Jun. 15th, 2005 08:33 pm

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Revenge Gone Wrong, aka "Fucked Up Hamlet"

Act 1, Scene 5 )
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She paints her nails to colour her mood.

The sun shines, there’s a smile on her face and her nails are painted yellow. In a fit of rage, they’re red, when the temperature drops, blue is the colour and when t’is the season, they’re green and red.

Today, her nails are black.

She’s never coloured them this way before and she wonders just how much it reflects her state of mind. She’s depressed, that’s obvious, but how depressed? Is it because she was suicidal that she painted her nails black or did the dark colour drive her to killing herself? She thinks maybe she should have considered the weight of the colour of her nails before she cut open her wrists and let velvet crimson spill from her veins, mixing with the pitch-black.

Her mother gave her the black nail polish.

“It was missing from your collection,” she’d said. “Now you’ve got a full set.”

She’d never wanted completion. Having things unfinished was good; it mirrored herself. There was always a piece missing, there was always something a little bit off. She wasn’t complete, so why should anything around her be? Now she’s got every colour of the spectrum in her crooked wooden drawer and it’s complete and she’s not.
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All right, more things.

For the twelve days of Christmas, my ONE TRUE PAIRING love gave to meeeee:

Twelve Bors exaggerating,
Eleven Dagonets smashing,
Ten Vanoras singing,
Nine Guineveres swooning,
Eight Romans dying,
Seven Saxons crying,
Six Tristans kicking ass,
Five bottom Galahads!
Four Gawains with axes,
Three wise Merlins,
Two Lancelots bitching,

AND AN…

Arthur with a shiny phallic symbol!

Joel/Hugh. No particular title. Outcamping Ioan and Clive. Sex. )
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I wish this could get written, but alas and alack, the muse ran off. So, dump this story. You've got the Sam/Josh outline, so kick ass and work hard on that, edit the Legends, finish up Christmas ficlets, and I think that's it.

***

Now let me tell you a story about a man named Billy. Now, everyone loved Billy. All the women wanted him, all the men wished they were him, and, well, some of them there men wanted him just as much as the women.

So with that in mind, we cast the picture upon the young, bright, handsome young man who sometimes wanted to be Billy, and sometimes just wanted the young Scotsman well and fine indeed.
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All right, what else will I never finish?

NURSERY RHYMES/FAIRY TALE AU

Viggo: King
Cate: Queen
Orlando: Young Hero
Billy and Dom: Jack and Jill
Elijah: Cheshire-type Cat
Miranda: Red Riding Hood
Liv: Snow White Princess
Sean A.: White Rabbit
Karl: Lumberjack
Dave: Robin Hood
Sean B.: Knight/Prince

"And Dom went down, and broke his..."
"[clamps mouth] Princess in the vicinity!"
"And broke his...um...will to have any kind of dirty tumbling animalistic sex in front of a princess!"




Christmas 2003 Drabble Dom/Billy version.

T'was the night before Christmas and all through the flat
Not a creature was sleeping, not Dom, Billy, Orlando
Not event the random stray cat.
The costumes were hung in the trailers with care,
In hopes that they would get a break before the next wear.

Elijah and Viggo were nestled all snug in Orlando's bed,
While visions of badgers danced in Dom's head.
And Billy in his kilt, and Dom in his shiny suit (with bag)
Had just settled their brains after a long winter's shag.

When from Billy's throat there rose such a clatter,
Dom arched his hips in a Pavlovian manner.
Out of his repose Dom got up in a flash,
And straddled Billy, Dom did in a dash.

The moon on Billy's pale as snow skin,
Sparked a shining desire in Dom, along with his mischievous grin.
When, what to Dom's wondering eyes should appear,
But Billy kissing him with a lustful leer.

With a little old growl, so low and appealing,
Dom knew in a moment that he would be screaming.
More rapid than eagles, his breaths they came,
And he panted and shouted, and called Dom by name:

"God, Dom! Oh God!"
"Now Billy, of fuck..."
"More, Dom, more."
"Fuck, Billy, yes."
"Need you inside , need you with me.
Now Dom, make me come. Make me scream."

Dom pushed inside of Billy, slowly with great talent.
And Billy cried out, "No! Need you faster that's what I meant!"
Dom pushed inside, faster and harder with great delight,
Pushing his nails deep into Billy's skin with all his might.

And then, in a twinkling, Dom was nipping Billy’s ear,
Tasting, biting, making his marks so clear.
As Dom drew his breath, and was letting it out,
Down onto him came Billy with a strong and loud shout.

And as he did so, they heard a cry.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!" called Elijah, Orlando and Viggo out to the sky.
"And to all a good night," Dom whispered into Billy's ear.
"Elijah's voice rang out again: We know you're shagging, you guys made that clear!"
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Jack is grinding with James in some sort of club with sweat dripping, and lights flashing, and music pounding, and suddenly there’s this flash and James remembers a chase on foot, Jack recalls a swordfight, James remembers another swordfight that has a very different ending.

They both recall tangling limbs.

Then there’s another flash, and there’s a dance from what seems to be an 18th century masked ball. Jack recalls a duel with pistols, and James has a flash of a more dangerous dance in which they’re both running for their lives.

And then it’s back to the present and reality, with Jack pressed up against James’ back, arms wrapped languorously around James’ front, and lips pressed firmly to James’ neck.

***

[NICHOLAS drifts away, leaving a bewildered CRAIG]

CRAIG: Tell me, agreed to take part in any insane murder plots lately sparked by ghosts?

ALEX: [hurrying to get inside] I agree, he leaves me alone until I can figure out how to get rid of him, or…exorcise him…whatever the hell you do with a ghost.

CRAIG: Oh! I get it. Smart!

ALEX: I’ve been known to be. [Exits the roof]

CRAIG: [gazing out to the audience] Rest, rest, perturbed spirit. [Dawning moment of realization] Oh my god, oh…my god. I get it now. I totally remember! I remembered the line! Dude, I’ve got to call Anna. [Runs off the stage]

END ACT ONE

***

“Death will catch you, whether you run or not,” Dominic shook his head. “In this hour, at this present day, we are best to involve ourselves in the cause. On this very day, this very morning, the guns in Verona sounded loudly, exploding and taking the innocent lives of two precious women, both in good-standing virtue.”

And this, this did bewitch William’s attention for they now spoke of things that he was closer to, being a man of the law, a man who abided the law, who defended the law, a man who became the law.

“Two?”

“Aye, the Devil’s number.”

“And why do you call it the Devil’s number?” William asked, his companion facing out to sea.

“The Devil owns all the numbers,” Dominic replied lightly, as light as the breeze wafting through their hair. “Seven, three, twenty-two, sixty-six six, eleventy four.”
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Thirteen across. Eight spaces. Startling Revelation.

Billy gave a wry grin and filled in the blanks. E-P-I-P-H-A-N-Y. The mental crossword puzzle he’d concocted never served him better. At one point, he’d used it simply to define someone as difficult to pinpoint as Dom. It was a game. At first it had been easy to use for Dom. Behaviour On Set J-U-V-E-N-I-L-E. Mood of his grin. C-O-C-K-Y.

But now there was a startling revelation. Billy’s epiphany, which slotted perfectly into this mad little mental crossword that Billy had created in his mind. It crossed paths with four down (which spelled out needy) and seven down as well (spelling out the well-worn adage. ‘pip’s merry’). This epiphany of his hadn’t exactly been one of those welcoming things. It was more of something he had stumbled on with his morning tea.

It had been Tuesday morning and he had been on the phone with Dom.

And he realized that Dom was in love with him.

***

Before James can protest, he’s being shoved up against a graffiti laden wall in the alley. Jack is fierce as he surges forward with his mouth, teeth, tongue, hands, and everything else is coming at him like surefire bullets.

“You seem somewhat familiar,” Jack growls while his hands unlatch the hook of James’ trousers. “Have we met before?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” James breathes into Jack’s ear, voice heavy and deep with desire. Jack’s mouth presses against his and he exhales into it, letting his limbs go heavy. “Jack,” he moans out as his eyes close.

Later, James will recall that he was never told the stranger’s name.

Jack had noticed right then and there.

He didn’t bother to mention the name that was flashing in the front of his brain over and over again in a heated rush. James he mentally cried out as James hooked one arm over Jack’s body.

***

In his dreams, there is a woman.

She sways over to his side, running a perfectly manicured nail down his cheek and neck – across the scar – before showcasing her body. He looks on with admiration and a desperate desire to see if she’s really real.

“No scars here,” she shimmies her hips a little, unwrapping the scarf she wears to show off a perfect neck without a single change in constant colour. He smiles bitterly; past remembrances usually have no place in his dreams. He holds a card in his hand, and he doesn’t know why. She’s looking at it though, one eyebrow raised and licking her upper lip.

“What is this?” he asks, holding it up. She saunters over and turns it for him to see. In his hand, he clasps the ace of spades.

“Your ace in the hole,” she tells him. She leans in and poises her lips just beside his ear, resting there perfectly. He closes his eyes and smells her, memorizes every angle of her scent and clings to it. “You just have to find him,” she whispers, her miasma slowly drifting away.

Wesley wakes up.




It was strange. Never in his life did Wesley think that he’d live the life of a corporate lawyer, yet here he was, one degree separated from it. Of course, he also never imagined that it might be evil corporate lawyers he would be one degree separation from, but then again, souled vampires wasn’t exactly an item on his life plan.
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At the end of this day, Jack Sparrow has been hung, and James couldn’t stop it.

“No,” James hisses, feeling the strong hands of a few Marines against his chest. He struggles to push forward. Perhaps he can make one last stand and cut him down. Perhaps it’s not too late yet. “Let me through,” he commands in a booming voice, but that only brings another two Marines down upon him to hold him there.

He mutters a curse or two while he watches the slow sway of Jack’s suspended feet.

“Jack,” he mutters with defeat as he gives up, and his limbs go limp.

He’s failed, after all.




there lived the greatest of knights and among them lived Tristan who stood proud, true and heldloyal to his very last breath




Lilah: And of all people, he came running to you.
Wes: What’s the matter, Lilah? Upset you weren’t the first choice when it came to spiting Angel? After all, you worked so very hard to drive a stake between the boy and his father.
Lilah: Wes, lay off the puns.
Wes: He came to me. Begging.
Lilah: It doesn’t matter.
Wes: You weren’t the first choice, Lilah, darling. And I do hope you get used to it.




“A pox on those who built this city,” Dominic spat upon the earth, “with blood on mutinous hands and venomous hearts. A plague and a curse upon the heads of the Capulets’, upon the limbs of the Montagues’, and ill wishes to all remaining parts.”

In the shadow of the sun, o’er past the sands and by the crashing of the waves, Dominic sat in the reflection of the sun upon the sea. In the shadow of one other he sat, his tongue at work to devour the last traces of his orange-colour’d iced confection. The stain of which blossomed deep orange and left traces of sugar lingering over pink lips.

The day brought unrelenting heat, which was beating upon Dominic’s back, and with it the heat brought an unnatural course to the air; shimmering and waving as though a threshold to another place. In the shadow of William, in the shadow of Dominic, the waves crashed upon the shore, and the sunset slowly dipped into the calm waters in the west. Dominic stretched at the fabric and brushed past the trails of trickling sweat to fan at the heat, and chase away the vexation it caused.

“A pox on your idle mind, and your idle plans,” William retorted evenly, not moving, nor rising to the challenge. “A pox on your idle talks of curses and plagues, and a bother this weather is.”

“A bother you are.”

“And a bother I shall ever be.”
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Apr. 7th, 2004 12:44 pm

Assortment

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  • Strike the pixie idea. Nothing else has come to mind, so you might as well dump it and be through.




  • In terms of the Sparrington '04, more plausible idea came to mind. Have Norrington and Sparrow piss off some obscure god (do the research later) and be cursed to carry the souls forward, reborn with memories locked away until they appease/solve something, etc.etc.

    It would make the unlocking of the memories plausible as well as keeping them the same people while still keeping it in '04.




  • Verona Beach AU. Re-rent Romeo and Juliet to get reacquainted, most likely some bloody type of murderish type setting. Possible to do the Dom/Orlando here, with Billy as an angelic sort of presence, not in that he's holy and good but that he is always watching over. Possible costume party, give Billy the wings the Juliet wears.




  • Ficlet in which being called a 'movie star' is still something new and disturbing to Billy.




  • Firefly idea. Go back to Zoe and Wash's wedding. Write about it. Kind of a line going through my head:

    The wedding was planned by Mal (against Wash's greater arguments), and in the end, it turned out to be like every other social event Mal planned and hosted. There were guns, there was blood, and a great deal of people who weren't happy with the guests of honour.

    The blood had even gotten into the cake.

    Jayne had wanted that cake.





  • Billijah. Elijah is jealous of the way Billy seems to defy age.
  • lovely_ambition: (Default)
    In the wake of Seven Sins, I'm reminded...I still have other fic. Okay. So, goals by the end of July are to finish up Control, write another two parts of Being The Enemy's Friend, and assorted other fics.


    Hollywood Embassy #13:
  • Write before July 10th


    On The Pull
  • Premise: What happens when Orlando, Billy, and Dom go on the pull, and everyone wants Orlando. Why, Dom and Billy turn to each other for "comfort".

    Snippet: “Perfect,” Dom muttered. “Just bloody perfect.” He sat back and crossed his arms in a frustrated gesture of the situation. The clinking of glasses on the bar behind him did nothing to distract him, and Billy sat on the stool beside him.

    “What is?”

    “We came to the one bar in which everyone knows Orlando,” he said and gestured grandly in the elf’s direction, although you couldn’t tell he was there being surrounded by the number of fine young women as he was. “And no one knows us. Bastard.”
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    Okay, quick idea and I don't want to lose it.

    Casey/Zeke, science class.

    Casey drops something under the lab benches (pencil, something small) and is all fretted because it's Zeke beside him and he doesn't want to disturb class.

    "Aren't you going to get that?" Zeke asks after a moment has passed and Casey is sure that he's begun to sweat the first drop of buckets. He forces a weak smile.

    "No," he responds with a squeak.

    Flash to that night where he comes back to retreve it and finds Zeke there. Stuff happens. After the event, they never sit together in science again.
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    So, in times where I actually log work, I'm reminded of stuff that's been sitting in my Documents folder for months. Stuff like the comedy. Reminder to self; it's funny. Write it.

    Setting
  • Present day. Gandalf did a magic trick when someone pissed him off and now the entire Middle Earth has been transported to our day and age.

    Character List

  • Sam: A ladies' man on the outside, ubergay at heart. He only comes on to Frodo when no one else is around which causes everyone to question Frodo’s sanity (again). He is the school's ‘horticulturalist’.

  • Frodo: The nerd, studying history to become a history scholar, could get anyone with seductive eyes, but too naïve to notice.

  • Legolas: The tag-along to Haldir’s elf frat, tries to sleep his way to the top, but fails. He is, in essence, Haldir’s bitch

  • Gimli: A football jock with serious psychological issues

  • Merry & Pippin: The party boys, and also the school sluts. They wind up sleeping together every time they get drunk together but constantly deny their love.

  • Aragorn: A paranoid shut-in loner who rarely goes to class and is haunted by Boromir’s spirit. Constantly says to him, “None of this would have happened if you had just…lived!” even when other people who can't see Boromir are in the room.

  • Gandalf: The dean, somehow winds up drunk in his students dorms with no explanation as to how he got there.

  • Elrond: A professor who sleeps with his students, everytime a door is open to a random student's room...Elrond is inside.

    And a loverly snippet:

    “Don’t you remember what happened last time anyone pissed Gandalf off?” Legolas hissed to Gimli, and then backed away after he caught a whiff of the dwarf.

    “I do remember indeed. He up and transported all of Middle Earth into this ungodly time and place.” Gimli absentmindedly tossed a football up and down. “Although, this hobby isn’t so bad. What’s it called again, Ori?”

    “Hut!” A dwarf piped in.

    “Hut!” Another added.

    “Hike!” A third finished, and the entire team grunted, causing Legolas to shudder and close his eyes at the assembled line and the assembled smell.
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    Random quotes that have been filtering through my brain. Also, my lyric of the moment: "The first thing that you want, would be the last thing you ever need." (Wilco) It could possibly be applied to the Seven Sins fic...maybe.


    Random Rosencrantz and Guildenstern quotage for the fic I'm planning for [livejournal.com profile] hjartad. Don't have the quotes assigned yet though; worrisome.

    "I hope you understand it'll be a cold day in hell when I wear those tights."

    "Well, then, Satan must be shivering, because that wetsuit of yours looks quite a bit like those tights to me."



    Random passage: no idea what fic it will be used in yet, although there's a variety of choices. Possibly something darker, more revolving around blood. Quite possibly, actually, this might wind up in my planned Gunn/Wes fic.

    ...blood burning with lust, fire and sparking as it thrummed and soared in his veins.


    And finally, the fic that won't shut up. Change it to Checks and Balances. Have two separate pieces at the moment.

    #1: They work on a system of fire and ice; when John gets a little cocky, goes a little crazy with the exhibitionism, Bobby and Marie have kept him in.

    #2: A little giggle and Marie covers her mouth to hold back a louder laugh as they secretly duck around the corner in the halls of the museum. Bobby pins John to the wall and siphons out some of the heated rage that was present only seconds ago. Marie is always a step back, just in John's line of sight.

    As ice surrounds his wrists and binds him to the wall, a devious smirk begins to light up John's face as wisps of smoke rise from the ice as it begins to melt against the heat of his body.

    "Well, Rogue, what should I do?" Bobby asked, a step back from John with his back to Marie. Her face twists into a devious smile, and she walks up to John. Her hand ghosts along his cheek (not quite touching) and John can feel the air that gently breezes past his skin. He gives a little snarl as his eyes go wild at the feeling of being trapped, and then she steps back.

    "Let one hand free," she murmurs, and resumes her position behind Bobby.
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