Sometimes, people tell me random things and then stories happen. Like that time a friend told me to write a Doctor Who stapler monster. Stuff like that
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Evidently Deviltown, Arc2, Part 4rallalonOctober 3 2011, 21:26:18 UTC
The first few days are chaos.
Getting Freckles sorted turns out to be the easiest of it. There are modules to sign up for and flatmates to meet and a campus to learn and a city to learn on top of the campus. If she didn't need to eat, she'd never see him.
That he hates the kennel is obvious. It's obvious because anyone with a brain or a heart or a soul should hate the kennel and every time Rose goes back there, she's hit by it all over again, the way no one notices.
At first, she thought it was the Flesh who were unnerving her. They're nothing like Freckles, nothing at all. The docile ones have their pens together and it's a common sight to see them slumped in piles. They lie around like stray cats but look like people: of course it's disturbing.
But then she starts paying attention.
The floors are hard. The air is cool. The Flesh are drained.
They're not foul and pathetic.
They're abused.
She begins to smuggle things in when she comes, little things at first, then larger things. For all Freckles is among his own kind, he clearly isn't. She's gained three pounds since uni began in the attempt to put him in a hazy state even vaguely like those of his penmates, but nothing's working. He's bored and can't sit still and it's worse than it ever was back in the flat. He's surrounded by Flesh and so terribly lonely.
Whenever she arrives, he stands. He stands and he comes to her, even if this involves shaking free of his sleeping penmates.
When she bites him, she takes her time about it and he talks all the while. He's light and clever, astonishing as always, and there's no sign of him going mad save for the fact that he must be. She couldn't stand this.
"Two more months," she reminds him every time. "Winter break." She's already looking into apartments.
"What are you getting me for Christmas?" he usually asks.
Or, a month away, "How's revision going?" or "Are my emails piling up?"
Or, a week away, in a tiny, controlled whisper: "Rose, they tried to drug me."
Evidently Deviltown, Arc2, Part 5rallalonOctober 3 2011, 21:26:52 UTC
From the beginning, there has been the issue of group feeding.
From the beginning, there has been the issue of Lady Cassandra.
Cassandra is a bitch. Rose has thought long and hard about this and her conclusion is this. Cassandra is a bitch. Then, now, and always. Rich, spoiled, spent her two gap years traveling the world, and has a pair of Flesh in the same pen as Freckles. Chip and Dale are from the same batch and Cassandra likes to pretend she can tell them apart.
Cassandra also likes to feed with her friends. Once and only once, Rose tried to stick around for the social occasion. Not because she likes any of Cassandra's friends, or even knows them. They all look at Rose with "chav" written in their eyes. Even so, being social with other people is a reason to remain among the Flesh. It's the excuse she needs to sit with Freckles with her hand on his back, or combing her fingers through his hair or holding his hand with care so that no one else can see.
She remained the odd one out, which would have been fine if it hadn't made Freckles look odd as well. He's smarter than all of them combined and when Rose is with him, he lets it show on his face.
She still doesn't know what to think about that, that he wears his dignity best when she's there to see it. It scares her, the thought that someone else might catch a glimpse.
So the attempts at social feeding stop. If not for limiting her time with Freckles back to the beginning, she wouldn't regret the lack at all. Watching the other Flesh submit - some afraid, some oblivious, some fawning - it all turns her stomach.
"How did the world get like this?" she asks Freckles once while they're alone, as "alone" as they can be in his pen, surrounded by blank-faced Flesh. It's a week before the attempted drugging, two weeks before it's time to sink or swim.
"Is that rhetorical?"
"Nope."
"Check my emails," he tells her.
"Already done. You've had nothing new for-"
"No," he corrects. "The essays and articles I translated over the summer, those."
"From Professor Mancrush?"
Freckles rolls his eyes. "Professor Yana, Rose."
"I know," she says. "I'll read them."
"Will you?"
She nods.
He smiles. It's a sight she hasn't seen in ages.
She presses their foreheads together, running her fingertips through his beard. She can feel him smile wider.
"Everyone's looking," he warns, warm and chiding.
"Get used to it," she warns right back.
They grin into each other's faces, so very close and still so very far.
Re: Evidently Deviltown, Arc2, Part 5mylittlepwnyOctober 4 2011, 00:27:13 UTC
There are...no words for how hard and fast my heart beat throughout all of this. Just.
The Kennels. God. God. And Rose, and group feeding, and Cassandra ugh and he is in there all alone THEY'RE GOING TO TRY AND DRUG THEM WHEN ARE THEY MOVING OUT WHEN OH GOD.
He smiles. It's a sight she hasn't seen in ages.
She presses their foreheads together, running her fingertips through his beard. She can feel him smile wider.
"Everyone's looking," he warns, warm and chiding.
"Get used to it," she warns right back.
They grin into each other's faces, so very close and still so very far.
And somehow, this was the worst. Because it's them, Freckles and Rose, and this moment should not be happening where it's happening, it should be happening on some hill looking over Cardiff at sunset.
Re: Evidently Deviltown, Arc2, Part 5rallalonOctober 4 2011, 02:08:20 UTC
And somehow, this was the worst. Because it's them, Freckles and Rose, and this moment should not be happening where it's happening, it should be happening on some hill looking over Cardiff at sunset.
Rather why this entire section had to be written in summary. Not as bad as the Ood pens, but still bad.
Getting Freckles sorted turns out to be the easiest of it. There are modules to sign up for and flatmates to meet and a campus to learn and a city to learn on top of the campus. If she didn't need to eat, she'd never see him.
That he hates the kennel is obvious. It's obvious because anyone with a brain or a heart or a soul should hate the kennel and every time Rose goes back there, she's hit by it all over again, the way no one notices.
At first, she thought it was the Flesh who were unnerving her. They're nothing like Freckles, nothing at all. The docile ones have their pens together and it's a common sight to see them slumped in piles. They lie around like stray cats but look like people: of course it's disturbing.
But then she starts paying attention.
The floors are hard. The air is cool. The Flesh are drained.
They're not foul and pathetic.
They're abused.
She begins to smuggle things in when she comes, little things at first, then larger things. For all Freckles is among his own kind, he clearly isn't. She's gained three pounds since uni began in the attempt to put him in a hazy state even vaguely like those of his penmates, but nothing's working. He's bored and can't sit still and it's worse than it ever was back in the flat. He's surrounded by Flesh and so terribly lonely.
Whenever she arrives, he stands. He stands and he comes to her, even if this involves shaking free of his sleeping penmates.
When she bites him, she takes her time about it and he talks all the while. He's light and clever, astonishing as always, and there's no sign of him going mad save for the fact that he must be. She couldn't stand this.
"Two more months," she reminds him every time. "Winter break." She's already looking into apartments.
"What are you getting me for Christmas?" he usually asks.
Or, a month away, "How's revision going?" or "Are my emails piling up?"
Or, a week away, in a tiny, controlled whisper: "Rose, they tried to drug me."
Reply
From the beginning, there has been the issue of Lady Cassandra.
Cassandra is a bitch. Rose has thought long and hard about this and her conclusion is this. Cassandra is a bitch. Then, now, and always. Rich, spoiled, spent her two gap years traveling the world, and has a pair of Flesh in the same pen as Freckles. Chip and Dale are from the same batch and Cassandra likes to pretend she can tell them apart.
Cassandra also likes to feed with her friends. Once and only once, Rose tried to stick around for the social occasion. Not because she likes any of Cassandra's friends, or even knows them. They all look at Rose with "chav" written in their eyes. Even so, being social with other people is a reason to remain among the Flesh. It's the excuse she needs to sit with Freckles with her hand on his back, or combing her fingers through his hair or holding his hand with care so that no one else can see.
She remained the odd one out, which would have been fine if it hadn't made Freckles look odd as well. He's smarter than all of them combined and when Rose is with him, he lets it show on his face.
She still doesn't know what to think about that, that he wears his dignity best when she's there to see it. It scares her, the thought that someone else might catch a glimpse.
So the attempts at social feeding stop. If not for limiting her time with Freckles back to the beginning, she wouldn't regret the lack at all. Watching the other Flesh submit - some afraid, some oblivious, some fawning - it all turns her stomach.
"How did the world get like this?" she asks Freckles once while they're alone, as "alone" as they can be in his pen, surrounded by blank-faced Flesh. It's a week before the attempted drugging, two weeks before it's time to sink or swim.
"Is that rhetorical?"
"Nope."
"Check my emails," he tells her.
"Already done. You've had nothing new for-"
"No," he corrects. "The essays and articles I translated over the summer, those."
"From Professor Mancrush?"
Freckles rolls his eyes. "Professor Yana, Rose."
"I know," she says. "I'll read them."
"Will you?"
She nods.
He smiles. It's a sight she hasn't seen in ages.
She presses their foreheads together, running her fingertips through his beard. She can feel him smile wider.
"Everyone's looking," he warns, warm and chiding.
"Get used to it," she warns right back.
They grin into each other's faces, so very close and still so very far.
Reply
The Kennels. God. God. And Rose, and group feeding, and Cassandra ugh and he is in there all alone THEY'RE GOING TO TRY AND DRUG THEM WHEN ARE THEY MOVING OUT WHEN OH GOD.
He smiles. It's a sight she hasn't seen in ages.
She presses their foreheads together, running her fingertips through his beard. She can feel him smile wider.
"Everyone's looking," he warns, warm and chiding.
"Get used to it," she warns right back.
They grin into each other's faces, so very close and still so very far.
And somehow, this was the worst. Because it's them, Freckles and Rose, and this moment should not be happening where it's happening, it should be happening on some hill looking over Cardiff at sunset.
Seriously. My heart is still clenching.
Reply
Rather why this entire section had to be written in summary. Not as bad as the Ood pens, but still bad.
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basically.
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it's not going to happen is it?
*sigh*
I just.......really want more of this
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