You Can't Build a City on the Rea

I mostly have the choruses and the bridge.  Chords too.  Verses are a little sketchy.

g add 9, a add9, em7

There's a hamlet here, nothing more
I don't know why you think it could be more

you can't build a city on the rea
no you can't build a city on the rea
and you can't put your hopes on me
you can't build a city on the rea

just let me be, let me be, let me be

But I know you won't let go of this idea
and you know I won't stop tryna make you see

you can't build a city on the rea
no you can't build a city on the rea
and you can't put your hopes on me
you can't build a city on the rea

but you bring out the very best in me
There's a little hope that you have made me see
you're the sunshine to my rose, I hope you know

You can't build a city on the rea
but if we build a new waterway
maybe you can build your city, maybe you can have your way
and maybe you can put your hopes on me.
with some help, you can put your hopes on me
so come with me, come with me, come with me

The After Lives of Lydia Montmorency

I hate my body.

I really hate my body.

It's not in bad shape, I guess.  Comparatively speaking.  I'm thinner than I've been in years.  This new diet - hahaha - is the first one I've ever been able to stick to.  Funny that.  I've stopped bothering with make-up, though.  And fashion.  Any interest I had in fashion has long since fallen by the wayside.

"When's the last time you washed your hair?" I ask myself.  Rhetorical question.

I sigh, and float through a wall so I don't have to look at myself any more.  Stupid body.  Despite this part of me having long since evacuated that shell, I still feel attached.  We would resemble sisters, I suspect, if there were anyone who could see both of us.

I stuck my head back through the wall.  My body looks over at me.  Like a dog.

"Come on," I say to my own rotting carcass, with a sigh.  "Let's go get you some brains."

I Hold Your Hand

I hold your hand.

It's so warm.  Your veins stand out across the back, from all the exercise you've done.  There are calluses from gripping, climbing, pulling, clinging on to life and vibrancy in a way that so few do.  The nails are bitten.  Your fingertips have those sensitive teardrops on them, though you've numbed them through repeated exposure.  So do mine.

I'd give anything to hold your hand, but now that I finally am, I wish I couldn't.  It's hurting you.  I see your frustration, as you learn how to do simple little things, like eat, and type, and tie your shoelaces, without the use of your left hand.  I'd give it back to you if I could.  I'd give you anything if I could.  But letting go of your hand now won't give it back to you, and I've been starved of you for so long that I can't let go.

It was two years before we met that I...that I became cold.  It was an accident, a tragic accident.  You were never meant to be without me.  Your life wasn't supposed to be this hard.  We could have been great together.  We will be one day.

For now, because of that accident, I can hold your hand.  I know you know that, because when you feel my cold fingers on your warm phantom limb, you jump, sometimes, startled.  Then you smile, a hopeful smile, and I feel reassured.

One day, we'll start over together, in two new lives.  For now, I'll wait.  For now, I hold your hand.

At Least (Oh You) - Draft 1

Oh you
you kissed me at the station
at the end of our first date and
I
guess you never knew
That I'd planned to kiss you too
Just the same
Guess that's our game.

Oh, we
Lala la la la lalala,
Lala, la la la lalala,
You and me...
Were wrong as wrong could be,
but at least
We got that right
We got one thing right

And do you
Remember that long night
When I sang and held you tight
because you
had those nightmares and those dreams
That just wouldn't let you sleep
without me
You needed me.
and though next day you said
we'd never talk of it again,
at least
We had that night
we got one thing right.

The Shape of You

A withered red rose, saved from a bouquet,
I'm allergic to roses, but I think that's wearing off.

A single cup with two straws.
A ticket to the Apollo Victoria,
"That's Galinda with a Gar",
More ticket stubs, Jimmy Carr this time.

A review for Scar 3D,
An empty space in my bed.
The 11th.
The second series of Green Wing.

A void on my righthandside,
The beep of a text or an msn message,
My cold hands.
Christmas.

These are the things that make the shape of you,
The space that is left when you leave.

Marvellous to Me, 3rd Draft

Can you imagine if Pietro and Lorna 
Dane got together.
It would be like
"You can't catch me, I'm too fast so
Why do you try when you can never keep up?"
So maybe
I'm just saying maybe
Maybe we should slow things down...

Or pretend Colossus and Kitty Pryde
Well, made it work together, or tried
It'd be like
"My strongest grip can't hold you
You're slipping right out of my hands
But still you get through
Every defence that I ever had,"
So maybe 
I'm just saying maybe
Maybe we should just be friends.

But I wish you knew
Wish you could see
You're marvellous to me
You always were
Always will be
Marvellous to me.
To me
You're marvellous to me...

Gambit and Rogue tried to work it out
Though he
He couldn't touch her and if he tried,
Well she -
She would kill him like you're killing me.
So maybe -
Baring a miracle maybe
Maybe we should just stay fiction.

But I wish you knew
Wish you could see
You're marvellous to me
You always were
Always will be
Marvellous to me.
To me
And though I know
We will never work
You'll always be
Marvellous to me.
To me
You're marvellous to me...

 

Marvellous to Me, Second Draft - with Singing!

Imagine if Pietro and and Lorna 
Dane got together.
It would be like
"You can't hit me, I'm too fast and
Can you imagine standing behind the 
slow guy at the atm forever?
...and you remind me of my dad".

Or pretend Colossus and Kitty Pryde
Well, made it work together, or tried
It'd be like
"My strongest grip can't hold you
You're slipping right out of my hands
But still you get through
Every defence that I ever had, so maybe
Maybe we should just stay friends".

But I wish you knew
I wish you could see
You're marvellous to me
You always were
You always will be
Marvellous to me.

Gambit and Rogue tried to work it out
Though he
He couldn't touch her and if he tried,
Well she -
She would kill him like you're killing me.
So maybe -
Baring a miracle maybe
Maybe we should just stay fiction.

But you're
Marvellous to me
You were always were
You've always been
Marvellous to me.
I wish you knew
I wish you'd believe
You're marvellous to me.

You asked me to look you in the eye
but like 
cyclops without his visor
I can't do that
You don't want that
But still
You should believe

You're marvellous to me
You always were
You always will be
Marvellous to me
Even though I know
We will never work
You're still marvellous to me
To me
You'll always be
Marvellous to me.
You can hear me singing it here.

That Little Jump

I'm unhappy
and I'm waiting for you
I'm about to give up on you
But you say just right the thing
and you pull me back in

and I hate that little jump of hope
every time I get out, it pulls me right back in

Suddenly I'm happy and I'm singing
maybe this time....
maybe this time

maybe this time I'll win.


I don't like this so much.  It's a bit forties, the lyrics don't flow well, and I swear it's not quite original.

There's a bit of the brain

There's a bit of my brain
that's mostly sane
and it tries to save me
from myself
There's a bit of my brain
that's still a bit sane
and it's fighting a war
against itself

Similar to "They're coming to take me away".

Marvellous to Me OR Pun Intended

Imagine if Pietro Maximoff
And Lorna Dane got together.
It'd be like
"You can't hit me, I'm too fast
Can you imagine standing behind the slow guy at the atm forever?
You remind me of my dad".

Or pretend Colossus and Kitty Pryde
Made it work together, or tried
It'd be like
"All my strength can't hold you
You slip through my tightest grip
You get through my defences like no one else
Maybe we're better apart".

And it's like
I'm sorry I ran
I'm sorry I couldn't catch you
I'm sorry I tried to keep you
But you're marvellous to me.

Gambit and Rogue tried to work it out
Though Remy couldn't touch her and she -
She'd kill him if he got too close
Like you're killing me.
So, baring a miracle, maybe -

Maybe we should just stay fiction.

And it's like
I'm sorry I wanted to touch you
When you kept warning me "no"
I'm sorry I couldn't leave you
When you warned me, and told me to go
Don't you know?
You're marvellous to me
You've always been
Marvellous to me.

This little fragment might fit in somewhere too;

you asked me to look you in the eye
but I'm like cyclops without his visor
you don't want that,
trust me

Original Draft of Nobody Died, After All

The sun still sets over land and sea.
The wind still blows, the rain still falls
You are no longer in love with me
But nobody died, after all.

The world remains, though I heave a sigh
You heart no longer answers to my call
I can no longer reach you, however I try
Still, nobody died after all.


When I am I and no longer we
When my heart no longer rises but merely falls
When you turn your back to me
A part of me dies after all.

Tragic Limerick

I wish you all the best
though you tore my heart from my chest
and ate it while it was still beating
Metaphorically speaking
And an empty shell's what's left

Nobody Died, After All

The sun still rises
The world still turns
you said you didn't love me any more
and it hurt like acid burns
but nobody died, after all.

I get through the day
Faking a smile
you tore my heart from my chest,
and ate it while it was still beating
Metaphorically speaking
but nobody died, after all.

The moon waxes and wanes
like your love for me
you took away my favourite drug
the world doesn't make sense any more
I think a part of me died, after all.

Twenty Thousand Dollar Bills - first page, draft

She woke up knowing there was someone beside her. She knew it was sure as you know that water will be wet or that the sun will warm your skin. She was sure right up until she reached out, and her arm passed straight through common air.

Suddenly awake, she sat up. She was lying in the top half of a bunk bed, with a backpack at her feet. Looking around the room, she saw two other similar bunks and two doors. All of the beds were empty, and the sunlight through the wind showed it to be late morning.

She felt a sense of unease, like she was waiting for another shoe to drop. Her heart ached with longing and despair for something she couldn't quite name. And her throat really, really hurt. She swallowed saliva, which did nothing to soothe her throat before unzipping the bag and hunting for a bottle of water. Her hand found it, almost by instinct, and she gulped greedily. It helped, a little.

Picking up the backpack, she climbed out of bed and tried one of the doors. It opened into a bathroom.

Her face in the mirror was pinched and pale. It was pretty enough, with dark eyes and curly dark hair wild around her face. Her skin was a little olivey, and the bags under her eyes were as dark and purple as bruises.

Sighing, she brushed her teeth with a travel toothbrush she found in her bag and climbed into the shower. The water felt amazing. She hadn't realised how badly her body was aching until she'd stepped into the flow.

Desperately trying to stave off thought, and knowing that no one was sleeping, she began to sing. She started softly at first, building up to a louder belt on the chorus. She loved to sing. She loved the sounds felt moving through her mouth, how expressive the music was. She loved that she could lose herself in it.

She felt sad, suddenly, almost as if she wanted to cry. She wanted to do...something. She wanted something in her life that was lacking, something she had no words for, no conception of, but wanted desperately none the less. The powerlessness of the position angered her, and she sang more loudly to drown the feelings out.

Finally, sung out, she stepped out of the shower and began to dress. She had nothing more to do but face the facts, which was that she had no idea who or where she was.

Lost at Sea

For me, at this point in my life, depression is like being lost at sea.  Stranded, on a tiny bit of floating ice.  Oh sure, there are things you could do.  You could try swimming.  You can hope for rescue.  You can try to steer the ice.  But all of these things seem so pointless.  You know land is out there, but you can't see it.  It's hard to believe you'll make it.

Then you come across another island.  Maybe someone reached out a hand and helped you onto theirs for a moment.  Maybe you found something, anything, to get you through a few more hours.  The goal is to build stepping stones, so you can take step after step onto something new, anything that will keep you moving forward.  Anything that stops you sinking.

One day, there'll be enough things that you'll be running across dry land.  For now, you're floating alone, looking for a baby step to get started.

The Controllers - Summaries

These are notes, on a story which has lived in my head since I was ten.

Summary

One night, the UK is forever changed when an army of robots stage a hostile takeover. Five children are rescued and raised by a mysterious professor; Luke, Megan, Harvey, Shirley, and Rachel. Ten years after the initial attack, their base is finally found, and the Professor is killed. The teenagers set out alone, with the goal of finding the Controller’s base and defeating them once and for all.

While scavenging for food, they accidentally capture/rescue one of the taken humans, Lance. He has a memory chip on his brain which, when removed, destroys all memory of the Controllers. Harvey slips the chip onto Shirley. They keep Lance with them, rather than returning him, and spend more time exploring.

NOTE: The hypnosis is very short lived – a few hours. This is why the memory chips, which can also double as mind-control devices (they were originally intended as such; the memory bit is a side effect) are put onto the humans.

Unbeknownst to them, Lance has a tracking device as well as the memory device on him, and the Controller’s leader, Alan, finds them. He approaches Harvey, and reveals himself to be Harvey’s father. Harvey agrees to go with him, as ruling the UK is something he could definitely see himself doing. Due to his obsessive attraction to Shirley, he does not allow his father to destroy the group, though he accepts that they cannot kidnap Shirley at that point.

The group spends time exploring and gathering information. They briefly connect with one other group, who are able to tell them where the base is. Shirley and Lance connect, through late-night talks, and a magical moment on a merry-go-round which, surprisingly, still works. Megan is the only one who really misses Harvey, due to his general creepiness.

The group find the base and infiltrate it. (NOTE: The plans were at their original base the whole time.

IDEA: The plans where always on their original intranet. However, with their base destroyed, they need a new laptop and a way to hack into it. This becomes their goal, with Rachel and Luke working on this. When they get the laptop, they hack into the professor’s area (the password was Harvey; they tried all their names first, and find the base.)

They must separate to carry out their plan. Megan attacks Shirley, and Harvey intervenes, pushing Megan off a ledge and killing her. Harvey pretends to have been kidnapped, and leads Shirley to the control room, where his father is waiting. He and his father propose that Shirley join them in World Domination. When Shirley refuses, Alan tries to kill her, but Harvey shoots him. Lance has been planting a bomb while Rachel and Luke help people to escape the base. Just before the blast, Harvey removes Shirley’s memory chip, resulting in the total loss of her experiences since it was put on her. Harvey uses his father’s mind control devices, not to retake the world, but to subjugate Shirley. Lance sees her, a decade later, in a restaurant. She’s a perfect Stepford wife, with two children who are rude to waiters. Harvey is still a creepy douchebag.

Harvey’s Synopsis

Harvey Pendleton is the son of Alan Pendleton. His uncle Tom, having learned of the robot army Alan is building, kidnaps Harvey for his own good. In an attempt to get him back, Alan Pendleton unleashes the robot army across the UK. This attempt fails; Tom succeeds in rescuing five other children in his helicopter, and hides the six children away in a secret base, training them to, eventually, defeat the robots.

Harvey slowly grows to be obsessed with Shirley. He feels no pressure to deal with this, as the only other guys there are Luke, who isn’t interested, and the Professor.

At the age of seventeen, their base is attacked, and the Professor is killed. Harvey and the others escape, and begin searching for the Robot’s base. While searching, they come across Lance, and Harvey takes his memory chip, accidentally destroying his memories of the Robots. Lance also had a tracking device on him, which leads Alan right to Harvey. Alan approaches Harvey when he’s alone, and reveals himself to be the boy’s father. He wants to kidnap or destroy the group, but Harvey won’t let him (why? Does he want to see what Shirley will do without him? Can he spy on them somehow?). Having figured out what the memory chip does, he puts it on Shirley, and leaves with Alan.

Harvey stays at the base with Alan, getting to know his father, and generally learning to be the next Robot leader. The group invade the base, splitting up so Harvey only runs into Megan and Shirley. Megan attempts to kill Shirley; Megan is on Harvey’s side, and though she knows that he likes Shirley, she believes that the fact that Shirley is here to kill his father, and that Megan will have “rescued” him will get Harvey to like her. Harvey pretends to go along with this, and then pushes her off a ledge. Shirley is horrified, despite the fact that he’s saved her life. Harvey tells her that he’s on her side really, that he was kidnapped, and that if she’ll just follow him to the control room, he’ll help her to kill his father.

Shirley goes with him, but Harvey’s plan was to show her his empire, and ask her to be his queen. He is attempting to sexually assault her, after her refusal, when his father walks in. Alan first assumes that they are fighting, and tries to shoot Shirley. Harvey must act quickly to stop him, and shoots him. Afterwards, he explains to Shirley how killing his father proves that he cares about her, and that she should accept him.

Lance walks in; his goal was to plant bombs, and he needs one up here. He threatens to kill Lance. Shirley distracts him, and Lance tackles him. Shirley trains the gun on Harvey, with Lance holding him. Harvey uses some sort of pocket controller, or code word, or something, to get a robot to walk up behind Shirley and hypnotise Lance. Shirley is distracted by the robot and turns, trusting Lance to hold Harvey; she’d forgotten that Lance isn’t immune to them, and Harvey is able to get to her. He takes the memory chip off her, which has two effects; she falls unconscious, as Lance did, and when she wakes up, she won’t remember anything from the point at which it was put on her. Harvey plants the bomb, and carries Shirley out of the building, leaving Lance there. He then uses mind-control devices – such as the memory chip – to enslave Shirley.

Shirley’s Synopsis

Shirley barely remembers a time before the Robots. From the age of six, she’s lived underground, with the Professor who saved her and four other children. She’s friends with Rachel and Luke. Megan doesn’t like her, and Harvey can be quite overly friendly at times.

When Shirley is seventeen, their base is finally found by the Robots, and the Professor is killed. They had intended to wait a while before attacking the base; the plan was almost ready to put into action, but all of the schematics needed were on the Professor’s computers, and they need a way to get back into the system.

While scavenging for food, they picked up another boy, Lance. He was caught by the robots at a young age. Unfortunately, Harvey removes his memory chip before they figure out what it is, and destroys his memories of the base. Very shortly afterwards, Harvey mysteriously disappears in the middle of the night.

The group continue to search for a way into the computer system, and from there into the Controller’s Base. They find one, and divide up jobs. Lance will plant bombs, while Luke and Rachel get everyone out, and Megan and Shirley try to find the Controller’s control room and smash everything. Lance will meet them there, to plant the last bomb and get them out.

Shirley and Megan run into Harvey, who is revealed to be Alan (the Controller)’s son. Megan tries to kill Shirley, thinking this will please him, but he pushes her off a ledge, killing her. He uses this to convince Shirley that he’s really on her side, and they head to the control room, where he tries to convince her to become his Tyrannical Queen. Alan walks in, and threatens Shirley, believed Harvey and Shirley to be arguing. Harvey shoots him, unable to do anything else before he hurts Shirley. Lance walks in at this point, and Harvey turns the gun on him. He’s been watching them (through Lance’s tracking device?) and knows that Shirley has feelings for him. Shirley distracts Harvey, and Lance tackles him. While Lance is holding Harvey, and Shirley has a gun trained on him, Harvey summons one of the Robots. Shirley turns, startled, and forgets that Lance is not immune to hypnosis. When the Robot hypnotises Lance, Harvey manages to get the memory chip that he planted on Shirley off her neck, and she falls unconscious. Harvey carries her out, and uses his father’s mind control devices to control her for the rest of their lives.

Summat Dead Weird

I dreamt this.  I literally dreamt it, then woke up and typed it out, just as it is below.

----

Summat dead weird's been 'appening round here recently. Tek this new school we been going to. It's reet posh like, proper gothic with towers an stuff. Posher than anywhere I ever thought I'd be going, any road up. And get this, reet. This dead famous director was standing reet by the gates t'other day. He'd just got out of his limo and was just standin' there, looking confused.

“Y'awreet mate?” I said to 'im, 'cause you would, wouldn't you?

“Excuse me, young man!” He said. Think he were a bit excited someone had spoke to him, you know. “Could you tell me where I am?”

“Yer at me school!” I shouted back over me shoulder. I was late y'see. “But god only knows what yowm doin' 'ere innit mate!”

The next day, I saw that dead famous actor roll up, in his limo. The director was there, and they hugged like brothers. Least, I think they were like brothers. My brother says only poofs hug, but I don't think they were. Our dad's a proper man, my brother says, and we ain't seem him hug anyone in his life.

There were summat wrong with that actor's leg. He were limpin' a bit.

The next day, t'were more people millin' about, lots of people with cameras and those mic-boom-things an' stuff, so I figure, reet, they must be makin' a movie. One of them looks properly ill; he's kneeling on the ground and droolin' and I wonder why none of 'em ain't got time to 'elp him.

Any road up, that dead classy actress strolls up to 'em, looking like something off the red carpet, all long dress and gloves, with her hair all pinned up dead fancy-like.

“Hello boys,” she said, in that accent she has. “Waiting for me?”

“I suppose we were,” the director said. I didn't hear anythin after that, 'cause I was nearly late again and had to leg it dead quick.

The other weird thing is what happens on the way home from school. Me and me brother, we always see the same people on the way home. Neighbours an that. None of them go into t'pub any more! They look at it, reet, with this dead snooty look on their face, like they're thinking “we ain't going in there no more, no way” reet, and then, as they walk past, they look back, dead longing like. I dunno why they don't just go in if they want t'.

These two old biddies, I know they'm 'omeless because me mam used to 'elp 'em out, I said, “Y'can've me fiver if you like, I saved it fer y', 'cause I war'n't 'ungry. Y'can 'ave it fer y' tea.”

And they said “thank you”, and then they said “no thank you”, and carried on. But they did that dead longin' glance at the pub and all.

Next day, I was walking along behind 'em again, and our other neighbour shouted across to 'em. “y'can come and 'ave a sandwich if you like, loves!”. She's dead kind, that neighbour. She makes 'em for the church, for all the other 'omeless, but she was letting these two have first pick.

They looked up at her, all surprised, like they didn't expect her to speak to the likes of them. She's not spoken t'me in a while, truth be told. Anyroad up, they said “no thank you duck", and kept walking. The neighbour looked all confused after they'd gone, and looked after the way they'd went for a while. She didn't look at me though. Not many people seem to look at me any more.

I'm always cold these days. I can't seem to turn the heating on. My brother can though, he can do all sorts. Says he don't need to though, an' he says he won't teach me. Says I'll figure it out for meself, one of these days.

'course, he's been dead a lot longer'n I have.

Character Building: Mina Stafford

Character Building – Mina Stafford

My Parents

My father was an alcoholic. My stepfather raped me. My mother hated me, to the point of letting it happen. One time, she put out a cigarette on my arm when I dared to even suggest that something wasn’t right.

Fuck you.

My Most Prominent Physical Feature

I don’t have one. Yeah, I know the question is ‘most’, so obviously I do have a most prominent feature, even if, overall, the most prominent is only like one out of ten on the prominent scale. But I work hard on not being noticed, and a big help in that is the lack of prominent features. My hair is curly and brown. My eyes are brown. My skin is a little tan, not so much as you’d really notice. My features are even, nothing too noticeable. I get freckles in summer. Nothing special, really.

Scars

There’s a gash along my arm where my dad smashed a mirror over me, and it broke. And there are cigarette burns on my shoulders. There’s a scar on my other elbow where I broke it when I was seven.

Vanity

I try not to think about my looks. My parents told me I was ugly constantly, but I was pretty enough for my stepdad to fuck me. Go figure.

I went through a stage of wanting to cut my face, but it hurt too much, and then it healed. And my mom beat me black and blue for having a mark where people could see it. I didn’t do it again after that.

I pluck my eyebrows and wear a little lipgloss. Since my skin is pale and my eyes are dark, that’s generally enough to look normal. I don’t eat much, so I stay a little too thin. My mom called me fat a lot, and sometimes I remember that when people offer me food. I mostly live on coffee.

Kinsey Scale

I’m straight, I think. I can’t imagine being attracted to a woman. It took me long enough to be okay with being attracted to men.

Erasing Past?

Ha bloody ha, what on earth could I possibly want to erase? Fuck you.

Favourites

My favourite flower is a lily. My favourite colour is indigo. My favourite song is Let the Bodies hit the Floor.

Trust

Who do I trust? Seriously? No one.

I trust Leo, in the sense that we could send each other to prison. I trust that he likes me, that he wants me around, that he likes living with me. I don’t trust that it’ll last forever.

I don’t trust anyone in my family. I don’t have any close friends. I do trust my colleagues not to sell me or Leo out, though, of course, I don’t trust them to the extent that I trust Leo.

Turning Point

Leo. Leo loved me as much as he could, and it was uncomplicated. It was simple. Every day he loved me, I hated the world and myself less.

Animal

I don’t like animals, or rather, they don’t like me. I’ve never had a pet.

Computer Savvy?

I have to be. I’m not as good as Leo or Ciaran, but I know enough to google an error message, which is more than most people seem to these days. I can generally find my way around a bit of new technology easily enough.

My bed

I wake up neatly. My covers and pillow tend to be straight, so I just slide out and don’t even make the bed.

Hot or cold?

Put on a coat. Take off a coat. It’s not complicated.

Morning or Night?

I like morning from the underneath. I don’t do getting up early, but I like staying up late and watching the sunrise. Leo and I did that from the top of a tower block once. It was grey and shitty and wonderful, all at the same time.

Blood Relatives?

Ha. Ha. Hahahaha. Fuck off.

I have no family. I have no blood relatives who I’m close to. I’d happily disown anyone who claims to be related to me, and, in fact, have. Do you know what they did to me?! Do you know what my mother did? That evil, stupid, selfish bitch! Fuck off and leave me alone!

Work Space

My work space is very well organised. I keep all the papers and cards related to each identity in separate envelopes. I have a desktop computer. I have various containers and paper-holders, all in black and silver. It’s a desk made for working.

Can you cook?

Can I cook? I can microwave, and I can boil things, does that count? I’m pretty adept at ordering takeaways, how about that? Who cooks these days? Who has time?

Preferred Means of Travel

I like driving. I like being in control of where I'm going, with no one bugging me, just me, and my own space. I like smoking while I drive. I like the feeling of being on auto-pilot. I like not relying on anyone else to take me places.

Irrational Fears?

I have enough rational fears without coming up with any irrational ones, thank you very much. I have fucking nightmares where I have to live with my parents again for whatever reason, and I know I can never escape, and I would rather fucking die.

Cutie Mark

What the FUCK is a cutie mark?

If you could time travel?

I'd go back and save Leo. Or maybe go back even further and save myself. How about that?

Superstitious?

I'm agnostic, does that count? I'm not sure whether god or any sort of higher force exists or not. I pray when I'm frightened. Would that be a kind of superstition?

Your ideal partner?

Leo. Go to hell, bitch.

Your hands?

My hands? What kind of question is that? I keep my nails short because long nails annoy me. I don't paint them. There's a scar on the tip of my left index finger where I accidentally sliced it open once. You can see the veins on the back. Is that enough for you?

What do you smell like?

What do I smell like? Are you insane? How am I supposed to know what I smell like? It's the background smell!

Leo told me I smelt like paper.

Favourites?

Are you fucking serious? You want to know my favourites? Fuck you. I like black, is that enough fucking information for you? I like coffee. I like cucumber sandwiches. My favourite time of year is autumn, because the leaves look nice, and because it meant I got to go back to fucking school instead of staying at home all day. My favourite vice is smoking. That or fucking drinking, I haven't decided.

If your life were a genre...

Horror. Dark and gritty Brit flick. Slasher movie. All very grey and rainy.

Two Songs

In Too Deep, by Genesis. When I left home. When I met Leo. Loving Leo. Not being able to love Leo.

Objects in the Rearview Mirror May Appear Closer than they Are. And my father's eyes were blank as he hit me again and again and again. I hear that ugly, coarse and iron voice, then he grabs me from behind and he pulls me back. I still believe he never let me leave, I had to run away alone.

For My Lover. Every day I'm psychoanalysed.  They dope me up and I tell them lies.  And everybody thinks I'm a fool...they don't get any love from you.

Character Building: Eloise

 As part of a writing exercise on HabitRPG (posts here and here) I've spent the last month answering questions about two of my characters.  This is Eloise's questionnaire.

For background; Eloise Richards, is fifteen-years-old and lives with her Aunt Portia. Her life is reasonably idyllic, apart from a few things. She is home-schooled due to her issues with ADD and recurring nightmares, which prevent her from sleeping. She is also saddened by being separated from her parents; she was born as the result of an affair, and each of her parents has another, legitimate, daughter. Eloise was sent away in order to uncomplicate

Eloise lives in a universe very like ours, apart from the fact that certain people have special powers, including Eloise herself. If it sounds like X-Men, that's because I loved them when I was thirteen and first invented the character!

Character Building: Eloise

My Parents

- By Eloise Richards

My father, James, was poor and handsome. He lived in the icy and distant land of Nova Scotia, in a small wooden shack with his mother.

One day, Morgan, the daughter of the richest family in the small town fell in love with him. She married him, even though he didn’t love her. As long as he married her, his mother was safe and warm, and since he was a good man, that was the most important thing.

Then he fell in love with my mother, Violet. Violet was the daughter of the local mob-boss, my grandfather, Vincent. Vincent had promised her to his lackey, Terry the Weasel. But, love would find and way, and Violet and James ran away together. They had a daughter, me, who they loved madly. But then, Morgan and Vincent found them, and made them go back home. I was given to Portia, James’ sister, to raise.

I haven’t seen my parents since I was three years old, but I know they love me. They risked everything to be together and have me. It’s not their fault they couldn’t make it work. Sometimes people just aren’t that strong. I’ve forgiven them.

My Most Prominent Physical Features

Oh my god, are you serious? I have two bright green streaks in my hair! Plus my nails, are, like, green and silver? So three on one hand are green, and two on the other hand, and all the other ones are silver.

It’s to do with my mutation. See, in my blood, I have two additional substances, a venom and an elixir. The venom is what makes my nails green, and the elixir is what makes them silver. When I stab someone with one of my nail, I can inject them with whatever’s in that nail. The venom makes people woozy and sick, the elixir makes them feel great!

Normally, they balance out in me. If I venom someone, I’ll get the great elixir feelings, and if I elixir them, my venom will hurt me, until my body makes more and they balance out. My hair will also change colour slightly if I use one or the other. The colour in it is made up of both.

Scars

I have a scar along the side of my foot. I was playing outside, and I’d taken my shoes off because, you know, I was four. There was an old tin on the ground, with a sharp lid. Portia took me to A&E, though she didn’t really need to, I just frightened and bloody.

There’s a scar just below my knee from where I cut myself shaving when I was about thirteen. Another scar on my left hand, in the webby bit between index finger and thumb, where I stabbed myself with a pair of scissors when I was eight.

Vanity

I’m really pretty! My eyes are violet, which is really unusual, and my hair is so dark and glossy. I use honey on my skin, like Portia taught me, so it pretty much stays clear. I do an adorable little blinkyblinky thing when I’m trying to be cute!

Sometimes, I worry that I’m fat, but I try not to dwell on it.

Kinsey Scale

I’m straight, I think. Some girls are really cute, but I don’t like them like I like guys. Especially Sven. Sven is so cool. He’s really smart, and he has these cute little glasses, and I have this dream, of like, sitting on his lap and hugging him while he wheels us around. He has really muscley arms, and green eyes, and just a little bit of stubble.

Happiest Memory

Last week, Sven smiled at me, and I kept catching him looking at me, and we were kind of talking, and I said he should come visit me, and he said only if I buy him dinner, and I went all blushy and giggly, and does he want to go out to dinner with me, like a date?! Oh my god!

Also, last summer, when Portia and I spent every day out crafting in the garden, and every day was lazy and sunny and luxurious. And one day it was so hot that we put on swimsuits and danced under the sprinklers, and the cold water felt awesome!

Events to Erase

Oh my god, I really don’t know. Maybe the nightmares, do they count? I’ve had nightmares for the past few years, you see. That was part of the reason why Portia started homeschooling me, because I was having so much trouble sleeping. They’re kind of fun, sometimes though.

Maybe I could delete one of my sisters? That seems mean. Maybe Megan. I think Megan. Or Kathy. Does it have to be one?

Favourites

My favourite ice cream was black cherry, but someone just told me that Turkish Delight ice cream exists, so now I’m not sure. Portia said she’d get me some to try. With, like, chocolate ice cream and sprinkles. Yum!

My favourite colour is green. My favourite flowers are daisies.

Trust

I don’t really get this question. It’s a bit like when you’re reading a book, and someone gives you a funny look and asks if you believe everything you read. It’s hard to explain how you can know something isn’t literally true and yet still suspend your disbelief for the sake of enjoyment (when I mentioned these thoughts to Portia, she made me write an essay on the subject!).

I trust most people. I think most people don’t actively try to hurt each other and thus won’t try to hurt me. I don’t think I have any enemies. Maybe my sisters, but they’re not a big part of my life really.

Turning Points

When my parents had to give me up, because they loved me. That was a big turning point in my life. That and the dreams and being homeschooled. I don’t think I’m old enough to have any turning points from internal realisations yet.

Animal

If I were an animal I’d be something cute but poisonous. Like a scorpion! Or a snake! Except, not, because those are creepy. What’s cute and poisonous? A frog? I’d be a frog. A sweet little green frog.

Computer Savvy?

If I had to fix a computer, I could maybe figure it out with some help. I know the obvious stuff, like email and facebook, of course! And I can follow directions. Portia once got an old one, and made me take it apart and put it back together, but I was completely amazed when it actually worked!

My Bed

One time, I woke up upside down. I’m not quite certain how that happened. Generally, I wake up with one pillow on the floor, and the duvet like, sprawled everywhere.

Hot or cold?

I haaaaaaaaaaate hot! I hate when I get all sweaty and gross! But I don’t like being cold either, like when it’s all frosty and you can’t feel your fingers. I like when it’s like brisk and sunny, or when it’s like warm and I can sunbathe, but not when I have to walk around and stuff.

Night or Morning?

I’m a morning person! I love mornings; the sun’s shining, and it’s time to start the day! If only I didn’t feel so tired all the time; still, going to bed early helps a little with that.

Blood Relative?

I guess I know aunt Portia best. I live with her, after all! I know my parents love me; that’s why they gave me up. It was so hard for them. They both miss me everyday, and my mother lights a candle on my birthday, but it’s okay, because I know that Megan’s mom and my granddad forced them apart.

I’m not really close to my sisters, especially not Megan. Kathy and I see each other occasionally, but she’s mean and weird.

My Desk

My desk is pretty! I have a pink laptop all covered with purple and silver sticks, and a fluffy pink pen! I got some glittery pink trim, and it’s all around the edges, and I laid it with a purple tablecloth! And there are silvery jangly bells on the drawers! Portia says it’s too messy, but I can find everything, and it has silver tinsel! My desk is awesome!

Cook?

I’m a pretty good cook, I guess. I make a great apple pie. We have a tree in the garden, so it’s real easy. And one time I made acorn pancakes, and they came out really good. I’m good at soups and casseroles. I’m a vegetarian, so I can’t cook meat. I never learned.

Travelling

I like cycling! I love my bike! It’s pink, and Portia and I painted daisies on it with nail varnish. It has white handlebars, and trim, and four speeds, and I’ve just mastered 90rpm, so I can keep that going for ages! I thought of doing duathlons or something, but I don’t like swimming!

Irrational Fears?

I'm frightened of falling asleep. That's silly right? It's just, I had such terrible dreams when I was younger. Really weird and frightening. Like, I'd be strapped to a chair, being eaten alive by rats. Or I'd be chased over rooftops, or drowning. I go better at escaping though, as I got older. Like, when I had the same dream a few times in a row, I'd be a little bit better at climbing or untying myself. Or I'd somehow find a bike and escape that way.

What's your cutie mark?

I don't know what a cutie mark is, sorry. Do you mean the thing that makes me adorable? I crinkle my nose in a cute way, and when I'm confused I tip my head to the side. I know I'm doing it so it's more like a parody than actually being sickening. I have really big eyes, so when I wear make-up I accentuate those. They're violet, which is unusual! And they look so striking against my dark hair.

If you could timetravel?

I'd go back in time and see my parents, when they were young and in love. Maybe I could keep them together, if I were older, and not just a baby.

Are you superstitious?

No, of course not! I mean, I have my lucky charm bracelet, and I occasionally make deals with god, but that's not really superstition, is it? Just, you know, habit.

Your ideal romantic partner?

Ooooh. Hm. He'd be tall. Handsome, of course. Maybe, like, blond with blue eyes, or dark-haired. Or blond with brown-eyes! That'd be nice! And maybe he'd be in a wheelchair. Wheelchairs are awesome. My friend Sven – I've mentioned Sven, right? - has one called a dragon, which goes up and down in a really cool way! I could, like, sit on his lap and we'd go zooming around. Not on Sven's lap, of course! Just...someone like Sven. And maybe he'd have, like, Sven's eyes? Sven has pretty eyes, all greeny. And he has really strong arms from wheeling himself about in his old chair. And a nice smile.

Your Hands

Five of my nails are green and five are silver. The thumb, middle and little finger of my left hand are green, and the same fingers are silver on my right hand. The other nails on each hand are the other colour.

If I stab people with those nails they're injected with one of two substances that live in my blood stream. The silver nails inject people with a substance we call elixir, while the green ones inject them with venom. My venom makes people feel sick and weak; if I get them with all five, they can barely move. The elixir heals the venom. If someone just has the elixir without the venom, they feel great!

I'm generally on an even keel because I have equal amounts of both. It's only when I start losing one or the other that it all goes a bit weird. If I lose my elixir, I get my venom poisoning, and if I lose my venom, I get the boost from my elixir. It has to go into a living creature too, I checked. Plants don't work. If they did, I'd just drip all my venom into a tree everyday and walk around on an elixir high.

More Favourites

I like valentines day, and spring! I like cycling around and feeling the sun on my skin, but not when it's too hot. And I like hot chocolate, and bourbon biscuits, and tea. My favourite colour is pinky purple and silver. My favourite outfit is light green, but with like a silver scarf and some pinky purple bits on it and stuff. It's pretty!

If your life was a genre...

It'd be an indie film, like Happy-Go-Lucky! Or like a super hero movie? Or gritty teenage fiction! With lots of sunshine and pretty colours and music!

Smell?

I really like trying out new stuff, so I smell like whatever I try that week! This week I have a really nice strawberries and cream shower gel! And my shampoo has australian paw paw flower in it, and it smells amazing! And I have this really nice vanilla bean hand cream, and some passion flower perfume!

Two Songs

Oh gosh, two songs that describe me? Oh wow, what to choose! Maybe, like, What Makes You Beautiful? Hee! Or There She Goes?

Maybe Go the Distance from Hercules? That was such a good movie! But yeah...I've often dreamed of a far off place, where a great warm welcome would be waiting for me. It's about travelling, and searching for your real parents, and wanting them to love you when you get there.

And I Think I Love You for...oh, no I can't say. It's a secret!

Sleeping in the Indigo City

Citizens in the Indigo city sleep between rivers.  Every bed made has two wooden rivulets on it, one running down each side.  At some point when citizens are sleeping, they fill with water.  The water is blue, not the indigo of the waterways.

If you wake in the night, you can watch lily pads slowly drifting by.  When you awake fully, they are gone.  No one quite knows where they come from or where they go, but no citizen of the Indigo city would dream of sleeping in a bed without rivulets.

You Owe Me!

This story owes a lot of it's tone to Simon Rich's collection of short stories, The Last Girlfriend on Earth.  Take a look - it's really cheap on Kindle, and it's awesome.

----

The banker sat behind his desk, shuffling papers.  “It  looks like all this is in order.  How would you like to start making repayments?”

Caitlyn sat in shock.  The idea of being in debt was completely new to her; until today, she hadn’t realised she’d borrowed anything, not until this banker had got in touch and told her she had to start paying her loan back.

“What exactly am I supposed to have borrowed?” she asked.

“Well, let’s see,” he said, steepling his hands and looking up at the ceiling.  “There was my time for a start.  All those years I spent paying attention to you and running errands for you.  That could have been spent elsewhere.  All the time I spent thinking about you.  All the things I bought for you, all those birthday and Christmas gifts.”

“What?”

“You don’t even remember, do you?  Our first year of uni.  I spent the whole year spending my time on you, paying attention to you, and then, when I finally got up the courage to tell you how I felt, you said you only wanted to be friends!”

“...Thomas?”

“Yes, Caitlyn, of course it’s Thomas.  Or do you make a habit of taking up people’s time and attention?”

“I thought we were friends.”

“We were friends all right, but did you even consider going out with me?  Giving me a chance?  In fact, I’m going to add compensation for emotional distress onto this debt.  You can pay it off by giving me a chance.  Date me for a year – that same year I’ve already spent on you – and we’ll consider it even.”

“Are you insane?  I don’t owe you a relationship, Thomas.”

“You owe me time, attention, and money.  You took all those things from me, Caitlyn, and now I want them back.”

“I didn’t take them!  You gave them, of your own free will!  I can’t believe you’re acting like this, Thomas.  We were friends.  I wasn’t madly in love with you, no, but I didn't owe you that!  You can’t just demand that I give you a year of my life!”

He continued gazing at her over the desk in silence.  With disgust, she’d remembered how he’d do that at uni; go quiet and hope the awkward silence would net him the answer he wanted.

“What if I did give you a year of my life and I still didn’t want to be with you?” Caitlyn demanded.  Despite knowing the trick, the silence got to her.

“You’d have made me waste another year,” Thomas said, “so, obviously, you’d have to pay that back.  You can’t just play with people’s hearts like that Caitlyn.  I’m a nice guy, which is probably why nothing ever works out for me.  I did everything I could to make you happy, and you just wouldn’t even give me a chance.”

“Fuck you, you self-centred, entitled wanker.”

Caitlyn stormed out.  Left alone in the office, Thomas sighed.

“Nice guys always finish last,” he said, glumly.