Whatever...
Hey.... whoever might be reading this. This is just my new account from shards_of_art, which I didn't really like... so if you actually read my journal, and read this one (and if you are, I should get a restraining order because you might be a stalker- and that goes for Vantrika, Crystal, and Squill too!) if you see anything from that account on this one, it's because I'm the SAME FREAKING PERSON. Happy? Too bad.
I've got a satirical fanfiction on the mind, (for InuYasha) and I thought perhaps someone might care to comment on it?
The girl was walking briskly down a plain white hallway. A rather smug look seemed to be bound and gagged upon her face, and her officious manner seemed to belie her age. Though she might have fancied that she looked like a professional, her occasional delusions were false. She looked like an obnoxious, know-it-all, four-year-old. She was dressed casually- a large t-shirt that she seemed to be drowning in and normal jeans. Relatively long brown hair was pulled into a tight, if somewhat messy bun, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses seemed to drip off her nose. She looked entirely average.
Behind her followed a slightly older girl, carrying a clipboard that she was scowling belligerently at. Many complex mathematical equations decorated the crisp white paper- from her expression, she did not understand any of it. Her appearance was quite to the contrary of the other’s; wavy light brown hair was gathered into a Grecian knot. Dark olive eyes glared furiously about. She would have been rather pretty had she not been scowling so fiercely. Not an outstanding beauty, but pretty. However, what made her strange was the long Roman tunic that she had chosen as her garb.
The brunette girl stopped before a plain white door and nodded at her assistant. Oredne, the tunic-clad girl, nodded back, a smile tipping the corners of her mouth up. They both looked at the door, and opened it.
“I am very displeased with all of you,” Twilight Oracle announced to her current surviving employees. Scorn dripped from her tongue. “You have failed in every task I seem to set you, even the simplest.”
A teenaged boy, who was older and far taller than Twilight glared at her with quite as much warlike loathing as Oredne could ever summon up. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded. “I don’t know why the heck we’re here, or who the hell you are!!”
“Now, now, InuYasha,” Twilight said in a condescendingly smug tone. “Fictional characters should never get themselves so worked up about nothing.”
Oredne’s smile broadened- though not in a friendly way. One would not find such a smile pleasant to happen upon in a dark room. Especially after watching a horror movie. “We can always-”
Twilight glared at her muse. “No. No reenacting of historical executions. I told you.” Oredne snorted softly and turned away.
“Anyway,” Twilight continued, dropping herself into a seat and assuming a languid pose, “you have failed every duty that I called you here for.”
“What are you talking about, you fu--”
“Oredne!” Twilight called briskly. “The charts!”
Oredne pulled the paper off her clipboard and shook it out with a loud snap. The paper, formerly a normal 8 by 11 inch sheet, unfolded to five times its previous size. Walking over to the wall, she held it up and secured it with two bright yellow happy-face magnets.
The Inu-tachi stared uncomprehendingly at the chart.
Twilight sighed. Standing up, she pulled a pointer from seemingly the air.
“Where’d you get it from, up your-”
Twilight cut out InuYasha’s potentially rude comment by turning around decisively and hitting him severely with it. It remained unclear whether she had meant to or not. “You have failed in your duty to inspire me to story in any way. I have been forced - through your unkind actions - to start what promises to be my most planned-out fic yet with this. A sappy introduction that shows me as the merciless sadistic boss who forces you to do things. Strange things. Sordid things. Heh heh. Strange, nasty, sordid things to each other. Bwah.”
Kagome’s eyelid twitched. Twilight coughed into her fist, and apologized insincerely.
“What do you expect us to do?” InuYasha demanded irately.
“Why...” Twilight said, as if it had just occurred to her that she wanted them to do anything at all, “....you must be my guests! I’ve got fanart to draw, sordid fanfiction to write...”
“Baka ningen wench,” said a small man stepping from the corner of the room. His black hair defied gravity-he was clad in a longish black robe of sorts.
Twilight looked sharply at Oredne, who had a caught-in-the-headlights look on her face that differed sharply from her preferred expression. “Oredne! Did you switch the characters from their respective rooms again?!”
Oredne muttered something.
“Unacceptable,” Twilight told her sternly. “You may not try to induce violence among characters from separate dimensions by baiting them when in other environments. He has to go back.”
“But- he was almost in a fight with the dog-eared freak before you got back- it could sell for a lot on E-bay-”
Twilight snapped a finger; a bulky boy around the same age materialized. “Take this character back to his experimental chamber- consider it your rent payment for my arm.”
The boy groaned and seized the small man’s hair- and vanished.
“Unacceptable,” Twilight said. “Unacceptable.”
InuYasha looked incredulously at Twilight. “You... rented out your arm?”
“Yes, what did you think?” Twilight asked, looking down her nose at him. Oredne started snickering.
“Does ickle Inu have dirty thoughts?” Oredne asked, her mouth in a wicked grin. “Someone needs to soap out his mind, he does...”
“I wasn’t thinking- I never said-” InuYasha blurted out.
“InuYasha!” Kagome cried, looking at him in sheer amazement.
“See that?” Twilight asked him with an air of great interest. “That was the skillful use of a- I shan’t say it- that was the skillful use of the talent called manipulation. Your problem, InuYasha, is that your entire life you seem to have been surrounded by incredibly pure-minded, generally nice people. With the possible exceptions of Miroku, and Naraku plus cronies.”
Miroku looked slightly bewildered.
“You must see, though, InuYasha, that Oredne and I are nor nice nor pure-minded. Rather far from it, in fact. I have an incredibly sordid mind; you will not say anything that I cannot twist into something terribly nasty and sexual. While I may have some remaining vestiges of kindness, they will not appear. Oredne, my muse, as the product of all my worst qualities, has never been kind, and has never had the chance of a clean mind, as I have.
“We will wipe any dignity you may have left from you- humiliate you, taunt you, possibly flaunt your privates- especially for you InuYasha, as you are quite a popular character. Do not expect any sympathy; we are horrible people sent here to do a horrible job.
“You are merely the actors in our play.”
The Inu-tachi stared at Twilight for a long time, then Inu-Yasha said in quite a bemused tone, “That’s the biggest crock of bull-shit I ever heard in my life.”
“Indeed it is, my dear object of many a fangirl’s obsession,” Twilight said mildly, staring at him with her eyes half-closed. “But if you weren’t such wonderful, believable characters, who so many people have warped into strange beings, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
Oredne chuckled sinisterly.
~ Begin ~
A Strange Encounter with Gothic Mimicry
A sporking of the gothic AU Kikyo. Also a sporking of badly done AUs.
InuYasha closed his locker and slung his backpack across his jersey-covered back. It was great, being a popular jock in Shikon no Tama high...
He turned around to see a strange girl lurking behind him. Heavily black mascara-ed eyes glared at him out of a chalk-white face with, oddly enough, purple lips. One sane, innocent student passing by did a double-take, wondering if it was the effect of pneumonia. Whatever. Wasn’t his problem, he’s sane.
InuYasha’s eyes took in the girl; prementioned makeup (showing how cold it must be in the school), and a strange array of clothing. A black tube top seemed to be about six inches too small; a fit stomach was exposed, blatantly ignoring any other school’s dress code. A short black miniskirt stopped enough to barely cover her, decorated “festively” with an array of silver chains. Long (black) fishnet stockings reached down to tall black boots with silver laces. Arm-warmers encased her forearms (Inu-Yasha noticed the tip of a long, angry-looking scar revealed) to end in jagged black-painted nails. Every possible part of her body was pierced. Yet something was familiar about her face...
InuYasha blinked rapidly, then peered at her closely to make sure. “K...Kikyo?” he asked incredulously. “Kikyo, I thought you were playing the slut role in this fic...”
“Life sucks,” Kikyo muttered in a monotone. “Cutting is good. Advocate suicide.”
“Kikyo? I’m confused..”
Kikyo sighed gustily, then leaned in to whisper in his ear after checking that no one was watching any longer. “The author changed her mind. She’s writing a Sango-hater.”
“What?” Inu-Yasha asked loudly, shocked. Kikyo hushed him urgently. It wasn’t his fault-Sango had been playing the perfect kid; straight A’s, in every organization, and dressed for success. “Then what’s Kagome?”
Kikyo grimaced and looked away. “You’ll see.”
“Yo, mah homies!!” InuYasha heard from behind him. “’Zup, dawg! Man, I ain’t seen yo guyz fer months, man!”
“Kagome?”
“Fer shizzle, yo! Dang, that jersey is tight, man! Where’d you get it?”
“Kagome, shut up,” InuYasha said urgently in a low tone. He turned to Kikyo said in the same tone, "Ghetto is NOT one of the classic Mary-sue forms!"
"DO YOU THINK I CARE??" came a loud voice over the intercom. "HAHA!! KAGOME'S A GANGSTA! JUST BECAUSE I GO TO A GANG SCHOOL! OREDNE, YOU TAKE OVER THIS NOW... I'VE GOT TO GO BUILD THAT ORIGAMI FIGURE OF HIEI AND YUKI SOHMA HAVING SEX...."
“What you talkin’, yo? You bin smokin’ som’in’?”
“Kagome, where’s Miroku-”
“Da fo’? We don’ mess wit ‘im... He be hardcore, yo!”
“He’s a punk rocker?” Kikyo asked, astonished.
“Fo’! He’s a hardcore nerd! Faggot... he wants in yo pants, homie!”
“INU-YAAAAASHA!!” came a whiny tone. Miroku came mincing up, dressed like Steve Urkel. “Heeeeey, Inu! What’s up with you?”
InuYasha backed away slowly. “No, this cannot be happening.. Noo.. Nooo...”
Suddenly Miroku’s clothes seemed to make a little “pop” and changed into normal clothes. The monk breathed a sigh of relief. His eye roamed over Kikyo’s outfit.
“Thank God, we’re changing-NOOO!!!” Kikyo screamed. Her clothes, if possible, were more revealing than before.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA,” came a loud voice over the intercom. “I MADE YOU THE FIC SLUT AGAIN!!”
“OREDNE! WHAT ARE YOU DOI- YOU CHANGED THE SETTINGS!! OREDNE! YOU- COME BACK HERE WITH THOSE!! NO GIVE HIM BACK HIS PANTS!!!!!! OH GOD MY EYES.... MY EYES... WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STANDNG THERE??? GO GET HER, YOU IDIOT!! AND... AND... DON’T GO INTO ANY DARK CORNERS WITH HER!”
Strange noises continued to come over the intercom. Kikyou sighed and turn to InuYasha, leaning casually against the his locker.
“So, InuYasha... ever seen the inside of the girl’s locker room?”
~ End ~
Yes, I know it's crazily out of character. Yes, Twilight is me. Oredne is fictional. She's my muse.
I've got a satirical fanfiction on the mind, (for InuYasha) and I thought perhaps someone might care to comment on it?
The girl was walking briskly down a plain white hallway. A rather smug look seemed to be bound and gagged upon her face, and her officious manner seemed to belie her age. Though she might have fancied that she looked like a professional, her occasional delusions were false. She looked like an obnoxious, know-it-all, four-year-old. She was dressed casually- a large t-shirt that she seemed to be drowning in and normal jeans. Relatively long brown hair was pulled into a tight, if somewhat messy bun, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses seemed to drip off her nose. She looked entirely average.
Behind her followed a slightly older girl, carrying a clipboard that she was scowling belligerently at. Many complex mathematical equations decorated the crisp white paper- from her expression, she did not understand any of it. Her appearance was quite to the contrary of the other’s; wavy light brown hair was gathered into a Grecian knot. Dark olive eyes glared furiously about. She would have been rather pretty had she not been scowling so fiercely. Not an outstanding beauty, but pretty. However, what made her strange was the long Roman tunic that she had chosen as her garb.
The brunette girl stopped before a plain white door and nodded at her assistant. Oredne, the tunic-clad girl, nodded back, a smile tipping the corners of her mouth up. They both looked at the door, and opened it.
“I am very displeased with all of you,” Twilight Oracle announced to her current surviving employees. Scorn dripped from her tongue. “You have failed in every task I seem to set you, even the simplest.”
A teenaged boy, who was older and far taller than Twilight glared at her with quite as much warlike loathing as Oredne could ever summon up. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded. “I don’t know why the heck we’re here, or who the hell you are!!”
“Now, now, InuYasha,” Twilight said in a condescendingly smug tone. “Fictional characters should never get themselves so worked up about nothing.”
Oredne’s smile broadened- though not in a friendly way. One would not find such a smile pleasant to happen upon in a dark room. Especially after watching a horror movie. “We can always-”
Twilight glared at her muse. “No. No reenacting of historical executions. I told you.” Oredne snorted softly and turned away.
“Anyway,” Twilight continued, dropping herself into a seat and assuming a languid pose, “you have failed every duty that I called you here for.”
“What are you talking about, you fu--”
“Oredne!” Twilight called briskly. “The charts!”
Oredne pulled the paper off her clipboard and shook it out with a loud snap. The paper, formerly a normal 8 by 11 inch sheet, unfolded to five times its previous size. Walking over to the wall, she held it up and secured it with two bright yellow happy-face magnets.
The Inu-tachi stared uncomprehendingly at the chart.
Twilight sighed. Standing up, she pulled a pointer from seemingly the air.
“Where’d you get it from, up your-”
Twilight cut out InuYasha’s potentially rude comment by turning around decisively and hitting him severely with it. It remained unclear whether she had meant to or not. “You have failed in your duty to inspire me to story in any way. I have been forced - through your unkind actions - to start what promises to be my most planned-out fic yet with this. A sappy introduction that shows me as the merciless sadistic boss who forces you to do things. Strange things. Sordid things. Heh heh. Strange, nasty, sordid things to each other. Bwah.”
Kagome’s eyelid twitched. Twilight coughed into her fist, and apologized insincerely.
“What do you expect us to do?” InuYasha demanded irately.
“Why...” Twilight said, as if it had just occurred to her that she wanted them to do anything at all, “....you must be my guests! I’ve got fanart to draw, sordid fanfiction to write...”
“Baka ningen wench,” said a small man stepping from the corner of the room. His black hair defied gravity-he was clad in a longish black robe of sorts.
Twilight looked sharply at Oredne, who had a caught-in-the-headlights look on her face that differed sharply from her preferred expression. “Oredne! Did you switch the characters from their respective rooms again?!”
Oredne muttered something.
“Unacceptable,” Twilight told her sternly. “You may not try to induce violence among characters from separate dimensions by baiting them when in other environments. He has to go back.”
“But- he was almost in a fight with the dog-eared freak before you got back- it could sell for a lot on E-bay-”
Twilight snapped a finger; a bulky boy around the same age materialized. “Take this character back to his experimental chamber- consider it your rent payment for my arm.”
The boy groaned and seized the small man’s hair- and vanished.
“Unacceptable,” Twilight said. “Unacceptable.”
InuYasha looked incredulously at Twilight. “You... rented out your arm?”
“Yes, what did you think?” Twilight asked, looking down her nose at him. Oredne started snickering.
“Does ickle Inu have dirty thoughts?” Oredne asked, her mouth in a wicked grin. “Someone needs to soap out his mind, he does...”
“I wasn’t thinking- I never said-” InuYasha blurted out.
“InuYasha!” Kagome cried, looking at him in sheer amazement.
“See that?” Twilight asked him with an air of great interest. “That was the skillful use of a- I shan’t say it- that was the skillful use of the talent called manipulation. Your problem, InuYasha, is that your entire life you seem to have been surrounded by incredibly pure-minded, generally nice people. With the possible exceptions of Miroku, and Naraku plus cronies.”
Miroku looked slightly bewildered.
“You must see, though, InuYasha, that Oredne and I are nor nice nor pure-minded. Rather far from it, in fact. I have an incredibly sordid mind; you will not say anything that I cannot twist into something terribly nasty and sexual. While I may have some remaining vestiges of kindness, they will not appear. Oredne, my muse, as the product of all my worst qualities, has never been kind, and has never had the chance of a clean mind, as I have.
“We will wipe any dignity you may have left from you- humiliate you, taunt you, possibly flaunt your privates- especially for you InuYasha, as you are quite a popular character. Do not expect any sympathy; we are horrible people sent here to do a horrible job.
“You are merely the actors in our play.”
The Inu-tachi stared at Twilight for a long time, then Inu-Yasha said in quite a bemused tone, “That’s the biggest crock of bull-shit I ever heard in my life.”
“Indeed it is, my dear object of many a fangirl’s obsession,” Twilight said mildly, staring at him with her eyes half-closed. “But if you weren’t such wonderful, believable characters, who so many people have warped into strange beings, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
Oredne chuckled sinisterly.
~ Begin ~
A Strange Encounter with Gothic Mimicry
A sporking of the gothic AU Kikyo. Also a sporking of badly done AUs.
InuYasha closed his locker and slung his backpack across his jersey-covered back. It was great, being a popular jock in Shikon no Tama high...
He turned around to see a strange girl lurking behind him. Heavily black mascara-ed eyes glared at him out of a chalk-white face with, oddly enough, purple lips. One sane, innocent student passing by did a double-take, wondering if it was the effect of pneumonia. Whatever. Wasn’t his problem, he’s sane.
InuYasha’s eyes took in the girl; prementioned makeup (showing how cold it must be in the school), and a strange array of clothing. A black tube top seemed to be about six inches too small; a fit stomach was exposed, blatantly ignoring any other school’s dress code. A short black miniskirt stopped enough to barely cover her, decorated “festively” with an array of silver chains. Long (black) fishnet stockings reached down to tall black boots with silver laces. Arm-warmers encased her forearms (Inu-Yasha noticed the tip of a long, angry-looking scar revealed) to end in jagged black-painted nails. Every possible part of her body was pierced. Yet something was familiar about her face...
InuYasha blinked rapidly, then peered at her closely to make sure. “K...Kikyo?” he asked incredulously. “Kikyo, I thought you were playing the slut role in this fic...”
“Life sucks,” Kikyo muttered in a monotone. “Cutting is good. Advocate suicide.”
“Kikyo? I’m confused..”
Kikyo sighed gustily, then leaned in to whisper in his ear after checking that no one was watching any longer. “The author changed her mind. She’s writing a Sango-hater.”
“What?” Inu-Yasha asked loudly, shocked. Kikyo hushed him urgently. It wasn’t his fault-Sango had been playing the perfect kid; straight A’s, in every organization, and dressed for success. “Then what’s Kagome?”
Kikyo grimaced and looked away. “You’ll see.”
“Yo, mah homies!!” InuYasha heard from behind him. “’Zup, dawg! Man, I ain’t seen yo guyz fer months, man!”
“Kagome?”
“Fer shizzle, yo! Dang, that jersey is tight, man! Where’d you get it?”
“Kagome, shut up,” InuYasha said urgently in a low tone. He turned to Kikyo said in the same tone, "Ghetto is NOT one of the classic Mary-sue forms!"
"DO YOU THINK I CARE??" came a loud voice over the intercom. "HAHA!! KAGOME'S A GANGSTA! JUST BECAUSE I GO TO A GANG SCHOOL! OREDNE, YOU TAKE OVER THIS NOW... I'VE GOT TO GO BUILD THAT ORIGAMI FIGURE OF HIEI AND YUKI SOHMA HAVING SEX...."
“What you talkin’, yo? You bin smokin’ som’in’?”
“Kagome, where’s Miroku-”
“Da fo’? We don’ mess wit ‘im... He be hardcore, yo!”
“He’s a punk rocker?” Kikyo asked, astonished.
“Fo’! He’s a hardcore nerd! Faggot... he wants in yo pants, homie!”
“INU-YAAAAASHA!!” came a whiny tone. Miroku came mincing up, dressed like Steve Urkel. “Heeeeey, Inu! What’s up with you?”
InuYasha backed away slowly. “No, this cannot be happening.. Noo.. Nooo...”
Suddenly Miroku’s clothes seemed to make a little “pop” and changed into normal clothes. The monk breathed a sigh of relief. His eye roamed over Kikyo’s outfit.
“Thank God, we’re changing-NOOO!!!” Kikyo screamed. Her clothes, if possible, were more revealing than before.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA,” came a loud voice over the intercom. “I MADE YOU THE FIC SLUT AGAIN!!”
“OREDNE! WHAT ARE YOU DOI- YOU CHANGED THE SETTINGS!! OREDNE! YOU- COME BACK HERE WITH THOSE!! NO GIVE HIM BACK HIS PANTS!!!!!! OH GOD MY EYES.... MY EYES... WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STANDNG THERE??? GO GET HER, YOU IDIOT!! AND... AND... DON’T GO INTO ANY DARK CORNERS WITH HER!”
Strange noises continued to come over the intercom. Kikyou sighed and turn to InuYasha, leaning casually against the his locker.
“So, InuYasha... ever seen the inside of the girl’s locker room?”
~ End ~
Yes, I know it's crazily out of character. Yes, Twilight is me. Oredne is fictional. She's my muse.