Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Jeffie's InsaneJournal:

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Saturday, September 5th, 2009
11:34 pm	Engineer: i bet there's a pool Engineer: 'when will one shag the other' lechuza: THE WAY IT HAPPENED: lechuza: It was because of those bloody tents. lechuza: "Where's my tent, Harper?" lechuza: "It's this one, sir." lechuza: "I thought that was yours." lechuza: "It is, sir." lechuza: "We share a bloody tent?" Engineer: one man became very rich lechuza: "I didn't think you'd want to cart the extra, sir." Engineer: he has a point Engineer: go in there Engineer: shag Engineer: do it Engineer: shag the man Engineer: ( to kiss the girl) lechuza: And they go in the tent, and there's only one cot lechuza: And Sharpe just looks at Harper lechuza: who very mildly echoes what sharpe had said earlier Engineer: does he have a SERIOUSFACE or shit eating grin lechuza: about infantrymen sleeping on the ground lechuza: verbatim quoting with a mild comma sir at the end lechuza: and Sharpe grumps at him and Harper beds down on the ground and Sharpe looks at him and gets in the cot and rolls over and sits up and looks at Harper and lies down and sits up and kicks him lechuza: "I think your foot hit me, sir." lechuza: "Pat, you bloody idiot, get off the ground." lechuza: "Infantrymen always sleep on the ground, sir." Engineer: hahahaah sassss lechuza: "Don't be a bloody idiot, Pat. We're in a bloody tent, we might as well trade in our jackets and buy horses." lechuza: "I thought you didn't like horses, sir." lechuza: "Harper." lechuza: "Captain Sharpe, sir?" lechuza: "Get in the cot." lechuza: And they share the cot, and Sharpe is trying to pretend it's brothers-in-arms shit and that's all Engineer: lol lechuza: and time passes and sharpe drifts off a bit and then becomes aware that there is a harper pressed against his back lechuza: and harper asks very quietly "sir, are you sure you want to be sharing the cot?" lechuza: and then they end up fucking lechuza: frot Engineer: yessss lechuza: it is not like sex with a woman at all and they are both all scarred up and sharpe gets hung up on harper's scars and the broad chest and the muscles of his back and his arms and he smells like sweat and gunsmoke and whisky he wasn't supposed to have been drinking tonight it's nothing like with a woman all small and white and smooth and quiet not with harper hairy, sunburned from a v at his collar up, growling in gaelic, big strong hands - women are always afraid they're going to rip it off or something, pat's /strong/ and he knows how to handle a cock because he /has/ one :Vc Engineer: i Engineer: i like this Engineer: fappin lechuza: harper's free hand brushing down sharpe's back (scars like a washboard, he was flogged almost to the bone once when he was a private, before he became an officer, part of why he's so emo about having become an officer <:3c) to grip his hip, fingers splayed over part of his ass, holding him close and tight as they buck against each other Engineer: fucking hell woman lechuza: the kisses aren't like a woman at all either, forceful but gentle at the same time, the big irishman pressing in but letting Sharpe be the first one to open his mouth, stubble on both of them and hard kisses, and then harder as Sharpe gives in entirely and stops even comparing it to the women he's known - Harper's something quantitatively different, Harper's /Harper/, it's good enough just that way - Sharpe reaching down, trying to help, wrapping his hand around both their cocks but ballsing it up, getting his fingers mixed up in Harper's, but it's fine it's fine Harper's good enough for both of them, Sharpe just closing his eyes and arching, both of them blaspheming - Sharpe just cussing, London gutter-trash and Cockney accent, Harper blaspheming /religiously/ in his ancient Irish language torn with endearments Sharpe's heard him use for his gun before lechuza: he tastes like that whisky he wasn't supposed to be drinking tonight, too, of course Engineer: tastes like harper. lechuza: he wouldn't be harper if he didn't taste like whisky he wasn't supposed to be drinking lechuza: it's good so fast and hard and sharpe wants to bite, and this isn't some frail woman so he can and does, bites down on harper's shoulder and harper growls and bucks harder into him and sharpe just /loses/ it lechuza: and it makes a mess and they both end up bedding down on the ground like infantrymen should Engineer: together lechuza: yes Engineer: the end Engineer: wait Engineer: PS someone wins the whole pool because he totally called it complete with tent scenario Engineer: ~the end~ (Comment on this)
Friday, July 17th, 2009
3:51 am	yeah it's impossible to write fluff here FIVE TIMES CHAD RODRIGUEZ GOT HIGH AS A MOTHERFUCKER, AND ONE TIME HE DIDN'T 1. He remembers his first joint more vividly than his first sexual experience, probably because his first sexual experience was after quite a few other firsts in the pharmaceutical department. He was 12 years old and he got passed it by the guy sitting next to him at a dogfight Abuelo took him to. He's sitting on the bed of a pickup truck while Abuelo leans over the edge to place bets for both of them and suddenly this dude is just handing him this fucking bent-up weird-ass cigarette, and he starts to hand it back but the guy just laughs and tells him to try it before his grandfather turns around. He's had cigarettes before - well, he's had /a/ cigarette before, he didn't like it enough to repeat it and he won't pick up the habit seriously for several more years - so he knows how to smoke it, and he figures if it's something he'll probably get in trouble for he ought to do it, so he inhales. And immediately drops the fucking thing because his lungs are on /fire/ and this shit is /even worse than cigarettes/ and he's too busy coughing to keep track of anything else. The dude calls him a little pendejo and picks it up but he's laughing at him more than he's angry, and Chad's pretty sure he just got prank'd until he can breathe again and he realizes that it actually was pretty funny and really the taste's not that bad once the smoke's out of your lungs. Abuelo's worried as piss for a second, just because your grandson hacking his lungs out behind you is the kind of thing that worries a guy, but once he figures out what happened he thinks it's funny too, and is only mad at the dude for not passing it to /him/. By the second pass-round Chad's realized what it is (everybody at school claims to do pot all the time, but having actually done so himself he's now pretty sure they were all full of shit), and he and Abuelo just agree that this is one of the many things he doesn't tell his parents about when he goes home on Sunday. 2. In retrospect, dropping acid at SpyCon was probably a mistake. Especially on top of whatever it was he got off that guy in the parking garage. The patterns on the carpets are /amazing/, and the probie almost falls into them four times on his first attempt to cross the gaming floor and fetch a pack of cigarettes for the old dude who collared him right before the shit kicked in. He's kind of worried about it, honestly, because he is pretty sure he's too fucked up to swim if he slips off the orange bits and splashes into the green where the seaweed is. One of the cocktail waiters seems to be Jesus and is perfectly capable of walking across the surface of it, floating a miraculous inch or two above the writhing mass, and the Spy attaches himself to the back of him and rides along for the Second Coming. They're almost in the kitchen before Jesus turns around and says "You're not allowed back here, sir - shit, you're fucked up, man." And the spy just grins at him. "Yeah, I know!" Jesus' name is Solomon, and he doesn't understand when the incredibly fucked-up spy he's just met leeches onto his shoulder laughing and calling him Grundy, but he does understand that the guy apparently has more of whatever it is he took and that he's willing to share if Sol's willing to help him learn how to walk on the carpets. Hey, when you work at a place like that, you take what you get. So the spy gets escorted around a little by Jesus H. Solomon Grundy, and by the time he's ensconced at a back table in the main ballroom for M's speech he's reached a pretty good point in the high, and M only looks a /little bit/ like a dinosaur. Later, when he is slightly more sober, he'll adjust his opinion from "dinosaur" to "cockatiel with a nice haircut." And then he'll go find Sol, wait until his shift's over, and take some more. Vegas is no good if you're not fucked up, after all. And he's never been to the Circus Circus before. He'll never remember about that guy's cigarettes, though. 3. He's spending his winter break in Jamaica smoking high-quality dank right on the beach with some gringo wanna-be Rastafarian he met last night in a bar when his junior college roommate, the one who dropped out and somehow got into PHIRE, runs into him. They talk a little bit about old times that he doesn't really remember all that well before turning to what they're up to these days, and when the guy mentions the special menu at Taco Bell that shit sounds like the best idea /ever/ because he is /really fucking hungry/ all of a sudden. 4. He didn't even realize dispensers could get you high. Seriously, how'd he miss that? Probably by never being around one for more than a couple seconds at a time, or however long it took to toss a sapper on it and hide so he could laugh at the Engineer's histrionics over the destruction of his little metal babies. But here he is now, sitting with his back against one (the knobs are poking him in the shoulderblades but he doesn't care that much right now) and feeling more mellow than he has ever felt in his entire life. The guy who built it, this enemy Engineer who actually took the time to stitch up the fucking gash his Sniper put in his arm and then /told/ him to lean on the dispenser so the Unspec could help finish the job, is ignoring him now, doing whatever it is Engineers do when they're not hitting things with wrenches or saying dang-dag-dagnabbit-dang-dang-dang, and he has no idea how long he's been sitting here but the pain turned into an ache turned into itching turned into nothing turned into the most amazingly soothing but uplifting sensation (it's better than the time he stirred a couple codeine tabs into a Red Bull, but it's comparable) and he has absolutely no plans to go anywhere else ever. For the rest of his life. He thinks he's in love. 5. It turns out that the Unspec high mixes really well with just about anything else he can get his hands on, so he goes out of his way to get his hands on shit he doesn't usually bother getting. Which is how he ends up hotboxing his gas mask full of pot smoke until his eyes burn, then leaning on the dispenser until his eyes feel better, then repeating until he realizes he's almost forgotten the salvia. Then he hotboxes with /that/, and suddenly realizes that the world is made of circles that spin along concentric planes and govern all of reality with arcane mathematical principles that he can actually feel pressing sharp-edged into his skin; but the numbers are too heavy and he gets pushed down into the floor until he's one-dimensional like the circles, and this is what the world is, being a single one-dimensional point on the circle, and then he starts to realize that in real life he'd just been taking drugs again. Eventually he crawls over to the desk where his Best Friend Forever, the Amazing Motherfucker Who Gives Him Healiebees, is sitting, and wraps himself around his ankles as well as he can. "Do you ever think about math?" Medgineer just /looks/ at him. "Because I think math is really cool, mang. I respect math, you know?" "What are you on /this/ time, boy? Don't actually answer that, I don't actually care - " he adds with a sigh, and Spyro just smiles up at him beatifically because he has forgotten he has the mask on and twines tighter around Medgineer's legs. "You're the /best/," he says sincerely, and Medgineer takes that as the cue that Spyro's Had Way More Than Is Ever Good For Him and carefully picks him up and tucks him in on the cot in the corner. Medgineer is the best guy in the entire world. AND 1. It's been 24 hours since the last time he had a whiff of unspec, and 8 since he managed to crawl to the phone at the side of his hotel bed and get through to his own base to demand the BLU Engineer in the best attempt at an Official Voice that he can manage under the circumstances. He's tired as shit and can hardly muster up the will to breathe or blink, this is the worst withdrawal he's ever had for any drug he's ever taken in his life and what he can see of the world through slitted eyes is fucking boring without any intoxicants livening things up for him, but when he hears housekeeping's key in the lock he manages to roll over and watch the door. They're letting Riley in. "Boy, I can't believe I had to fly out here just to look after your dumb - " Chad just smiles at him and cuts him off, feeling at least 10% better immediately even if he doesn't see a toolbox in the luggage. "You're the /best/, mang. I love you." "You're a goddamn dumbass," and the grumbling continues well after Chad stops paying attention to it, until he's almost /almost/ within arm's reach and then all of his focus is going toward grabbing him by the belt and dragging him into the bed so he can wrap himself around the other man's body and snuggle. "What the hell are you doin', boy - " "Seriously," he murmurs sleepily, "the /best/. You actually came out here, mang. You totes can't deny you came out here just for me. Face it, you're goin' soft in your old age and you're in lurrrrrrve." "I'm makin' important medical observations on the effect of long-term abuse of Unspecified Liquid," Medgineer grumps. "Nu-uh." Spyro nuzzles the small of his back because that's the easiest bit to reach without moving much. "You're my /boyfriend/ and I'm never letting you live that down." Eyes are rolled silently. "But that's okay," Chad concludes, closing his eyes again, "because I like havin' you be my boyfriend. Even if you are a grumpy old man who won't admit you're my boyfriend, /boyfriend boy/." "You're terrible and you don't make no sense," says Medgineer, but he stays where he is on the bed with a mostly-sober Spyro in his civvies wrapped around him and feels something strangely like contentment. (Comment on this)
Friday, May 29th, 2009
4:20 am	saintlysimon29: haha yes i can do sniper/scout if it's SAM saintlysimon29: because sam has the hots for mikey lol actrss2bshp: lol actrss2bshp: THATS WHAT I JUST SAID hahahaha saintlysimon29: and mikey's so oblivious to everyone saintlysimon29: I WAS REPEATING saintlysimon29: FOR EMPHASIS saintlysimon29: mikey's just SO clueless.  he is fucking the spy and he totally doesn't realize if the sniper has the hots for him or nothing. saintlysimon29: all going up to the roof where sam is lurking, playing lasertag with the reds on an off day saintlysimon29: because he's bored. both of them are bored. but mikey's bored enough to have gotten himself kicked out of the barracks saintlysimon29: so he goes up to the roof and bugs the sniepr saintlysimon29: because the sniper doesn't seem to mind when he bugs him saintlysimon29: even if he interrupts range time the sniper'll actually talk to him until *mike* gets bored and leaves actrss2bshp: hahaha yes saintlysimon29: which is kinda nice, y'know, not gettin' shooed away saintlysimon29: 'cause most of 'em'll just be like OK GO AWAY NOW saintlysimon29: if he doesn't get distracted himself before they get tired of his chatterboxing saintlysimon29: so mike goes upstairs and just plunks himself down saintlysimon29: peering over the ramparts saintlysimon29: "i don't think they're noticin'" saintlysimon29: "d'you do this a lot? 'cause i don't think they even noticed.  they're pretty fuckin' dumb i think." actrss2bshp: lol saintlysimon29: and the sniper talks funny, all throwing in crazy-ass australian words, and mike tries to listen 'cause maybe he'll learn a new cuss lol actrss2bshp: LOL saintlysimon29: meanwhile sniper's drawing a bead right in the middle of the red scout's face, and he finally notices, going cross-eyed to look at the blue dot on his nose before flipping the V across the arena saintlysimon29: and ducking and hopping out of the way just in case saintlysimon29: their pyro's pointing at him - at their scout - with one hand to his mask, pantomime-snickering saintlysimon29: and mike's cracking up, and sam's chuckling his little sniper-chuckle, real quietly so he doesn't make the gun jiggle as he continues to follow the red around the yard saintlysimon29: "I wanna try it, can I try it?" saintlysimon29: "I promise I won't break nothin, for serious." actrss2bshp: awww saintlysimon29: and they argue a little about whether the scout can be trusted to handle the gun saintlysimon29: because if he drops it, or anything, it'll knock the scope out of whack, and it's two bitches in a bitch-boat to get it sighted back in, although of course the sniper says it in australian saintlysimon29: but eventually sixteen or seventeen BLOOD PROMISES are extracted from the scout and he is very solemnly handed the rifle actrss2bshp: lolll saintlysimon29: he doesnt have a hell of a lot of experience with a gun you actually gotta AIM, y'know. saintlysimon29: the scattergun you can - and usually do, 'cause you're fucking RUNNING at the time - shoot from the hip actrss2bshp: LOL saintlysimon29: if you actually took the time to shoulder and aim the thing you'd do pretty good with it - you can kill a sentry with the fucker that way - but it's designed to be effective without taking the time to aim, big old cone of lead shooting out, y'know saintlysimon29: and mike's rambling about this as he peers into the scope saintlysimon29: and the sniper's all YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG saintlysimon29: bodily moving the scout's hands, leaning into his back as he gets the gun seated right in his shoulder, reaching around to tap the kid's head becuase you're not supposed to tilt your head that much saintlysimon29: sure, he's not gonna be FIRING it, but you have to hold it as if you were going to anyway saintlysimon29: good trigger discipline, he notes, the kid's finger's very carefully splayed out on the stock above the trigger-guard, nowhere near pulling it - and he also notes that his hair smells nice, lol saintlysimon29: the scout's completely oblivious - just peering through the scope, holy christ this thing's got magnifying like whoa, the other side of the arena's like RIGHT THERE - lifts his head to look with his eyes, back down into the scope - this is pretty wicked actrss2bshp: lol his hair smells nice saintlysimon29: and he's trying to see if he can, like, blind the hat-stealing bastard by shining the laser into his eyes when he starts to notice that the sniper hasn't taken his hand off him yet saintlysimon29: and he's like what the fuck, am i the team slut now saintlysimon29: "Getting the hang of it?" the Sniper asks, real quietly, whether that's out of habit himself or because he doesn't want to interrupt the Scout's "sniping" who knows saintlysimon29: and mike just nods actrss2bshp: hahahaha the team slut saintlysimon29: "can you actually hit 'em from this far away?" he asks, figuring, y'know, distraction with technical questions saintlysimon29: "not really," the sniper admits, "there's too much lead on it to be very accurate at this distance" saintlysimon29: and mike nods again and grins and says "so can i try?" saintlysimon29: and the sniper kinda chuckles and reaches around him to check that he isn't GOING TO, that his finger's still not on the trigger, because NO YOU CAN'T saintlysimon29: but he's being good, he really is saintlysimon29: he doesn't want to fuck up like basically the only time he'll probabyl ever get to play with the gun, right? saintlysimon29: but goddammit does the sniper need to like, wrap himself around him like that saintlysimon29: because that's wicked distracting saintlysimon29: i mean he likes the guy and all but that doesn't mean - saintlysimon29: haha if it's mike it can't be porn because you know mike wouldn't do it lol saintlysimon29: "EVEN IF I THINK HE'S HOT AND I'M NOT SAYIN I DO, BUT EVEN IF I DID, I WOULDN'T JUST - I'M NOT FUCKIN' FUCKIN' HIM JUST TO PLAY WITH THE RIFLE" saintlysimon29: but he leans back and looks out over the field where the red scout's still flipping him the V even though he's not chasing him with the laser anymore, and he laughs, and the sniper laughs, and he finds himself leaning back against the sniper's chest, both of them chuckling saintlysimon29: because the sniper never did scoot back after helping him get the rifle seated actrss2bshp: hee saintlysimon29: and both of hte sniper's arms snake around him to take the rifle out of his hands, laying it down on the roof next to them, and then the arms are back around him, and he's like hay saintlysimon29: but he doesn't try anything, just lets 'em both sit there - "it's a mite fun, isn't it?" saintlysimon29: and the scout's kinda suspicious as to whether he means playing laser tag or - sitting here like this actrss2bshp: he actrss2bshp: e saintlysimon29: and then there'd be sex happening and i'm hitting the wall lol actrss2bshp: awww actrss2bshp: more alcohol~! saintlysimon29: HEP ME actrss2bshp: um actrss2bshp: maybe the sniper kisses his ear or something? saintlysimon29: and then you get the word bubble with an exclamation point in it saintlysimon29: above the scout's head actrss2bshp: the sniper all "shhhh -" saintlysimon29: the scout all NOT SURE HOW HE FEELS ABOUT THIS actrss2bshp: lol actrss2bshp: "look i ain't sure what you've heard but i -" saintlysimon29:  Melphaligal: you should finish it  Melphaligal: it doesn't need sex  Melphaligal: you can just do some CUDDLIN' GAEMS actrss2bshp: LOL actrss2bshp: lol it just switched in my head to being marie. saintlysimon29: hahahahahaha actrss2bshp: MARIE WEARING SNIPER DISGUISE saintlysimon29: hahahaha marie in a paper sniper mask actrss2bshp: "shhh, 'tit." he says, smirking, and mikey just about jumps out of his skin actrss2bshp: "JESUS FUCK, Spy." actrss2bshp: he can feel the spy's mouth curved up in a smile actrss2bshp: "I 'ave made eet clear to ze Sniper zat you are *mine*, Michel," he murmurs actrss2bshp: "but now eet seems zat I must make eet clear to *you* as well." saintlysimon29: mmm. actrss2bshp: the spy's mouth is warm and wet on his neck, and it suddenly occurs to the Scout that the Spy intends to *mark* him. actrss2bshp: (you know you can pop in at any time yes?) saintlysimon29: yes saintlysimon29: am drinking saintlysimon29: will try actrss2bshp: "I -" comes out hoarse, and the Scout clears his throat. "I fuckin' know, alright?" actrss2bshp: The Spy's mouth releases him slowly, and he thinks the Spy is appraising his fucking handiwork in the brief pause that follows. Then there's wet teasing pressure again, as the Spy's tongue presses along the now-sensitized skin. "Do you, petit?" in his ear, and then his mouth is back to that same patch of skin - means to give him a fucking *welt*, the fucking cockfag - and there's a sharp sting of *teeth* suddenly. actrss2bshp: He fucking *means* to yelp, seriously, but what comes out is a low *moan* and that isn't what he meant at *all* - saintlysimon29: i'm drinking more saintlysimon29: actrss2bshp: "I 'ave made eet clear to ze Sniper zat you are *mine*, Michel," he murmurs  actrss2bshp: "but now eet seems zat I must make eet clear to *you* as well."   is just hot as fuck you know actrss2bshp: :) saintlysimon29: heh, posted in chan (Link: http://www.anonib.com/_tf2chan/index.php?t=327)http://www.anonib.com/_tf2chan/index.php?t=327 ; I POSTED THINGS WITH COCKS IN IT IN CHAN EVEN IF ITI S THINGS WITH COCKS YOU WROTE FIRST actrss2bshp: lollll saintlysimon29: mikey kinda wants to slide out and get up, fuck you, marie, but he *can't*, and he blames this on the arms still wrapped around him, not at all on his legs which don't seem to be obeying orders actrss2bshp: (i kind of think that marie should make him come in his pants. hahaha) saintlysimon29: (hahah yes) saintlysimon29: (and then - he WOULDA fucked the sniper. he WOULDA.  or at least he woulda let the sniper fuck him.) saintlysimon29: (SLUT) actrss2bshp: lolll saintlysimon29: YOU CANT DENY IT saintlysimon29: HE WOULDA DONE IT saintlysimon29: HE WOULDA LET THE SNIPER FEEL HIM UP saintlysimon29: TEAM SLUT actrss2bshp: (Link: http://www.anonib.com/_tf2chan/images/789/minipyro_anonib.png)http://www.anonib.com/_tf2chan/images(Link: http://www.anonib.com/_tf2chan/images/789/minipyro_anonib.png)/789/minipyro_anonib.png OMG SO CUTE saintlysimon29: EEEEEEEEE actrss2bshp: oh right we were making scout come in his pants. actrss2bshp: i got distracted. saintlysimon29: hahahahaha actrss2bshp: i got distracted. saintlysimon29: you said taht yes actrss2bshp: LOL actrss2bshp: my brain is apparently broked i'm sorry saintlysimon29: SO saintlysimon29: COMING IN HIS PANTS actrss2bshp: ummm actrss2bshp: The Spy murmurs in French, words he doesn't understand broken by the press of lips against his neck, the scrape of teeth, the occasional nip or lick actrss2bshp: but the Spy's arms stay firmly wrapped around his chest, stubbornly unmoving actrss2bshp: and when he tries to move - not to touch himself, fucking perv - the Spy's hold tightens, holds him fast actrss2bshp: He's not fucking begging. ("Fuck, Marie, please - fucking *know* already, c'mon, I gotta -") saintlysimon29:   chikkiboo is the resident pyro  Melphaligal: lol everything get's double letter's if I am writing  Karmabot: I'm the Engineer. :V I solve problems.  Melphaligal: or one less letter  Melphaligal: or some letter that doens't even belong  Karmabot: Idea problems.  Melphaligal: Ummm I am Melphaligal and I suck at everything?  Karmabot: I am also apparently wikipedia  chikkiboo: fire is just so *pretty*  Khorøsho left chat.  chikkiboo: if i ever disappear completely i guess check the Dallas Morning News for somebody burning down an entire block by playing with matches while drunk  Melphaligal: I lite matches at work  Melphaligal: I just sit outside liting htem then puttin gthem out  chikkiboo: "the 911 call was unintelligible due to the caller refusing to remove her gas mask"  chikkiboo: "mph'ph mm fwah!"  Melphaligal: lol  Karmabot: lol   actrss2bshp: hahahahahaha actrss2bshp: i thought you weren't going to go by a name that could be tied back to you? saintlysimon29: my steam ID was before i channed saintlysimon29: so my chan ID is differnt saintlysimon29: the other *channers* can know who i am but i don't want random goons finding me, y'know? actrss2bshp: i have no idea what that means actrss2bshp: i see saintlysimon29: the chat is through steam saintlysimon29: and i got the steam ID months ago so vinnie could get me to play D&D online with him whcih i never did actrss2bshp: lol you don't want goons all "inedible penguin is chantard!" saintlysimon29: lol i don't want goons all INEDIBLE PENGUIN WRITES TF2 PRON AND DRAWS THE SCOUT IN ADRES saintlysimon29: A DRESS actrss2bshp: He's not fucking begging, but his shorts are wet with pre, his cock slickly sliding against the fabric with every small movement he makes saintlysimon29: and you know he can't keep quiet, so there's tiny noises escaping him, and he HATES himself for it actrss2bshp: (psst he is totally begging) saintlysimon29: lol actrss2bshp: actrss2bshp: He's not fucking begging. ("Fuck, Marie, please - fucking *know* already, c'mon, I gotta -") saintlysimon29: lol saintlysimon29: marie's got his arms wrapped around in such a way as to pin mike's arms? actrss2bshp: He can't help moving his hips, knowing if he moves too much the Spy's hold on him will constrict again, but - actrss2bshp: yes, like - around his upper arms actrss2bshp: if he *tried* he could move actrss2bshp: but - bondage in *spirit* actrss2bshp: if he wrenched himself out marie might leave actrss2bshp: or might *actually* tie him up saintlysimon29: yea saintlysimon29: h saintlysimon29: heh, whic'd be worse actrss2bshp: better to just *behave* actrss2bshp: especially since they are semi-public, yeah? saintlysimon29: yeah saintlysimon29: haha i can't get over saintlysimon29: that he WOULDA let the sniper fuck him saintlysimon29: SLUT saintlysimon29: YOU ARE THE TEAM SLUT NOW actrss2bshp: lol saintlysimon29: ALWAYS THE SCOUT IS THE SLUT saintlysimon29: IT IS PART OF BEING SCOUTY actrss2bshp: lol actrss2bshp: but he's mostly saying that actrss2bshp: because he's whining that the spy plays tricks on him all the time saintlysimon29: you know he woulda done it though saintlysimon29: he woulda fucked the sniper actrss2bshp: lol and then rationalized the hell out of it saintlysimon29: lol yes actrss2bshp: all "well i-i'm a guy! guys like sex!" actrss2bshp: and privately "i wanted to see what it was like - with someone else" actrss2bshp: and "oh god I really am gay FUCK" saintlysimon29: him and the sniper would end up being really casual fuck buddies like zed and ratbarf actrss2bshp: and "PRISON SEX. IT WAS TOTALLY PRISON SEX." saintlysimon29: just they're both horny let's do it actrss2bshp: lol meanwhile mikey is wet like a girl and trying not to beg. actrss2bshp: he's so PITIFUL actrss2bshp: and we keep WANDERING OFF actrss2bshp: biting his lip against the really truly *stupid* things that want to fall out of his mouth saintlysimon29: fuck random interjection saintlysimon29: 'what is the fuckign name of the leg-wraps saintlysimon29: the wwi british army did leg-wraps actrss2bshp: i haven't the foggiest actrss2bshp: i know i've read it before actrss2bshp: but i can't recall at the moment actrss2bshp: trews? saintlysimon29: PUTTEES actrss2bshp: YES actrss2bshp: "*Please*," he hears himself sob, like a fucking *pussy*, but there's not enough *friction* and he's fucking *dying* actrss2bshp: The Spy - so fucking slowly - moves his hand to the front of the Scout's pants. "So needy, chouxcrout," he murmurs, but the Scout hardly hears him against the rush of blood in his ears as he humps against the pressure of the Spy's hand. actrss2bshp: he's probably saying embarassing things but I am reluctant to put such words in his mouth. saintlysimon29: ;p; saintlysimon29: lol actrss2bshp: much like I'm sure there's French that could be added actrss2bshp: but since I don't speak French I leave that up to you, my dear~ saintlysimon29: i can never think of what to say saintlysimon29: i fyou tell me the sort of thing to say saintlysimon29: i can say it actrss2bshp: i don't know how a Frenchman dirty-talks! saintlysimon29: NEITHER DO I actrss2bshp: but you're practically french, you can do it better than I. *nods*. saintlysimon29: most french 'dirty talk' is just whispered endearments which are mostly 'my little food item" actrss2bshp: endearments are not dirty! saintlysimon29: french people don't *get* "dirty" really actrss2bshp: dirty talk is like "the noises you make, you should hear them -" and like actrss2bshp: "you make me so wild, I want you all the time, I want to tie you up and keep you in my bed" sort of things saintlysimon29: ton bruits, tu devrais les entendre - saintlysimon29: *TES saintlysimon29: TES BRUITS actrss2bshp: are you honestly telling me frenchmen don't *get* that sort of thing saintlysimon29: haha actrss2bshp: because HONESTLY if that is true actrss2bshp: then i am disappointed. actrss2bshp: FRENCHMEN JUST LOST 2500 POINTS OF HOTNESS. saintlysimon29: lol saintlysimon29: i'm sre they do saintlysimon29: it just wasnt covered in my six years of curricula actrss2bshp: lol actrss2bshp: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN actrss2bshp: haha actrss2bshp:  *clearly* when we go to vegas actrss2bshp: we need to try to find one of those cirque du soliel performers actrss2bshp: and try to bring them back to our room. saintlysimon29: tu es *a moi*, mon amoureux, et je te garderai a moi - actrss2bshp: although most of them are quebecois aren't they. actrss2bshp: DAMMIT. actrss2bshp: second solution: FRENCH PORN. saintlysimon29: (that was you are *MINE*, and i am going to *KEEP* you to myself - ) actrss2bshp: GUH. actrss2bshp: hissed in his ear, fiercely, and the Scout cries out and shoots into the already sticky mess of his shorts saintlysimon29: god i can *hear* the way the spy would say that saintlysimon29: i can hear it in my head saintlysimon29: and i wish i could make you hear it actrss2bshp: you just want me to go :JAKLJJELKJDJKJREKJDded saintlysimon29: heh basically? saintlysimon29: is there somethign wrong with that? actrss2bshp: hahaha actrss2bshp: i am sort of hearing it in like - the narcoleptic argentinean voice. saintlysimon29: haha actrss2bshp: the translation, i mean saintlysimon29: somehow saintlysimon29: the aspirated french R saintlysimon29: is hitting me as REALLY HOT right now lol saintlysimon29: in GARDERAIR saintlysimon29: garderai actrss2bshp: in that NEVER! FALL IN LOVE! WITH A WOMAN WHO SELLS HERSELF! saintlysimon29: i can't even spell it phonetically because there is not a character that means that aspirated french R saintlysimon29: gahh-deh-hhray saintlysimon29: garhh-deh-hhreh, really saintlysimon29: 'since they don't AY liek americans saintlysimon29: and now i'm sidetracked saintlysimon29: wondering which french accent the spy has saintlysimon29: is it the one that would elide the S saintlysimon29: between 'tu es' and 'a moi' saintlysimon29: so it's tu eh a mwah or tu eh za mwah saintlysimon29: i like the elided S saintlysimon29: so i'm gonna say saintlysimon29: it's tu eh za mwah, mon amouruh, zeh je gahdehrreh a mwah actrss2bshp: it really - you have to remember we said he was spanish-french saintlysimon29: i'm not saintlysimon29: really celar saintlysimon29: on the regional distribution of the french accents saintlysimon29: i just know that there's one that elides saintlysimon29: and one that doesnt saintlysimon29: my professor who was originally from moscow saintlysimon29: did not elide saintlysimon29: but theo thers all did actrss2bshp: WE HAVE A DANCE actrss2bshp: IN THE BROTHELS OF BUENOS ARES actrss2bshp: i am tempted to have the spy pull him roughly around actrss2bshp: and kiss him actrss2bshp: and then just *leave* saintlysimon29: poor confused and horny mikey actrss2bshp: lol perhaps passing the rifle to the actual sniper as he leaves actrss2bshp: poor confused and *messy* mikey. saintlysimon29: lol saintlysimon29: and then poor confused ACTUAL SNIPER hahaha actrss2bshp: lol actrss2bshp: well actrss2bshp: he's not so confused. actrss2bshp: remember "i have made eet clear to ze sniper zat you are *mine*" saintlysimon29: haha actrss2bshp: i imagine him stepping out of the shadows actrss2bshp: and twisting the sniper's arm behind his back actrss2bshp: pressing him into the wall facefirst actrss2bshp: "Ze Scout ees MINE." saintlysimon29: so possessive. actrss2bshp: heh. actrss2bshp: it definitely isn't fair though, that mikey's gotta be monogamous but marie isn't at *all* saintlysimon29: 4 srs saintlysimon29:  hahahahahaa I KEEP GOING BACK TO saintlysimon29: HE WOULDA DONE THE SNIPER actrss2bshp: LOL saintlysimon29: haha "bloody fuck, mate, i haven't done arse-all to 'im" (Comment on this)
12:58 am	this is all i feel like writing on the subject at the moment THE STORY OF SPYRO'S ARM (Or: How I Stopped Worrying and Learned Not to Dick Around with Telepahaha you know I can't even finish that sentence) It was after Spyro got outed, and the only pyronic accoutrement he'd retained was the gas mask.  It looked cooler than a balaclava, marked him out immediately as Different than the Average Spy, and doubled as a bong for those times when all he really wanted to do was hotbox his face.  Absolutely no downside!  Well, except for the whole Corey Hart effect (I wear tinted welding lenses at night so I can so I can have no idea what the fuck is going on if the lights are off) and the way his voice got all muffled so some of his best one-liners got lost in the hudda hudda huh, but this isn't a story about Spyro's gas mask, it is a story about his left arm, specifically how he lost it and was miserable and then got better again and continued to be a jackass douche. Really it'd all happened, in his estimation, because he'd made the mistake of running one particular joke into the ground.  Keeping on doing something long after it has ceased to be funny is funny in itself if you're doing it right, but losing an arm for a week or so is way worse than getting banned for a few days for old meme. The way it worked - a time-honored tradition - was to find a teleporter entrance and a Sniper who was engrossed in his work, then carefully drag the teleporter close to the Sniper, so that the next time he adjusted his position for a clearer shot he'd step on it (or just trip and fall over, which was sort of like a booby prize).  Having previously dragged the matching exit to the most annoying place possible (the sewers, the other team's bathroom) was optional, but lulzy. Spyro considered Sniper (previously a teammate, but recently switched to BLU) to be one of his best friends, with the entire routine - teleporter lulz, visit afterwards to laugh at him, arm whacked off by machete, run downstairs to Medgineer to have it sewn back on, spend rest of day getting hopped up on healiebees, rinse and repeat - a comfortable and constantly-amusing (except during the highly painful interval between "machete" and "Medgineer") running joke between them.  Sniper choosing to turn the joke around and play a teleporter trick of his own wasn't a bad idea in theory - in fact, it could almost have made Spyro's heart swell with the tender pride of a teacher watching a slightly-retarded student finally catch on to the lesson - but in practice, just like in Survival Mode, it didn't end well. What exactly Sniper thought he was going to accomplish remains unclear to this day.  Maybe he didn't mean to actually hack Spyro's arm off this time, or maybe he just failed to think his cunning plan through.  What he DID accomplish was a spot of the old chop-chop and a push down the ramp toward the intel room, where a RED teleporter entrance was already waiting right where Spyro always landed to bawl for Medgineer's medical attention. A whir, some flashy lights, and Spyro ended up bleeding out in the sewers. He actually didn't notice the missing arm until he went to light his customary respawn cigarette and had a hell of a time working the lighter with an empty sleeve.  As soon as the wait was up he dashed to the BLU side, flung himself at Medgineer and wailed, "I accidentally my whole arm!  All the way up to the Alamo!" Of course they had to shut the entire base down until the Respawn techs could come and fix it, and of course for some reason everyone on both teams thought it was all Spyro's fault.  (Where on earth they could have gotten that idea was the object of spirited and loud debate on Spyro's part for the duration, when he wasn't being mopey - and a mopey Spyro being simultaneously the saddest and most annoying thing in the entire world, his being a dickhead and blaming Sniper was actually preferable.) (Comment on this)
Monday, May 11th, 2009
1:22 am	The Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau, a Chipmunk tribe Amongst the race of intelligent chipmunks, there are many tribes.  The Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau are visually indistinguishable from the Eastern Chipmunk (Tamius striatus); other tribes may appear to be other species.  All intelligent chipmunks (Chip'tichiti in their own language) have life spans somewhat longer than their wild and unintelligent cousins (an average of 10-20 years, depending upon species, with full maturity reached in five seasons in almost all species), and although they could feasibly interbreed, such an action would be looked down upon in Chip'tichiti society.* The Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau, like most Chip'tichiti, are a rambunctious group, tending toward rowdiness and competition amongst themselves.  Generally, they will steal anything that's not tied down (with two exceptions provided in the "Chipmunk Code of Honor"), but since everyone is constantly stealing from everyone else, it is not considered a serious crime.  Infighting is common, and whenever two or more adults meet, fur is likely to fly over some imagined slight (or an attempt to steal).  However, again, this is done almost good-naturedly; it's rare for a Chip'tichiti to bear a grudge. The Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau tribal society is anarchic.  There is no government and no class system.  Even wealth is more or less equal due to the rampant theft.  Posse justice is applied when necessary, in the rare case of a murder or an infraction of the Code.  There are few restrictions on appropriate mates; one does not mate with one's littermates - the siblings who were birthed in the same litter and raised in the same nest - nor with any chipmunk who is not intelligent, but nearly anyone else is fair game.  Long-term romantic relationships are rare and the society has no concept of marriage, although if mating results in a litter, both parents share the same den until the offspring reach their 4th season.  Females are only fertile in the spring, thus restricting them naturally to one litter per year, but mating for non-procreative purposes is biologically possible and physically fun, and therefore happens quite as often as it tends to amongst Humans. As natural prey animals, they have developed some forms of weaponry to protect themselves.  War between tribes is nearly unheard of; defense is generally against predators.  Slings and arrows (often coated with poison for great efficacy) are common, and nearly all youths learn proficiency in one or both during their "green summer," their fifth season.  They are also naturally gifted in stealth - not solely due to their small size, as they can also successfully conceal themselves from each other and other creatures of similar size; both nature and culture make them adept thieves, and their tiny hands are very dexterous despite the lack of opposable thumbs.  They are hunter-gatherers, eating nuts, berries, seeds, fallen fruit, mushrooms, some insects, eggs, and almost anything else they can find; they bury multiple caches of nonperishable food, and regularly rob from each other's caches as well.  Their homes, or dens, are generally underground structures, although some prefer to live in hollow trees or fallen logs to save themselves the work of digging out a tunnel structure.  Dens may be inhabited by an individual or by a group; as noted above, a litter is raised by both parents in the mother's den, after which the young and their father may move out or continue to live in separate nests inside the same den, depending on how close the family feel to each other.  Unrelated individuals who are close friends may share a den, but maintain separate nests.  (Note the distinction between one's den and one's nest, which is morally important in their society; it could be likened to the difference between the house and the bedroom.)  The Chip'tichiti term "ki'chiwe" refers to the group of family and friends to which one feels close enough to share a den, whether one actually does share a den with them or not. The material culture is relatively inadvanced, due in part to their forest-living nature and in part to their short attention spans.  Most trade is done on the barter system, although those who live near Human settlements often accept minted coins that they can use in that town's market.  Woodworking is very common, with most carving roughed in with the teeth and finished with knives. Production of plant-derived substances, including poisons, medicines, paints and dyes, recreational drugs (the Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau are noted amongst Chip'tichiti tribes for their production of a popular stimulant from a plant native to their territory; a neighboring tribe trades for it with their own specialty, a euphorigenic sedative.  Drug use is common and accepted amongst the Chip'tichiti, and their trade with Humans is generally for procuring alcohol), and some easily-produced chemicals such as saltpeter, charcoal, and their product of black powder (used in explosive traps to protect tribal settlements from predators) is done on a small scale.  All industry is run out of the den, with training done via a sort of ad-hoc apprenticeship. The arts known to them include painting (artists are often hired to paint abstract murals on den walls, although representational art is rare, perhaps because one chipmunk looks pretty much like another chipmunk), woodcarving, and music - generally vocal, without lyrics and more or less similar to birdsong, with some percussion and a sort of whistle made from woody grass stalks, called 'ee.  Written literature is almost unknown; writing is used only for recordkeeping or communication.  The closest thing to poetry is a sort of 'flyting,' an insult battle between two or more participants in which each attempts to top the other, with rhyme taking a backseat to alliteration and assonance. The Chip'tichiti in general, and the Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau in particular, are very proud of their status as intelligent chipmunks, considering themselves to be a very large step higher and more important than their regular woodland cousins.  As such they have tended to adopt as much of Human culture as can comfortably fit their lifestyle.  Knowledge of Human Common speech is ubiquitous, and they often use it even amongst themselves (their own language being closely related to the chittering of common chipmunks, though more complex and expressive; all Chip'tichiti can understand everything a common chipmunk says, but the reverse is not necessarily true.).  They make and use furniture and install doors and locks on their dens and caches.  They do not wear much in the way of clothes, but they gather or trade for wool and make fabric to use for the production of pouches, sacks, bags and backpacks in order to carry more things around (a Chip'tichiti generally has a great deal of food on his person, along with everything he wouldn't want stolen from his den and anything he finds along his way that's small enough to carry), and in winter months (or year-round according to personal taste) they will wear scarves and hats. The Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau have a special sort of friendship/ally relationship with woodpeckers.  In fact, the name of the tribe means "Woodpecker People" - the ekki'ekki'ekki' part is an onomatopoeic representation of the sound of a woodpecker knocking on a tree.  They often live in logs or tree-trunks that have been hollowed out by the birds.  They also share information and sometimes food, with the chipmunks telling the woodpeckers of the locations of good termite nests and the birds in turn reporting any particularly rich stores of seeds and nuts.  An Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau will often catch a beetle or grub that's not considered palatable food to a chipmunk and keep it in a pocket specifically to share with any woodpecker he might come across.  Personalities tend to be hyperactive and antagonistic; even a venerable elder of the tribe is unlikely to have much more maturity than a Human frat boy.  However, almost paradoxically given the amount of theft and fighting going on, they value loyalty very highly.  A band of ki'chiwe will stick together through thick and thin, even while they're raiding each other's caches, and one of the worst insults that can be levelled at an Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau is that of being a backstabber - "he fouls his friends' nests."  What writing the Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau do is in Common.  Written representations of the Chip'tichiti tongue use the apostrophe to represent two different sounds, a click or a glottal stop, depending upon whether it's being used as a consonant or a vowel. Names can generally be translated into a word, phrase, or full sentence in Common; amongst the Ekki'ekki'ekki'k'pau the name takes the form of (in order) the den in which the individual was born, the birth order in the litter, and a final syllable indicating gender ('k for males, t' for females).  Chikkawuk'k'klichukkawichi'i'k means "the den in the roots of the elm near the creek, third, male."  Names are often abbreviated (in this case, to Chikka), and those who become involved with non-chipmunk society either use the abbreviated form of their name or (especially if their names are particularly hard for a non-chipmunk to pronounce) take a nickname that fits the society they're interacting with. THE CHIPMUNK CODE No stealing from nests. No stealing from those raising litters. No raping your littermates. Protect your ki'chiwe. Respect the woodpecker. * Specifically, they'd all make fun of the one who did it and say "you fucked a retard." (Comment on this)
Saturday, May 9th, 2009
4:42 am	Bond - Our protagonist, a Spy (q.v.) named in full Bond d'Anger Montaigne. Also James Bond, a pop-culture figure portrayed in a series of books and films with which Bond d'Anger is familiar and whom he idolized growing up. That Bond actually ended up being part of the inspiration and namesake of that character is the germ that sprouted the entire plot. Briefcases - Used derisively (as in the phrase "stealing briefcases") as shorthand for the boring "real life" version of espionage work, as opposed to the glamourous ideal of James Bond. Chesterfield Kings - Cigarettes which used to be pretty popular, but are now very rare and hard to find. Bond smoked them in the modern day in order to be deliberately anachronistic, and smokes them in the past because why change what works? Communist Hitlers - The goal of the first evil plot they foiled, and the only one (out of many subsequent technological impossibilities; see Laser Death Machines) that Bond himself ever took issue with as being impossible. Crackerjack - The Quebecois style of swearing involves stringing together a lot of words that don't make sense in translation. In English, Bond uses the same pattern by stringing together as many English swear words as he can ("Christ goddamn" is his favourite relatively-mild expletive), and sometimes slips in words that aren't actually swear words just because they sound good and fit the rhythm. Crackerjack is one of the most common of these, and eventually became accepted in the pair's personal lexicon as the ultimate superlative. (Being told that you or something you did is crackerjack is high praise.) d'Anger - Bond's mother's surname - a family of well-regarded Spies, of which he is the last. He's not actually very good - mediocre at best - at being a "briefcase spy," and is sort of the black sheep of the family. Dare ya - The key phrase to making James do anything, up to and including the impossible. Engineer - A profession very similar to its real-world counterpart of the same name, but for two things: (1) the state of technology is different, such that teleporters (for instance) are an accepted and common thing amongst their group, though not the general public; (2) that group (which includes other jobs, including Spies, q.v.) is a sort of secret society operating below the public radar and developing even more crazy sci-fi technology. Basically, Engineers build things. Being a genius is a plus, but not a prereq. James, of course, is one. (Well, both. An Engineer and a genius.) FUCKING SPIES - James' catchphrase. See Spy Logic. Gadgets - BOND FUCKING LOVES THEM Genre-awareness - Bond has it. He's seen the James Bond films, read the books, seen other similar films (In Like Flint, etc.), and understands the rules by which that world is supposed to work. It's a form of augmented Spy Logic. Girls - The best kind are the ones with names that are sexual double entendres. HQ - The headquarters for UIEEI (q.v.), which operates under a front as a Las Vegas casino/hotel. Card-carrying members can get rooms at the hotel for free. IBAE - The Engineer Union. Highly regulated to the point of being anal-retentive (as are most Engineers). James - The other protagonist; Bond's partner, at first reluctantly and eventually of his own free will. Much more practical and down-to-earth than Bond, but also a lot less self-motivated. Laser Death Machines - Like "briefcases," this serves as a catch-all phrase for the evil plots of supervillains - usually things that are technologically impossible or just impractical, such as blowing up the moon. M - The president of UIEEI Quebec - Bond's home province. He's spent significant amounts of time in both Québec and Montréal (thoroughly a city boy). When he's in the past, he really misses Timbits. Spy - Another of the jobs alluded to in the entry for Engineers. If Engineers build things, Spies break them. They are the natural predator and enemy of the Engineer. Spy Logic - "Because it works in the movies." Spyfi - The general setting, more intensely in the past than the present - unpossible technology and unlikely scenarios as a background layer supplementing the real world. Supervillains - There aren't enough of them these days. Guys who want to take over the world or have some other dastardly scheme, with an outlandish plot and a Laser Death Machine. Technobabble - Bond makes absolutely no attempt to understand sciencey stuff, and prefers to make up his own technobabble explanations for things - that way, he still won't understand them, but at least they'll sound cool. This is Spy Logic in action. Time travel - The crux of the plot. Not as much of a stretch in their world (where teleportation - instantaneous travel through space - is already possible) as in ours, but still considered impossible until Bond dares James to prove it. UIEEI - The Spy union. Extremely loosely organized. The membership card is also the casino's slots club card; the only real prereq for using it as a membership card in general is the knowledge that you can do so. (Comment on this)
Saturday, April 18th, 2009
11:21 pm	"I hate runnin' the duck game," grumbled a muscular man in a black-and-yellow STAFF hoodie, leaning against one of the oversized stuffed animals slung around his stall. He reached out a foot, clad in a heavy engineer's boot, and nudged the kiddy-sized wading pool that filled the enclosure. Water sloshed out, carrying one of the rubber ducks with it. "And I hate this time of night. There's never any /kids/ around. I hate dealin' with teenagers." The gangly figure behind the counter at the darts game across the midway aisle scoffed. "Earlier you said you hate kids." "I do! I hate kids, and their parents, and smart-assed teenagers, and cotton candy, and the duck game - " "Then why don't you switch? You know they wanna get Freddy off the Zipper." "I hate the Zipper. Hell, I hate /opping/." The darts man rolled his eyes. "Go take fifteen and get yourself laid or something, asshole. I'll get a greeny to cover." Francis straightened up immediately. "Thanks man." He kicked the fallen duck into the air, caught it, and dropped it back into the pool. "Maybe I'll go kick that little French fag's ass and steal some of my cigarettes back." As he walked off, the darts man leaned over his counter to call after him, cackling with laughter. "I tell ya to get laid, you head toward HIM!" The retreating figure turned to flip a double bird back down the aisle. "I /told/ you I'm gonna /kick his ass/!" The darts man kept laughing. Francis flipped him off again and kept walking. The Yo-Yo was at the far end of the midway, set away from the lights and bustle of the rest of the carnival. It was usually quiet at this time of night, and tonight was no exception. There was no sign of the operator. Francis kicked up the coloured tarp around the bottom of the ride tower. "Hey, faggot." A figure sat in the shadows behind the tarp, the sleeves of the carnival staff hoodie caught up with duct tape for scaling his ride for repairs, He looked up, the edges of the hood blocking the distant fair lights into sharp shadows over his eyes. "Seeg?" Francis automatically pulled out a softpack of Liggetts and handed one over. A moment later he twitched as if kicking himself. "Goddammit! I was comin' over to get back at you for stealin' all my smokes!" The ride operator snickered, then shrugged and pulled a hand out of his hoodie pocket - briefly flashing a small pipe. Francis shrugged. "That works. Move over." He let the tarp fall back over them as he sat down under the ride. Hunter - the nom de guerre he'd acquired amongst the carnies after the time he caught a rabbit running down the midway - skidded to one side and packed the bowl. They passed it back and forth a little, Hunter keeping his eyes on the slit in the tarp where he could monitor the entrance to his ride, Francis grumbling. "I hate runnin' games. /You/ got a spot you can /sit down/. You know, in this town the pigs don't even let ya smoke a cigarette on the midway? Gotta put it out every time one of those bastards heads down my aisle. And I hate the fuckin' /duck game/. Do you know how many times I gotta keep some asshole kid from swimming in the damn pond? And their fuckin' parents bitching 'cause little Joey didn't win a goddamn Snoopy the size of a truck on a 25-cent ticket - " Hunter snorted. "Fuck you, man. All you gotta do is push a couple buttons, you don't gotta listen to Joe Jackass and Missus Jackass going off about how we're a scam and boo hoo fucking hoo." "Shut up," said Hunter. "Fuck you!" Francis flipped him off and decided he didn't have to put up with the kid's company any longer; he leaned forward and started to flip the tarp up to leave. Instantly he was sprawled on his back, his head narrowly missing a large metal strut. "Jesus Christ!" Hunter sat up from where he'd pounced Francis at the hips, a fierce grin visible beneath the shadows of his hood. "What the hell did you do that for, you faggot?" Francis tried to scoot out from under him. Hunter reached out and plucked the pipe from Francis' hand, still grinning. "That doesn't mean you gotta /rape/ me." Francis pushed him back roughly. SEX OCCURS In a few years Francis' thinning hair would lead him to shave his head, but for now he still had a thick dark mullet; Hunter mouthed at his neck, right where the party in the back of his hairstyle curled so fetchingly against his shoulder, the wavy tendrils tickling his lips and nose. THE PRECEDING BIT WAS BASICALLY TE WHOLE POINT OF THE STORY wol4ded: you should have somethng about "not rape" and hunter groping wol4ded: and some shotgunning wol4ded: something about the kid always being hungry and eating all the time and that must account for the oral fixation wol4ded: not that francis is complainign (Comment on this)
Thursday, April 9th, 2009
9:06 pm	LULZY FIC POST #4: DOIN IT FOR THE LULZ (spyro/sniper) Sniper was just settling in to his nest when he heard the muffled singing. "Tim, I wish you were born a girl, so I could've been your boy~friend~ " Well, there was no mistaking that voice. "Where the hell are you, Spyro, you wanker?" A ventilation duct overhead swung open and a gas-masked face peered down. "Ceiling Pyro is watching you masturbate." "Fag Pyro is a faggot," Sniper countered. "No, Sniper, you are the homosexuals!" Spyro dropped down into the room and fell to his knees, doing his best to make it look like he'd done it on purpose as he crawled forward to straddle the other man. "And then Sniper was gay." "You are such a queer," said Sniper, letting his hands settle on the spy's slim suited hips. "Hey, you're the one who was just jerking off thinking about my amazing man-cock, you massive homo." "I wasn't even, arsefag - " Sniper began. Spyro cut him off as he slid Sniper's vest from his shoulders. "Only because you were waiting a couple minutes hoping I'd show up like this. Don't even try to lie to me, mang, I know how much you want my ass." "Oh, for Christ's sake." Sniper reached up and tugged Spyro's tie loose, sliding his thumbs under the bottom edge of the gas mask. "Take this bloody thing off, it's bad enough having to listen to you talk without having to translate it out of pyro-speak too." "What, you're not into the gimp thing?" Spyro tilted his head back and led Sniper pull his mask off, his own fingers working on the other man's blue shirt. "Got better things you can do with your mouth than running it non-stop," Sniper growled fondly. Spyro laughed and pulled Sniper close, arms sliding around him and face tucking into the crook of his neck. He licked a stripe up to Sniper's ear and bit at the lobe. "Are you saying you want me to kiss you on the no-nos? But - but that would be GAY!" "Only if the balls touch, mate." "Yeah, but you're all about touching balls, mang." Spyro grinned as he stripped Sniper's shirt off. "You've been thinking about touching my balls all day, don't even lie." "You'd like to think that, you faggot." Sniper pushed Spyro back and rolled them both over, pinning the spy to the floor. Spyro grinned up at him, wiggling to let Sniper's hands reach the buttons of his clothes. "Yeah, keep calling me a faggot, you homo - you like being on top, don't you? Lets you pretend you're not a massive fucking queer like we both know you are." Sniper grinned back and rolled his eyes without stopping what he was doing. "You're the one who wants it up the ass, mate." "You're the one thinking about my ass all day." Spyro gasped a little as Sniper tugged his trousers down and wrapped a hand around him. "You're touching me where the bathing suit covers!" "Yeah, and I'll even let you call me daddy if you want." "Goddamn, you pervert - I knew you were into this delicious shota, but isn't incest going a little too far?" "I'll go a little too far with you, alright." Sniper took his hand away long enough to slick up his other fingers, pushing into him hard - one finger, then two, as he went back to work tugging at Spyro's cock. Spyro bit back a moan. "Daddy, no! That's the naughty zone!" "Oh, shut up. Forget I said anything, you colossal fairy." "Oh, but I like the things you say. They get me all wet in the panties." "If you're gettin' wet in your frilly lace pants, mate, it's because you're pissin' yourself." "Is that better or worse than pissing in jars? Don't answer that, mang - I'm not into watersports." "No, you're just into my cock, you homogay." Sniper pulled away again, yanking Spyro's trousers the rest of the way off and tugging his own down. "Into my cock being in you - faggot - " "Hell yeah, stick it in my pooper - fill me up with your delicious man-meat - " "I'll fill you up with delicious bloody kukri if you don't shut up - " "Oh god, Sniper, keep talking guro to me!" "Faggot - " "Queer - " "Faggot - " "Queer - " "Faggot - " "Harder, Sniper! I want you to fill me with your delicious cream!" "Fuck you," Sniper groaned, his fingers digging into Spyro's hips as the other man bucked beneath him. "You are!" "And you're loving it, assfag." Sniper pounded into him hard and fast, barely remembering to keep pulling at the other man's cock, Spyro's gloved fingers digging into his back; they both fell almost silent, just the occasional "faggot" or "queer" tossed back and forth between pants and stifled groans. Spyro came first, back arching, eyes closed, hissing between gritted teeth: "Yes, Daddy, yes!" Sniper bit him on the shoulder. "Fucking gayfag - " It wasn't long before he was coming too, as Spyro wrapped his legs around his waist, kissed him, murmured "give me that delicious man chowder" in his ear. After a moment, Spyro pushed Sniper off him and rummaged through his discarded suit jacket for a baggie. He rolled a smoke and took a long drag from it before passing it over. He sighed contentedly. "I came brix." (Comment on this)
9:06 pm	LULZY FIC POST #3: SURPRISE SEX (noob pyro/spyro) A streak of blue flew across the yard, with a streak of red right behind it. The streak of red was shouting: "WHEN I CATCH YOU, I'M GONNA FUCK YOU! WHEN I CATCH YOU, I'M GONNA FUCK YOU!" The streak of blue scrambled up a hill, panting. "You've been chasing me for nine days! Stop trying to fuck me!" The streak of red followed. "WHEN I CATCH YOU, I'M GONNA FUCK YOU!" "Stop! This is a bad thing! I don't want it!" "Aw, come on, Pyro, you've let everybody else do it - " "You're not even on my TEAM," wailed the BLU, still climbing the hill. Spyro - you totally knew it was him - snatched at Noob's ankle and missed. "I could PRETEND!" "No! Do not want! Why do you have to be such a jerk?" "Hey, jerking, there you go - WHEN I CATCH YOU, I'M GONNA JERK YOU OFF, is that better?" "Nooooo!" "Oh, you WANT it up the ass?" "Nooooo!" "I mean, if you wanna top, that's ok, it's just kinda weird - " Spyro made another failed attempt to grab at Noob - " - kinda weird for me to be chasing you and then YOU fuck ME, y'know?" "I don't WANT to fuck you!" "Blowjob?" "Nooooo!" Spyro grabbed again, and this time got hold of Noob's ankle, yanking him flat and pulling him back down the hill while Noob flailed wildly and tried to dig his fingers into the dirt. "I CAUGHT YOU! YOU GON GIT RAPED!" "Stop! No! DO NOT WANT!" Noob wailed and tried to kick free. "You say that to all the boys. Literally all of them, I've heard stories - " Noob's fingers scrabbled frantically among loose rocks as Spyro dragged him away. "I know I basically live in a reluctance/consent fic but I really MEAN it this time!" "You liiiiiiiiiiike it," Spyro sing-songed, still tugging. "NO! BAD TOUCH! I NEED AN ADULT!" "Hey, shut up, mang, that's my line!" Noob weeped quietly, still wriggling and trying to claw at the ground, as Spyro pulled him across the yard and into the RED base. "Why does this always happen to me?" he sniffed, clinging to the threshold of the door. Spyro leaned over and pried Noob's fingers up one by one. "Because you are delicious shota and we must has it." "I don't want to be delicious shota!" "You wanted to be a lumberjack?" "...What do lumberjacks have to do with anything?" "They rape people too!" Noob just wailed again, as Spyro dragged him into a supply closet and locked the door behind them. "There, now take off your pants for your rape party," Spyro said. Noob began to obey automatically. "Holy shit, you actually did it." Spyro just looked at the BLU pyro for a moment before jumping on top of him. Noob immediately realized how dumb he was and started trying to push Spyro back off; but the damage was already done. "YOUR RESISTANCE ONLY MAKES MY PENIS HARDER!" "I hate my life!" "DON'T WORRY, I WILL COMFORTFUCK YOU AFTERWARD!" "I don't think it even WORKS that way!" "Don't think of it as rape, think of it as the sex you never knew you wanted!" "I STILL don't want it!" Noob's chemsuit was being stripped off of him like a banana peel despite his best efforts, pulling the zipper back up every time Spyro pulled it down. "You will once I get started!" "Do not want! This is rape!" "YOU CAN'T RAPE THE WILLING!" "I KEEP TELLING YOU I'M NOT WILLING!" "And I don't believe you! You never mean it when you say that!" "How would you even know I don't even know you you jackass - " "Lessee, how about Demo?" "That was an accident!" "O rly? What about Scout, then?" "HAVE YOU SEEN HIS TEETH THINK ABOUT WHERE HE PUT THEM I COULDN'T SAY NO" "Medic AND Heavy AT THE SAME TIME, you kinky little boy?" "THEY STARTED THAT and it would have been impolite to say n - HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW ABOUT THIS STUFF?" "FYI I am a Spy - " "Oh my god you're terrible!" "NOT IN BED!" "I hate you!" "Are you ready?" "Am I wh-- " "SURPRISE! BUTTSECKS!" "AUGH" -- Later: "What you did to Pyro was RAPE, boy." "HONK HONK!" And then Medgineer was confused. (Comment on this)
9:05 pm	LULZY FIC POST #2: TOTALLY HOT SPYCRABS PORN (Scout/impliedeverybody) The day started off like any other. Scout got out of someone's bed, took a shower with someone else, got back into someone else's bed, took another shower with another someone else, stopped by Sniper's nest, had a quickie in the kitchen, and then had breakfast. Business as usual. But today there was something different. Something felt off. Weird. Wrong. What was going on? What was this itching in his pants? Scout didn't worry too much. He still remembered that "Your Body Is Going Through Changes" speech from his eighth-grade health class. Who knew how long puberty took? He couldn't grow a beard yet, anyway, so he figured he wasn't allt he way grown up. Maybe he was going through a growth spurt. A growth spurt in his pants. Ohhhhhh yeah. The rest of the day seemed pretty normal, too. Running around, getting shot at, shooting at people, quickie up against the resupply cabinet, another quickie in the enemy sniper's nest, more running around, getting bent over the enemy engineer's dispenser and railed until he cried for his mommy, all the usual work-a-day world. It was after work that things started getting weird. The itching was getting really bad, and Scout started noticing that his teammates seemed to be having the same problem. Demo and Engineer kept sneaking their hands down inside their pants, and even Pyro was doing a silly little jig when he walked. Spy was the one who snapped first. He shoved Scout up against the wall, then twisted the boy's arm behind his back and frogmarched him down to the showers. "Zis is all your fault," he spat angrily. "What the hell, man?" Scout was pretty used to Spy's whole BDSM thing, it wasn't bothering him. "The fuck did I do this time? Is this about me fucking the other engineer again?" "No, you stupid little tapin!" Spy gave Scout a hard push, flattening him against the tiles of the shower. He pulled out his knife and slung it open, slicing through the fabric of Scout's pants. "Hey, man, we had a deal, no property damage!" Scout tried to wiggle away, but Spy was looking pretty Serious Business with that butterfly knife thing, peeling Scout's pants away and cutting through the waistband of his tighty whiteys. Scout hissed in a shuddering breath as his cock was exposed to the chilly air. Spy applied himself with diligence to Scout's pubic area. Each time Scout tried to wiggle or moan, Spy dug his fingers into the boy's hips painfully. "Shut up, you filthy child." Scout thought he was being kind of a boner-killer, but then - Spy straightened up and angrily held pinched fingers an inch in front of Scout's nose. "Do you see this? Do you?" Scout tried to focus. "What the fuck, do you have FLEAS?" "YOU GAVE US ALL CRABS, YOU WHORE!" The next train brought an industrial-size case of Permethrin and plenty of clean towels and soap. And then Scout learned an important lesson about being a slut. (Comment on this)
9:05 pm	LULZY FIC POST #1: Das Gespenst des Kommunismus geht um in Mein Unterhose (Medic/Heavy) Another long and lonely night on 2fort was drawing to a close, and Medic felt himself in need of some "stress relief." Unfortunately, the last of the enemy Scouts he'd had tied up in his "examination room" had died earlier in the day, and were by now safely respawned in their own base, so he had little choice but to opt for more humane distractions. He was debating between sedating Pyro and finally seeing what was under that suit (a thought that had possessed him on multiple previous occasions, but had yet to bear fruit, as Pyro had a tendency to stay near Engineer during off hours; Medic had no desire to deal with an angered Texan when he could just as easily find other subjects of study) and simply downing 17 pints of Weizenbock and singing die Horst-Wessel-Lied until he passed out (as he had done three times in the past week; Unspecified Liquid was an efficacious hangover cure) when a third option presented itself in the form of Heavy. The man's unusual size had not escaped the "doctor," and the possibilities of proportionately prodigious parts had entertained him during many an evening's session of "heiling the Little Fuhrer." For a moment his hand strayed toward his ever-present needle gun, but the thought of the sheer volume of dosage it would take to anesthetize the Russian bear gave him pause. Perhaps other methods would prove more useful, particularly for the type of study Medic had in mind. "Heavy!" "Da, Doctor?" "I must give you ze examinations! Come wiz me, bitte, SCHNELL!" "Da, Doctor." Heavy followed along obediently, humming a little tune under his breath, and Medic smiled to himself at the simple beauty of this cunning strategy. For such a large man to be so docile; if all Russians were like this, the Reich would have won at Stalingrad. Medic's smile faded briefly, and a single tear slipped down his aquiline visage. But he would avenge his nation! He would reenact the battle, and his advance from the rear would completely overcome the Soviet defenses! He straightened his back and goose-stepped more efficiently. Inside his "examination room," Medic locked the door and turned sharply to face Heavy, clicking his heels. "Ze trousers! Zey come off!" "Da, Doctor." Heavy unbuckled his belt, his massive gut - freed from this tight reinforcement - immediately falling down to completely obscure his hips. Medic frowned. But his people had penetrated the Maginot Line; he himself had penetrated their local Frenchman multiple times; this obstacle too could be surmounted. "Straighten ze back! I must be certain zat you have no - abnormalities of ze lower physiognomy!" He reached down with a gloved hand, but found only Heavy's thighs. He tsked irritably, applying both hands to the task of lifting the Russian's vodka-belly. It was hard labour, but arbeit macht frei, and he soon managed it. "HOLD ZIS," he ordered, and Heavy complied. There - the Kremlin was revealed! It was only through years of strict German training that Medic was able to keep from going weak-kneed at the sight. "Is ok, Doctor?" Heavy inquired worriedly. "Ze - ze examination is not yet complete," said Medic breathlessly. "Ve must be certain zat ze functions are correct." Under Medic's strict attention, Heavy's Red Army Member soon stood to full attention. He felt a need to measure it, for the furthering of medical science, but his calipers were too small, and his own Teutonic titan was creating a very uncomfortable bulge in his trousers. "Is ok, Doctor?" Heavy asked again. "Doctor like my gun?" Medic unfastened his belt, letting his pants drop around the ankles of his polished jackboots. "Ja, ja," he said distractedly. "Sehr gut." He worked on both their unterpantsboots with German efficiency - and you know the Germans make good stuff. "Da, Doctor, touch my gun," Heavy moaned. Medic knew he was close to a full uber. "Ze examination must continue!" he cried, turning Heavy around and bending him over. The second seige of Stalingrad began, and it was a Blitzkrieg; the Soviet forces were completely overwhelmed. Medic heiled furiously. "I AM ZE UBERMENSCH!" he cried as his salty medibeam filled Heavy's secondary loadout slot. "I LOVE DIS DOCTOR!" Heavy shouted, making a mess all over the floor. Medic slumped against the larger man's back for a moment, then straightened up and refastened his trousers. "Ze examination is complete. You may go." Heavy smiled widely. "Doctor give best medicine!" Tomorrow, Medic decided, he would demonstrate the lengths (and widths) to which his German nationalism could stretch to engulf the Communist movement. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 7th, 2009
10:02 pm	( Read more... ) (Comment on this)
Thursday, March 26th, 2009
6:45 pm	met with one of the guitarists from one of the prospective bands-to-be eh's a pretty cool guy, has like six guitars and doesn't afraid of anything we discussed musical influences, what sound we want to go for, and band names on the drive home i came up with a list for him to go over the sleeper agents mkultra the dude and catastrophe the catastrophe or the mayhem (this can be two separate ideas or one :V) boxxie and the longcats :V (obvy a joke we both speak 4chan so he'll get it) the great white hope the last of the underdogs cooper black the 2nd amendment (logo is a dude with bear arms :V)  (or a bear with a gun :V the right to arm bears) the final destination system failure the plot twists the sans serifs the pull quote etaoin shrdlu / lorem ipsum something about quantum physics because i like that phrase (the quantum physics, the quantum fizz, quantum physical, idk) mister mystic a safer cigarette preventative measures the ampersands oh the huge manatee (Comment on this)
Thursday, March 19th, 2009
6:47 pm	titus n. owl: i like the one where the guy finds a bottle on the shore titus n. owl: and opens it titus n. owl: thinking he's gonna get a wish titus n. owl: and the genie's like titus n. owl: CHRIST GODDAMN >:U I JUST SPENT FOUR MOTHERFUCKING MILLENIA HOLED UP IN THAT FUCKING THING I'M SO ANGRY titus n. owl: I'M GONNA KILL EVERY DOGSHIT MOTHERFUCKER STARTING WITH YOU titus n. owl: and the dude's like hold up what kind of thankfulness for being let out is that titus n. owl: and the genie's like SHUT YOUR COCKSOCKET, BITCHCUNT titus n. owl: SO I CAN KILL YOU titus n. owl: and the dude's like titus n. owl: oh come on i bet you couldn't kill shit you dont look so powerful at all titus n. owl: WHAT IN THE SIXTY DICKNIPPLES ARE YOU TALKIN BOUT WILLIS YOU'RE A MASSIVE FUCKNOZZLE titus n. owl: I'M THE FUCKING ALL-SINGING ALL-DANCING ALL-POWERFUL BITCHFACE OF THE AGES titus n. owl: yeah pffft i bet you can't even like change sizes or nothing you pussy titus n. owl: FUCK YOU WATCH THIS SHIT YOU TWATLIP titus n. owl: and the genie blows up to be like the size of god titus n. owl: YEAH YOU SEE THIS GIGANTIC BLUE SMURFDICK titus n. owl: YOU'LL BE TASTING IT titus n. owl: AND IT IWLL BE THE LAST THING YOU TASTE >:U titus n. owl: and the dude's like pffft anything can GROW my DICK can GROW but titus n. owl: can you SHRINK titus n. owl: YOU GODDAMN LITTLE FARTSNIFFER I'LL SHRINK SO SMALL YOUR DOG COULD SHIT ME OUT titus n. owl: and he gets really small titus n. owl: and the dude pops him back in the bottle titus n. owl: and then throws him back in the sea titus n. owl: and you hear this tiny little voice echoing back in over the waves titus n. owl: going titus n. owl: fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck (Comment on this)
Monday, March 9th, 2009
3:58 pm	Engineers have a set of complex social 'bee dances' to facilitate working relationships.  Spies only have one: sex.  And as far as that went, Bond had lucked out some: the Engineer who'd eventually built his time machine was a lot younger and better-looking than the ones he'd tried before him.  It hardly even counted as a chore, except for the time-consuming process of inebriation that had to precede it if he didn't want to get punched in the face again. He'd gotten that part figured out in very short order.  Say what you will about his abilities on bog-standard contract work - the briefcase-stealing he referred to so derisively - when it came to real Spying, the webs of intrigue held together with sheer force of suave, he was comfortably confident in himself.  He'd bagged Joanna DuWitt-Harder and Lotta Butté without expending any special effort, after all, and observation and cautious experimentation enabled him to - not quite bag, but at least properly manipulate this James person he was stuck with. If he'd been an Engineer himself, he'd have been able to put the process into a formula: variables pertaining to how much whiskey James had put down the hatch and where they were on the spectrum from "would as soon wring neck as look at" to "a decent business partnership" (itself governed by a separate subset of variables like "had anything happened to make James remember they were stuck in 1963" and "had Bond been teasing him"), data and figures all laid out precisely; solve for sex.  He wasn't an Engineer, though, so he was moving by a fairly well-developed instinctual sense of seduction.  Good enough. They'd been getting along well today, because Bond had had the good sense to remove himself from the vicinity while James worked on the gadgets Bond had convinced him were utterly necessary for the job they were on.  When he came back to find them in varying levels of completeness he'd won major points with his completely unfeigned delight in them (who wouldn't be totally charmed, even excited, by coming into possession of a pen that dispenses knock-out gas and a belt buckle that almost works as a grappling hook and a vaguely-defined Useful Multitool replacing the now-useless disguise kit component of his cigarette case?  All of these things, even the ones that weren't finished or fully explained, were absolutely awesome!).  Lotta wasn't available that night, and even if she had been, it made a great deal of practical sense to use the opportunity to cement better relations with his new de facto partner, so Bond decided to springboard off of the day's worth of almost-friendship and into bed with James. It had been clear from the start that proper and liberal application of whiskey kept the Engineer socially lubricated; whenever he started getting too worked up over his inability to understand Bond's perfectly logical Spy reasoning, a glass or two would keep him from doing anything rash, like breaking noses.  Getting drunk always helped people lower their standards, anyway - see the concept of beer goggles.  Therefore, providing James with additional whiskey and gently working up to the idea of a proper lay was obviously the right course of action.  Bond had obtained a bottle of highly decent single-barrel bourbon for precisely this occasion, and he brought it out now, along with a couple of glasses he'd liberated from the bar with the same thought in mind. He poured a double into his glass and at least a triple into the other, passing it to the Engineer with a grin.  "I thought we ought to toast your success!  Seriously, I knew you'd be able to come up with cool gadgets and things.  You're obviously some kind of genius."  He almost said "After all, you built a time machine," but changed his mind at the last second - it was a rather sticky subject, after all, and likely to turn into another shouting-down about how James held him personally responsible for everything from the malfunction of said time machine to the lack of internet in their hotel room.  Ridiculous, but everyone knew Engineers were prone to holding grudges. More of the kind of flattering small-talk that the target appreciated so well (James stopped short of literally preening, but the metaphorical preening was obvious);  Bond even went so far as to ask about some technical detail of how the knockout pen worked, and maintained an expression of active interest throughout the long and detailed explanation, carefully topping off Engineer's glass every time he took a sip and pretending to pace him with his own. The technical question also provided an excuse to get physically close, perching himself on the arm of the chair and leaning over to look at the details being described.  Of course, this meant he had to put an arm around James' shoulders to steady himself, all the while nodding enthusiastically and saying things like "Yeah, I see" and "Wow, that's really clever." Evidently the explanation was over; another compliment (again, not wholly prevarication; Bond really was quite sure this guy was some kind of mad-scientist type genius), and then he took a real gulp of his whiskey and reached out to pour more, refilling James' while he was at it.  Next: having gained some goodwill with the ooh Mister Engineer ooh, build some empathy and create a connection.  Bond's extended family covered literally every class except Pyro, so he took a line James had said in his explanation and neatly segued from it into a rather amusing little story involving a paternal uncle-by-marriage who was an Engineer and the young Bond's misadventures with a beerspenser built for a family reunion.  (This also tied nicely in with the grown-up Bond's misadventures with that very knockout pen earlier in the afternoon, and allowed the Engineer to have a laugh at the Spy's expense, which is always useful for improving interclass relationships.) Now was a good time to step things up a little.  Bond switched his glass to the hand draped over James' shoulder and casually slid his now-free hand over the other man's chest, undoing the top button of his shirt without missing a beat in his story.  No opposition, so down to the next one.  That got a look - not a Look, but a look, and he had no desire to turn it into a Look - so he removed the hand, got his whiskey, took another sip that was not as large as he made it seem, put the glass back in his other hand, did some dramatic gestures to emphasize the story's punchline, and then slipped his hand right back where it had been while they both laughed. More whiskey for both of them, and a comment on its quality,  Another observation he'd made almost immediately upon meeting James: all you had to do to get him to do something was suggest that he couldn't.  "This is pretty strong stuff, though.  I mean, you probably can't just drop shots of it."  He demonstrated by actually taking a gulp that was just as big as it looked, and overacted the burn in his throat.  Just as planned, Engineer cowboyed up over it and drained his glass.  Bond leaned forward to get the bottle and pour more, and leaned back into a much more comfortable and compromising position, practically half in James' lap at this point.  Compliments and chatter - Bond was rarely at a loss for words to fill space - and this time Engineer didn't even pretend to put up a resistance to having his shirt unbuttoned. Bond moved back a bit and shrugged out of his jacket, laying it over the edge of the desk, then made a show of struggling with the knot in his necktie.  "Help me out?" with an abashed smile, which provided him with an excuse to get James' hands working on undressing him, as well as a reason to get closer - straddling him in the chair now. He hadn't been drinking as much as he'd been pretending to drink, but he could still feel the warmth of the whiskey in him, making everything very slightly, but pleasantly, fuzzy.  And James really wasn't bad-looking at all - very nicely built, as Engineers tend to be, and sort of ruggedly manly, again as Engineers tend to be.  This wasn't a very taxing job at all.  Pretty enjoyable, actually, as James pulled Bond's tie off for him, then let his hands settle on Bond's hips.  Bond leaned in closer, sliding his hand inside the shirt he'd so carefully unbuttoned to splay fingers on warm skin, lips just barely brushing James' ear; "You know, I think I might be drunk." "You think?"  One of James' thumbs was idly stroking Bond's flank, just above the waistband of his trousers. "Yeah.  I do that sometimes, you know, amazing as it seems."  Bond could feel James' brief chuckle at that, and grinned into his neck. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, March 3rd, 2009
7:07 am	titus n. owl: wanna be my innernet drug sitter :3c Giffeh: internet drug sitter? titus n. owl: i want to do a little salvia and listen to this Calexico song titus n. owl: but i like having a person saying words to me while i do it so i can watch the screen move titus n. owl: and i can make words back Giffeh: harhar.  Ok~ titus n. owl: it's just good to know there's somebody i can like lean over the internet and go titus n. owl: IT'S NOT REAL :D Giffeh: hahaha Giffeh: :D~ Giffeh: well for sure I shall do my best. Giffeh: let me find the pants I need to wear as pyjamas though dude they're right over there somewhere titus n. owl: were you in chat when we were - oh on wonder that's what the drug wants Giffeh points at laundry basket in the corner titus n. owl: it likes circles titus n. owl: one of my muisce players doesn't go in circles titus n. owl: and the other one does titus n. owl: i have to go to th toat titus n. owl: *pointsS titus n. owl: bbt Giffeh: but? titus n. owl: ok it's ok now titus n. owl: i ca n put the words out  of the boundarie titus n. owl: the titus n. owl: the thing on my music player that makes pictures titus n. owl: when the music titus n. owl: visualizer! titus n. owl: the visualiser! titus n. owl: it goes in a circle Giffeh: yeah?  it needs to be circles? titus n. owl: and i always get this circle feeling from this drug titus n. owl: i did before i saw the visualizer, last night Giffeh: at least it's not spirals.  fucking spirals. titus n. owl: so i had to go let the circles happen titus n. owl: but now i can put the words down in the corner of my screen titus n. owl: they're out of the boundary of the circles so they're ok titus n. owl: you just can't have the words inside the circle titus n. owl: sometimes the circles are right and sometimes they're not :|c titus n. owl: the colours in the visualizer titus n. owl: when they're green they're right Giffeh: so the inside of the cirle is like... the place where everything has to be empty? titus n. owl: but it keeps going white titus n. owl: the inside of the circle, you can only go in it if you're with the drug titus n. owl: if i go in there, i can't do words anymore titus n. owl: it's nice in there it's not a BAD plac titus n. owl: i just can't talk to you in there Giffeh: Ah, I see. titus n. owl: i had to move the screen Giffeh: And it's good to talk, I guess? titus n. owl: that's why my typing was so bad titus n. owl: ok Giffeh: ahhh. titus n. owl: ok i'm down now titus n. owl: well i'm not down titus n. owl: but i don't feel the physical PULL titus n. owl: it's weird there is a physical PULL along the motion of the circle titus n. owl: i wonder what would happen if i went in with it titus n. owl: next time titus n. owl: ok i can put the window back over top of the circles again i'm better Giffeh: into the circle? titus n. owl: yeah i wonder what would happen if instead of trying to stay outside adn watch titus n. owl: i just went "ok" and went along with it Giffeh: you would feel the circle, man. titus n. owl: i'm gonna show you a screencap Giffeh: ok. titus n. owl: http://i40.tinypic.com/20s7rr5.jpg titus n. owl: i scrolled up because the time i had to pause to stop typing titus n. owl: i made my words fit inside the circle titus n. owl: you see Giffeh: oh, yeah, I see. Giffeh: it looks a little like a portal Giffeh: the circle, I mean. titus n. owl: every time i do salvia it's always circles titus n. owl: i don't know why titus n. owl: even if i'm not looking at that visualization titus n. owl: circles and trees titus n. owl: the circles are NATURAL cricles titus n. owl: like a ring of trees or stones titus n. owl: like the rings IN trees titus n. owl: nature becomes circles titus n. owl: the natural way of the world is like forces shape you into a circle, gravity and centrifugal force and growing outward, it's all circles because that way the force is equal all over Giffeh: .... oh wow, man.  that's pretty deep. Giffeh: it's true, though. titus n. owl: and when the visualizer was green, that was the best kind of circle, and the white circles were only ok, and the brown circles were the ones that - they weren't WRONG, they were just the absence of right titus n. owl: the brown circles were true neutral and i had no interest in them titus n. owl: it didn't do any other colours but i think orange circles would be wrong Giffeh: yeah, probably. titus n. owl: the circles are nature and nature should be green v(._.)v titus n. owl: white was only kind of ok because it felt like lightbulbs titus n. owl: and light is kind of naturey titus n. owl: but brown is just woods and winter. Giffeh: light lets nature grow titus n. owl: congratulations giffeh you are learning a new skill titus n. owl: the skill is titus n. owl: "being medgineer when spyro's on a trip" Giffeh: XD titus n. owl: clinging to his leg titus n. owl: the teleporters titus n. owl: go in circles titus n. owl: because of NATURE. titus n. owl: whatever boy Giffeh: haha Giffeh: spyro and medgineer, man. titus n. owl: lol im gonna post that titus n. owl: to twitter Giffeh: hahahahaha, ok. titus n. owl: there Giffeh: replied to twitter titus n. owl: haha titus n. owl: the trips on salvia are really short so i'm back now titus n. owl: just a little "heightened awareness" feeling titus n. owl: rather than "high" titus n. owl: if that makes any sense Giffeh: haha.  Wow, that was awesome. XD titus n. owl: i still have that leftover "i understand shit 8D" but i'm not TRIPPAN Giffeh: no more circles? titus n. owl: nope titus n. owl scrolls up titus n. owl: "titus n. owl: were you in chat when we were - oh on wonder that's what the drug wants" Giffeh: that was fucking awesome XD titus n. owl: "oh no wonder" was in reply to my own mental conversation with myself - i had the song i wanted to listen to open in windows media player, but also in media player classic titus n. owl: and i started it in media player classic but it felt wrong Giffeh: needs moar circles? titus n. owl: and then i had that "oh, the drug wants the circles" so i put it in windows titus n. owl: 'cause mpc doesn't have a visualizer titus n. owl: what i had been planning to say before the drugs took hold titus n. owl: was "were you in chat when we were discussing religions" Giffeh: no, I was not! I left after shnoox got mad at fred because of dramu titus n. owl: kievan was wondering what religion the guys probably are titus n. owl: and i said scout's boston irish so he'd be a cat'lic boy Giffeh: haha.  probably. titus n. owl: and like, going by demographics, spy could be catholic - like, 50% of france is catholic - but it's lulzier and makes it less of a Christian Sausage Party if he's a jew (lol the nose) Giffeh: .... LOL YES titus n. owl: and that made me snort thinking of scout going "jesus christ spy what's wrong with your dick D8" Giffeh: ..... Giffeh: FJKLDjlkjlk XD! Giffeh: a billion times yes oh my god titus n. owl: and then scout (this is a scout who is not the team bicycle mind you) titus n. owl: kind of going titus n. owl: D:> titus n. owl: later titus n. owl: owndering titus n. owl: IS IT SPY'S DICK THAT'S WEIRD titus n. owl: OR MINE D:> titus n. owl: and trying to like Giffeh: ... pffffft titus n. owl: glance at everybody else's in the bathroom Giffeh: haaa XD  oh wow. titus n. owl: Novichok: I can see him doing that and looking up and Demoman is just GLARING Novichok: Like the fuck are you doing titus n. owl: scout just *red* *attempt to look small* *grows a pair* ... FUCK YOU titus n. owl: SCOUTVISION: INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: Holy Mary Mother Of God It's Like A Big Black Firehose D: Novichok: I wasn't sure whether to laugh or... do a thing that wasn't laughing titus n. owl: (i can totally hear that in his voice with that slightly hysterical D: like when he goes YOU - YOU BIG FAT- FATTY - FAT FAT!) Giffeh: .... OHWOW XD Giffeh: yes. Giffeh: who do you think has the smallest penis out of curiosity Giffeh: I wonder titus n. owl: ( ._.), titus n. owl: my gut feeling is sniper titus n. owl: HE'S COMPENSATING WITH THAT SCOPE titus n. owl: :V Giffeh: ... and now my mind strays to soldier RUNNING FULL TILT OUT OF THE BATHROOM.  BUCK NAKED EXCEPT FOR HIS HELMET.  because there was an explosion at the other base and he thought it meant the war had started without him titus n. owl: hahahaahahah YES Giffeh: and everyone else is like eating breakfast or putting their gear on Giffeh: and suddenly Giffeh: NAKED SOLDIER Giffeh: and everyone is just like ".... :|" titus n. owl: scout pipes up, starts to go "Wh- " titus n. owl: engineer just shushes him titus n. owl: "you know it's better not t' question him, boy" Giffeh: and then soldier fought the battle naked titus n. owl: with his karate penis Giffeh: xD  yes Giffeh: he won, too.  probably capped the point Giffeh: because everyone was just like ".... wait hold on what" titus n. owl: ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: KARATE PENIS: Dominate 3 opponents while armed with nothing but your wang. Giffeh: .... Giffeh: lol dominate titus n. owl: ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: BALLS OF STEEL: Perform the winning capture while the boys catch a breeze. Giffeh: I know there's some joke about premature ejaculation and pre-emptive misfiring Giffeh: but I can't find it titus n. owl: lol Giffeh: pfffft. Giffeh: also yeah you're probably right about sniper Giffeh: there's got to be a reason why he would isolate himself in the wilderness like that Giffeh: SEVERE INADEQUACY ISSUES Giffeh: or something. titus n. owl: clearly Giffeh: harhar. Giffeh: this has been a highly interesting conversation XD titus n. owl: now i'm trying to explain the circles to novi Giffeh: dude just copypasta Giffeh: made sense to me titus n. owl: Novichok: it can't be a circle forever, it'll run out of momentum IT CAN'T LAST FOREVER titus n. owl: it does though Novichok: I'm too sober, should i drink Novichok: but titus n. owl: because there's no entropy in reality titus n. owl: entropy is non-reality trying to slow nature down Novichok: wait no don't you start or we'll discuss stupid physics shit titus n. owl: but in reality when you're outside the world Novichok: and i'm too sober titus n. owl: there's no entropy titus n. owl: just like there's no gravity when you're outside earth :D Novichok: well man there is gravity outside earth titus n. owl: i meant friction titus n. owl: she doesn't get it titus n. owl: i did copypasta Giffeh: :c Giffeh: that's depressing. titus n. owl: i think it's because she's scottish titus n. owl: scottish people don't understand circles Giffeh: probably. Giffeh: they understand Giffeh: lines titus n. owl: this is why they make bad race car drivers Giffeh: STRAIGHT LINES. Giffeh: like plaid Giffeh: lines and squares. titus n. owl: yes titus n. owl: they are the line people Giffeh: yep titus n. owl: my family is irish titus n. owl: we do circles titus n. owl: look at like titus n. owl: celtic art titus n. owl: it's all circles and sinuous curves Giffeh: never-ending in a strange way that's never straight, always moving and flowing titus n. owl: like the ocean Giffeh: yeah. Giffeh: and water mang it just kind of keeps going.  water that doesn't move is dead water. Giffeh: that's why circles are good. Giffeh: if you stop going in circles, then you stop existing. titus n. owl: yeah exactly titus n. owl: and like water is a big circle too titus n. owl: because it rains titus n. owl: and then it goes in a river titus n. owl: and the river goes in an ocean titus n. owl: andthe ocean evaporates titus n. owl: and the evaporation makes clouds titus n. owl: and the clouds rain titus n. owl: and then it goesagain Giffeh: everything in the world is all circles and waves titus n. owl: nature is circles titus n. owl: people make lines titus n. owl: lines are a human thing titus n. owl: engineers with rulers Giffeh: people are silly Giffeh: digging in our heels wherever they set foot and carving lines into nature where we have no right to titus n. owl: the teleporter goes in circles because the engineers have to use nature to make them, because people don't know how to do it on their own, they say it's impossible because you can't do it with lines, but once you bring the circles in, then you can do it titus n. owl: see i could've been an engineer titus n. owl: :V Giffeh: somewhere along the way people broke out of the circle.  it started as a spiral, but then it just turned into a line titus n. owl: the loops flattened out titus n. owl: it's because of entropy titus n. owl: when you're in the world that the words make, entropy happens and the circles slow titus n. owl: but the circles are always going outside in reality Giffeh: the day that the last circle breaks is the day that we're doomed. titus n. owl: the circles on the outside never stop though titus n. owl: and they're always sending new circles in titus n. owl: like how people draw radio towers sending circles out titus n. owl: but in reverse titus n. owl: if we ever flatten out the last circle with our lines and our entropy titus n. owl: they'll make a new one titus n. owl: they'll make new words to give a new world titus n. owl: with new fresh circles titus n. owl: i feel like i go back to the same place each time titus n. owl: i don't GO THERE titus n. owl: but i get to see it titus n. owl: and i got the sense that like titus n. owl: "reality" isn't where we are titus n. owl: we're like the characters in a novel, but we exist in reality, too titus n. owl: and if a new world gets made titus n. owl: we'll be in it again titus n. owl: we'll be new characters Giffeh: but the real reality is different? titus n. owl: but we'll be us titus n. owl: the real reality is the place where the words are written, and the words make the world. titus n. owl: and the circles are out there spinning titus n. owl: the real reality isn't like ours titus n. owl: so it's hard to understand from inside it Giffeh: man.  it's like... princess tutu. :c with the writers who shape the world titus n. owl: like a book character trying to understand its author titus n. owl: I KNOW HOW TO SAY IT. titus n. owl: imagine a cartoon titus n. owl: it's 2-D Giffeh: yeah. titus n. owl: and it's being made by someone here titus n. owl: who is in 3-d. titus n. owl: and the 2-d character can't understand 3-d life titus n. owl: reality is like titus n. owl: 4-d titus n. owl: so you can't really understand it Giffeh: there are up to 10 dimensions. :3c Giffeh: have you ever seen the youtube thing on dimensions? titus n. owl: no i haven't titus n. owl: i know the fourth dimension is time titus n. owl: "reality" isn't LITERALLY 4-D, that's just the best metaphor Giffeh: ah, I see. titus n. owl: for why it's so hard to understand titus n. owl: us:understanding reality :: cartoon character:understanding life in 3d titus n. owl: and that's why there are past lives and stuff too titus n. owl: that's us getting reused inside "our" reality titus n. owl: rewritten with new words titus n. owl: but sometimes a phrase or two is the same and we remember the old words that we used to be (Comment on this)
Monday, March 2nd, 2009
2:58 am	titus n. owl: whoa titus n. owl: there was more in that pinch than i thought but it's ok titus n. owl: coldplay is on and they won't let anything happen to me engineer: |3c titus n. owl: it all turns into trees titus n. owl: like the trees you see outside a store or somethin engineer: coldplay is a big burly tree covered in ivy with crazy lil flowers at the base around it titus n. owl: whoa this is so weird titus n. owl: shit you changed it titus n. owl: it was diffeerent but i read that engineer: sorry :|c titus n. owl: and that changed it titus n. owl: into that titus n. owl: you speak the words and that forms reality engineer: words = thoughts titus n. owl: yes titus n. owl: if you your thoughts into words that makes them real! engineer: yes titus n. owl: like the pyro learning that thoughts and words are the same titus n. owl: but the words make the world engineer: yes <:3c titus n. owl: wait no i'm just on a drug it's ok :3c titus n. owl: ok i have better control of things now i just forgot it was a drug titus n. owl: that was weird i was aware all the time that i was reading words on a computer screen but titus n. owl: at the same time reality was something different titus n. owl: the words titus n. owl: were titus n. owl: the world engineer: yes engineer: it happens titus n. owl: the coldplay music was titus n. owl: now my feet won't touch the ground titus n. owl: and it was a grove of trees titus n. owl: a whole grove of them horizontal and coldplay wasn't actually the trees titus n. owl: but they were among the trees titus n. owl: the voice and the instrumetns titus n. owl: i kept thinking of will titus n. owl: i wasn't expecting to trip that hard i didn't do that much salvia that time titus n. owl: so i was kind of scared but i knew i shouldn't be, everything would be ok titus n. owl: and i kept thinking of will titus n. owl: being the musi titus n. owl: c titus n. owl: and will going titus n. owl: ok just come with us titus n. owl: and i was like titus n. owl: will champion will keep me safe titus n. owl: i will go with coldplay titus n. owl: into the grove titus n. owl: and the grove was off to the right where the playlist on my media player is titus n. owl: and the words that make the world are over here on the left in your chat window titus n. owl: but then you reshaped the world titus n. owl: by talking about a tree, a single tree titus n. owl: and then the world spun up and up, the whole grove spinning into a single tree engineer: yep titus n. owl: and then the music changed to fleet foxes and the forest went dark titus n. owl: and then i started getting out of the music because i was trying to tell you about reality and words titus n. owl: and that is what happened titus n. owl: really the main thing is that WORDS = WORLD titus n. owl: WORD > WORLD it is one letter engineer: which is a step away from beliefs =world that i am familair with titus n. owl: you get the L out of WILL titus n. owl: not will champion titus n. owl: willpower titus n. owl: you have to will it into being engineer: was about to say engineer: will: hey where'd my l go titus n. owl: lol titus n. owl: you have to be able to words it to make it happen titus n. owl: the words are the POWER titus n. owl: you have to believe it titus n. owl: but you have to use the words titus n. owl: words are what shape the world titus n. owl: we are all fiction titus n. owl: you shape worldsi n a story by writing words engineer: man i am some boring fiction engineer: or meta titus n. owl: the thing is though like titus n. owl: think of all the people titus n. owl: in titus n. owl: in hq titus n. owl: when james and bond are there titus n. owl: who are there because a crowd is mentioned titus n. owl: they're all people engineer: are you impying that we're filler engineer: we're backgrounders titus n. owl: yes engineer: :c titus n. owl: that's not a bad thing! titus n. owl: it's just titus n. owl: the way things are titus n. owl: thsoe people are there because they had words about them titus n. owl: the precise nature of their existence can be changed by giving them more words titus n. owl: i can't fucking beileve i just had a psychedelic trip in which THE FUCKING DRUMMER FROM COLDPLAY WAS MY SPIRIT GUIDE (Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 11th, 2009
12:41 am	itt owl tells a story by posting songs wolf parade - kissing the beehive margot & the nuclear so-and-so's - there's talk of mineshafts jared mees and the grown children - bees broken records - wolves shearwater - red sea, black sea jason bajada - you are a runner and i am my father's son fleet foxes - your protector iron & wine - woman king (Comment on this)
Saturday, January 31st, 2009
2:03 am	THIS WAS WRITTEN TEN YEARS AGO BEFORE PIRATES AND NINJAS WERE TOTALLY PLAYED OUT SO HAVE MERCY NINJAS vs. PIRATES Whoop-Ass on the High Seas ROUGH DRAFT #1 CAST Cap’n, chief pirate Hi Brau, head of the ninja Emperor Lo Dong Subninja Stealth Ninja Assorted Ninja Assorted Pirates Imperial Guards INTRODUCTION/LEAD CREDITS Film’s logo and production information fade in and out over black screen.  FADE: Hands are holding a faded, battered pirate treasure map.  The camera zooms in to an illustration carefully marked with an X: the Imperial City.  Close zoom as the map ignites at the location of the Imperial City, burning away in a circle outward.  Zoom through the flames and into black. SCENE ONE: ABDUCTION OF THE SEAL The black cracks open with a creak - we are opening a door into the Imperial Palace.  The Palace is dark, lit only by candles.  What we can see is obviously Oriental.  There is a lot of red and gold.  An IMPERIAL GUARD stands just inside the door, but is oblivious to our presence.  A hook sweeps out and catches the guard by the throat, yanking him back and dispatching him silently.  Camera PANS BACK to show the PIRATE  CAP’N, to whose arm the hook is attached.  The guard disposed of, Cap’n tiptoes into the palace, looks about nervously, and gestures to his men to follow.  The PIRATES tiptoe Indian-file into the palace and down the dark hall.  CUT to various scenes of the men sneaking past Imperial guards who remain completely unaware.  The pirates finally enter the Throne Room of the palace.  There is a carefully-lit pillar in the center of the room.  Whatever treasure it holds rests atop it on a pillow, protected from view by a square of silk.  The pirates surround the treasure, blocking our view as Cap’n removes the silk covering.  A golden gleam shines on their faces.  CUT to the view of their faces from the position of the treasure - awed pirates looking down at the camera. Touching this treasure has alerted the previously-impervious guards, however.  GUARD: shouting    They are taking the Imperial Seal! Guards storm the circle of pirates.  Cap’n shoves his stolen booty inside his coat, and the pirates turn to face their opponents.  They then proceed to whoop ass on the Imperial guards and beat a hasty retreat, victorious. SCENE TWO: ASSUMING THE QUEST The throne room of the Imperial Palace, some time later.  GUARDS stand in their former positions of honor.  The EMPEROR sits on his throne, out of the light.  He sits straight and appears regal and haughty.  HI BRAU enters, SUBNINJA and the other NINJAS following behind him.  They bow to the Emperor, who remains impassive. HI BRAU:     Greetings, Emperor.  Why have you summoned us today? EMPEROR:     I have need of your services.  The Imperial Palace has been invaded by pirates, and they have stolen the Imperial Seal! With his last three words, the Emperor leans forward from his throne and loses all semblance of composure, bursting into childlike tears.  Sudden CUT: Outside on a sunny day.  CAP’N is holding a plush seal in one hand, threatening it with the hook that takes the place of his other hand. CAP’N:    ARRRRRR! CUT: Back in the Imperial Palace, the Emperor has sunk to his knees next to the empty pillar where the Seal once sat.  The sleeves of his jacket are at least a foot longer than they should be, and he waves the empty sleeve-ends in despair as he wails. EMPEROR:    You have to save it!  You have to bring it back! Hi Brau raises his eyebrow, then shrugs. HI BRAU:    We will return the Imperial Seal, emperor.  You have my word of honor. The Emperor continues to bawl, waving his sleeves weakly.  Hi Brau shrugs again, and turns to exit.  He bumps right into a lesser ninja, who had apparently been right behind him taking notes on a small yellow pad despite the fact that the lesser ninja wasn’t there in the last long shot.  Hi Brau glares at the lesser ninja, then exits, followed by the rest of his clan. SCENE THREE: AN EXPEDITION CAP’N and the pirate crew are gathered on the deck of their ship.  CAP’N holds the Imperial (plush) Seal in his hand, and is gesturing with his hook as he speaks to the crew. CAP’N:    Avast, ye maties!  We be headin’ back to the Imperial City for to ransom this here seal for plenty o’ galleons!  Arrrr!  You lot keep yer eyes - what eyes as yer got - on the seas, you scurvy dogs!  Mount a guard day and night!  Keep this ship and this seal safe as yer own mudders, or I’ll keelhaul the lot of yer!  An’ keep out o’ me bottles o’ rum!  Arrrrrrrrrrrr! PIRATES:     Aye, aye, cap’n! CAP’N and a number of pirates exit. SCENE FOUR: A DECISION Again, the throne room.  The emperor, no longer in hysterics, is on his throne.  A GUARD runs in. GUARD: breathless    Emperor!  The pirates have offered to ransom the Imperial Seal! EMPEROR:    How much do they want? GUARD:    They demand 2,000 pieces of eight. EMPEROR:    Err... how much is that in yen? Another guard leans over and whispers in the Emperor’s ear.    The Emperor obviously does not care for the answer.  He screws up his face and stomps his feet like a petulant child. EMPEROR:     They can’t have it!  Summon Master Hi Brau and his ninja! The ninja enter. EMPEROR:    You must recover the Imperial Seal by force!  Tonight! Hi Brau rolls his eyes, but bows to the emperor and turns to leave, again bumping into the lesser ninja.  They exit the throne room again. SCENE FIVE: A PARTY The PIRATES that Cap’n didn’t take with him on his trip to gain ransom are obviously not mounting a 24/7 guard as they were instructed.  Obviously not, because they are in the hold throwing a huge party.  Pirates and wenches are drinking copious quantities of beer and of the captain’s rum.  Some pirates are playing air guitar, others are dancing, and there is general revelry in the air.  It’s very loud and rowdy.  CUT: Outside, in the night, the NINJA have reached the ship.  They climb a rope on board.  This shot is done as a continuous loop, so that it appears there are hundreds of ninja infiltrating the pirate ship.  Once on board, the ninja sneak through the ship and into the hold.  CUT: Back in the pirate’s party, things are getting even rowdier.  A pirate jumps up and grabs an electric guitar to play along with the soundtrack.  He has a hook for the hand that works the fretboard, but that doesn’t stop him.  He swings his other arm up to strum, and he shouts (turning the shout into a pirate-growl): PIRATE:    WAILIN’ HARRRRRRRRRD! Abrupt CUT: The ninja are at the door of the hold where the party is.  They burst the door open and stand, posed silently in the doorway doing ninja hand-motions.  The pirates freeze where they are, beer mugs in mid-swig, then growl as one: PIRATES:    ARRRRRRRRRRR! A general melee ensues.  The ninjas kick everyone’s ass. SCENE SIX: THE CAP’N RETURNS Back on deck, the CAP’N and his other PIRATES have finally returned.  They walk across the empty deck in the moonlight.  It is eerily silent save for the thump of wooden legs.  CAP’N:    I don’t be likin’ the looks o’ things.  You, go below and see where everyone is.  Arrr. The pirate thus ordered heads below deck.  He wanders through a hallway.  CUT: SUBNINJA is in a small room at the end of the hallway.  The pirate is headed straight for him.  Just before the pirate reaches him, Subninja leaps upward to the ceiling.  The pirate enters the room, looks around suspiciously, then continues.  After he leaves, Subninja leaps back down from the ceiling.  The pirate then immediately turns around and re-enters the room.  The ninja, thus caught, has no choice but to fight the pirate, and so there is a totally ass-kicking fight scene which ends in a draw.  Both the ninja and the pirate race out to report to their superiors.  CUT: On deck, the pirate is miming the story of his encounter with the ninja.  He punctuates his arm movements with growls. PIRATE: expressively    Arrrrrrr. ARRRR!  Arrr, ARRR ARRRRRRRR! The other pirates nod in understanding.  CUT: Below deck, in what’s left of the party room, Subninja is pantomiming his encounter with the pirate, in perfect silence.  The other ninja nod in understanding.  CUT: Above deck, the pirates are gathering to storm back below.  CUT: Below deck, the ninja have disappeared.  The pirates storm in, ready to fight, and are forced to stand down because there is no enemy.  They look out at the devastation - the ruined furniture, the dead pirates - and speak in unison. PIRATES:    HOLY CRAP! SCENE SEVEN: A REALLY WICKED FIGHT SCENE The pirates return to the deck to find the ninja assembled near the rail, waiting for them.  The pirates form a neat line of attack facing the ninja.  The pirates brandish their weaponry and roar as loudly as they can. PIRATES:     ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!! The ninja stand with their arms crossed. PIRATES:    ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! NINJA:    ... PIRATES:    ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! NINJA:    ... The pirates rush the ninja.  Some really kick-ass fighting commences.  After a time, Hi Brau walks into the center of the fray and everyone falls silent, watching him. HI BRAU:    We demand the return of the Imperial Seal which you have stolen from our emperor!  If you return it now, we will allow your deaths to be swift! Cap’n steps forward to face him.  Everyone turns to watch expectantly.  He raises his hook and points it at Hi Brau angrily.  There is silence for a full minute.  CUT: Long shot of Cap’n. CAP’N:    ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Long shot of Hi Brau. HI BRAU:    ... Mid shot of Cap’n. CAP’N:    ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Mid shot of Hi Brau. HI BRAU:    ... Closeup of Cap’n. CAP’N:    ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! Closeup of Hi Brau. HI BRAU:     ... Closeup of Cap’n, with only his eyes visible. CAP’N:    AARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! Closeup of Hi Brau, with only his eyes visible. HI BRAU:    ... Extreme closeup of Cap’n, with only one eyepatch visible. CAP’N:    ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!! Extreme closeup of Hi Brau, showing his single raised eyebrow. HI BRAU:    ... Long shot of the deck, showing a side view of the two main combatants.  Cap’n rushes towards Hi Brau, still growling and waving his weapons around like a madman.  Mid shot to show Hi Brau as he holds his ground until the last possible second... then he simply sidesteps the pirate.  Switch angles to watch as Cap’n pitches over the railing and right into the ocean.  Water splashes up onto the deck.  There is silence on the deck.  Long shot of the deck, with the pirates staring after their captain.  The ninjas swiftly and silently assemble themselves near their master.  The pirates stand and growl menacingly, then rush the ninjas, all of whom deftly sidestep.  Every single pirate pitches right over the railing after Cap’n as the ninjas watch in amusement. They give each other high fives. SCENE EIGHT: RETURN OF THE SEAL Back in the imperial palace, where the Emperor sits on his throne, gazing at the empty pillow where his seal belongs with the attitude of a lovesick teenager.  He whimpers occasionally.  Hi Brau and his ninja enter, and the Emperor perks up visibly as the ninja master approaches the throne.. HI BRAU:    Emperor, we have regained the Imperial Seal. The emperor leaps up from his throne and runs towards Hi Brau in slow motion.  The camera cuts back and forth between the emperor and the Seal in Hi Brau’s arms a few times as a love song plays in the background.  Finally the film speed returns to normal as the Emperor snatches the seal from Hi Brau’s arms and collapses on the floor to hug and cuddle it.  Moments pass. HI BRAU:      Excuse me, Emperor? The emperor waves his sleeve at Hi Brau in dismissal. HI BRAU:    Excuse me, Emperor?  Hello? The emperor waves his sleeve more insistently. HI BRAU:    EMPEROR! The emperor continues to wave his sleeve harder. HI BRAU:    Don’t I even get a tip? The emperor begins to wave his sleeve continually and very hard until Hi Brau gives up and leaves, once more bumping into the lesser ninja.  They exit the palace.  CUT: Outside in a field as the ninja leave the palace.  They are walking away and growing far from the camera, but their voices are clear. SUBNINJA:    Well, that was a load of crap. FADE TO BLACK. (Comment on this)
Monday, January 26th, 2009
1:56 am	One didn't really tend to think of Heavies as being the supervillain type, but this one had been; and one tended to feel that the old "oh no the base exploded and James got away and Bond was obviously dead" routine was getting pretty old, but it'd happened again anyway. Bond just hoped James wasn't off becoming his own grandfather this time. So there he was, stranded somewhere in what would be Belarus in a few decades, without so much as a map.  Living off the fat of the land had never been his kind of thing in the first place, and there wasn't much fat IN the land anyway when the land was the USSR.  He was dirty, he was hungry, he was covered in bruises and scrapes and he had holes in his suit.  He hadn't had a drink since the night before they infiltrated the base; he hadn't had a cigarette since the night after the infiltration went so spectacularly wrong, because even with careful rationing he went through at least one an hour.  He was miserable. --- James had gone back to Las Vegas.  Their room at HQ was the closest thing he had to a home.  Every inch of it was soaked with Bond: the bed they'd shared, the windowsill where he used to sit and pester James about petty bullshit, the drafting table he'd had brought in on their first night.  The scent of his cigarettes clung to the curtains.  His cologne, his razor, his toothbrush, laid out on the bathroom counter.  James spent a lot of time drinking. --- Meeting Felatja Sukmioff was the best thing that had ever happened to him, Bond felt at the time. Holed up in her apartment in Minsk, drinking her vodka and smoking her cigarettes and trying to get word out to the "free world" in any way he could; months went by. --- James eventually had to make a report to M; she wasn't a direct superior or anything, but they /were/ 007s, and it had to be done. It was she who made the first move, and frankly sleeping in her bed had multiple advantages.  It meant not being in Bond's bed, and it also meant having really good sex, which was nice. --- It was almost inevitable, a cliche of the genre, but it was still a shock when Bond returned to Felatja's apartment to find her lying beaten, bloodied, and undeniably deceased across her bed. He stood still and looked at her for a while, almost unaware of the sounds of motion around him until he tore his eyes away from her clotted, once-blonde curls to look to the uniformed Russian who'd stepped before him. "I suppose you expect me to talk?" "No, Mister Bond, I expect you to - " Bond never caught the rest of the sentence; he was too busy getting knocked out by a sudden blow to the back of the head. --- M came to James one night, interrupting his chartmaking.  "There is something I need to tell you."  Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder, her naturally stern face expressionless. He looked up at her questioningly. "We've had intelligence from Detra.  Bond is alive.  SMERSH has had him for at least two weeks.  They claim the delay was caused by his refusal to give his name."  A slight smile flirted at the edge of her lips.  "I suggest you act quickly." James was out of the room before she was done speaking. --- Bond glared through the blinding light they'd had pointed at his face for as long as he could remember - they were trying to use sleep deprivation on him now.  A woman - a medic, to judge by the clothes - walked, heels clicking, to his side and silently worked a needle into one of his strapped-down arms.  Bond craned his head as much as he could to look at her. "What is that, sodium pentothal?  You realize that's not actually a truth serum, right?  It's just a sedative that kind of turns off the filter between the brain and the mouth.  Are you sure you want to go there?  I'm Quebecois, I talk all the time anyway, this is just opening a whole big can of worms for you.  It's your funeral, I guess, but you're still not going to get anything useful out of me."  At about this point the drug started hitting him, and his language began to slip into French.  The woman continued observing and taking notes expressionlessly. "I mean, if you really want to know what I'm thinking, I'll tell you, but I don't think you do, because at the moment all I can think is how big your ass looks in those pants.  Seriously.  It's HUGE.  I mean, they say black is supposed to be slimming, but in your case it just makes you look like a huge beached whale.  Does it have its own post code? Your ass is GIGANTIC." A sudden harsh movement from the interrogator. "OW, you BITCH!  That's not even FAIR!  I'm just calling it like I see it!  If you don't want shit like that to happen, maybe you should think twice before you go shooting people up with 'truth serum'!  Fucking dogshit Christ!" --- [james calls some friends including lotta butte and stuff and they go save bond and shit is awesome] (Comment on this)