Slim

I'm really only posting it so that I can show Ali's creator so that I can get some feedback because sdosgos I know NOTHING about Ali's character. No I'm not suicidal or this angsty, nor was I this angsty at the time. I just have very depressive characters (Drusiffer is probably the worst, though) <3 For those who aren't on the down-low, Drusiffer's schizophrenic and Ali has had to pretty much lead him and these two other much-younger boys around in the post-apocolyptic world that Drusiffer was created for, despite the fact that Dru and Ali are about the same age. The leadership really stresses out Ali because responsibility during the apocolypse sucks a lot, and blah blah blah 6 pages of RPing later Drusiffer accidentally shoots Ali (WHOOPS) and has to try and drag her to Dublin to get a doctor. (Dublin is pretty much a safe-haven from all the demonic beasties that have been roaming around the UK, for whatever reason.) So this is him telling Ali that he's going to commit suicide.

DEAR ENGLAND,

THANK YOU FOR COCKNEY ACCENTS, GLOBUS, AND DR WHO.

LOVE CAT <3


I need to go write/draw something deliriously happy now to make up for this, don't I?

LOL BRIDGEPORT BAWW. Half of it is so inside-inside joke that nobody will get it even if they know Bridgeport. WHATEVER I DON'T FEEL LIKE EXPLAININ'.~

~~~~

   When Linus opened the door, the apartment seemed strangely quiet. It had been a long day at work, and he was tired, so it was a welcome hush. The only sound in the apartment was the low background noise from the TV. He couldn’t hear George anywhere— maybe the boy was out and had just forgotten to turn off the television before he left.
   “George?” he called, just in case, as he walked farther into the apartment. He rounded the corner into the living room and saw how dark the room really was. The curtains were mostly drawn, leaving a stripe of dying light across the carpet. Everything was outlined in varying colors by the dim light from the television. George  was sprawled on the couch with a glass held loosely in his grasp. A bottle of red wine was on the end table above his head. Linus always kept a bottle of wine or champagne or something saved for special occasions— things like birthdays and Christmas— but it was always hidden in a back cupboard. George had probably done a bit of searching to be able to find it.
   Linus frowned. “George?” He spoke more quietly this time, but George still didn’t respond for a few moments. He slowly shifted and sat up a little bit straighter, running his fingers through his tangled hair.
   “Oh, Linus,” he muttered, as though he had just realized Linus was there. He tilted the nearly-empty wine glass a little and shrugged halfheartedly. “I, um... I was just...” His voice sounded thick, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. Linus stared at him. George didn’t look back.
   “George, are you okay?” he asked tentatively. Linus dropped his book-bag on the floor by the door and leaned his bike against the wall. He headed over to George and stood next to him, looking at him with concern. George was silent again for a few moments, then shook his head, sniffing back congestion. Linus noticed there were tear streaks on his face, and he carefully lifted up the pillow George was laying on so that he could sit down behind him.
   “What’s wrong, man?” Linus asked quietly. “Here, lemme take that,” he said, pulling the glass out of George’s limp grasp and setting it on the end table.
   George sniffed again and sighed. “What did I do...?” he slurred thickly. “I mean, what did I do to end up getting this kind of crap...?”
   Linus frowned. “What do you mean?”
   “I mean, look at me,” he said weakly, waving his hand and dropping it limply to hang over the side of the couch. “What would anyone give to have what I have! Any teenage guy in the country would give his left nut to be able to do what I can do! If I wanted to, I could look like Brad motherfuckin’ Pitt walking down the street, and girls would be falling all over themselves. I could use just this, this stupid–“ He stopped, sighing again in frustration, “this stupid disease, to get whatever the hell I want from anybody with a little manipulation. But I can’t, it’s not like that. I’m a freak.”
   They had both heard the word tossed around more than the average guy on the street; usually it was being thrown at them with the most malicious intent. Linus had heard it just as often as George had, although George didn’t know, and for that reason he was just as careful not to use it on George as George was not to use it on anybody. Of course, there were some people who were a bit more imaginative and came up with more creative names than “freak”, but for whatever reason, that one word seemed to sting a whole lot more than most. People could be pretty vicious with it.
   “I mean, you get more girls than I do.” George laughed humorlessly. “Why do I have to deal with people all the time? Why am I the one that has to take shit from everybody for being different? Aren’t there enough normal people who are different enough to give and take shit between eachother? Or I mean, for every one like me— if there are any— that has to take it, are there half a dozen other guys that are only sort-of weird who don’t have to...?” He looked up at Linus with red eyes as great big tears rolled down his face while he tried to smile. Linus’s heart broke for the boy. He was able to hide his own weirdness pretty well— he just had to keep his horns trimmed well enough and he was just fine. He had only had to move once or twice because someone had found out. Even George didn’t know.
   “Yeah, that must be it.” He smiled back sympathetically, rubbing George’s head. Linus couldn’t blame him now for getting drunk. He would have to be a little more careful about what he said around George; he wasn’t sure how many of the unkind things he said were really taken to heart. He adjusted the pillow so George could lay down a little bit more.
   “You don’t even get it. You’re just another normal guy. My hair turns bright green every time I sneeze.” George said quietly, folding his arms. He lowered his tone again. “But I mean, it's more than that. A couple years ago... I mean, when I was a little younger... I was in Africa. I don’t even remember why I went. It was just supposed to be some short trip, just a month or so. I ended up getting lost, something– I got caught, by these... these aborigines or something, I don’t know. Some native tribe, they scared the hell out of me. They thought I was a demon or a witch or something...” He pursed his lips and paused a moment to gain his composure. “I was tied to a post in a tent for three years before somebody got me. It was some missionary group or something that got me out, I dunno.. It was a while ago, but even.. I mean, people here, too. People here have it so great, and they still treat eachother like absolute dirt. I mean... why do people have to be so mean?”
   He looked up at Linus again. “I mean, even you get that. Just... the kinds of looks people give you sometimes, just...” he trailed off, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair again.
   “It hurts,” George finished lamely. “Why do people have to be like that, huh?”
   There was a heavy silence between the two. Linus knew that he had really been ragging George an awful lot lately for the joke George had played on him. It had gotten so bad that he didn’t feel comfortable being in the same room alone with George for too long, he was so paranoid. Being as physically close as they were now he would have otherwise thought unbearable, but now he felt awful for even thinking it, let alone actually telling him that.
   Linus carefully slid his hands out from under George’s pillow and reached around to untie his bandana. He hesitated a moment and took a deep breath. He had never shown anyone before, and he was worried as to what George might do. He slid the bandana off and looked down at George, who had wound down and was about to fall asleep.
  “George,” he whispered, rubbing George’s shoulder. George looked up at Linus and studied him for a moment, and Linus smiled, tapping the stumps of his horns.
   “See that?”
   George nodded dumbly, not sure as to what he was looking at.
   “That’s why I keep those hedge clippers here,” Linus said, swallowing. “Trust me, I know how you feel.”

   Linus tucked George in and left him on the couch, figuring that he was probably too spent to get up and go to bed. He put the nearly-empty bottle of wine back in the cupboard and the glass in the sink. He looked at George sleeping on the couch, tucked under a quilt with the tear streaks still on his face. He rubbed George’s head fondly and gently brushed some hair out of his face. George wasn’t a bad kid, really. He deserved a few eccentricities at the very least, didn’t he?

~~~~

Baawww. Overused italics are overused. ANGST.

    Alright, so, the other day I got it in my head to write some Vienna ranting. And this one really doesn't make sense to anyone but me, so I'll have to do some 'splainin':
    Vienna Gittelle has a lot of crap happen to him during his life. He has a fatal genetic disease that's very slowly eating away at his insides, an insane older brother who killed both of Vienna's other brothers, along with their parents, and is trying to kill Vienna. He spent a good portion of his life (including the majority of his childhood and teen years) in an impoverished part of town, and earned his money by stealing at it; he got quite good at it, to say the least. Vienna met a girl some time ago named Jinkoura, and they were good friends for quite a while, and fellow thieves.
    The two of them, along with a fellow friend, Kagai, were able to start The Order of the Black Lily-- an organized group of thieves working together in order to gain greater payoff . His parents' death left him with an enormous inheritance, but he was only able to prove his identity after he had grown up, and he used the money (and a run-down estate formerly belonging to his father) to start the Order. Kagai breaks the rules of the guild and gains the penalty of death, and so Vienna kills him; what Vienna doesn't know is that Kagai and Jinkoura are in love, and engaged.
    Through some crazy crap that we (my friends who've helped me write this story and I) haven't figured out yet... Kagai is resurrected, and ends up completely destroying the Order with lots of bloody fighting between the Order members and Kagai's own group of cronies and the police. He manages to pin all of it on Vienna, who is then thrown in jail, which is where we are now!. Vin has been in love with Jinkoura for a long while-- since before the beginning of the Order-- and finding out that she is engaged to Kagai absolutely breaks his heart. END INTRO.

~~~~

    I kept my eyes tightly closed, trying to force myself back to sleep despite the fact that it was probably three in the afternoon. That was the only good thing about this place; so long as I was injured, they wouldn’t make me work. A bit of reprieve from my own personal hell. If I wasn’t sitting in my nine-by-nine rat hole of a cell, I was out in the field, working my ass off making gravel.  Making gravel was the sort of job you could ever get done if you forced someone to do it against their will. If I wasn’t working, I was either injured or ill and stuck in this horrible infirmary, laid out like an invalid and being eyed by the old nurse that ran the place.
    ...Or I was being visited by Jinkoura.
    I had only been here for three weeks, and she had visited twice. Twice! What was she thinking? Didn’t she know she I didn’t want to see her? Wasn’t she busy with her family or something?
    I hesitated at that thought. That’s where she should be. She had a family now, she should be taking care of them, not visiting her criminal best friend in prison. Of course, I would be lying if I’d said I didn’t enjoy her visits; it was like a breath of fresh air after living in a sewer for my entire life. Of course, one time I had been flat on my back in the infirmary, six hours out of surgery to get a bullet out of my gut and too drugged up on pain killers to be able to see straight. But still.
    The second time (two days ago), just before she’d left, she’d told me she was pregnant.
    Well, that was certainly a kick in the head. I’m not gonna lie; my first thought was That is gonna be one gorgeous kid. Not even My God, woman, how the hell could you do that to me!? or Well, I s’pose it was bound to happen, what with Kagai... being Kagai, and all. Nope. That didn’t come until after, but even before all that, it was Now why couldn’t that kid have been mine?
    Why couldn’t things ever go right for me? I mean, just for once in my life, just once, I’d like to have things go my way for a while. I wish I could just go one week without being punched, kicked, chased, stabbed, shot, or getting too sick to get my pathetic ass out of bed. One blissful week. Fate or God or whatever it is that makes the stars turn– he likes to absolutely spit in my face. I was his practical joke on humanity. One screw up just to show everyone that he still controls everything and that he can do whatever he damn well pleases. All my life, it’s just been one thing after another, again and again and again. Everything good I ever had was always ripped away from me as soon as I began to think that it just might last.
    I sighed. That wasn’t one hundred percent true. I did still have two (relatively) strong hands; strong feet, strong legs, that had carried me for miles and miles and gotten me out of some pretty tight spots. Sure, my blood was tainted (in more ways than one), but there wasn’t much I could do about that, and I’d lived with it since I was a kid, so I’d gotten used to it. I had Ric, the blind boy who had unofficially adopted me. Quite possibly the kindest boy I’d ever met, and the closest thing I would ever have to a son. The unlucky kid that got stuck with me, the worst role-model father-wannabe ever, and still idolized me anyway.
    And I’d met Jin.
    Jinkoura. My best friend for four years, room-mate for three. The best female thief I’d ever seen or heard of. The only person outside of family that I’d ever loved in any “serious-relationship” sort of way. And she had to go and fall in love with my arch-enemy.
    I chuckled; that sounded so corny. “My arch-enemy.” But it was true; we competed in everything. At first it was only as competitive young fools, but later on, it was as hated rivals. Of course I’d had to kill him; he wouldn’t listen to me anymore. He didn’t respect me, not even as an equal, let alone an authority. He wouldn’t follow my rules. It didn’t matter that I killed him, anyway; he just popped right back to life, like a bloody cockroach. All of that was before I even knew they were engaged. It wasn’t even about her.
    But of course, she had to be in love with him, didn’t she? They were engaged behind my back for almost a year, and as soon as I get thrown behind bars, as soon as I can’t do anything to stop them, they get married. I’m not even allowed to go to her wedding. I assure you, when the preacher called if anyone had any reason why they shouldn’t be wedded, I could have raised my hand then and there and given them a very, very long list of why they shouldn’t be wedded.
    What did he have that I didn’t..? I’m stronger, I’m smarter, (now) I’ve got more money! She and I lived together for three bloody years. Three years of taking care of each other, sharing meals, sharing loot, sharing secrets and thoughts and fears and dreams. Three years of getting to know each other. And the next thing I know, she’s dropped me like I didn’t even matter and married him.
    ....Maybe it was the way I look...? I mean, honestly. What girl could love someone with a face like mine? Or, really, it could have just been my blood– why start a family with me? To continue my defective, worthless bloodline?
    Maybe I was arrogant. I only thought I was better than him, but I wasn’t. Maybe she didn’t want to be sidled with an invalid once we grew older. Maybe she didn’t like the threat of my murderous brother. Maybe it was because I’m not human or whatever it is that she is..?
    I suddenly realized that there were tears in my eyes. Now, I’ll tell you right here, I’m not the weepy type. I don’t cry over spilled milk, scraped knees, or even deaths (provided the person isn’t family). I’m not some girl to go sobbing or fainting at the first sign of trouble. I’ve had to spend my entire life learning to be strong, and breaking down and crying is not strength. If I took the time to get upset over all the dumb shit that’s happened to me, deserved or not, it would probably kill me. But I had been hurt. Deeply, horribly hurt. I’d had my heart ripped out and stomped on, then sewn right back in so that it didn’t seem like anything was wrong. I wasn’t okay. I don’t care what they say about big boys not crying, she’d hurt me, and I cried a long, long time.
    Someday, I thought, as soon as I get out, I’m gonna take all that inheritance money and buy me a big-ass house, with a whole bunch of servants and crap, and fill the cellar with the most expensive wine I can find. I’mna buy a bunch of fancy-ass, expensive clothes, and go around to parties and marry some rich woman and not even invite her or her goddamned husband.
    The absurdity of it was almost enough to make me laugh.

OH GOSH LOOK EVERYONE

-flails and points-

I'm totally gay for my  website again. I had a lot of code frustration/headache to get it updated the way I wanted to, but it looks really great now! I'm so proud. I'm going to be adding graphics SOONER OR LATER, so wish me luck with THAT.

IF ONLY SOMEONE WOULD GIVE US A DOMAIN NAME. D8 It's kinda sucky having a subdomain, but whatever. I love FE right now. <3

Wow guys. Just wow.

Yesterday I actually went to Hobby Lobby and got myself the cheapest chunk of Super Sculpey I could find, and I am gosh darned glad that I did. I also got some tools for working with it, but I never really used them. BUT I'm proud of myself; several times I've tried doing art in a new medium and it turned out like crap, but this time... well, it's not exactly Rembrandt, but it was tons of fun to make. And thus, I must share the beauty of my creation.

It's a tiny model of The Terrible Monster. Isn't he horrifying? In every photo he is sitting on my scanner, and from head to toes he's about 1 7/8" (almost 5cm) high and 2 3/16" (about 5 1/2cm) with his hat on.



No, that's not a chinchilla hiding under his coat next to him, it's his little removable hat! This angle shows a great view of his crappy paint job and little stickhands. <3


A blurry photo of his floppy, fluffy, spotty ears. :D There is his little hat to his right. He has a very large collar, which only proves that he is evil to the bone.




The same photo, only with less blur and more inexplicable red tint. The blur in the last photo was my fault, but the red glow is all my evil camera. How it did this, I have no idea. It makes little Monty look extra evil, though, so my camera is forgiven. Although you cannot even see his hat. D:



Here he is with his hat, still staring at that apple. He is either contemplating the meaning of life, or that apple is about to come to a very untimely demise.~

I'm sure any of you sculpey veterans are absolutely laughing your socks off right now at you pathetic my little lad is, what with his permanent fingerprint texture and cheap and crappy water-based paint job, but I love him all the same. I shall certainly need to do this again, considering the large volume of Super Sculpey I bought. I'll first see if I can find some glaze for this little fella to make him more glossy and shiny.~

BURGLARS BEWARE. THE TERRIBLE MONSTER NOW GUARDS MY ROOM.

Yes, I know the title has nothing to do with anything. Shuttup.

HAY GUYZ.

I have a shamelessly plugged website now, and I'm gosh darned proud of it. I did a lot of the coding, and although we've still got a long way to go on it, it's shaping up right nicely. I'm hoping to get some more art up there soon, and I'm working on getting the 'Current Projects' section done real soon. It makes me gleeful that I'm FINALLY getting all my storylines and characters all organized and in one place for all y'all to see.

ALSO, my next entry will almost definitely be another art spamdump, including at least one of the elusive pen-doodle. Because that's all I have to do other than play Me & My Katamari since all my friends either don't get online or have ditched me to go to Otakon. And I've also had a recent urge to write music with the amazing Sonic Sight, because his music is awesome and he's a great guy with great talent, and you need to shower him with love and praise.

dumpysaurus NEEDS TO GET TO NAGGING. <3

THIS JOURNAL IS FULL OF SHAMELESS PLUGGING <3

JOIN THE GOOD SHIP REVOLUTION TODAY
:D Hehee, I'm so psyched about it. I use this journal for essentially nothing but writing, but DOGGONE IT, I HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE ANARCHIST REVOLUTION. It's a fictional pirate roleplay (Yeah, you can shut up) because, since everyone's so giddy over Pirates 3 (and because pirates are just so awesome anyway), we oughta make use of said giddy-ness and make some awesome out of it. See LadyDragona's DA Journal for details.~

~Cat

Well, after seeing my best friend's LJ (http://shadizilla.livejournal.com/), I decided it might be a good idea to get one myself. And, well, since everyone on DA obviously never read my journal, I guess I'll just start writing on here and see if anybody stumbles onto my page.

I'll spend this space mostly for doing random story blurbs, but I'll start off with some character bios. Next post coming soon.

-Slim