Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Red Pt. 3
“Oh William!” Grell shattered the silence.
“What is it now, Grell?” William looked at him, already bored with their conversation.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to go out after work,” he plopped down on William’s desk.
“No.” William didn’t even look up.
“Please?” He begged.
“No.” He looked up at Grell, not wanting to play this game.
“C’mon, Will. I’m sure someone who works as hard as you would be entitled to a break-- even if it is with Grell.” I chimed in.
“If I go out with you now will you stop bothering me later?” He pushed his glasses up.
“Yes! We just have to go now!” Grell grabbed William’s hand and pulled him out of the dispatch.
“Finally,” I smirked.
Quickly I pulled the door to his office shut and ran out. Over the past few weeks I had been forming a plan. And when I went and visited Earl Phantomhive, I knew my plan had to be carried out. It was hard to keep it from Sebastian, but if he knew then he’d stop me. This plan took a long time, first just letters to his fiance, Lizzie, so I could start wedging myself into his life. Then I wrote letters to him, explaining that my father was interested in doing business with him, but not wanting to seem too eager about it.
After a while he had become interested in the idea of doing business with my father. And then I told him that I was planning on making a trip to dear London, and that I hoped he would let me stay with him. Now, weeks later, my said visit to the fabulous London was underway and I was supposed to arrive at his manor in two hours.
The hardest part of this whole thing would be tricking Sebastian. He’d be able to spot me miles away. And now I had to act like I was a whole other person. So far I had described my family like Lizzie’s. I’m pretty sure he expected pink frills and curly hair. But as a reaper, the idea of wearing pink made me sick. And leaving William made me feel even worse. Although he’s overprotective, he’s my only family.
I reached our home and wrote him a note, somehow leaving the note made it feel less bad. Carefully I folded it and left it in sight. Quickly I changed into one of the gowns that I had picked out for this, I pulled my trunk together and pulled it outside where the Undertaker was waiting for me.
“Are you ready?” He giggled.
“Yes,” I sighed, pulling the trunk up into the carriage.
“You look so cute,” He smirked, helping me get into the carriage.
“Shut up,” I sighed, not wanting to be a joke of his.
“I’m so surprised that you’re actually going through with this.” He pulled his bangs up, looking at me.
“I need to, it’s not an option anymore,” I sighed, fixing the heavy skirt.
“You started the process, there must be a way to stop it,” he shrugged, closing the door.
“What is it now, Grell?” William looked at him, already bored with their conversation.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to go out after work,” he plopped down on William’s desk.
“No.” William didn’t even look up.
“Please?” He begged.
“No.” He looked up at Grell, not wanting to play this game.
“C’mon, Will. I’m sure someone who works as hard as you would be entitled to a break-- even if it is with Grell.” I chimed in.
“If I go out with you now will you stop bothering me later?” He pushed his glasses up.
“Yes! We just have to go now!” Grell grabbed William’s hand and pulled him out of the dispatch.
“Finally,” I smirked.
Quickly I pulled the door to his office shut and ran out. Over the past few weeks I had been forming a plan. And when I went and visited Earl Phantomhive, I knew my plan had to be carried out. It was hard to keep it from Sebastian, but if he knew then he’d stop me. This plan took a long time, first just letters to his fiance, Lizzie, so I could start wedging myself into his life. Then I wrote letters to him, explaining that my father was interested in doing business with him, but not wanting to seem too eager about it.
After a while he had become interested in the idea of doing business with my father. And then I told him that I was planning on making a trip to dear London, and that I hoped he would let me stay with him. Now, weeks later, my said visit to the fabulous London was underway and I was supposed to arrive at his manor in two hours.
The hardest part of this whole thing would be tricking Sebastian. He’d be able to spot me miles away. And now I had to act like I was a whole other person. So far I had described my family like Lizzie’s. I’m pretty sure he expected pink frills and curly hair. But as a reaper, the idea of wearing pink made me sick. And leaving William made me feel even worse. Although he’s overprotective, he’s my only family.
I reached our home and wrote him a note, somehow leaving the note made it feel less bad. Carefully I folded it and left it in sight. Quickly I changed into one of the gowns that I had picked out for this, I pulled my trunk together and pulled it outside where the Undertaker was waiting for me.
“Are you ready?” He giggled.
“Yes,” I sighed, pulling the trunk up into the carriage.
“You look so cute,” He smirked, helping me get into the carriage.
“Shut up,” I sighed, not wanting to be a joke of his.
“I’m so surprised that you’re actually going through with this.” He pulled his bangs up, looking at me.
“I need to, it’s not an option anymore,” I sighed, fixing the heavy skirt.
“You started the process, there must be a way to stop it,” he shrugged, closing the door.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Metal Wasteland
Frey's P.O.V.
"You did a kind of rotten thing there, Frey." Ember said.
"I know, I know," I sighed.
"Why did you do it?" He asked.
"Because the Wasteland isn't a place for Roxie, and it really isn't a place for Onyx," I thought.
"You still didn't have the right to sell them out. They could get thrown in jail now," he pointed out.
"They're not going to be thrown in jail if he's their uncle," I defended.
"You still shouldn't have sold them out. It's not their fault that they're parent less and alone," Ember crossed his arms.
"I was just worried, okay? That sort of Hell isn't for them, they deserve to be somewhere better," I shrugged.
"But they were surviving, and now, who knows what'll happen to them," he pushed the subject.
Omega walked down the stairs, her eyes filled with anger. Quickly she made her way over to me.
"Hey Ome--" I started.
"I'm not talking to you," she snapped.
"What do you need?" Ember asked her.
"Just coming to get some stuff out of the medicine cabinet." She looked at the ground.
"There's a cabinet up--"
"And then I saw you talking to nothing and I decided to come here and take a break from work." She smiled slightly.
"Don't ignore your other brother, it makes him feel bad." Ember smirked.
"It does n--" I started again.
"Shut up!" She slapped me.
Ember started laughing, Omega left my cheek stinging.
"Okay, okay, okay," Ember laughed. "C'mon, go back upstairs."
Omega stormed out, hiding the pain from the harsh hit.
"Perfect timing," Ember tried to hide his smile.
"I hope it made her feel better," I shrugged.
"I'm kind of surprised that you were just going to let her," he shrugged.
"I didn't see it coming," I shook my head.
"Fix that, you're an inventor, there's gotta be something you can do to look into the future," he nodded.
"Why are you so weird?" I asked.
"Don't ask me," Ember shrugged.
"Whatever, I want to go out and check on something," I sighed, grabbing my jacket.
"What is this something?" Ember asked.
"I'm sure you'll find out sooner or later," I smirked, pulling on my jacket.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Metal Wasteland
Onyx's P.O.V.
"What are we doing here, Roxy?" I asked, looking out of the huge window.
"Do you really not know what's going on?" She looked at me with tired eyes.
"No, not really," I confessed.
"You know how when you were growing up... You know how mom and dad weren't there?" She sighed.
"You always said they'd come back.." I looked at my hands.
"Well, mom and dad died... They're not coming back... But you know how protective the Mayor got?" She pulled my chin back up.
"Yeah?" I guessed.
"He's mom's brother," Roxie told me.
"Oh..." It made some sense but not a lot.
"And now, since that jerk Frey decided to tell him everything, we now live here," she continued.
"Can I tell you something?" I asked.
"Sure," she said tiredly.
"I don't think Frey was being a jerk, I think he was just trying to protect you.. And me by default." I told her.
"Maybe that is what he was trying to do, but it still wasn't necessary." Roxie shook her head.
"But it's what he felt he should do," I pointed out.
"You're growing up way too fast," She sighed, fixing my hair out of nervousness.
"I know.." I looked down again. "Do you think we'll be okay?"
"We're going to be just fine, okay?" She pulled my chin up.
"But what if it isn't?" I asked.
"I'll be here until the very end to protect you."
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Point Of View Piece
I sat quietly, looking around.
“Good luck!” Norma tossed a ballot in my direction.
As I overlooked the list of pairs, a sick shock hit me.
“Tommy, we’re on here!”
“Yeah, I saw that,” He nodded. “The school votes for a single candidates and their dates get sort of shanghaied into it. Welcome aboard. Shall we decline?”
I bit my lip, unsure of what to answer with. I looked at him, “Do you want to decline?”
“Hell no,” He laughed. “If you win all you do is sit up there for the school song and one dance and wave a scepter and look like a ******* idiot. They take your picture for the yearbook so everyone can see you looked like a ******* idiot.”
“Who do we vote for?” I asked quietly, doubtful of any choice I was about to make. “They’re more your crowd than mine. In fact, I don’t really have a crowd.”
“Let’s vote for ourselves,” He shrugged. “To the devil with false modesty.”
I to muffle my laughter with my hand. Rarely had I heard my own laughter, before I could stop myself I circled our names. Suddenly the pencil I was using snapped. Quickly I realized that it had scratch my finger, and that now I was bleeding.
“You hurt yourself?” Tommy asked.
“No,” I smiled. “But I broke the pencil and it was a souvenir. Stupid me.”
It was difficult to smile. The blood was so distasteful, carefully I blotted it with a napkin.
“There’s your boat,” Tommy tried to lighten the conversation. “Toot, toot!”
He pushed one of the decoration boats toward me. I was sure I was going to cry and feel ashamed. Quickly I looked at my lap so Tommy wouldn’t see the tears that were bubbling up. The band was playing nonsense music, something to distract everyone while the ballots were collected. My hand searched for Tommy’s. Carefully he slid his hand into mine and held it tightly.
A feeling of shame overwhelmed me, no one would vote for us. Tommy mumbled something, but all I could hear was “We’ve got a tie.” Again people wrote down the couples they favored. Quickly I realized that we were one of the couples that had tied.
“They weren’t applauding for us,” I shook my head. “It couldn’t have been for us.”
“Maybe it was for you,” Tommy said seriously, taking the broken pencil from my hand.
“Don’t...” I touched his wrist lightly.
“What?”
“Don’t vote for us,” I said.
“Why not?” He asked quizzically. “In for a penny, in for a pound. That’s what my mother always says.”
Instantly I imagined my mother, crying endless prayers to a faceless God. Instantly I was filled with terror, but I tried my best to hold it back. I couldn’t explain why it scared me so much, all I could do was smile and beg. “Don’t. Please.”
He hesitated, this options flickered in his eyes. Quickly he wrote Tommy and Carrie on his slip and handed it to whoever was collecting the papers.
“For you,” He said. “Tonight you go first-class.”
Carrie watched from a distance as the ballots were counted three times. Vic Mooney marched up to the mic, looking like he was in disbelief.
“Tommy and Carrie win. By one vote.”
Tommy squeezed my hand, grinning. Both bands started playing the school anthem, everyone stood and sang along. I felt something cold hit my skin-- Something that sent a spine chilling shock through me. I knew it was going to happen before it did. Blood poured, draping me in a layer of red.
Momma was right. They were making fun of me. Another prank.-- Another time I was the joke. The memories of every time I had been the joke rushed back to me. It was all too much.
“My God, that’s blood!” Someone screamed.
Another scream followed, one of the buckets clanged onto Tommy’s head. Someone laughed, everyone laughed. My eyes opened wide, peering out among the people. My hands reached up to my face, feeling all of the blood. I staggered to my feet and jumped off the stage. Miss Desjardin ran toward me with outstretched arms-- But in an instant she was flung against the wall.
Quickly I ran through the crowd, covering my face with my hands. Someone decided to add to my pain by tripping me. I skid across the floor like a rag doll, leaving a trail of blood (That wasn’t my own) behind me. Carefully I stood up and left the gym, I ran as fast as I could down the stairs, my heart was racing. As fast as I could I ran across the school’s lawn, losing my shoes in the process. Suddenly I fell down, tears running down my face.
I walked to the Carlin Street Congregational Church where I sat down and prayed. My heart raced, my breathing was jagged. Behind ,e everything was falling, pews, hymnals and a Communion set. I stood up and left, finding this useless. Flex. The light poles popped and sparks flew. Wires fell to the ground and the town started to smell of burning people. A few people had touched the wires and now were dead. This was getting tiring, I turned and walked home.
“Good luck!” Norma tossed a ballot in my direction.
As I overlooked the list of pairs, a sick shock hit me.
“Tommy, we’re on here!”
“Yeah, I saw that,” He nodded. “The school votes for a single candidates and their dates get sort of shanghaied into it. Welcome aboard. Shall we decline?”
I bit my lip, unsure of what to answer with. I looked at him, “Do you want to decline?”
“Hell no,” He laughed. “If you win all you do is sit up there for the school song and one dance and wave a scepter and look like a ******* idiot. They take your picture for the yearbook so everyone can see you looked like a ******* idiot.”
“Who do we vote for?” I asked quietly, doubtful of any choice I was about to make. “They’re more your crowd than mine. In fact, I don’t really have a crowd.”
“Let’s vote for ourselves,” He shrugged. “To the devil with false modesty.”
I to muffle my laughter with my hand. Rarely had I heard my own laughter, before I could stop myself I circled our names. Suddenly the pencil I was using snapped. Quickly I realized that it had scratch my finger, and that now I was bleeding.
“You hurt yourself?” Tommy asked.
“No,” I smiled. “But I broke the pencil and it was a souvenir. Stupid me.”
It was difficult to smile. The blood was so distasteful, carefully I blotted it with a napkin.
“There’s your boat,” Tommy tried to lighten the conversation. “Toot, toot!”
He pushed one of the decoration boats toward me. I was sure I was going to cry and feel ashamed. Quickly I looked at my lap so Tommy wouldn’t see the tears that were bubbling up. The band was playing nonsense music, something to distract everyone while the ballots were collected. My hand searched for Tommy’s. Carefully he slid his hand into mine and held it tightly.
A feeling of shame overwhelmed me, no one would vote for us. Tommy mumbled something, but all I could hear was “We’ve got a tie.” Again people wrote down the couples they favored. Quickly I realized that we were one of the couples that had tied.
“They weren’t applauding for us,” I shook my head. “It couldn’t have been for us.”
“Maybe it was for you,” Tommy said seriously, taking the broken pencil from my hand.
“Don’t...” I touched his wrist lightly.
“What?”
“Don’t vote for us,” I said.
“Why not?” He asked quizzically. “In for a penny, in for a pound. That’s what my mother always says.”
Instantly I imagined my mother, crying endless prayers to a faceless God. Instantly I was filled with terror, but I tried my best to hold it back. I couldn’t explain why it scared me so much, all I could do was smile and beg. “Don’t. Please.”
He hesitated, this options flickered in his eyes. Quickly he wrote Tommy and Carrie on his slip and handed it to whoever was collecting the papers.
“For you,” He said. “Tonight you go first-class.”
Carrie watched from a distance as the ballots were counted three times. Vic Mooney marched up to the mic, looking like he was in disbelief.
“Tommy and Carrie win. By one vote.”
Silence followed, everyone looked at each other, waiting for the “Just kidding!”. After a few seconds past-- After everyone realized that Carrie White was their prom queen.-- Everyone clapped, nothing satiric either. Real applause, for her. My heart raced with something like pride. The band started to play some version of “Pomp and Circumstance,” ushers appeared and pulled us down an aisle.
The ushers sat us down on two “Thrones” that were placed on the stage. Everything was happening so fast, and suddenly, I felt exposed. Everything was spinning, I actually think this is a dream.
“The King and Queen of the 1979 Spring Ball-- Tommy ROSS and Carrie WHITE!” Vic boomed out.Tommy squeezed my hand, grinning. Both bands started playing the school anthem, everyone stood and sang along. I felt something cold hit my skin-- Something that sent a spine chilling shock through me. I knew it was going to happen before it did. Blood poured, draping me in a layer of red.
Momma was right. They were making fun of me. Another prank.-- Another time I was the joke. The memories of every time I had been the joke rushed back to me. It was all too much.
“My God, that’s blood!” Someone screamed.
Another scream followed, one of the buckets clanged onto Tommy’s head. Someone laughed, everyone laughed. My eyes opened wide, peering out among the people. My hands reached up to my face, feeling all of the blood. I staggered to my feet and jumped off the stage. Miss Desjardin ran toward me with outstretched arms-- But in an instant she was flung against the wall.
Quickly I ran through the crowd, covering my face with my hands. Someone decided to add to my pain by tripping me. I skid across the floor like a rag doll, leaving a trail of blood (That wasn’t my own) behind me. Carefully I stood up and left the gym, I ran as fast as I could down the stairs, my heart was racing. As fast as I could I ran across the school’s lawn, losing my shoes in the process. Suddenly I fell down, tears running down my face.
My options ran through my head, soon enough I would stand up and go back home. But what would that do? Momma would just tell her that she had been right all along, and then she’d probably be sent to the closet. No. I couldn’t let that happen.-- I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the stars.
It was time to teach them a lesson. I giggled hysterically and got up, walking barefoot to towards the lobby doors. Once I got there I realized that it was vacant. Halfway up the stairs I flexed, closing the doors. I could feel the pressure of the people pushing against the doors. They were trapped.
As I looked up I noticed the sprinklers.
Fire laws of course-- fire laws reminded me of the black power cords that were thrown around the stage. Perfect. I reached with my mind, up to the sprinklers and flex. Inside the gym it had started to rain.-- I smirked. A boy grabbed the microphone and then stood there, transfixed. The boy was going through a motionless dance of electricity. This was hilarious.
Without flinching I yanked those black power cords. A few lights puffed out, bright lights wherever the cords had hit water. The boy fell onto an amp, leading a chain of events that ended in crepe paper starting on fire. Another girl on the stage lit on fire. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed, I sat down on the step and tried to clear my mind. People had started pounding against the doors again, but it wasn’t difficult to keep them shut.
Quickly I stood up and left the school, keeping the doors closed. It was a whole lot easier than you’re probably thinking. All I had to do was imagine the doors. A whistle went off.-- I cringed and screamed, losing the image of the doors. No! As soon as I had stopped picturing them I realized my mistake. Instantly I snapped back to remembering them. This time someone’s fingers had gotten crushed in the doors. I laughed.
This was the moment I realized the fire department would probably try to put out my fire. Cute. I looked at the fire hydrant, focusing. Slowly but surely the lug nuts holding it shut started twisting off. Suddenly water shot out of the hydrant. I rubbed my hands on my dress, trying to remove the blood. Without realizing it I kept walking forward, smiling, crying, and laughing all at once.
I walked to the Carlin Street Congregational Church where I sat down and prayed. My heart raced, my breathing was jagged. Behind ,e everything was falling, pews, hymnals and a Communion set. I stood up and left, finding this useless. Flex. The light poles popped and sparks flew. Wires fell to the ground and the town started to smell of burning people. A few people had touched the wires and now were dead. This was getting tiring, I turned and walked home.
If Carrie had been written by Carrie’s point of view we would’ve seen a teenager with a Jesus crazed mother who really just wants to be accepted by her fellow classmates. If Carrie had been written from Chris’s point of view we would’ve seen a girl who was sick of seeing this kiddish act from someone who’s her age. But if Carrie was written from Miss Desjardin’s point of view we would’ve seen a teacher who just wants to help a poor girl who’s constantly tormented by her classmates.
The prom scene would’ve been traumatic for Carrie’s view, hilarious from Chris’s view, and mean from Miss Desjardin’s point of view. The killing would’ve been right from Carrie’s view, and an overreaction from Chris’s view. Chris’s actions in the beginning of the book would’ve been harmless if she was the one talking. But in Carrie’s point of view it was horrible, mostly because she thought she was dying.
Red Pt. 2
Ciel Phantomhive sits in his study alone, trying to not get upset after his maid tripped down the stairs (Thus breaking the dishes she was carrying). I was waiting for Lord Earl Phantomhive’s butler to answer the door. For a long time this young man had been of some curiosity to me, and his connection with the underground world of London made him even more interesting to me.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, Esther,” Sebastian said to me.
Sebastian and I had known each other for a few years. Usually Reapers don’t become friends with races like Sebastian, but William didn’t like him, and I found it amusing to make William angry.
“It’s fine, Sebastian. Raising a boy in this situation can’t be easy,” I shrugged.
Ciel’s parents had been brutally murdered when he was just a little boy. He then became a test subject, quickly though he made a contract with Sebastian.
“Especially with this staff..” He sighed, leading me into the manor.
“What good does a blind maid do for you?” I asked, noting the thick lenses that the maid was wearing.
“Oh she’s not blind, just quite farsighted.” Sebastian informed.
“Still..” I mumbled. “Why even try to give her glasses if they don’t do anything?”
“She also happens to be quite clumsy,” Sebastian told me, hearing my comment.
“So she hasn’t had any previous experience?” I assumed.
“You never fail to read the things I don’t say,” Sebastian smirked.
“It’s a habit,” I smiled.
“Well, please do excuse my Young Master’s capricious attitude at the moment,” Sebastian sighed, turning the attention back to why I came here in the first place.
“I have to deal with Grell, don’t I?” I pointed out.
Although the two never seem alike they really are the same. Both came and do have instant mood changes, Grell tends to be more platonic though.
“Very true,” Sebastian smirked and knocked on Ciel’s study door.
“Come in,” Ciel’s monotone voice rang out.
“Young Master, Esther Spears has come to discuss business,” Sebastian opened the door, leading me in.
“I’m surprised that William didn’t tag along to make sure you stay safe,” Ciel taunted.
Even at his high ranking he was still a child.
“My brother has no need to protect me, and remember that at any moment I have no problem taking your soul,” I pulled out my dagger and pointed it at him, completely serious.
“Just a dagger? All the others have some sort of insane machine they made themselves,” Ciel said, sounding somewhat surprised.
“I wanted something that I wouldn’t get questioned for carrying around, unlike Grell’s free use of his chainsaw..” I sighed.
“He calls it a chainsaw? How charming,” Ciel laughed fakily. “What business do we have together?”
“Well, that’s just it. See, you’re in the underground world of London, you’re the queen’s watchdog. And when there’s a threat to her majesty, you get rid of it, correct?” I asked
“Correct,” Ciel had no idea where I was going.
“You’ve been killing the souls that I need to collect, so I’ll ask you politely to stop killing them.” I smiled as nicely as it could, it killed me to ask him for help but I had to.
“Well, maybe you should be collecting these souls earlier.” Ciel crossed his legs, not in a negotiating mood.
“I have to collect them at a specific time at a specific date and I can’t just let you change that,” I looked at him.
“Any threat to the queen I eliminate, that’s how this works. A--” He started.
“Stop. You can’t keep doing this, this is my job. You have the Funtom company, but all I have is collecting souls. Stay in what you know.” I bent down to his level, looking him in the eye.
“But--” He started again, somewhat fearful this time.
“That eyepatch you wear is so cute. I’d hate to see it discarded because of an accident.” I walked out of the room, negotiating in the way Reapers negotiated.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, Esther,” Sebastian said to me.
Sebastian and I had known each other for a few years. Usually Reapers don’t become friends with races like Sebastian, but William didn’t like him, and I found it amusing to make William angry.
“It’s fine, Sebastian. Raising a boy in this situation can’t be easy,” I shrugged.
Ciel’s parents had been brutally murdered when he was just a little boy. He then became a test subject, quickly though he made a contract with Sebastian.
“Especially with this staff..” He sighed, leading me into the manor.
“What good does a blind maid do for you?” I asked, noting the thick lenses that the maid was wearing.
“Oh she’s not blind, just quite farsighted.” Sebastian informed.
“Still..” I mumbled. “Why even try to give her glasses if they don’t do anything?”
“She also happens to be quite clumsy,” Sebastian told me, hearing my comment.
“So she hasn’t had any previous experience?” I assumed.
“You never fail to read the things I don’t say,” Sebastian smirked.
“It’s a habit,” I smiled.
“Well, please do excuse my Young Master’s capricious attitude at the moment,” Sebastian sighed, turning the attention back to why I came here in the first place.
“I have to deal with Grell, don’t I?” I pointed out.
Although the two never seem alike they really are the same. Both came and do have instant mood changes, Grell tends to be more platonic though.
“Very true,” Sebastian smirked and knocked on Ciel’s study door.
“Come in,” Ciel’s monotone voice rang out.
“Young Master, Esther Spears has come to discuss business,” Sebastian opened the door, leading me in.
“I’m surprised that William didn’t tag along to make sure you stay safe,” Ciel taunted.
Even at his high ranking he was still a child.
“My brother has no need to protect me, and remember that at any moment I have no problem taking your soul,” I pulled out my dagger and pointed it at him, completely serious.
“Just a dagger? All the others have some sort of insane machine they made themselves,” Ciel said, sounding somewhat surprised.
“I wanted something that I wouldn’t get questioned for carrying around, unlike Grell’s free use of his chainsaw..” I sighed.
“He calls it a chainsaw? How charming,” Ciel laughed fakily. “What business do we have together?”
“Well, that’s just it. See, you’re in the underground world of London, you’re the queen’s watchdog. And when there’s a threat to her majesty, you get rid of it, correct?” I asked
“Correct,” Ciel had no idea where I was going.
“You’ve been killing the souls that I need to collect, so I’ll ask you politely to stop killing them.” I smiled as nicely as it could, it killed me to ask him for help but I had to.
“Well, maybe you should be collecting these souls earlier.” Ciel crossed his legs, not in a negotiating mood.
“I have to collect them at a specific time at a specific date and I can’t just let you change that,” I looked at him.
“Any threat to the queen I eliminate, that’s how this works. A--” He started.
“Stop. You can’t keep doing this, this is my job. You have the Funtom company, but all I have is collecting souls. Stay in what you know.” I bent down to his level, looking him in the eye.
“But--” He started again, somewhat fearful this time.
“That eyepatch you wear is so cute. I’d hate to see it discarded because of an accident.” I walked out of the room, negotiating in the way Reapers negotiated.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Dies Irae
“No more. You need to promise,” He looked at me, completely serious.
“You know I need to kill people to live, right?” I crossed my arms.
“Why do you have to be such a difficult child?” He asked.
“Why do you have to be such a difficult adult?” I mocked.
“I’m sorry Mercy but you need to adjust.” He pulled the keys out of the ignition.
“So do you Sid.” I opened my door and got out.
On one of the days when we first started living together he explained some things to me. At the age of 26 he still acts like a kid, when he was 24 he had gotten married. Just two months after they were married, his new bride died in a car accident. And technically they had started the adoption process before they were married.
If anything I kept him together, I made sure he kept getting off his computer and that he’d keep taking breaks from work. He mostly wore jeans and white tees, he had brown hair and green eyes. It was unique and it matched his personality. He was like an older brother.
“Did you make any friends?” He abandoned the past conversation by the time he joined me in the dining room.
“I should ask you the same thing,” I rolled my eyes, pulling out a thick purple journal.
“Just answer the question,” He sighed.
“Well, there’s this girl who thinks I’m a diary.” I thought of the best way to describe Bec.
“I qualify that as a friend,” He put his hands up, not going to fight anything.
“But I don’t like her back,” I shrugged, finding a pen.
“Don’t be stubborn.” He pushed me lightly.
“You should take that advice yourself,” I nodded, this was a daily thing we did.
“Oh shut up,” He picked me up, something that A) Was easy for him to do, and B) Something I hated.
“Put me down!” I struggled.
“Stop being a nerd then,” He smirked.
“I have zero problem with biting you,” I threatened.
“No biting,” He put me down.
“I have no problem with it,” I shrugged, feeling the point of my right fang.
“You promised that you wouldn’t bite me.” He pointed out, something that I clearly remember doing.
I had promised that the moment he found out.
“Yeah yeah,” I crossed my arms.
The memory reel of when I carelessly walked through the house flossing; how perfectly Sid came out at the exact moment that I was perfectly showing my fangs.
“You know I need to kill people to live, right?” I crossed my arms.
“Why do you have to be such a difficult child?” He asked.
“Why do you have to be such a difficult adult?” I mocked.
“I’m sorry Mercy but you need to adjust.” He pulled the keys out of the ignition.
“So do you Sid.” I opened my door and got out.
On one of the days when we first started living together he explained some things to me. At the age of 26 he still acts like a kid, when he was 24 he had gotten married. Just two months after they were married, his new bride died in a car accident. And technically they had started the adoption process before they were married.
If anything I kept him together, I made sure he kept getting off his computer and that he’d keep taking breaks from work. He mostly wore jeans and white tees, he had brown hair and green eyes. It was unique and it matched his personality. He was like an older brother.
“Did you make any friends?” He abandoned the past conversation by the time he joined me in the dining room.
“I should ask you the same thing,” I rolled my eyes, pulling out a thick purple journal.
“Just answer the question,” He sighed.
“Well, there’s this girl who thinks I’m a diary.” I thought of the best way to describe Bec.
“I qualify that as a friend,” He put his hands up, not going to fight anything.
“But I don’t like her back,” I shrugged, finding a pen.
“Don’t be stubborn.” He pushed me lightly.
“You should take that advice yourself,” I nodded, this was a daily thing we did.
“Oh shut up,” He picked me up, something that A) Was easy for him to do, and B) Something I hated.
“Put me down!” I struggled.
“Stop being a nerd then,” He smirked.
“I have zero problem with biting you,” I threatened.
“No biting,” He put me down.
“I have no problem with it,” I shrugged, feeling the point of my right fang.
“You promised that you wouldn’t bite me.” He pointed out, something that I clearly remember doing.
I had promised that the moment he found out.
“Yeah yeah,” I crossed my arms.
The memory reel of when I carelessly walked through the house flossing; how perfectly Sid came out at the exact moment that I was perfectly showing my fangs.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Cirque Du Araignee - Act 3
Alice pulls up her sleeves exposing red arms
Red red arms
Wonderland proves to be a sick home
Sick sick home
Time stays in place while she’s in Wonderland
And it will never move
A tick echos through her head
Over and over
Again and again
Alice feels her heart beat heavily and wearily
As she’s submerged under water
It hurts her to breathe
But she’ll keep breathing
The White Rabbit is stained red with Alice’s blood
And The Mad Hatter gains his sanity
All all alone
Alice finds herself floating back home
Alice leaves Wonderland in a cold
Dead
Body
All all alone
Alice will never return
Red red arms
Wonderland proves to be a sick home
Sick sick home
Time stays in place while she’s in Wonderland
And it will never move
A tick echos through her head
Over and over
Again and again
Alice feels her heart beat heavily and wearily
As she’s submerged under water
It hurts her to breathe
But she’ll keep breathing
The White Rabbit is stained red with Alice’s blood
And The Mad Hatter gains his sanity
All all alone
Alice finds herself floating back home
Alice leaves Wonderland in a cold
Dead
Body
All all alone
Alice will never return
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Cirque Du Araignee - Act 2
Welcome to a place of Horror.
A place with spiders, black as night.
A place with razor sharp teeth.
That sink in deep.
Screams echo like laughter.
Fear replaces happiness.
Welcome to a place of horror.
Where in all reality you have no clue where you are.
No matter how much you grasp.
No matter how much you beg.
No matter how much you cry.
It won’t get you out.
But realize it’s worthless.
That no matter what you do.
You’re stuck.
And there’s not a chance that you’ll get out.
Do you want it?
Do you need it?
Let me hear it.
Are you bleeding?
In no time you will be.
Do you want it?
Do you need it?
Let me hear it.
A place with spiders, black as night.
A place with razor sharp teeth.
That sink in deep.
Screams echo like laughter.
Fear replaces happiness.
Welcome to a place of horror.
Where in all reality you have no clue where you are.
No matter how much you grasp.
No matter how much you beg.
No matter how much you cry.
It won’t get you out.
But realize it’s worthless.
That no matter what you do.
You’re stuck.
And there’s not a chance that you’ll get out.
Do you want it?
Do you need it?
Let me hear it.
Are you bleeding?
In no time you will be.
Do you want it?
Do you need it?
Let me hear it.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Red Pt.1
London is a cold place during the winter. I thought as I walked through the empty streets.
“Is this where you’ve been all night?” A familiar voice rang out.
Oh great...
“What do you want?” I stopped walking, waiting to see what he’d say.
“William’s been looking for you all night, Essie.” Grell sighed.
“I’ve been putting in overtime,” I protested, pushing my glasses up.
“You’re not supposed to though,” Grell smirked.
“What do you want?” I turned around to face Grell.
“William’s been worried all night long, it’s so cute to see brotherly love!” Grell sighed dreamily.
God he was weird.
“I had souls to collect.” I started.
“Hm, cute.” Grell stepped toward me, his long red hair was pulled up into a ponytail.
“Trying to flirt with my brother, I see.” I crossed my arms, Grell’s crush on my brother was amusing.
“Oh shush,” He blushed, loving the attention. “Now come along, you’re worrying William.”
Grell was never this proper around me. Us Reapers are much more modern than everyone else here in 1888.
“Fine.” I walked with Grell.
“So you were really looking for souls?” Grell asked, he was always curious.
“Yes.” I said.
“Hm, well then.” Grell huffed.
Grell looked me over, his golden eyes flashed. God I hate him... No, I hate his eyes. I hate all Reaper eyes. Reapers have golden eyes-- well, all of them do, except for me. For some reason I was born with cerulean eyes instead of golden eyes. Lucky for me, Reapers wear glasses, thus I wear black shades. Something I had to make myself since the crafters who make glasses couldn’t make these for me.
For a long time I had gotten made fun of for my eye color, but with the glasses people eventually forgot my eye color. I pushed the shades up, feeling worse about my eye color. It was still an insecurity.
“There you two are,” William appeared, pushing his glasses up with his scythe.
“Hey Will.” I said blankly, not looking at him.
“Esther, you need to get back to the dispatch at the end of the day,” William blocked my path.
“I can watch out for myself, thanks.” I jumped up and over him.
“I know you want to be independant but I can’t have you out in London at this hour,” He looked at me, not as a supervisor, but as a brother.
“God William, just pull out the guilt card?” I smirked.
“Esther, I know you’re having a hard time without mom or dad or grandpa, but you have to stop this. You’re going to get hurt one of these days.” He pulled my chin up so I was looking him in the eye.
Why did I have to be so short? Even Grell was taller than me, and he’s as red as a fire. Seriously.
“I’m not a child anymore, William.” I pushed his hand away.
“You act like it though,” He adjusted his glasses.
“Mature people don’t call others children,” I smirked.
William had raised me, so I was using what he taught me against him. At a young age my parents had been killed, for a long time we lived with our grandfather who recently died.
“Don’t argue.” He said sternly.
“You’re not my parent though, William,” I continued walking.
“But I take that role since neither of our parents are here,” He caught up to me.
“Oh stop fighting, you two!” Grell walked in between us, bothered by our pointless argument.
“Okay, okay, okay. I’m sorry,” William sighed.
“That’s nice,” I played with my dagger.
“Essie...” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh look at the time! I must be going, you know, souls to reap, people to stalk,” I shrugged, jumping up and acrobating my way to a roof.
“Esther!” William tried to make me stay.
“Oh William, let’s go back to the dispatch,” Grell grabbed William’s hand and sprinted along the street.
One of those moments where I overlook Grell’s insignificant babble and actually appreciate his existence was one of these moments. Quietly I walked along the rooftop of some home, none of the people here in London were aware of us unless they were apart of a specific underground society that was run by a specific thirteen year old earl.
“Is this where you’ve been all night?” A familiar voice rang out.
Oh great...
“What do you want?” I stopped walking, waiting to see what he’d say.
“William’s been looking for you all night, Essie.” Grell sighed.
“I’ve been putting in overtime,” I protested, pushing my glasses up.
“You’re not supposed to though,” Grell smirked.
“What do you want?” I turned around to face Grell.
“William’s been worried all night long, it’s so cute to see brotherly love!” Grell sighed dreamily.
God he was weird.
“I had souls to collect.” I started.
“Hm, cute.” Grell stepped toward me, his long red hair was pulled up into a ponytail.
“Trying to flirt with my brother, I see.” I crossed my arms, Grell’s crush on my brother was amusing.
“Oh shush,” He blushed, loving the attention. “Now come along, you’re worrying William.”
Grell was never this proper around me. Us Reapers are much more modern than everyone else here in 1888.
“Fine.” I walked with Grell.
“So you were really looking for souls?” Grell asked, he was always curious.
“Yes.” I said.
“Hm, well then.” Grell huffed.
Grell looked me over, his golden eyes flashed. God I hate him... No, I hate his eyes. I hate all Reaper eyes. Reapers have golden eyes-- well, all of them do, except for me. For some reason I was born with cerulean eyes instead of golden eyes. Lucky for me, Reapers wear glasses, thus I wear black shades. Something I had to make myself since the crafters who make glasses couldn’t make these for me.
For a long time I had gotten made fun of for my eye color, but with the glasses people eventually forgot my eye color. I pushed the shades up, feeling worse about my eye color. It was still an insecurity.
“There you two are,” William appeared, pushing his glasses up with his scythe.
“Hey Will.” I said blankly, not looking at him.
“Esther, you need to get back to the dispatch at the end of the day,” William blocked my path.
“I can watch out for myself, thanks.” I jumped up and over him.
“I know you want to be independant but I can’t have you out in London at this hour,” He looked at me, not as a supervisor, but as a brother.
“God William, just pull out the guilt card?” I smirked.
“Esther, I know you’re having a hard time without mom or dad or grandpa, but you have to stop this. You’re going to get hurt one of these days.” He pulled my chin up so I was looking him in the eye.
Why did I have to be so short? Even Grell was taller than me, and he’s as red as a fire. Seriously.
“I’m not a child anymore, William.” I pushed his hand away.
“You act like it though,” He adjusted his glasses.
“Mature people don’t call others children,” I smirked.
William had raised me, so I was using what he taught me against him. At a young age my parents had been killed, for a long time we lived with our grandfather who recently died.
“Don’t argue.” He said sternly.
“You’re not my parent though, William,” I continued walking.
“But I take that role since neither of our parents are here,” He caught up to me.
“Oh stop fighting, you two!” Grell walked in between us, bothered by our pointless argument.
“Okay, okay, okay. I’m sorry,” William sighed.
“That’s nice,” I played with my dagger.
“Essie...” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh look at the time! I must be going, you know, souls to reap, people to stalk,” I shrugged, jumping up and acrobating my way to a roof.
“Esther!” William tried to make me stay.
“Oh William, let’s go back to the dispatch,” Grell grabbed William’s hand and sprinted along the street.
One of those moments where I overlook Grell’s insignificant babble and actually appreciate his existence was one of these moments. Quietly I walked along the rooftop of some home, none of the people here in London were aware of us unless they were apart of a specific underground society that was run by a specific thirteen year old earl.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
In a couple of day's I'll post a new story that I've been writing for a few weeks now, I just want to edit it a little bit more before I post it, but here's a preview:
What’s with society? Okay, let me be more clear-- what’s with my society? I’m Whitney, just Whitney. Where I’m from we don’t label ourselves with last names because that means we’re related to someone. No, in my world we’re separated by gender. We’re not allowed to know who we’re related to and if we do fall in love then we’re evacuated. Well, that’s what we’ve been told anyway.
Personally I’m not that interested. Right now I find myself in the showers. Forty three women stand in the stalls. None of us were uncomfortable with walking around naked. This is how our life has been and we’re used to it. Little girls ran across the tiled floor, older women gossipped.
I know that isn't much but from then on it's a ton of dialogue and so many characters that you need to wait and see!!
What’s with society? Okay, let me be more clear-- what’s with my society? I’m Whitney, just Whitney. Where I’m from we don’t label ourselves with last names because that means we’re related to someone. No, in my world we’re separated by gender. We’re not allowed to know who we’re related to and if we do fall in love then we’re evacuated. Well, that’s what we’ve been told anyway.
Personally I’m not that interested. Right now I find myself in the showers. Forty three women stand in the stalls. None of us were uncomfortable with walking around naked. This is how our life has been and we’re used to it. Little girls ran across the tiled floor, older women gossipped.
I know that isn't much but from then on it's a ton of dialogue and so many characters that you need to wait and see!!
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Update
Now that we're back from break I have updates
Over the entire break I wrote a story (Thanks to Tumblr) that I have no idea how to feel about. I keep re reading it then editing it, adding things here taking things away there. It's difficult but I really like the feel of the story, now here's the tricky part. It's 14 (So far) pages long and it's one of those stories that you have to read at once.
None of this half here half there, it's a once I finish it it's going to be really long and too long for a blog story. So I'm contemplating putting it on here because I don't know if I should or what you guys would think of it. It's kind of dark and very sad. So I'm not sure how everyone would feel about it.
I apologize if I don't update my previous stories much, life is occupying most of my thinking right now but I'm trying to make time for you guys because you all rock
So yeah
Over the entire break I wrote a story (Thanks to Tumblr) that I have no idea how to feel about. I keep re reading it then editing it, adding things here taking things away there. It's difficult but I really like the feel of the story, now here's the tricky part. It's 14 (So far) pages long and it's one of those stories that you have to read at once.
None of this half here half there, it's a once I finish it it's going to be really long and too long for a blog story. So I'm contemplating putting it on here because I don't know if I should or what you guys would think of it. It's kind of dark and very sad. So I'm not sure how everyone would feel about it.
I apologize if I don't update my previous stories much, life is occupying most of my thinking right now but I'm trying to make time for you guys because you all rock
So yeah
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