Kerried away.
Oct. 20th, 2004 08:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunshine_queenHaven't LJed in days. Really, nothing that grand has happened. Found out that Heather was supposed to get kicked out of school, but, again, got out of it. I managed to escape Patterson's radar of doom about my grades.
I got a topic for my extended essay! 'Nazi ideology and its effects on German Youth'.
And I'm actually excited about it.
And I'm getting XF episodes on DVD from Nica. Because Nica wants to make me an addict. Mmhmm. I see through her plot.
Ordering class ring tomorrow. Am excited.
Hm, anything else of note? Wrote a drabble for Tess, still thinking about one for Hannah.
I`m going to post first lines from my assorted works of fiction. Your task is to take one and write a short drabble using the line as your first. Repost this in your journal, so I can do the same.
"Irina’s beauty is an anesthetic."
"To hide in plain sight is an art form I've perfected."
"There was no clear evidence that either started it."
"I was taught at a very young age that there was nothing more important than family."
"She had the maddening habit of being completely aloof, and she could lie on the couch reading, completely oblivious to his obvious disquiet until she chose to address his problems."
"Late-night talk shows irritate him."
"It’s an ad in the paper he notices, one he checks for subconsciously, never expecting it to catch his eyes."
I don’t remember the first time I met him.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-21 11:00 am (UTC)Plot? ME? What plot? I have no plot. *Innocent smile*
There are so many first lines I could use! I'll write one later, I promise!
So, you asked for a drabble
Date: 2004-10-26 05:43 pm (UTC)Irina’s beauty is an anaesthetic. She draws the blade along his face with care, deep enough to draw blood, but not to kill. The blank look on her face tells him that this is hurting her more than she would ever be willing to say. She does this for Nadia's sake, and he does it for hers. He looks into her eyes and he is numb to the pain, drowning in the impossible depths of her mind. The knife may be caressing his cheek -- and now his neck, and his arm -- but the pain is in her heart.
Re: So, you asked for a drabble
Date: 2004-10-26 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 07:52 pm (UTC)_______________________________________________________
I don’t remember the first time I met him. I think it
was during a rush when we were trying to get into a
fraternity. There’s nothing like passing out drunk on
top of each other to start a beautiful friendship.
We stayed good friends, bonded over both being
rejected by the frat house, shared late nights over
massive amounts of alcohol ruminating about an awful
date we just had. I vaguely remember one extremely
drunken moment one such evening when we had sworn off
women…one thing led to another and I could safely say
I had done some mild ‘experimentation’ in college.
We both decided to go into the CIA, and somehow,
miraculously, ended up in the same office. Both of us
were good little desk monkeys. Did as we were told,
never really stepped out of line. Went out at the end
of every workday and grabbed a burger and a drink at a
local bar. And then one day I see this rumpled
fuchsia blob streak past my cubicle. Little did I
know that it would change everything.
Our friendship was never the same after that. He
became completely focused on her. When she was on a
mission he couldn’t sleep at night. When she was
faking it at SD-6 he couldn’t focus on his other work.
And then, when they finally started dating she was
his air, his water, his nourishment…at least to hear
him tell it she was. I always thought he was being a
little overly dramatic. Until she “died”, that is.
It was horrible to watch him completely self-destruct
the way he did. We lost track of him for two weeks
once, I just knew in the pit of my stomach that we
would find him lying dead in a ditch somewhere.
Luckily there’s a reason it’s called women’s
intuition. Then he found Lauren. She was good for
him; she brought him back to reality. She cleaned him
up, got his life back on track, and before you knew it
he was pretty much the old Vaughn. But our friendship
was still not what it was before.
And then the fuchsia blob showed back up, in all her
glory. And wonder of wonders, we became friends. I
don’t know how it happened, when or why; I just know
that I finally had a best friend again. Someone to
stay up and get shit faced with, and talk about our
crappy lives, or lack thereof. And then, one day, she
was gone too. And I was right back to sitting alone
in my apartment, downing a bottle of tequila like some
pathetic 80-year-old man who let his life slip right
past him.
Syd and Vaughn are trying to pick up the pieces of
their relationship, which, if you ask me is sort of
doomed. Syd still wants the Vaughn of two years ago,
trust me, he isn’t that man. Vaughn still wants the
old Syd, which she isn’t. They don’t know each other
now, they know each other then, and they want to act
like no time has passed. Like Syd’s death never
happened, and Vaughn didn’t drink himself into a
stupor for weeks before finding another woman, and
that he didn’t shoot said woman.
But hey, what do I know? It’s not like I’ve ever had
a lasting relationship with a woman. Maybe I’m just
bitter that my old best friend, and extremely brief
best friend are so wrapped up in their own issues that
I’m pushed so far into the background of their
existence that I could move to Timbuktu and it would
take them at least 6 months to ask someone where I
was.
Maybe I should go out some. Go to a few bars this
weekend. Try to use the Charm O’ Weiss on a few
ladies. I won’t do it though. I’m pathetic and only
want to have things be the way they were when I
actually had friends. I guess I’m not so
different from Syd and Vaughn.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 10:07 pm (UTC)You're a dollbaby, truly, Hannah. That was super cute. And right about the SyVa-ness.
Eee! You undrabbled!