Writing Challenge: Not My Story

new

« Prev
1
Next »

Admin!
Administrator

"How does that even work?"

Posts: 2,469

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 5, 2011 19:30:00 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Admin! on Jul 5, 2011 19:30:00 GMT -5

It's writing challenge time again. To enter, just post a ficlet (300-4000 words suggested) in this thread. When the voting for this month's OTM winners comes around, a voting poll will go up for this as well.

The Challenge: Write a story entirely about someone else's character/s. Your own characters may not appear at all, only referenced. No exceptions.

The rules:

Characters must be in Hammel canon, but the ficlets are not site canon unless referenced in a thread.
Alternative universe interpretations of characters are encouraged.
Entries must be more than 300 words. No upper limit on this one.
You can enter no more than three ficlets. Any ficlets posted after the original 3 will not be considered for voting. If you want to post more, however, have fun.
Ficlets must be titled.

Joshua Bernstein
Local

Civil Rights Lawyer
Non-Powered
Played By Dryope

And Justice For All

Posts: 3,962

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 5, 2011 21:19:39 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Joshua Bernstein on Jul 5, 2011 21:19:39 GMT -5

Run Away With You

Cobalt leaned out the window to his dormitory, sighing sadly. He'd only been at Hammel for a week and already he hated it. He didn't know anyone, didn't want to know anyone. As far as he was concerned this stupid school had not only destroyed any chance he had to be adopted but it had taken him away from his one and only friend. And now he was never going to see Danny again.

Or so he thought.

Little did he know that right that instant Danny was lurking outside the gates of Hammel Institute, putting the finishing touches on his flying machine. "This seemed so much easier when it was just models." The dark-haired, bespectacled boy muttered, crouching down to make sure the last wheel was screwed on.

Finding Hammel had been difficult, not because he didn't have the address (he'd memorized the return address from the first letter Cobalt had sent him) but because nobody had really seemed to know exactly where Pilot Ridge was.
But somehow he'd found it, and from there finding the large boarding school had been easy. The only problem was getting in.

So he'd spent a whole day trying to build a flying machine in the woods behind the school. He was a bit dubious since he'd had to steal materials from the little old inventor who lived near the orphanage and had taken him on as apprentice, which really wasn't a very Christian thing for him to do and probably God would be within his rights to strike him out of the sky, but since he was doing it to rescue Cobalt he thought God ought to understand.

He took a deep breath and carefully climbed over the edge of his flying machine. And then realized one very important problem with his plan.
He didn't know how to fly it.

Cobalt was still leaning out his window when he heard an unusual sound, something akin to the sound of a fan whirring very fast. His eyes widened and he jerked his head toward the sound. And there, hovering in the air before him, was a familiar, bright-eyed boy. He scrambled to his feet and yanked off his glasses, wiping them against the too-large pants he wore, before gasping out a weak, "Danny!"

The other boy waved, his flying contraption floating closer. "Cobalt. I got your letter. You sounded so miserable I had to come and get you."

"Danny! You...you....how...!" Cobalt spluttered, but Danny cut him off with a quick gesture.

"Not now. Get in."

The blond boy scrambled over the window and into the airplane, glad for once that he had few belongings. "Danny..." He whispered, hugging his friend tight.

And that was when he noticed that his friend wasn't holding on to the steering wheel.

"Danny!" He yelped, letting go of the older boy. "We're gonna fall!"

Danny smiled and shook his head as the plane slowly drifted over the campus, away from the school that had stolen Cobalt from him. "No, we won't. I met one of your classmates, well, maybe a little older, but she's got this crazy ability to make things fly, she saw me working on this machine and agreed to help us if I'd fix a model car of her brother's. She's getting us just to the edge of the campus, that's as far as she's capable of flying us to."

Cobalt had gotten farther than that on his own, but this time he had Danny with him. They would make it out together.

"Danny. Danny. Danny!" Cobalt shook his friend's shoulder furiously.

The fifteen year old opened his eyes blearily, staring in confusion at his friend. "What?"

"This is our stop."

"Oh!"

The two scrambled out of their seats, stiff-necked and sore from sleeping on the train. Buying tickets had been difficult, to say the least, since neither boy had any money. Cobalt had used his shadows to pick the pockets of a few careless adults.

Danny hoped God would understand.

New York City was bigger and busier than anything either boy had seen in their relatively short lives, and when they stepped out of the Amtrak station and onto the street they both gaped at the towering buildings and the press of people so thick they could barely push their way through. Danny noticed shadows coil around his friend's shoulder at the sight of all the people, and his hand sought out the younger boy's.

Cobalt accepted the hand, fingers intertwining automatically before he realized what he was doing and jerked his hand out of Danny's grasp. Danny gave him a sad smile and lead the way out onto the street. "We need to find a place to stay." He pointed out, and Cobalt nodded silently, looking distracted.

Danny and Cobalt were huddled together on a bench in Central Park. They'd been unable to find any hotel within their price range and the rain was beginning to pour.

"Cobalt," Danny began, his shoulders drooping, "I'm sorry. I wanted to rescue you. I didn't know I was going to make you homeless."

Cobalt cut blue eyes over to his friend and hesitantly patted him on the shoulder. "You did. I don't care if we get rained on, Danny, as long as you're with me."

Their ruminations were cut short as a shadow spilled over them and a kind, patient voice spoke from behind them, "I couldn't help but overhear you say you didn't have a place to stay. My roommate and I wouldn't mind having some company, if you don't mind poker."

The pair twisted around to look up at the speaker -- a giant of a man, maybe around ten years older than them at the most, with pale blue eyes.

Cobalt pressed his mouth into a thin line of suspicion, but Danny piped up with an excited, "Really? That would be great!" before turning to the blonde with a triumphant grin.

As soon as dinner was finished their rescuer and his roommate had exchanged one glance and vacated the apartment, leaving Cobalt and Danny to their own devices.

Cobalt watched the door as if expecting them to burst back in at any moment, followed by Hammel recruiters.

Danny noticed the creased brow and scooted closer to the younger boy, smiling encouragingly. "They were really nice, weren't they?" He asked, once more searching for his friend's hand.

Cobalt tensed, but didn't pull away this time, and Danny's smile grew brighter.

"They won't turn us in, Cobalt. They're nice people, I can tell."

Cobalt shifted his gaze to the floor, his frown transforming from suspicion to weariness. "I guess they were okay..." He muttered, "But I can't trust them, not like you."

Danny squeezed Cobalt's hand. "You heard what they said at dinner. They promised to help us. It'll be okay, Cobalt. Even if we have to rent their extra bedroom together, it'll be okay. Because we're together. We'll figure it out somehow."

That seemed to cheer up the smaller boy and his frown turned into an almost imperceptible smile. "Yeah." He agree,d, "It'll be okay. As long as we're together."

And when he turned to look up at Danny, their faces coming closer together, the older boy reflected that they really were going to go to hell.

But if it was with Cobalt he thought he really didn't mind.

Signature Credits/Thread Tracker++Plotter++Profile

Benjamin Rhodes
Retired

Child Psychologist
Non-Powered
Played By Nu

Filling The Space Around With My Whys

Posts: 572

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 6, 2011 3:36:39 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Benjamin Rhodes on Jul 6, 2011 3:36:39 GMT -5

[/b]Gossip[/b][/u]

"So they got married? Here? In this state?"

"That's what I heard."

"But he's meta."

"That's what I heard too."

"They're allowed?"

"Well, they weren't rule followers to begin with."

"But good God. Gay, one's meta...it doesn't make sense. Doesn't he feel inferior to him?"

"I don't know. All I heard is that it was consensual."

"In this day? I highly doubt it. And you know he's the mental type. Mental meta I mean. He could have easily planted the thought in the other one's head."

"...Oh my God, that's so true. But he looks so happy though."

"You think if he can plant thoughts, he can't plant emotions too?"

"...How do you even know so much about metas anyway?"

"..."

"Don't tell me you're one too!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Don't you know the saying keep your friends close, enemies closer? And hello, it's basic X-Men logic anyway. Professor X totally kidnapped those-"

"Now you don't be ridiculous. I hardly think they're running the place like that fictional school for mutants. And besides, that doctor is not even close to being as dashing as Patrick Stewart."

"...How so true. Anyway. I heard they were adopting. Can you believe it? What sane adoption agency would want to let gay metas adopt?"

"I hope they don't. Can you imagine the amoral things that could happen to the child? I mean, being raised by two gay fathers? As old as them? I wouldn't be surprised if the child grows up gay!"

"We have to get the normal one out from under whatever spell he's in because it can't be a personal choice to be gay and get married to a meta!"

"Oh my God, they're here."

Silence from the gossipmongers as the couple in question walk by, hands clasped in each others, all smiles and affection. There was no denying the love coming from those blue eyes. Unmistaken, unadulterated love. Once they were out of earshot, the two gossipmongers came closer to each other and continued their conversation in hushed tones.

"I hear they're recruiting. Can you imagine a whole gay community of metas and non-metas co-habitating? I hear even sweet Dr. Jones and that hunk Dr. Jordan are now part of their little posse. What is the world coming to?"

"I don't know."

Sighs emanated from the two gossipmongers.

"If I find out more of our men being picked off the street as recruits, I swear to God Hell hath no fury..."

"Amen to th - Oh...my..."

"...Oh my God. In broad daylight! He's just kissing him! Oh my God this is repulsive. Let's get out of here. Lacey! Michael! Kids let's go home."

"Aww but mom, this is the best-"

"Michael Alexander Wilkes! You come here this instant or I'll whoop your ass till next Thursday!"

"Ugh. Fine. Hey, hey Rachel...can you do that thing again?"

A small little blonde girl nodded shyly before clasping her hands together and opening them the next second to reveal a little blue orchid glistening in her palm like a crystal. The siblings stared in awe before being called once more by their mother. They both wave at the girl named Rachel before she too followed the two men being discussed earlier.

"Did you make friends Rachel?"

"I hope I did. Daddy, I don't think they like us very much."

"Sean,"

"Don't worry...in due time, Josh. In due time."

Last Edit: Jul 6, 2011 11:47:11 GMT -5 by Benjamin Rhodes

=images=bio=plot page=

Joshua Bernstein
Local

Civil Rights Lawyer
Non-Powered
Played By Dryope

And Justice For All

Posts: 3,962

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 6, 2011 20:32:56 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Joshua Bernstein on Jul 6, 2011 20:32:56 GMT -5

OOC: Dear Tolkien Estate, please forgive me for butchering this holy text. Also, warning, this went from spoof to OH DEAR GOD NOTHING REMOTELY LIKE THIS EVER HAPPENED. sorry >_>;

Hammelotr: Cobaltli's Wish

Pilothlorien Ridge was a beautiful forest filled with golden Mallorns. After the terrors of the mines and the Balrog that had killed Claudalf, the Fellowship found the forest peaceful and restive, taking a well deserved rest on the banks of the Miirodel river.

What they didn't count on was their rest being interrupted by the recruiters of Pilothlorien Ridge.

It was Benalos's fault. That was what Cobaltli claimed, anyway. After all, if Benalos hadn't stopped to sing his stupid song about Miirodel and her ill-fated love affair with Darrylroth then the recruiters wouldn't have found them. And if the recruiters hadn't found them then they wouldn't have had to wear those stupid blind-folds.

Benalos tried to tell him he was being unreasonable, but when Seanagorn suggested that they all wear blind-folds he had sure changed his tune. Ha. Cobaltli had taken a small bit of pleasure from that, even if it had been Seanagorn's suggestion. Hey, the guy couldn't be wrong all the time.

Actually, once they were in Hammel Galadhon, Pilothlorien Ridge's hidden seat of power, they were allowed to take the blind-folds off, but Cobaltli was determined to hold it against them. Seriously, elf jerks, treating him like he was some sort of freak just because he was a dwarf. No matter what Benalos said the Balrog wasn't the dwarves fault, and he couldn't believe that the elves here seemed to agree that it was. Closed-minded, that's what it was.

Before they could even rest they were swept up to see the Lady of Pilothlorien Ridge and her King. Seanagorn she greeted with the affection of long association, though she had kind words for each of them in turn. Danniadoc and Mitchegan kept close together, looking a bit nervous as the beautiful Elaindriel's gaze fell upon them. Rileywise was unabashedly in awe, though he too kept close to his weary master, Griffo. Cobaltli hovered behind the rest of the group, looking unimpressed and suspicious.

"And where is Claudalf?" Elaindriel asked after she'd acknowledged each member of the group.

Seanagorn sighed heavily, lines of worry etched across his face. "I'm afraid that Claudalf was lost in Moria." He admitted.

Elaindriel frowned at this news, clasping white hands in front of her. "This is terrible news indeed. We hadn't heard this." She glanced over at her husband, King Charlieborn, but he was too busy scratching the ears of his great hound, Huon, to be paying much attention to what Elaindriel was discussing with their visitors.

"Would anyone care for refreshments? I have Lembas and Miruvor in the other room."

The faces of the hobbits lit up and they all clammored to follow the stately woman. Cobaltli trailed behind them, still wearing a suspicious scowl. He noticed that Seanagorn didn't follow them, instead slipping down a side door. Definitely suspicious; Seanagorn had a well-known fondness for both Lembas and Miruvor.

He continued to hang back as Elaindriel socialized with the hobbits and Benalos, offering Rileywise tips on how to bake the Lembas as well as how to grow his garden better and promising to give him a Mallorn seed to take with him, offering Griffo tips on how to sleep better at night with cursed jewelry, and asking Danniadoc and Mitchegan they wanted to help redesign the royal library.

He didn't move from his corner, refusing to make any move for the refreshments. Maybe she wouldn't notice he was there if he stayed still.

No such luck. The elf-queen turned and smiled at him. "Cobaltli? Wouldn't you like some?"

"Ah...n...no, I'm fine." He stammered, glaring down at the floor, but she swept up beside him, placing one hand on his shoulder.

"You've had such a long trip, surely you must be thirsty." She guided him gently toward the table, filling a glass of Miruvor and handing it to him. "I'm very sorry for the way the recruiters treated you." She added ruefully. "They can be a bit overenthusiastic in their duties. I do hope you can enjoy the rest of your stay."

Cobaltli shrugged uncomfortably. In spite of himself he found himself rather taken with Elaindriel; she was possibly the most gracious person he'd ever met. "Ah...I..suppose." He mumbled, accepting the Miruvor and taking a sip. Not bad.

"I've given all your comrades gifts." She informed him. "Rileywise wanted a special tree for his garden, Griffo a vial of light. Danniadoc and Mitchegan needed new weapons. Seanagorn recieved Elendilmir....that is, Cerebro." She clarified, seeing the blank stare on Cobaltli's face.

"....indeed." He muttered.

"But you, sir Cobaltli, what gift is appropriate for the first dwarf to step foot in Hammel Galadhon since before Moria was abandoned?" Elaindriel prompted, causing Cobaltli to sputter in surprise.

"Lady Elaindriel!" He shook his head once, huffing out a laugh and stealing a glance toward Benalos (who was staring at him. What a weirdo.) before returning his gaze toward Elaindriel, "being in the presence of your beauty and graciousness is gift enough for me. But, ahhh..." He gave the elf-queen a shy look, "If you wouldn't mind a lock of your hair to remember you by."

The Lady followed his gaze to Benalos and smiled, "I never knew that dwarves were so charming," She commented, "I shall grant you your wish." She placed her hand on his shoulder once more, her own laughter tinkling like chimes, so much more delicate than his laughter. "Yes," She kept her gaze on Benalos, "Yes, your request shall be granted."

Signature Credits/Thread Tracker++Plotter++Profile

Janice Adams
Retired

Civil Rights Lawyer
Non-Powered
Played By Kayla

You can choose to let it go. We can always party on our own

Posts: 81

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 7, 2011 15:43:50 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Janice Adams on Jul 7, 2011 15:43:50 GMT -5

[ooc: YES. Continuing the madness! With a prequel! My deepest apologies to the Tolkien Estate, my Honors LOTR professor, and Hammel. I love you all, I promise. This is dedicated to Dryope, and her powers of peer pressure. <3]

Hammelotr: The Powers of Elaindriel

Seanagorn was most weary. He had traveled with his comrades, Chasadan and Vincerohir for many weeks in the hunt for spies of the Enemy. Their intelligence has confirmed that the Dark Lord Gabron was indeed growing stronger, and his dark forces were everywhere. Thankfully, the MSAD Riders had not been seen anywhere, as far as anyone has reported, but Seanagorn had taken it upon himself to personally investigate any claims or rumors of the enemy’s forces. Chasadan and Vincerohir accompanied him out of long habit, for both had known Seanagorn the Ranger since his youth and had accompanied him on countless battles against the Enemy.

Now, however, they had achieved a small victory. For, in the Marshes of Vermont, they happened across the creature Paullum, a known supporter of Lord Gabron. They subdued him and carried him through the Marshes. Seanagorn had insisted that he be handled humanely, which had resulted in the creature nearly escaping more often than not. The trio decided to take the creature to Pilothlorien Ridge, to the very heart of Hammel Galadhon to see Lady Elaindriel and Lord Charlieborn. Because if anyone could see through the disguises of the Enemy, it was Lady Elaindriel. She had a special gift for things like that.

With Paullum bound and blindfolded, the three were escorted by recruiters through the beautiful mallorn forest to the mighty and elegant fortress of Hammel Galadhon. When they reached the pavilion, they waited patiently for the appearance of Elaindriel and Charlieborn, watching Paullum carefully.

Finally, the Queen herself strode into the pavilion, a quiet smile on her face. “Seanagorn. Chasadan. And Vincerohir. I am so pleased to see you all; it looks as though you have traveled a hard road.” She looked them over, “And you are all too skinny. Clearly not eating enough, and Seanagorn, when is the last time you took a bath, young man? You smell like dirt, and your hair is greasier than—”

“Er. A thousand apologies of our disarray, Lady.” Chasadan interrupted hastily before his reputation was completely destroyed, “And for the presence of such evil in your house, but we have need of your special gifts.” He turned, gesturing towards Paullum, who was watching Lady Elaindriel with a look of great interest on his haunted face. “This is a creature touched by evil, but if he knows anything of use to us, he will not reveal it willingly. We were hoping if you could speak to him, and see if you read anything from him.” All three noble men looked embarrassed, having to ask a great Queen to speak to something so evil, but Elaindriel didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Of course.” She stepped down and stood in front of the creature Paullum, staring at him closely. A grave expression passed over her beautiful face, “Indeed, he is covered in darkness, that much is certain. Creature, what do you know of the plans of Gabron. Speak truthfully now, and we will grant you protection. This, I promise you.” This was met with astonishment from everyone in the room, Paullum included. Clearly, the creature was not expecting an offer of clemency.

“Paullum does not know much, no, no.” The creature shook its bald head, “He is just looking for fishes and tasties to eats and then they took him!” He bared his teeth at Chasadan, who didn’t look very appreciative of the gesture. Seanagorn merely looked bereaved. But that was how Seanagorn looked most of the time.

Elaindriel looked appropriately sympathetic, “Then you know nothing of the plans of the Dark Lord Gabron?”

Paullum turned pale eyes at Elaindriel, “Paullum knows, yes. Paullum stays hidden. Sees things. Hears things, yes, yes Paullum!” The creature coughed, “There will be no hiding in the shiny Hammel lands, no, no. Lord Gabron comes to Hammel lands and takes it over! And then Paullum will laugh and laugh and—”

“Creature Paullum!!” Elaindriel turned suddenly serious, her stature growing three times her natural frame, and her eyes and face darkening dangerously. Everyone present trembled; for it was well-known that Elaindriel was fiercely protective of Pilotlorien Ridge and all of her ‘babies’. “There is nothing funny about total annihilation! We have offered you clemency and protection and you have been quite rude. And I will not have any of it in my house!” Finally, she subsided back to the dainty looking woman she was before, albeit with a sterner look on her face. Finally, she turned to Chasadan and Vincerohir, “Would you two be dears and take Paullum to the dungeons so that he may think about what he’s done? Thank you.”

Paullum looked shocked, clearly expecting to be put to death on the spot. When he was dragged off, Elaindriel turned to Seanagorn and sighed, “Seanagorn, you really should bathe soon. But I sense a dark shadow on your heart. What is it this time?” She said this kindly: Seanagorn always had something to worry about, and as everyone’s mother, Elaindriel felt the need to make him feel better.

Seanagorn sighed deeply, “Lady, I fear I shall never be able to be with my one true love. My Joshwen. His parents will never approve.”

Elaindriel also sighed deeply, “Is it that again. Dear Seanagorn, I have told you, if you take your spot on the throne of Metador, there will be no reason his parents will not allow the marriage. And yet, you choose to skulk about the woods and roll in the dirt.” She put her hands on her hips and raised a motherly eyebrow, “Now, how is this helping anyone?”

Seanagorn looked a little shamefaced, “It doesn’t. But Lady Elaindriel, my entire family is ashamed of me. How can I presume to take the throne of Metador, if my own family does not want me in their house?”

Elaindriel sniffed, “Seanagorn, I think it’s time you stopped worrying about what your birthfamily thinks of you.” She smiled kindly, “For you have a family here at Hammel Galadhon, and we are all very proud of you.”

Seanagorn smiled slightly, “Thank you, my Lady.”

“Very good. Now, go see how Chasadan and Vincerohir are coming along and then the three of you can go get some lembas. You are all far too skinny and clearly not eating properly. But right after you are done, Seanagorn, you are taking a bath.” She looked at him sternly.

“…Yes, my Lady.”

“Good boy.”

Zaeric Blackwood
Retired

Cryokinesis

Music can change the world because it can change people

Posts: 166

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 11, 2011 8:27:05 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Zaeric Blackwood on Jul 11, 2011 8:27:05 GMT -5

| A Rose Smells Sweetest |

She woke, something making her heart beat faster and faster. The tall, lanky girl threw the dark wine colored blankets off her and let her pale feet touch the floor. It may have sent chills up her spine, but it also let a dark smile curve across her face. Cold, death, they seemed to go hand in hand. She shouldn’t have been surprised. With death also came grace and beauty, something that could never reach perfection in life. The girl let a cavernous yawn escape her, sharp canines sparkling in the low light. Not the ones she used to have custom made, no, real teeth. As real as her current living status; not alive at all. Four years had it been? Was it only four short years ago? It seemed so much longer, like time had driven stakes and the world and stretched every luxurious moment to the fullest. The smile widened into a grin and she rose.

Now only to figure out what had woken her. It wasn’t a nightmare that made her heart beat so fast. She didn’t have anything to fear. So what was it? A realization maybe? Some idea come into her head that she didn’t like. Her pale form whispered over to the dark armoire to choose her clothing for the day. As she critically eyed the items in there, her mind turned over the problem of her haunted sleep. She didn’t even need to sleep, it was just a luxury now to be enjoyed. She didn’t need much of anything, other than the lifeblood of others. That had never bothered her in life, and the prospect only invigorated her now. A sigh escaped. So what was the issue. Her hands grasped a black and gold corset and a deep red top. From somewhere inside the armoire she pulled out a short black skirt and peek-a-boo lace stockings. Perfect. The slim, graceful steampunk boots sitting next to the armoire were just waiting for her feet to slide into them. The ensemble would go nicely.

It only took her a few moments to get dressed, and then she was staring at herself in the mirror. Her hair was bright red and black. She added a few gold and black hair pieces and extensions, liking the general look. One that was done she attended her makeup. No matter how dead a person might be they still had to look their best. Black kohl liner surrounded her eyes in slow strokes and a slight amount of shimmer after. A glittering heart dripped from the corner of one eye and she decided she was pleased with her appearance.

With that done she was ready to go face her world, the place of dark and blood was her home. It always had been, but now it was hers to claim kinship of forever. She was part of the court of death and nothing would change that now. A tantalizing smell brought her out of her room and through the long winding hall. The stairs were no problem, and she descended them as silently as always, as silently as she always would. Still, the nighttime thought pestered her. Why did it leave such an impression? Why was it so important that she grasp the idea and strangle the life from it? This thought occupied her journey to the kitchen.

On the table a goblet rested. Mhmm, the smell was divine. None of the grand food around it mattered, just that single goblet of lifeblood, waiting for her. And it was o-so-sweet. Someone young and innocent with just a tinge of fear. But the thought continued to plague her even as this moment of pure enjoyment took her. Sitting there, what would have been behind the goblet, was a doll. A pretty, thin pale creature, not unlike herself. Yet the thing was completely unlike herself in so many ways. It wore a vacant expression of happiness and its hair was white blonde. Its clothes were pale frosty while her were dark and breathed of shadows. And the thing was just so, everything she wasn’t and didn’t want to be. Like Barbie had tried and failed to fit what should have been gothic vampire. She was more of a preppy Lolita than anything. The whole appearance of the porcelain creature was disgustingly normal. Next to her was a card, her name written on it in spiked letters. Sidra If so named it was meant for her then. Why did this doll show up? She had seen them before, been the center of their attention when they showed up at her door or her spot at a table. Why did they matter. And were they connected to that feeling from sleep, the thought that had evaded her so thoroughly already?

Sidra grasped the thick paper and unfolded it, reading the words inside. Your turn comes soon Love Her turn for what? Some shred of thought entered her mind and pieces clicked into place. Her turn to be a sugar coated, frosty, empty Barbie doll? Someone’s toy?

When had she ever seen a true dark Vampire? There were none. Everything was too light, too airy. Even the one who had turned her was blonde and blue eyes, very different from her own hazel eyes and somewhere, under the color, brown hair. Why was everyone like…..like Barbie! The wheels in her mind spun. Was that what that note meant? She was next on the list of barbies, next on the list of to become some blow up doll with no true worth. HA! Let them try. She was a night creature, not some porcelain doll to be yanked around and dressed in bright colors.

The youth swirled as she heard a step behind her and looked up to glare into the bright blue eyes and blonde hair of the man who had turned her. A lazy smile glimmered across his face, showing a glint of fang in the light. A frown covered Sidra’s face as she examined him. All the mystery she had so longed for before seemed to have fled from him, leaving him as nothing but a tall blonde man with fangs.
“ I see you’ve found my little note.” He said in a surprisingly mellow, almost baritone voice. She wanted that voice to soothe her fears, but obviously that wasn’t going to be happening.

“ Thierry.” It was a statement full of annoyance and sarcasm. The man just laughed and glided toward one of the chairs.

“ I told you Sidra, from the beginning what being a vampire meant to us. It’s all a game love. A game to see who can survive the longest. We must fit in to survive, and as lovely as you are you stick out like a red rose in fresh snow. These past few months of watching you grow into a night creature have been fun. We all know a rose smells sweetest as it begins to die, so I knew it was time for you to be one of us. ” Her eyebrow rose upward. Oh really now. Nothing had ever been said to her about fitting in. She didn’t want to fit it, and never had. And she wasn’t dying, she was already dead. Cold and lifeless save for the remnants of living that she could control, like the sound of her heart beating. How could she smell sweetest now?

“ It’s your turn.” The challenge was issued. She looked straight at Thierry and laughed, an acerbic, caustic laugh. Her grin showed more fang than necessary. Ha. He thought he was going to turn her into some Barbie for a collection of vampires who wanted to be normal. They wanted nothing more than to be like the mundane people she had so scorned all her life. Well that just wasn’t going to happen. As her smile grew his smile waned, and inside bubbled a challenge. She was going to be the victor, because this what was she had chosen and nothing was going to stand in her way. Nothing.

“ Try me.”

Last Edit: Jul 11, 2011 8:28:38 GMT -5 by Zaeric Blackwood

Thanx Tony, Lynxie and Chez!
|Played By Neki|

Dr. Sean Neville
Institute Official

Psychiatrist
Telepathy/Memory Manipulation
Played By Sean

The One and Only Seangularity

Posts: 8,987

Gender:: Male

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 14, 2011 10:28:40 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Jul 14, 2011 10:28:40 GMT -5

Outrageous

It's outrageous to line your pockets off the misery of the poor.
Outrageous the crime some human beings must endure.
It's a blessing to wash your face in the summer solstice rain.
It's outrageous a man like me stand here and complain.

The two men rounded the corner, hopeful that they’d lost the person who was tailing them. This was ridiculous; they hadn’t done anything wrong – well, nothing recent, nothing that anyone else knew about anyway. Still, being chased across downtown at a time when they should be asleep was more than they deserved.

As they pressed up against the wall of the building and looked around, they took comfort in the fact that they were alone and safe.

That was, until a leather-clad body landed on one of them.

He’d come out of nowhere, which was to say that neither man had bothered to look up when they had taken refuge in this alley. Perhaps they should have.

The taller one took one glance at his friend on the ground and then at the man who had landed on top of him before making a decision; he turned tail and ran, leaving his friend behind. There was no honesty among crooks.

The shorter one didn’t have the opportunity to protest, because of the weight crushing his body, pressing him into the concrete. And when the man finally got off him, there was only a momentary reprieve as he was yanked harshly to his feet by surprisingly strong arms.

“I want answers.” The leather-clad man’s face was masked; all he could see was a sliver of blue eyes.

“What makes you think I have any?”

“Let’s call it a hunch.”

“Your hunches are wrong, old man.” That was a guess since the short man had no clue whether this man was old or not, but it tended to be an effective insult.

Effective indeed, because the leather-clad man slapped him across the face. “Watch your mouth.”

The shorter man reeled from the slap, but he was pleased with himself for getting to this assailant. “Make me.”

The leather-clad man’s hand’s loosened around him, and he thought he had been successful with his challenge. That was proven incorrect.

“You see, I’m not a very patient person,” the leather-clad figure said, as he grabbed the shorter man by the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall. “My partner, he was the patient one and he’s in a coma right now. Which means...what is it that kids say these days? It sucks to be you.”

He ground his elbow into the small of the short man’s back, quite painfully, as he knew it would be; he’d learned well. “Now let me tell you how this is going to work. I’ll ask you a question, and you answer it. If you stall or make my life difficult in any way, I’ll make sure the police hear about that robbery you and your friend pulled off in Rhode Island last month.”

“How did you know about-”

“No questions now. Answers.” The elbow dug in a bit more amidst a gasp of pain from the shorter man. “About the break-in on McBride Avenue...”

**********************************************************************

The next morning, Joshua Bernstein was running primarily on coffee as his means of staying awake. His legs were bruised from his haphazard landing in an alley; fortunately, someone had broken his fall. More fortunately than that, his suit covered the bruises and so nobody in the court house would know about last night’s activities.

Almost nobody.

Officer Charlie Davis approached him during the recess between morning calendar and afternoon calendar, when he was outside for a smoke break. “You need to be more careful.”

Josh didn’t turn his head, although he pulled the cigarette from his mouth, tapping one end lightly to dispose of the ash. “Beg pardon?”

Charlie didn’t particularly like it when the other half of a conversation didn’t look at him, but he was far too polite to bring that up. Particularly not when there were more important matters at hand. “The whole force appreciates the help you give, but you’re getting sloppy. People saw you last night.”

Josh took another drag of the cigarette, finally turning to look at the officer. “I’m told I have to do the best I can while accounting for diminished capacity.”

“That’s not what I mean. It’s just that I don’t think anyone’s ever seen you before. Usually you’re like a ninja.”

“I’m alone, thanks to the hospital,” Josh said coolly. He took another drag and then flicked more ash to the ground.

Realization dawned on the officer that it was more than a combination of caution and luck that had kept the lawyer from previous discovery. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Josh dropped the cigarette and crushed it under the heel of his shoe. “I have to go. Client meeting. But I’d keep an eye on the bank if I were you.”

“The bank?”

“Thursday or Friday.” With that, Josh turned and went back inside the court house, leaving the officer behind.

******************************************************************

Thursday night, right before closing, there was an armed robbery at the bank. The police apprehended the robbers before they could abscond with the money, and there was only minimal trauma because apart from the bank tellers, there had only been one customer.

Josh received a thank you card from Charlie, which he shoved in his work desk drawer without reading. He didn’t want to be thanked; he wanted answers.

His other leads were slowly going cold which did him no good. And he couldn’t get into the hospital because he wasn’t family. He was smoking more because of the stress; he always smelled like smoke now.

Apparently the odor was so offensive that James Campbell wouldn’t meet with him in person. He sent intermediaries, which was mildly offensive but better than nothing at all.

The small Russian woman sat across from him in the booth at the back of the diner. She had a stack of information that he’d requested from James; at least he was still taking requests, even if he pawned his meetings off on someone else. She patiently explained what was confidential, what had to be returned when he finished, what had to be destroyed. He listened patiently while smoking a cigarette; thankfully she didn’t wrinkle her nose or give him a lecture.

“Do you have any questions?”

He blinked, not realizing she would finish so soon. Then he shook his head. While he had questions, none were about the resources; the resources were intended to be his answers. He fished around his pocket until he pulled out six fifty dollar bills and a prescription script. Thankfully those were filled out and signed in advance of information drops; otherwise he’d be up the creek in present circumstances. Handing them over, he took the pile of information. “Thank your boss for me.”

The Russian woman studied him for a moment, and her stern features softened. “Don’t do anything stupid, Joshua.”

“Don’t you trust me?” He dropped his cigarette in the ashtray and left before she could answer.

****************************************************************************

Josh grew to resent his court schedule, since he had hundreds of hours of information to wade through and he had to break the routine to go to court instead of holing up in his house and keeping his own schedule. He supposed he should be grateful that the firm had so many clients that he and Janice both had full schedules, but money was of no concern to him.

Because of court, it took an eternity to get through the material, and he was running on more coffee than usual. Coffee and cigarettes – he would make a beatnik somewhere quite proud.

When he finally came across a deposit of useful information, he called Janice and asked him to cover for him. He couldn’t break the stride of discovery. She hadn’t been happy but he wasn’t in a place, emotionally, where he could make himself care.

And when he finished, he had a lead: Jacob Lawrence. He smiled grimly to himself; this was, after all, what he had wanted.

Pulling out his phone, he placed the call. “Blue? I need a gun; yes the Friday Night Special will be fine. Come by later.”

Hanging up, he lit another cigarette. He’d get this S.O.B. yet.

You want to graduate? Listen to Sean talk about condoms.

Jalen August
Retired

Sonic Manipulation

Closet Romantic

Posts: 513

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 18, 2011 16:17:45 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Jalen August on Jul 18, 2011 16:17:45 GMT -5

Remarried

“So, what’re you doing once we land?”

The blonde looked up, a half grin on his face.

“Going to my mom’s wedding,” he said in that twang of his, his sky blue eyes holding those of his neighbour on the plane. He was just happy to have the window seat, he felt claustrophobic as it was. He wasn’t really interested in entertaining the redheaded woman, and he only answered her to be polite. His mind was on other things – mainly being the first one to get off of this plane. He was afraid of flying, but it was the fastest route.

He could feel her eyes on him. Yes, he was thirty, and yes, his mom was getting married. A flush found its way to his face as he focused on the procedures on how to exit the plane in case of emergency that was peeking out of the seat in front of him. Did she really have to look at him like that? Maybe it was because of the bedazzled cowboy hat and beige tuxedo he was wearing...

“Hello passengers, this is your pilot speaking. We will be landing momentarily, so please fasten your seatbelts. The weather is...”

The overly friendly voice went on and on and the young man settled into his seat, drowning it out. There was no need to buckle up – he hadn’t left his seat the entire flight. He closed his eyes as he felt the movements of the plane, nothing like those of a horse. What he wouldn’t give to be on a stallion right now... He supposed the jostling of the plane as it hit the ground would have to do.

“It was nice to meet you Cody,” the same red haired woman said as she took her luggage off of the moving conveyer belt. A tilt of his was given to her, “You too ma’am,” he muttered, before spotting his sack and heaving it off the belt so he could get a move on.

He hadn’t been to Montana for some time now, but it felt the same as it always had – home.

Digging around for his cell phone and turning it on, there were a few missed called from his mom, and one unknown number. The wedding was at three in the afternoon, it was only one, what was so important that Natalie had to call him seven times when she knew he was just getting here?

Hailing a taxi and uttering the address for the ceremony, Cody found it strange that his mom was getting married – for a couple of reasons. One, she swore never to do it again, and two, it was in the same location she had married his father when both of them were only nineteen. Harrison insisted it be at the family ranch. The whole ordeal wasn’t going to be awkward at all is seemed, as Harrison claimed to be perfectly happy with his new wife Beverly, even though she didn’t come close to having the same skill and spirit that Natalie had when it came to horses.

It had been a pain in the ass to get some ranch hands in order for him to even come to the wedding, so he secretly hoped that Natalie would stay married this time... Cody wasn’t exactly optimistic about the whole thing. It just seemed like another shot gun wedding to him.

His phone was buzzing again, and he picked up. “Yes mom?” He drawled, looking out the window as he neared the Rocky Mountains, wondering if maybe she had forgotten something. “Hey darlin’, was just wondering if you got here alright.” Her voice was breathless, and Cody could just imagine how ragged she must be. “Fine mom, shouldn’t you be getting ready? I’ll be there any second.” The line went dead. Cody took the phone away from his ear only to see that the time was still ticking. He was still connected.

“Mom? You okay?” He asked, and a sigh came from across the line. “Fine, can’t wait to see you. I’m still you’re mom you know, I still worry about you.” Cody smiled. “Can’t wait to see how beautiful you look,” he added, a smirk dancing across his lips at the present he bought for her. Russell was a traveler, just like she was, so Cody thought they would appreciate two tickets to Vegas next month – once the honeymoon was over.

A few minutes later, and Cody was hanging up the phone, paying the driver, and dragging his suitcase across the gravel driveway. The ranch was in tip top shape, decorated with white lawn chairs, streamers, and balloons in the back. Anyone would be able to tell there was a wedding going on.

“Cody!” It was Natalie, in gown, flying down the outside stairs at him. Lifting her in his burly arms, they laughed together before he set her down on the ground, looking proud as can be. “Well my my my momma, don’t you look stunning.” It was only the truth, and the older woman gave a little spin in her off-white dress, a big smile on her face. “Well come inside then, you have to say hi to everyone,” Cody grinned – he knew this was coming.

A hug was shared between Cody and his dad, before he got himself a drink of water and carried on with the rest of the relatives. It was just great to see everyone together again, even if the circumstances were a little odd. Someone caught his eye that he didn’t recognize, a guy about his age. His sand coloured hair was tucked under a black cowboy hat and his dark blue eyes darted every which way. He seemed a little on edge. “You alright there bud?” Cody asked the man, taking a sip from his drink. The cowboy looked up at him briefly and they held eyes for the longest time before he looked down again, and Cody frowned. What was this guy’s problem?

“Oh,” it was his mother, joining his side, “Cody, I see you’ve met Clayton.” The boy named Clayton nearly shot out of his seat, a big grin on his face now. “Well I’ll be! Cody Branson, I’ve been dying to meet ya!” He was vigorously shaking Cody’s hand while the thirty year old had a confused smile on his face. Natalie was looking nervously between the two of them, unsure of what to say. “Just who are you Clay? Distant cousin?” Cody asked, holding his glass in front of him. “Why, I’m Clayton Branson, your younger brother of course. I tried calling you a little while ago, but... ” He was going on and on, but Cody had stopped listening.

His jaw had dropped, his hand twitching, about to release his glass before his reflexes kicked in to grab it again. “What?” He said, looking from Clayton to Natalie, wondering if this was just a joke. “It’s true my boy,” it was his dad this time; he was standing behind Cody his a hand on his son’s shoulder. “He’s been living here with me,” Cody looked at his mother again, who was trying to smile, but looked away with tears in her eyes. He had had a brother for this long, and no one had told him? “I don’t believe this...” he said, setting the glass down on the table before turning to leave the house.

This could not be happening.

Esme Bakus
Retired

Researcher
Shapeshifter

She's "Oh my god, there's an octopus in the bathroom" weird.

Posts: 72

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 24, 2011 9:15:07 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Esme Bakus on Jul 24, 2011 9:15:07 GMT -5

Scraps[/u]

I like her. I mean I really like her. Her cooking is amazing, and she smells like something fresh and sweet. She knows just how to hold me to make me feel like I’m the only thing in the world. Even when I don’t understand everything she’s saying (she does speak a different language, you know), I feel like she’s talking just especially for me.

Yes, I really like her.

And I didn’t even know her name for the longest time.

I mean now I know it’s Anya.

And I know I love her. I really do.

And I’ll do anything to protect her, just anything.

I said that about the last person I was with, but this one…this one is different. It’s just me and her (and sometimes the cat). Without me, she might get hurt. Without her, I’d be lost.

Yeah, we’re basically perfect for eachother.

I mean, have you ever tried her cooking? It’s basically the best thing ever.

And she smells so lovely. But I already said that didn’t I? I just can’t help myself, I get so excited when she’s around! I go for so long not being able to see her and then I hear her coming to the door and it’s like the best thing in the world to me!

Then, when she sits down to rest, I kiss her hands to help her relax, and we cuddle on the couch until it’s time for dinner.

Dinner…yum.

She’s making dinner now, and I bet if I sit quietly at the table she’ll give me something to eat.
There is no guest tonight. Just me and Anya.

“Orpheus! Come here boy!”

I gotta go, Anya is calling me. I think she needs me to help clean up some of the scraps.

Tasty, tasty scraps.

Cobalt Weaver
Retired

Attorney
Shadow Manipulation
Played By Kayla

"It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us."

Posts: 953

Writing Challenge: Not My Story Jul 26, 2011 3:20:39 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Cobalt Weaver on Jul 26, 2011 3:20:39 GMT -5

[ooc: The song lyrics featured are Flogging Molly's "If I Ever Leave This World Alive" With respect and love to Nu and Riley <3]

If I Ever Leave This World Alive

If I ever leave this world alive
I'll thank for all the things you did in my life

His name was Michael Knowles, according to his resume. Hard worker, high recommendation, biggest smile Riley’d ever seen. Not that he’d known that from the resume, of course. That would be weird. No, he never would have known except for the interview. Which in and of itself was strange: holding interviews for positions at his own business. The power made Riley feel a little uncomfortable. But he’d been put at ease almost immediately by Michael’s smile.

At the end of the interview, Michael grinned and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “So how ‘bout it, boss? I got the job?”

Riley knew the protocol was to not make a decision until all the applicants had been screened and go through all the resumes and double check the references. But when he looked at the other man’s earnest grin and wide brown eyes, all Riley could manage was: “Y-yeah. Looks like.”

Michael beamed wider and Riley was compelled to join him.

If I ever leave this world alive
I'll come back down and sit beside your feet tonight

If there was one thing Riley disliked about his job—the one and only thing he disliked about his wonderful job—was summer. It was just too hot. As was his wont, Riley made sure that his workers kept well hydrated and took whatever breaks they needed, which the majority of his employees did.

Except for Michael.

“Really, Michael, you should have a rest,” Riley insisted for what must have been the ninth or tenth time this afternoon, “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

Michael turned and flashed him his trademark grin, “Worried, boss? I’m touched.” He shook his head gently, “Nope. I’m not going to take a break yet.”

“Why not?” Riley asked, despairing.

“Because you haven’t yet.” Michael responded, looking over his shoulder as he struck the ground with his shovel again, “Doesn’t seem right, does it? At least I’m wearing a hat. And you’ve been passing out water to everyone else. Did you leave any for you?”

“W-well… No.” Riley confessed, flushing. Michael laughed.

“That’s the best and worst thing about you, boss.” He tossed a shovelful of dirt to the side and knelt down, reaching for the bulbs of half-bloomed magnolias, “You think about everyone else in the whole damned world before yourself.” He pressed the flowers into the ground gently, smoothing the earth around the plant with large, careful hands. He grinned almost impishly, “Well, I won’t have it. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t kill yourself bending over backwards for the world.” And then, considering the subject closed, Michael turned back to the magnolias, making sure the plant was secure before pushing himself off the ground and reaching for his shovel.

Riley watched him work for a while before kneeling down next to him, handing him another half-bloomed plant. In a rare burst of self-confidence Riley had never felt before, when Michael reached for the plant, he pulled it away slightly, waiting for the other man to look up at him, confused. The taller man grinned a little nervously; perpetually and inextricably bashful:

“You can call me Riley.”

Wherever I am you'll always be
More than just a memory
If I ever leave this world alive

Riley stood out in the rain, his face tilted up to catch the drops as they fell. They’d called off work today because the torrents were so bad, and Riley really should be going home. He’d sent everyone else away, and he was going to catch cold if he didn’t get out of there, but there was something so beautiful and clean about the rain. He smiled, his earnest face quietly thrilled with the feeling of everything washing away, just for a little while.

“Y’know, I never used to like the rain.”

Riley started, turning around to see Michael walking over to stand with him, his hands in his pockets and his reddish hair plastered to his forehead. He was still smiling. Or maybe he never stopped, Riley didn’t know. His heart thudded as it was wont to do when Michael looked at him. That was probably a bad thing, considering orientation wasn’t one of the things he screened for in his interviews. Riley gave the other man a quiet smile and self-depreciating shrug.

“I dunno,” He said, looking sheepish, “I think there’s something really… really beautiful about how it feels. Like everything’s being cleaned out, so you can start over.” Suddenly embarrassed, he ducked his head, “Heh. There’s me being all poetic I guess. Should just stick to my day job, huh?”

Michael’s smile changed then. It softened and grew heartbreakingly fond. Riley could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “Nah. You’re a poet and you didn’t even know it.” He snickered at his own joke as Riley groaned teasingly. “Hey, I bet you’re one of those people who dance in the rain all the time, huh?”

Riley blushed scarlet. Because the answer was yes, but he didn’t want to admit that. He was a grown man, for heaven’s sake, and he was certainly no Gene Kelley. “W-well… Um. I don’t—it’s—”

Michael took three steps forward and cut him off by grabbing his hands. “Well, I’m no real dancer, but I’d like to give it a whirl.” He was still grinning, but there was a question there, a real uncertainty in his eyes that he might have gone too far. Riley realized then that the ball was in his court; one word from him and Michael would go away and never do this again. Or…

“Okay.” Riley laughed, spinning Michael under his arm (because Riley couldn’t very well spin under Michael’s arm—the other man was still too short for giant Riley). Michael’s laugh sounded something like relief and it suddenly occurred to Riley that Michael had actually been nervous. Passionate, confident Michael Knowles had been nervous that Riley would reject him. And—and…

Riley stopped moving, and Michael bumped into him. They were close together, and Riley could feel Michael’s breath on his face. Riley leaned in and kissed him, quiet, gentle and unassuming. Michael leaned forward, cupping Riley’s face in his hands. When they parted, they stared at each other for a moment.

Finally, Michael grinned crookedly, “So, am I Gene Kelley or Debbie Reynolds?” They both laughed as the rain poured down.

If I ever leave this world alive
I'll take on all the sadness
That I left behind
If I ever leave this world alive
The madness that you feel will soon subside

“How come you never talk about your family?”

The question was out of the blue, to say the least. Riley looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, Michael flopped behind him on Riley’s couch, playing with Riley’s hair. “W-what?” Riley stammered, “I talk about my family all the time, what are you talking about?”

“Well…” Michael straightened up, looking thoughtful, “I guess that’s not what I mean. I dunno, you tell me about your mom and your sister, but never about, like, your dad or anything. I don’t ever hear about what happened before you went to Hammel. You’ve got loads of pictures you compulsively keep, but none of you as a kid.” He shrugged, “I’m just curious.”

Riley swallowed hard, tiny tremors of panic breaking through his expression. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want anyone to know. Hell, he didn’t even talk about that with his sister and what was he supposed to say now that wouldn’t make Michael look at him differently? Nobody was supposed to know so that Riley could go on pretending everything had been fine and now what was he supposed to do?

He stood up sharply, startling Michael. “I-I don’t want to talk about it.” He said quietly, turning and walking out of the room, leaving Michael shell-shocked on the couch.

Riley was fiddling with one of the cameras in the darkroom when Michael found him again, wrapping his arms around Riley from behind. “…Sorry,” Michael said finally, sounding as though he wished he knew what else to say, “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to upset you.” There was a tentative silence before Michael nudged the side of Riley’s face with the tip of his nose, “We good, boss?”

Riley huffed out a laugh, “’Course we are. We’re always good.”

“Good.” Michael hesitated, his arms tightening slightly around Riley, “…You know you can trust me, right? With anything. And I’ll never see you as anything other than wonderful Riley.” He nudged at Riley again, who laughed quietly.

“I know.” Riley murmured, twisting the camera’s strap in his hands, “It’s just—I can’t… It…”

“Shhh…” Michael soothed, kissing the side of his head, “It’s okay.”

That night, when they were half asleep, Riley rolled over, took a breath and said, “M-my father used to… beat me. When I was younger. Jan wasn’t even born yet. I—my cellular regeneration manifested when I was a toddler or something. I didn’t… I didn’t bruise…” Riley watched Michael’s face as it went through several changes. A flash of deep and devastating anger; a heartbreaking sadness. And love. Always love. “A-anyways, when I went to Hammel, my mother divorced my father and left with Janice. It took me… a really long time to find them again.” He looked up at Michael, “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m—I’m not…”

“I know.” Michael cupped Riley’s face in his hand, “I said before, you’re my wonderful Riley. And I love you.”

Riley smiled, nuzzling Michael’s hand, “I love you too.”

So in a word don't shed a tear
I'll be here when it all gets weird
If I ever leave this world alive

“So, I was thinking.” Michael said one day, shadowing Riley in the kitchen as Riley was baking pie.

“Mm? What were you thinking about?” Riley leaned over and kissed Michael briefly on the cheek before turning to his work.

“Well… I mean… So we’ve been dating for…what? Eight years, almost?” Michael’s smile was uncharacteristically twitchy, “I mean, we’re living together and everything and—and… aw hell.” He knelt down and pulled out a ring from his pocket, “Marry me?”

Riley stared down at him with wide eyes, looking from the ring in his (slightly trembling) hands, to the earnest look of love and good-humor that he loved on Michael so much. Tears clouding his vision, Riley dropped to his knees and kissed the other man soundly, knocking them both over in the process. Michael’s loud laughter filled the room.

“So is that a yes, or should I ask again?” Riley laughed with him, taking the ring and slipping it on his finger. Riley kissed him again, “No. You definitely don’t need to ask again.”

So when in doubt just call my name
Just before you go insane
If I ever leave this world
Hey I may never leave this world
But if I ever leave this world alive

“No.” Riley shook his head frantically, unwilling to even stand in the same room anymore. Michael hopped off the examination table and grabbed his wrist.

“Riley, wait,” Michael implored, his wide eyes looking more than a little scared himself, “Please stay.” And of course Riley would. As if he could do anything else. But he was also falling apart at the seams. He clutched at Michael’s hand, looking up at the doctor, “It—it’s not true. It can’t be. Please…”

The doctor looked apologetic, “I’m so sorry Mr. Adams. But he has stage four lung cancer. The tumor has metastasized, and it’s too big to be operable, but we’re going to start him on chemotherapy.”

“And—and that will make it okay, right?” Riley asked, desperate and pleading. Michael’s hand tightened around his own.

The doctor’s face was creased with sympathy and apology. “I’m afraid not, sir. It…the tumor is such that it’s spread to other parts of the lung. The chemotherapy will only give him a year at best.”

Riley was trembling, tears brimming in his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. This just—it couldn’t. This wasn’t right. Michael was…

“Riley?”

The sound of his name pulled Riley back to himself. He had to be strong. He had to keep it together for Michael. He could do this. He took a deep breath and kissed Michael on the forehead, forcing a brave smile, “It’s okay, Mikey. It’s all gonna be all right.”

Michael gave Riley a quiet, little smile. “I know.”

She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right

“…And so I told Rina that we couldn’t do that because that rock would probably crush us like Indiana Jones or something.” Riley shook his head fondly, “And then, of course, she just started talking about how hot Harrison Ford is. As if I would know!” He laughed slightly, “She’s nuts. She says hi, by the way.”

Riley stood up, a little stiff from sitting in one place for so long. He reached down and brushed some debris off of the little headstone marked “Michael Knowles” and sighed. “I miss you, Mikey. Every day. But… I—I think it’s getting better. Maybe one day I’ll take out the camera again.” He glanced up at the cloudy sky, attention drawn by the little, cold drops of water. “Looks like it’s starting to rain.” Tears pricked the back of his eyes, “What am I supposed to do without my Debbie Reynolds, huh?” He looked back at the headstone with a teary grin, “That’s what we shoulda put on your headstone: Debbie Reynolds. And then when I die, I can put Gene Kelley on mine.” He wiped his eyes, the tears mingling with the rainwater.

“…I’ll be okay, Mikey. Promise.”

She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right
Yeah should be alright…

The Hammel Institute

Chatango

Hammel News and Announcements

Hammel Institute Schedule

Writing Challenge: Not My Story

Post by Admin! on Jul 5, 2011 19:30:00 GMT -5

Post by Joshua Bernstein on Jul 5, 2011 21:19:39 GMT -5

Post by Benjamin Rhodes on Jul 6, 2011 3:36:39 GMT -5

Post by Joshua Bernstein on Jul 6, 2011 20:32:56 GMT -5

Post by Janice Adams on Jul 7, 2011 15:43:50 GMT -5

Post by Zaeric Blackwood on Jul 11, 2011 8:27:05 GMT -5

Post by Dr. Sean Neville on Jul 14, 2011 10:28:40 GMT -5

Post by Jalen August on Jul 18, 2011 16:17:45 GMT -5

Post by Esme Bakus on Jul 24, 2011 9:15:07 GMT -5

Post by Cobalt Weaver on Jul 26, 2011 3:20:39 GMT -5

Quick Reply

Affiliates and Listings

Credits