The Turnaround

Words may sting or words may soothe, sticks might bruise or gladly be used, and stones can help or harm you.

(There are two edges to every sword.)

Seduction/Challenge/Fill in the Blank

The young man hesitated, his fingers long around the doorknob.

"There's one thing you should know before you go in to see her," he cautioned, his words slow as he considered the wisdom of this warning. "I like you. You seem..." he searched for a moment. "Completely arrogant, yes, but... maybe you've got something."

I inclined my head in acknowledgement of the compliment, not sure what he was going to tell me, but impatient to get to the task set before me.

He nibbled at his lip, staining it white for a few brief moments before it faded back to a bloody pink.

"She'll do everything she can to shake you," he finally rushed out, his eyes flicking nervously down the hall. "And she's good. She's got toys, outfits, dance routines... but most importantly, she has herself. That's what's gotten all the others killed."

The man sagged then, the words, the warning that he'd been longing to give finally drawn out from the shallows of his conscience.

"Thanks...." I murmured. What he was involved in was madness; I did not blame him for needing to assuage his sense of guilt.

My gaze roamed over him again, and I paused. He wasn't bad looking; a tall, muscular build, emphasized by the de rigeur tuxedo, with curling blond hair and classic features. He held himself strong, and I wondered....

"Why not go for her yourself?"

He shuddered, fingers unconsciously tightening on the doorknob.

"God, no! She's beautiful, but I'm not dumb enough to think I could win at the obscene games she plays. The death she promises for losing..." His eyes clenched closed. "I've seen their bodies," he whispered.

I nodded. He would have seen horrible things in her service, undoubtedly, and that was enough to cheat anyone out of their courage.

Fortunately, I was not in his situation.

"You've done well," I told him, envisioning my victory, "but my body won't be the next you'll see."

I smiled at the door.

"Let's get on with it."

He admitted me to her chambers.

Change in Modus Operandi

Random clips from stories will now be posted alongside the usual poetic ramblings. Be inspired and enjoy.

(NOTE: Everything is copyrighted. Just to remind you.)

Forgotten Biology Homework

That SO figures.

*disgruntled face*

*glareage*

Let's throw daggers, toss down some pills, have a shotgun something, and be done with the whole damned affair.

(It does us no good to continually punish ourselves for things we can't change.)

To Stephen

Fucking catstring theory! That's exactly it.

And, yeah, I lied. I'm angry about what you're doing. Even if I understand why. I'm just so sick of hurting like this, and it's all your fault.

You poor, poor bastard.

Love is much too close to hate.

(Even if I know I'm only afraid and that I don't hate you.)