Red's Random Journal

Fanart? Wut?

2008-03-26T00:50:33Z

Title: The Sweet and the Bitter
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Arwen
Rating: G
Prompt: Passing
Notes: Just a quick sketch. :D

3/100

A Year at Briar Crest High, Chapters 4 & 5

2007-12-18T05:02:03Z

Title: A Year at Briar Crest High
Chapters: 4 and 5
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: General
Rating: Somewhere between PG and PG-13
Notes: LotR charries in high school. See all the love, angst, humor and dramady HERE.

Chapter 4: Hands, Happiness and Hypotheticals

Chapter 5: Relationship Hell

Again, dumping.

2007-12-15T22:28:44Z

So, Sci-Fi Channel's Tin Man was inspiring enough to get my out of my drawing slump, so I just posted hecka pages from my sketchbook on DeviantART.

Fandom: Tin Man
Characters: Mostly Glitch and DG
Rating: G
Notes: Yay for sketchy randomness!

Dancing

Wanna Dance?

Sketch Dump 1

Sketch Dump 2

Alternate Ending

Plus, random sketches that fit no catagory: FOUND HERE.

Serious DUMP. No joke.

2007-06-13T00:27:53Z

So, haven't been on in an incredibly long time. Due to whatever lame excuse I currently can't come up with. (Craziness with play? School? Rabid hampsters?) Anyway, thought I'd drag some stuf out of its dusty corner in hopes that keeping up with my Livejournal will somehow inspire me to actually do things more. *sigh* Highly unlikely, but still.

Anyway, this fine day we have a new and improved batch o' Tarot cards, a story, and possibly some random doodles. (I may change my mind when I'm uploading).

Title: Companions
Fandom: None, actually a creative story for once.
Characters: You'll see... ;)
Rating: Uh... PG-13 for tavern-type scenes.
Notes: Written for school, like most things. A supposed "short story," though I ended up two hundred words over the limit.

COMPANIONS

It was her favorite dress. Floor length satin, it was soft as rose petals and the same pale pink color. The overskirt was cut asymmetrically, revealing a darker underskirt of the same shimmering fabric. It was girded with a delicately crafted golden belt that twisted in elaborate swirls and designs. She liked the way the dress swished when she walked, barely grazing the stone floor, softly brushing her legs. At that moment, she especially liked the way the soft gossamer sleeves sparkled in the afternoon sunlight as it streamed into her open-air carriage. The carriage itself was as luxurious as her dress, barely bouncing as they moved down the cobbled streets of Bayllian’s merchant district. The young woman stared out the window as the carriage traveled down the winding street toward the harbor, a look of regal boredom playing across her angelic features. The carriage slowed to a halt outside a large, two story house, which seemed out of place among the poorer taverns and merchants’ shops. It was expensive looking, yet it hid its extravagance under the pretense of modesty. It was freshly painted a bright white; the salty sea breeze had yet to peel the paint like on the other buildings. The exposed beams were carved and gilded with intricate designs, and the slate roof had been recently scrubbed. The mahogany door had veins of gold running up and down it, forming twisting, spiraling patterns. The effect was beautiful.

One of the footmen opened the low door of the carriage and extended a hand to help the girl down. The silken hem of her dress brushed against her ankles, revealing a dainty foot in a pink slipper as the Princess Aleila, Heir to the Throne of Kathar, stepped lightly onto the worn stone doorstep. Her maidservant, Becki, followed without any help, winking at the footman.
The inside of the house was as extravagant as the outside, and fitting for the resident. Lord Darius was one of the richest men in Kathar, and would only accept the finest of everything, especially in his choice of a wife. Which, of course, is why he was courting Aleila. Lord Darius was a tall, handsome man, his dark curling hair tied back neatly at the base of his neck. He stretched out a thin, pale hand to greet Aleila, bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss. She smiled, as did he. It was polite, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

Darius led the princess down through the main hall, a spectacular room lit by candles in sparkling sconces on the wall. The cold of the worn stone floor seeped through Aleila’s slippers. She could see tiny sparkling gems set between the stones. The walls were paneled with a many-toned wood, probably from the forests in the south of Kathar. A few doors led off from the hallway. Lord Darius led Aleila and Becki through the last one on the left, a set of double doors that led into the sitting room.
A row of richly curtained windows on the opposite wall faced east, toward the harbor. The curtains were drawn back, filling the room with a soft, pleasant light. Aleila followed Darius into the room, moving from the stone floor of the hall onto the soft rugs of the sitting room. She sat gracefully on the settee, while Becki pulled up a chair in the corner, intent on paying the least amount of attention required of a chaperone.
For the next few hours, the conversation wandered its way through the few subjects considered appropriate for a lady to discuss. Aleila found most of it extremely dull, but Lord Darius was young and handsome, and in her opinion a good match, so she smiled appropriately, laughed her perfect, tinkling laugh at all the right times and seemed genuinely interested in every word that left his mouth. After the first hour or so, one of Lord Darius’ many servants brought in drinks, which broke the monotony for a while. Around sunset, Becki signaled that it was time for them to depart. The princess graciously thanked her host, and, in perfect politeness, he gave her no more than another kiss on the hand in parting.
Her carriage had been pulled up in the large alleyway between Lord Darius’ house and the tavern next door. Becki ran ahead to collect the footman from where he had been waiting in the tavern. Aleila waited by the carriage, gently smoothing out her skirt where it had become wrinkled from sitting. The sun was almost down now, and the buildings sent long shadows across the cobbled streets. From here she could see down to the harbor, with its many ships and traders. Up the street, at the top of the city by the wall, was the castle, its high stone walls lit from behind by the last rays of the setting sun and—
A hand closed over Aleila’s mouth, an arm snaking around her waist and dragging her backwards. She tried to scream, but the hand was pressed to firmly over her mouth, calloused and bitter. She couldn’t see behind her; she couldn’t turn around. A gag was shoved in her mouth; the fabric was coarse and tasted like ashes. Someone pulled her arms roughly behind her back, another tying her hands with a too-tight piece of rope that bit into her small wrists. The two men dragged her further into the alley, throwing her forcefully into a cart, so that she hit the back. Her vision flickered, ears ringing and head throbbing where it had hit the hard wood. She vaguely recalled the two men--she could see them now--tying her ankles together, before her world dissolved into darkness.

+++++

A wave of smoke and raucous laughter washed over Ceciline as she pulled open the heavy wooden door of the Clown and Bard, one of Bayllian’s less acceptable taverns. A large oven in the kitchen behind the counter was filling the room with pungent smoke as bits of whatever was cooking dribbled into the flames. The noise was overpowering, especially for Ceciline, who had grown used to the relative quiet of the Academy. It was strange that it was barely two miles away; to Ceciline, the Academy and everything in it already seemed like another life. Not that that the smoke or noise seemed to bother too many people, as the tavern was home to what must have been the entire city’s population of vagrants and vagabonds. A couple of mercenaries arguing at a table; a young boy picking the pockets of the crowd; a trio of well-dressed courtesans examining Bayllian’s poorer clientele. Exactly the kind of people that Ceciline had always placed herself above. She sighed heavily, cursing whatever powers had landed her in this low of a place, and made her way over to the bar in search of a drink.
The patrons formed a wall around the counter, but Ceciline managed to push her way through and order a mug of ale from the grumpy looking bartender. She passed him a small silver coin—one of her last—and received a surly glare instead of change. Making her way back through the crowd, she felt the back of her neck prickle. She looked around, but it was impossible to tell in the crowd who she had Felt. As she moved further out of the crowd, around the bar, the prickling was replaced by the horrible certainty that everything was going terribly wrong.
Trying to shake the feeling off, Ceciline found a seat near one of the few small windows, which still let in a few rays of the setting sun despite the grime. Desperate for a little fresh air, she fiddled with the latch, but no amount of brute force or whispered incantations would budge it. Feeling more depressed by the minute, Ceciline stared hopelessly around the denizens of the tavern; the drunks, the whores, the thieves. If she was so much better than them, how did she end up like this?

Kacey left his argument with the other mercenary feeling defeated, which he was. Not only that, but he was once again out of a job, and feeling in desperate need of a drink and some pleasurable company. Sidling up to the counter, he sat on one of the stools and dug the last of his money out of his purse. A woman in a revealing blouse sat next to him, sending him a smoldering look. Kacey looked down at the one coin in his hand, back at the woman, and then over at the barrels of mead behind the counter, weighing his options. With a sigh, he passed the coin over the counter to the bartender, and collected his cup of mead. A pretty young woman was sitting alone at a table in the corner, so Kacey swaggered over to her.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ in a place like this?”
Ceciline looked up at the man who was leering down at her. She knew instantly he was a mercenary. Hired muscle was practically written all over him, from the huge broadsword strapped to his back to his crude demeanor. His chest was covered with thick leather armor, and a black cloth pouch was attached to his belt. Ceciline was as sure that it was empty of coins as she was that the merc wasn’t looking at her face. She glared disapprovingly, but he pulled up a chair and sat beside her. Ceciline sighed. “What do you want?”

“I’d start wi’ the pleasure of yore company fer a drink or two.” Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he winked.
She hated him instantly. “If I gave the ‘pleasure of my company’ to every lowlife who asked, I’d get more company than Bayllian’s best courtesan.” Kacey blinked, taken aback both by her pompous attitude and polished speech. “That was a no.”

Ceciline was lucky. Her hatred was suddenly mutual.

+++++

To Raoul, the Clown and Bard seemed like a likely candidate for a good drink, considering that there were people were spilling out onto the street, staggering drunkenly. The tall, underfed youth looked east across the water, to where the moon was rising. Pale in comparison to the setting sun, a waxing gibbous, it would probably be full the next night. Raoul checked the pouch attached to his belt to see if he had enough money for a drink, and finding that he had at least two coins to rub together, began his quest to get to the bar.

Upon finally making his way through the crowd, Raoul grabbed a light ale from the bartender, and looked around the tavern for an empty table. A seat at the bar would only encourage him to spend the few coins he had left from his stint with the mummer’s troupe on more ale. Brushing his shaggy dark hair out of his eyes, he scanned the room. There was a seat—but no, it was at a table with a dark robed figure that looked like he might murder someone in their sleep. Not exactly the drinking partner Raoul was looking for. Across the room, one of the other previously empty chairs had just been taken by an exotically dressed whore, intent on finding a client. That left the seat by the window, where a slender woman was glaring over her glasses at a muscular man, who was drinking heavily and staring back at her. Raoul wended his way through the crowd and slipped into the last empty chair. Neither the woman nor the man seemed to be in the mood to talk, so Raoul remained silent. He stared down at the table, which was knife scarred and stained in places, his amber eyes flicking up occasionally to observe the other two at the table. The woman’s clothes were plain, a simple skirt paired with a bodice and shirt. Her reddish hair was cut straight at shoulder length, and a long piece of it hung in front of her face. Despite her average appearance, Raoul could see that her necklace—half hidden in her blouse—bore the starburst that was the mark of a student at the Academy. It was glowing faintly. Glancing quickly at the man, Raoul found that the mercenary was already staring at him. Slightly unnerved, Raoul looked away, and continued nursing his drink in silence.

A few hours and a few too many drinks later, Raoul made a stab at conversation.
“S’ that necklace y’ got there.” He pointed to Ceciline’s pendant. “Why’sit all glowy?”
“Y’mean thish?” She tried to focus on the necklace, not used to drinking much at all. “S’magic. Glows ‘cause…” She hiccupped. “’Cause I ish magic. Not much, jus’ s’little.”
“S’that why yore all pompous and fanciful, ‘cause yore from ta ’Cademy?”
Ceciline just attempted to glare at Kacey, and drank some more.

Another hour or so passed, and more drinks were passed around.
“’Snot fair, y’know?” Ceciline mumbled, taking another huge gulp of her mead, “I had… power, f’real… power.”
“You couldn’t do real magic, n’ that’s why y’ were kicked out,” said Raoul, or at least, that’s what he meant to say. What actually came out was more along the lines of “Mmmcudint do rallmajk, bwhy y’icked dout.”
“I can to, I can See y’ brain…” she giggled hysterically, pointing at Kacey. “Yur person shaped, anna you,” she pointed to Raoul, “Y’re worlf shped.” She giggled again, and lay her head on the table.
It was near midnight, and the tavern had emptied significantly. The whore had disappeared with her client, but the robed figure was still sitting, staring into the fire. The heavy drinkers at the bar also remained, until they become so loud and violent that they were thrown out. At the table by the window, the three strangers had let alcohol loosen their tongues and were now regaling each other with their sob stories.
“’Sleast y’ could get a job,” muttered Kacey, who could hold his liquor better than the other two. “Been outta work fer ages…”
“’Snot true, n’I can’t ge’ a job, ‘ways fire me f’eatin’ sheeper cus’omers.” Raoul hiccupped.
“Imma get more mead…” Ceciline mumbled, attempting to stand.
“No, no, no,” the bartender said hastily, hurrying over to their table. “Y’ three ‘r done, an’ I don’ wanna see y’ back here fer a good long time, y’ hear?”
Somehow, the three of them managed to stumble out, and around into the alley by the tavern where Ceciline said she had a horse and cart. Kacey, being the most sober, unhitched the horse from the post and steered the cart off down the road and out of the city. Raoul and Ceciline, both still fantastically drunk, sat on either side, giggling until they passed out.

“Mmm, where am I?”
Ceciline groaned and opened her eyes, immediately regretting it and shutting them again. Her head was pounding, and it felt twice its size. Shading her eyes with a hand, she risked opening her eyes again, blinking a few times. She was sitting on the front bench of her cart, in the middle of a field, in the middle of nowhere. Squeezing her eyes closed and reopening them, she tried to take in her surroundings. Grass and green countryside stretched all around, dotted with a few trees here and there. She could barely see the distant city of Bayllian to the east; the sparkling waters of the Wash were close, so she assumed they were somewhere near the town of Trey. Ceciline looked to her right. There was the mercenary who had harassed her at the tavern, still sleeping, and… she remembered drinking. A lot. Feeling frustrated and more than a little lost, she gave Kacey a good shove. He woke instantly, far more used to hangovers than Ceciline, and turned to glare at her.
“What?”
“You bastard! You got me drunk!”
Kacey blinked. “Don’ think I did, though I can’t say it ain’t a good idea.”
“You— You exploited my grief at being expelled! You--”

“I did not, y’ were the one that paid fer the drinks!”

“You used my money to get me drunk?!”
Raoul rolled over in the back of the cart, not quite sure how he had ended up back there. Ceciline and Kacey’s screaming match was bringing him out of peaceful unconsciousness. Opening one eye vaguely, he found himself face to face with a beautiful blonde, gagged and tied hand-and-foot. Her eyelids fluttered and opened, revealing sparkling blue eyes.
She screamed.
Or at least attempted to. The dark cloth shoved into her mouth muffled most of the noise. Raoul sat up quickly, making his head spin. His gaze moved from the exquisite beauty next to him to Kacey and Ceciline sitting on the bench. They were both flushed red, their faces just inches apart. Raoul’s head felt like it was stuffed with wool, he couldn’t remember why there would be a girl tied up in the back of their cart. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place her.
“Uh, hello?” Raoul questioned. The arguing continued. He climbed over onto the bench next to Ceciline. “Hey!” His two companions finally realized he was there. “There’s kind of a girl. Tied up.” Kacey and Ceciline stared blankly at him. “In the back.” Raoul jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Simultaneously, the mercenary and the mage turned and looked in the back.
There she was, curled on her side and staring tearfully up at them. Her elaborate gown was ripped along the hem and her golden hair was tangled. A large dark cloth lay partially over her—it had probably slipped off during their ride out of Bayllian. She pleaded through her gag, but the words were too muffled to understand. Large glistening tears leaked out of her eyes.
The three companions turned slowly around, all with identical expressions of mingled disbelief and horror.
Raoul had just remembered where he recognized the girl from.

“We kidnapped the princess,” Raoul said frantically, “We kidnapped the princess!”
Kacey, Raoul and Ceciline had moved away from the cart to stand under a nearby tree. They had left the Aleila where she was, and kept looking furtively over, hoping that no passerby would realize that the crown princess of the realm was tied up in the back of their cart. They were lucky. This stretch of road was far enough away from the city that travelers rarely frequented it. The road was practically overgrown with grass from the surrounding meadow.
“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t gotten me drunk,” Ceciline said with a glare at Kacey, “I would have know which cart was mine and we wouldn’t be in this situation. Now I know the consequences of fraternizing with those beneath me.”
“Beneath you?” Raoul asked sharply. “Y’ don’t have anythin’ to wave over our heads; you ain’t part of your precious mage school anymore.” Ceciline blanched, but was silent.

Kacey was staring back over at the cart. “I don’ see why we ain’t just gonna tie ‘er up and leave ‘er.”
“What? She’s a princess, y’ don’t just tie princess up and leave ‘em, that’s— that’s not how people do things, which o’course you wouldn’t know anythin’ about. And anyway, what about the people who actually kidnapped her? What if they find her?”
“Yore missin’ the part where I don’ care if she gets eaten by wolves, I jus’ don’ want to be put in the dungeon fer a crime I ain’t committed. I got pleny that I did commit fer that.”
“I’m sure if we just explain things to her…” Ceciline put in.
“’Cept for the fact that she said that she’d have us arrested an’ killed,” Raoul countered. “I tried that while you two were arguin’.”
But Ceciline suddenly wasn’t paying any attention to either of the men. She was staring vaguely in the direction of the road they had traveled on. Then, just as suddenly, she turned back to them. “We have to leave. Now.”
“What? Why?”
“The King’s guards are searching for the princess, they’ll be here soon. And… someone else is looking for her. I… think… it’s the man who captured her in the first place, he’s powerful, and… dangerous.” Her face paled. “We have to go.”
“How d’ you know all this?”
“I can See them, here, only in the future.” The men still looked blank. “I told you, I’m clairvoyant.”
“You said you could see my brain…”
“I was drunk, can you just trust me? We do not want to be here.”

“I still think we should tie ‘er to a tree an’ leave ‘er…”

It was half a day’s journey to Trey. By the time the company arrived, the sun had set and the once favorable weather had changed for the worse. A steady torrent of rain beat down on the three on the front seat of the cart, so that they were drenched within minutes. Raoul’s shaggy hair was flattened to his head and hung in his eyes, so he looked vaguely reminiscent of a wet dog. Kacey sat hunched moodily against the rain, glaring at Ceciline. After a few failed attempts, she had managed to manipulate the rain so that it kindly avoided her altogether, and was looking very smug, as well as very dry.
Raoul glanced over his shoulder at the most miserable of their group. Aleila was huddled in a corner in the back, showing such an impressive display of waterworks as to rival the rain. She was still bound and gagged—Kacey had insisted that she couldn’t be trusted--despite Raoul’s protests that she would have nowhere to go. The rain had covered the bottom of the cart, so that Aleila was sitting in a mud puddle, water soaking through her dress and into her shoes.
The cart bounced uncomfortably as Kacey steered it off the main road and down the town’s muddy excuse of a high street. Kacey immediately found the town’s one tavern, being familiar with almost every establishment that served alcohol in Kathar. He pulled the cart around the back and tied the poor, tired horse in the stable.

The Broken Prayer was significantly smaller and less busy than the tavern in the capital city, but apart from that it was the same. There’s little that can be different about taverns, despite being miles apart. The same smoky and run-down atmosphere met the four companions as they walked through the door. (Aleila couldn’t be left in the cart lest she be found, and Kacey’s graphically violent threats seemed to be succeeding in their goal to keep the girl quiet and close by). None of the customers spared a glance for the rag-tag band that had just entered, too deep into their cups to notice much of anything. The bar was in the right corner of the room, a few rickety wooden stools pulled up to the counter. The rest of the dim, windowless room was filled with a few tables that had seen too much use. Raoul found an empty one in a corner of the room that was badly lit with cheap tallow candles. He pulled up a chair, almost dragging the princess into the seat next to him. Ceciline remained standing, looking around and wondering why they were in a tavern again, if a tavern was what had got them all into this mess in the first place. Kacey was already at the bar, ordering the stiffest drink they had and leering crudely at the buxom barmaid. He paid her extra, though, when she handed him his drink, and she smiled at him before going back to washing glasses.

Raoul glanced at Aleila. She looked almost in shock, staring at her delicate hands in her lap. Her hair had begun to come out of its intricate braid, and the edge of her dress was torn and muddy.
“My father will arrest you,” she said quietly to her hands, as though she could make it true by repeating it.
Raoul tried to reply, but he couldn’t really think of anything to say, and his sentences didn’t seem to get passed the first word. “I-- you-- we--”
“We know,” Kacey said, slamming his mug of mead on the table. Ceciline jumped, and glared at him. “But it ain’t goin’ ta make things all flowers n’ bunnies for us if he does, and these two ’ere won’t let me leave ya tied to a tree, so yore stuck with us fer now, princess.” He grinned meanly at Aleila, and she sniffled and looked back at her lap. Kacey took another huge drink from his glass and looked back across the room, where the barmaid was leaning over to put something under the bar.
Raoul joined Ceciline in glaring at Kacey. “Y’know, for someone who’s so fond of women, y’ sure don’t treat them very well. You might want to work on your manners too, y’ never know who you’re goin’ to offend and…” He quailed under Kacey’s pointed look. “I’ll just… shut up now.”

They sat in silence for a while, Aleila still sniffling quietly; Raoul now drinking his own cup of ale. Ceciline opened her mouth to say something, but shut it suddenly. The King’s guards where approaching; she could See them as though she were there, riding down the road towards Trey. After a minute, the hoof beats could be heard and her companions froze as well, listening. The tension in the air was palpable as the three companions waited with baited breath. Outside, the noise of the guards could be heard more clearly; horses whinnying, men shouting. Kacey was muttering a whispered prayer as he very carefully began to free the broadsword on his back from its straps, though what kind of god would listen to a man like Kacey, none could guess. Ceciline was breathing rapidly, eyes wide and panicked. Raoul watched the door. They sat there in silence as time trickled by, impossibly slow. A minute passed. It did not seem as though the guards were going to check the tavern. Raoul was just breathing a soft sign of relief when Aleila screamed; a piercing, desperate cry for help. Her only hope of rescue was just outside that door and she was not going to let it get away. Raoul clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Kacey let out a string of creative curses that would have made Ceciline blush had she not been so terrified. Outside, the guards halted, reining in their horses. The once oblivious patrons of the tavern looked up from their drinks and at the corner where the princess sat. There was silence, then…
The tavern door was smashed roughly open as six of the King’s guards rushed in. The tavern’s customers scattered, pushing to get out of the way, save a black-cloaked figure who—unnoticed by the others—advanced behind the guards. Kacey stood up so fast he knocked over his chair. He was too close to the wall to free his sword, so he braced his back against the wall, put his foot against the edge of the table and shoved it into the first three of the oncoming guards. Raoul grabbed the princess by the waist, hand still over her mouth, and pulled her back into the hall, away from the action. Stepping away from the wall, Kacey drew his sword, advancing on the guards as they struggled to stand. Behind him, Ceciline’s pendant began to glow with a fierce brightness. She was looking across the room at the cloaked figure, the breath catching in her throat. They had to leave… now. The figure’s hands were moving quickly as he muttered an incantation that Ceciline couldn’t make out. A ball of energy was forming between his hands, black as night and laced with streaks of crimson fire.
In the center of the room, three of the guards had surrounded Kacey. The first swung at him, but the mercenary brought his sword sharply upward, blocking with enough force to send the guard reeling backwards. Spinning around, he swung at the guard on his left, his sword biting into the man’s armor. Bringing his arm back hard, Kacey smashed his elbow into the face of the guard behind him before charging full-fledged into the fray.
Ceciline’s eyes were wide with fright. No matter how many years she had spent at the Academy, nothing she had learned could prepare her for an actual battle. Her hands were shaking as she raised a shield; just in time too, for the other mage sent his crackling, glowing sphere at her. It hit the shield, which flickered and dissolved. The cloaked figure’s hands were already busy with another spell. This time, Ceciline’s whispered incantation only succeeded in making the energy bolt stronger, and she had to duck out of the way to avoid it. It whizzed over her head and blasted a hole through the wall behind her, near where Raoul sat huddled by the princess, unsure of whether to stay and fight or take the girl and leave. Ceciline moved forward, trying to take the offensive. A thousand tiny sparkles of white fire leapt from her hands, but disintegrated into shimmering dust before they even reached the mage, making the floor of the tavern glitter.
Kacey was all fists and flashing steel, throwing a guard into a table with practiced ease. The table cracked and the guard collapsed, unconscious, on the floor. Two other guards lay unconscious or wounded at Kacey’s feet. One of the remaining guards attacked, swinging wildly. Steel rang out against steel as Kacey’s sword blocked the guard’s, the hilts catching.
Ceciline’s second attempt at an attack had succeeded only in setting fire to a barrel of mead behind the counter, the next melted a chair, and the last had not effect at all. She was back on the defensive, the cloaked mage firing spell after spell at her.
Kacey was still struggling with the guard, but another one was attacking, swinging down toward Kacey‘s right side. Letting go of his sword with one hand, but still keeping the other guard’s blade locked with his, he grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting until he heard a crack and the man’s sword clattered to the floor.
Ceciline threw up another shield, only to have it dissolve again. Kacey kicked the guard in the stomach, and he stumbled away, winded. The mage was advancing now, slowly gliding towards Ceciline. Sword now free, Kacey circled the guard. Behind him, completely unnoticed, the guard who’s wrist Kacey had broken was using his left hand to pull a small dagger from it’s sheath. Ceciline sent her own spell at the mage, but it fizzled into nothingness upon hitting him. The guard raised the dagger…
“Kacey!”
Ceciline had seen the guard. Kacey spun, and knocked the dagger out of the man’s hand, but a cry kept him from returning to the fight. In the split second that it had taken for Ceciline to turn her head and shout, the mage had struck. A ball of dark, crackling energy caught Ceciline in the stomach, lifting her off the floor and slamming her into the wall. She slid down, landing in a heap on the floor. She lay as limp and still as a doll, a trickle of scarlet decorating her forehead.
Raoul rose quickly, grabbing the princess. Whatever hopes he had of being on the winning side of this fight were gone. Now the cloaked mage was advancing on Kacey, along with the three guards who could still stand. The guards would have been no problem; it was the shadowy energy swirling around the mage’s hands that worried Raoul. Kacey was backing up slowly, broadsword held out in front of him. Loosening his dagger from its sheath, Raoul balanced it in his hand, feeling the weight of it. A year spent juggling knives and other dangerous objects in a mummer’s troupe had given him excellent aim. With a smooth motion, he threw it, watching as it spun in a perfect arc and buried itself in the cloaked figure’s shoulder. Whatever spell he’d been conjuring evaporated instantly. Knowing when it was time for a strategic retreat, Kacey bent down and slung the lifeless form of Ceciline over his shoulder, still walking backwards to keep the guards at a distance. Raoul and Aleila led the way down the candlelit hall and out the back door into the stables.
Kacey closed the heavy wooden door behind them, leaning a shoulder against it. His arms were cut in a few places and a slash on his thigh was bleeding profusely, but he didn’t seem to notice. There was nowhere to go. Getting the horses would take too much time. Across a short expanse of grass was the forest that bordered Trey; the light from the tavern barely illuminated a few branches. With a nod of agreement, they ran towards it; Raoul dragging the princess along behind him and Kacey still carrying Ceciline in his arms.
The forest was dark and still very damp from the rain. Kacey lay her on the leaf-strewn ground, slapping her less than gently into wakefulness. She blinked a few times, sitting up slowly and rubbing her head. Her eyes focused on something in the field and she gasped.
Raoul had stopped in the middle of the field, letting Aleilia run ahead of him. Despite the sounds of their pursuers from the tavern, he stood motionless, staring at the sky. The dark clouds that for so long had blanketed the sky were parting, revealing a bright, full moon.
The three of them stared—Ceciline and Aleila in horror, Kacey in mild interest—at Raoul. He had crumpled to his knees, the to all fours, shaking violently. He clenched his hands in the grass, fingers digging into the soft earth. No.. I can’t change… I won’t… But he could feel the edges of his mind blurring, falling away into shadow. And then there was pain, like a thousand flakes of burning ash all over his skin. He might have screamed, but it turned into a howl; a long, mournful cry that send shivers down Ceciline’s spine. Hands into paws; nose into snout; dark fur sprouting on his face, his arms.
And then it was over, and all that remained was the howl and the moon and the smell of blood.
Aleila screamed, alerting the second figure moving across the grass. Now he was advanancing too, bearing down on them faster than seemed possible. Kacey watched, weighing his options. There was no way they could win against a powerful dark mage and an angry looking werewolf who had just caught their scent. Ceciline gritted her teeth, determined to take a stand.
Kacey turned to her. “Run.”
“What? I’m am not going to leave you here to die, you stupid—“
“I ain’t stayin’.”
“We have to fight!”
He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to convince her. Kacey tried her up, but she latched onto a tree branch before he could bend down to carry her off. They glared at each other. Cursing her stubbornness, Kacey did something that—even with her foresight—she didn’t expect.
He kissed her.
Ceciline’s eyes went wide, her hand slipping from the branch. As soon as he was sure Ceciline was completely detached from the tree, Kacey broke away, and threw the slender mage over his shoulder, carrying her to safety.
Aleila, now alone, stood at the edge of the woods, terrified. She turned to run, but her dress caught on something—a root, or a low branch maybe—ripping horribly, but still rendering her incapable of running anywhere. She huddled at the base of the tree, crying silently. She could see the wolf’s glowing eyes staring at her, could almost feel its hot breath on her face. Her original kidnapper seemed to have no problem with his hostage being eaten. Aleila closed her eyes…
There was a snarling; the thump of a body being shoved to the ground; a scream.
Aleila opened her eyes. At the last minute the wolf had turned, leaping at the cloaked mage, all fangs and claws and ripping throats. The wolf looked up a Aleila, its muzzle covered in blood. The figure lay still. The wolf—Raoul, Aleila thought—padded over to her, so close that it was dripping blood on her skirt. She opened her mouth to scream, but stopped. The wolf had nuzzled her cheek, leaving a streak of crimson. Aleila blinked, still unsure why she hadn’t been torn to bits, and the wolf curled up besides her, laying its bloody head in her lap.

+++++

“I still can’t believe you left me to die,” Aleila was saying over the noise of the Clown and Bard to her three companions. She was supposed to be visiting Lord Darius, but she had snuck away from Becki.
“Hey, y’ weren’t in danger,” Raoul objected. Ceciline looked over her glasses at him, but her disapproving glare was watered down with the amount of alcohol she had consumed. “Y’know, werewolves ain’t the monsters most people think they are.”
Aleila laughed her perfect, tinkling laugh. Kacey said something about thinking something to the contrary, and Ceciline shoved him playfully.
And then they were kissing and Raoul was laughing and Aleila was wearing a plain brown skirt and blouse; she had thrown away her dress.

So, for my tarot deck, I swapped XME for LOTR so as to have all live action pictures. (Plus, I like Lord of the Rings better). Here are the new (and improved) cards. Just the suit of Swords for now, since that is the only one I've completely finished:

Looks like I changed my mind about the random doodles. Got homework and other stuff to do. See ya

Kurt/Kitty Art [COLORED]

2006-12-24T19:51:59Z

Got around to coloring this sketch FINALLY. So here it is:

Fandom: X-Men: Evolution
Characters: Kurt Wagner and Kitty Pryde
Rating: G
Notes: Colored version of other picture.

Kurt/Kitty

Fanart DUMP. >.>

2006-08-30T03:29:31Z

Title: Homework
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Arwen
Rating: G
Notes: For the fanart100, prompt Work. Teen Arwen is a golden girl.

Title: Prom Night
Fandom: X-Men: Evo
Characters: Jean, Scott, Rogue, Kurt, Kitty.
Rating: G
Notes: Uh... yay for pretty dresses.

Title: Kurt and Kitty
Fandom: X-Men: Evo
Characters: ^^
Rating: G
Notes: Random sketchy doodle.

Tarot batch #1

2006-08-23T19:56:06Z

So, due to boredom and temporary insanity, I have decided to make a four-fandom tarot deck. The Fandoms are Newsies, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, X-Men: Evolution and Firefly. Suits = Cups, Evo; Wands, Firefly; Swords, Buffy; and Pentacles, Newsies.

Batch: #1
Major Aracana: The Fool, Magician, High Priestess, Emperor, Empress, Wheel of Fortune, Star, World
Minor Arcana: 3 of Cups, 6 of Cups, 10 of Cups, 3 of Swords, 7 of Swords.
+ Back.

Teaser:

Scott/Jean, X-Men: Evo, PG

2006-08-02T21:44:23Z

Title: Scott and Jean
Fandom: X-Men: Evolution
Characters: Jean Grey and Scott Summers
Notes: Squeeing fangirl fanart collab between rhymed_reason and myself. (Sketch by RR, line/color by me.)

CLICK FOR PICTURE

X-Men Icon 100: Kurt/Kitty [Table]

2006-07-25T06:39:26Z

1 : Alone	2 : Desire	3 : Playful	4 : The End	5 : Water

6 : Time	7 : Dark	8 : Choices	9 : Light	10 : Trap

11 : Battle	12 : Friendship	13 : Snarky	14 : All That I Am	15 : Land

16 : So Far Apart	17 : Goodbye	18 : Shades of Grey	19 : Hope	20 : Rescue

21 : Beautiful	22 : Lost	23 : Despair	24 : Magical	25 : Naughty

26 : Eyes	27 : Big	28 : Frozen	29 : Funny	30 : Small

31 : Command	32 : Love	33 : Excited	34 : Fire	35 : Rage

36 : Touch	37 : Belief	38 : Loss	39 : Side by Side	40 : Questions

41 : Danger	42 : Pain	43 : WTF!?	44 : Air	45 : Trouble

46 : Power	47 : Old Friends	48 : Regret	49 : Hate	50 : Temptation

Unexpected Kiss [colored]

2006-07-21T20:33:50Z

Colored version of previous Newsies fanart. Whee!

Title: Unexpected Kiss
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink and Mush
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Black and white version here.

PICTURE!!

A Year At Briar Crest High, LOTR, Chapters 1,2,3

2006-07-21T06:12:29Z

Ah... the master fanfiction. This soon-to-be-epic fanfiction was written jointly with , started over 2 years ago, and continues to be written on slower than a snail's pace, despite the massive and detailed planning.

Title: A Year At Briar Crest High
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: General.
Rating: Lite PG-13
Summary: The not so epic saga of our favourite LOTR characters as they deal with lessons, love, and life at Briarcrest High. Featuring Lovestruck!Aragorn, Chivalrous!Merry, Tempermental!Eowyn, and Cuter than fluffy bunnies!Pippin

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Newsies - Kid Blink/Mush - 038: Touch

2006-07-21T05:40:30Z

Title: Sleeping Soundly
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink/Mush
Prompt: 038 - Sight
Word Count: 420
Rating: G
Summary: Mush can’t stay awake.

Sleeping Soundly

It had been a good day. Good headline, lots of buyers, every newsie sold all their papers. Racetrack instigated a celebratory game of cards, and proceed to cheat Jack, Crutchy and Bumlets out of their hard-earned cash, which made up for all the money he had spent up at Sheepshead. Jack tried to get David to stay for a hand or two, but he and Les had to go home for dinner. Mush had no interest in poker, so I sat with him on his bunk, and we talked, late into the night.

I love talking with Mush. We stay up, discussing the day’s headlines, or how many papes we sold, or laughing about Race and Jack’s latest taunts at the Delancy brothers. Sometimes if one of us says something even remotely funny, we end up laughing so hard we can’t talk, and the conversation deteriorates until we are just a giggling heap on the foot of Mush’s bed.

Other times we are more subdued, talking about everything and anything until we have nothing left to talk about. Even then we just sit tacitly, in a comfortable silence, no words needed as long as we have each other’s company. I’d stay up all night talking to Mush, if Kloppman didn’t come in around midnight to make sure all the boys are in bed, and yelling at those who are not yet in their own bunks.

So we talked, listening to the curses of the other newsies who were slowly being deprived of their money. Crutchy stopped by to talk for a while--was the first to go broke--but then headed off to his own bunk to sleep. By then it was late, and as hard as Mush had tried to stay awake, he had drifted off to sleep, head resting on my shoulder. I just smiled, looking down at him, watching the moonbeams resting on his face. You never could stay up late, could you.

A breeze blowing through the open window stirred Mush’s brown curls, so that they tickled my neck. I absentmindedly pushed them out of his eyes, my fingers brushing his forehead. I didn’t want to wake him, so I sat motionless, watching him sleep and listening to the quiet voices of the newsies still awake.

The card game had ended and it was just Jack and Race left at the table. I could hear Racetrack’s voice from across the room.

“Hey Jack, d’ya see dat? Mush fell asleep on Blink’s shoulda again…"

9/100

X-Men Evo Fanart, G

2006-06-19T05:46:52Z

A couple of artpad.com doodles of character from the animated TV show X-Men: Evolution. Both of my preferred ships.

Kurt and Kitty

Jean and Scott

Fanart to the Rescue

2006-06-07T03:54:04Z

Some random Blink/Mush fanart for your viewing pleasure. Scene from How I Spent My Summer Vacation. (Good fic, READ.)

Panty Raid crack!fic

2006-04-21T04:16:41Z

Title: Not What it Seemed
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink and Mush
Prompt: 074 - Dark
Word Count: 894
Rating: PG -13
Summary: Apparently, Racetrack thought it would be a fun end of the weekend escapade to attempt a panty raid.
Author's Notes: Even more AU fun. College Newsie, almost crack!fic.

Not What it Seemed

"You guys, this is a bad idea. Maybe we should go back."

"Sounds like Davey’s getting cold feet."

"Y’know, I noticed that last night when--"

"God, we can’t know that!"

"Have it your own way. Not that I mind cold feet, it’s just that when other appendages--"

"SHUT UP, Jack."

It was two in the morning and the entirety of the boy's dormitory--minus Specs and Dutchy--was huddled behind some bushes a few yards away from the front door of the girl’s dorm. Dutchy and Specs had insisted that they would stay behind and "hold down the fort". Racetrack of course, replied with: "If that‘s what you want to call it…" He was then forcefully quieted with a rain of pillows.

Apparently, Racetrack thought it would be a fun end-of-the-week escapade to attempt a panty raid.

Apparently, Race was insane.

"So… do we actually have a plan as to what we’re going to do with the underwear once we acquire it?" Blink asked skeptically.

"Do we have a plan on how we’re going to get inside without waking the girls?" Skittery added.

"Do we even have a plan at all?" David sounded harried.

"No," Race and Jack answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The boys sat in silence for awhile, staring at the imposing dorm. Skittery twitched a few times, especially when a spider crawled over his hand. He would have fled the bug-infested area if Blink had not promised to kill and eat any other insects Skitts saw. Spot was looking around, as if he was rather bored with the whole operation. Mush and Blink were talking quietly. At last, David convinced Jack and Race to come up with some sort of plan, and the two instigators began plotting quietly.

"Isn’t stealing underwear the kind of thing you do to people you don’t like?" Mush asked, somewhat confused.

"Who says we like ‘em?" Spot asked derisively. Everyone ignored him except for Race, who practically lunged at him (chivalrous and gallant knight that he was), but was grabbed by Jack and quieted by a rousing chorus of "Shhhh"s.

Race sat down grumbling. "Who brought him along anyway?"

In answer to Mush’s question, Blink just smiled. "Everyone loves a good vendetta." Then, sensing Mush’s concern, he added, "Don’t worry about it. ‘Biz would forgive you of anything. Even if you killed her puppy with a fork."

"Right. Very comforting, Blink."

David and the instigators of the raid gathered the other boys around them. "Ok, here’s the plan. We sneak in the back door..."

"It’ll be locked."

"…Go into the bedroom…"

"They’ll wake up.’

"…Then open the dresser…"

"They--"

"SKITTERY! Be a little optimistic for once!"

"Thank you Blink," Race said, and--with a glare in Skitt’s direction--continued. "We grab the panties, and get the hell out. Simple as that."

"Even if this works, we’ll consider ourselves lucky if they kill us," Skittery said, sharing his pessimistic views again.

"Yeah, but we’ll die happy," Race proclaimed. Then he paused. "I don’t fancy being attacked by ‘Biz though, she’s dangerous."

"Wimp."

"Hey!"

"Y’know, I really think this is a bad idea."

"Chicken."

"Y’know what--"

"Race, Spot. Cut it out. David, loosen up a bit, will ya?"

"Let’s just get his over with," said David, resigned to his fate.

The boys crept closer to the house, so they were hiding behind a smaller bush. The bulb in the porch light near the door flickered and went out, plunging the yard into darkness.

"What was that?"

"Someone’s standing on my foot!"

"Wasn’t me!"

"Stop leaning on me!"

"OK, who touched my ass?"

"Sorry, thought you were David."

"I’m over here."

"OH MY GOD SOMETHING JUST CRAWLED ON ME!!"

"Shut up!"

"I said, get off me!"

"All of you, BE QUIET!"

A dim light flicked on inside the girl’s dormitory.

"Shit! Everyone back to the dorm!"

There was quite a commotion and much shoving as the boys attempted to get back to safety. In the end, only Skittery got out of the mess in time.

One of the girls, Charlotte, poked her tousled red head around the door frame, flashlight in hand. Apparently, Red and Showbiz were still asleep. Everyone froze behind the bush, except for Jack, who figured he’d have one last kiss with his boyfriend before he died.

Charlotte swept the flashlight over the bush. There was nothing there. Except… A purple Converse was poking out from behind the nearest shrubbery.

"Mush, is that you?"

Mush stood up guiltily, and Blink stood up too. Charlotte raised an eyebrow. Mush had grabbed Blink’s hand when the porch light went out, and hadn’t let go.

"What are you two doing?"

The boys looked guilty. "Uh…"

They were saved by a rustling behind the bush and a muffled "Gerroffme!"

"Who else is out there?"

"No one!" Blink and Mush said simultaneously.

There was more rustling and some muffled cursing. Charlotte pushed past Blink and Mush and shone her flashlight back behind the offending shrub. Then she blinked a few times. Her eyes traveled from Blink and Mush holding hands to David and Jack still making out to Spot and Race attempting to untangle themselves from the bush and each other.

Everyone looked guilty.

"We were just--" Mush started.

"Forget I ever asked," said Charlotte, the words "late-night romp" leaping unconsciously into her mind, "I don’t want to know."

---------

9/100

I Can't Help Myself...

2006-04-19T06:09:09Z

...I just keep writing fanfiction.

Title: Arrivals
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink and Mush (+ others)
Prompt: 064 - Fall
Word Count: 990
Rating: PG -13 (for swearing and general insanity)
Summary: Our Newsie pals arrive for their third year at a prestigious art school.
Author's Notes: More AU for the soul. (Sorry!)

Arrivals

“MUSH!”

Matthew Myers turned on the doorstep of the Van Gogh dorm to see his best friend running full throttle across the campus of the New York Institute of Drama and the Arts, an old backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Kid!” Mush cheered, deftly diving to one side so he wouldn’t be trampled, but could still steal a hug. “It’s good to see you! How was your summer?”

“Great! Though I had to work my ass off to get enough money to come back this year.”

Mush looked his friend over. Ryan “Kid Blink” Ballatt hadn’t changed much in the three months that Mush hadn’t seen him. He was maybe an inch taller, the cuffs of his old jeans just barely brushing the tops of his tennis shoes. He’s let his hair grow out a bit too, so that it hung in his eye. Other than that, it was the same old Blink Mush remembered from the end of sophomore year, still wearing tee shirts that said things like “I eat glue.”

“It’s not fair, y’know,” Blink continued, “I have to work three jobs so I can come back here, stay in a shitty dorm with a million other people, and spend my woodcarving classes slowly mutilating myself with a chisel. While you, you," Blink went on, poking his friend in the chest dramatically, "get a full scholarship because Mrs. Larkson thinks you're the best thing that has happened since sliced bread.” Blink leaned forward. “Are you sure you're not bribing her in any way?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Aw, shut up, you sound just like Race,” Mush said, a grin spreading across his face. “Come on, Jack and David have already claimed the fold-out, so we’d better get inside if we want the loft again.”

.::.

At 5:37, Anthony Higgins pushed open the door of his dorm, and a very familiar sight met his eyes. First, the room was a mess. Half-unpacked suitcases were strewn across almost every bed, indicating that the residents of the Van Gogh Dormitory would have a few new recruits this year. Spread out around the room were four boys, laughing and generally being insane. There was no sign of the new boys; David was in the corner studying (as per usual), Jack was lounging on the sofa, telling a rather narcissistic story to no one in particular (as per usual), and Blink and Mush were hanging off the loft, having a “who-can-stay-upside-down-the-longest” contest (as per usual). Blink’s jaw was clenched and his face scarlet, and Mush was turning a lovely shade of purple. The room was completely devoid of Skittery’s twitchy and sullen presence (as per usual.)

“RACETRACK!” Blink attempted to pull himself up onto the loft, had too much blood rush out of his head at one time, and promptly fell off onto the floor with a loud thud and a string of creative curses. His actions, of course, were met with gales of laughter from the other boys. Mush, more careful and in better shape than Blink, arrived successfully on the loft. He looked concerned, but upon finding that Blink would live, joined in with the laughter.

“You just missed orientation,” said David, not looking up from his book.

“Alas!” cried Race, flinging a hand to his brow, “My life is over!” David grumbled something unintelligible.

“No sane, intelligent person goes to orientation except you, love,” teased Jack, and he flung his lucky red bandana at his boyfriend’s head. Bandanas, however, are not very aerodynamic, and it landed halfway across the room at Race’s feet. Racetrack took this opportunity to speak up--again.

“Soooo… You guys’ll never guess what I did over the summer.” The boys perked up at that. It was one of their many traditions to guess about Race’s escapades. He was the craziest of the five of them, and always had some wild tale to tell.

“You got married.”

“You knocked up your girlfriend.”

"You knocked up your girlfriend, then got married."

“You got kicked out of your house.”

“You made millions of dollars selling your photographs on the internet.”

“You made millions of dollars selling your homemade porn on the internet.”

“BLINK!”

.::.

Whack.

“What?!!”

“Oh, it’s not that bad…” Whack. “I’m sure you’ll survive the first week.”

Whack.

“Some friends you are.”

“Well, what were we supposed to do?”

Whack. “How about somehow making it so that the only bed left for me isn’t under the bed of a homicidal--“ Whack. “--not to mention homophobic--“ Whack. “--asshole who could very possibly murder me in my sleep?”

Mush couldn’t help but laugh as he watched the tennis ball bounce back and forth across the court, the noise of the racquets punctuating their conversation. (Mush was sitting this round out, seeing as Jack and David had other plans, and the boys couldn’t very well play tennis with three people). Racetrack was fuming, due to his limited choice of sleeping space, and Blink was bickering cheerfully right back, the actual game in the very back of their minds. Blink was on the verge of outright laughter, because Racetrack wasn’t paying attention and kept getting hit with the ball.

Whack. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair to make Skittery sleep under Spot again, he’s twitchy enough as it is.”

Whack.

“What happens if I end up as twitchy as Skitts?.”

“Aw, don’t be such a martyr.” Whack. “It’d be hysterical.”

'I could hurt you.”

“Come on, you guys,” implored Mush, interrupting. “Race, you were last to school, it’s just the luck of the draw, not anyone’s fault. Blink, you don’t have to tease him.”

“I know.” Whack. “It was just funny.”

“Fuck you too,” said Race cheerfully. “I’m going to bed.”

Mush grinned too, because not matter what happened, the three of them always stuck together. Silly, sarcastic Racetrack; laid-back Blink and sweet, good-natured Mush. They were the Three Musketeers, and this year wouldn’t be any different.

.::.

9/100

Because Fanfic=love

2006-04-18T16:31:11Z

Title: Pepped
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink and Mush (with other Newsies as well)
Prompt: 26 - Teammates
Word Count: 742
Rating: PG -13 for language.
Summary: Blink hated pep rallies. Of course, he was cursed with a school that had the biggest, most elaborate and (worst of all) loudest sports assemblies ever in the history of the universe.
Author's Notes: More AU fun. I should write some canon stuff sometime.

Pepped

Blink hated pep rallies. Of course, he was cursed with a school that had the biggest, most elaborate and (worst of all) loudest sports assemblies ever in the history of the universe. Seriously. The amount of school spirit was nauseating; Blink didn’t want to see anymore green or yellow for the rest of his life, he was sure. So, Blink sat in the very back of the gym, as far away from the athletic debacle as possible, chatting with Racetrack or writing, and being poked repeatedly in the back of the head by David.

Mush always said that one of the reasons he liked Blink was because Blink always had a smile on his face, however, pep rallies always made that very difficult. They were right up there with someone beating up his friends. Blink didn’t like sports. He didn’t play sports, unless the occasional tennis game with Race and Mush counted for something. His school didn’t even have a tennis team. So why, for the love of all things holy, did he have to come to the fucking rally? He wished he had just skipped the damn thing; it was the end of the day after all.

Seriously, who invented the flag team? Blink was gonna kill them.

The only highlight of the hour was the band. Not only did the school band kick some serious ass, but Mush was in the band. He played clarinet, which Jack claimed was “girly,” but that didn’t stop Mush from being wicked good. When the band had the floor was they only time he looked up from his writing. Other than that, Blink ignored everything that occurred at the assembly. It wasn’t like the junior class needed anymore school spirit.

----

“You didn’t clap for me, Kid,” Jack complained, giving Blink a playful shove.

“True. I hate football.”

“Yes, but you like me, so it shouldn’t matter.”

“Are you always this egotistical,” Race quipped, “Or did you just have a good day?”

“He clapped for Mush,” Jack pouted. Well, didn’t really pout. More like the manly equivalent of pouting.

“Yeah, but Mush has mad clarinet playing skills,” Blink said, a bit defensively.

“Clarinets are girly.”

“Hey!” Blink snapped, his legendary temper flaring up.

It was then that David finally intervened, giving Jack a well deserved smack on the back of the head.

“David,” Jack protested, “Boyfriends aren’t supposed to hit each other.”

“Yes they are,” said Race, lighting up a cigarette, “That’s what boyfriends are for, to keep you in line.”

Finally, the much discussed Mush chose to arrive, escaping from the throng of people leaving the gym and joining the small group. “You’re gonna kill yourself,” he said concernedly to Race. Race shrugged, and Mush turned to Blink, a grin spreading across his face. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Why was talking to Mush suddenly awkward?

Race exchanged a glance with Jack that clearly said something like “Oh God, they should just go out and get it over with.”

“I saw you in the stands,” Mush was saying, “You were actually paying attention.”

“Yeah, well apparently you’re the only one to be worth a glance from Kid here,” Jack said, giving Blink another ‘playful’ shove. “It seems I’m not as important as his budding novel.” It was Race’s turn to slap the back of Jack’s head.

“Hey! What was that for?”

Spot Conlon, always the haughty rebel, took that moment to walk by, distracting Racetrack. Race glared daggers at the boy, like he was trying to telekinetically make his head explode in a raging ball of flame. Jack sent David a sideways glance that clearly said something like “Oh God, they should just shag and get it over with,” and received a smack in return.

Blink, meanwhile, was chatting animatedly with Mush, the momentary awkwardness having evaporated.

“You coming over again today?” Mush asked.

“Of course he is, he practically lives at your house. Go on.” Jack, ever the jock, pushed Blink into Mush. “See you tomorrow,” he said, steering them in the direction of Mush’s house, and then, when the two were out of earshot, “Lover boys.”

Blink glanced back over his shoulder at his friends. Race was still glaring at where Spot had been standing, and David was simultaneously trying to explain he had homework and kiss his boyfriend. Even if we don’t all play sports, Blink thought, we’re still the best team ever. Smiling broadly, he ran to catch up with Mush.

9/100

Yay for fanfic!

2006-04-05T23:33:12Z

Title: Testing 1, 2, 3
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink/Mush
Prompt: 040 - Sight
Word Count: 180
Rating: G
Summary: Blink fails a test. Mush cheers him up.
Author's Notes: OK, so this was MEANT to be one of those exactly 100 word fics, but I got a little carried away and now it's just a super short one. XD

Testing 1, 2, 3

Blink stared at his test, willing the letters on the page to change, change to some question he knew the answer to. He'd studied, but this was the fifth question he just didn't get. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Blink didn't like failing.

Mush looked up from his test. It was almost completely finished (except he had written in random Broadway lyrics when he didn't know the answer). Blink, who was sitting across the room, was obviously stressing over his test, and even looked a bit sad. Mush frowned, pulled out a few sheets of blank paper and scribbled a note in large writing on each one. When the teacher had turned away, Mush held them up so Blink could read them. Blink nodded, then smiled, and then outright laughed. The teacher, noticing the noise, whipped around and Mush had to hastily shove the signs into his backpack, where the likelihood of him ever finding them again was very slim.

A week later he rediscovered them, crumpled into a ball, the handwriting almost illegible.

You look forlorn.
Meet me after school.
We'll watch Broadways.

4 Fanfic100s

2006-03-24T14:59:11Z

Title: Heartbeat
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink/Mush
Prompt: 037 - Sound
Word Count: 506
Rating: PG for some violence.
Summary: When you think you’ve lost the one thing you loved, even the littlest thing can bring the greatest joy.
Author's Notes: Another one shot, from Mush's PoV.

Heartbeat

Noise was all around me. Cries of newsies throwing punches at the bulls, the sickening sound of at club colliding with a head, or a fist with a jaw. Chaos surrounded me, I was in the middle of a riot, but I saw none of it. My mind held one though, and one only. I had to find him.

I shoved my way through the crowd, pushing aside cops and newsies alike, my eyes scanning the room. Come on Kid, where are you…. Please, let him be all right.

There was a flurry of movement over by the door, and I rushed forward. There, running with Jack, helping him escape. He’s okay, my mind screamed joyously, he’s not captured, he’s not hurt, he’s okay.

I rushed forward, out the door, and stopped dead. Trapped. Blink and Jack were trapped, surrounded by bulls on horses. One of them broke the circle, riding toward them, leaning down to grab Jack. Blink, desperately brave, somehow managed to drag the bull from his saddle, yelling at Jack to beat it. He tried to hold back the bull, pinning him down, sacrificing himself so Jack could get away.

There were too many of them. I wanted to scream Behind you! or Look out! but I just stood there, motionless, watching as a club smashed into Blink’s face, and sent him reeling sideways, toppling over. Two of the bulls began to haul him away, one holding each arm, and he struggled feeble. Another club collided with Blink’s head, sending him to the ground. A trickle of blood dripped over the purplish bruise that was already forming around his good eye. I watched him as he lay there, motionless. Get up Kid! my mind screamed, Don’t just lie there, get up! But nothing, no movement, no sound. A wall of shock and grief smashed into me, nearly knocking me over. No, he couldn’t be, they can’t have hit him that hard… Still he lay there, limp and motionless as a doll. Please… please… get up… you can’t be… Kid… please…

The bulls saw he wasn’t moving too, but that didn’t stop a few of them circling around for a few more good hits. And finally, after what seemed ages, I was moving, running toward the bulls. I think I was screaming, shouting Stop it, get away! Can’t you see he’s not fighting back? They didn’t hear me; they were going to keep hurting him. Even though he couldn’t feel it, I couldn’t let them do that to Blink, I couldn’t. So I did the only thing I could thing of; I flung myself across him, shielding him from the blows of the bulls.

And there, amidst all the noise and violence and chaos, with my head on Blink’s chest, I heard it, shattering my despair like a ray of bright sunlight. A faint, but steady thumping, resonating in my ear. And I just lay there, joy and relief welling inside me, listening to Blink’s heartbeat.

Until… a sharp pain, and blackness.

-fin-

Title: Raindrops
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink/Mush
Prompt: 066 - Rain
Word Count: 653
Rating: G
Summary: Whoever says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.
Author's Notes: YAY! First fic up. Just a one-shot ficlet. Not much to say about it.

Raindrops

Rain. It fell from the sky in torrents, forming rivulets that coursed between the cobblestones. It formed deep puddles on the pavement and dripped off the leaves of every tree. It turned dirt roads to mud. It streamed off the edges of roofs, steadily drenching the city and everyone willing to brave the downpour.

Rain flattened Mush’s unruly curls to his forehead, and soaked through this clothes. It ran down his arms and dripped off the tips of his fingers. It streamed down his face, leaving tracks in the dust. It clung in sparkling drops to his eyelashes and trickled off the end of his nose. It filled his shoes. It soaked him to the bone, the cool water finally relieving the unbearable heat of summer.

Mush stood alone in Newsie’s Square, and turned his face toward the sky, letting the rain wash over him. Mush loved the rain. He didn’t care that it was getting cold, or that his shoes wouldn’t be dry by the next day. He didn’t care that he was getting his only set of clothes drenched. Mush loved the rain, and at that moment, it was just him and the rain.

~*~

Kid Blink was miserable. I was raining, and there was no escaping it. He had tried to avoid the downpour by hiding in doorways, but the rain just blew sideways at him, soaking him to the skin. The rain leaked through the cloth awnings outside stores, so there was no shelter to be found there either. Holding his last pape over his head as a kind of makeshift umbrella, he made his way toward the lodging house, cursing the rain and wishing he had headed home early with Race and Jack instead of insisting he had to sell his last paper.

Blink hated the rain. It seeped through his shoes so that they squished when he walked. It soaked through his clothes, cold and clammy. It clung to his eyelashes and flattened his hair so it hung in his one good eye, obscuring most of his vision. And at the rate the rain was coming down, Blink’s makeshift umbrella did very little in the way of protection. He cursed at the rain again, for good measure, and continued his trudge home.

~*~

Blink came around the corner into Newsie’s square to see a lone figure standing there, without an umbrella, face tilted toward the sky.

“Mush, what are you doing out here? It’s pouring.” Blink offered his paper umbrella to his thoroughly soaked friend, but Mush pushed it back.

“I like it,” Mush said, turning his gaze from the sky to Blink. “The rain. It’s nice.”

“You’re mad,” Blink said, scowling. Mush half-smiled. Blink looked very much like a drowned rat, completely drenched, his newspaper held limply above his head.

“No, really Kid, you’d like it. You just ain’t gonna be able t’ enjoy it wit dat pape over your head.” Mush grinned and lunged at Blink, snatching the offending paper out of Blink’s hand and dropping it in a puddle. Blink glared at Mush as the full force of the rain hit him.

After standing there for some time, while the sky emptied it’s contents on their heads, Blink realized that Mush was right. Once he stopped worrying about his clothes being wet, the rain really was, well, nice. Cool, not icy. Mush noticed Blink’s smile returning and smiled as well.

“See?” he said.

Blink just shook his head at Mush, grinning, and then burst out laughing, the sound rising above the constant sound of the rain. “Y’ are mad,” he said, throwing an arm around Mush. “But I don’t mind.”

“Y’ like me anyway?”

“Of course, y’ goon,” Blink said sincerely, giving Mush’s shoulder a quick squeeze and pulling his rain soaked friend closer. They stood there, arms around each other, until darkness fell, letting the rain fall upon their upturned faces.

fin

Title: King of New York
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink/Mush
Prompt: What?
Word Count: 510
Rating: G
Summary: Blink has a suprise for Mush. FLUFF, slash if you squint.

King of New York

It was after the strike was finally over, the day Jack Kelly came back to the newsies. Kid Blink stood in the gathering crowd, his arm slung around the shoulders of his best friend. Blink’s lone eye twinkled with amusement, but not because he was watching Jack kiss Sarah Jacobs. Instead, he was looking at his friend.

Mush was staring at Jack and Sarah, his brown curls glinting in the sunlight, a good-natured smile playing about his lips. Good-natured pretty much summed up Mush. When the strike first started, Mush was the only newsie big-hearted enough to wonder why they’d raised the price of papes. Most people called him naïve, but Blink liked him for it. It was nice to know that there was still someone in the world whose view on life wasn’t cynical. Blink pulled Mush a little closer. If there was one person he never wanted to lose, it was Mush.

The crowd had thinned, and the newsies began to wander back the lodging house. It would be getting dark soon, and no one had any papes left to sell. As they headed toward the house, Blink grabbed Mush’s hand and pulled him aside.

“I wanna show you summit. Follow me.”

“What? Come on Kid, tell me,” Mush begged, following Blink as he pulled Mush down a side street. Blink said nothing, just flashed his trademark smile. Mush knew what that meant; it was a surprise and there was no way he was going to get anything out of his blonde friend. He didn’t mind though, not knowing where he was going. Blink had the kind of cheerful personality that made everyone around him happy too. Even though he had the tiniest bit of a temper, his catchy smile and even more contagious laugh had been known to make even Skittery crack a grin. There was nowhere else Mush would rather be than with Blink.

After running down a few alleys and side streets hand in hand, the two boys arrived somewhere behind the lodging house. Blink winked at Mush before digging around in some crates stacked up against the wall, looking for something. After a minute or so, he returned triumphant to where Mush was sitting on another crate.

“Since you’re the King of New York now, I thought you’d be needin’ these.”

Mush took the box that Blink offered him and Blink pulled up a crate right next to Mush, hazel eye shining. Mush lifted the lid off the box, and the good-natured grin that Blink had grown so fond of spread across his face like wildfire. Mush clasped Blink’s hand gratefully, but didn’t let go, letting their fingers intertwine instead.

Blink looked at the box sitting in Mush’s lap. Inside was a pair of shoes; shiny, clean and polished, with identical black laces.

--fin--

Title: Cookies
Fandom: Newsies
Characters: Kid Blink/Mush
Prompt: Food
Word Count: Err... around 920.
Rating: PG
Summary: “Look, I appreciate your ability to bake cookies, tickle Mush and talk to me at the same time, but I am trying to tell you something!”
Author's Notes: Fluffy AU humor, with OCs and sugar.

Cookies

Red raced up the stairs to her bedroom and flung herself down on her bed, phone clutched in one hand. She dialed as fast as she could. The phone rang.

“Come on Blink, pick up the phone…” she muttered. The phone rang again. Red agitatedly played with one of her copper curls that had escaped from the enormous clip that she had put in her hair. The phone rang a third time and finally someone picked up.

“Hello?” Blink sounded rather distracted.

“Bliiiiiiinnk! I totally embarrassed the hell out of myself today…” Red moaned.

“Mmmm hmm.”

“I swear, I’ve killed my reputation!”

“Uh huh…” There were muffled voices on the other end of the line and someone giggled.

“Blink, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course.” More whispers.

“I was just incredibly melodramatic and you’re not even curious?”

“Huh? Of course Red, sure… Wait, what?”

Red sighed. On the other end of the line Blink began laughing hysterically--though he tried to muffle it--and another voice muttered something indignantly that Red could have sworn was “It’s just an apron.”

“Blink, is there someone else there?”

“Yeah.” Smothered laughter. “Mush and I--” Hysterical laughter. “--are making cookies.”

“Oh.” Red rolled her eyes. She should have know, Mush and Blink practically lived at each others houses, ever since they had been introduced. (Kind of like how Red practically lived at her friend Showbiz’s house.)

Ryan Ballatt--“Kid Blink” to his good friends--had been Red’s only guy friend in elementary school. Her best friend, Amy “Showbiz” Knightly, used to have a huge crush on Matthew Myers, and they were good friends as well. Blink and Matthew (dubbed Mush by Blink because he was the nicest boy in the entire school.) had been practically conjoined at the elbow since Red and Showbiz had introduced them.

Red had always wondered at the fact that they were such good friends, even now that they were halfway through high school--they were so different. Blink was outgoing, Mush was shy. Mush was into drama, Blink liked tennis (although he proved he had a great voice when Mush made him try out for the school musical.) Blink picked fights, though not consciously. The only time Red had ever seen Mush fight was during their freshman year when Blink’s temper had him getting the shit kicked out of him in the parking lot by a bunch of juniors, and Mush had defended him.

Unfortunately for all of their friends, it was hard to get two words in edgewise when Blink and Mush were together. It was like trying to talk to Showbiz when she was watching Mighty Ducks 2. Red sighed into the phone. “Blink?” No answer, then:

“Mush!”

“What?” Both voices on the other end of the line were clear.

“It says two tablespoons, not two cups!”

“Oh. Whoops.”

“Here, gimme that.”

“Tell me you did not just grab the spoon out of my hand…”

Running footsteps and more laughter. Mush and Blink had a tendency to act like ten-year-olds when they had had too much sugar. “Blink!” Red said, a little louder. Blink either ignored her or didn’t hear her.

“HA! Now I hold the spoon of power!” That was Blink, always over-the-top.

“Blink, you sound stupid.” That was Mush; who else could make “stupid” sound affectionate?

“You started the whole spoon thing by chasing me around trying to get it back.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did!”

“BLINK! … There has got to be a law against throwing flour at your best friend.”

“Nope.”

“Ok. If there isn’t, then…”

“MUSH!”

“Served you right, you threw flour at me first.” Mush was laughing.

“Oh, your are so in for it…”

“That’s--hahahahaha--Not fair! I can’t--hahahahahahaha--retaliate!”

Red was finally fed up (although she couldn’t deny that listening to their conversation was interesting…) “BLINK!” she yelled into the receiver.

“What?” he answered, a little too innocently.

“Look, I appreciate your ability to bake cookies, tickle Mush and talk to me at the same time, but I am trying to tell you something!”

“Sorry, I’m just a little busy… making cookies and all.” Red was hard pressed to restrain her impulse to point out how much innuendo was contained in the phrase “making cookies.” “Call ‘Biz, she’ll listen to you.”

“She’ll laugh at me.”

“You could call Race.”

“I am not calling my sister’s boyfriend to complain about my stupidity.”

“Spoons won’t mind.”

“Yeah, but I will.”

“I guess you’re stuck talking to Showbiz.”

“Whatever. She’ll think it’s the most HI-larious thing since I fell over in my chair at her Fourth of July party.”

“Right.” He paused. “You’re still going to call her, I know you will.”

Red laughed. “You know me too well. I guess I’ll talk to you later!”

“ ‘Kay.”

“Bye!”

“Mush says bye too.”

“Bye Mush!”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Blink, just get off the phone and go… make your cookies.”

--------------------the end------------------------

Fanart 100

2006-03-16T04:35:23Z

Once again, a table of the 100 persuasion. :)

001.	Beginnings.	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Insides.	005.	Outsides.
006.	Hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	Months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red.	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Green.	015.	Blue.
016.	Purple.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black.	019.	White.	020.	Colourless.
021.	Friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers.	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	Teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Children.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Sunrise.	032.	Sunset.	033.	Too Much.	034.	Not Enough.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	Sound.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Sight.
041.	Shapes.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Square.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Star.	047.	Heart.	048.	Diamond.	049.	Club.	050.	Spade.
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Dinner.	059.	Food.	060.	Drink.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Summer.	064.	Fall.	065.	Passing.
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightening.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken.	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Dark.	075.	Shade.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082.	If.	083.	And.	084.	He.	085.	She.
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School.	089.	Work.	090.	Home.
091.	Birthday.	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving.	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Artist's Choice.	097.	Artist's Choice.	098.	Artist's Choice.	099.	Artist's Choice.	100.	Artist's Choice.

Fanfic 100

2005-12-27T21:13:31Z

Kay, I need a place to put the big damn prompt table, so here it is (in all it's glory):

001.	Beginnings.	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Insides.	005.	Outsides.
006.	Hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	Months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red.	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Green.	015.	Blue.
016.	Purple.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black.	019.	White.	020.	Colourless.
021.	Friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers.	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	Teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Children.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Sunrise.	032.	Sunset.	033.	Too Much.	034.	Not Enough.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	Sound.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Sight.
041.	Shapes.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Square.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Star.	047.	Heart.	048.	Diamond.	049.	Club.	050.	Spade.
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Dinner.	059.	Food.	060.	Drink.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Summer.	064.	Fall.	065.	Passing.
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightening.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken.	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Dark.	075.	Shade.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082.	If.	083.	And.	084.	He.	085.	She.
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School.	089.	Work.	090.	Home.
091.	Birthday.	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving.	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.