HEAD s-s-shot
HEAD s-s-shot
HEAD s-s-shot
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HEAD s-s-shot
782 words
I wanna live fast and die old<<<
Samantha calmly slid out of her large bed and onto her small feet. Walking on her toes Sam slipped through the wide white and dark purple corridor and into her walk in closet. Going into the darkest area of her closet she picked a pair of ugly, worn out sweat pants and a simple white tee, a sports bra, and only of her boyshorts and skipped into her bathroom. Lightly clicking the iPod that lay on a dock it turned on and started to play Daly's Gone Wrong, filling the whole bathroom. Turning on the shower and stripping naked she walked into the shower, washing her body and hair. Coming out of the bathroom dressed in what she had picked out and hair wet she took her other iPod from the kitchen table slipped on her shoes and a light sweater. She sprinted down the hallway of her apartment and down the stairs, the flew through 11 stories of stairs and out the front doors.
She ran and ran without stopping, even for cars. The sun hadn't even rose yet and she was sprinting through city streets watching as store owners sleepily opened their stores. She quickly scaled block after block. Sweat fell from her face and her hair moved with every move she made. Loosing her breath after a mile of running down the blocks she ran back, the sun just begining to show itself. The sky a burning purple pink mix. Stopping in front of her building she stared up into the sky and sighed, closing her eyes, smiling, and just loving the morning.
Sam ran up 11 floors of stairs to get to her apartment and swung open her unlocked door happily shedding her sweater and iPod, leaving both in front of her front door. Jumping into the shower again she left with newly wet hair and nothing on. She lived in this apartment alone, so there was no point in hiding herself, and even if she did live with someone, she wouldn't bother covering herself. One, she was a model, she wasn't embarrassed about anything physical, Two, she lived there, she had the right to walk around naked if she wanted. She looked through her large closet, starting from her oldest clothing, even from when she had lived with foster parents, and nothing better to do but take pictures of herself with a gift from a one of her earlier foster parents. Picking an outfit she came out of her closet wearing a black dress and high heel shoes. Slipping on her black and white jester hat and grabbing a ni hao kai-lan bag full of her outfits for todays shoot she walked out of her door, iPhone in hand and used the elevators.
Walking into the city seats with a smile she waited for a bus, absolutely hating city parking, and refusing to buy a car, no matter how many people nagged her to buy one. Boarding the bus quietly she headed to the back and found herself a seat. People came and went, without noticing her, until one eight year old girl stared at her wide eyed and pointed. The mother, curios as what her daughter was staring at gasped in awe, not expecting someone of Sammy's status to use public transportation. "Mommy Mommy! I wanna be like Samantha!" the girl shrieked, Sammy painting on a fake smile as she waved a hello at them. "Hey whats your name, Cutie?" Sammy asked the small girl, not wanting to seem mean when all she wanted to do is kick her in the face for calling her Samantha. "My name is Emily!" she small girl said excitedly, tackling Samantha in a hug. Hugging back politely she discretely got the girl to let go of her, the mother taking pictures of them together with her cell phone. Thank fully her stop came and she had to leave. Bidding the pair goodbye and giving the girl an autograph she was on her way to the photo shoot.
Sam walked calmly to the building and let herself in and into the room where she was told that the photo shoot would be. Seeing her manager she talked to him briefly, handing him her bag and iPhone she walked to the photographer, carefully looking him up and down. Lifting her hand in a hello with a smirk on her face she opened her mouth to speak. "Hello, Mister photo guy, I'm Sammy." she said confidently, holding out her hand to shake. She thought he was cute. He could make a model, but he was stuck behind the camera.
>>>but if my heart stops beating I still got soul!
This feels so good.
&#xu2;665Sam the man.
HEAD s-s-shot
851 words
“ Sanity... ”-A mountain of thick, light grey sheet rose and collapsed gently as a tall dark male breathed slowly. Hazel eyes scanned a room covered in stolen property. Glued to the white wall above the bed was a large T-mobile advertisement covered in graffiti from everything to dates to gang signs, if found, a 200 dollar fine. In place of a bureau to match his cherry wood bed frame, he had a tool box with many drawers, covered in stickers, car paint, and graffiti, stolen from a small auto-shop with a lot of business. In a corner where most people would put a coat hanger, a school locker sat, again, covered in graffiti, he had gotten it back when he lived in the city, and it was easier to steal from the school. Instead of a regular wooden door, like most people had, he had a curtain and a train door, the window sprayed black, as not to let anyone peek into his room. How he managed to steal it from the train and not get caught or killed, he didn't know, but it was his now. The last wall was mostly covered in mirrors, 4 NYC bus seats lying at the bottom of the wall, and everywhere else covered in his own graffiti, versus the work of others, rarely could you see even a spec of white on this wall.
-With a sigh the mountain of grey blanket was tossed to the end of the bed, revealing a large dark skinned male with pale palms, and tight curls on his head. Those large pale palms pushed on the matress covered in white sheets as the male, Ryu, as most called him, lifted his torso upright and spun, so his feet touched the ground. With a groan he supported himself on his feet and lifted the subway car door and placed it to the side of the locker. Letting himself out of his room he started his long hike to the bathroom. There were so many rooms in this large house, but only 2 bathrooms, one being in his fathers room, the other in the basement. Sure he was allowed to use his fathers bathroom,but he didn't feel like walking through his room akwardly to get to the bathroom. He usually didn't communicate until after at least one puff, today wouldn't be an exception. Descending down the 3 flights of stairs he walked into the bathroom, peed, brushed his teeth, took a shower, and somewhat styled his hair. Climbing back up to the second floor he slipped back into his room and dressed himself in his usual style of clothing and took a glance at his mirror covered wall. He didn't look his best, but he didn't look bad at all, agreeing that he looked fine he headed out,replacing the subway door behind him.
-Heading to the first floor he walked through a maze of corridors before he found a door covered in locks. Pulling keys from his back pocket he unlocked all four locks, one by one, until with a hard push it jerked open, revealing shelves and shelves of various drugs. Walking to the right where the weed was, he searched the neatly labeled shelves for white widow and regular green. Taking tiny bags of each he slipped them into his school bag and headed to the door again. Flipping through a notebook that hung by a string from the door he wrote his name an what he took. A simply rule about tht rule that he and his father ONLY were allowed in it, and if he went in, he had to sign what he took, so his father wouldn't go crazy when he lost money.
-Locking the door behind him he skipped through the hallway to the back door, happy to just have a bag,even if he hadn't smoked it yet. Wrapping he large hands around the top of the gate, he leaped over without effort. His feet silently trampled a garden full of flowers as he happily walked across his neighbors yard, not caring that the lady that lived there would complain. Fence after fence he leaped, kicked a dog, knocked over a play set, ruining multiple gardens until he reached the fence that let him to the back of his school building.
-Lighting a regular green blunt he gazed at people passing him. Diverting his attention to the blunt he took a good, long drag, and sighed in relief. Slowly he thoughts drifted as people passed by him, making sure not to cross path with the stoner. Almost immediately the thought of that girl at starbucks came to mind. She was pretty,polite, and always knew what he wanted when he stumbled in higher then a bird and hallucinating. But then again, when you do into starbucks, its almost garunteed that your gonna get a regular coffee with ether a bagel or a donut. Wether it was garunteed or not, it made him feel warm and cozy inside,in addition to the care free feeling of being baked.
“ is nothing but an illusion for the weak. ”
Ryu is baked.
HEAD s-s-shot
405 words
J a y
A mop of dark brown hair laid messily across a light tan and white striped pillow. Attached to it laid a petite girl with fair skin, long eyelashes, and pale pink lips. She had the makings of a model even in her slumber. Lightly slowly started to pour into the room as time passed. Soon light spilled onto her eyes, a quiet moan escaped from the pale pink lips as her eyelids fluttered open, revealing brown and green eyes. Yawning the girl sat up in her bed, looking around her tan and green room, making sure the monster under her bed didn't steal any of her things. Oddly, even at 15, she was scared of the monster under her bed, though not the one in the closet. She had conquered the one in the closet when she was 13, making it 'her b***h lover'.
Jumping off her bed to make sure the monster couldn't grab her feet she slapped her chunky iPod classic, turning it on and connecting it to her speakers, her room now blasting La Roux. Her room seemed to vibrate with the music as she swung her closet door open, her imaginary 'b***h lover' hiding under her basket of old clothes. Looking through her closet she quickly chose an outfit with her favorite shoes and skipped into the bathroom across the hall to the bathroom, taking a quick shower and blow drying her slightly wavy hair to be pin straight. Slipping into her clothes she walked out of the bathroom and back into her room, disconnecting her iPod classic and heading downstairs to the livingroom.
Throwing herself on the dark brown couch she put her feet up on the coffee table and flipped the large flat screen TV on. Switching the channel to cartoon network, chowder appeared on the screen. Watching TV for about an hour her stomach started to growl. Lazily she texted her sister to either come home or wake up and make her something to eat. It wasn't that Jay hated to cook or anything, she just didn't want to miss any cartoons. Slowly her mind started to wander from cartoons to her sisters boyfriend. He was a hot piece of man, and even though he was her sisters, she was positive someday he would be hers.
A mop of dark brown hair laid messily across a light tan and white striped pillow. Attached to it laid a petite girl with fair skin, long eyelashes, and pale pink lips. She had the makings of a model even in her slumber. Lightly slowly started to pour into the room as time passed. Soon light spilled onto her eyes, a quiet moan escaped from the pale pink lips as her eyelids fluttered open, revealing brown and green eyes. Yawning the girl sat up in her bed, looking around her tan and green room, making sure the monster under her bed didn't steal any of her things. Oddly, even at 15, she was scared of the monster under her bed, though not the one in the closet. She had conquered the one in the closet when she was 13, making it 'her b***h lover'.Jumping off her bed to make sure the monster couldn't grab her feet she slapped her chunky iPod classic, turning it on and connecting it to her speakers, her room now blasting La Roux. Her room seemed to vibrate with the music as she swung her closet door open, her imaginary 'b***h lover' hiding under her basket of old clothes. Looking through her closet she quickly chose an outfit with her favorite shoes and skipped into the bathroom across the hall to the bathroom, taking a quick shower and blow drying her slightly wavy hair to be pin straight. Slipping into her clothes she walked out of the bathroom and back into her room, disconnecting her iPod classic and heading downstairs to the livingroom.
Throwing herself on the dark brown couch she put her feet up on the coffee table and flipped the large flat screen TV on. Switching the channel to cartoon network, chowder appeared on the screen. Watching TV for about an hour her stomach started to growl. Lazily she texted her sister to either come home or wake up and make her something to eat. It wasn't that Jay hated to cook or anything, she just didn't want to miss any cartoons. Slowly her mind started to wander from cartoons to her sisters boyfriend. He was a hot piece of man, and even though he was her sisters, she was positive someday he would be hers.
Did ya' hear 'bout Jamie Johnson?!
HEAD s-s-shot
604 words
Maddox rolled his eyes, listening to his brothers three points. Who was he to tell him what to do and not to do around the twins!? Maddox was the one raising them, if anything Maddox should be telling his Dad what to do around his own twins! Maddox was a single dad in a way. He took care of everything but money for the twins. He was the first person they saw, and the last everyday, even if Maddox was busy with school, or filming something. There had been multiple times when people thought the twins were his, and to get into the babysitting program in his school, he wrote them down as his children, claimed to be living strictly with his siblings,no father, and was making a whole lot less then they family actually was. Even with the babysitting program, they didn't hold them for his lunch period, so he had to keep them with him every free second he had. And they were no chick magnets. Even as cute as they were, if anything, they were girl repellants.
Maddox's eyes turned into slits at the mention of his mother. In his eyes, she deserved to die a million times over. What she did was unforgivable. To leave the way she did deserved a years worth of torture. Sure his siblings were feeling pain for losing their mother, but he was feeling pain, cause now he was a father. He was never close to her anyway. He always seemed to sink to the background of the family. He was the one that never asked for much, always left to his own devices, but never seemed to mess up, or rebel, no matter how many chances he had. To hear his brother speak of their mother so fondly made the anger that was finally settling come back with full force. "If only she wasn't a irresponsible b***h who couldn't even raise a fish." he seemed to hiss back at the idea of being sad for a mother who wasn't even there.
Maddox pushed his brother away, not accepting the hug and walked away, packing his things, getting ready to leave. He had wanted to go into the city to try to get a contract, as his brother did, but hadn't had the chance to, so for next few days, that's what he would do. His mother took away his freedom when she left, and this time he didn't have anything holding him back. Having everything packed he took a disc from his mac and tossed it on the kitchen counter. It had everything. Both Kibe and Nick's music videos, hours of the twins, all his finished movies and unfinished movies, a video of Jazz dancing from years ago and all of his scripts. Basically just everything he had saved on his computer. Not once before had he let anyone see his videos, but since he was looking for a contract, might as well. Finding Jazz's keys he threw his things into her car and started it, not bothering to get his cell phone from his brother's room. He didn't want to be found, so he simply would have a way that they could contact him. Returning to the kitchen he snatched both twins from the counter and carrying them into their room he quickly changed their diapers and returned them to the kitchen counter, pulling a hand full of teddy-grams and putting them in a bowl he put it on the kitchen counter between the twins for both of them to share. And with that he left, without any good byes or farewells.
Maddox Parker, your average nerd.
HEAD s-s-shot
1251 words
Dunkun "Dinky" Danachu☢
There's so much o x e g e n
that I forgot to b r e a t h e
And your only making things w o r s t
that I forgot to b r e a t h e
And your only making things w o r s t
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
-A mountain of thick, light grey sheet rose and collapsed gently as a tall pale male breathed slowly. Green eyes scanned a room covered in stolen property. Glued to the white wall above the bed was a large T-mobile advertisement covered in graffiti from everything to dates to gang signs, if found, a 200 dollar fine. In place of a bureau to match his cherry wood bed frame, he had a tool box with many drawers, covered in stickers, car paint, and graffiti, stolen from a small auto-shop with a lot of business. In a corner where most people would put a coat hanger, a school locker sat, again, covered in graffiti, he had gotten it back when he lived in the city, and it was easier to steal from the school. Instead of a regular wooden door, like most people had, he had a curtain and a train door, the window sprayed black, as not to let anyone peek into his room. How he managed to steal it from the train and not get caught or killed, he didn't know, but it was his now. The last wall was mostly covered in mirrors, 4 NYC bus seats lying at the bottom of the wall, and everywhere else covered in his own graffiti, versus the work of others, rarely could he see even a spec of white on this wall, or so he thought.
-With a sigh the mountain of gray blanket was tossed to the end of the bed, revealing a large pale skinned male with pale palms, and red locks of wavy hair on his head. Those large pale palms pushed on the mattress covered in white sheets as the male, Dinky, as most called him, lifted his torso upright and spun, so his feet touched the ground. With a groan he supported himself on his feet and tried to walk out through what he thought to be subway doors. With a loud 'BANG' the red head hit the white, stainless steel door, face first, then fell to the ground. This colorful room that h had woken up in, was nothing. Te graffiti covered walls were really blank white walls. Blank white walls that reflected everything else in the institution. Plain and white. It reflected what life would be until he got out. Plain and white. The only difference between life and the plain white walls, was that life at gateway involved pills. Pills by the bucket full, and it was these pills that kept Dinky alive.
Not alive physically, but emotionally. He didn't need them. He didn't need to be there. He didn't need and real help. And if he did, it would be over drugs. He originally wanted help with them. He looked to gateway as a rehab, but gateway had already failed him. They tried to cure his addiction, with his addiction. It was like fighting fire with fire. Useless, just burns people. The drugs they gave him to get over his addictions didn't cure him, just distracted him. He was now addicted to a mix of schizophrenia pills, weak hallucinogens to help him sleep, mild anti depressants to keep his violent fits under control, and high dosages of ibuprofen to kill his random headaches. The whole mix might have kept him from thinking of illegal drugs, but it sent him on a never ending search for prescription pills.
Laying on the floor as his world of color dissolved into a world of monotone he felt the door push against him. Moving out of the way he saw the nurse walk in silently. "To the day room, Mr. Danachu." she told him blandly, handing him a dixie cup of pills. Dinky's face turned from a blank one to a content one as he sat up and swallowed all the pills at once without water, as always. Sure, it hurt his throat to do so, but that was an excuse to get more ibuprofen later on in the day. And Ibuprofen was his favorite pill out of all of them.
Slipping on a gray pair of sweats and a green v-neck tee shirt he left his room without fuss. Unlike most others, he was sort of happy to be there. So what if this place was monochrome and child-safe. It had pills, and lots of them. In the last month he had so many pills that his slight case of schizophrenia turned mild. But who cares? Hallucinations were fun to him. Little furry blobs always at his feet. He couldn't hear them, but he could see them, and on his version of good days, when his schizophrenia was at its worst, he tried his hardest to pet the invisible blobs. Smiling widely he started to mosh as he walked. Mostly two-stepping and gorilla. His two favorite moves since before he even started smoking.
Finally getting to the day room he stared at everyone there, a huge smile still on his face, still two stepping. The way he entered made him look a million times more insane then he really was, but if the other people in this room had stayed in the hospital for as long as he had, they would understand. He had entered almost perfectly sane, like everyone in the day room, but slowly he was loosing it. A person can take only so many pills, see so much white, talk to so many nurses before losing their mind. Everything that everyone detested became what he loved. He had started to love being a mild schizophrenic, both for the pills and the hallucinations. He also loved having headaches. He didn't know if it was for the medication they gave him for it, or the attention, but he loved it either way. He loved these boring white walls, because they allowed his schizophrenia to grow, and he loved the nurses, because they supplied the pills. And all of his love for the institution usually showed, specially at the day room. Dinky easily chose who he would see first. Sophia, the schizophrenic. He always like talking to schizo's more. He was positive it wasn't because he could relate, but because when he talked to them, their eyes always twitched in odd ways, or they responded to someone he didn't know, or their emotions changed so rapidly that it gave him a thrill. "Hey there, Miss." he greeted her.
He had been there longer then most people in the day room, so he knew everyone there by name, whether they had ever had a conversation or not. It was just in his nature to ease drop on newcomer's conversation. He had a thrill from it. Like he was guessing Rumpelstiltskin's name, though he didn't get a prize for it. Though the new patients didn't know it, they had come in a group, being administered to the day room on roughly the same day, grouped together on how fast they were predicted to go completely insane. Some groups stayed sane for longer, like the stick figures always lasted longer then the sleepless people. The group he had come in with were nut heads, all either mild or severe schizophrenia and/or pyromaniacs, himself included but he hadn't gone off the deep end just yet. His group were in 24/7 rubber rooms by the second week, and though he wasn't there yet, he knew where he was going, and he just embarrassed it. He chose to be happy and talk to other people while he still could.
I hope you sleep s o f t l y
with this p i l l o w
pressed against your f a c e
with this p i l l o w
pressed against your f a c e
HEAD s-s-shot
721 words
Dunkun "Dinky" Danachu☢
There's so much o x e g e n
that I forgot to b r e a t h e
And your only making things w o r s t
that I forgot to b r e a t h e
And your only making things w o r s t
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
In the beginning, when Dunkun had first been admitted to gateway, he was extremely sensitive to screaming. Every time he heard someone scream, he would join them, not because he was crazy (maybe it was), but because it had startled him. When someone screamed, they used to had to sedate both the first person who screamed, and Dinky. But those days were over.
Like a country person who came to live in a city, he got used to it. Like a country kid in the city he was started by the periodical passing of trains that thundered under the streets, in his case, periodical screaming that occurred right before every meal, when most of the medications were starting to wear off. But after a month or so, maybe even a year, the rumbling under your feet wasn't there anymore, or at least unnoticeable to them, much like the screams from the patients. It was just something he dismissed immediately, as someone would dismiss a sneeze, a yawn, or a cough.
Dinky watched people come and go, his head still thumping. He was barely able to handle the pain, but he didn't show it. Not in his face, anyway. His body language screamed of it though. Dinky was usually a bubbly person. Dancing whenever he got bored, or just felt like dancing. Talking to someone every chance he got, and smiling even when there was nothing to smile about. It could be the medications that were making him so happy all the time, but it could be just Dinky being happy all the time, but either way most nurses were more then pleased when he was happy.
A happy patient means a happy nurse, most of the time at least. When a patient was happy, they don't fight against the nurses. They take medications as ordered, leave the room as told, and were usually polite to nurses. On the other hand, a pissed of patient was a head ache for the nurses. Throw a fit to get out of bed. Throw a fit to take medications. Throw a fit to leave the room, and to that, nurses were total bitches. And dinky learned this early during his stay at gateway.
Dinky also learned early on in his stay at gateway, that some people really didn't like it when others were happy. Specially someone who was always happy, like Dinky. He couldn't help it. Happy was his default emotion, and it took a great amount of effort to make him anything other then happy. He didn't know if it were the pills. Maybe it could be another sign of insanity. It could be his only sign of sanity. But either way, that wouldn't change. Not easily, anyway.
That was when the person in black finally responded. Dinky's headache quickly turned from barable to murderous. It was rare that his head aches got that bad. They were pretty bad, but not bad enough to wipe the smile off of his face. If a smile could be broken, his could be in a million different pieces, his bright eyes being replaced with a fiery stare.
Dinky just stared for a few moments, trying to calm down, telling himself that the guy or girl just didn't take medications. That they couldn't help but be that way. Usually telling himself that would work, but he had a head ache on top of that. Much like a girl with cramps, the pain would be taken out on someone if not medicated properly.
"Don't think your so high and ******** mighty! 'Oh look at me, I didn't take my medications! I'm better then everyone else here!' ******** fagot! Go put some more eye liner on and kill yourself." he spat back at the man.
None of the people in the room had ever seen him like that. The nurses have, but only because someone had tried to tease him about being schizophrenic. He was a relatively gentle person, but the outburst made one of the newer nurses stare in disbelief at him, stunned. The older nurses commanded her to do something, since they were all busy and knew that if Lyra responded even in a remotely nasty way, or even rolled his eyes, Dinky would throw a punch, but she didn't move. Poor nurse would get hell for it later.
I hope you sleep s o f t l y
with this p i l l o w
with this p i l l o w
HEAD s-s-shot
663 words
xxxx Arnoldo Malichixxxx
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Dark brown eyes followed a small creature fiercly, as if looking away would cost the man his life. Quietly sat the leader of the rebellion, Arnoldo Malichi, at the side of a river, watching the turtles swim, his dragon laying down about 14 feet away. As his eyes followed the little things, his mind turned, an epiphany racing through the mans mind. He ran a hand through his tight curls, stretching a handful out, only to let them go, and spring back into their original position.
Arnoldo let out a deep breathe that he didn't know he was holding. Shells! Such a simple concept! But it was one that could help his rebellion. Dragons could fly, some can swim, and most had some kind of strength, but none of them could take too many beatings. Sure, their skin was tough, but it wasn't rock hard. Sure, armor was strong and could take a beating, but the dragon and rider can't hide in it. Thats what he needed. A shell, so that if in the middle of a battle field a dragon can take no more, and can't retreat, they curl up into a ball, inside a shell, and wait until it safe to leave, or attack again.
The only issue was weight. Armors were known to be heavy, for his dragon specially. Though Arnoldo was leader of the rebellion, he had one of the smallest dragons, so heavy things weren't his cup of tea. Mykati, his dragon, was all for speed. A constant flow of small attacks could do as much damage as one or two huge hits, and thats how it went, but a constant flow was hard to achieve with weights slowing her down. But either was, Arnoldo had done what he had left for.
He wanted to improve at least one small thing for the rebellion, and though nothing was done yet, he knew what needed to be fixed, and he knew what he wanted as an end product. All that needed to be sorted out was how to do it exactly. It was something that had to be discussed with his people. People of which, he had to return to.
Hoping onto Mykati they quickly took to the air, small glints coming off of both the dragon and its rider from the rings that they wore. Mykati and her many earrings with silver paint and Arnoldo with his endless tattoos and small handfull of piercings. Mykati flew close to the trees, but fast, so not to be noticed by anyone, unless they saw her shine. Mykati was a dark red, almost black color, but with all the silver that was put onto her, she was the leader indicator. If anyone saw a blob of shine that wasn't the sun, Arnoldo was on his way, no doubt about it.
With ease the leader and his dragon flew through the water fall and quickly settled down. Arnoldo jumped off the dragon, and Mykati flew away, not even Arnoldo would know where she was, but when he needed her, she would know, and return to him, without him even saying her name. Walking through this path happily he greeted everyone who passed. Unlike his second in command, he was extremely light hearted. He could command an army with an iron fist, but if there was no immediate threat, he could relax like anyone else. Tell a bad joke or two. Hang around with a 14 year old, just for kicks, even help stable boys with their jobs.
After greeting anyone who passed him he needed to get an update. "Who has time for little Arnoldo!?" he called out to no one in particular. He wasn't calling out, to command, but to ask. If no one had any time, he wouldn't be insulted. He would take it as them being busy, and would see someone later. If someone responded to him, that would be great, but either way he would be happy.
HEAD s-s-shot
835 words
Roxanne Sadie Sweeny, the P R I S S Y || J E R KDuran Duran started to boom through a room through a pair of speakers. Slowly a mop of dark brown hair was shaken around by two tiny hands with yellow polish on the nails. After a bit a petite female of five foot one rose to her feet and fixed her yellow pajama shorts and her off white spaghetti strap shirt she used for pajamas during the winter. Looking to the window she couldn't see anything.
The difference between the temperatures of the outside and the inside were so far apart that her window was fogged to a point where even if she tried to clear it up, it would still be foggy. It was think enough to stab. Being the big complainer that she was, she would probably complain about sweating in her sleep to the wrong people. Heck, she totally forgot she had to go and welcome people into the school, so there was no doubt she would b***h about being too hot to a homeless guy or girl, while that person freezes at night.
Walking to her iPod she changed the artist to Billy Idol and let his playlist run as she picked out her outfit. As always it had at least a tint of yellow, her favorite color. She always had yellow somewhere in his outfit. She could be wearing all pink, and then wear yellow jewelry. Or all blue, then a yellow headband with a yellow belt. Whatever it was, it had yellow in it. her logic; Yellow is a happy color, so I'll wear it all the time. But she wasn't exactly a happy person, she just looked like one, something most people in the school already knew.
leaving her room, clothing in hand she saw her older sister walking towards the bathroom and started to sprint. As tired as she was, she wouldn't miss a chance to piss her wanna-be doctor of a sister off. It wasn't friendly sibling rivalry, or a bad sense of humor, she honestly just didn't like her. She didn't hate the girl, but there was something about her that made Rio wanna punch her in the face sometimes. Making it into the bathroom she slammed the bathroom door in the others face and made sure to take as much time as possible in the bathroom. Heck, half the time she was in there she wasn't even doing anything worth doing, like counting q-tips and reading the bottles of pills.
Finally coming out in her outfit for the day she smiled to her sister and walked downstairs to the basement. She might have been ready to leave before her sister, but that didn't mean she would get to school on time. Letting herself into an extra room she spotted a bengal cat sleeping soundly on an overly expensive pillow. "Chicky!" Rio called the cat by name as she shook it, then picked it up and spun around.
Putting the cat down and feeding it she decided to start cleaning the cats room. That's right. The cat had its own room, heating, running water a closet and everything. Cleaning the room and litter box she noticed the time. She was late. Super late at that. But since she was late, no point in rushing, she she sat down and brushed the cats fur, before getting up and finally heading to school.
Just before entering the school building she felt her fone vibrating, meaning it had an announcement.
Go to main office, welcome commitee.
FML! she thought to herself. More work!
Walking straight to the main office she took a deep breath in and out and entered with a warm smile. The kind of smile celebrities give. Huge, warm, and bright. But just like a celebrity, this smile was fake, but the newcomers wouldn't be able to tell. Nobody could tell that she wasn't all happy until she knew them for a few hours. Looking around she started to go through her iPhone to see if she saved who she was supposed to meet somewhere in there, but she didn't. Shrugging it off she looked around again. "Who's supposed to be with me?" she asked casually as she dropped her cell phone into her bag.
HEAD s-s-shot
678 words
Jacobi Fillol Cordier.
- As Jacobi packed his camera he sighed. He honestly hadn't been himself in a while. He was usually a calm guy, who went with the flow, but as of lately he was tense and anxious all the time. Now hes always on the edge of breaking something, and people were noticing. "Sir, are you okay? Don't you think your being a little rough with the equipment?" an intern questioned him rhetorically. Everybody knew Cobi wasn't okay, and Cobi knew he was being reckless with his camera and tripod, but he couldn't help it. He respected the kid for having courage to say something, and say it so respectfully at the same time. He looked to the intern and nodded. "I'll be back" he said briefly as he got up and left to take a breather.
As he took a walk around the building he noticed one of his models coming out of a different studio. By the way her hair was he could tell it was Jazzibelle, but by her figure some would say she gained weight, but he could tell she was early into pregnancy. This got him even more heated. He felt like taking her hand and paying for her abortion, but by the time he could think to call out her name she was gone. Most would have thought she was just gaining weight, but if she were purely gaining weight, he would see it in her face first. But her face was still one of a slender models. She just had a tiny little pouch. While it wasn't ugly, rather cute, it would ******** with her career anyway. But he just had to talk to her later, he still had to pack his equipment.
Quickly finishing his packing he gave his interns assignments to do in his absence and bid them farewell. Leaving the building he started to walk home at a fast pace. He needed to pack and leave, his mind stuck on two things. His cheating girlfriend and his pregnant top model. He was honestly considering just going gay. Girl were so stupid and dishonest sometimes, he got tired of it. He packed in hyper speed, as not to grab attention to his girl friend and left, getting in his car and taking the long dragging drive to the beach house. It was a good few hours, pretty road, but every hour or so he would pull over and cry for a bit.
He hated to cry, but he felt so frustrated. He was about to marry Robyn, then he hears something like that. From his best friend too! Garret had texted him one day about how there was a rumor that Robyn was sleeping around, and that he was pretty sure it was true, but didn't know for sure, and didn't know for who, or for how long, but it still tore Cobi up on the inside. Little did he know the Garret was the guy she was sleeping with. That was about a week and a half ago, and he hasn't been able to even talk to Robyn since. The most hes done since Garret told him the bad news was say 'good morning' every other day. He hasn't even slept in his own bed cause of it.
Luckily, Cobi was in one piece when he got there. Parking quickly he jumped out and grabbed his luggage and walked to the front door, checking what room he would be in. Rooming with Robyn, of course. Any other time he would have been happy, but he didn't really care to be next to her right now. Looks like hes gonna sneak into the living room at night to sleep. Letting himself in he went straight to the room, not caring to say hello to anyone he passed. He would have gone unnoticed if he hadn't punched a wall when he saw there was one bed in the room. He was half expecting two beds, since it was a show, but it was just one. This would be a long long vacation.
HEAD s-s-shot
974 words
*Bjorn Soren Dolph
"There is a point at which everything becomes simple and there is no longer any question of choice, because all you have staked will be lost if you look back. Life's point of no return."The street was dark but the old, dim sign that read "Dolph's Tailoring", you could tell it was once a pretty light blue, but it was covered with so much dust you could hardly see the light through it. It was in this store that the 6'2" man in his early twenties, sat in front of a sewing machine with his short blond hair kept off his forehead by a headband, and kept his blue eyes on his work. Just two more wires to sew in. Just two to finish the corset piece of a wedding dress, then his mom would attach the skirt corset and sleeves, then remeasure the bride, and his dad would make adjustments after wards. But for now, Bjorn just focused on finishing the corset while his dad dealt with bills in the front of the store.
After the corset was done he would go out, he didn't know where yet, but he would. He just had to finis this damned thing. It wasn't exactly a hard task for him to do though. He had been tailoring with his parents since he was12, it was just time consuming. He almost never ******** up at this shop, but he was so off focus that he let the machine pinch his fingers. "Ahh." he said to himself in no particular tone. It hurt, but not enough for him to scream in pain or pleasure. He had become used to the pinch, it was sort of a dull feeling now. He needed something more to really get his nerves going.
After all, he had taken pain all his life. He had become used to it, to a point where he was almost numb to it. To any normal person it would be a gift, to block out unpleasant feelings, but for him it made life bornig. He liked pain, so not feeling it much didn't help. He had pinched himself in the machine a million times over, had piercings ripped right from his skin, and had been whiped with phone wires for all of his teenage years. He loved it, while others took pity.
They looked at him as the ESL kid, who got beaten as a kid and was forced into the family business. But Bjorn saw himself as the guy with parents from Sweden who liked pain and was inheriting a steady income whether he really worked or not.
What usually took people off guard was him being a masochist. They expected the foreign kid to be good at their parents trade, and to have English as their second language. But nobody expected a masochist. It wasn't exactly a secret either. It wasn't advertised like oxy-clean, but it was a well known fact. Sort of like how everyone knows you can't cure a cold, but nobody really goes around screaming about it. They knew he was more then comfortable in his skin, and would answer questions openly, it was just that most people didn't bother to.
Finally done he rose from the chair and fixed himself, taking off the head band and adjusting his shirt. Being the tailor's son, obviously he dressed well. He had begun his day in the perfect fitting business suit, but by now he left the top part on his chair. In just dress shoes, dark blue slacks and a white button up shirt he decided to leave. "Jag ska gå hustru jakt." he told his father, translating to 'I'm going wife hunting.' his Dad didn't even look up, just mumbled "Gör mig en farfar, redan Björn." meaning 'Make me a grandfather already, Bjorn'.
If Bjorn's parents knew he wasn't actually looking for a wife, but just partying they would have found a way to keep him home, but grandchildren were their top priority. They would rather be homeless for eternity then die without grandchildren. Bjorn didn't know what it was about them that they wanted him to get married and have kids as soon as possible, but he used it to his advantage. If they didn't give him what he wanted, he would tell them that he planned not to EVER have children, and that he would marry a man just to piss them off. It always worked.
Heading out the door he quickly walked towards the pink slippers, but of course being a good walk away, he cut through the carnival. Walking at a quick pace it was no time until he started hearing the voices of Flynn and Bryan, and the voice of the b***h Chika leaving them. Bjorn wasn't the kind to dislike people right off the bat, but he hated her since he found out that she existed. But Flynn on the other hand, though most people tended to stay away from him, he was one of his closest friends. He didn't know exactly why, because he admitted Flynn could make any situation awkward, but Flynn was just one of those people that Bjorn couldn't help but love unconditionally. Bryan was a good friend too, just not one of the closest ones. He was still extremely open with Bryan, it was just he didn't spend as much time with Bryan then he did with Flynn.
Walking up to them he wrapped his arms around both of their shoulders. "Flynn! Bryan! I"m heading to slips, where are you guys going?" he asked, pronouncing both of their names wrong, obviously because of his Swedish accent. It wasn't as strong as it was a few years ago, but you could still tell it was there, specially when he said peoples names. He was definitely fluent in English, just couldn't say names. People usually let it slide, but some people took it up the a**, so he would call girls 'Flicka' and boys 'Pojke'. It was just how he was.
"Det finns en punkt där allt blir enkelt och det finns inte längre någon fråga om val, eftersom alla du har spelat kommer att förloras om man tittar tillbaka. Livs punkt utan återvändo."
HEAD s-s-shot
1021 words
listlistlistlistlistt“There's no excuse to be bored. Sad, yes. Angry, yes. Depressed, yes. Crazy, yes.”
Baxter was probably seven or eight years younger then he is now. Young and foolish at a college party. It was after a campus wide streak, and he had painted 'NEVER GROW UP, NEVER GROW BORED!' on his back, and was getting it tattooed on his shoulder blade. A saying he promised himself that he would keep that night, but didn't for a whole six years after college.
A whole six damn years. How he survived such torture he didn't understand. Repeating the same boring routine everyday. Wake up on the left side of the bed, do a double take, turn off the alarm. Look at the time; '5:03 ', rub face. Swing feet onto ground stumble into the bathroom. Take a shower, use vanilla body wash, and head and shoulder's shampoo. Put on a suit, get stuck in traffic, go to work. Highlight. Copy. Paste. Enter. Repeat. Boring. For six. ********. years.
After six years, Baxter was saved. Wasn't the most elegant, or nicest wake up call, but it opened his eyes wide. He had become exactly what he hated while he was in college. 'The mans robot!' he used to call business man and women. But being abducted opened his eyes to that. The torture the blood and the screaming taught him a little lesson; don't be boring. And he was about to teach the same lesson to a lawyer.
This time a petite brunette was his recruit. She had brown hair- not exactly blackish brown, or brondish brown, just brown, and her eyes were some mix of green and brown. Definitely pretty, but boring too. Her life was like everyone else's. Wake up, go to work, come home, eat, sleep, repeat. He watched her doing that for a whole month, and everyday that passed he realized how much of a b***h she was, watching her seemed like more torture then actually being tortured.
But the closer he got to the due date the more excited he became. Maybe she once thought the same way he did, and if that was the case she would be relatively easy to teach. Maybe even lighten up her attitude.
It was the last day and she got out of work late, again. Did she know how to say no? Ever? She could be cranky, but she couldn't say no. What a nut job. Waiting in a bush he watched her walk by in her stupidly clean shoes, they made him look homeless. She wore a nice business suit while he wore sweatpants, and black tee shirt, and the oldest pair of Nike shoes ever.
It bothered him just a tiny bit. Sure he owned a few good Business suits, but he chose to be comfortable, and he didn't want to look like a drone unless he had to. He was just about ready to tackle her when his foot slipped, making him whisper [********] to himself. He didn't think he was loud enough for her to hear, but he was, and he had to make his move, and fast.
She called Kevin's name a few times, he considered responding, just to mess with her a little more, but what if she screamed? Then what? Baxter opened a small zip-block bag and took out a tissue, jumped out behind her, telling her clearly not to scream, but he could already tell she was going to, so he covered her mouth with that tissue covered in anesthetic.
Carrying her through a near by alleyway was easy. She was so small, it was like carrying a backpack. What was she, like 80 pounds? And with it being so late, nobody was around to question him. Putting her in the back seat of the car he started the long drive home.
Finally getting there he carried her down the stairs. Rickety damn stair made him trip, falling to the ground, sending the girl to the ground too. She would wake up with a few more pains then intended, for sure. Tying up the girl he tried to go back upstairs, but his foot fell through a whole in the stairs. "The hell!" he hissed at nothing in particular. The house needed to be fixed, well not really. Just the stairs.
Yanking out his foot from the stairs he went into his room. he decided to be the boss of an old folks home. Nobody questions the guy that worked at an old folks home! Looking through his suits he noticed a good chunk of them had blood stains on them. How was he supposed to look unnoticeable with blood stains!? Finally after a good hour of searching he finally found a decent suit. He didn't bother to do his hair or anything, it would look weird to be abducted and still have his hair looking good.
Looking in his pill drawer he picked out a grey pill- the one that takes about 5 minutes to knock someone out. Swallowing the pill he made a dash through the house, getting to the stair case his foot fell through the same damn hole, making him stop in his tracks. How was he supposed to get to the ground before he knocked out! This time he had his leg twisted in it, and he was feeling himself fade out just as he got his foot out, sending him tumbling down the stairs, hitting the concrete hard, face first right before he completely blacked out, sprawled sloppily right in front of the stair case.
Give or take three hours later he could already hear the others questioning where they were. Lifting his face off the floor and ground. He made a horrible landing. He just wanted to get up, go to the kitchen and get an ice pack, but with these damn people there he couldn't. Touching his face he winced. He wasn't bleeding, but that fall really hurt. "What's happening!?" he asked rhetorically out of habit. He didn't expect anyone to know, other then the other assistant, but she knew better then to tell them out right.
“But there'sote] no excuse for boredom, ever.”