my heart's a tart, your body's rent
Trying to deal with fanfiction.net these days is like swallowing pig-flavored glass. I need to stop writing incomplete, half-assed humor things about Reno that don't go anywhere, and also to get help about this AIM thing.
"I'm blackmailing you into having sex with me," Reno informed him one day, showing up out of the blue while Cloud was on a delivery route to Kalm.
"What are you blackmailing me about?" he asked.
"I hadn't actually thought that far," Reno admitted, and disappeared again.
***
"Reno's blackmailing me for sex," he told Tifa when he got back to Midgar.
"What about?" she asked, not looking up from washing the dishes.
"I'm not really sure," he admitted. "I don't think he knows yet either."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure about that either." He lifted up the cover to the pot cooking on the back of the stove, inhaling the warm smell of garlic and trying to lift a piece of chicken out without burning his fingers.
"Well, it is Reno," she said, as though that explained everything. "Hands. Hands!"
It really did sort of explain it, Cloud thought as he went meekly to go wash his hands before getting something to eat.
***
"Don't forget about the blackmailing you thing," Reno reminded him in Junon, two weeks later.
"Nnn," he said first, because sometimes the best way of dealing with Reno was to have a large supply of noncommittal grunts and to simply to pretend he was a particularly loud, alcoholic, and (depending on how much alcohol) ambulatory piece of furniture, but Reno seemed so expectant that he gave up. "I haven't."
"For sex."
"For sex, yeah."
"Good."
He waited a bit. Reno didn't seem inclined to say anything else.
"Part of blackmailing someone usually involves having something to blackmail someone about," he offered.
"I know that," Reno said. "What, you think I've never done this before?"
"Just checking," Cloud said, swung one leg over his motorcycle, and drove off.
***
"Is Reno still blackmailing you for sex?" Tifa asked him while she was helping him load the next Corel delivery onto the back of his motorcycle at the door of the bar.
He thought it over. "Sort of?"
"Oh," Tifa said. She picked up the last box and handed it to him. The word "FRAGILE" was scrawled all over it, and it clinked ominously, like glass. It sounded like a chandelier. He wondered who in Corel would ever need a chandelier. "Do you want me to, you know, beat him?"
"No. No, that's all right," Cloud said.
"Mm," she said. "I think that's everything."
There were a few seconds of silence, time to adjust his gloves and sunglasses, give everything a test-shove to see if it would hold. The sounds of Marlene and Denzel playing some game that involving galloping across the room upstairs filtered through the ceiling, and if he looked up he could actually see little puffs of dust coming from the between the cracks in the ceiling, golden motes just floating in the weak morning sunlight. They were actually sort of pretty to watch. Relaxing, even.
"He just seems to like reminding me about it. I don't really have to actually do anything," he finally said. "I don't think."
She nodded, and seemed to be paying particular attention to the knots that roped the boxes down.
"There. All secure. And I made you a lunch," she said finally. "Don't forget about it again and leave it at the bottom of your bag for a month until you have to find it by the smell."
"Thanks," he said, and he knew that she knew what he meant.
***
"I'm--"
"Blackmailing me for sex, I know." Cloud gave Reeve the computer disks and the box of scavenged electronics. "Here, I hope these still work."
"I'll figure something out," Reeve said, smiling gratefully. "I'm thinking of making a new form of transport for Cait. Something a little more multi-terrain, you know. And waterproof."
"Good luck," Cloud said. He looked around. "Rufus around somewhere?"
"He's in the back with Tseng and Elena, going over something. Has to do with the sewers, I think. There's some concern about one of the old ducts contaminating the new water supply."
"Yo, blackmailing here?" Reno said crossly, and tapped his nightstick against the desk for emphasis.
"You're not," Cloud said, "because you still haven't said what you're blackmailing me about, and you haven't given me a reason why, either of which you need to blackmail. Officially, I mean." He wondered if it was at all a good idea to explain any of that to Reno, but it really hadn't seemed to make much difference so far.
"He's right, you know," Reeve added, not looking up from where he was already picking through the electronics. "You need motive and material. I mean, the keystone thing, I laid it out for him like that and it worked pretty well. Are there any 6-B copper cables in here?"
"Go fuck a mog, Reeve," Reno said, and poked Cloud's arm with his nightstick. "So, right now good for you? There's a closet across the hall if you don't wanna do it in front of toy-boy there. I think it even has carpet."
"You're not listening," Cloud said. "You can't blackmail me."
"Look, Strife," Reno said in a more reasonable tone than anyone tended to hear from Reno, ever. "How many people have you blackmailed into sex lately? I don't think you're any expert on the subject."
"I am."
"Shut up, Reeve."
"Look." He resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall, even though the building was already quite beaten up and Rufus probably wouldn't notice a few more dents and cracks. "Just. I'm not even going to. You know what, never mind."
"Because," Reno said, as though he'd actually asked the question. He smacked his nightstick against his palm one more time, stroked it in a way that was more than a little disturbing, glared, and walked out of the room as though he was the one who was being put-upon.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
"It's nice to have a hobby," Reeve finally said, brightly.
***
"Does he ever--" he asked Rude.
"No."
"Is there any way to--"
"No."
"Well, what do you--"
"Partially deaf in my left ear. I always make sure he's standing on that side."
Rude was no help at all, and Cloud figured he would start hating all Turks on principle again.
It didn't help much, but it was pretty good for the vindictive twenty minutes it took him to deliberately eat nearly all of the homemade cookies Tifa had put in the bottom of his satchel. Rude looked on wistfully, and Cloud felt slightly bad, but he ignored it as long as he could before he gave in and let Rude have some of the broken ones.
"Sometimes I just hit him," Rude added.
No help at all.
***
He didn't meet anyone at all in Rocket Town who wanted to blackmail him for anything, or cared if he were being blackmailed. It was very restful and he resolved to come back soon.
***
Yeah. Anyway. Can anyone point me to a tutorial, preferably for Paint Shop Pro, on making those nifty iPod livejournal icons of your favorite characters? Or at least give me a vague idea of how to work it out? My problem is, all I find are explanations for Photoshop. Would be deeply appreciated.
twigcollins: Okay. Cloud comes back from training and walks in his room. Zack is standing on his bed with a saucepan and a ladle, wielding it like a gladiator.
twigcollins: Cloud: ...
twigcollins: *potapotapotapotapota*
twigcollins: Cloud: OW SHIT!
twigcollins: Cactaur: *darts into closet*
twigcollins: Zack: Get it get it get it!
ThorneScratch: Oh God.
twigcollins: Zack: They're for Thanksgiving. You hollow them out and fill them with hamburger meat and chili seasoning.
twigcollins: Cloud: That is the most horrible thing you've ever said, ever.
ThorneScratch: Oh God. I love Zack.
twigcollins: So, yeah. Eventually Seph walks in to find Cloud and Zack both on his bed, Cloud covered in needles, a fine coat of needles on the floor, and Zack wielding an ice materia and shooting randomly under the bed while Cloud gives vague directions and mostly tries not to get shot anymore.
ThorneScratch: What does Seph do when he sees them?
twigcollins: Turns around and walks out.
ThorneScratch: He would.
twigcollins: Probably steps on the cactuar or something.
twigcollins: Zack: We can't eat it now! Well, maybe gumbo.
ThorneScratch: Boot-cactuar, rated slightly below boot-crab.
twigcollins: Tenderized. I don't think anyone but Zack can actually eat stuffed cactaur, as it probably dies wearing the shocked face.
Zack: Put a napkin over it.
Cloud: I feel ill.
Seph: I just don't trust anything you've touched.
ThorneScratch: Thanksgiving dinner with Zack, Cloud, and Seph. An epic adventure. Zack insists he can cook everything. By which he means, Cloud will cook everything. Cloud gets super-nervous at the thought Sephiroth will be eating his food, and twitches for days when anyone says the word "Thanksgiving". Eventually, it gets so bad that he twitches whenever he hears anything beginning with the letter "t".
ThorneScratch: And then, Zack forgets to thaw the bird and tries to use a fire materia on it.
twigcollins: God, he would.
ThorneScratch: Seph eventually just shows up. He doesn't even bother to walk fully into the apartment. He can't because of all the smoke. And he pulls them both out to go to the catered dinner he's already arranged beforehand, knowing full well that this is going to happen. Like it does every year.
twigcollins: And this twenty five pound half-frozen turkey on fire will go shooting out the window right into the Turks quarters.
twigcollins: Reno: Woo! Dinner's on!
ThorneScratch: Reno: Hey, window turkey! Score!
twigcollins: 'Tis the season for 'found' meat. I'm not going to eat any found cake.
twigcollins: "Now the thing about cactuars--"
twigcollins: *lifts lid*
twigcollins: *potapotapotapota*
twigcollins: Zack *slams lid*
twigcollins: "You try to make sure they're dead first. Hand me that brick."
twigcollins: Cloud: Trauma.
twigcollins: The thing is, because cactuars live in the desert, you can't just shove the pan in the oven, crank it, and wait. They don't die.
twigcollins: Zack: *lifts lid*
twigcollins: *potapotapotapota*
twigcollins: Zack: Maybe I can drown it in barbecue sauce.
twigcollins: Cloud will be finding it for weeks.
ThorneScratch: Streaking through the house and ambushing them from strange places. I suggest boiling. Water's got to do something to it.
twigcollins: Will it scream like a lobster?
ThorneScratch: Yes.
twigcollins: Cloud: Trauma!
ThorneScratch: With the little shocked face, totally. They'll have a glass lid for the pot so Zack can see it through the lid and watch it all happening. You get the full hi-def experience.
twigcollins: Oh God.
twigcollins: Zack: The face is the tender part.
twigcollins: Cloud: TRAUMA!
ThorneScratch: Zack: The fear releases endorphins that tenderizes the meat.
twigcollins: Zack: Also, I use Cajun spices. Just like momma used back on the bayou.
twigcollins: He didn't even know what he was eating back then. It was just 'meat'.
ThorneScratch: 'Found meat.' Fortunately for Cloud, half of Zack's found meat is 'found' in Seph's fridge. And by 'found' he means 'stolen'.
***
twigcollins: Another Sephiroth moment. "You pierced what? You pierced Cloud's what?"
ThorneScratch: "Did you knock him unconscious or something?"
twigcollins: Zack and the night of self-piercings.
"That's not a piercing gun, that's a nail gun."
ThorneScratch: "So? I got an ice materia and some paper towels. We'll be fine."
twigcollins: Cloud: Call the police
ThorneScratch: You know what he needs? Like, remember when Superman gave Jimmy a special watch that could signal Superman whenever Jimmy needed help? Sephiroth needs to give Cloud one of those for Zack-related emergencies
twigcollins: Yes. It would play 'It's Raining Men'
twigcollins: Rufus: Is that 'It's Raining Men'?
twigcollins: Seph: Shut up, gaylord.
ThorneScratch: Rufus has no room to talk, yeah. The white pimp suit and black shoes says it all.
twigcollins: I like villains in white.
***
ThorneScratch: Where did Zack get the cactuars, anyway? Reno?
twigcollins: Either that or special order. 'Reno knows a guy.' It's like Harry and David's with the fruit of the month club. One month - cactaurs. Rufus would get it as a Christmas gift for employees he didn't like very much
ThorneScratch: Does Reno even merit a Christmas gift? He beats up someone else and steals theirs.
twigcollins: He eats all the chocolate out of the advent calendar on November 28.
ThorneScratch: He and Zack, surrounded by a pile of empty calendars, and possibly a heap of foil wrappers from those little chocolate bottles with the liquor inside.
ThorneScratch: Cloud: That calendar was mine!
ThorneScratch: Zack: Ooogh.
twigcollins: Cloud: That wasn't an advent calendar, that was a box of flavored condoms.
twigcollins: Zack: I thought they were chewy.
***
ThorneScratch: You know, I wonder if it ever bothered Seph for, like, even a few seconds that Cloud was fourteen.
twigcollins: Doubt it.
ThorneScratch: Yeah. Catt says his shoulder angel and his shoulder devil said the exact same thing.
ThorneScratch: "DOOO IIIIITTT."
twigcollins: They're both tiny One Winged Angels. "Dooooooooo it!"
twigcollins: Tiny Shoulder Zack: I like pie.
twigcollins: Shoulder Seph: …?
twigcollins: Shoulder Zack: I was bored.
ThorneScratch: Zack has a shoulder devil and angel. The angel is Cloud, and the devil is Reno. The angel spends a lot of time having to whack the devil with his harp for inappropriate touching.
twigcollins: And the devil spends his time... yeah. The angel used to wear a toga but that was an indefensible position. The devil acquires small firearms from the Shoulder Zack devil, who gets his money selling snappy threads to the Shoulder Zack angel.
twigcollins: "Pinstripes for the wiiiings, aiight!"
ThorneScratch: Bling, baby. Pimp your shoulder angel out.
twigcollins: Trick your conscience.
***
twigcollins: Zack would try to use a materia on the cactuar and totally destroy Cloud's closet. Or try to send another monster in after it.
ThorneScratch: He so would.
ThorneScratch: "I'll just get something bigger to eat it."
ThorneScratch: Cloud: NO NO NO. BAD IDEA.
ThorneScratch: "What could go wrong?"
twigcollins: Cloud: That's not rhetorical is it? You're actually asking.
ThorneScratch: Zack: It's okay, I got a board with a nail in it in case we need it. We're covered.
twigcollins: Ultimate strategic defense. If it's really bad, he'll add a nail. Or some tape around the grip. Two nails. Two.
ThorneScratch: Cloud: …
ThorneScratch: Cloud: *jabs frantically at his Sephiroth-summoning watch*
ThorneScratch: You know, it used to be that Sephiroth and Cloud owned "Barely Legal" in my head. Then, I loaned it to some swimmers. And now, I think I might have to lend it to KH2 Seifer and Squall. Although I'm sure Sephiroth will do something illegal to Cloud soon and earn it back.
twigcollins: Seph: I borrowed this.
twigcollins: Zack: …!?
twigcollins: Seph: I washed it off.
ThorneScratch: Cloud: Um, hi.
twigcollins: Cloud: ...guh.
twigcollins: Zack: This isn't like borrowing a HAMMER, Seph.
ThorneScratch: Seph: Filled it up again, too.
twigcollins: Gets excellent mileage. Decent trunk space.
ThorneScratch: A few dents and nicks on the paintjob, but really very nice
twigcollins: Little clanking sound under the hood, just needs some TLC. Seph can work on it on weekends. It's his fixer-upper.
ThorneScratch: He works on it shirtless, gets lube everywhere.
twigcollins: Spends hours under that thing, but it purrs like a kitten when he's done.
ThorneScratch: Pokes various bits, just to see what happens.
twigcollins: Rotating tires.
***
ThorneScratch: Seifer in KH2. He is a tiny Eminem. I can only imagine how this is going to fuxx0r up the Seifer/Squall fans, which makes me laugh, actually. Laugh long and hard.
twigcollins:...
twigcollins: WTF IS ON YOUR HEAD BOY.
ThorneScratch: Since he's, like, 12, and Squall is, like, 25.
twigcollins: He looks like a microphone. I hate this game. I really do. I try not to because it's silly.
ThorneScratch: He's got a thug hat! He looks like a gang member of the Young Aryans! And a belly shirt, too. He's been hanging out with Yohji and Irvine.
twigcollins: He still managed to keep his gay vest. Yeah, those sleeves had to go. That's just a little too complicated for our boy.
twigcollins:... *sigh*
ThorneScratch: His chin is still nice. I just told Catt, this is going to way confuse Squall. You think Squall has issues now?
twigcollins: Seifer: You wanna hear my romanti--
twigcollins: Squall: NO THANK YOU NO.
ThorneScratch: Anyway, we can safely conclude Square is smoking the bad crack again.
twigcollins: It's my fault. I should know better than to make him angry. Last time he brought flowers and told me he was really really sorry. Then he gave me FFX-2 and I had to go to the doctor for some cream.
ThorneScratch: I hear they have medicated shampoos for that now. Well, according to Penny Arcade, you better hunker down again because FFXII is gonna hurt.
twigcollins: Yeah, I saw that. The entire thing is like watching a supermodel take a dump. So much beauty being put to no good damn use at all
ThorneScratch: There you go again with the horrifying yet apt similes
***
ThorneScratch: Actually, I've been laughing about the Seifer thing.
SoraNoKumo: Ah, I've seen some of it.
ThorneScratch: He's like, baby Eminem.
SoraNoKumo: I don't really care for KH much anymore.
ThorneScratch: This is going to totally confuse Squall.
ThorneScratch: Squall: I'm not used to being taller than you.
SoraNoKumo: Eh, Seifer will always have a chin that kills. True, true. Squall being older!
ThorneScratch: Yeah, I only want to see Seph and Cloud bits.
SoraNoKumo: Too many reversals. Well. Square's gonna jerk everyone around with it. I don't care for that anymore.
ThorneScratch: I agree. It's just... bizarre. Fuujin and Raijin look cute though, as does Vivi. I am terribly fond of Vivi.
SoraNoKumo: I know. Hmm...
ThorneScratch: His hat looks hungry.
SoraNoKumo: Hee. I'm surprised they haven't mentioned Zidane. He'd fit right in.
ThorneScratch: Totally. He's all naturally tiny. And cheerful.
SoraNoKumo: And he has a tail!
ThorneScratch: Zidane wasn't your regular angsty hero. He and Tidus.
SoraNoKumo: Well, until that one little bit where he went uber-angsty. But that was Garland's fault. Yes.
ThorneScratch: Yeah. But for the most part, he seemed pretty laidback. Someone's got to give Square a good whack upside the head.
SoraNoKumo: The only thing they'll listen to anymore is cash. People will have to stop buying their games, and that won't happen. that or some other company will actually have to put out something that stands against their RPGs.
ThorneScratch: Yeah. Le sigh.
Tomorrow, I will talk about things that are not Final Fantasy. (Also, I will talk about Final Fantasy. But I will also talk about things that aren't Final Fantasy. Like cookies, pandas, musical sandwiches, and the problems with American history courses. And possibly, Australian politics. By which I mean, you're just going to get another dump of conversation tomorrow.
You know, I had to go over to my aunt's home to help her move a Christmas tree. Apparently, she had it delivered to her home via helpful young Boy Scouts, couldn't get it into the house on her own, and was afraid someone would steal it. I think the first thing that crossed my mind is you have to be a pretty terrible person to steal Christmas trees. I mean, that's up there with shooting puppies with glocks, or eating baby pandas.
But we eventually got it maneuvered onto her screened-in porch and leaned it against the glass door that leads inside her house. For the rest of the afternoon, I would look over at the door and be startled, because with the tree situated like that, it looked as though the tree desperately wanted to get inside her house. Lord knows what it would have done then. Probably recognized its uncle in the grain of the coffee table and started a bloody revolution, and the floorboards would run red with sap.
"I'm blackmailing you into having sex with me," Reno informed him one day, showing up out of the blue while Cloud was on a delivery route to Kalm.
"What are you blackmailing me about?" he asked.
"I hadn't actually thought that far," Reno admitted, and disappeared again.
***
"Reno's blackmailing me for sex," he told Tifa when he got back to Midgar.
"What about?" she asked, not looking up from washing the dishes.
"I'm not really sure," he admitted. "I don't think he knows yet either."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure about that either." He lifted up the cover to the pot cooking on the back of the stove, inhaling the warm smell of garlic and trying to lift a piece of chicken out without burning his fingers.
"Well, it is Reno," she said, as though that explained everything. "Hands. Hands!"
It really did sort of explain it, Cloud thought as he went meekly to go wash his hands before getting something to eat.
***
"Don't forget about the blackmailing you thing," Reno reminded him in Junon, two weeks later.
"Nnn," he said first, because sometimes the best way of dealing with Reno was to have a large supply of noncommittal grunts and to simply to pretend he was a particularly loud, alcoholic, and (depending on how much alcohol) ambulatory piece of furniture, but Reno seemed so expectant that he gave up. "I haven't."
"For sex."
"For sex, yeah."
"Good."
He waited a bit. Reno didn't seem inclined to say anything else.
"Part of blackmailing someone usually involves having something to blackmail someone about," he offered.
"I know that," Reno said. "What, you think I've never done this before?"
"Just checking," Cloud said, swung one leg over his motorcycle, and drove off.
***
"Is Reno still blackmailing you for sex?" Tifa asked him while she was helping him load the next Corel delivery onto the back of his motorcycle at the door of the bar.
He thought it over. "Sort of?"
"Oh," Tifa said. She picked up the last box and handed it to him. The word "FRAGILE" was scrawled all over it, and it clinked ominously, like glass. It sounded like a chandelier. He wondered who in Corel would ever need a chandelier. "Do you want me to, you know, beat him?"
"No. No, that's all right," Cloud said.
"Mm," she said. "I think that's everything."
There were a few seconds of silence, time to adjust his gloves and sunglasses, give everything a test-shove to see if it would hold. The sounds of Marlene and Denzel playing some game that involving galloping across the room upstairs filtered through the ceiling, and if he looked up he could actually see little puffs of dust coming from the between the cracks in the ceiling, golden motes just floating in the weak morning sunlight. They were actually sort of pretty to watch. Relaxing, even.
"He just seems to like reminding me about it. I don't really have to actually do anything," he finally said. "I don't think."
She nodded, and seemed to be paying particular attention to the knots that roped the boxes down.
"There. All secure. And I made you a lunch," she said finally. "Don't forget about it again and leave it at the bottom of your bag for a month until you have to find it by the smell."
"Thanks," he said, and he knew that she knew what he meant.
***
"I'm--"
"Blackmailing me for sex, I know." Cloud gave Reeve the computer disks and the box of scavenged electronics. "Here, I hope these still work."
"I'll figure something out," Reeve said, smiling gratefully. "I'm thinking of making a new form of transport for Cait. Something a little more multi-terrain, you know. And waterproof."
"Good luck," Cloud said. He looked around. "Rufus around somewhere?"
"He's in the back with Tseng and Elena, going over something. Has to do with the sewers, I think. There's some concern about one of the old ducts contaminating the new water supply."
"Yo, blackmailing here?" Reno said crossly, and tapped his nightstick against the desk for emphasis.
"You're not," Cloud said, "because you still haven't said what you're blackmailing me about, and you haven't given me a reason why, either of which you need to blackmail. Officially, I mean." He wondered if it was at all a good idea to explain any of that to Reno, but it really hadn't seemed to make much difference so far.
"He's right, you know," Reeve added, not looking up from where he was already picking through the electronics. "You need motive and material. I mean, the keystone thing, I laid it out for him like that and it worked pretty well. Are there any 6-B copper cables in here?"
"Go fuck a mog, Reeve," Reno said, and poked Cloud's arm with his nightstick. "So, right now good for you? There's a closet across the hall if you don't wanna do it in front of toy-boy there. I think it even has carpet."
"You're not listening," Cloud said. "You can't blackmail me."
"Look, Strife," Reno said in a more reasonable tone than anyone tended to hear from Reno, ever. "How many people have you blackmailed into sex lately? I don't think you're any expert on the subject."
"I am."
"Shut up, Reeve."
"Look." He resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall, even though the building was already quite beaten up and Rufus probably wouldn't notice a few more dents and cracks. "Just. I'm not even going to. You know what, never mind."
"Because," Reno said, as though he'd actually asked the question. He smacked his nightstick against his palm one more time, stroked it in a way that was more than a little disturbing, glared, and walked out of the room as though he was the one who was being put-upon.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
"It's nice to have a hobby," Reeve finally said, brightly.
***
"Does he ever--" he asked Rude.
"No."
"Is there any way to--"
"No."
"Well, what do you--"
"Partially deaf in my left ear. I always make sure he's standing on that side."
Rude was no help at all, and Cloud figured he would start hating all Turks on principle again.
It didn't help much, but it was pretty good for the vindictive twenty minutes it took him to deliberately eat nearly all of the homemade cookies Tifa had put in the bottom of his satchel. Rude looked on wistfully, and Cloud felt slightly bad, but he ignored it as long as he could before he gave in and let Rude have some of the broken ones.
"Sometimes I just hit him," Rude added.
No help at all.
***
He didn't meet anyone at all in Rocket Town who wanted to blackmail him for anything, or cared if he were being blackmailed. It was very restful and he resolved to come back soon.
***
Yeah. Anyway. Can anyone point me to a tutorial, preferably for Paint Shop Pro, on making those nifty iPod livejournal icons of your favorite characters? Or at least give me a vague idea of how to work it out? My problem is, all I find are explanations for Photoshop. Would be deeply appreciated.
twigcollins: Okay. Cloud comes back from training and walks in his room. Zack is standing on his bed with a saucepan and a ladle, wielding it like a gladiator.
twigcollins: Cloud: ...
twigcollins: *potapotapotapotapota*
twigcollins: Cloud: OW SHIT!
twigcollins: Cactaur: *darts into closet*
twigcollins: Zack: Get it get it get it!
ThorneScratch: Oh God.
twigcollins: Zack: They're for Thanksgiving. You hollow them out and fill them with hamburger meat and chili seasoning.
twigcollins: Cloud: That is the most horrible thing you've ever said, ever.
ThorneScratch: Oh God. I love Zack.
twigcollins: So, yeah. Eventually Seph walks in to find Cloud and Zack both on his bed, Cloud covered in needles, a fine coat of needles on the floor, and Zack wielding an ice materia and shooting randomly under the bed while Cloud gives vague directions and mostly tries not to get shot anymore.
ThorneScratch: What does Seph do when he sees them?
twigcollins: Turns around and walks out.
ThorneScratch: He would.
twigcollins: Probably steps on the cactuar or something.
twigcollins: Zack: We can't eat it now! Well, maybe gumbo.
ThorneScratch: Boot-cactuar, rated slightly below boot-crab.
twigcollins: Tenderized. I don't think anyone but Zack can actually eat stuffed cactaur, as it probably dies wearing the shocked face.
Zack: Put a napkin over it.
Cloud: I feel ill.
Seph: I just don't trust anything you've touched.
ThorneScratch: Thanksgiving dinner with Zack, Cloud, and Seph. An epic adventure. Zack insists he can cook everything. By which he means, Cloud will cook everything. Cloud gets super-nervous at the thought Sephiroth will be eating his food, and twitches for days when anyone says the word "Thanksgiving". Eventually, it gets so bad that he twitches whenever he hears anything beginning with the letter "t".
ThorneScratch: And then, Zack forgets to thaw the bird and tries to use a fire materia on it.
twigcollins: God, he would.
ThorneScratch: Seph eventually just shows up. He doesn't even bother to walk fully into the apartment. He can't because of all the smoke. And he pulls them both out to go to the catered dinner he's already arranged beforehand, knowing full well that this is going to happen. Like it does every year.
twigcollins: And this twenty five pound half-frozen turkey on fire will go shooting out the window right into the Turks quarters.
twigcollins: Reno: Woo! Dinner's on!
ThorneScratch: Reno: Hey, window turkey! Score!
twigcollins: 'Tis the season for 'found' meat. I'm not going to eat any found cake.
twigcollins: "Now the thing about cactuars--"
twigcollins: *lifts lid*
twigcollins: *potapotapotapota*
twigcollins: Zack *slams lid*
twigcollins: "You try to make sure they're dead first. Hand me that brick."
twigcollins: Cloud: Trauma.
twigcollins: The thing is, because cactuars live in the desert, you can't just shove the pan in the oven, crank it, and wait. They don't die.
twigcollins: Zack: *lifts lid*
twigcollins: *potapotapotapota*
twigcollins: Zack: Maybe I can drown it in barbecue sauce.
twigcollins: Cloud will be finding it for weeks.
ThorneScratch: Streaking through the house and ambushing them from strange places. I suggest boiling. Water's got to do something to it.
twigcollins: Will it scream like a lobster?
ThorneScratch: Yes.
twigcollins: Cloud: Trauma!
ThorneScratch: With the little shocked face, totally. They'll have a glass lid for the pot so Zack can see it through the lid and watch it all happening. You get the full hi-def experience.
twigcollins: Oh God.
twigcollins: Zack: The face is the tender part.
twigcollins: Cloud: TRAUMA!
ThorneScratch: Zack: The fear releases endorphins that tenderizes the meat.
twigcollins: Zack: Also, I use Cajun spices. Just like momma used back on the bayou.
twigcollins: He didn't even know what he was eating back then. It was just 'meat'.
ThorneScratch: 'Found meat.' Fortunately for Cloud, half of Zack's found meat is 'found' in Seph's fridge. And by 'found' he means 'stolen'.
***
twigcollins: Another Sephiroth moment. "You pierced what? You pierced Cloud's what?"
ThorneScratch: "Did you knock him unconscious or something?"
twigcollins: Zack and the night of self-piercings.
"That's not a piercing gun, that's a nail gun."
ThorneScratch: "So? I got an ice materia and some paper towels. We'll be fine."
twigcollins: Cloud: Call the police
ThorneScratch: You know what he needs? Like, remember when Superman gave Jimmy a special watch that could signal Superman whenever Jimmy needed help? Sephiroth needs to give Cloud one of those for Zack-related emergencies
twigcollins: Yes. It would play 'It's Raining Men'
twigcollins: Rufus: Is that 'It's Raining Men'?
twigcollins: Seph: Shut up, gaylord.
ThorneScratch: Rufus has no room to talk, yeah. The white pimp suit and black shoes says it all.
twigcollins: I like villains in white.
***
ThorneScratch: Where did Zack get the cactuars, anyway? Reno?
twigcollins: Either that or special order. 'Reno knows a guy.' It's like Harry and David's with the fruit of the month club. One month - cactaurs. Rufus would get it as a Christmas gift for employees he didn't like very much
ThorneScratch: Does Reno even merit a Christmas gift? He beats up someone else and steals theirs.
twigcollins: He eats all the chocolate out of the advent calendar on November 28.
ThorneScratch: He and Zack, surrounded by a pile of empty calendars, and possibly a heap of foil wrappers from those little chocolate bottles with the liquor inside.
ThorneScratch: Cloud: That calendar was mine!
ThorneScratch: Zack: Ooogh.
twigcollins: Cloud: That wasn't an advent calendar, that was a box of flavored condoms.
twigcollins: Zack: I thought they were chewy.
***
ThorneScratch: You know, I wonder if it ever bothered Seph for, like, even a few seconds that Cloud was fourteen.
twigcollins: Doubt it.
ThorneScratch: Yeah. Catt says his shoulder angel and his shoulder devil said the exact same thing.
ThorneScratch: "DOOO IIIIITTT."
twigcollins: They're both tiny One Winged Angels. "Dooooooooo it!"
twigcollins: Tiny Shoulder Zack: I like pie.
twigcollins: Shoulder Seph: …?
twigcollins: Shoulder Zack: I was bored.
ThorneScratch: Zack has a shoulder devil and angel. The angel is Cloud, and the devil is Reno. The angel spends a lot of time having to whack the devil with his harp for inappropriate touching.
twigcollins: And the devil spends his time... yeah. The angel used to wear a toga but that was an indefensible position. The devil acquires small firearms from the Shoulder Zack devil, who gets his money selling snappy threads to the Shoulder Zack angel.
twigcollins: "Pinstripes for the wiiiings, aiight!"
ThorneScratch: Bling, baby. Pimp your shoulder angel out.
twigcollins: Trick your conscience.
***
twigcollins: Zack would try to use a materia on the cactuar and totally destroy Cloud's closet. Or try to send another monster in after it.
ThorneScratch: He so would.
ThorneScratch: "I'll just get something bigger to eat it."
ThorneScratch: Cloud: NO NO NO. BAD IDEA.
ThorneScratch: "What could go wrong?"
twigcollins: Cloud: That's not rhetorical is it? You're actually asking.
ThorneScratch: Zack: It's okay, I got a board with a nail in it in case we need it. We're covered.
twigcollins: Ultimate strategic defense. If it's really bad, he'll add a nail. Or some tape around the grip. Two nails. Two.
ThorneScratch: Cloud: …
ThorneScratch: Cloud: *jabs frantically at his Sephiroth-summoning watch*
ThorneScratch: You know, it used to be that Sephiroth and Cloud owned "Barely Legal" in my head. Then, I loaned it to some swimmers. And now, I think I might have to lend it to KH2 Seifer and Squall. Although I'm sure Sephiroth will do something illegal to Cloud soon and earn it back.
twigcollins: Seph: I borrowed this.
twigcollins: Zack: …!?
twigcollins: Seph: I washed it off.
ThorneScratch: Cloud: Um, hi.
twigcollins: Cloud: ...guh.
twigcollins: Zack: This isn't like borrowing a HAMMER, Seph.
ThorneScratch: Seph: Filled it up again, too.
twigcollins: Gets excellent mileage. Decent trunk space.
ThorneScratch: A few dents and nicks on the paintjob, but really very nice
twigcollins: Little clanking sound under the hood, just needs some TLC. Seph can work on it on weekends. It's his fixer-upper.
ThorneScratch: He works on it shirtless, gets lube everywhere.
twigcollins: Spends hours under that thing, but it purrs like a kitten when he's done.
ThorneScratch: Pokes various bits, just to see what happens.
twigcollins: Rotating tires.
***
ThorneScratch: Seifer in KH2. He is a tiny Eminem. I can only imagine how this is going to fuxx0r up the Seifer/Squall fans, which makes me laugh, actually. Laugh long and hard.
twigcollins:...
twigcollins: WTF IS ON YOUR HEAD BOY.
ThorneScratch: Since he's, like, 12, and Squall is, like, 25.
twigcollins: He looks like a microphone. I hate this game. I really do. I try not to because it's silly.
ThorneScratch: He's got a thug hat! He looks like a gang member of the Young Aryans! And a belly shirt, too. He's been hanging out with Yohji and Irvine.
twigcollins: He still managed to keep his gay vest. Yeah, those sleeves had to go. That's just a little too complicated for our boy.
twigcollins:... *sigh*
ThorneScratch: His chin is still nice. I just told Catt, this is going to way confuse Squall. You think Squall has issues now?
twigcollins: Seifer: You wanna hear my romanti--
twigcollins: Squall: NO THANK YOU NO.
ThorneScratch: Anyway, we can safely conclude Square is smoking the bad crack again.
twigcollins: It's my fault. I should know better than to make him angry. Last time he brought flowers and told me he was really really sorry. Then he gave me FFX-2 and I had to go to the doctor for some cream.
ThorneScratch: I hear they have medicated shampoos for that now. Well, according to Penny Arcade, you better hunker down again because FFXII is gonna hurt.
twigcollins: Yeah, I saw that. The entire thing is like watching a supermodel take a dump. So much beauty being put to no good damn use at all
ThorneScratch: There you go again with the horrifying yet apt similes
***
ThorneScratch: Actually, I've been laughing about the Seifer thing.
SoraNoKumo: Ah, I've seen some of it.
ThorneScratch: He's like, baby Eminem.
SoraNoKumo: I don't really care for KH much anymore.
ThorneScratch: This is going to totally confuse Squall.
ThorneScratch: Squall: I'm not used to being taller than you.
SoraNoKumo: Eh, Seifer will always have a chin that kills. True, true. Squall being older!
ThorneScratch: Yeah, I only want to see Seph and Cloud bits.
SoraNoKumo: Too many reversals. Well. Square's gonna jerk everyone around with it. I don't care for that anymore.
ThorneScratch: I agree. It's just... bizarre. Fuujin and Raijin look cute though, as does Vivi. I am terribly fond of Vivi.
SoraNoKumo: I know. Hmm...
ThorneScratch: His hat looks hungry.
SoraNoKumo: Hee. I'm surprised they haven't mentioned Zidane. He'd fit right in.
ThorneScratch: Totally. He's all naturally tiny. And cheerful.
SoraNoKumo: And he has a tail!
ThorneScratch: Zidane wasn't your regular angsty hero. He and Tidus.
SoraNoKumo: Well, until that one little bit where he went uber-angsty. But that was Garland's fault. Yes.
ThorneScratch: Yeah. But for the most part, he seemed pretty laidback. Someone's got to give Square a good whack upside the head.
SoraNoKumo: The only thing they'll listen to anymore is cash. People will have to stop buying their games, and that won't happen. that or some other company will actually have to put out something that stands against their RPGs.
ThorneScratch: Yeah. Le sigh.
Tomorrow, I will talk about things that are not Final Fantasy. (Also, I will talk about Final Fantasy. But I will also talk about things that aren't Final Fantasy. Like cookies, pandas, musical sandwiches, and the problems with American history courses. And possibly, Australian politics. By which I mean, you're just going to get another dump of conversation tomorrow.
You know, I had to go over to my aunt's home to help her move a Christmas tree. Apparently, she had it delivered to her home via helpful young Boy Scouts, couldn't get it into the house on her own, and was afraid someone would steal it. I think the first thing that crossed my mind is you have to be a pretty terrible person to steal Christmas trees. I mean, that's up there with shooting puppies with glocks, or eating baby pandas.
But we eventually got it maneuvered onto her screened-in porch and leaned it against the glass door that leads inside her house. For the rest of the afternoon, I would look over at the door and be startled, because with the tree situated like that, it looked as though the tree desperately wanted to get inside her house. Lord knows what it would have done then. Probably recognized its uncle in the grain of the coffee table and started a bloody revolution, and the floorboards would run red with sap.