ooc:
still very sorry I’m not around
my beloved dog died and I just can’t do things
I’m still crying and yeah
so still not going to be here until I pull myself back together
ooc:
I’m probs not gonna be around today
my old dog is dying and I’m incredibly depressed
I just can’t do fun things when I’m upset
Jared’s concern grew as Danny spoke. He didn’t want his friend to hurt himself but he didn’t feel like it was his place to say something. Maybe he was really angry? Or drunk? People do stupid things when they are drunk…… Why did I have to think about that… idiot “Well, I hope you don’t hurt yourself too much more. You wont have much arm left to cut.” He chuckled and tried to make a joke about the situation. ” And umm I don’t know but you know, I’m always here for you and such. ” He smiled at him and took a sip of his coffee and too a deep breath in to think. He hoped that Danny would think of him as a friend, someone he could come too…
Danny forced laughter at the comment. “Well, it’s not an often thing that it’s my fault - on purpose. I am a very accident prone individual,” he said. It was true, he did have a habit of falling into dangerous situations and narrowly avoided getting killed each time. His sense of judgement was not the best, rather perhaps the exact opposite. He smiled when Jared said he’d be there, like a loyal friend would. He loved having people he could count on around, when he screwed everything up. Maybe they couldn’t always fix his mistakes but he needed all the help he could get. “Thank you, that means a lot to me,” he said earnestly. “I’m uh - I’m here if you need anything too.”
(Source: glass-spider)
For Zonny (ravercat)… and I actually looked up how people in your fandom post their fics. It goes a little something like this.
Pairing: Skrillmau5
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language
Warning: There’s war and aliens and war with aliens. Also there’s death in this so - you know, don’t look at it if you don’t want to read about one of them dying
Length: 4000+ words
Description: AU. Mankind traveled the galaxy to find a new home, one they’re now being forced to fight over. Lieutenant Joel Zimmerman finds a strange alien in the midst of the destruction.
This has been the first edition of ‘Fanfiction for Fandoms I Don’t Belong To.’
Everybody look at what Niks did.
OH MY GOD, NO ABBY, NO. NO.
BAD ABBY.
The way Danny hiccups every now and then might have been endearing if Knowa weren’t hauling him up the stairs. His hand is buried in Danny’s shirt, gripping a fistful of cotton to keep him close - he prays that, if Danny does happen to fall, the shirt is strong enough to withstand the sudden, snapping pressure and will support him rather than rip and send him tumbling to what may be his death, or what may be severe injury.
Knowa was never good at dealing with broken bones and he doesn’t know how much help he’d be in a situation like that. Perhaps he’d scream for Charlie? Or perhaps he’d just scream for anyone who heard him, and he’d just have to hope they helped Danny whether they liked him or not. He knows that Danny poisoned Parker and the knowledge makes him a little queasy but Charlie likes him - Charlie likes him a lot, and Danny seems quite harmless now, whimpering at stairs and swaying and leaning his weight onto Knowa for support. The more he looks at him and his slightly mismatched eyes, the less he thinks that Danny has the capacity to try and murder someone.
Then again, Knowa was always taught not to judge a book by its cover - whether he follows that motto or not is up to the person he’s interacting with.
Knowa nods when Danny’s tone becomes questioning and he smiles dumbly at the stairs, thinking of his Charlie as he heaves Danny up another three. “Yes, yes he’s from Italy. Have you ever been to Italy?” Perhaps Knowa’s longing for travel leaches into his conversation too much - constantly asking people if they’ve visited certain countries, usually France, and he frowns to himself as he ponders this because he doesn’t want to be annoying, he just wants to learn. Is he annoying? Probably, but Charlie still kisses him and smiles at him and now they have an apartment together and maybe Charlie just doesn’t see it, the desperation.
Danny’s conversation continues under Knowa’s prompting but it makes him frown - “I don’t think you’re a horrible person,” he tells him. “You haven’t done anything bad to me.” He does perk up again when he discovers Danny’s from London - that certainly explains the accent, even if some words sound a little odd from being around Americans for so long (Knowa’s sure he sounds the same, sometimes). “London? That’s close to France? Have you been there?” he asks, and it’s both for his own knowledge and to keep Danny distracted - which makes it not obnoxious, right? Right. “Have you travelled a lot? And I don’t think I can buy you a drink but we might have something for you at home.”
Danny felt dizzy as he went up another few stairs. But the conversation distracted him from becoming too fearful of his ascent. “No… no… I’ve uh - never been to - to Italy,” he slurred. “But! But but… Charlie said he uh - he would take me to it.” He smiled lopsidedly. He liked the thought of going to Italy. The only places he’d ever been to outside of his home country were France and the United States of America. His parents never took him along when they traveled, and they certainly did a lot of travelling. They had probably been all across the globe while he sat at home every day being cared for by a nanny. He’d only been able to go to France because the trip was his 16th birthday present. His parents sent him a birthday card with the plane tickets and money to cover expenses while they were in Japan.
“No,” said Danny, stretching the word out three times its normal length. “I’m a horrible person. I - uh - I go crazy and I - uh - try to kill people.” His confession of being an insane would-be murderer was followed shortly after by another hiccup, which undoubtedly offset the seriousness of it. Loose lips sink ships, but being secretive is the last thing on his mind because he’s completely inebriated. The mention of France made him nod his head. “Yeah! I’ve been to France… when I was sixteen…” He remembered it like it was yesterday even though it was a full ten years ago. “Lovely - lovely France. My uh - my jet set parents - for my birthday - they - they let me go to there. That was nice. They were never… never around… though…” He looked a little disappointed after he said this.
He shook his head. “Nuh-uh,” he said, “my parents traveled but they didn’t uh - take me.” His Irish father had been a very wealthy business man who took trips around in the world on the money he made, and his English mother was a prim and proper socialite. She never particularly wanted to start a family, but accidents happen and Danny was one of them. They were hardly ever home, though. Occasionally they would stop by with some gifts from whatever foreign country they were just at, but they’d take off once again a few days later. He loved them dearly throughout his childhood even if they only showed up once in a while, but later into his teenage years he realized how little they cared about him.
Part of his realization could be attributed to the fact that they just sent him money and tickets to France instead of coming home to visit him on his birthday. They were far too busy doing whatever they were doing in Japan to take the time to come and see him. He recalled crying quite a lot over realizing that his parents only cared enough to give him gifts but not enough to be around when he needed them. That’s what prompted his run away to America at the age of seventeen. The legality of it was shady, but he eventually became a citizen through a very brief green card marriage. After he left, he never spoke to his parents again. Often times he would doubt that they even realized he was gone.
(Source: glass-spider)
Skylar only finds Danny’s talking to be amusing. It’s clear that he’s not any kind of ruthless killer like he’d been led to believe. He’s just a desperate scavenger, probably fighting just to stay alive another day. But Skylar knows that desperation can be just as useful as ruthlessness. “So you’re really just a rogue survivalist, I’m a little disappointed,” he sneers. “I thought you’d have a little bit more bite to your bark. Mackenzie speaks better of you than you deserve.” He tilts his head sharply towards the couch. “Have a seat.”
“If you’re smart, and I suspect you have some amount of intelligence to do what you already do, you’ll do as I say,” he says as he walks in front of the couch to face him. Their cold blue eyes are locked in intensity. If Skylar doesn’t get the response he’s looking for, he will have no hesitation in eliminating the competition. He’s intelligent enough to cover his trail, to make it look like a suicide or something similar. He’s not going to kill Mackenzie, however, he’s smart but gullible and easily tricked. He does what he’s told which makes him quite the faithful subordinate, something he has no doubt that Danny recognized.
Skylar shakes his head. “Don’t pretend you care about him,” he says. A glint comes to his light eyes as he sneers. “You and I both know that he’s a pawn in the game. You and me - we’re chess masters. We hold all the cards. The odds are in our favor. I feel like you and I could be powerful allies, McQueen. Just do as I say. So what do you think? It’s your choice whether you live to see another day or not.” The way he holds the gun proves he’s not afraid to pull the trigger.
Danny had a look on his face that told that he knew this would happen. That sooner or later, someone else with ambition, cunning, and the dangerous desire to survive would come along. But there was a very strong difference between Skylar and Danny. Though it hardly excused a thing, at least Danny was completely out of his mind. Skylar on the other hand, minus perhaps being a sadistic psychopath, seemed to have all his faculties. His acts were not out of desperation to survive, they obviously out of a desire to be in complete control. This made Skylar the last person Danny wanted to have any association with, however, he realized that his choice was to ally or die. He hadn’t fought for this long to stay alive just to have it all taken away with one bullet. Work for him, hope the ghosts get him. If they don’t - kill him while he sleeps, his mind told him. Hell, kill him while he sleeps the first chance you get.
“Well, what can I say with a gun pointed at my heart?” he said with a forced smile, trying to bring humor to his situation for his own sake. If he didn’t lighten the mood in his mind, he might not have the clarity to see a way out. Danny couldn’t take a lot, he broke so very easily under pressure. That’s part of the reason he lost his mind to begin with, the inability to handle stressful situations without panicking. “But I think you have me figured wrong. First of all, I do care about Mackenzie. Second of all, I am hardly a chess master. Most of my decisions are impulsive, spur of the moment, life or death, and spawned completely by my insanity. Lastly, the odds are never in my favor.” He raised his eyebrows, getting in his last contrary words before he had to shut up and become a yes man.
Jared looked over the cuts and bruises worriedly and shook his head. “Ahh some of them look painful. Why don’t you see the nurse and or better yet go to a hospital or something? I would hate for you too be in pain all the time.” He frowned and picked up a few more pieces of glass. Pulling them in his free hand. He frowned at the arm once more and walked over to the bin to throw the last pieces of glass away. He walked back over and sat on the couch next to Danny. He didn’t want to sit too close to freak each other out. He smiled and took a sip of his drink thinking for a moment. “Those aren’t self inflicted are they?”
“I’ve seen the nurse, she’s nice, but she can’t do everything,” Danny muttered. “Apparently I need the ‘care of a doctor’ and should ‘check myself in to a hospital’.” He turned towards Jared who was sitting at the opposite end of the couch, both of them at a comfortable distance. He looked back down at his arm and traced his fingers over some of the cuts, which still stung. He drew back his hand and sighed. “Some of them are accidentally self-inflicted, I suppose. I mean I’ve broken lots of sharp things… with my fists…” He knew a couple of them he’d intentionally self-inflicted, solely for the purpose of testing out the sharpness of his switchblade after sharpening it. “I mean, a couple I made myself, but not because… not because of any particular reason.”
(Source: glass-spider)
“Or what?” says Skylar with a smirk. He pulls out his gun and pushes the tip of the barrel against Danny’s chest. “You’ll cut my throat? Poison me?” He pressed harder to make Danny step backwards and then closed the door behind them. “But I’m not here to kill you, I’m here to make a deal with you.” He doesn’t bother with the charms, there’s no way that Danny would fall for that after Mackenzie’s character testimony. He wouldn’t believe a stranger over his own boyfriend.
He cocks the gun to make Danny more tense. “Here’s the deal. Either you join me and work for me, or I consider you a threat and kill you. Right here. And I don’t want to have to do that,” he says darkly. “But only because I don’t want to have to clean up the mess and have to be your boyfriend’s therapist.” He narrows his ice blue eyes. “So make your choice.”
Of all things, he hadn’t expected to be threatened at gunpoint. He stared down at the firearm pressed against his chest and felt his heart sink. “Should have known you’d come prepared,” he said sadly. Danny stepped backwards with every threatening step taken towards him. He put his hands up halfway in the air. Dealing with guns was out of his range, and it wasn’t something he wanted to press his luck with anyway. “I don’t want to make a deal with you, leave me alone. I was doing fine with Mackenzie, we were getting by with occasional theft. It’s hard enough to steal enough for the two of us, what - you want me to steal for you too? I can’t do that.”
He put one hand in his blond hair, stressed and feeling anxious like he might vomit. “Listen to me, there’s only so much that I can handle. I can handle what I have right now. Barely, maybe, but I can handle it. You’ll make this worse for the three of us; steal your own food.” His words were coming nervously but all he had was words on his side. You can’t fight your way out when someone has a gun pointed at your heart. “Just go, please. Leave Mackenzie and I alone, we don’t need any more allies. And you hurt him so badly…”
The fearful, panicked look in Danny’s eyes was intense as his gaze went back to eye contact with Skylar. Figures my paranoia would turn out to be useful. I just feared the wrong people at the wrong time, he thought. He looked downtrodden by the revelation that he wasn’t completely wrong - that there really were people in the inn who were just as threatening as the dark ghosts who prowled the shadows. “But I don’t want to die, so I’m going to have to do what you ask - aren’t I?” he muttered. Not prepared enough, never do the right thing, can’t take this, why can’t I just get some peace?
Skylar is dressed to kill and packing the heat for it. He’s got his Browning 9mm semi-automatic pistol loaded. He expects everything that can go wrong will go wrong. He’s come to talk to someone who’s either a madman or a sociopath, maybe both. He isn’t going to let the situation go out of his control. His feet hit the floor with clunking footsteps as he approached the room number he was given, 413. He’s terrified of the number thirteen, and he carries his fear with him as he goes. He stops in front of the door and tries not to look at the crooked thirteen in front of his face.
He knocks on the door three times and waits for an answer. When it takes too long he gets worried and shifts around anxiously. He knocks once more. Finally when the door opens he is surprised at who he sees. ”You’re Danny McQueen?” he says, staring eye to eye at the blonde-haired, wide eyed man. They’re the exact same height but the other man weighs considerably less. He looks like the result of someone throwing a gay stereotype into a boxing ring. “I was expecting a little less Lady Roxy, a little more Ted Bundy.”
Great, the only person who might be of some use and he’s the street fighter son of Elton fucking John, he thinks.He doesn’t want to underestimate him but he has a hard time imagining that this makeup-wearing, beaten-up, weary-looking man was capable of anything he’d heard about. He hardly looks like he can get out of bed in the morning let alone plot a murder.
It took positively ages for Danny to get Mackenzie to go to sleep. The mortician had been so badly shaken up that he could hardly function. He had to put together a healthy meal for his boyfriend, read him The Picture of Dorian Gray, and cuddle him while listening to Queen’s Greatest Hits before he would finally rest. Danny left him asleep in his room, and then went back down to his own apartment to eat something and maybe try to fall asleep. He was in the middle of slicing things to put on crackers when he heard a knock at the door.
Uninvited visitors made him very nervous. He shoved one of the crackers into his mouth and then shoved the rest of the food into the refrigerator. When there was no more knocking he thought perhaps it had just been a ghost. Then there were more knocks. He brushed crumbs off his hands and went to the door. Through the peek hole he could see a man with sharp blue eyes and dark hair. Oh, fuck, he thought, swinging the door open. “What do you want?” he snapped.
He frowned at the comment. “Yeah, I’m Danny. You must be Skylar, the man who hurt and used my precious boyfriend,” he growled. “I’ll give you ten seconds to turn around and leave, starting right now.” His mismatched eyes were filled with fury. He didn’t know what he was going to do about it, but he hoped the ten second warning would suffice. He was too tired to fight, besides he didn’t much feel like it anymore anyway. Please just go away, he thought wearily.
1: Name – Daniel Aleister McQueen
2: Age - Twenty five… or no, maybe twenty six. Did I miss my birthday? It’d be a shame if I missed my birthday.
3: Best Friend - I don’t know… I have friends… They’re around… I just always screw things up with them.
4: Relationship Status - I suppose I’m in an (open?) relationship with Mackenzie Tyler. It’s complicated. We’re allies and lovers.
5: Piercings You Have – None, I am deathly afraid of needles. No needles for me.
6: Piercings You Want – See above.
7: Tattoos You Have – They’re mostly small. I have a dolphin tattooed on my left ankle. I also have a lightning bolt on my upper right arm and the words ‘20th Century Boy’. Oh, and stars. Stars on my lower back. There’s also one I got while in prison that I don’t really want to talk about.
8: Tattoos You Want - I don’t know, I usually choose when I’m really drunk. Maybe something Warhol or Kubrick.
9: Favourite Blog – I don’t typically browse the internet.
10: The meaning behind your URL – Uh. My what?
11: Favorite Band at the moment – T-Rex, The Rolling Stones, Alice Cooper, Elton John, Iggy Pop, Queen, The Pixies, Placebo
12: Favourite Movie - A Clockwork Orange - or wait, no Rocky Horror… Actually, no, I like a lot of movies. A Clockwork Orange is probably my favorite though.
13: A fact about your personality – I change my personality to fit who I’m talking to at the moment. Sort of a chameleon, I suppose.
14: What I hate about myself – Lots of things. Particularly the whole insanity bit. I could do without that. I’m also horribly, horribly selfish. Unrepentantly selfish. I also make stupid mistakes more than I care to admit.
15: What I love about myself – Roxy may be the Queen of Fashion, but I am most certainly the King. Also I’m rather good at songwriting. I have talent here and there.
16: What I want to be when I’m older – Younger.
17: Idea of a perfect date – Drinks and an art house film at the indie theater.
18: Things I hate the most - Being threatened with death. Being called a moron. I hate this place. I hate a lot of things. I hate that stupid high pitched sound that keeps ringing in my ears.
19: Weakness – I don’t reveal weakness. That’s a poor tactical maneuver.
20: Phobia - Fear of needles. Fear of dying. Fear of being enclosed in small spaces. Fear for electrocution. Fear of elevators. Fear of falling down the stairs. Fear of monsters. Fear of everybody. Fear of everything.
21: What I hate about school - Overbearing Catholic nun teachers.
22: Things I find attractive in girls/guys – I like the shy ones, they’re cute. Cleverness is good too. I also like vivacious ladies, and men with powerful presence. Aesthetically I like nice hair and eyes. Being healthy and fit is always a plus.
23: Biggest Turn on - I like handcuffs. I like being handcuffed, and I like handcuffing my lovers. I like being treated a little roughly too. I don’t really mind it when attractive guys beat me up as long as they don’t hurt me too badly. That’s new. I’m not a sadomasochist, it’s just a kink.
24: Biggest Turn off – Old people. Ew.
25: A random fact I know – Stanley Kubrick once wanted to be a jazz drummer when he was young.
26: A quote I live my life on - ”I am a deeply superficial person” - Andy Warhol
27: Something I need to get off my chest – Other than the ridiculous amount of felony offenses? I guess it’s that I have unrequited crushes on several of my friends.
28: A description of someone I hate, and why I hate them – I hate a lot of people. If I took the time to list them all we’d be here all day.
29: The last time I cried and why – I cry at night a lot because I don’t know what I’m going to do - I don’t know how I’ll survive another day, I don’t know how I can provide for both myself and my boyfriend, I don’t know where my next meal is coming from. It’s hard to keep going like this.
30: Looks or personality and why? - A healthy mixture of both is always nice. I’m fairly superficial so I might appreciate looks a little more.
