him. "We saved Ohio!" "Yes, yes we did. Please go away before I hurt you." "So... dreaming about me?" "Guilt! It was guilt! It was followed by a soldier singing about necrophilia!" "And this was when I was in a coma?" "...yes." "Cassie!" "Go away. Both of you. Go take Bart out for soda like a good kansas boy, Kon." "Fine! I will!" Kon stood up, dragging Bart by his hand to the door before it occured to him what Cassie meant. He looked down. Bart batted his eyelashes. Kon said: "Screw it." and flew off with Bart in tow.   end. (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, May 23rd, 2003
7:52 pm	There was supposed to be an easter story here, but Zlot requested Neil, Jack and sex. So later. oh look, a title "In Which The Doors Are Not The Spice Girls And Jack Compliments Neil's Ass" "Did you ever learn to knock?" "Sorry, your years of celibacy never prepared me for anything more traumatizing than you, your underwear and...what band was that again? Spice Girls?" "The Doors." "I still don't understand how the underwear came into it." "YOU BLOODY WELL CAME IN WHILE I WAS--" "Dancing in your underwear?" "Different scenario. Keep up. My girlfriend requests I hang your head on a stick outside the door as a warning to Alec." "Alec would never come in. He has some super-sense that allows him to avoid ever being caught in embarassing positions. By the way, nice ass." "Jack?" "Yeeees, Neil?" "I'm going to kill you and dump your bloodied corpse in the river. And then I'm going to sell all your possessions, move to Mexico and live happily knowing I did the world a favour." "...I think my paper can be done at the library byeeeeeeee." (Comment on this)
5:33 am	And, for those of you not familiar or not giving a damn about Helm Hammerhand, Alec, Jack and Neil In Which True Evil Is Discovered And Neil Regrets Jack's Sugar Intake "So anyway, the doll's fucking evil." "No it isn't, Jack." "It is. It knows where we live now, cause you flashed your wallet with your id around. It's. Going. To. Eat. Us." Neil rolled his eyes. "Don't you look at me like that!" "Like what, Jack." "Like you're some martyr and I'm the newest roman punishment. You know the doll is evil. I saw you refusing to turn your back on it." "I was not 'refusing to turn my back on it'. I was..." "Refusing to turn your back on it." "It's a creepy doll." "It's an evil doll that's going to eat us." "Jack. It's a doll. A porcelain doll. That belongs to my baby sister." "eviiiiiiiiiiille." Neil whimpered in pain as the doorknob caught him again as the door stuck at the wrong moment. "Shut up. The doll isn't evil." "The doll had red eyes." "What had red eyes?" "Alec, for the love of god, don't ask him. Just do your homework." "THE DOLL OF EVIL THAT HAS BEEN SENT UP BY THE DEVIL HIMSELF TO PUNISH ALL OF YOU SINNERS!" "My god. You gave him sugar." "My mother gave him sugar. She thinks he's cute." "A pox on her." "If you two are done, I'll be off saving our lives. Where'd I put the holy water..." "On the brightside he is tidy." "He's a lunatic, Alec." "You love him." "Only until I find the negatives." (2 Comments |Comment on this)
5:17 am	Originally, y'all were going to get a drabble. Instead, a helm fic. Rhythm By Rosencrantz The cold's seeped into my bones. They don't make that much noise, if you catch them from behind. After a while you get the knack for killing them. Only be showy if you know there's no chance of them getting you. I have to let my shoulder stretch just a bit at that one, to let the little twinge of pain remind me to be more careful. I don't want to go back now. The way Haleth looked at me in the time before he died defending Meduseld from Wulf and how my daughter refused to reach my eyes when she was told was enough. I smash another man (not a man, a dunlender. What I'm protecting my family from), not bothering to be quiet. There's only two left within hearing distance anyway. My arms are moving slower now. It all started because one man wasn't happy with his place in the world. We all knew he was part Dunlender and we still let him own land, what more did he want? I allowed him into my councils and his behaviour insulted me. And then he asked for my daughter. One man tries to yell, but I get his neck. He makes a wonderful choking noise that makes the fact my hands can't feel what I'm doing anymore worth it. He's not even close to being dead, but he can't yell now. My daughter. It wasn't enough I let him live, he wanted his son, his equally mixed son, to be allowed into my family. Into royalty. A Dunlender! I told him exactly what I thought of it, took him outside and killed him. One blow. Hammerhand is a well earned name. I finish off this one, he's begun coughing and it sounds disgusting. When I walk off, my feet drag. I'm feeling tired. I haven't been inside in a very long time. But I don't feel cold anymore. My son Hama asked me why I didn't just tell Freca to leave and be gone. That it had just been politics. But I am king. He came to me, demanded my daughter. His arrogance insulted me. And it would have been done, but he reviled me openly and a king can't brook such matters. A king should not have to brook a son so desperate with hunger he leaves the Hornburg against his father's orders and leads him and his men to death, searching for food. But Hama would not listen. I wonder if he listened to my reasons? I wonder what Wulf thought before he declared war on us for his father's death. He must have known his father was a arrogant fool. I would have been relieved to get rid of the burden. Instead we got this. The last man is hiding. I can hear him breathing. My men are waiting for me to return, they heard my horn echoing through the Hornburg before I went, clad in white to find more of our enemies. They say I eat the men, I am so hungry. My vision is turning black and I can barely lift my arms. I have my sister-son left, Fréaláf. My daughter, all of this waged because one man wanted her for a goal he could never achieve, died in Edoras with Haleth. I will be very disappointed if I go through all this and he ends up dying too. Not to mention the fact my sister will do horrible things to me on the other side. The man I'm hunting finally bolts from his hiding place and as cold as my legs have gotten, I manage to chase him down. I let him get a good long look at me as his eyes glaze over. I can't think of Freca now. Me, so gaunt and grieving and his memory, fat and pompous. I hit the man again, even if he's well beyond feeling it. The sun won't be coming for a while. I stand on the Dike and look around. This is the end. My legs refuse to carry me further. I want to laugh. Helm Hammerhand, Helm the snow-troll, Helm, eater of his enemies and wraith. The cold's going to kill me. This damnable cold that's been in my bones since the winter began. I'd drop my head back and just laugh until my heart stopped, but I'm so tired. But I refuse to fall. They said that even though they found Helm, dead as he was upon the Dike, his knees unbent and alone for the Dunlenders refused to come near, his horn was still heard to sound in the Hornburg, later known as Helm's Deep and that his wraith would walk and kill Rohan's foes with fear. Current Mood: discontent (Comment on this)
Monday, February 24th, 2003
1:47 pm	"How'd it go?" Neil grinned maniacally. "I'm doing much better. Except for the whole failing thing, I so would have passed." "This is test number..." "Twelve. It's twelve, Jack. You know it's twelve. You taunted me about it the whole way to the test." "I just wanted to make sure you knew." Alex looked up from his work. "It's okay, Neil. I'll give you a ride to work tomorrow." "Why not a ride with me?" Neil spotted a newspaper. "Because that'll end in a double homicide." Neil began rolling the newspaper. "Ain't my fault he can't drive." Neil smacked the rolled up newspaper into Jack's head. "Bastard!" "What was your score?" asked Alec. "Five. I only lost five points. But two automatic fails." "Which were?" "A yield sign and a yellow light." "You're getting better." "Except for the failing thing." "Except for the failing thing, yeah." (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, February 11th, 2003
1:30 pm	"I hate this wig. With surprising passion. Can I burn it after this?" "Stop your whining." Jack spat out a bobby pin. "It can't be that bad, Neil. My wig isn't bugging me." "Why doesn't Alec need one? Alec is a fucker." "My hair's already long enough. Nyah." Jack sighd. "Here, let me help you. I'll fix your makeup while I'm at it." "Uh..." "So. Ruffles?" "My girlfriend likes them." "Prissy victorian lady. It works, in a twisted way." "Whatever, Pocahantas." "Should I accidentally take your eye out with a pin, I'd like to apologize ahead of time," said Jack, moving into a better position to futz around with Neil's costume. "You're good at this..." "I am. Did I ever tell you about my older brother Joan?" Alec grabbed a bite from his sandwich as he examined his skirt in the mirror. "I look like a skank." "You are a skank. Joan?" "Mm. He decided he needed to teach me everything he knew. It was kind of like the jedi/padawan relationship from hell. He was convinced I was going to need this at some point. Of course, my parents found out a year later and objected but by then it was too late. I knew how to colour coordinate." "Joan?" "He thought it was pretty. I try to call him a she to his face. Hold still, finishing it up." "Can you do me next?" asked Alec, brushing his hair. Jack nodded and patted Neil's wig into place. "Voila. 'e is so pret~ty!" "You're never choosing our Halloween costume theme again, Jack." (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, February 10th, 2003
3:26 pm	A Neil one, for Zlot. Have an Alec one and a Jack one planned in similiar veins. "I don't think this was ever part of an animal." "The hot dogs aren't that bad, Neil. They have a certain je ne sais quoi." "They taste like butter," Neil said with a glare. "Meat should not taste like butter." "Isn't butter made from meat?" "...what a disgusting thought. Be right back, need to forcibly unclog my arteries." "Why do you keep ordering that shit?" said the girl behind the counter with a happy nametag explaining to the world her name was 'saucy vixen'. She pointed at the green ooze that had begun eating into the hotdog remains. "Personal ritual of dietary danger. I have no idea what it actually is." "Coleslaw, I think." "Coleslaw from the black lagoon. And on that note, would you like to go out sometime?" he asked calmly, dumping his tray in the garbage. "How long have you been waiting to ask that?" "Two weeks. I even had something witty scripted out, for the sole purpose of actually finding out what your name was." "It's Saucy Vixen." "A woman of mystery. I like that. Whaddya say?" "Sure. I get off work at seven. Come here and we'll figure out something to do." Brian looked up as Neil slid back into his seat. "What are you grinning about?" (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, February 9th, 2003
7:43 pm	"Alec, how much can a secret really weigh on someone?" Alec thought for a moment. "I always thought it depended on how much you let it," he said slowly. "The more you focus on it, the more solid it becomes. Why?" Jack shrugged. Alec frowned. "Does someone need to confess about the drunken guy found in Neil's bed?" "It was a moment of weakness, never to be repeated. My heart will always be with him, sadly." "Wasn't you, huh." "Well, I left the door unlocked. I think I'm to blame. But don't tell Neil." "Is that it?" "No, it wasn't." "Are you going to tell me?" Jack turned back to his book. "No." "Tomorrow then?" Jack sighed. "I think this one is for keeps, Alec." Alec nodded. "Your choice." "yeah." Jack thought about it a moment. Then finally and again, "yeah". (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, February 6th, 2003
12:17 pm	Jack was staring at his computer. He was positive he could hear a faint cackle coming from the speakers. "Ah, meester paper. We meet again. But this time, I have brought my leetle friend. MR. CLIFF NOTES! Back, back, you devil!" The Cat stared at him. Jack stared back. "Mrrr," said The Cat. "Go away," said Jack. The Cat proceeded to lick itself and ignore Jack. Jack opened his mouth to come up with a rebuttal when the door slammed open. Quickly Jack snagged The Cat around the middle with his foot and threw it under the desk. "It's just me. Let my cat go." "Ah! M'sieur Neil. What a pleasure. We have your customary seat saved and everything. And nice bloodstains, by the by." Neil shrugged, walked to his bed, and collapsed. After a few moments his arm went out and pulled the covers over his head. "Bad day?" "Mmph." "I get those too." "Mmph," answered Neil, curling up under the blanket. The door opened again. The Cat, who had pulled itself out from the computer wires and was beginning the slow process of putting every strand of fur Just So, was once again thrown back. "You're going to kill it doing that. I don't think the RA would even care if he did know about The Cat, anyway," said Alec, taking off his shoes. "I get a strange joy out of it. I mean, Neil cleans its litterbox, you feed it, I give it concussions. It's like the circle of life, only not." "Where's Neil?" "He's in the blanket mound." "Bad day?" "Mmph," said Neil. "He had bloodstains!" said Jack cheerfully. "Bloodstains?" Alec said, frowning. The blankets curled up tighter. "It went POP," came Neil's voice, muffled. "You need a new major." "See, he should do philosophy. Very unstressful," said Jack, going back to the computer and ignoring The Cat's glare. Alec shrugged and looked over Jack's shoulder, reading for a moment. "Jack...?" "Yes?" "Weren't you explaining this to me a week ago?" "I may have been." "And wasn't it something of the opposite of what you just wrote a few pages on?" Jack stared at the screen for a moment before diving for his notes. "..." "So. How long have you been working on this?" Jack gave a choked whimper and let his face fall on the keyboard. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, February 2nd, 2003
9:11 pm	"What is drunkeness? How much of it is actual 'drunk' and how much of it is state of mind?" Jack asked, staring blankly at the roof from his position on a beanbag chair. "Are you drunk?" said Neil. "Why do you and Alec always ask that when I start to talk?" Neil thought about it for a moment. "We have this cherished mental picture of you as a little drunk hobo. Whether or not you actually ever drink has never entered into it." "I hate you both." "Love you, wee little hobo." "As I was saying," Jack sat up and continued. "As I was saying, how much is our drunken behaviour the results of us thinking we're drunk insted of the actual effects of the alcohol itself?" "So you only act like a giggly little schoolgirl because you think you should?" "You're not allowed to participate in this discussion anymore." "But I was getting so much into it!" "Any case. I want to know the truth. The trick would be to get drunk without realizing you're consuming alcohol." Neil made a considering noise. "Are you suggesting we spike you drinks?" "Possibly." "Ah, the fun date-rape scenario." The door opened, stopping halfway as it got jammed on some dirty socks. Alec ducked his head around. "Hello hello. I cometh bearing instant cups of noodles." "And lo, Alec was worshipped across the land," said Neil, moving the socks out of the way to let Alec in. "So what're you two up to?" Alec asked. Jack collapsed back onto his beanie chair. "Neil wants to wine me, dine me, and date rape me. I don't feel safe here anymore." Alec made an exagerrated gasp and collected Jack into his arms. "Do not fear! I will protect you from his lechorous ways, my sweet." "My hero." (Comment on this)
Saturday, February 1st, 2003
6:47 pm	More random scenes. "Thing is, we live in an anarchist world." Neil looked up from his shot. "Jack, pay attention. We were talking about how my cat ralphed in my sneakers today. Do stay with the class." Jack shrugged and rubbed more chalk onto his cue. "It just occured to me, so you all have to listen. We are...anarchists. Just by existing. The entire world is, if you look at it from the right perspective." Alec grinned and opened another bottle of beer. "Here you go. Drink some and maybe you'll start to make sense." "Naw, we should be the one's drinking if we want to know what he's going on about." "Sod off. Anyway. Picture the countries as people. And then...you shall realize we are anarchy," Jack took a gulp and continued. "What about laws, you ask me? Why! The laws are each 'person's' personal responsibility, as part of the nature of the beast itself. Therefore, anarchy. The countries exist seperate from actual law, excepting how they govern themselves." "Why do you never go on like this when you have a paper due?" asked Neil. "Your turn, by the way." "Because I am an arteest. Each of these anarchist nations have personalities, too. Canada is a timid librarian type who had a bad youth but is trying to atone by being the quietest little thing she possibly can. England? Bitter old school marm who probably believed in segregation in its day." "What about dear old America?" said Alec. "Why, it's that kid who was in all our classes, the one who was too big to play properly, because he never understood that it hurt other kids when it went too far. And now he's older and still hasn't learned. But he's got his religion by his side to act as guidance and I guess there you go. Are we playing by rules?" Jack asked, looking at where the balls had scattered. Neil looked at the table. "Not anymore." "Oh, that's good then." "Funny that. America's always a man. Whereas Canada may have a bit of gender uncertainty but England's always going to be a old woman, no matter what she does," Alec said. "I dunno. America might be a bull dyke. What about lady Liberty?" said Neil. "That's when America's getting a bit of an urge for good old France, I'd say." Jack took another shot. "Damn. Not a single one. I weep. Have at it, Alec." "Is France a man or a woman?" "A gay transvestite, I'd say." "Oh that wacky France." (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, January 31st, 2003
10:20 pm	"Don't we sound like proper princes." "Mm. Yes. 'Excuse me, miss," quoted Alric in a high accented voice, "could you help us solve our little tiff? Now, my friend here says that a sparrow can only carry so much. But what if we...'" he trailed off and let his voice return to normal. "I'm surprised she didn't pass out before I had a chance to finish." "Why is it always sparrows?" "Because, my dear friend, no one ever suspects sparrows." Alric grinned at Kent, who blushed and continued trying to undo his tie. "I can't believe that they can spend their entire day talking about things like that. I'd go mad if I had to actually mean it," Kent said, throwing his tie aside. "Me too. There's loads of things I'd rather do." "Does any of it involve me and a bed?" "A bed, a wall, a table.. anything I can put you up against." Kent smiled and moved towards Alric, stiffening and turning to examine a vase as a maid entered. Alric smiled gracefully and stood up. "Excuse me, miss, but could you help us settle an argument?" (9 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, November 10th, 2002
1:36 pm	This is all based off what I would want to see in a villain/hero confrontation. It's short. Remember the whoever reads this is my favourites rule. Dark Lord Shrive sat on his throne. In an hour, if the prophecies were as accurate as they'd always been, he'd meet his doom by the Chosen One. He'd had twenty years to rule this land and he'd done it as well as any Dark Lord would. Suddenly the stained glass windows he'd placed on the roof to give the room a more open look smashed inwards and down came the hero. "You're early," Shrive said without looking up from his papers. The Chosen One looked at him in confusion for a moment before soldiering on. "Lord Shrive, I have come to kill you for your crimes against my family and my country." "I didn't do anything to your family," said Shrive. "They're just naturally bad farmers." "You hounded them since the day I was born, in attempts to kill me before I reached adulthood and defeated you," the Chosen One accused. "They said so." "Nope. Never bothered with you at all. If you were going to come kill me, you're going to come kill me. No reason for me to actually give you reason," Shrive finally looked up and smiled pleasantly. "In fact, once I found out that I was bad enough to deserve a Chosen One, I cleaned up my act a bit. Life in this country has never been better." The Chosen One looked like he wished he'd been told about the change of script. Shrive continued. "Of course, if you kill me things are going to go down the drain. I never did train a successor. War, famine, chances of corrupt leadership. Can't wait to see how they thank you for this." The Chosen One frowned. Shrive smirked. Holding an entire country hostage had been one of his better ideas. "You're evil." but it lacked conviction. "I might be. I'm still a good ruler. Look, you're obviously a bit confused. Go home, think about things a bit, see what you decide. I'll wait here. I'm not one to try and thwart prophecy." "...okay" Shrive watched the Chosen One walk off, scratching his head in confusion. Just after he crossed around the corner, Shrive heard a meaty ripping noise. A guard poked his head around the corner and gave him the thumbs up. "God, I love the stupid," said Shrive, turning back to his paperwork making a note to catch up on what he'd been missing all these years. (12 Comments |Comment on this)