The Valkyrie.

Explain the emptiness.

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 02:30:37 GMT

WORRY NOT. THESE OLD POSTS WILL SOON BE REPLACED.

I plan on posting bits and pieces from the novel I'm writing with my friend here -- just my parts. Hers with permission.

Also, fictions will end up here at some point. It won't be empty forever, I swear!

Writer's Block: Heart to Heart

Sun, 15 Feb 2009 07:03:02 GMT

Valentine's Day: love it or hate it?

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Hate it!
This is consumerism at it's finest!
Not only that, but it's a reminder for singles that they're lacking a significant other, and it usually ends up in a depressive bout of snarfing ice cream on the couch and watching sappy movies on TV.

Excuse me if I don't buy in on all that. HA! I made a pun.

I could ramble on about this for hours. I just, typically choose not to. And now is not the time for it.

Alright, guys. I need your help.

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 17:03:35 GMT

Could you, maybe, for once, just sign something because it's for the greater good?

This is for the health of a singer/songwriter named Gabe Saporta of the bands Midtown and Cobra Starship. He has a cyst on his vocal chords. This could severely damage them permanently if the stubborn ass doesn't STOP TOURING and get surgery. I would rather he think of himself and get medical help, than think of the fans and ruin his voice. Unfortunately, he's too stubborn to listen to the reason of his bandmates. Maybe he'll listen to his fans. Below is a petition I need you all to sign. Don't do it for me, but do it for a great vocalist, and, probably the most stubborn man we may ever meet.

http://www.petitiononline.com/fangsup/petition.html

Thank you guys for taking the TWENTY SECONDS it takes to do this. It's much appreciated, not only by me.

My thoughts you can't decode.

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 01:00:08 GMT

Installment TWO of Headfirst Slide.
Title: Headfirst Slide.
Rating: Oh, you're funny. Adult content means, what? Yeah, not under 17, unless you're okay with reading gore, language, and sex.
Author: -.-; Who's typing here?
Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN SHI- Wait; yes, I do. ^.^; Araceli Monroe is MINE; so is her family; so are the various NON-BAND MEMBERS posted here within; so's the idea that the band(s) aren't quite human.
Characters: You should read the FIRST TWO (One post down; and then the other is "If You're A Man at All."), before reading this one, but, whatever. Gabe Saporta, Araceli Monroe (she's 26, by the way), William Beckett, and various other people.
Pairings: Araceli|Gabe;
Synopsis: You don't get one. =] Read on. It's RIDICULOUS how long this thing is. And I highly doubt this is the last you'll hear of this pair.

Now that Will had brought up how he and Araceli had met, Gabe couldn't quite stop thinking about how things had happened that night, and beyond. He couldn't even hear William, pleading silently under his breath, for Gabe to let him rip the funny drunk man to pieces.

The motorcycle was purring like a kitten in the background, as the young woman stood staring at him, her blue-grey hues dark, and her head slightly bowed so she was peering at him through her eyelashes, cowed. She was apologizing, explaining herself, her hands gesturing as she spoke. "-and it's just... pretty much the worst week ever."

"Bad week, huh? I'm sorry. Hey, what's your name, Bonita?"

The young woman blinked, her face a mask of confusion. "My name?" She balked, and then sputtered a reply. "Araceli." She said, and shaking her head, started back toward her bike, throwing a leg over it, and revving the engine.

"Hey, wait a second. Where are you going?" He admitted, it was a lame line, and it didn't work, but he was drunk, and could think of nothing better to say to her.

She paused, slipping her glasses on, and smirking gently. "For a ride. Why?"

"Will I see you again?"

"If you're lucky. This is a small enough city, if you know where to look."

"Where do I look?"

"If you're smart, you'll figure it out." And with that, she peeled out of the parking lot on one wheel, tire squealing as she disappeared around the corner. He wouldn't forget the make of the bike, or the sound of the engine for future reference, just in case there was no Araceli listed at the party.

According to Ryland, there was no Araceli, but there was a name on the list, an A. Monroe, and she did own a turboed Hayabusa. Unfortunately, there was no address listed.

"C'mon, Gabe. How many Araceli's could there possibly be?" Ryland offered, and took another drink of his vodka. "Google her."

The advice might've worked, if he wasn't searching NEW YORK. There were far more Araceli's than he anticipated. It took him a week to understand that finding someone who didn't want to be found was a very difficult thing to accomplish. But he managed fairly well. With a very relentless vampire, anything was possible.

He found Araceli at a firing range, at target practice. Someone at the autoshop she worked at mentioned she might be here, and she was, and by the looks of her target, she was more than a little pissed off. He stayed in the shadows, on the sidelines, watching carefully.

She placed the gun on the table before her, and removed the headphones that muffled the gunfire. "Hey Jack?" She called, grey-blue eyes flickering to her left. "Can I have another clip?"

"You're done, Monroe!"

"Damnit!" She picked up the Glock, and wandered back to the front, placing her gear on the table.

"Is your dad doin' okay, kiddo?"

Celi ran a hand through her hair, and shook her head. "He's stubborn, but, I don't think he's going to last too much longer." She said, and by her posture, she wasn't wanting to talk about it further; her back was ridgid, her left leg back, her foot turned out to move.

"Send him my regards, okay?"

"Sure thing." She nodded, and began to walk away.

"Monroe? There was someone here looking for you..."

"What'd you tell him?"

"That you'd eat him alive."

"You keep sayin' that." She grinned, and walked away, unaware that Gabe was just behind one of the shooting boxes, watching her. He chuckled darkly to himself, and shook his head. If only, if only, if only.

"Can I?! Gaaaabe!" Will was begging now, whimpering, prodding at Gabe's shoulder for attention.

"He's all yours." He sighed, leaning back against the alley wall. Was Celi alright? She had looked so haunted when she came outside. Her eyes were so dull, it scared him. There was another drunk man approaching, and his hunger overpowered him for a moment. He had to feed, or risk hurting Cel-belle, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did anything to her.

"Hi there. Um... I'm sorry to ask this, but, um, I need a little help."

"You're not my type." The words were slurred, as the man stumbled. With any luck, this man would be depraved; one no one would miss. When he was still mortal, Gabe would've done something like Jigsaw had done, if he thought he could possibly get away with it.

"I like... kids..." This was followed by a belch, and a hiccup, and a stagger about five feet away.

"Kids?"

"They're cute... y'know?"

"No." His voice was at the man's ear, his breath tickling the drunk's neck. "C'mere a minute, man. You need to sober up." There was no choice in the matter. The depraved did not deserve to live. For being so thin, Gabe was surprisingly strong, and the man was caught by the arms, pinned to the wall, Gabe's knee grinding into his spine. The noise coming from his throat wasn't even close to human. It was gutteral, and low, and to any human in the area, incredibly terrifying. Fangs dropping, Gabe sank them into the man's throat, ripping into flesh, tearing out the carotid, blood, rich and sweet filling his mouth. And for a moment, he couldn't remember who he was, or the girl who was waiting for him.

*****

Gabe was not the only person wandering down memory lane. Araceli was back in the apartment, curled in the recliner under a blanket, listening absently to her MP3 player. Her mind was elsewhere, tripping into memory, stumbling through the things she now knew were different, returning to the place where the memory was raw, and real.

She left the range after her conversation with Jack, still not completely at ease with herself or her anger. She stumbled down an alley, fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. With a noise that sounded vaguely animal, Araceli rammed her fist into a wall. The brick bit into her knuckles, tearing away flesh, leaving it raw and bleeding.

Her father was dying. She wasn't a match for his bone marrow - no one in her family was! - and he was running out of time, the prognosis grim. Her rock was faltering, being swept out to sea.

"FUCK!" She hissed, staring at her wounded hand. But she felt better.

"You lost, little girl?" The voice was not friendly; they were leering at her, and suddenly she could feel warm breath on her neck, hands groping her hips, fingers digging into her pelvis. She moved quickly, hooking her foot behind his knee and yanking, sending him onto his knees. Turning, she rammed her own knee into his jaw and then, planting her foot onto his chest, knocked him onto his ass.

"Get up." She sneered, the desire to rip him limb from limb nearly overpowering her better judgement, and instinct to leave. "On second thought, stay down. If you come near me again, you won't be living to talk about it."

She left the alley, her hands shaking uncontrollably. The threat wasn't entirely empty. Breathing heavily, she moved a little quicker down the street, head down.

"Araceli?" The voice seemed shocked to see her, though she couldn't quite place who it belonged to. Pausing, she looked up, and then stepped back, to get a better look, her eyes skeptical.

"...Gabe?" She muttered, in mild disbelief. How the hell he found her, she wasn't entirely sure. "How the bloody hell...?" She shook her head, and started walking again, pausing only when her phone began vibrating.

CELI. Dad wants you. Pretty much yesterday. WHERE ARE YOU?! He's not doing so well, in case you didn't know. And he's getting worse. HOME. NOW. Alan, her younger brother, was a grammar nazi. She blinked, swore, and then started running.

"Dad needs me. If you're coming, you better keep up. I ran track in High School." She called, ignoring the pain in her chest as her feet smacked the asphalt. She wasn't too far from home, and even though there was a rumble of thunder, Celi didn't care. She had to see her dad.

It took her fifteen minutes of solid sprinting to even get to her street. She did enjoy walking, when it was nice out. Running too, if she could handle it. Her hand smacked the door handle to her home, and she stumbled into the door as she tried to open it, Gabe accidentally running into her, unable to stop himself in time either. Neither had bothered with 'I'm sorry'. It wasn't locked, but the warped wood sometimes made the door stick. "Fuck you, you stupid door." She grumbled, thrusting her arm against it, and dislodging it from it's hold.

She was vaguely aware of someone behind her. He'd kept up. With his long legs, it didn't exactly surprise her. Looking back now, she realized he hadn't been breathing that hard...

"Dad? I'm home!" She said, poking her head into the secondary family room they had set up downstairs, in the basement. She had water in one hand, Gabe was behind her, - which, he shouldn't have been, she'd told him to wait!- and she was cautiously descending the stairs, hiding her wounded knuckles.

"Celi, where've you been?"

"Visiting Jack, Dad. He sends his regards." She cleared her throat and took a long gulp of water. "Did you need me for anything?"

"No, Cel, why?"

"Because Alan said you did."

"No, Araceli, I do not- who's that with you?"

"I'm Gabe, a, uh, friend of Araceli's."

"Oh, well, hi there." She watched her father grip Gabe's hand, and how weak the grip was. He was fading faster now. He didn't have much time left.

"I have a question, sir. If I may."

"Certainly."

"From what I know of your daughter, she is extremely stubborn, so, I am usurping her decision, and asking for yours. Can I take your daughter on a date?"

Araceli nearly choked on her water. "WHAT?!" She sputtered, completely dumbfounded. Was he serious? Asking her father, instead of her?

Her father, Rafe, chuckled, and nodded. "It's not up to me, but you do have my blessing."

"What are you doing?!" She hissed, staring daggers at Gabe, who looked severely smug. She was flustered. "You could have just asked me!"

"You would have said no."

"You don't know that!"

"Go change. You're going out, Araceli." Her father chuckled.

After that point, there was really no denying the chemistry, the tension, or the fact that Cel didn't mind being around him. It was October 31st, the day they first went out.

Her father died a week later.

Gabe came to the funeral, as did his band, out of respect for Araceli. She cried silently to herself all night. Most people couldn't claim to have been there for someone they cared for, when a loved one died, and stayed in the relationship. Gabe could. Araceli loved him more for that.

She shifted slightly in the recliner, and was surprised to feel a pair of hands tucking the blanket around her. "Nono, I'm awake." She mumbled, sitting up. "I was going to go to bed... really." She said, yawning.

"I know. C'mon, I'll carry you." It was Gabe. And he did, laying her gently on the bed, and crawling in beside her. He had blood on his shirt, and his lips, and his hands, but he didn't care. He had remembered their first meeting, had remembered more little things about her that he'd grown so very fond of. Nestling her against him, he rested his chin on her head, his arm around her waist as they spooned in the bed.

The smell of her blood had driven him nuts at first, when he saw her walking home, but quelling that, he realized she was something special. Far more special than Bianca, or Victoria. She was flawed in ways he saw reflected in himself, and she was stronger than anyone had ever given her credit for. It was a gamble, this relationship. A headfirst slide into it had seemed to work.

"Cel?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you, babe."

"I know." She replied, and a moment later, she blinked. "You never asked what I ran track for... You were never the least bit curious?"

"Where's this coming from, Cel-belle?"

"Cel-belle? What the hell, Gabriel?"

"Just... go with it." He was laughing at her, nuzzling her neck, kissing her jawline to her lips.

"Well, why didn't you ask? Most people, it's the first thing outta their mouths."

"I was looking for you for about 2 weeks. Found a few people who knew you, said you were a killer distance runner. All-State, two years in a row, yes?"

"You were stalking me?"

"Hey, I wanted to see you again, Celi."

"You could've asked for my number."

"Would you have given it to me?"

"...probably not." She agreed, rolling over to face him. She wasn't used to seeing blood on his lips, but oddly, she wasn't put off by it. Her hand traced the side of his face, and her lips found his. A headfirst slide down a dark and winding road had lead to a rock she had a feeling would remain there; had led to someone she could love without limitations.

"Gabe..." She started, and then stopped, settling herself against his chest. He knew she loved him.

And then it hit her.

Where the hell was Bill.

"I left Bill downstairs... outside."

"But it's snowing!"

"And?" She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"He's not gonna be happy with you." She giggled.

"Eh. Fuck 'em. I'm with you." And he stayed that way for the rest of the night.

I Didn't-I didn't-I didn't-I don't.

Sat, 01 Nov 2008 21:45:16 GMT

Another "installment", even though it's a separate fic than "If You're A Man at All."
It's shorter. Shittier. And likely coming in parts.

Title: Headfirst Slide. [part one]
Author: Duh, dumbass.
Disclaimer: The only things I own are the ideas that Gabe and co are vampires; and I own Araceli Monroe.
Author's Note: Don't like how I write, you can kiss my sass.
Rating: PG-13, for the moment.

It was dark in the apartment, heavy, palpable hands that pressed eyes closed and paralyzed bodies onto beds. The only two left awake were Gabe and Araceli, and Araceli was fighting to remain that way. It was the last day Gabe would be home before going back on tour and she was determined to make it last.

Most people found her stubborn streak to be annoying. Gabe, however, found it adorable, a redeeming trait, except when she was being stubborn for stupid reasons like she was now. "Cel! Go to sleep!" This was the fourth time in five minutes, and he was growing tempted to smack her over the head.

"I'm fine." She yawned. She would be better if he would just let her turn on the tv.

"No, you're not. I'm not going to leave without saying goodbye. Go to sleep." He pulled her as close as he dared, trying to adjust them both so they wouldn't fall off the couch. Celi's response was to curl a little closer, and rest her head on his shoulder. A satisfied smile graced his features a moment later, as he heard Celi's breathing change, indicating that she was asleep.

Somewhere in the room, another pair of eyes flashed open. "She asleep yet?" It was William.

"Yeah, finally. I think she's still a little shaken up by the zombie incident." Gabe replied, shaking his head.

"She's more afraid of zombies than she is of you. That's funny."

"Hey! Don't start that shit." Gabe replied, shifting on the couch so Celi wouldn't fall off. "I'm not even remotely terrifying."

"Right! You're a friggin' teddybear! She's never seen you hunt"

"Will..."

"WHAT?! Honest-to-God-!"

"Will, I will beat your ass! Shove it!"

"Oh, don't pull that shit with me, Gabriel. We all know you're twisted. Cel just doesn't know how, though, she'd probably love it."

Gabe groaned. "Damnit, Will, are you trying to make me eat my girlfriend?"

"Fuck, no."

"Then shut the fuck up!"

There was a few minutes of silence, where Gabe toyed with Celi's hair as she slept, watching her. She shifted, and a troubled look crossed her features. He wished he knew what she was dreaming.

"Damnit, Max. Mom's gonna kill you." She muttered, and then settled back to sleep, her fingers twined around the necklace that hung between her breasts.

Max? Max was her cat. Her cat had died two months ago. A memory?

"Gabe?"

"What, Billvy?"

"I'm hungry."

"Your point?"

"Let's go out! Hunting, yes?" He sounded excited. That didn't bode well for Gabe, who sometimes couldn't keep the kid in line.

"What, now? It's three in the morning!"

"Bars are now closing... people are plastered..."

"Fuck. Fine. Just, give me a minute."

Leaving the couch was easy. Leaving Celi was what was difficult. He left a note, in case she woke up, telling her that he and will had gone out for a pack of smokes and would be back soon.

"Damnit, Gabriel. C'mon!"

The answering hiss immediately silenced Bill. Gabe could be scary, when he wanted to be. Thankfully for Gabe, Araceli hadn't seen that side of him yet. He tried not to think of the connotations that the word 'yet' implied.

Taking one last look at the unconscious Araceli, Gabe left, feet dragging behind him. He didn't like leaving her. With Celi, there was typically no drama, and she understood him most of the time, in ways most other people couldn't. She also didn't care that he was a fanged freak. She didn't care what he was, as long as he was okay. She had become his port in the storm in much greater ways than Bianca ever had-may she rest in peace.

"Earth to Gabe!" Billvy smacked Gabe's arm, sending him lurching from his mind. "You think too much, dude. Let's go!"

"I was just thinking about how Celi and I met..." Gabe muttered.

"I've been meaning to ask about that..."

"It's a long story. She tells it better."

"Damnit, just... tell me."

Gabe sighed, and shrugged his shoulders, as they kicked their way through the six inches of recent snow. "It was at Angels and Kings. We're not even sure how she got in, since it was a private party, but she was there, sitting in the back, nursing a glass of Jack Daniels, watching everyone. She was next to Suarez, Ryland, Brendon, Pete, Patrick, Ryan and I, in a different booth.

"I asked a question, that no one else knew the answer to, and she'd heard, and Celi just goes, "It was Stephen King, dumbass. Everybody knows that." And then she gets up, leaves $60 on the table, and walks out. I was just... dumbstruck. She had a lot of gall to even think of speaking to someone like that. And being curious, I gave chase.

"She was starting up a motorcycle when I got out to her, and revving the engine. She didn't even look up, when I approached. She just went, "Go away." And I said nothing to that. So, she gets off the bike, comes up to me, and goes, "Are you deaf? I said go away." Just completely ripping into me, and I didn't even do anything!"

"I then apologized." A voice said, from a few feet away. Celi's eyes were dark, haunted. "I explained that I was having what would turn out to be one of the worst weeks I ever had, and shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"Cel! What are you-?"

"I needed air. Had a nightmare. I'm surprised you didn't hear me screaming." She shrugged, and shook falling snow from her red and blonde hair. "Jesus, it's cold." Gabe could see the beads of sweat that danced along her brow, and her forehead.

"What were you dreaming?!" Bill asked, watching her sway.

"Fire." She whispered, voice hoarse. "My bike... I crashed, and then..." She shook her head. "It makes no sense. I don't crash my bike. That's like, my child." She paused, and shook her head again. "I'll go back in... I just needed air. I-.... Get back here safely, Gabe." She turned, and then shuffled back inside, following her own footprints.

"She gonna be alright?"

"She usually is. Listen, I want you to keep her safe, when I'm on tour, alright?"

"Why me?!"

"Because I can trust you over Brendon, ironically enough. Please?"

"Fine. FINE! Hey, look. A drunk!"

[To be continued. Yes, it's talk heavy. Sue me.]

Post Halloweenishness.

Sat, 01 Nov 2008 15:07:13 GMT

These kinda suck, but they're of me... mostly.
Just follow the cut....

Be aware, your eyes might burn out of their sockets at my ugliness.

I'm the chick. The one under "HERS". Yes, I was with Stupid. But he's my best friend, so, it's okay. :D

http://www.fleshmanphoto.com/santamariafri/ There are two photos of me there, if you can find 'em. AHAHA. -onlyonewithCobraon!-

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, YOU ASSHOLES!

>__>;
I meant that in the nicest way humanly possible for me. :D

Writer's Block: Costumes

Fri, 31 Oct 2008 15:03:58 GMT

We have to ask: What are you going to be for Halloween this year? And can we see a picture?

View 500 Answers

This is pretty lame, but I'm either going as a vampire, a zombie, or a Cobra Starship fan (LMFAO. I'm wearing my shirt todayyyyy. :D). Or, a combination of the two. xD AN UNDEAD STARSHIP FAN! :O!
But I don't want to ruin my shirt.

As for images? STFU. I don't want your eyes to burn out of your skulls. T__T;

If You're A Man At All...

Thu, 30 Oct 2008 00:36:40 GMT

That HALLOWEEN!CS fic I might've mentioned? It's become a HALLOWEEN!Gabe fic, gone horribly wrong. I will say, it involves the supernatural though. I keep seeing images where Gabe looks like he has fangs, and that just won't leave my head. Worry not; he's not a Meyerpyre. >_>;

This might get ~~a little~~ lengthy. And a bit retarded, but it's way too fun not to write. COMPILING TOO MANY IDEAS IS FUN! :D

Rating = PG-13 to R. Mostly for language. Some for gore.
Characters: Gabe Saporta/OC; Billvy/Vicky-T;

Title: What Kind of Man... If You're a Man at All.

Araceli was not happy with Gabe. He had been avoiding her all week. And that wasn't the worst thing about it. Halloween was their anniversary, damnit, and he said he'd be home to enjoy the day with her. And where was he? Somewhere else. It would be infuriating, if it wasn't friggin' typical.

Throwing herself onto the couch, Araceli Monroe turned on the tv set, and her PS2, and began to play her favorite game in order to blow off some of the anger that was pelting into her. A good zombie shoot-em-up was what she needed, and it was exactly what she got. Even though it wasn't the same without Gabe mocking the cries of the undead, or keeping a running commentary throughout her actions. They had done it the last time they'd thrown a "Horror bash", just before Warped Tour, and everyone was cracking up by the time the level was over. What with Gabe's ridiculous noises, and Celi's frantic shouts of, "FUCK! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, YOU FREAKIN'- SHIT, that was close.", there were people on the floor, laughing so hard they couldn't breathe.

Celi slogged her way through 2 levels in three hours, and just when she was thinking about calling it quits, she heard a shuffling at the front door. Grumbling to herself, she moved to the door, and peeked out. There stood Gabe, looking a little sicker than she remembered seeing him last. He also looked a little... dead. She opened the door.

"Uuuuuhn." The moan came unbidden, and startled Araceli for a moment.

"Not funny, Gabe. Really not funny." She muttered, shaking her head. "And you're 3 hours late." She folded her arms across her chest, and sighed. "You're not getting inside until you frickin' apologize."

The blank stare immediately dropped, and Gabe began sulking. "I'm sorry, Cel! My flight was delayed due to all this fucking snow." The rediculously low October temperatures were once again cursed as she stepped aside, and grudgingly let him in. When he saw the television screen, his jaw dropped, and then he began pouting. "You started without me!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you rather I took out the wall instead of a few hundred zombie brains?"

"Uh, no." He was immediately cowed. "So, Cel, what are the plans?"

"I dunno. I was thinking, since it's kinda special, to have Bill and Vicky over. Possibly. As long as Bill promises to behave. I do not want the armoire destroyed, again, considering it was a gift from my dad." She noticed Gabe's demeanor brighten with the mention of his best friend.

Forgetting himself for a minute, Gabe bounced on his toes. a little higher than most people, landing a little more fluidly than normal people, letting down his guarded walls, revealing a little something he'd been hiding for years. Celi, however noticed nothing, or, at least pretended not to notice anything. Sometimes with her, you couldn't tell. "Billvy? Really?"

"Jesus Christ, Gabe. You're more excited to see him, than you are to see me-!" CRASH!

There was the sound of squealing tires and bending metal, and the splatting of something organic outside, and Celi froze. "What the hell was that?" Her voice was a little higher than usual, and her hands were shaking.

Araceli Monroe was not known for being scared. That was part of the reason why Gabe fell for the woman. She was practically fearless. But that sound was something to be afraid of - death, in lieu of being squished, most likely by a car. By the sound of it, it was pretty shitty, and needed breaks, but it was big enough to flatten someone.

And then the screaming started. Howls, really, mostly of pain, as walking corpses began taking chunks out of people. Araceli had moved to the window, and was gripping the ledge with knuckles as ash white as the snow on the ground. After a few moments of adjusting her mind to the fact that there were zombies in the streets of New York, she moved from the window, to her room, to dig out a gift her father had left her months ago. She was startled to find Billvy and Vicky standing in the open apartment door, Gabe speaking in hushed tones to both of them.

Returning from her room, she threw herself back onto the couch, and began to load her shotgun, fingers moving deftly over the metal. Once that was done, she stood, and examined the gun.

"What the hell, Celi!" It was Will. "A shotgun? What for? We're safe here!"

"For how long, Will? A few hours? Days? I'm not taking that chance." With one hand, she cocked the shotgun, mind snapping back to years ago, when she'd go to the shooting range with her dad. If she was still the marksman now that she was then, then she had nothing to worry about. "Unless someone wants to try to blow something up, then then gun is all we have."

As if on cue, glass shattered, and someone downstairs screamed. The scream cut off into a wet sort of gurgle, that ceased as abruptly as it had started. "So, we have hours. Kinda figured something funky would happen on Halloween this year." She shrugged, and tucked her legs underneath her as she dropped back down onto the couch. "It's like I'm cursed. Dad died this time last year. My brother's garter snake choked on a mouse, and I get blamed for killing it, as if I ever would. And, let's not forget, le divorce." She was muttering now, rambling on, fighting to maintain control of her emotions. She wanted to hit something. Hard. Hard enough to feel the bones in her hand crunch.

Her head fell to her knees, and she took a long, deep breath, before picking up the controller, and reengaging herself in a game of virtual duck-shoot with a bunch of undead, singleminded corpses. When she ran out of ammo, she used her combat knife, her brain on autopilot, as her mind wandered aimlessly through dozens of scenarios on how the day would end.

After about an hour, her eyes closed, and her breathing evened out, as her body adjusted itself on the couch, lanky legs stretching out, head nestled into the crook of one arm, shotgun in the other, controller on her hip, the game paused. Images assaulted her mind, little things about Gabe, or Will or Vicky that she had noticed over the year that she had known them. Things that didn't add up.

As she slept, the trio watched her, statues frozen, eyes on her. "You think she knows?" It was Vicky, speaking for the first time.

Gabe hissed, his fangs dropping for the first time in a week. "I'm not stupid. I've made sure she's clueless." But had he been careful enough?

No one was supposed to know they existed, what they were, or what they did. The dead weren't supposed to associate with the living. But society was accepting of everyone - as long as you weren't openly gay - and the three seemed to fit right in. Aside from Bill and Gabe being ridiculously tall, no one really minded the fact that their skin was typically a few degrees cooler, or they were sometimes ridiculously hot. It was part of the reason they chose the life they did - in the public eye. They blended better there.

Araceli wasn't sleeping well. From his stance by the kitchen table, Gabe could see her shifting in her sleep, could hear her mumbling. It was part of her charm, the way she slept. She was so human. He watched her sleep sometimes, just to see through her facade. She was troubled.

Araceli was confused. Things weren't making sense, and they roused her from sleep. She needed to run, to clear her mind. To make sense of things.

The controller hit the floor first, then the gun. And suddenly, Araceli was off the couch, and running out the door, down the hall, down the steps, and out the door. And all she could see was what her dreams were prodding into her consciousness.

The street was empty. Vacant, aside from the tendrils of fog that curled from the ground around her ankles. There were distant moans, lurching figures, but none came close to her, even as her breathing slowed, and she stopped running, and turned back, rocking on her feet, eyes closed, trying not to think. She was confused. What were her dreams trying to say? They were always right, but always cryptic. A good run typically mended that, but not this time. What was going on?

"Holy SHIT, she's fast." Will was stunned by the speed in which she left the room.

"She said she ran track in High School. I kinda figured..." Gabe muttered, trailing off, moving after Billvy who had given chase. The moment he caught up to Araceli, he was stunned by the clear audacity of her actions, and her tone. This was a different person than he was used to interacting with.

She moved toward him, stood as close to him as she dared - which wasn't as close as he would have liked - and stared up at him, her 5'8" frame a stark contrast with his height. She didn't hold herself back when she spoke. "What are you?" There was absolutely no beating around the bush here. She was demanding an answer. "And do not play dumb with me, Gabe. I know when you're lying." She jabbed a finger into his stomach to make a point, her grey-blue hues not angry, but hurt.

"Gabe, don't!" Will hissed a warning that even Celi could hear. Vicky shook her head. She knew Gabe, knew he'd tell. Knew he'd ruin a good thing.

"Tell me, or I swear to you, I will get us all killed. Or at least myself." She stood still, watching the shambling undead milling about, drawing closer.

"I have no idea what you mean." Maybe, just this once, he could be a decent liar. Just this once he could hide something from Araceli.

"Bullshit, Gabe! You're not human! I keep noticing things, and they are not adding up. You fall down the stairs, and you never have so much as a bruise. You bounce a bit higher than most people, and there are other things I've seen that make no sense." She shook her head, and jabbed him in the stomach with a finger.

"We don't have time for this, Celi! Get inside!" All three of them said this at exactly the same time, noting the shambling bodies growing closer.

"NO! Not until you answer me. I want the truth Gabe, or so help me, I am gone."

"Celi! Now." His tone was a cold command, fingers reaching to grasp her arm.

Reacting in the only way she knew how, she jerked away, her other hand curling into a fist, reaching up to hit him in the jaw. "Don't." She growled, and stepped away, too hurt herself to say anything else.

"Ow!" He whined, rubbing the mark her rings had left. She turned to glare at him, and froze. Fangs. She saw fangs.

"No... way..." She breathed, heart thundering in her chest now. She'd been in love with what, a vampire? all this time? The odds had been astronomical. Those fangs had not been there when she had fallen asleep. But it explained everything. Sort of. She still didn't understand why he could walk in the light, why any of them could, but everything else about him suddenly made sense.

"What?" Gabe managed to look very confused while cursing himself for reacting that way.

"Don't play stupid. Your secret's out." She murmured, and suddenly her legs gave out from under her, a reaction to the stress, and to the stench of rotting, and burning flesh, the combination of smells pounding against her until she could stand it no longer. The movement was so quick, it didn't even jar her when she found herself in Gabe's arms. Her hand reached up to touch his face, her eyes soft. Time stood still. "I know what you are." She murmured again, and then pressed her lips to his, looping her arms around his neck.

He had never hurt her before. Had always been there for her. And she loved him more for that. Maybe, just maybe, it was okay to still love him.

"It's supposed to be a secret." Vicky moaned, and leaned against Will, a dispairing look on her face.

"As if I'd tell anyone." Araceli muttered. "'My boyfriend's a vampire!' Yeah, people'd really believe that. Jesus Christ." The apartment complex loomed before them half hidden in fog. A sad smile twisted her lips. "As long as you don't have to kill me now..."

"Kill you? Why?" Gabe's lips found her forehead, then her lips. He trusted her so completely now, he had no reason to keep secrets. He never broke her gaze, even as he carried her up the stairs, even as he toed open the door.

Setting her back onto the couch, Gabe dropped beside her, and Araceli immediately scrambled to fit herself against him. She now knew why he was sometimes distant, sometimes different, and always gentle. So maybe this Halloween - their anniversary - wouldn't be so bad.

"Hey, look! The zombies!" Will's voice cut through the moment and Araceli groaned.

"Not interested." Gabe muttered, his head resting against the back of the couch, Celi's head on his shoulder. She was curled in a ball, her eyes closed in contentment.

A moment later there was a sound, like a match being ignited, and then everything outside went up in fiery brilliance. There was a sound, like a sonic boom, and then, nothing but the movement of light from the dancing flames down the street, as the hordes of undead were engulfed and wreathed in flame. Definitely not a bad start to their anniversary.

"I love you, Gabe." Celi murmured.

"I love you more, Cel."

How did we get here? I used to know you so well.
How did we get here? Well, I used to know you so well.
I think I know. I think I know.
There is something that I see in you.
It might kill me; I want it to be true

[[If that turned out awfully, I'm sorry.]]

Writer's Block: Cryptozoology

Wed, 29 Oct 2008 17:15:22 GMT

Bigfoot, the Yeti, the Loch Ness Monster, el chupacabra—what is your favorite creature that may or may not exist?

View 500 Answers

Oh, this is just too good to pass up. :D
I have lots of cryptids that I simply freakin' adore. XD Vampires being at the top of that heap, for fairly obvious reasons. Who wouldn't want a vampire to suck on their neck? :D Even if it is going to kill me, there's just something about it that is undeniably sensual. (And yes, I HAVE seen 30 Days of Night; it's one of my favorites.)

I also have reason to believe in Ghosts. Having personal experiences of my own, I do believe there is some kind of life after death.

As for the Goat-Sucker - el chupacabra, anyone? - I don't know.

And yes, I believe in the Loch Ness Monster. ... >_>; And Renesmee. [BREAKING DAWN, Y/Y?]

Writer's Block: Fright Show

Wed, 29 Oct 2008 16:35:35 GMT

'Tis the season for scary movies. Some rank The Evil Dead as the best horror film of all time. What is your favorite scary movie?

View 500 Answers

Ohmyfuckinggod.
You don't want a LIST, do you?!
I have WAY too many favorites. I fucking LOVE horror movies. Anything with ZOMBIES. Being as Shaun of the Dead was pretty damn funny, it ranks up there, but the Romero flicks pretty much take the cake.

Army of Darkness too. :D

Bodybag. [VIBE] [ONESHOT.]

Tue, 28 Oct 2008 16:17:27 GMT

Another ficlet. HELP. I'M AN ADDICT. VIBE is my crack! (Vibe = Vicky-T + Gabe.)
It's PG-13-ish. For language.
Written by me. teardrop_echos
"Bodybag."
Worry not. It's a oneshot.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Bodybag.

"You're gonna need a bodybag. I'll break bones you didn't know you had. When I'm done there will be nothing left of you, for your friends to hold onto, when they find you cold and blue tonight-"

"FACE DOWN IN A PARKING LOT!" The fans were screaming out the words that Victoria now knew by heart as she stood to the side of the stage, watching Hit the Lights! play their set as she always did.

The first time she found herself singing along was last night, after a flame-out fight with Gabe, over something ridiculously stupid - i.e. did she know where his phone was. She was not the keeper of his damned phone, and she reminded him of this. He had not taken the reminder lightly at all. And she had stormed off to watch the set, surprised to find her lips moving to the song. And she was doing it again.

"You've got nowhere to hide. You're gonna need a bodybag."

"I'll break bones you didn't know you had. When I'm done-" Victoria whirled to face the owner of the voice that sang in her ear.

"HI!" He grinned. He was acting like he wasn't pissed off, the old Gabe she knew and loved. Platonically loved, anyway. She stared blankly at him, immersing herself in the screaming. "Aw, c'mon, la jolla!" He whined, leaning down so she could hear over the heavy sound. "Are you really still mad at me?"

Vicky just stared at him. Or, his mouth, rather. For some reason the song made her think of angry sex, and that just wasn't right. But so very tempting. Her fingers tightened in the folds of her skirt, her eyes ripping away from Gabe's, a blush creeping furiously up her features. Grabbing her MP3 player she shoved the buds in her ears, turned it on, and walked away, her fingers hitting the buttons hard.

A hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks. She spun, fingers curled into a fist, green eyes flashing, her arm moving with every intention of hitting him across the jaw to knock some sense into the little bastard. Her hand was caught very quickly, and she was yanked toward his lank form and into his arms. Her breath caught in her throat as she suddenly found his lips pressed against hers.

"No bodybags. Please." He breathed against her lips, before kissing her again, his long fingers tangling in her hair. And suddenly her anger ebbed, and hurting him was the furthest thing from her mind.

Writer's Block: The Undead

Tue, 28 Oct 2008 14:52:13 GMT

With Halloween on the horizon, burning questions about the undead need to be answered: Can being a zombie be considered suffering?

Submitted By destynnee

View 500 Answers

Okay. This is the single weirdest question ever, but I have a viable answer.

Can being a zombie be considered suffering?
No.
Getting technical I'm going to say that since a zombie is 'undead', a zombie cannot feel pain, cannot feel anything aside from hunger, and pointing out the fact that because of the fact that their bodies are dead, they can't really gain or lose weight... just limbs. And they wouldn't feel that anyway.

But they sure have fun chomping people. Apparently, we're full of nom-y goodness. O.O;

You Don't Know, but I'm Noticing.

Tue, 28 Oct 2008 03:25:29 GMT

My *first* Gabe-Vicky-T fic. ONOES. It's a oneshot. Kinda fluffy. I'm sorry? Play nice. o.o;
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You Don't Know, but I'm Noticing.
A Cobra Starship fan fiction.

The way you’re singing in your sleep.
The way you look before you leap.
The strange illusions that you keep.
You don’t know, but I’m noticing. –Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist.

It was odd, the things she noticed about him. Always little things. Never the bigger picture. Well, almost never. She saw him, yes, saw him for who he was - kinda crazy, but one of the most intelligent and creative people she had ever known - but also, the things he never wanted anyone to see. She saw the wall he put up sometimes, saw him hide things. He was adept at it; a reknowned practitioner of the Art of Illusion; a master of disguise and subterfuge.

When they spoke, it was hardly about open things: their social life, which they shared; the party last night; the show; the fans. He was so much more open with Alex and Nate and Ryland than he was with her. She felt oddly left out sometimes, and the thought annoyed her considerably as her fingers stroked the keys to the keytar she played to the crowd. The night had been particularly interesting so far.

As soon as the show was over, she knew what would happen. She would disappear to shower, she herself separate from the boys, manager's orders, and then they'd go out for drinks, and Gabe would further fuck up his voice. Vicky sighed, and placed her keytar into it's case as she walked off the stage.

"Hey, la jolla." Gabe called, jogging to catch up with her heightened pace. Was she upset? That was the only reason she would be so brusque. She paused, her heeled shoes clicking loudly against the tiled floor backstage, and she turned to face him, eyes goring him with a look. She was not in the mood. "Are you okay?"

Was he stupid? Didn't he see that she wasn't? Not that it was because of her. She wasn't okay because he wasn't okay. She was making herself sick, worrying about him. And he didn't even notice.

The words poured from her lips before she could stop them.

"Are you fucking BLIND, Gabriel?! No, I'm NOT okay! Jesus. You're making it so much worse for yourself! You keep getting drunk after these shows, and making your voice worse. Are you going to last the rest of this tour? Because it doesn't sound like it, Gabe. I watch you, you know? I notice things. All the little things. All the minutiae that you try and hide. Out of all of us, who gets the least amount of sleep?"

He froze, the fervor of her words stunning him. "You?" He rasped.

"Damn right. Do you know why?"

He paused, and it began to dawn on him just where this was leading. "You worry about us."

"Yes." She breathed. "I worry about all of you, but you, Gabe, especially."

Now he was lost. "Me? What do you mean?"

"I watch you, Gabe, because I'm worried you're going to self-destruct. You're smarter than that, but you're... well, your voice is fucked, if you didn't notice, and you're making it worse. So, I stay up all night, watching you, making sure..." She paused, being careful now. "You sing in your sleep. Sometimes in Spanish. And it's the most heartwrenching thing I've ever heard, because it sounds so beautiful, and I'm beginning to wonder if that is the real you. You keep walls up, with us, Gabe. Pretty illusions, but I'm starting to see through, and I worry. You built your reputation on being careless, but every move you make is so carefully planned. Who are you, Gabe? Which one are you, so I know which one I'm in love with."

The words were out now. She wasn't careful enough. She hadn't kept the glass illusion up long enough, and now she was going to suffer for it. All the pretty games she and Gabe had played on stage were going to be different now. A price to pay, for admitting these feelings.

But suddenly his lips were on hers, hot, fierce, melting into something sweeter, something softer. She had meant to walk away, leave him bewildered. But he had taken the lead. She was taken. "What...?"

"You think I've never noticed what you do for us? Did you ever stop to think, maybe I'm awake, singing for you? Hoping you'll sleep to it? I'm not blind, la jolla. I know you; and I know what you do. I've noticed what you're doing. Part of me still wants to rebel. But when this week have I come back to the bus trashed?" His fingers were stroking down her cheek now, a soft touch that sent a chill down her spine.

"Never..." She whispered. She was beginning to understand now. Maybe things weren't as fucked up as they seemed.

"Because I've noticed you worrying. I'm not the only one keeping walls, babe. Those walls were meant to hide something I hoped you'd dig up. Find it yet?"

Vicky blinked. Was he saying he reciprocated her feelings? "Yes." She murmured, bouncing on her toes to reach his lips.

The way you're singing in your sleep.
The way you look before you leap.
The strange illusions that you keep.
You don't know, but I'm noticing.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Please, let that have not sucked ass. :D

Tonight....

Mon, 27 Oct 2008 16:50:42 GMT

Will be posting something new.
I hope. ":D

Illness.

Sat, 25 Oct 2008 02:49:00 GMT

Why-oh-why do I have to be sick?
-.-;
My day keeps going from bad to worse, and shows no sign of stopping. Screw my life. I'm sick. Forced to work around the house, when my head hurts so bad, I can't even see straight, let alone stand up. WTF is wrong with my family?

Meh.

Tomorrow doesn't look any better. Cloudy with a high of 45. Why does Ohio have to be so damn cold?!
On the up side, OSU's playing a night game at the 'Shoe, and I do so love my Buckeyes. =]

GO BUCKS, Betch!

So.

Thu, 05 Jun 2008 07:23:01 GMT

Things have changed a lot since I left college.
But we're not going there.

I'm just dropping in to say hi. Sometime in the coming weeks, I'll be posting short stories, and poetry all over the place here. Some from Jericho, some from Bones, and some from my own mind. =]

Just wanted to update everyone.
I'll see ya around.

Empty.

Mon, 26 Nov 2007 22:55:56 GMT

Nothing to see here.
No more smut.
I removed it.
Permanently.

Disconnect and self destruct one bullet at a time

Thu, 15 Feb 2007 08:51:22 GMT

Weeeeeeelllllllllllll. Haven't posted here in a while. Just poking my head in to check up on things. Yeeaaah. *shifty eyedarts* Did I mention it's almost 4 in the morning? Wooooo. Yeah.

I'll probably get on again later and rant, but for now, I'm hopping off.

I'm fucking pissed

Sun, 08 Oct 2006 07:21:38 GMT

My parents pissed me off today. Not going into detail, only saying that I was seriously about to call security on them! They rearranged my dormroom without my consenting to it - including my roommate's side, which pissed her off too! - and then refused to help me switch it back the way it was! What the fuck?!?!?!?!?!?! And then they try to guilt me into coming home! No fucking way! Not when I would have had to deal with my roommate screaming at me over the phone when she found out, but I'd have to deal with her when I got back too.
Another thing that's pissing me off is that my mother refuses to bring me my winter clothes and other necesities, and is instead telling me to come home to get them. Well I'd love to, but I don't have a car and I'm not staying at home for the weekend! SHE KNEW SHE WAS COMING TODAY! SHE COULD HAVE BROUGHT IT! BUT NO! SHE HAS TO TRY AND GUILT ME INTO COMING HOME! Which I didn't.

Anyway, done venting. Going to bed now.

Having no life...

Sat, 07 Oct 2006 23:36:36 GMT

I have been constantly roleplaying! Which is actually a lot of fun! And I'm checking out the mood theme too. *grins evilly*

WHEE! THANKS MARY!

Sat, 07 Oct 2006 23:24:35 GMT

She changed around my profile a bit, and gave me one kick ass mood theme! Makes me happy. *bounces around, like someone with too much sugar*

whines

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 11:36:53 GMT

I've been up all freaking night, because I could not get to sleep. (If there are any typos I missed, it's because I haven't slept in almost 24 hours)
And now I have to go study for a criminal justice midterm I have tomorrow. Joy of joys, someone shoot me now!
I feel like I'm slogging through wet cement. I feel like utter crap. I can't wait to sleep.

Um... Boredom kills?

Thu, 21 Sep 2006 16:56:02 GMT

pseudomonas me scripsit anno 2005

Fucking bitch!

Fri, 15 Sep 2006 02:29:28 GMT

It fucking figures that my mom would do this to me! I can't - C-A-N-'T - come home this weekend because I am studying both Saturday and Sunday morning with my roommate and a friend for a criminal justice midterm I have in 2 weeks, that's going to be rather difficult. Well, mom wants me to come home Saturday afternoon - which I already have plans for anyway - and both clean my room AND do my laundry - and then she'll drop me back off at my dorm Sunday morning. WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT PART OF "I-HAVE-A-DIFFICULT-CRIMINAL-JUSTICE-MIDTERM-IN-TWO-WEEKS-THAT-I-NEED-TO-STUDY-FOR-SO-I-CAN'T-COME-HOME-THIS-WEEKEND,-COULD-YOU-DO-MY-LAUNDRY-THIS-WEEKEND-PLEASE? DOES SHE NOT UNDERSTAND?!?!?!?!?!
I am seriously pissed off now! Someone please shoot me in the head before I shoot my mother!

-Ari

:growl:

Fri, 08 Sep 2006 18:21:36 GMT

This morning, I fell asleep at 1:30 am. Was awakened at 3 am by a speeding car w/out a muffler, and was awoken again 5 minutes later by the garbage truck. I couldn't go back to "sleep" sleep. I was stuck in a sort of half sleep, where you're unconscious, but you're aware of everything around you. I got up this morning at 7 am, surfed the web, had class at 10:30, another class at 11:45, and now I want nothing more than to sleep, but I can't because my mom is coming to pick me up so I can go back to the ER one last time and get my final rabies shot. I'm exhausted and slightly cranky and it's a wonder I haven't gone off on my roommate yet.
Okay, I'm done now.

The Valkyrie.

Explain the emptiness.

Writer's Block: Heart to Heart

Alright, guys. I need your help.

My thoughts you can't decode.

I Didn't-I didn't-I didn't-I don't.

Post Halloweenishness.

Writer's Block: Costumes

If You're A Man At All...

Writer's Block: Cryptozoology

Writer's Block: Fright Show

Bodybag. [VIBE] [ONESHOT.]

Writer's Block: The Undead

You Don't Know, but I'm Noticing.

Tonight....

Illness.

So.

Empty.

Disconnect and self destruct one bullet at a time

I'm fucking pissed

Having no life...

WHEE! THANKS MARY!

*whines*

Um... Boredom kills?

Fucking bitch!

:growl:

whines