triple trouble!
Author: Aublivienne
Story: Cataclysmos
Title: A Bulldozer Trying To Catch A Butterfly
Challenge: Grapefruit #8 (in stone)
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 598
Summary: Sheridan stares death in the face and laughs, much to Damien's dismay.
This was it. Standing out in the cold all night was finally going to pay off.
Sheridan had gone into the club hours ago, and Damien had been waiting for him ever since. He was finally going to do this, and it was going to be great.
Sheridan walked out, trying his best to hold up a scantily-clad brunette. “You should…you should come home with me,” the girl slurred, stumbling over her broken stilettos. “You’re cute.”
“I’m just trying to make sure you get home okay,” Sheridan said, opening the back door of a taxi at the curb. He helped her inside, trying his best to keep her from exposing herself.
“Oh, come on!” the girl squeaked, opening the window. “It’s okay, I won’t tell your girlfriend.”
“Don’t have one.”
“So what’s stopping you? Come on!”
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but no thanks.” Sheridan smiled and handed the girl a broken-off heel. “You be careful, alright? That crazy murderer’s still running around out there.”
Isn’t that charming? Damien thought, glaring at the pair from his spot in the alley. Sheridan was, as usual, being someone’s fucking white knight of the evening. Sickening.
Sheridan watched the taxi drive off before turning around and heading in the other direction. As he passed by the alley, Damien reached out and pulled him in by the front of his shirt.
“What the--?” Sheridan looked confused. He looked around for a moment before noticing the hooded figure in front of him. For a split second, a look of sheer panic crossed his features.
He doesn’t know it’s me. Damien smiled as he ran his hand along the steel edge of his guitar. He had thought that it was kind of an odd thing to have there at first, but that was before he noticed that he could superheat it by swinging the guitar. I saved this one just for you, bitch.
In one swift movement, Damien grabbed the neck of the guitar and swung it with all of his might. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.
Clang!
Damien blinked. ‘Clang’? What was this ‘clang’ business?
Sheridan had thrown his arm-which was still whole, and not a cauterized stump like it should have been-up in front of his face at the last second, but something was different. His skin had gone kind of scaly and…rocky. What the hell…?
“It’s kind of a talent I have,” Sheridan said with a smirk. “It’s a lot more productive than the whole psycho murderer thing.”
Damien made a frustrated sound and swung again, but Sheridan sidestepped. “You smug fucking bastard!” Damien yelled. “Just do me a favor and die, will you?”
“You know, you sound awfully familiar.” Sheridan gasped as the edge of the guitar caught his shirt, burning a sizeable hole in it. “Why the hell am I having such bad luck with my shirts lately?”
“Stand still!” Another swing, but it hit a metal trash can and melted it nearly in half.
Sheridan laughed, but stopped when he heard faint sirens in the distance. “Dammit,” he muttered. “The cops will keep me here all night with their questions, and I’ve got plans tomorrow. I’m out.” He walked backwards towards the street, not taking his eyes off of the murderer.
He’s obnoxious, but he’s not dumb. “You’re not going to tell them about me?” Damien asked.
“Not this time. But you should seriously chill with that whole killing bit. It’s not cool.”
“I really fucking hate you.”
Sheridan smiled. “You know, I get that a lot.” With that, he sprinted down the sidewalk.
Author: Aublivienne
Story: Cataclysmos
Title: Average Everyday Sane Psycho Supergoddess
Challenge: Grapefruit #24 (a penny saved), Lemon-Lime Sorbet #8 (role reversal)
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 512
Summary: Ophelia, sweet as she is, will END YOU AND ALL THAT YOU LOVE.
Ophelia Prewitt was a lady. A real lady, not like those women you meet in bars who get drunk and have sex with everyone and try to pass it off as ‘celebrating their femininity’ or something like that. Ophelia Prewitt always wore knee-length skirts and crossed her legs at the ankle and had perfect table manners and taught etiquette classes in her spare time.
However, this didn’t mean that Ophelia wouldn’t make someone feel two inches tall in an instant if she had to.
“Sheridan, isn’t that the one who hit you the other day?” Ophelia asked, looking towards a familiar head of red hair with large headphones.
Sheridan glanced up. “Who, Damien? I’m over it. We got mad, and we did what dumb guys do.”
Ophelia sighed. “I really wish the two of you had just talked it out, you know. Do you mind if I invite him to sit with us? You seem to mention him a lot lately.”
“D-do I?” Sheridan stuttered. “I mean, sure. That’s cool.”
Ophelia waved as Damien passed. “Excuse me! Damien, right?” She smiled sweetly as he raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to sit and chat with us over lunch?”
Damien wrinkled his nose at the pair and took a bite out of his beef jerky. “No,” he finally said.
“Are you sure? Sheridan seems like he really wants your company.”
Damien’s expression darkened. “Fuck both of you.”
Sheridan opened his mouth to say something, but Ophelia beat him to it. “Excuse me? Are you honestly so tactless and so desperate for attention that you have to speak to people like that? No wonder you’re alone all the time. I wouldn’t want to be near you either! Lonely and mean people generally turn into hermits. Or even sociopaths! Did you know that?”
Damien looked at the ground and shook his head.
“I’m certain you didn’t! Change your ways. And-“ Ophelia plucked the jerky from Damien’s hand and neatly deposited it into the trash can next to her. “You shouldn’t eat these. They’re bad for you and they’re a waste of money. How much are these, two dollars? How often do you buy them?”
“Every day,” Damien mumbled, pouting.
“Every day,” Ophelia repeated. “So if we don’t count weekends, that’s five days, which means that you’re spending ten dollars a week on something that’s bad for you. If you saved that ten dollars, however, you could buy something nice for yourself. Maybe you could buy a movie. Something lighthearted to watch with the friends you could make if you weren’t so terrible to everyone!”
Damien huffed and stalked off. The laugh that Sheridan was holding back finally came out, and the redhead whipped back around.
“What the-“ Damien began, but before he could get “fuck are you laughing at you bony asshole” out, he caught sight of Ophelia’s withering glare and stopped.
“Honestly, you’re brilliant,” Sheridan said, grinning. “It’s nice to see him get chewed out for a change. Remind me never to piss you off.”
Ophelia sipped her coffee. “Language, please.”
Author: Aublivienne
Story: Cataclysmos
Title: Somnambulated
Challenge: Lemon-Lime Sorbet #9 (in your dreams)
Extras: Pocky
Rating: R
Wordcount: 100
Summary: All of Sheridan's encounters like to haunt him, it seems.
Sheridan hit the snooze button and stared up at the ceiling. He could do this. Everyone had weird dreams, right?
“Touch yourself, you pathetic slut.”
No. No, no, no. He couldn’t have sex dreams about his classmates. It made school really awkward and distracting. This just couldn’t happen.
“Show me how desperate you are, Sheridan.”
Sheridan buried his face in his pillow and groaned. He was not looking forward to being in the darkroom today.
When he looked up again, Sorian was sitting next to him. “Damien again?” he asked with a sympathetic smile.
“Class is starting to get weird.”
Story: Cataclysmos
Title: A Bulldozer Trying To Catch A Butterfly
Challenge: Grapefruit #8 (in stone)
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 598
Summary: Sheridan stares death in the face and laughs, much to Damien's dismay.
This was it. Standing out in the cold all night was finally going to pay off.
Sheridan had gone into the club hours ago, and Damien had been waiting for him ever since. He was finally going to do this, and it was going to be great.
Sheridan walked out, trying his best to hold up a scantily-clad brunette. “You should…you should come home with me,” the girl slurred, stumbling over her broken stilettos. “You’re cute.”
“I’m just trying to make sure you get home okay,” Sheridan said, opening the back door of a taxi at the curb. He helped her inside, trying his best to keep her from exposing herself.
“Oh, come on!” the girl squeaked, opening the window. “It’s okay, I won’t tell your girlfriend.”
“Don’t have one.”
“So what’s stopping you? Come on!”
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but no thanks.” Sheridan smiled and handed the girl a broken-off heel. “You be careful, alright? That crazy murderer’s still running around out there.”
Isn’t that charming? Damien thought, glaring at the pair from his spot in the alley. Sheridan was, as usual, being someone’s fucking white knight of the evening. Sickening.
Sheridan watched the taxi drive off before turning around and heading in the other direction. As he passed by the alley, Damien reached out and pulled him in by the front of his shirt.
“What the--?” Sheridan looked confused. He looked around for a moment before noticing the hooded figure in front of him. For a split second, a look of sheer panic crossed his features.
He doesn’t know it’s me. Damien smiled as he ran his hand along the steel edge of his guitar. He had thought that it was kind of an odd thing to have there at first, but that was before he noticed that he could superheat it by swinging the guitar. I saved this one just for you, bitch.
In one swift movement, Damien grabbed the neck of the guitar and swung it with all of his might. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.
Clang!
Damien blinked. ‘Clang’? What was this ‘clang’ business?
Sheridan had thrown his arm-which was still whole, and not a cauterized stump like it should have been-up in front of his face at the last second, but something was different. His skin had gone kind of scaly and…rocky. What the hell…?
“It’s kind of a talent I have,” Sheridan said with a smirk. “It’s a lot more productive than the whole psycho murderer thing.”
Damien made a frustrated sound and swung again, but Sheridan sidestepped. “You smug fucking bastard!” Damien yelled. “Just do me a favor and die, will you?”
“You know, you sound awfully familiar.” Sheridan gasped as the edge of the guitar caught his shirt, burning a sizeable hole in it. “Why the hell am I having such bad luck with my shirts lately?”
“Stand still!” Another swing, but it hit a metal trash can and melted it nearly in half.
Sheridan laughed, but stopped when he heard faint sirens in the distance. “Dammit,” he muttered. “The cops will keep me here all night with their questions, and I’ve got plans tomorrow. I’m out.” He walked backwards towards the street, not taking his eyes off of the murderer.
He’s obnoxious, but he’s not dumb. “You’re not going to tell them about me?” Damien asked.
“Not this time. But you should seriously chill with that whole killing bit. It’s not cool.”
“I really fucking hate you.”
Sheridan smiled. “You know, I get that a lot.” With that, he sprinted down the sidewalk.
Author: Aublivienne
Story: Cataclysmos
Title: Average Everyday Sane Psycho Supergoddess
Challenge: Grapefruit #24 (a penny saved), Lemon-Lime Sorbet #8 (role reversal)
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 512
Summary: Ophelia, sweet as she is, will END YOU AND ALL THAT YOU LOVE.
Ophelia Prewitt was a lady. A real lady, not like those women you meet in bars who get drunk and have sex with everyone and try to pass it off as ‘celebrating their femininity’ or something like that. Ophelia Prewitt always wore knee-length skirts and crossed her legs at the ankle and had perfect table manners and taught etiquette classes in her spare time.
However, this didn’t mean that Ophelia wouldn’t make someone feel two inches tall in an instant if she had to.
“Sheridan, isn’t that the one who hit you the other day?” Ophelia asked, looking towards a familiar head of red hair with large headphones.
Sheridan glanced up. “Who, Damien? I’m over it. We got mad, and we did what dumb guys do.”
Ophelia sighed. “I really wish the two of you had just talked it out, you know. Do you mind if I invite him to sit with us? You seem to mention him a lot lately.”
“D-do I?” Sheridan stuttered. “I mean, sure. That’s cool.”
Ophelia waved as Damien passed. “Excuse me! Damien, right?” She smiled sweetly as he raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to sit and chat with us over lunch?”
Damien wrinkled his nose at the pair and took a bite out of his beef jerky. “No,” he finally said.
“Are you sure? Sheridan seems like he really wants your company.”
Damien’s expression darkened. “Fuck both of you.”
Sheridan opened his mouth to say something, but Ophelia beat him to it. “Excuse me? Are you honestly so tactless and so desperate for attention that you have to speak to people like that? No wonder you’re alone all the time. I wouldn’t want to be near you either! Lonely and mean people generally turn into hermits. Or even sociopaths! Did you know that?”
Damien looked at the ground and shook his head.
“I’m certain you didn’t! Change your ways. And-“ Ophelia plucked the jerky from Damien’s hand and neatly deposited it into the trash can next to her. “You shouldn’t eat these. They’re bad for you and they’re a waste of money. How much are these, two dollars? How often do you buy them?”
“Every day,” Damien mumbled, pouting.
“Every day,” Ophelia repeated. “So if we don’t count weekends, that’s five days, which means that you’re spending ten dollars a week on something that’s bad for you. If you saved that ten dollars, however, you could buy something nice for yourself. Maybe you could buy a movie. Something lighthearted to watch with the friends you could make if you weren’t so terrible to everyone!”
Damien huffed and stalked off. The laugh that Sheridan was holding back finally came out, and the redhead whipped back around.
“What the-“ Damien began, but before he could get “fuck are you laughing at you bony asshole” out, he caught sight of Ophelia’s withering glare and stopped.
“Honestly, you’re brilliant,” Sheridan said, grinning. “It’s nice to see him get chewed out for a change. Remind me never to piss you off.”
Ophelia sipped her coffee. “Language, please.”
Author: Aublivienne
Story: Cataclysmos
Title: Somnambulated
Challenge: Lemon-Lime Sorbet #9 (in your dreams)
Extras: Pocky
Rating: R
Wordcount: 100
Summary: All of Sheridan's encounters like to haunt him, it seems.
Sheridan hit the snooze button and stared up at the ceiling. He could do this. Everyone had weird dreams, right?
“Touch yourself, you pathetic slut.”
No. No, no, no. He couldn’t have sex dreams about his classmates. It made school really awkward and distracting. This just couldn’t happen.
“Show me how desperate you are, Sheridan.”
Sheridan buried his face in his pillow and groaned. He was not looking forward to being in the darkroom today.
When he looked up again, Sorian was sitting next to him. “Damien again?” he asked with a sympathetic smile.
“Class is starting to get weird.”