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[8 licked the flame | throw a match?]

The Ghost of Christmas Past and Future [24 Dec 2008|01:08am]
When they had told him, he'd been staring out the window of the baby's room. Imagining being home, imagining the snow that would be falling if he were back home. Fucked if he knew why he was still here. Cali-fucking-fornia. Only reason he stayed was in this very room. Or had been in this room.

And then he got the call, someone sneaking around outside of the gates, someone trying to spy on his home. Who the fuck would be pulling this shit on Christmas fucking eve, he had no clue. And no one told him of what the 'spy' looked like. No one said a thing, they just adjusted the camera's to pick up the figure a little more clearly. Not a word was spoken, because truthfully? No one dared.

The man himself was silent. Completely silent as he stared at first one camera, then the next. His jaw was tight, his free hand was clenched. But his other hand? His busy one? Was stroking over and over the black feather he kept braided into his hair. And slowly, very slowly his face drained of blood, and he became pale, so pale.

"Turn them off." He spun then, graceful as ever in spite of his speed. "Turn them all off, every one of the cameras." And with that he was out of the room, out and down the hallway.

"Start a fire in my office, call the dogs in and feed them, and then get out. Merry fucking Christmas, all of you get the fuck out. Don't come back until I call you... and leave the back way, don't let - don't let her see you."

He was gone then, a ghost in black clothes, out the side door, and down the path to the delivery gate, around the corner from where spy was walking back and forth.

[throw a match?]

Am I an asshole? *whistling a Denis Leary song* [09 Dec 2008|01:50pm]
[ mood | laughing my balls off ]

Why yes, as a matter of fact I AM an asshole.

The I'D HIT IT Meme

And most particularly, here I am an asshole. http://nottome.livejournal.com/27532.html?thread=821388#t821388

*edit* well it seems that I am an asshole with bad html. And I can't figure out how to fix the damned thing. I did the copy-paste like it said!

The site is here: http://nottome.livejournal.com/27532.html

[throw a match?]

Fairy Tales Are Never What They Seem (prompt 60.1 D for writers_muses) [30 Oct 2008|07:11am]
Why did I keep coming back for her? Fucked if I know. It started out as a lark, became a challenge and grew to be an obsession.

Face it, if she wasn't such a loud mouthed, hard nosed, street trash talking, stubborn little red-headed bitch, I probably never would have noticed her. But if she wasn't such a stubborn, defiant, sneaky, gutter-mouthed, smart-ass bitch, I probably never would have fallen in love with her in the first place.Collapse )

[1 licked the flame | throw a match?]

One Man's Crazy (prompt 57. 2 F for writers_muses) [04 Sep 2008|01:47am]
[ mood | exhausted ]

Arkham Behavioral Unit, March 13, 1996

Clinician's Diagnosis:
The patient, John Michael Martin displays characteristics consistent with classic Schizophrenia with accompanying Paranoid Delusions. He has been observed displaying severe bi-polar tendencies, and was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder at age of 9 (see accompanying report). Patient denies any responsibility in the deaths of his parents or younger siblings, blaming it instead upon his 'alter ego' named Ringer, a character based upon the fictional villains taken from the pages of a Stephen King Novel 'The Regulators' and various composite old 1950's Westerns. Attempts to remove his cowboy style hat continue to provoke a violent reaction in the patient which consistently results in having to separate him from the populace and sedating him, with the accompanying four-point to five-point restraint system involved in most cases, and a period of time in lock-down within a solitary safe room within the facility.

Scheduled Release date: Patient is slated to be released in 1990 upon reaching the age 18.

Individual Rehabilitation Program: With strict dosage and drug control with close guidance and both strictly observed individual and group therapy sessions it is hoped that this patient may be rehabilitated and returned to society at that timeCollapse )

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Haunted [18 Jul 2008|04:09pm]
[ mood | indescribable ]

If you think there's no such thing as ghosts, think again. There are ghosts, specters, haunts if you will. I believe in - no, I know. Ghosts don't have to wear bedsheets or clink chains, they don't have to hide in dark hallways and leap out at the unsuspecting.Collapse )

[throw a match?]

WM prompt #44. 6 - one word prompt 'Remembrance'. [18 Jul 2008|04:04pm]
[ mood | indescribable ]


If you think there's no such thing as ghosts, think again. There are ghosts, specters, haunts if you will. I believe in - no, I know. Ghosts don't have to wear bedsheets or clink chains, they don't have to hide in dark hallways and leap out at the unsuspecting.Collapse )

[throw a match?]

FYI people [04 Jun 2008|06:08am]
[ mood | annoyed ]

Because my typist's AIM was compromised - and it's a short, annoying story - had to change the AIM. It's now *drumroll please*

Taarakian B

Just so you know.

[throw a match?]

June Character Development Exercise for tenebrae_nostro [04 Jun 2008|03:36am]
[ mood | accomplished ]


Fire. One very nice sized, growing-ever-larger, fucking fire. Flames, huge ones, reaching out from around a mushroom cloud on the horizon to burn up the very air around it. The mushroom cloud explodes up from a pool of oil. Oil? Oh hell, maybe gas, or something else. Something toxic, something deadly. Something dirty. And that in turn, the oil or whatever it is? Gushes up from the depths of Hades itself.

It's a nice picture. Gives me ideas. I like it. A lot.

***(happens before he meets up with the lovely and delectable Mrs Lovett)***

The smoke was rising into the sky, thick and black. Top rested against the hood of his rented jeep, watching as it filled the air in loops and swirls, only to drift away on the warm afternoon breeze. He took a deep breath, let it out with a satisfied sigh. Some things just seemed to be better with fire, as if the fire cleansed all the decay, all the infection away. And that was exactly what this place was. Infected, decayed.Collapse )

[1 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[03 Jun 2008|02:27pm]
Things seem to have gone fucking nuts at my typist's work, and said typist is going to be balls to the wall for the forthcoming week or a few. Consequently my, and certain other pup's answers may be spotty.

Just lettin' ya know.

[throw a match?]

Prompt #31.6 - 'Toy'. (x-posted to W_M, T_N) [18 May 2008|08:56am]
[ mood | predatory ]

Some Appetites Are Too Strong To Ignore

((OOC - this began as a musical meme going around the internet where a muse would give you musical lyrics and you write a fic about your pup and theirs based on the lyrics. This was my response to one, and it kind of grew from there. BTW, this is considered NSFW,and is lj cut because of it. Not really for the squeamishCollapse )

[throw a match?]

W_M prompt 34.4 Late for an Engagement [18 May 2008|08:19am]
[ mood | refreshed ]

"That's the difference between true class and a psycho" Top thought to himself, smoothing over the lapels of his Armani blazer. The bottom feeder run-of-the-mill psychotics?Collapse )

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*just shakes his head at his mun* [17 May 2008|05:31pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

Insane. Just fucking insane. What'll they think of next?

[Points at all_forme]

[throw a match?]

Let It Burn (May Character Development Exercise for tenebrae_nostro) [13 May 2008|01:58pm]
[ mood | blank ]

The fire was hot on his face, hotter still on the metal buttons of his shirt. Still he watched the metal turn from black to red, watched as the paint curled and peeled off. There was a smell of gasoline, and so much more. Rubber, the hoses burning, the leather covered seats charring to black. The sounds of light bulbs popping from the intense heat, the crackling of the flames as they fed upon metal and cloth and plastic and wiring. There'd already been one explosion, one that had whipped sparks and burning cinders into the air to land on his hair, to singe his clothing. Shaking them off the tall man stood stood there, not moving, simply observing as his limousine burned down to the melted rubber slags of it's tires.Read more...Collapse )

[1 licked the flame | throw a match?]

The words were typed, the images of the letters appearing to glow in the dark on the screen [17 Jul 2007|06:29pm]
[ mood | discontent ]

"Mya, where the fuck are you? I've sent out scouts, and search parties and oh fuckit. You'll be found when you want to be found. You always do."

"You're going to be an aunt, Mya. Yep, after all these years I got one to stick. What do ya know. And yea, it's with Viv. Kind of glad now I got her off the drugs. Shit, I'm also glad she's not drinking my fucking blood anymore..." His thoughts darken as he thinks of the man who helped him cure her "Anyhow, if I can keep Cinderella from going any more bugfuck insane, gonna have a new little addition to this family of mine. Momma and big bad wolf and baby wolf makes three."

"Killed another blackbird too, fucking nexus. Some men never learn, no matter how times you kill them."

"Later Mya. And you're right. Cinderella does have beautiful eyes."

The words stay on the screen for a long time, seeming to float in the blackness of the room. Then with a muttered curse Top deletes the message, gets up, and walks away.

[16 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[12 Nov 2006|09:42am]
[ mood | anticipatory ]

Top shuffled through his papers again, casually glancing towards the doorway where Viv would be walking through any moment now. Turning them faced down on the desk, he leaned back and put his feet up. Eyes narrowing, his face was still as he stared at the redhead walking into the room.

"There you are, Cinderella. Got a question for you."

[5 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[03 Nov 2006|12:51am]
[ mood | devious ]

Tops' spy system was as wide spread as ever, so when he got the phone call his eyebrows raised up in surprise. "They did? Who exactly? Vampire hunter - Bliss? Yea ok. Him and who else. What do you mean you don't know. Wait, did you say purple?" He gave a dark laugh, and listened some more. "Never mind, I know who you're talking about. So what did they say? Hmmm.. really now? Good, very good. No, it's fine if you didn't hear it all. You heard enough. Expect a bonus in your envelope next week."

Top put down the cell phone, and made a small note in his ledger. Then he sat back and hitched one foot up onto his desk, and leaned back, thinking. "Tsk, tsk. You should never say things in public where people are gonna hear you. Haven't you learned that by now? So how do I handle these birds with the least amount of stones."

Idly, he began jotting notes, adding diagrams as he went along. Doodling in the margins, the pictures were of dead bodies, tortured women screaming with their eyes ripped out, hatchets and guns. A psychologist would have a field day from the sketches alone.

Finally he wrote a note, put it in an envelope and handed it off to be sent out.

"Don't like people talking about me, that's just rude. Tacky too. Maybe I can't get the eagle in this case, but I can certainly make an impression on the songbird." Quietly he began to laugh, then louder until his voice echoed throughout his office and into the chambers beyond.

[6 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[02 Nov 2006|11:09am]
[ mood | accomplished ]

*First two paragraphs to be considered a private entry*
Town was lit up like a fucking christmas tree. Almost brought a tear to my eyes there for a minute. Best one yet, we started a few hours early, just as a surprise - like at one AM. Hey, it's after midnight right? So technically it can be Devil's Night. We were just celebrating for those folks around the world that couldn't make it to join our happy little gathering.

A day later and I can still hear the sirens going. It's too big, they still haven't put it out yet. Gotta remember to give the boys a bonus for this one.

*public entry*
And look what I found when I went on a stroll in the nexus. Damn, it's been a good day.

[4 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[21 Mar 2006|03:15pm]
[ mood | hopeful ]

He woke up, opened his eyes in the darkness of his bedroom and listened to her breathing softly in the bed beside him. It had been days now since she'd been given the antigen, and with a special diet she'd regained her coloring, her strength. She'd regained some of that spark that made her his Cinderella. But he hadn't touched her, not for more than a moment in all that time, just to take her arm to cross the street or to help her into a building. Let her get well first, let her get healthy. Let her get ready for him, let her want him for a change.

And if fact, he really had nothing to complain about. Her manners, while rough - were ladylike, her behavior was trustworthy. So far. He'd even tested her, little things at first. Asking her where she went shopping with, and who. And although she hesitated, she still told him the truth. Could she have really changed that much? Could he actually trust her again? No. Fuck no. But... still, she felt so good next to him. So small and delicate next to his strength.

Her arm was draped over his waist as she laid on her side, her body curled in towards his chest. He pulled his arm out from under the covers, trailed his fingers up her arm to her shoulder, along up her head. Top brushed Viv's hair back from her sleeping face in the dark, and bent forward to kiss her forehead. From there it was only a few inches to nuzzle her cheek, and then further below to lightly touch his lips to hers.

[9 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[27 Feb 2006|02:11pm]
[ mood | determined ]

It's been several days now since he'd brought her home. Saying almost nothing to her in the entire time they'd been together, simply bathing her, feeding her the freshest meats and the finest wines. Making her sleep beside him each night, knowing that she wanted to feed and knowing that she wouldn't. And in spite of his attention, in spite of his careful ministrations she was wasting away. He could see it in her eyes, in the frail whiteness of her skin.

Finally, he'd had enough.

He stood looking down at her asleep on his bed in the darkened room. His long hair lay loose down his bared back, his black silk pants the only thing he had on. And in his hand was a blade. Long and curved with a wicked edge. Hooded eyes looked down for a moment before the blade struck, slicing across skin with the keeness of a razor. It sliced into his arm cleanly, and a small trail of red began flowing up and over the skin.

Placing the knife on the bedstand, he dipped his forefinger in the blood, wiped it across her mouth where it stained her lips crimson.

"Wakey, wakey Cinderella. Breakfast is served."

[3 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[10 Feb 2006|02:41am]
[ mood | cold ]

He sat in the back corner of the smoky lounge, finishing off his whisky. The singer had long since left the stage, and the crowd had thinned out, only a few couples left - and him. He twirled his cane around in his hand, the light spinning off the silver knob. With one last look around, he finished his drink and stood up. Throwing a twenty on the table he slowly walked out into the night air. The singer tonight was beautiful, sang like an angel. But he couldn't bear to look at her.

She had long, light red hair.

[14 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[09 Jun 2005|08:13pm]
It didn't take long for Top to get tired of having Viv away for so long. He knew well enough that he didn't like for a situation to not have his full control and this time with Viv gone counted as one of those things. As soon as he got a call he had four of his Were's to pick Viv up in human form. As he waited in the study, he twirled the brandy in the glass around as if thinking to himself. As soon as he heard the double door open he knew who it was.

"Good job boys. Make sure we're not disturbed."

He doesn't even bother to stand to see how she is doing. He just sits there staring at the fire place. Even with the heat he wanted a fire to be bellowing about but he did think to have the A/C turned down first.

"In five minutes I'm going to get a call telling me if your story was true Cinderella. Want to change it before I ge this call?"

[13 licked the flame | throw a match?]

[19 May 2005|12:18pm]
[ mood | amused ]

Why am I doing these fucking things again? Oh, yea. Because she asked so so nicely.

By the way, Cinderella - I don't do "cuddles"

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Eigth Level of Hell - the Malebolge!Read more...Collapse )

[4 licked the flame | throw a match?]

OOC [06 May 2005|06:13pm]
[ mood | touched ]

((To the unnamed and most wonderful angel who gave me a paid account, I give you -

PAIN. Unceasing, unending torment, hard and vicious, vile, cold, and depraved.

Why, you ask?

Because we know you likes it that way))

[41 licked the flame | throw a match?]

Crazy Fucker Blew up My House [06 May 2005|04:58pm]
[ mood | enraged ]

He stared out into the night. On his forth glass of Kilbeggan and ice, he waited silently for the calls to come in. They did, one at a time, and messages were taken by his second, one of the few to survive the homestead massacre the other night. How many survivors, flowers for the widows and children, hospital bills, security surveys, life and health insurance, and home insurance - they came in slowly - trickling faster as the reports of the damage worsened, became more accurate.

Read more...Collapse )

[throw a match?]

[04 May 2005|01:50pm]
[ mood | cold ]

"Hmmmm, I paged her twice. She still isn't answering." Top pulled his desk drawer open, and lifted out a palm-sized instrument. Subdued lights flickered across its' gunmetal grey surface. Typing some equations onto the board, he cross-referenced with his main computer system, triangulating until it focused on a small area about ten square miles wide. he frowned slightly and reset the device to zero, then typed in numbers again.

Again the reading will not come to any smaller than a ten mile square piece of land.
Top got on the phone, and made two calls. One to the engineer support technician to come fix his fucking equipment. The other to his second in command. He had harsh words for both men, then hung up. Ten minutes later his support tech called him back, to let him know that he was on the way up, and would be there within two hours. Twenty minutes after that, his second came in with a series of computer-generated images that had been taken by a cellphone photocamera.

There were five photos in all, and all of them showing different variations of the same thing. Cinderella at a bar, laughing, talking and rubbing shoulders with the man who had interrupted her - discipline last time. Top looked at the pictures, expressionless. Then he slowly put them into the top drawer of his desk, nodding to himself.

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