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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:28 pm
Character name: Robert Morris Link to journal AND/OR Quest Thread: i smell burningDescribe your character's personality in less than 30 words: Labrador Retriever the size of Clifford. Does your character have a ship/ OTP? He is currently paired with Mimsy. He was previously married and screwed that up royally. He is determined to do better this time. Describe your character if they were a vegetable: Oh, I think in general, vegetable sums it up pretty well. What is your character's favourite music/ song/ piece? the entire soundtrack from Guys and Dolls What is your character's hobby, if they had spare time? Professional Dancing Is your character more arts, science, or sports inclined? Performance Arts, but he loves Football What type of personality traits does your character gravitate towards? Someone who can tell him (and everyone else) what to do What are your character's personality traits (Good ones?) Loyal, Obedient, Fierce and passionate, flexible, selfless, unflinchingly happy, and overly loving. What are your character's personality flaws? Passionate to the point of violence, childish, unintelligent, easily swayed What is your character's favourite colour? Red! Describe your character if they were in the opposite faction: If Robert was a Halloweener he would be a cwn annwyn. A big silly loving puppy of a man, probably a trickster though not clever enough to get away with anything, and would use his ability to phase through walls in terribly inappropriate manners. What would your character look like as the opposite gender OR 10 years into the future? As a girl Robert would look like a busty big swede. With Chun Li thighs. If your character was an Amityville Professor/ Divison Leader/ Horsemen Clans lead how would they teach others? No.. no.. no. Who does your character look up to? His best friend Jordan, his deceased pseudo mother Clarice, and the smartest woman he's ever met, Mimsy. What is a great weakness of your character? His lack of intellect. What are their favourite foods? SANDWICHES Favourite fashion style? terrible punny shirts Favourite minipet? cwn annwyn If your character was in a fantasy novel who would they be? Maybe an Ent from Hobbit. Describe your character as a mythical creature: I.. I don't know how to answer this.. WAIT I know he's a Luck Dragon from Neverending Story there Describe your character as a Disney princess and/ or Villain If he was in a Disney movie he'd end up being a grunt. Like Krunk. He's Krunk. If your character could travel anywhere where would they go? He's not big on travel, but he wouldn't mind going on a food tour of the world! If your character could confess one great secret what would they confess? His greatest secret is that he will never, ever forgive himself for hurting someone as much as he hurt Petra.
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:40 pm
Challenge Day One: 17. Friendship
There weren't enough hours in the day, and that did not stop him from returning to his old room and scrubbing the walls. Permanent marker - of course he'd used permanent, because what else would he have - but despite the mess he'd left his basement room, this room was different. He couldn't leave it written on. So he returned, scrubs and bleach and sponge in hand, to clean up the football markings on the wall. Circles and x's and lines crossing over one another - a grand mess of art detailing a football game that did not exist. All to try and make his best friend happy.
But he had to clean it now, because this room wasn't his, anymore. So he scrubbed, until everything but two little stick figure football players were left. His sponge left the bucket and he lifted up to start, but then he lowered it back again, and peered carefully at them both.
He should take Jordan out for some football, he told himself quickly. Jezebel agreed, if only because she liked the idea of Jordan sweating on the field.
When he left to get back to work after the small break he'd used to come up and clean, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two stick figures still drawn on the wall.
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 7:51 pm
Challenge Day One: 85. Treasure
He wasn't welcome in the basement anymore.
Everyone believed he'd torched his own room. They probably thought he was crazy, and maybe he was, a little. But if they thought he was crazy, then they would probably stay away. And he accepted that as his punishment for protecting the woman he loved.
He'd asked where all of his debris went, and when he was told, he'd gone dumpster diving. His entire body was covered in soot and wet black slickness by the time he'd actually found it. He was coughing up black, when he climbed out of the dumpster, and the rest of the day was completely ruined.
But it was totally worth it.
He walked away from that dumpster with a tiny little grey piece of a statue, whistling whenever he wasn't coughing up a sooty lung.
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 9:36 pm
Challenge Day One: 27. Challenge
"The.. mandible.." He reached up and shifted his jaw left and right - this was how he remembered. "That's connected to the.." He slapped the side of his head softly, trying to recall the correct name of the skull. "Car.. carnie.. carnium." He peeked in the back, and let out a frustrated sigh. "CRANIUM. Why can't these quacks just call it a damn skull, Jesus Christ on a cracker.." He flipped back to the unlabeled skeleton picture, immediately diving back in. "And then that's up here with the uh.. vertie.. vertie brae!" He knocked the back of his neck hard, with his hand, wincing at the effort and losing all of the thrill of victory.
"Jesus, Robert. Keep smacking yourself that hard and there ain't gonna be a single cell of your cerie brum left. BAHA!"
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 9:47 pm
Challenge Day One: 78. Laughter
It hadn't even been that funny. He didn't know why he couldn't stop laughing, but the more he tried, the funnier it got. The duo of trainees standing in front of him on the stairwell seemed unimpressed at first, but his laughter had become so contagious, that they couldn't help themselves. At first, it was just an embarrassed chuckle. It grew into snickers, followed by tearful body bending barks of laughter. Still, they never quite reached his loud, shaking levels, and when he'd started hiccuping from laughing too hard, they were set off on a whole new bout of giggles.
It was too late to stop laughing even as they watched him accidentally bowl over, sliding down an entire flight of steps headfirst, while still laughing. But at least they'd checked up on him, to make sure he was okay.
Concussions only made life funnier.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 8:21 pm
22. Family
It was just a piece of paper.
He realized, a long time ago, that Deus did not appreciate the meanings behind things like marriage certificates. His own, which had been printed out as a favor and literally held no legal or religious contract since they were legally dead, still hung on the wall upstairs, somehow having survived the violence that was his break up with Petra. It was a spot on the edge of his vision, every time he saw it - it meant nothing to anyone but the two of them, and now, it was null and void. His fault. He couldn't look at it. Or he hadn't been able to, until today.
Now he looked at it, and saw all of the flaws. All of the typos, the way the ink had faded on one side because the printer was running low. The awful flourish of Killzone's autograph on the bottom - the signature of a dead man on a dead certificate. It seemed to make sense.
Robert left it up on the wall, because it was just a piece of paper. But it had meant something, at the time. When he was just a little more naive, and just a little more hopeful that life at Deus could be something close to normal.
He knew better now.
Marriage certificates meant as much to him as death certificates now - it was the contract within that bound. The realization that you loved someone, and you would do anything for them.
Anything.
He was bound.
Robert pulled out a set of crayons, and started to write. It felt important that he wrote it with crayons, because it was just a piece of paper, and it meant nothing. The physical evidence of a fact they were both well aware of.
Mildred Kercher and Robert Morris are together. 3.1.2014
It was just a piece of paper - maybe not as fancy as the first, but just as meaningful. She was his life, now. His family. His.
The idea of telling her all of the thoughts that had gone into the marriage certificate made him laugh, because it was all so absurd. Even marriage as an institution seemed absurd, because nothing in Deus was normal, anymore.
But he gave it to her anyway, with a kiss and a very absurdly solemn I do. And he did. Even if it was just a piece of paper.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 10:13 pm
51. Curse
She used to be able to fly. It was one of the few things she could actually remember; one of the few memories she still possessed. The sensation of flying. Lifting her weight up using the strength of the giant wings that no longer existed. In golem form, they were virtually useless - she knew she wasn't the same inside as she'd once been. But she remembered.
Her hunter was growing up. Jezebel didn't know exactly when she realized it, but it frustrated her when the thought came. She'd been relying so hard on his immaturity to be the catalyst for his death. Her freedom. There had to be a way, right? She couldn't focus on the fact that she didn't know how it would happen. All Jezebel knew right now was that she wouldn't be his slave anymore, if he was dead. And maybe, just maybe, she would be free.
She wanted to fly again. He was her anchor, but he wasn't sinking fast enough, and she was starting to worry that the chain would never break. Patience ws never her virtue, but her other options were getting dimmer and dimmer.
At least humans didn't last forever.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 11:19 pm
39. Sleep
True exhaustion was a fairly new experience for him. He'd always worked hard and tired himself out, but before the grueling hours of infirmary work coupled with constant studying, he knew exhaustion much more distantly. Now, it was a close friend, always wrapped around his hunched shoulders and pressed against his eyelids. And along with it came another new experience; one that made all the hard work worth it. The bone deep contentment of Mimsy's quiet, steady breathing against his skin every single night. She was always there. Always.
He'd forgotten how to sleep without her.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 4:15 am
52. Equals
The words were starting to blur on the page. His eyes were watery from reading so hard, so intensely, that he'd almost finished a whole chapter. Tissue regeneration. He was so bored. So warm, and sleepy, and bored. The only thing stopping him was the curled up body pressing against his back. She was sitting on his pillow, and keeping him sitting up. No naps, she'd said - both verbally, and physically with her body.
He was proud that he'd gotten to the point where her body didn't automatically distract him from focusing at all. And he'd done it - a whole chapter! He'd have to read it again later to try and understand all the garbage he'd missed, but progress was progress, no matter how slow.
Her voice surprised him, because she'd been so adamant about keeping him on task. His head turned, staring down at the slick glossy black hair at the top of her head, and blinked away the sleepy tears to try and understand what she was referring to. It took only a few seconds - maybe his brain was already all pumped up and working from studying - but he got it. He sucked in a breath when he figured out what she was asking, and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
"It's just another formality. You don't have to, if you don't want to, I won't be sad." His body half-turned, and his book slid out of his lap to fall closed on the bed. Forgotten, because she was all that mattered.
"It's up to you. 'Cause me, I like you just the way you are."
Damn, but Mimsy Morris sounded so good in his head.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 4:28 am
19. Trust
He wouldn't understand it, and that was for the best. But Robert still decided that he wanted to do something for Lucky, now that he was, for all intents and purposes, his brother-in-law. He'd always thought of Lucky that way, from the moment Mimsy had told him that they were siblings. And he'd seen it, in the way Lucky treated her. He knew Lucky would never abandon her, or give up.
And he knew that was exactly what Mimsy needed. It felt so good to be able to trust at least one other person to be there for her unconditionally, because it was a full time job, and Robert never wanted her to be alone.
He'd always wanted a little brother.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 4:35 am
76. Rewarding
Lucky let them stay in his room as long as they needed, which was cramped and imposing and just altogether too nice of him. Robert had a lot to be thankful for, but he was focusing on his little brother right now.
So he started scrounging, getting runic batteries and Life lab scraps anywhere he could. He didn't make anything out of them, he just wrapped them all up in a bag and left them on Lucky's bed.
Then he vaccuumed. Because he and Mimsy were kind of a mess.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 7:40 am
26. Food
The task was simple. Make the world's best sandwich.
He'd done it a million times before - or so he'd thought. After all, replicating an old sandwich was never going to be a victory. He had to surpass it, every time. This, however, was the most important time of all.
He'd gathered all the ingredients he needed using one leave day to visit multiple shops. He came through heavy with bags, as if he was going to cater a party. But he wasn't.
Just one sandwich.
It took several tries. Delicious, filling failures. Trying to create a perfect sandwich meant making and eating several imperfect ones - he loved this hobby!!
But eventually, after lightly toasting a sandwich on a small piece of chain links, using an iron, and flipping it around so the cheese that was bubbling on the top of the bread didn't stick, he felt ready. As promised, it was a thick sliced brie melted across the top of both layers of the sandwich. Within it had fresh spring greens and olive oil pressed protectively under the meat to keep it from getting too warm, and practically burned and bubbly against the top of the bread of the triple decker was a light expression of melted mozarella. When it cooled, he placed it on a plate, with a single piece of apricot gently laid right on top, and sprinkled honey roasted almond slices on the side of the plate.
It was his Mona Lisa. And he couldn't eat it.
So he stared at it for ten minutes, and hoped to God she'd let him have a bite.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 7:17 pm
32. Reward
"Count t'ten for me Bobby." His mother was cutting his hair, holding the pieces of the long, unkempt flyaway platinum blonde up to the light and then snipping away unevenly. He'd been squirming and fussing, staring out the window with palpable longing. Just outside, two sun kissed little girls were screaming at each other as they played in the fields.
"Mommaaaaa." He wanted to be free, he wanted to be done with his stupid haircut and burst outside to join them in the sun. But his mother had waited long enough, and Robert's hair had almost reached his shoulders in length. If he hadn't been such a big boned boy, he could have been mistaken for a girl.
"Hush now child, count t'ten for y'motha." Her thick, warm accent always reminded him of sugar and molasses, or cookies and cream. And it always made him hungry, because she was always ready to feed him. So he settled down, but his big, wide eyes continued to stare out the window with desire.
"One.. Two.. Four-"She cuffed him over the head, and without complaint, he started over. "One.. Two.. Three.. Four.. F...our.."
But eventually, he got it. She was done with the haircut by the time he reached 10, and she picked up a freshly baked cookie, putting it directly into his mouth. Longing turned into instant happiness as the sweet treat and the meaning behind it appeased him.
She only gave him cookies when he was a good boy.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 7:34 pm
41. School
No one really liked to look him in the eye, but he never blamed them. It was no one's fault. The kids were too small and the teachers too big and no one was ever just right. He had a friend, his first guy friend, when he was 8 and the boy was 12 and they wanted him to play football. He loved it, because it made him feel useful and wanted and normal - but he really wasn't.
They would talk about girls and he'd feel the knot of disgust in his stomach, but he never spoke up about it. He was just too young and too dumb to understand that they were at a vital cusp of growth, and he was still in the sweet flush of innocence and youth.
Classes became harder and harder to focus on, because no one in his own class ever talked to him anyway. Hanging out with kids that old just made him untouchable and dangerous.
So he became dangerous, because they told him that was what he was supposed to be. The small became the weak, and the weak became the enemy.
He gave his first wedgie when he was 10, to a high school freshmen who was picking up his little brother. And his friends appreciated his torment, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
But even they called him a freak behind his back, because no one ever trusted that retarded monster sized kid anymore.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 7:57 pm
97. Anger
Only half of the bleachers were filled, but the fans were loud and devoted and made him feel like he was playing to a full crowd because they cared. They cared about the team, about the game, about the players, about the victories and failures and about him, the freshmen who'd been drafted for left tackle and defensive end, shutting out any other competitors easily. They loved a good freak story, and he was the freakiest. But they loved him most because off the field he was just a big, dumb oaf, and that had somehow become endearing once high school rolled around. They didn't know better. Adults rarely do.
The championships were just two wins away, but the coach blamed that primarily on their star quarterback, and his skills. Robert wasn't looking to be the best, he got exactly what he wanted out of his football team - a family. He was an important part of a machine, and that machine was working really well.
He loved football, because it loved him. That was the only reason.
She said she was going to watch the game, today. He told her exactly where he wanted her to sit. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, but he still didn't understand why he wanted a girlfriend. It was just what he was supposed to want, what he was supposed to do. She was going to graduate next year, anyway - so he never thought too hard about it.
He loved her, because she loved him. That was the only reason.
Crouched down beside the quarterback, he prepared to get sent down and bash through any obstacles that came in his teammates way, but he never made it very far. When the ball was hiked, Robert never moved from his spot.
The bleachers were only half full, that day. He could see under them. He could see her, and him.
Later on that day, when his senses returned and he could think again, someone had told him that there had been a recruit in the stands, there to see Billy's quarterback performance. All he'd actually gotten to see was a left tackle run into the stands and smash his fist into the fact of some poor idiot until he'd been unrecognizable. Billy never got a call from the recruit, and Robert never forgave himself for ruining Billy's chances at a scholarship.
He'd disappointed his family. That was his greatest regret.
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