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pierian springs
h.p. lovecraft |
bram stoker |
james thurber |
gertrude stein |
emily post |
lineage
barty crouch jr. |
cxxiv
vibia sabina |
( psl and retired characters )
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| just one of god's stolen children most of the time |
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pierian springs lineage cxxiv ( psl and retired characters )
Some of the awards I've collected over the year(s). Mostly this is just for me and my ego, but if you're really interested, go ahead and have a look after the cut.
Who: Bram Stoker
First person sample for I was late getting in last night. Job had gone wrong, just a little. The safe door had automatic hinges -- security devices I didn't realize. The door swung closed on me while I was raiding through deposit boxes. I had a handful of pearls in one hand and a perfect diamond ring in the other, when next thing I know, there's this terrible clang. I look up? I'm sealed in. Took the rest of my incompetent team another thirty minutes to realize I was suck, and then twenty trying to get me out. Had to blast their way through. Have you ever been on the wrong end of a sonic shock? It's not fucking fun, let me tell you. I was cut up pretty bad, we cut the job short and I got out of my costume and home in bed fast as I could.
one; Poppy smells of poppies as a child, of the bright red flower patch in the garden, his mother's favorites. Before his siblings are born, when Poppy is the Baby, the Only Baby and loved that way, he likes to lay in the poppies, flattened down until he's almost invisible, surrounded by all that red. He presses his nose to the earth and smells the poppies, their flowery, coppery, sour metal scent. It's so strong, his stomach churns. When Poppy is twelve, he gets sent home early from school and sees Mommy cutting up something dark and furred with a garden spade. Poppies fall from the puppy's body, down into the earth he likes to lay in. The next day in class, when Poppy tries to explain what he saw to the teacher, he learns that blood is what the rest of the world calls poppies. two; Stephanie is born and hates the world, the cold bright painful world she was exorcised into along with blood spilling from elevator doors, except for the elevator doors are really her mother's legs and the blood is really blood. Stephanie is six and hates the world, the unfair confusing too tall world she's just getting used to, where Mommy picks at the scabs on her knees until they scar even though she told Mommy not to do that, because even at just six, Stephanie knows better. Stephanie is fourteen and hates the world, the stupid stupid fuck stupid world that hates her right back because her Daddy gets high at parent-teacher conferences and her Mommy squeezes his hand and asks all the wrong questions and Poppy kisses Andy Rice on the basketball courts and Bret and Charlotte hold hands underneath the lunch table and the whole stupid family never wears the right clothes. Stephanie is sixteen and hates the world, yes that means you Tony Burgess because she does not like things she can't understand including Russian although she checked out the translation dictionary from the library last week now if only she could get him to talk slower so she could understand and be part of something for once. three; Charlotte nearly fails health when she can't find her pulse. She's in eighth grade and it's the final exam, hold two fingers to your neck and count the beats. Charlotte can't feel anything except how cold her skin is from being in the desk directly underneath the air conditioning vent. At home, Mommy and Daddy keep the house stifling, sticky sweet warm like baked bread and mold. It's too cold here. In the blank she's supposed to put her answer in, Charlotte writes living's just another word for dying and other universal truths. Even after the test is turned in, her fingers stay at her neck, pressing further into her throat as she tries to find her pulse. She still can't. Outside, after school, as Charlotte walks home and pulls faces at the high school boys who watch her, they catch up with her and push her hard against the brick behind the convenience store. She can see barbed wire and the electric box and concrete and her own blood and their faces all made into one awful face and she can feel her heart in her throat. four; It's like this -- when Bret needs a friend, he goes to Charlotte. When he needs a partner in crime, he goes to Charlotte. When he needs a punching bag or a sordid conversation or a decent piece of silence or someone to hit him and tell him to shut the fuck up. He goes to Charlotte. They tell people they're twins even though they're not, and they tell people they're going to get married even though they're not (says Charlotte). So it makes sense that after a while, when Bret needs to get kissed, he goes to Charlotte. She's his first kiss but they don't tell people that. They don't even tell each other everything. For example, Bret would never ever tell Charlotte that she tastes like blood in a way no one else does. five; Cordelia has her mother's eyes and her father's stare. Her mother's sob and her father's internal rage. Cordelia could kill someone if she found the inclination, and stopped thinking that someone was going to kill her first. On her fifth birthday, Mommy and Daddy give Cordelia a scrapbook. She throws away the ribbons and laces and fancy patterned paper, but fills up the kitten-covered book with conspiracy theory blog posts and internet terrorism evidence. In the margins on the plain white paper, Cordelia writes down numbers that make sense only to her, in an ink that starts red and then dries brown. One day the scrapbook disappears, and when the family asks about it, Cordelia draws them a picture of a mushroom cloud on the walls. |
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