Yeah well that’s that I guess.
Kinda running out of content but I changed tacts recently I decided if I just wasn’t feeling Kur 2 I wouldn’t continue until I was in the mood for it and just to write something else for fun until I was up to it.
I mean there’s no point in writing more Kur if I think it’s garbage or my hearts not in it so I’ve just been working on other stuff, which will be a really shit surprise for thursday haha.
So don’t hold your breath for that. Most of my time and energy is going towards finding a new job and getting out of this shitty country and being with my daughter. Writing is on the back burner until that in the works.
Probably gonna do a Captain Marvel review because I pirated it last night and I hated it but I’m not sure I have enough to say about it because it was such a nothing burger of a film. Even by marvel standards it was just bleh, completely formless and pointless with some of the most cringe dialogue ever written. I kind of had to force myself to believe it was made by people and not an algorithm.
Anyway gotta get to proofreading that new shitty stuff I was writing instead of Kur for thursday and of course flooding barbados with my cv haha.
ExT. in space above the planet. day
We return to Rico as he falls in and out of consciousness
towards the planet in his damaged pod.
RICO! YOU’RE A SITTING DUCK KID!
YOU NEED TO BREAK AWAY FROM YOUR POD OR THEY’LL PICK UP YOUR HEAT
RICO CAN YOU HEAR ME?
Rico is barely conscious as he’s falling getting faster. He wakes up and inhales and muscle memory starts to kick in and he engages the servos in his power armor.
YOU HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL YOU PASS THE ATMOSPHERE OR YOU’LL BURN UP!
RICO CAN YOU HEAR ME?
The pod is entering the atmosphere and its rough, it’s hot and parts of the pod are coming off.
He clears the outer atmosphere and starts into free fall. He starts to kick his way out of his pod. The huge desert planet getting larger and coming faster at him as he falls.
Power armor voice
Proximity alert! Proximity alert!
Rico flips a release to break away the last layer of the egg pod.
The first charge pops all the straps and then the outer shell.
Now he’s actually falling, nothing separating him from the outside world, just his suit and falling with the air under his feet.
POWER ARMOR VOICE (
Brace for impact!
He looks around the terrain and sees enemies firing on his pod. Scanning the terrain he straightens up his fall into a
and then pops his first shoot and is yanked up into the air out of the sight of the enemy snipers.
He disengages the first shoot and tries to engage the second but it was damaged during the fall.
PoWER ARMOR VOICE (
Proximity alert! Brace for impact.
He falls through the roof of an alien building of some sort.
RICO, IF YOU’RE ALIVE AND CAN HEAR THIS, SCAN MY BEACON.
Enemy soldiers surround the building.
A light inside Rico’s helmet lights up his face, blood trickling down it from a head wound.
A sudden quick shape shoots from the roof of the building and in it’s wake it leaves behind a bomb.
The bomb explodes dispatching the area.
My shoot malfunctioned, snoopers say I’m on the wrong side of the river.
I have your beacon locked.
On my way to you.
son, you had me worried.
Don’t lag behind.
The explosion in the warehouse he blows up goes off again igniting some ignitable substance and knocking Rico off balance.
He squares up and keeps moving.
Rico looks at device that allows him to see the formation of his squad.
ACE REDRESS YOUR LINE
Rico, so you’re alive.
Rico hops the river in his power suit and makes his way to a sweet spot he picked out, a grouping of buildings on a hills he was planning to hit.
Rico loads and cocks a rocket launcher from his back.
ACE STRAIGHTEN UP I SAID!
PLATOON, BY LEAPFROG! FORWARD!
BY LEAPFROG! ODD NUMBERS! ADVANCE!
Rico lines of up his rocket launcher pulling the first trigger to lock and then the second trigger decimating what could be a temple or a palace.
SECOND SECTION, EVEN NUMBERS
Rico jumps clear of the building.
His power suit allows him to jump the next row of buildings as he advances.
With his free hand he uses a hand flamer to burn the buildings as he passes.
He fires another set of
bombs from the Y rack on his shoulders but passes too quickly to see their effect, just bathed in the light of the explosions against the night sky.
An enemy comes out of the building Rico is approaching they see
ODD NUMBERS ADVANCE!
Rico flames him and jumps over the building he’s coming out of.
But he’s distracted by having to act so fast and he poorly times his jump coming up too high and too wide leaving him exposed.
He attracts the attention of a group of enemies and comes down badly on the roof of a factory covered in pipes and wires.
He jumps again scattering a cluster bomb to keep them busy.
SECOND SECTION! EVEN NUMBERS
Rico sees something in the distance and gets a high vantage point to activate his snoopers. His gear is firing their payloads automatically now as he lands after each jump. He sees some sort of large building in the distance which he thinks could be their waterworks.
JOHNNY! RED! START BENDING IN THE FLANKS!
Rico activates his beacon.
SECOND SECTION CURVE IN!
SQUAD LEADER ACKNOWLEDGE!
Already on it, pick up your feet.
The home defences start to rally and Rico narrowly dodges a missile fired at him, rattling his teeth.
Then a beam is fired overhead and he stops frozen.
He jumps frantically trying to keep moving and get out of that spot landing in a crowd of enemies firing his flamer in a wide fast burst.
He moves on but his Y rack has run out of bombs and he stops to reload it with the last of his
bombs and check his position.
He flips his snoopers up to scan the battle field for something substantial to hit with his last two A rockets.
He fires off into the distance there are a series of unidentified explosions above so Rico decides not to risk a jump.
He takes out a beam knife and cuts through the buildings instead cutting and blasting through the buildings.
Rico unintentionally breaks into a huge room full of aliens. There’s a pause as neither knows how to react.
It seems to be full of civilians taking shelter but one scared skinny takes a shot at him, hitting his armor.
Rico is rattled and jumps for cover instinctively leaving them behind a little present.
The bomb he throws
in their own language.
I am a thirty second bomb!
Twenty nine seconds,
Rico doesn’t stick around he jumps through the roof of the building and gets a bearing on his formation.
CIRCLE IS CLOSED, BUT THE BEACON ISN’T DOWN YET.
MOVE UP SLOWLY, MILL AROUND.
CAUSE A LITTLE MORE TROUBLE!
GOOD JOB SO FAR.
DON’T SPOIL IT
PLATOON! BY SECTIONS…
A skinny pokes his head around a corner and Rico throws a bomb at him.
SECOND SECTION, CALL OFF!
ACE, WHERE’S DIZZY?
NUMBER SIX, CALL OFF!
SIXTH SQUAD, FLORES MISSING
SQUAD LEADER OUT FOR PICK UP!
ONE MAN ABSENT.
FLORES SQUAD SIX.
MISSING OR DEAD?
I DON’T KNOW, ME AND ACE ARE DROPPING OUT FOR PICK UP.
LET ACE HANDLE IT.
The pick up beacon is sounding but he turns off his
RICO DO YOU READ? RICO!
HEADS UP! CLOSE TO RETRIEVAL.
ON THE BOUNCE!
RETRIEVAL BEACON’S VOICE
“- To the everlasting glory of the
, shines the name, shines the name of the Rodger Young!”
Rico hears the sound but is heading in the opposite direction.
Ace you got her beacon?
I got her, I don’t need you, go back.
I got you by eye now, where is she?
Right ahead of me, maybe a quarter mile/ I said go back, she’s my man.
Rico isn’t listening he’s closing in on Ace.
He finds Ace standing over Dizzy who’s downed in her suit, a couple of dead
Ace turns to see Rico.
I told you I didn’t need you.
Is she hurt?
I can’t tell,
take her helmet off?
Where is it?
Rico takes his helmet off to get a better look at her.
It’s over there, don’t touch it. It’s covered in something weird.
Rico goes up to her to check if she’s
, can you hear me?
Help me get her out of her armor, we’ll carry her to pick up
They disconnect her from her suit but something’s wrong, she’s comatose and mumbling to herself.
What’s she saying?
let’s get her
They attempt to lift her but she start seizing and flailing like her body isn’t her own and she reaches for her side arm and shoots Rico in the eye.
Yeah so I had a work thing on thursday and when I got home I felt like shit and didn’t want to do anything, hence no content haha.
Which is fine because the only person I let down is myself as always.
I decided just to call them ‘parts’ instead of scenes because the scenes are so short some of them I just decided to lump them together.
This scene specifically is displaying the incongruities between the book and the movie. Because in the movie he’s dating Carmen and they break up and there’s this love square going on. But in the book they’re more like acquaintances and they go on one date later on. They’re not in love, the book isn’t about love, Diz isn’t even a character in the book, he’s just a guy who dies in the first chapter haha.
So there’s no love triangle, there’s no square, there isn’t even a love line or a love circle haha.
And although I’m sort of super autistic about romances, I don’t know how to write a good romance and although I think including romance in your story is sort of played out, I really do think it’s necessary and I appreciate a good romance in a story. As long as it’s not tacky or too over the top.
Like for instance the romance in the expanse is handled really well. There are two romances one between a cop and a girl he knows is dead. And another between the two main characters which I really like. Because in shows like this you either get these shitty ‘will they won’t they’ romances where they constantly dangle a romance and never deliver or deliver at the end. Or they have the romance and it has rocky patches here and there and what not and it seems like it’s going for the later but so far I like it. It’s nice, not too in your face or over the top and I think one of the reasons I might be having feelings for my ex is that Naomi really reminds me of her. I know it’s really stupid.
A good example of a shitty over the top romance is probably between Geralt and Yenniffer in the witcher books. Because their romance is like built up to be this epic, world altering romance but in every other part of the book they’re just two people that are kind of asshole and hate eachother haha. Yennifer is probably one of the least likeable characters of all the books and Geralt is sort of a nothing character, he’s just an audience insert. So the romance is really wooden but you’re meant to believe it’s shakespeare because of how it’s built up, but it’s just cringe. As you can tell I’m team Triss haha.
Yeah so I included the romance but sort of left a little more to the imagination. I elevated the non-romance in the book and brought the romance down a notch from the movie. So it’s like a sliding scale of narrative romance the lowest being no romance going up to ‘will they won’t they’ to the highest ‘oh they did and it fucked up’ haha.
I didn’t watch a film this week or have anything worth reviewing, just been in a miasma of work and videogames and hating life. I barely managed to get a chapter done this week. Which is shameful considering I could average a chapter a day at one point. I dunno, my mind is just on trying to find a new job and be with the people most important to me right now. I’m sort of shelving writing but I can’t actually stop so I’m just keeping my pen moving.
But I can’t complain really, well I can and I will but you know.
Well that’s enough for today. I will have a chapter of Cur done by thursday for all those masses of no people that read this.
INT. Rico parents house. Day.
You’re going to
, not throwing your life away like this.
It’s my life, my decision, not yours! I’m going!
You’re going on vacation and that’s the last of it. You’ll resign, it’ll look bad but it’s better than wasting your life.
I wont quit! I wanna be a citizen!
If you walk out of that door you’re cut off, do you understand me?
Rico walks off, his mother takes him by the arm,
Johnny does citizenship really mean that much to you?
RiCO’S MOM (
No one in mine or your fathers family has ever had citizenship and look at us, the nice house we live, the life we live.
(Hesitantly) Yeah, I guess.
I hope you’re not ruining your life over some silly little girl who wants you to look handsome putting on a uniform.
It’s not – it’s not like that. I can’t explain it. I just – I just need to get out on my own.
Rico walks off to the station with his bags packed.
ExT. A pARK. DAY
Johnny and Carmen are enjoying a day at the park when a weird blue light fills the atmosphere. The ground shakes and rocks start to float in the air as everything around them is decimated.
INT. ROGER YOUNG SPACE SHIP.
Rico is in a darkened room in the ship looking down at the earth through a huge window as it’s destroyed by a giant blue plasma meteorite. He watches the earth turning black and dying.
INT. Karl’s house. Night.
Rico wakes up in a cold sweat from his dream staying the night at Karls house to escape his parents.
He goes to get a drink of water and stares up into space at all the stars.
EXT. Outside the transit hub on terra. Day.
Karl, Johnny and Carmen are meeting up to say their final
before they set off on their tour of service.
I’m wearing everything I own?
I told you your dad wouldn’t go for it.
Thanks for letting me stay at your place last night.
What are friends for?
Johnny, I’m sorry.
It’s fine, the federation will give me everything I need for the next two years right?
So Karl did you get
I don’t know yet, they said I need to undergo more tests in an off site facility, whatever that means. But a little birdie tells me
is heading off to the fleet academy.
A little birdie
Carmen, that’s great.
What about you Johnnie?
Yeah tough guy what did you even put down as preference?
Hey that’s personal
and I don’t know either, they need to run more tests too, I guess.
. I guess this is it.
Hey, let’s make a pact
? Let’s promise
what happens that we’ll always be friends.
Well we’ll probably be in
galaxies light years away from
but sure why not?
That’s the spirit.
Anyway my transport is leaving soon so I gotta go.
Bye for now.
See ya soon buddy.
Good luck Karl
My transport is leaving soon too
I’ll see you off, help you with your luggage.
Rico helps her with her bags as she goes to the terminal.
Are you sure, you might be late to your shuttle?
Yeah of course.
She leads him off towards her shuttle platform.
I couldn’t let you go without a proper goodbye.
A ‘proper goodbye’.
He puts her bags down.
Well you know.
He takes her and kisses her.
I love you.
She boards the shuttle still looking at him.
You can say it too.
The shuttle pulls away and jets off into space leaving Rico staring at his own reflection as there’s nothing but darkness there now.
Been a kinda meh week, writing wise specifically, I couldn’t seem to get into the groove until yesterday really. I just sort of muddled through it a little bit not quite sir where I was going but it’s getting there, it’s taking shape.
Specifically in part two I started getting into it and feeling the story a bit more. I think the plot overall is pretty good, you have like an A plot and a B plot and then they progress separately and then intertwine and come together at the end. I think this one might be better received because there’s a lot more stuff happening and maybe it’s more or less convoluted than the first one haha. More characters more villains, tonnes more villains.
Remember this was meant to be two books so it has as many boss battles as a fucking videogame haha. Villains coming out of my ears, I ripped one right out of a lovecraft story while I was writing the synopsis so you know he’s racist! No, he’s a weird zombie thing, his personal opinions on the other races will not be divulged. Although I have a sneaking suspicion he hates fish people but so do most people in this book.
Come to think of it this whole series is about literal race wars, in fact most fantasy books are, jesus fantasy is racist haha.
But I still have a fair bit to proof read, I’ll clean up a lot of it there but I’m happy the direction it’s going, we’ll just have to wait and see. Now here’s more of this fill- I mean great content from Diana in the dark again but better.
Whatever the esoteric message of the photocopy meant, I didn’t have enough time to make any sense of it.
A tight popping cracking noise of a microphone being tapped and tested sounded, then a nasally voice filled the whole room. “Folks, can I have your attention please?” Principle Maria Petro said. She stood looking down from the balcony, dressed a little like a character from the fifth element in a leopard print onesie?
Cat suit? What are those called? It actually fit with the neon space jungle theme.
She was a short stodgy woman with a nest of badly dyed hair that resembled ramen noodles. She stood under what looked like a brightly-lit star gate or arch, her hair done up as high as it would go.
Thankfully it was a high ceiling, without any fans or low hanging lights. Her face was a perfect mask of confidence and years of stored up aggression from dealing with the most spoiled kids on earth. All the make up in the world couldn’t cover up those frown lines.
“Ahem, good evening, everybody, I hope you’re all having a great time.” Pause for effect. Looking down at her subjects, expecting an answer or maybe an uproarious applause. Ms. Petro cleared her throat and continued on without it. “It’s my pleasure to announce this year’s senior prom queen and king.”
I made my way back over to Paul, strategically elbowing people in their solar plexuses. Solar plexi? Swimming through the crowd, only spilling about half the contents of each cup on other people’s rented shoes. I handed him one.
“Thanks.” He smiled for a moment, then stood bolt upright and his eyes got a little wider.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Don’t say shit!” a coiled voice hissed.
“No, it’s the fucking tooth fairy!”
“What are you?” Paul asked looking over his shoulder, but keeping his neck stiff.
Wendy stepped out of his large shadow and poked him in the side with that deadly DG purse, her hand inside it.
I imagined not clasped around her lip gloss. Her hair was coming undone, rogue strands now sticking in places to her patchy fake tan, running from the sweat.
“Brodie stood me up!” she said, shooting me a glare like it was my fault. “They’re about to announce it now, and the queen needs a king, got it?” She spat through her expensive bridgework. “So I’m just gonna borrow yours, you got a problem with that?”
“Err…” I said, eloquent as ever.
“It’s okay, it’s cool,” Paul said as he tried his best not to look as stiff as Frankenstein’s monster with a hand up his ass.
“Walk.” Wendy was still glaring at me.
Paul seemed as if he was resisting the urge to raise his hands like a hostage and started to pad slowly toward the balcony stairs.
There was no direct access to the stage.
Wendy poked him through a set of doors, and they disappeared—hopefully to reappear on the other side of the star gate in one piece. There was an awfully long pause and silence that followed.
“I’m happy to announce—” Principle Petro unsealed a sparkly envelope, very glamorous. She unsheathed a gold piece of card. “This years prom king and queen are…” Sudden sounds of a scuffle could be heard behind her, then a dull pop and another before a shrill scream.
The room froze trying to recognize the din.
Wendy burst out onto the stage, the small pistol in her hand. A ruby red stream of blood flowed from an obviously broken nose.
Paul was nowhere to be seen.
“Gimme that!” She snatched the studded prom queen tiara from Principle Petro’s hand, and shoved the woman out of the way. She tried to pin it to her head with the gun still in her hand. Once it was level, she scanned the room of all the faces still frozen in stunned silence.
Her existence was now a morbid curiosity, a downward spiral, a car crash happening in slow motion.
She saw me looking up at her. Part of me wondering if Paul was still alive, but the other was distinctly darker, and couldn’t keep my smirk at bay. Here I was, a peasant in the crowd watching a debutante fall face first in the mud, and I couldn’t stop the muscles in my face tensing into something like a smile.
“Fucking bitch! This is all your fault!” Wendy screamed and aimed the small weapon. She started firing wildly into the crowd I happened to be mingled in. The tiara drooped down and tangled in her hair as she cried.
Luckily this was probably her first school shooting, in her hands that little pistol was about as deadly as a spud gun and there was just far too much confusion to hit anyone in particular.
The crowd predictably woke from their frozen morbidity, erupting into a flurry of fight or flight lizard brain comprehension. They stampeded toward the nearest exit. Climbed all over each other so as not to become the lucky recipient of a nine millimeter kiss blown from a killer queen.
My first instinct, unlike that of a mere prey species, was not to fight or to flight but to hide and wait. Watch and see. I told myself I couldn’t leave without knowing what happened to Paul. He wouldn’t abandon me, and I couldn’t let my mask slip off completely without at least trying to save face. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I just ran and melted into the maddening crowd of lurching farm animals, leaving him to bleed to death?
The exits were currently expurgating a constant stream of furious humanity. The true meaning of an ancient Roman vomitorium now fully realized. Another fortuitous exit was marked out for me with a sign above the alcove that read, “The glow zone.”
I broke from the herd and darted for the exit, looking up to make sure she noticed I was distinct from the throng. She cursed in Spanish and fired a warning shot over the bow of the balcony, missing and chipping the horsehead ice sculptor. “Go Trojans!”
Wendy banged the guard rail of the balcony and disappeared into the back.
I pushed past a door with a porthole in it; it flapped shut behind me like a saloon door, screeching loud.
In the laser arcade equipment room, racks of laser tag sets hung from multi-colored racks glowing with the magic of LED. An instructional video on game safety was playing in a loop. A middle aged Hispanic man with a shaved head and set of terminator sunglasses appeared on screen, instructing me on how to safely clip on one of the vests in a succinct monotone.
Thanks but no thanks, a glowing piece of plastic on my chest wouldn’t do me much good in a gun fight.
Never bring a glowing plastic laser gun to a gunfight, Diana.
Don’t have much to go off today but here’s the latest chapter, it’s slow going honestly, I’m not as focused as I was before. I dunno I think my writing at one point was getting better but now I sort of think it’s getting worse haha. Not worse, just lazier I guess.
I was reading Conan last night and the story was sort of garbage, Conan goes to steal a thing finds ancient aliens and then the tower falls down the end but it had a lot of flair and it was fun and the description isn’t over the top a lot of it just plot but you get a good feel like you’re really there seeing what he’s seeing and I’m not sure you get that from what I’m writing.
But you know, I hope it’s fun at least, there’s some action in this chapter, after the sort of slow start, this new character who I sort of borrowed from Arthurian legend is a lot of fun, I just had to steal him. He’s one of these characters like Cur that takes on several mantles because in these mythological stories there’s a limit to how much stuff a certain character can do. This wasn’t marvel where you have a billion writers taking one character and stretching them across a million books of total nonsense where they fight alongside the jackson five or whatever. Total bullshit where comics are basically fanfiction where spiderman is a transgender midget polynesian hemophiliac diaper fur with glocoma.
They’re more like real life where a person does one awesome thing their whole life and maybe not even that. So I sort of had to take Cur and make a plot by combining him with a few different characters because otherwise his story would have ended after the first battle. And I sort of created my own meta universe where he was supposed to die but he didn’t creating a new time line.
Anyway, that’s enough nonsense ranting, I promised myself I would try to find a new job today. I keep thinking about starting up a youtube channel but I just couldn’t do that, my autism wouldn’t allow it. I just don’t think it would do well and I want a real job where I can be around people a couple of hours a day. I know I hate people and my autism makes me want to lock myself away infinitely but I think I need to be around people every now and then just so I don’t forget how to talk haha.
South of Meenlaragh in Corveen bog the ruins of a small castle lay overgrown by the marsh. Creeping vines covered it like a fur coat as it seemed to sink into the murk.
The sun was slowly sinking into the bog, the light bluing with the strange mists that hovered over the peat and muck. The sounds of birds in the trees were thick and deafening in their splendour. But deep in the hold of the castle there was a stolen warmth and a cloaked merriment.
In the keep a small group of strangely dressed brigands sat around a broken feast table strewn with unappetizing foreign dishes. Fish heads in sea brine, boiled toad, all manner of eels and snakes from the bog writhed in states of death and half-life, insects too seemed to be on the menu.
The feast hall was small and decrepit and dark, only a few sconces were lit, others seemed to be long burnt out or ripped from the walls. All decorations and finery the castle once had were undoubtedly pilfered long ago. All that remained were tattered moth eaten tapestries and a few decorative weapons caked in decades of rust. All but one item seemed unloved and aged. On the wall behind the head of the table hung a decorative harp made of finely hewn wood and encrusted with beautiful shining gems. The carvings on the harp were intricate and spiralled all around the finely crafted instrument. Images engraven were that of various animals and a horned man sitting amongst them.
The brigands feasted under black hoods and armoured cloaks. Their hands were more clawlike than human shining dimly with what seemed like scales and other malformed oddities. Their mouths clacking as they ate as some lacked teeth while others had sharp thin shark teeth shining like daggers in the dim fire light.
Suddenly an odd noise tickled them as if it had been there all along under the sounds of their merriment but only now had they noticed it. A strange whistling like that of many birds singing together but not coming from outside.
The head of the table flipped his cloak and stretched out a scaled humanoid arm. At the end of it were fat toadlike fingers forming something almost like a fin, he held it up to silence the others at the table.
They froze and turned to a darkened corner which seemed to be the source of the strange bird noise. Then came the sound of clinking metal and shaking of chain.
Out of the darkness emerged a huge humanoid figure dressed in a green armour. He had a distinctive covered helmet of which large antlers that looked like tree branches grew out of the top. On his belt hung an ornate axe. It’s handle appeared to be simply a strong birch branch holding a piece of silvery metal which had raw edges. It shone like that of a stone that fell from the sky glinting like a diamond or a quartz in the sconce light. In his hand the knight carried a bow of holly and he whistled as he walked creating an unnerving sound as if thousands of birds filled the room.
“Who goes there?” The head of the table called out. A slender dark figure with a sly hushed voice.
“Fear not, child of the dark depths, I mean you no harm”
The head of the table was confused but sneered when he heard what the stranger called him. “How do you come to know us?” He questioned.
The knight bowed humbly “Forgive me sir, for I have watched you and your countenance speaks to foreign blood, not of this soil.”
“Our blood is older than this soil.” The host spat.
“That too I am aware of, therefore we are the same sir.” The strange green knight bowed again crossing the holly in front of his plated chest.
The head of the table was an alien figure, with bulbous black fishy eyes and glinting scaled skin and a wide mouth full of sharp tiny teeth. “Well then, come sit with us and tell us why you have come visitor.” The man grinned and then scowled at his underling who sat at his side. The underling was a squat creature with huge whiskered lips and wide slanted slits for eyes. He looked up at his master startled and then quickly vacated his seat and pulled it out for the knight.
The knight rose from his bow “Most hospitable of you.” The knight said as he slowly walked around the table. Passing the other inhuman malformed creatures that sat staring up at the stranger with their wide fish eyes.
The knight sat upon the chair and waited for his host to speak. Closer to the light of the table the knight’s armor was more apparent. An unusual set that shone an emerald green with gold inlays and patterns that seemed to replicate trees and roots forming spiral symbols.
“So what is it you seek stranger?”
“I would that you would know me that I would not be a considered a stranger. My name Bertilak de Hautdesert but you may know me as ‘Bredbeddle’ if you so wish.”
The host breathed heavily and spoke through his teeth “Goodly Bredbeddle, wouldst that you would tell me why you’ve come, that I would know you!”
“I find it odd you don’t remember me.” The knight chuckled “For am I not memorable?”
“Should I remember you, have we met before?” The strange head of the table asked.
“I am certain sir, we have met before, in this very room no less.” The knight gestured as he spoke, his armor clinking but displaying no weight as he moved. “Are you not the one they call Forgal the wily?”
“You must be mistaken, I’ve never heard that name before” The host said as he turned to one of his men and signalled for him to bring them more wine.
“One year ago today, we met in this room and struck a bargain.”
“I recall no such bargain, what does this pertain to?” The host asked.
“But you will admit that you are Forgal the wily?” The knight turned his head up and pointed over his hosts head without raising his elbow. “For you have the harp he took from me”.
“Are you calling me a thief?”
“Nay sir, I am calling you the possessor of my harp and one year ago today we struck a bargain.”
“What of this nonsense, what bargain?”
“The bargain made here that I would let you strike me and one year after I would return the strike and reclaim the harp.”
“I tire of this foolishness” The host waved his hand and instantly out of the dark came a curved long blade and cut the knights head from his shoulders.
The helmet with the head fell on the table and knocked over a bowl of live crickets.
The group of brigands erupted into triumphant laughter, all conspiring in whispers as to whom would claim his armor and weapon.
“Fool!” The host spat. “Forgal the wily recognises no bargains made with the tuatha.”
“There is no need for name calling sir” A disembodied voice said.
The brigands instantly stopped their cavorting as the voice seemed to come from all around them. It seemed animal in aspect, as if the birds in the trees were forming words of their own.
The body of the knight had not fallen, still it sat upright in it’s seat and then without pretence it reached for it’s detached head. “I see that you have no desire to honour our agreement” The knight said as he stood and tucked his own head under his arm. “I bid you good day sir.” He said bowing with his head under the crook of his arm as he left the keep.
Forgal looking after him with his wide fishy mouth hanging open.
The brigands sat for a moment befuddled as if they’d been visited by a spirit or fallen to some drink that had given them all the same strange dreams.
Twilight was upon the bog and the world was still and grey.
The knight of green replaced his detached head on his shoulders and sighed.
“Come Daurdabla, apple-sweet murmurer!
Come, Coir-cethair-chuir, four-angled frame of harmony,
Come summer, come winter,
Out of the mouths of harps and bags and pipes!”
If you want to see what happens next, head on over to inkitt by clicking this link In the pines.
Well I made a start, on Kur 2 surprisingly enough, I just had some really good ideas for how to start it and started tossing things around in my head, ideas for scenes, the developing plot and the story, themes. I do think I need to write a self inclosed book, I mean Diana is that of course but it’s not a huge book, it’s something I planned to expand over a couple of books. So now I want to make a book that expands and finishes in one book, telling a complete and epic high concept story. But you know I can’t control where my mind goes and my mind right now wants to swing a broadsword around like Conan instead of flinging super powers haha.
I’m kinda in that weird rut again in between big projects because if I write a sequel to Kur but no one likes Kur 1 then I’m shit out of luck and I really need to go back and redo a lot of the first in my opinion. But I honestly don’t know if that would improve it or make it worse.
I really should be going into something new but I’m not sure the superhero story I want to do will really be the thing that gets the ball rolling. I always just sort of write whatever I feel like but at this point I’m going to die before I even get anything traditionally published haha. I’ve sort of accepted that I’m this spergy weirdo like Lovecraft who’ll most likely die alone and that means all that really matters is leaving behind something worthwhile. I mean there’s one thing that I can really say that I’ll leave behind that I know is truly worthwhile but in terms of my writings I can’t really pick out one thing that’s really significant, it all kinda feels like scraps, little tit bits of ok stuff floating around in a lot of junk. And I can’t tell if there’s more good than bad honestly and that’s really the difference between being remembered and being forgotten. Living forever or… not.
So I don’t know, only time will tell and other cliches, but it’s maddening and I feel like I’m running out of time and the deck is stacked against me. It’s one of those days where I wish white male straight privilege was a real thing so I could cash some of that shit in haha. If only there was a good old boys club for publishing, sadly that is not the case.
Anyway so we’ll see how that goes, I’ll continue to follow my creative ID brain to whatever stimulates me I guess. On the subject of what does and doesn’t stimulate me (epic segue haha).
I already said I bought game pass for a month to try out their games, it was like 2 quid and I feel like I got my moneys worth. I wanted to review Homefront the revolution because it’s a game that got totally fucking flamed when it came out for being a buggy mess. And I’m playing it like ‘this is really good’, it’s basically farcry 3 but or crysis but good. I don’t know another way of describing, it’s mostly just that the world feels more real and it doesn’t have these comic book villains, its just trying to make a red dawn scenario as close to reality as it would be. And I really like how the game is structured where you have these zones that are open warfare and then you have these places where people live and it’s more built up and you have to focus on stealth or you’ll be overwhelmed. I really like that pacing and strategy and the guns look and feel great.
I was gearing up to give it an awesome review just be a contrarian fuck but then I get to the end of the game and it just fucking breaks haha. Like its just dead, I can’t complete it.
I’m obviously not that pissed because I didn’t pay like sixty quid for it, it’s included in that two quid for gamepass. But if I had paid full price I would have been pissed because I did feel invested in the world and the story was decent, not amazing but it knew when to be involving and it knew when to stay out of your way. Which is the main problem with most far cry games, they try to give you this involved story with characters you barely get a second to care about before you’re thrust up their asses and it just feels forced. I much preferred farcry 2 because the story knew to sit on the edge and just let you enjoy the game and the world.
Still watching American horror story apocalypse and I have to say it’s probably the most boring season so far, there’s a lot of filler for a show that doesn’t have that many episodes to a season. Don’t get me wrong I like the main villain, I like most of their main villains the problem is that the heroes are fucking insufferable and every character Sarah Paulson plays has the smug turned up to eleven, it’s hard to watch.
I’m expected as a viewer to look at these irritating main heroes and like them I guess but expect them to lose to the more likeable and relateable villain but then he will ultimately lose because that’s just how these stories work. They toy with these horror elements but in the end the ‘good guy’s’ always wins and it sort of deflates the whole story. Have some fucking balls to tell an actual horror story and have your heroes lose, I mean they all come back as different people anyway.
It’s just what I hate about narratives like this, they’re so fucking predictable and worse they try to make you like characters that are shitty and only really there to push a narrative.
The reason it’s boring is because it opens up this new apocalypse world which is cool, they’re living in a bunker and there are biblical themes and mad max themes and it starts to work but now we’re stuck in this middling middle bit where it’s just flashbacks before the end where it’s sort of trying to fill plotholes from previous seasons we’d already forgotten about. Like I don’t give a shit if the ghosts from season one kiss and make up, I don’t care what happened to the witches in season three, they were barely likeable there. In fact the only likeable character in that season was Kathy Baites, admittedly she’s pretty much the most likeable character in every season. I wanted to cry when she died in season six, just a fantastic actress, I love it when she plays bad guys especially haha.
But you have this cool premise you could do pretty much anything with and it feels like it’s just jerking itself off spending whole episodes dwelling on past seasons like some cheesy clipshow from hell only to end in a way I know will be predictable as fuck. I mean yeah you need to know how the anti-christ got the ball rolling on the apocalypse but do you really need to spend like half the show on it going back to previous seasons? The show kinda feels like charmed right now or supernatural. I’m still enjoying it but I know how it’s going to end, hopefully it’ll be fun before that cringefest inevitably happens. At least I know it could never be as cringe as the end of season seven, jesus jumping fuck.
Anyhoo, can’t waste the whole fucking day on this, need to get back to planning Kur 2 electric boogaloo. This of course is the rough starship troopers pilot script, here we have some of that lovely cringe propaganda Paul Verhoeven added, this isn’t in the books but I felt like it adds a layer to the world building and it’s just fun and funny and campy and how could you not do it. Just lends a spirit of fun that I think was necessary, the book is a little overly serious, I do think it needed to make fun of itself like this.
A strange looking man looks in the camera with a psychedelic backdrop.
Do you think you’re psychic?
STRANGE MAN (
Maybe you are.
An eye opens on his forehead and a weird light comes from it.
The federation is opening testing sites today in your area for those who believe they are gifted, sign up today!
A smiling woman is sat in a metal chair with a screen behind her with large playing cards displayed on it, she’s trying to guess the them. There’s a man in front of her operating the machine.
ExT. Planet p. Day
The mutilated bodies of a colony of people in a strange desolate planet.
Horror on planet P.
VOICE OVER (
The mutilated bodies of members of a religious cult were discovered today.
VOICE OVER (
The religious group has been warned on several occasions against colonizing restricted zones of the planet.
VoICE OVER (
Was this some sort of ritual or something worse.
VOICE OVER (
Only the federation can guarantee your safety, stay only zones marked unrestricted. More at eleven.
InT. Courtroom. Day
A man in chains is brought before a council of judges.
A pornographer is convicted today.
VOICE OVER (
The sentence for this smut
A group of military police are lined up as a firing squad.
VOICE OVER (
Tune in live at six on all channels.
VOICE OVER (
Would you like to know more?
InT. Karls basement lab. Night.
Rico is hooked up to a computer and is doing the same psychic test the girl in the
was doing. He’s trying to use psychic powers to guess the playing cards. The ace of spades is on the display behind him.
The queen of hearts.
That’s the fifth guess you’ve got wrong, statistically you should’ve at least guessed one right purely by luck.
So I’m not psychic and I’m not luck.
It’s not about luck its…
Why the interest in all this stuff so suddenly anyway, you trying to read Carmen’s mind?
It’s nothing, I’ve just been having these weird dreams recently.
I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep thinking about what I’ll do after we graduate.
go on a rich kid’s vacation to mars or the outer rings of
and then you’re
just like your dad wants you to. (
tinkering with something not directly looking at Rico.)
Don’t give me that rich kid
, ever since we were kids everything I had was as good as yours too.
Like that rolls copter my dad got me, that was as much yours as it was mine.
It’s not like I asked to be this rich and good looking.
So what about you, big brain Karl must be going to college too.
Actually I decided to do a term of service before I continue with school.
. It just seemed like the right thing to do. It just feels… natural.
Rico takes a moment to think about it.
Then I’ll join up too.
Your dad won’t let you.
How can he stop me?
It’s not like they’ll put us in the same squad, I’m not bucking to get shot at,
R & D is more my speed. You know me, electronics are my thing.
What about Carmen?
I walked her home again.
Did you ask her?
To the dance? Sure I did and she said ‘yes’.
Karl looks a little surprised.
What was I not supposed to?
Well there were other options.
You mean like
It doesn’t take a mind reader to know what she wants.
It’s Carmen for me and that’s that.
It’s Carmen for a lot of guys.
What’s that supposed to mean?
is a better fit. Carmen’s always been
Funny. She likes me.
She likes your
size swimming pool.
So this is me attempting to get back into a normal routine and sort of failing miserably because that routine also includes lifting heavier weights than the balls of Jehovah. So I’m trying to fix my sleep schedule and also sleeping right through every alarm I set as my body tries to heal itself.
Anyway I hope you all had a great christmas and a snappy new years, both mine kind of sucked. Christmas just felt sort of flat and I didn’t feel christmassy at all, I worked on new years so that was a boner killer,
In other news found an awesome new videogame, the mad max game is surprisingly bad ass. Also my new relationship is sort of working out in a weird way. I paired her with videogames in case she reads this just to annoy her.
I don’t want to really go into detail because I’m conflicted I should feel terrible and I sort of do, it’s like I want to be happy while also being stomped on by life in the worst ways imaginable. I’m not saying that for sympathy, I don’t give a shit, it’s just a weird feeling approaching her birthday and feeling so lost and miserable and heartbroken as I’m completely shut out while also being at the start of could be a really happy healthy relationship. One that could actually work and isn’t just setting me up for supreme heart ache down the road.
Someone less of an idiot could maybe wash his hands of the whole thing and forget and just start over but I can’t.
Yeah I kinda wanted to start the new year off light and already fucked that up but hopefully my schedule will open up a bit this month and I can finally get Diana done and start sending her out into the world to get mercilessly torn asunder. I know I’ve been kind of procrastinating and putting it off for the longest time, just like I’ve been putting going to the next weight level in my training. But hey I did that and now I feel like a tenderised piece of meat haha.
Maybe I can make good on that other stuff too and get a new job. But what the fuck am I even going to spend the money now that she won’t let me see her?
My mother’s old Chrysler pitched and yawed and creaked to a stop with that horrible ratcheting sound of the gear box unto imminent death. Which of course Ericcson not being familiar with it didn’t know exactly the right way it like to be touched. So as not to eviscerate the already ramshackle clutch. Held together with tape and prayers.
Still these concerns were beyond me, my main worries were now worms nesting in my ear and being unable scratch my nose. Not being able to turn the pages of the book or change the channel on the television was of particular concern. Forever doomed to just watch whatever anyone else wanted to watch.
The girl’s directions weren’t too bad. Although she might have recommended we bring a machete for our trip as the road leading to the house was intensely overgrown. So much so as to almost disappear into the trees.
The pornographer Lukas lived in a fairly large new England country house out on the east side near the river. Just a guess really, due to the sound of running water, that being the only sound I heard, no birds chirped nor foxes howled.
The house itself was in utter disrepair and looked most certainly abandoned. The face of it was once a white wood, the paint rotted and chipped and discoloured. All but one of the upstairs windows were broken, most likely by bored local children. The roof was tiled in grey slate with a red brick chimney which had collapsed into the attic. The front door was green and hanging off its hinges. A white picket fence surrounded the square building and traced the outline of a truly unruly lawn. Which had swallowed a very rusty looking push mower, most certainly its first victim.
Undettered by this Ericcson got out of the car slamming the door of the Chrysler as if to announce himself. He paused only momentarily to absorb a most ominious atmosphere. The building exsoothed a singular loneliness and gave off an almost abstract feeling of revulsion.
The autumnal trees behind the house were such deep oranges they almost looked like a mat red canvas against the house. They swayed lightly in the breeze and noiseless things that must have been birds leapt out of them and into flight.
Ericcson opened the fence gently and approached the door meaning to knock on the great green edifice. But instead he tried the knob and it was unlocked.
We entered, I of course hanging at his side in my bag.
But I could see out of a number of holes made in the bag for that direct purpose.
Now, being a disembodied head you’d think not much could shock me. But upon entering the house, expecting more filth and degradation as the outside advertised. We were instead greeted with a warming glow.
I wondered for a moment if Ericcon and I were seeing the same thing. From the outside it seemed like an abandoned run down shack and from the inside it was a living home of some humble opulence.
I could hear the lapping and crackling of a warm fire and the soothing tock of a grandfather clock
Ericcson it would seem was entranced and I dared not to wake him as he made an odd noise as if reacting to some unheard tone in a dream.
He walked slowly and cautiously towards the noise of the fire into the living, decorated as if a scene in a holiday greeting card. Real logs burned in the fire and wreathes hung over it and on the mantel there were pictures of a happy family although their faces I could not make out.
Ericcson walked bow legged and collapsed into an easy chair in the corner allowing me to slump down next to him on the carpeted floor.
I didn’t even notice the other person in the room until I heard the chinking of the ice in his drink.
“So nice of you to pay me a visit” The man said as he tipped the glass towards Ericcson.
He was an odd duck, dressed almost like a hipster mister Rogers; a brown sweater over a plaid shirt. His sleeves rolled up revealing elaborate tattoos, his face too was marked with scarification and tunnels in his ears. His eyes were a disturbing unnatural blue, altered somehow with pigment.
“I’ve come to kill you” Ericcson said flatly as if talking in his sleep.
“Is that right?” The man smiled and looked into his drink. “Lydia – the girl in the store called me right after you did, this is the only address she knows so I knew you’d come here.”
“It’s a trap then?”
“Not really, more like a check-up” He motioned down with his head “How do you like your drink?”
Ericcson looked down at his hand and saw a whiskey glass there and he jumped as if he suddenly felt like he was falling and dropped it on the floor. The tumbler landed with a dull thud and rolled towards the fire place.
“Too bad, that was good stuff” He took a sip of his drink and straightened in his wingback chair. “Well enough with the niceties, I’m sure Niall didn’t impress you too much but you’ll find us a little more prepared.”
“I already told you that” He said as he put his drink down with a clunk on a glass coffee table and then leaned back with his hands across his lap. His hands too were covered in obscure tattoos that looked like child’s drawings and he had odd jewellery on his thumbs. “But enough about that, we’re here for you Zane.
The doorbell rang.
“Oh that must be our guests”
“Guests?” Ericcson said sadly.
Check out the rest of the chapter right here on inkitt The big dream
Back again with more fill- I mean excellent content haha.
Yeah you’ve seen it before but this time it’s new and improved and you can only see some of it because of copyright reasons I guess haha. Also why I call this Diana in the Dark when the actual title is probably Diana After Dark but I haven’t really decided, I go between either. But I don’t want people just copy pasting my chapters when I’m trying to sell this book if I ever sell this book and it doesn’t just go nowhere and I start giving it away for free like I did with my last book haha. That sucked but I guess people liked it. Not enough to fill my mailing list with thousands of emails but eh, better than some people I know and at least I’m not getting rich off weird werewolf/vampire fetish books because having all that money would suck haha.
So mostly been wrestling with the ending of 3 ring part two and reading this latest Parker book which seems much longer than the previous books. Because a lot has happened already and I’m not even half way through it which is great because what’s happened so far was pretty good and I like the power dynamics at play right now and how all the characters are shaping out.
There was also this great scene where this mob boss who doesn’t know who Parker is calls another mob boss who’s had dealings with him and instantly just tells him to pay nomatter what. It was really satisfying, because when you get down to it the only real power a mob boss has is fear and when you encounter someone like Parker that is incapable of feeling fear he’s unstoppable. And the reason Parker is incapable of feeling fear is he really has nothing to lose. Up until now he had nothing but a fake name, and you never actually get to know his real birth name, but he has no mother, no father, no family or friends at all he wouldn’t abandon in a heartbeat, he has no address or car. He’s a ghost, you can’t take anything from him because he has nothing, he loves nothing and he can be anywhere and nowhere because he doesn’t exist. Which is something I think Westlake is trying to weed out, introducing a love interest in Claire so he has some motivation other than money and some fear of losing her.
But when you encounter someone who has no fixed address or anyway of tracking him or hurting him you have to look at yourself and see all the ways they can find and hurt you, so even if your a mob boss someone like Parker with no real life at all other than the job is terrifying because you have so much to lose and he has literally nothing to lose but his life. Which makes a great dynamic, between real power and imagined power. The power of someone with connections and money versus the power of a boot on your neck right now. I really like that. It’s almost I wanna say ‘faustian’ but I don’t know if that fits, I guess it doesn’t, could delete that but I wont. Like an ancient fantasy, someone going up against a dragon and winning against all odds just from sheer grit and strength and perseverance.
It’s almost like a superhero story in that respect, but good haha.
Was gonna talk about sneaky pete because I’ve been watching more amazon originals that are decent while working out but I’ve spent too much time faffing about with my alt accounts on facebook haha. I’ve just been used to being banned for so long I forgot how much of a timesink facebook is. But I’m unbanned on my main now so I can do something with that now I guess.
But I have to bid you farwell as I have more proofreading to do today.
He took me back to his place in French Court, about a two minute drive from Starbucks. It was a nice little bungalow that looked like it should have a picket fence but it didn’t. It was small, red brick with white trim and a brick chimney. The small patch of lawn in the front was, of course, neatly manicured.
I suspected the bushes were tested with a spirit level. The house was pristine, it looked brand new, could’ve single handedly raised the property value of the entire neighborhood.
Paul lived directly opposite the elementary school he’d gone to as a kid.
The area wasn’t too bad, well-kept palms, and lawns. It was quality middle-of-the-road Mediterranean style housing; home to some of the best seafood in the OC.
There was a restaurant called Ambrosia he seemed very proud of. It was a beacon in the least shiny part of Orange County. The birds chirping on, resilient in their fortitude for this too, to be a slice of paradise.
Nonetheless they all had wrought iron fences guarding their lawns, except Paul’s house. Just a small white porch with roman style pillars. There was something about it sitting on the corner like that, looking like a model house.
Like a house sitting on a nuclear test site about to be blown up, full of wax fruit bowels and mannequins sitting at dinner tables. It didn’t look lived-in; it looked like it was a trap house begging for someone to step on that carefully trimmed lawn. Teeth gnawing and clicking and tensing against each other. Praying the mailman would plant a foot off the path and then something could be unleashed, some dark righteous fury bottled up just for this moment. But that never came. The birds just chirped on incessantly.
It was Sunday, so the elementary school was quiet and still, which was a welcome change, I imagined.
He parked in the lot behind the house and led the way into his cool house. “Come on in.” Paul smiled.
It was a show house all right. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been here. I didn’t spend a lot of time with Paul; despite us being girlfriend/boyfriend. We didn’t really know what that meant. We appeared places together; we were together at school but when the curtains came down, the actors went back to their trailers and rested. Nothing more.
That was really as far as our interactions went. A pantomime for an audience of slack-jawed watchers, probably begging to be us and having no idea about the truth. We just liked our own space.
He cleared his throat and threw the keys down on a Formica top kitchen counter. “Well?”
I smiled back and took in a lungful of the cool musky air in his house. It didn’t smell bad or like dust, just old leather and new plastic and rubber. “Well what?”
“What was that all about?” he asked, almost stuttering.
I sat at a small functional kitchen table and sighed. “Some weirdo just tried to grab me, it’s nothing.”
“Some guy tries to grab you and that’s nothing?” Paul almost coughed and screeched. His face became a shade redder and his tone was strangled off by some violent shifting of gears in his throat. “How are you—I mean, how is…?”
I arched an eyebrow and massaged my temples. “I’m fine.”
The house was dark even though none of the blinds were drawn, it seemed shaded somehow. It was pleasantly cool, like the underside of a rock. Probably just the position of the house relevant to the sun.
I took out my phone, completely ignoring his concerns; they seemed too banal to even want to press. Why should he care if Voldemort tried to grab me with a boney claw? What could Paul have done to prevent it? He most certainly couldn’t make me un-see the heads with a back rub or a sonnet. I wouldn’t want him to.
Did the posturing and planning make him feel better; should I entertain him just for his own peace of mind?
Wasn’t I the one who’d been through two supposedly traumatic events? Why should I be responsible for setting things right in his world?
Humans, why did I bother?
Who was that strange metal pincher man? My mind drew back to one of those toy grabbers you got at the beach arcades. I guess that made me a hapless stuffed animal.
Deer in headlights Diana.
Did he really know about me? What was there to know? A naughty search history, a little amateur hack magic…hardly seemed enough to raise the dead. Hardly the most alarming thing to happen to me all week.
I swiped on my phone back to Twitter and I pointed the screen at him. “Do you know this guy?”
Paul took the phone with a curt urgency.
What had my phone done to him?
He turned the screen back to me and pointed. “Is this the guy who grabbed you?”
“He lives around here?” I asked.
“Yeah I know this scumbag, deals dope out of a house in Central City; has these wild parties…” He trailed off.
“How do you know him?” I asked tilting my head to one side.
He tilted the screen back and looked at the picture again. “We went to the same elementary school” The look on his face was hard to decipher, sadness and anger, possibly regret, what do I know? “He dropped out.”
“He dropped out of elementary school? See a future in orange sherbet or something?”
“Or something.” Paul sighed. “He’s a pretty bad dude, heard a lot of—rumours, I guess.” He shook his head and scrunched up his eyes as he said it, as if he really wasn’t sure.
Central City was the unofficial gang hub of Orange County. A veritable hive of scum and villainy. Surely every nice little berg had one. One could get almost anything down there, drugs, unlicensed guns, prostitutes. Maybe even human lives and knock-off Levi’s.
The kind of place someone went when they hadn’t discovered they could get all that stuff on the internet without having to leave their mom’s basement.
“So?” I asked in my best pixie-dream-girl voice.
He held up the phone, then caught himself. “You wanna go there?” He gaped, ruffling that long handsome brow of his.
I nodded and kicked my feet like a kid on a swing set. Trying to hide a rising tide of dark angel trumpets calling me. A shrill laughter in the stygian depths, a shock doing a Mexican wave across the invisible microscopic fine hairs I failed to pluck. I waxed too, hairy pits in California heat? No thanks.
“Tonight?” Paul asked, his voice almost shaking, with something I couldn’t quite fathom.
Was he afraid, or was it something else?
The way he’d said it, it was almost like a challenge.
“Is he having one of the parties tonight?” As soon as I’d said it, I felt dumb again. Getting to be a bad habit today.
He made a hissing sound in his mouth and shook his head. “Every night, these people don’t have jobs to go to, or school.”
It was a school night.
Of course I knew that. I was just awash with some new profound feeling of the unknown and the fact we had school in the morning made it seem twice as delicious to try tonight.
Why would I go there? Just to see him for myself, and then what? ‘Hey Antoine, have you been leaving a trail of body parts for me to follow?’
Was it even him? I didn’t want it to be him; the Twitter activity alone had shattered a lot of the mystique around him.
If he was the one I’d be…deflated. What would he do when he saw me? Would it be ‘off with her head’ or ‘Hi, friend, you got the message, let’s play’?
Either way if I could get Paul to go along, it would be to my advantage, if only to be a distraction in case I needed to run far and fast away.
Was I really that callous? Maybe, maybe not.
“Okay?” I said, rising to this illusory challenge.
He shook his head and let out a breathy laugh. “Sure.”
Cloistered in his mother’s bedroom I got ready. Her room was perfectly preserved from the time she left, or had she died? I forget. All her makeup was neatly arranged, but her clothes were unfortunately a few sizes too big. The whole room was a mute seventies baby sick brown color that was actually quite charming with the blinds drawn. A few slivers of dying light poking through the cracks.
Undressed, standing in a black bra and panties I looked at myself in her long hanging mirror. . It wasn’t particularly glamorous, but I hadn’t been expecting to go to a potential serial killer’s house on a school night.
Pulled my hair back and made a puffy duck face. I was pretty good looking, genetically speaking. Long and lean in the right places, and round in some other places, those places being my boobs and my butt, skipping euphemisms. Wasn’t especially endowed but I had a desirable shape. I kept fit, green smoothies and all that, but mostly it was just luck and genes. Turning to my side I continued to inspect myself.
A stern knock at the door had me jumping away from the mirror.
The knock I imagined imitated his father doing some kind of room inspection. Maybe I should stand at attention in my underwear.
Through a crack in the door I could see Paul’s dull soft face was waiting with a sad lilting smile.
He shied away bashfully.
“Come on, Paul, you’ve seen me naked.” Putting my hands on my hips and doing my best tinkerbell impression.
“Not, recently,” he said with a sigh.
I shrugged it off as I took the stack of clothing he had in his hands “Well it’s just been so hectic with finals and all, you know. Soon.” But where ‘soon’ fell on the calendar was any bodies guess. He looked at the clothes I was trying to take from him. “Err, these are from…you left them the last time you were here.”
Was it really that long ago?
My boyfriend released the perfect square block of pressed clothes. He’d clearly taken a lot of time and effort to clean and iron them, or maybe it was just a routine he couldn’t shake.
I took them and laid them on the bed, leaving the door open a crack so he could see.
It was nothing too flashy, or too slutty. That’d never really been my style; I was more of a boutique-chic kinda gal. A little like my aunt, but without the mumbo jumbo, none of that Native American head dress feather hippy crap. It was either that or pressed blues for her, nothing else.
The shirt was just a low cut flowing top with some lame skull pattern in black and gold. It was kind of corny; maybe I’d been going through an emo phase I’d forgotten about. Paired with it were a pair of regular tight jeans with rhinestones along the sides and a pair of strappy shoes I didn’t recognize, but fit all the same.
I dolled my hair up the best I could, somewhere between hooker and transvestite hooker. Basically trying to get it as high off my head as possible, which was easy with the pixie cut. Just a little gel and a little elbow grease and my hair could cut glass.
A black choker with a little gem charm completed the look; badass without a clue. I looked in the mirror and sighed. My makeup was okay, but I still looked like I was doing a cameo on an eighties cop show. Too much eye shadow, was I planning to kill this guy or join his harem? So much of this seemed to be the stumbling’s of a homicidal Hannah Montana, just falling over myself to dissect or be dissected. I pretended I had a plan, told myself what I was going to do, but I really had no idea, and that was half the fun of it. Feeling my pulse rise, thinking about the variables I couldn’t control. All the use careful planning could be, dashed on the rocks of pure impetuous impulse.
Sorry eh-guy, you’re gonna have to buy the book when it comes out to get the full edited chapter haha. But you can read the unedited raw version right here.
Spirit is willing