Joyeux Noel!
Dec. 25th, 2008 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lesmisloonyI GOT A DISCO BALL FOR CHRISTMAS YOU GUYS.
Also a pretty jacket and some other stuff, but mostly omg disco ball.
And I never finished that Christmas story, but here's another creative writing assignment of funtimes and stuff. This was when Richmond was weird and bitter about his childhood. He's more chill now. As is Julian. Obvs. Also, Richmond's voice changed, um, A LOT.
Also, when I turned this in the creative writing professor said it didn't make sense and needed more concrete details and he didn't really know what was going on, but I remain convinced that there's plenty of information there. In fact, because he failed to understand this story, I think he's probably a bit slow. That is all.
In the silence of the nursery two men appeared. It would have been tempting to say that they had entered silently or crept in under the cover of shadows, but the fact of the matter is that one moment no one was there and then there they were, the taller, thinner one clutching the shoulders of his companion with whitening knuckles. He wasn’t just thin, but too skinny for his height, dressed in a greyish sweater and blue jeans, floppy brown hair in his eyes and a layer of scruff covering his narrow chin. “We shouldn’t be here.” He whispered the words as though the air around him was fragile.
“I know,” his companion answered. He was elegant and pale, with round blue eyes, pronounced cheekbones, and black hair that hugged his scalp and fell just past his shoulder blades. His clothes were eccentric: a ruffled emerald shirt, dark pinstriped trousers, and white boots with a bit of a stacked heel, all partially hidden beneath a Victorian opera cloak. “Julian,” he was saying in a gently chiding tone; he pried the other man’s fingers from his arms. “There’s no other way.”
The thinner man nodded and pulled back, discomfort twisting through his angular features as his companion moved purposefully toward the two cribs at the far wall.
“Hang on,” the calmer one whispered, peering into the nearest crib. He looked back up at Julian with a smile. “This little guy looks familiar.”
“Please, Richmond, please, please, please don’t move him. Don’t even touch him.”
“I wouldn’t,” Richmond said, leaning casually on the rail of the crib. “What would happen if you touched him, then? Some sort of paradox, right?”
“It would ruin everything. It would shatter the fourth dimension or… something.”
“Right.” Richmond took a step back. “You know, in books people always said it would make you go blind.”
A pause. “What? What makes you go blind?”
“Touching yourself.”
Julian gaped at him. “You’re making a joke? You? After everything we’ve seen and what we’re about to do?”
“All right, I was just trying to calm you down, you berk.”
“Unbelievable. The absolute worst moment of my existence and suddenly Richmond’s making a joke. Maybe reality’s already gone! Maybe we don’t have to do anything at all!”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Richmond hissed. The infant boy was wriggling unhappily in his sleep; in the adjacent crib, the baby girl was blinking at the intruders with suspicious brown eyes. “Julian, look. She’s awake.”
The other man had backed completely against a wall, a layer of sweat on his brow half-illuminated by the strip of light from under the door. “She’s okay,” he murmured; it wasn’t clear whether the words were a question.
Richmond moved toward her crib and propped his arm on the rail, meeting the baby’s sleepy gaze. “She doesn’t know me yet, does she? We’re the same age, so I must still be out there,” he gestured in the direction of the distant manor gates and the world beyond, “with the rest of the paupers.”
“Richmond—”
“No, no, I was the lucky one. The perfect age to be your live-in playmate, pet to the doctors’ children.” He paused for a moment. “Where are we taking her, anyway?”
Julian, having taken one shaky step toward the cribs, was motionless again but for the rising and falling of his thin chest as he tried to steady himself. “Somewhere safe. Just somewhere safe. We’ve got to hide her. We’ve got to make sure she’s safe, that she’ll be okay.”
“Listen, mate, we’re already here, yeah? Can’t you relax? I’ve never seen you like this.”
“You know what I’ve never seen, Richmond?” Julian snapped, one hand scrunching nervously through his brown hair. “Before tonight? I’ve never seen blood before tonight! Paper cuts in the library are one thing, but actual blood. My sister’s blood, Richmond, is— I don’t want that to happen, d’you understand? We can’t let that happen.”
His voice was too loud now. Both of the children were staring at him and somewhere below a door slammed. Richmond glanced toward the hallway and, in a quick motion, scooped the baby girl into his arms.
The moment he touched her both his companion and the infant boy cried out. Julian stumbled a bit as though he’d been punched and he staggered forward, seizing Richmond’s shoulders again. “It’s changing,” he said, “it’s all changing. And I can feel it! What do we—? Where can she—?”
“What about France?” Richmond asked, and Julian’s pallid face broke into a grateful smile.
The door sprang open a moment later as the nursemaid entered with one of the security guards, but all she found was the little boy, wailing inconsolably. Sophie’s crib was empty.
Also a pretty jacket and some other stuff, but mostly omg disco ball.
And I never finished that Christmas story, but here's another creative writing assignment of funtimes and stuff. This was when Richmond was weird and bitter about his childhood. He's more chill now. As is Julian. Obvs. Also, Richmond's voice changed, um, A LOT.
Also, when I turned this in the creative writing professor said it didn't make sense and needed more concrete details and he didn't really know what was going on, but I remain convinced that there's plenty of information there. In fact, because he failed to understand this story, I think he's probably a bit slow. That is all.
In the silence of the nursery two men appeared. It would have been tempting to say that they had entered silently or crept in under the cover of shadows, but the fact of the matter is that one moment no one was there and then there they were, the taller, thinner one clutching the shoulders of his companion with whitening knuckles. He wasn’t just thin, but too skinny for his height, dressed in a greyish sweater and blue jeans, floppy brown hair in his eyes and a layer of scruff covering his narrow chin. “We shouldn’t be here.” He whispered the words as though the air around him was fragile.
“I know,” his companion answered. He was elegant and pale, with round blue eyes, pronounced cheekbones, and black hair that hugged his scalp and fell just past his shoulder blades. His clothes were eccentric: a ruffled emerald shirt, dark pinstriped trousers, and white boots with a bit of a stacked heel, all partially hidden beneath a Victorian opera cloak. “Julian,” he was saying in a gently chiding tone; he pried the other man’s fingers from his arms. “There’s no other way.”
The thinner man nodded and pulled back, discomfort twisting through his angular features as his companion moved purposefully toward the two cribs at the far wall.
“Hang on,” the calmer one whispered, peering into the nearest crib. He looked back up at Julian with a smile. “This little guy looks familiar.”
“Please, Richmond, please, please, please don’t move him. Don’t even touch him.”
“I wouldn’t,” Richmond said, leaning casually on the rail of the crib. “What would happen if you touched him, then? Some sort of paradox, right?”
“It would ruin everything. It would shatter the fourth dimension or… something.”
“Right.” Richmond took a step back. “You know, in books people always said it would make you go blind.”
A pause. “What? What makes you go blind?”
“Touching yourself.”
Julian gaped at him. “You’re making a joke? You? After everything we’ve seen and what we’re about to do?”
“All right, I was just trying to calm you down, you berk.”
“Unbelievable. The absolute worst moment of my existence and suddenly Richmond’s making a joke. Maybe reality’s already gone! Maybe we don’t have to do anything at all!”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Richmond hissed. The infant boy was wriggling unhappily in his sleep; in the adjacent crib, the baby girl was blinking at the intruders with suspicious brown eyes. “Julian, look. She’s awake.”
The other man had backed completely against a wall, a layer of sweat on his brow half-illuminated by the strip of light from under the door. “She’s okay,” he murmured; it wasn’t clear whether the words were a question.
Richmond moved toward her crib and propped his arm on the rail, meeting the baby’s sleepy gaze. “She doesn’t know me yet, does she? We’re the same age, so I must still be out there,” he gestured in the direction of the distant manor gates and the world beyond, “with the rest of the paupers.”
“Richmond—”
“No, no, I was the lucky one. The perfect age to be your live-in playmate, pet to the doctors’ children.” He paused for a moment. “Where are we taking her, anyway?”
Julian, having taken one shaky step toward the cribs, was motionless again but for the rising and falling of his thin chest as he tried to steady himself. “Somewhere safe. Just somewhere safe. We’ve got to hide her. We’ve got to make sure she’s safe, that she’ll be okay.”
“Listen, mate, we’re already here, yeah? Can’t you relax? I’ve never seen you like this.”
“You know what I’ve never seen, Richmond?” Julian snapped, one hand scrunching nervously through his brown hair. “Before tonight? I’ve never seen blood before tonight! Paper cuts in the library are one thing, but actual blood. My sister’s blood, Richmond, is— I don’t want that to happen, d’you understand? We can’t let that happen.”
His voice was too loud now. Both of the children were staring at him and somewhere below a door slammed. Richmond glanced toward the hallway and, in a quick motion, scooped the baby girl into his arms.
The moment he touched her both his companion and the infant boy cried out. Julian stumbled a bit as though he’d been punched and he staggered forward, seizing Richmond’s shoulders again. “It’s changing,” he said, “it’s all changing. And I can feel it! What do we—? Where can she—?”
“What about France?” Richmond asked, and Julian’s pallid face broke into a grateful smile.
The door sprang open a moment later as the nursemaid entered with one of the security guards, but all she found was the little boy, wailing inconsolably. Sophie’s crib was empty.
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Date: 2008-12-25 04:06 pm (UTC)Your icon. hahahaha.