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AGWL V - January Monthly

Poll Pimps = TEH SEX 0.2 20.0% [ 1 ]
Anything Goes! 0.6 60.0% [ 3 ]
Due Jan 31 0.2 20.0% [ 1 ]
Wootles! 0 0.0% [ 0 ]
Woot panda! 0 0.0% [ 0 ]
Total Votes:[ 5 ]
FrostedMidnight's avatar

Dangerous Darling

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Yeah, I love the cold too, but I love it best when I can snuggle under a blanket, I don't actually want to be out in the elements for extended periods of time.

Puppies are good, destruction, not so much.

Side note, YU, I love your avi, its so cute!
Yutora's avatar

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Haha, and have tea or hot chocolate! You can't forget those.

I want another dog! My puppy is no longer a puppy and I love him very much and
but I Want more dogs! However, he's super jealous and spoiled and he doesn't
ever want to share his love, which is why I'll just have to keep pestering him with my love.

Thanks! I love it too ;o; But I want to change, but it's sooooo pretty.



ALSO! This is the thing I was going to send in last month. So, have my entry (I'm like 100% sure I sent an entry once with this same character, which makes me mad because I can never tell his god damn story in anything other than snippets and I love him so much he deserves better):

i'll become atlas—because that's all I can do for you.

We’re in the library again; it’s closed and I’m still not sure how he’s gotten a hold of the keys, but I don’t care either way because this is the only way I get to see him nowadays.

His head is on the table and he’s staring out at the sky while I watch the nape of his neck, joining him in that uncomfortably slouched position. Every time I reach out, letting my hand hover above his head, all I can think about are the words that defined our beginning, spoken in a whisper during biology—the wrong answer to my question of what he wrote down on page two—he told me, “let’s start simple, honest, down to the bone true to what we both want and know and—”

“I don’t mind being like this,” he says.

No, you don’t, I do not tell him. I put my hand back under the table instead.

I know what he’s thinking about: birds and air and wind and his body, all as one. He is counting the days until he decides he’s done. He is pretending that the world outside that window is merely an illusion and that we are isolated here in this place, untouched by the words of others but his words, they bribe me into submission, into sitting like this for hours on end, waiting for daylight to see if we can make it that far this time, too. And, somedays, I doubt we will.

I think of him so much that it’s we instead of he.

“Wanna hold a contest? We’ll hold our breaths, set a new world record,” he jokes.

But it’s not funny; it never is.

I don’t know what I’ve done or what has happened but I haven’t seen him in over three years and now we’re here and he speaks like a stranger, like he’s listing off causalities with his tongue smacking against his teeth, spouting things like “let’s find out what a heart really looks like” and “have you ever tasted blood” and—

I feel like crying.

Where’s the guy that ended his sentences with rose petals?

“Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay,” he goes on.

That isn’t my name. It’s not anyone’s name.

He just does this.

He randomly chooses a letter and repeats it if he feels like he’s losing me, which he has ages ago. We do not speak the same language anymore. But it grabs my attention anyway and I go “yes?” like he’s actually calling for me and it makes me feel like I’m the alphabet to him, something he’s been stuck with since childhood, something familiar he’s clinging to.

“We can begin anew, ok?”

We can’t.

I never tell him that, though. But we can’t because I don’t even know what’s wrong. I just know this is what we do ever since I ran into him again three months ago, after he suddenly disappeared and decided it wasn’t wise to contact me in years.

I remember that day so clearly because I slapped him and cried while he just stood there hurt.

“We’ll take a different route,” he goes on.

And I ask him, “Which one this time?” as though we’ve ever even travelled one together.

“We’ll dive this time.”

“Okay.”

“Take a deep breath and let’s go under.”

I take a breath.

I play his game because if this is what it takes for him to feel better then I will do this as often as I possibly can. But Victor, he does not take a breath.

Instead, he starts chanting, “Dive and dive and dive and—we’ll drown.”

And I do not know what prompts me to reach out again, to let my fingers drop into his hair this time, curling around the dark strands like they are some sort of rope I can hold on to, but it happens and then I’m exhaling, nearly shouting, “Don’t sink.”

And I realise he’s too slow to stay alive. For some reason he’s literally drowning in himself.

The lies he’s been spewing smell like the shirt he never seems to change but, god, Victor, keep singing them to me anyway; I’ll bottle that scent and sell it to misunderstood poets spitting agonising limericks and romanticising sadness because you’re making my heart heavy and there’s this gut wrenching feeling that won’t go away and it's exactly like those shitty things they speak of.

“Victor,” I murmur his name into the nape of his neck. “Tell me again how bones feel against your fingertips,” I tell him because I can’t recall the metaphor he used and I’m curious as to how many people broke him open for him to figure that one out. “Go on, tell me.”

But he does not.

He stays silent and I think it’s the silence that’s the hardest thing to bear.

“Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay,” he says through gritted teeth, lifting one of his hands to place it above my own, which is still in his hair because I am afraid to let go. “Let’s stoop low.” His fingernails bite into my skin when he pulls at my arm, and I start to straighten up with him.

“Rewind rewind rewind,” he sings. “Right? right?” he questions me.

And I can’t help but try and free my hand, but he does not let go.

His grip tightens. I can feel my knuckles rub against each other.

“Victor,” I say his name again.

He holds his breath for a moment, and everything about him stills.

The look in his eyes goes blank, cold, like he’s not completely here with me anymore and I wonder how quickly someone can break a person, how long it would be before they completely fall apart right in front of you. I wonder what it took for him to lose his laugh. I wonder how long he’ll keep running down the numbers each day, firing words into space; maybe he’ll shoot a star down one of these days, kill another dream, another breath.

“Pluck flowers, Jay,” he begins, “tear them away from their home and give them to me so they can wilt in the bin next to the sink because that’s just what we do. Destructive little ********, aren’t we?” And while he says this it feels like another one of his nightmares is swelling up in my lungs, and I’ve never even been told any of them, but I know they exist. They’re everywhere on him, and it reeks. “Are you tired just yet?” he asks and looks out the window again.

I place the hand he isn’t holding against his upper arm. “Not yet, Victor.” And that isn’t a lie; I’m really not.

I think he’s a fool if he thinks I would ever become tired of this.

It may be exhausting, but I think it worth it and I’ll give him light-years of distance if that’s what he needs because Victor let the demons in his head become his friends because that’s what they call empathy, so he believes, but apathy sounds better and—

I’m not sure how to reach him otherwise.
I finally listened to VoC's recording. razz She said I have been getting soft, which means this month... it's time for some s**t from me. razz
Yutora's avatar

Gracious Stalker

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voc...oh god. i had to pause to laugh. not a very nice joke, made me feel bad laughing.

lol


you guys scare me, though.
phantomkitsune's avatar

Dangerous Enabler

No one is scary, though!
Yutora's avatar

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But you are because you're all so damn brilliant.
TheVoiceOfCreation's avatar

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Wing McCallister
I finally listened to VoC's recording. razz She said I have been getting soft, which means this month... it's time for some s**t from me. razz


I call it like it is. <3

You don't nag anyone half as bad as you used to nag me! lol
I STILL hear your Wing voice in my head every time I do/write something you'd hate. -__-

Yutora
voc...oh god. i had to pause to laugh. not a very nice joke, made me feel bad laughing.

lol


you guys scare me, though.


Wait... was this the wing joke or the very distasteful joke i made about the characters in your story? lol wing has had that joke coming for awhile. i think it had more effect given i'm a judge now, so glad i waited until i didn't have to take the heat for it razz muahahahahaha
You're all very welcome.

If you were referring to the character joke, blame yourself for that one. The mood of my jokes is usually dependent on the overall tone of the story. You had quite a twisted little setup there.

Also, refer to my reply to PK and my other reply to you in relation to your fear.

phantomkitsune
No one is scary, though!


No one is scary. We're terrifying! Wing has been cracking knuckles for YEARS now and we have been getting our knuckles cracked for so long that now WE are cracking knuckles. That's ******** scary to anyone.

Not that they NEED to be scared. It's more useful just to have confidence and not write s**t pieces. Course that doesn't mean it's easier. But it's more fun for us now that we get to watch everyone else do the squirming! Again, muahahahahahahaha

Yutora
But you are because you're all so damn brilliant.


<33333333333333333333333333333333

"Brilliance" doesn't need to be intimidating. You've been trying to please Wing for how long now?! He's so set in his ways all you have to do is memorize them. lol And you've written against PK and I enough to know what we might like. You'll get used to our judging styles soon enough. Everyone has their own brilliance about them! Don't let the brilliance of others set you off your own.

Also, I can say I totally love being called brilliant. <333333333333333333
That was my really cocky way of saying "Thanks for the compliment." lol
phantomkitsune's avatar

Dangerous Enabler

Yu: Like, okay, yeah. And thank you. But, as VOC says, everyone has strengths. And I'm not super about cracking knuckles, just improvement. We can all find ways to improve, and we should: stasis is death. So attention and effort are all I really expect from people.

VOC: I think I'm only ever going to be deliberately terrifying to people who backslide.
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phantomkitsune
Yu: Like, okay, yeah. And thank you. But, as VOC says, everyone has strengths. And I'm not super about cracking knuckles, just improvement. We can all find ways to improve, and we should: stasis is death. So attention and effort are all I really expect from people.

VOC: I think I'm only ever going to be deliberately terrifying to people who backslide.


Lol mostly I was joking, PK.
Mostly.

I can be rather critical and I'm a very blunt person, but I don't think I'm scary when I do it. And Wing certainly isn't, even when he's at his worst. He can be harsh, but since he does it with Wingvoice, it's rather comical.

I suppose I was just trying to rustle up some effort out of them. I really /was/ unimpressed with the fact that I only got two submissions. Christmas or no. -___-
phantomkitsune's avatar

Dangerous Enabler

I tend to avoid hyperbolic jokes with a grain of truth! Because I hate fun. Also because I want to clarify the degree to which things are true for me, but mostly because I hate fun.

And I still have no entries for my contest. It's rather disappointing.
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phantomkitsune
I tend to avoid hyperbolic jokes with a grain of truth! Because I hate fun. Also because I want to clarify the degree to which things are true for me, but mostly because I hate fun.

And I still have no entries for my contest. It's rather disappointing.


Maybe you made it too hard. They're all scared of your prowess. Mrawr!
Parentheses suck! Remember that!
FrostedMidnight's avatar

Dangerous Darling

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Those Who Backslide

The slope is slippery;

Fingers clench and dig in--
Feel the pressure—

Fall.

Slide down with the dirty remnants of the peeks to which you've been.

Smear the paper with the muddy pieces, climb the slope again, Sisyphus--
maybe this time you will crest your mountain--

Or maybe the rock will run you over--
But
Nothing gets better in the valley.

Take a deep breath.

Climb again.

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