*achoo sniffle sniffle*

[maderr]

King's Island rocked. Love and hugs to Sarah's mom for getting us the season passes. S & I did every coaster in the park in...b/t 4-5 hours, and that's with veering off for a couple of water rides, snack break, and a couple of small rides. Maybe two of the rides total had what could be called lines.

Fav rides were the Vortex and Beast. They fucking rocked. Loved them loved them. Son of Beast though...ugh I had a headache for like an hour afterwards. It was way too rough to be much fun. All the other rides were though! Except for the really annoying chick on the rapids ride who kept yelling at her boyfriend about how pissed she be if she got wet (on a ride that gaurantees you'll get wet - WTF???). We were utterly exhausted by the time we got home and my allergies are still out of whack but it was def worth it. That park kicks. There was the cutest kid on face/off, he was all excited about finally being big enough to ride the coasters and got a kick out of the fact that we all screamed and he didn't. His mom seemed really cool, and I just wanted to hug him. It's so rare to see good kids these days, most of them need a swift kick.

On a side note, I don't seem to be terrified of heights anymore. The "omg this is high GET ME DOWN NOW" seems to have vanished entirely. I guess jumping out a plane really is an effective way of curing one's fear of heights. That was the theory...I'm rather pleased it worked.




Interviews suck. More deep and undying gratitude to Sarah's mom for hauling me all over town. Had two of the bitches today, fucking ugh. It's rather sad that the whole bazillion interviews thing is running gag amongst the workers. Ah well, I'm really really REALLY hoping to hear by the end of this week or early next week on where I'm going to be placed. I don't see where else I could possibly go for an interview. I'm pushing for Ethicon b/c it works out to be the best/most convenient place to work but Luxicor doesn't look too bad either. I guess we'll see.



In other news, if I'm being slow to comment/reply/whatnot, it's b/c my email all of a sudden won't let me write replies, even when I say 'reply at page,' which means it's rather difficult for me to comment at the moment. I'm thinking my computer is telling me "better start savin' bitchtastic."

Spring needs to die die die. My eyes are sore to hell & back and that's only the start. I'm damned close to attempting the stupid thing and trying some sort of medicine. I know I'll regret it so I'm trying to resist temptation but narg.

Enough whining, back to writing. To make up for the whining (and so I feel accomplished) here are some snippets from the three stories currently open on my computer - two shorts and one series. *achoo*



The Miller's Cat

"This is just great," Milford looked bitterly at the orange cat bathing beside him. "My brothers get the fortune, I get the damn cat. Never mind I was the one that did all the work in that damn mill." He kicked at the cobblestone beneath his feet. Usually sitting beside the fountain in the town square cheered him up - he loved to listen to the water and watch all the people bustling by - but at the moment it only depressed him further.

His miserly father had left him the cat. All the hours running the mill when his father was too sick and his brothers too busy and it was his brothers who were sitting pretty while he was desperately trying to figure out how he was going to eat. He couldn't even handle thinking about where he was going to live.

Because of course the first thing to go when his brothers took over the mill was the half brother they had never more than tolerated. "Life is rather a rotten state of affairs," he said to the cat. "At least for me. You may just want to just run off cat, I certainly can't take of you."

"My name isn't cat, it's Idris."

"Well excuse me. You may just want to leave Idris. What the hell?!" Milford screeched and leapt to his feet. He glared at the orange tabby staring back at him, then shook his head. "I didn't realize I'd finally lost my mind. Talking cats…"

"You haven't lost your mind," the cat replied with a sigh. "I am indeed a talking cat."

Milford looked around frantically at the people moving to and fro across the square - other than a few stares for his peculiar behavior no one seemed to be paying him any mind. He sighed and slowly sat back down, frowning at the cobblestones. "Funny, I always thought losing my mind would feel different. I feel fine. OW!" He glared at the cat, "What was that for?" He caught himself, "Great, now I'm talking back."

"Knock it off or I'll claw you again," Idris said sharply. "You have not lost your mind. I am a talking cat. And if you'll stop acting like a fool, I can help you acquire a great fortune."

A minute or so passed in silence as Milford simply stared at the cat. "A great fortune? Why on earth would you do that? Are my brothers pulling some great prank on me again?"

"Your feather-headed brothers couldn't manage a trick like me, I assure you. They're too busy counting the gold that they'll most likely fritter away in a matter of days. I can get you a great fortune, if only you'll do one small thing for me."

At this Milford finally relaxed. "A bargain? That makes sense. But you should know better than anyone that I'm incredibly poor. I barely have enough money for food, there's nothing I can give you that is worth a 'great fortune.'"

The cat sat back, tale swishing behind him as he looked seriously up at the young man who was his owner. "I'd like a pair of boots. Nothing fancy, just simple black leather will be fine."

Milford blinked, "Boots? You want a pair of boots? Can cats wear boots? Why do--" He stopped as the cat stretched up to place a paw on his mouth.

Sitting back down the cat twitched his ears, "I can't tell you, so you may as well not bother asking. But I promise that if you'll get me the boots I'll gladly see to it you're rich in just a few weeks time."

Tilting his head in thought, Milford examined the feline. Finally he gave a sigh, "Well, why not? It's not as if I have anything to lose, right? And I can always forage for food in the forest. Boots for a cat can't cost too much. C'mon, let's go get you some shoes. Walk or ride?"

"In this crowd? If you don't terribly mind I'd much prefer the ride."

"All right then," Milford carefully picked up the cat and held it close to his chest as he stood. "Off to the shoemaker's."


Handcuffs

"Ah..um…ex-excuse me. You..um…you dropped your handcuffs."

Peter turned around at the sound of the soft, shy voice that stood out simply because it was so quiet in a building full of noise. He blinked, absently stretching out his hand to accept the handcuffs. "Thanks." The boy looked about his own age - sixteen. The guy was distinctly out of place in an area that was usually dominated by the 'rougher' youths in the area. Instead of the blacks, reds, and metal of the rest of the crowd, the stranger was dressed entirely in soft blues and greens. Even his hair was unaltered; just messy blond curls flopping around his face. Peter was intrigued.

"Your welcome," the soft man smiled hesitantly, then turned and vanished into the crowd before Peter could think to stop him.

Frowning at his own idiocy Peter shrugged and turned back to his friends, "So have we decided what we're doing the rest of the night?"

"Yeah, we're going to that club on West." A man covered in more chains than cloth answered him.

"Mack, we're not old enough to get into the club on West. You know that. Why don't we just go see a movie or something?" His tone was sharper than necessary but Peter realized he didn't care. He was getting fed up with it.

His friends were clearly getting fed up with him. A girl in tight leather and shredded lace glared at him, "Because that's boring. We came out tonight to party, not to go see a fucking movie. What's with you, lately Pet? Lately you're nothing but a damned killjoy."

"Fine. Then I'll leave. I didn't really want to come out tonight anyway." Turning on the heel of his heavy boot, Peter threw himself into the crowd in an effort to get lost as quickly as possible. He ignored the wails of protest, picking up his pace as the crowd thinned so his friends wouldn't catch him. "They can find another ride, too." Angrily he clomped through the parking garage, fumbling through half a dozen pockets before coming up with his keys.

He realized he was still gripping his handcuffs in his left hand and suddenly recalled the boy who'd returned them. "Wish I'd gotten his name at least. Not that he really looked like I would be his type. Fuck it." Tossing the handcuffs into the passenger seat he clicked his seatbelt into place and slowly negotiated his way out of the parking garage.


Paradise

"I really enjoyed dinner," the woman purred through lips that Xavier personally thought were way too red. They resembled something from a bad vampire movie. Or maybe she really does suck blood he thought sourly. Certainly not the first lady of supposed class to turn out to be a bloodsucker.

Gracefully he rose to his feet, smoothing the front of his charcoal suit as he offered her a deep nod. "I am glad to hear it. Now if you will forgive me, I am afraid I am as always pressed for time. I would linger if I could." Could as in over my dead body.

Dismay flickered over the woman's face, "But Xavier, I thought perhaps we'd go dancing." She rose and glided over to him, twinning her arms around one of his, "Or maybe for a quiet walk on the beach…"

"Miss Branch, do you honestly think there is a single stretch of beach that could be described as quiet anywhere on this island?" Xavier carefully disentangled himself. Damn clingy types. I really wish I could locate a "don't touch me" spray of some sort. "And as I have already stated, I must get back to work. If you'll excuse me," he turned to leave.

The woman stamped her foot, rather an ineffective gesture given she was wearing high heals and standing on a plush carpet. "Work, work, work! That's all you ever do anymore, Xavier. Just wait until I tell daddy about this, you'll never get your contract."

Xavier froze, tensing visibly. The woman smirked, but it faded into fury at his words. "Tell your father that if he honestly thinks I need to do business with a man who's only selling point is his aggravating, ninny-hammered daughter,then he's clearly not half as intelligent as I had thought he was. I treated you to dinner as a courtesy, Miss Branch, nothing more. Good night."

Steps sharp and quick on the marble tiles of the main foyer, Xavier made for the elevators that would carry him to the top levels of Paradise Tower. Tiredly he leaned his forehead against the cool metal of his private elevator. Several deep breaths later he felt somewhat calmer and slightly more awake. He glanced at his watch. I can't believe it's already after eleven…that twit talked longer that I thought she would. And now I've probably horribly offended Branch…screw it, father can just appease him on the golf course on Sunday. I can stroke the feathers of only so many pampered birds.

"Ninny-hammered, Ex?" A woman asked in a teasing tone as he exited the elevator onto the floor that housed his private offices. "What are you, twelve?"

Xavier glared, "Connie, how in the hell could you already know?"

Connie smiled, "Most of the restaurant heard you, ninny. It took Bess all of two seconds to call and tell me." She paused as the phone beeped, speaking in quick, precise manner to the caller. "No, I'm afraid he's gone for the night. Yes, sir. I'll relay the message. Thank you." She resumed snapping her gum, "And it would appear 'daddy' wants to speak to you about his princess. If it's any consolation, he sounds like he wants to strangle her more than you."

Rolling his eyes Xavier resumed walking toward his office.

Comments

[jolena.livejournal.com]

Medicine is the devil! Do not give in to temptation!

[raielchan.livejournal.com]

I always found the roughest rides to the be the Racers and the Beast. Son of Beast no problem.
Of course, the more one sits on the front-most seats the smoother the ride. This is why I prefer to sit in the front seats now, very front if possible. Vortex is still my favorite.

[487.livejournal.com]

idris is a turkish name for a male :D