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The Elf of the Opera SPOILER ALERT FOR PHANTOM OF THE OPERA
Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2004 8:00 pm
Author’s Note: I just saw the Phantom of the Opera and it was just beautiful. The ending made me cry, and then I thought of this.
I tried not to give away too much while still giving enough description to make it a good story so…
SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT!
DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T WANT HINTS OF THE ENDING TO PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!
It was all Kitty’s fault.
On Muir Island she just wouldn’t stop begging the whole of Excalibur to fly to New York City and see the Phantom of the Opera. They had finally relented to her pleading and flown their jet over to New York City to see the musical.
Kurt was sitting a seat down from Meggan, with Brian sitting between them in his usual jealous fashion. He looked at him angrily every time the big man scoffed at something he didn’t understand, and it was a lot in the end.
Meggan enjoyed the play immensely. She liked the costumes and the performer’s singing the best. They were causing such strong emotions of happiness in the entire audience, that it couldn’t help but affect her in the positive.
However, when the final scene occurred, when the Phantom forced Christine to choose between him and Raol, someone in the audience started to emit a strong wave of sadness.
Blinking, Meggan frowned. The emotion was coming in so strong that the emotions of the rest of the audience were overpowered by it. When Christine came back to the Phantom and gave him back the ring he had given her, causing the wretched man to cry out that he loved her, the sadness almost took over her being.
When the lights went up, she looked around, trying to pinpoint who was causing the waves of sadness. It surprised her when she saw Kurt wiping his eyes violently and heading down the stairs without a word.
Narrowing her eyes, Meggan concentrated and she realized that the sadness was coming from him.
“Man that was a piece of shit.” Brian said, stretching out a bit. “I can’t believe I let Kitty talk me into seeing this! Come on.” He grabbed her hand and without asking how she liked it he led her down the stairs and out of the building.
Kurt and the others were waiting by the corner, everyone but Kurt smiling.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Kitty asked. “That was the best musical ever!” Brian snorted and waved a dismissive hand.
“Whatever you say.” He said. “Can we go back to Muir Island now?” Looking over at Kurt, he cocked an eyebrow slightly. “What’s the matter with you? Something in your eyes?” he asked sarcastically.
Kurt rubbed his eyes slightly, turning away and frowning.
Meggan tilted her head to one side, looking at Kurt sadly.
She waited until Brian was asleep before she went to see Kurt.
Slipping out of bed, she went to Kurt’s room, knocking on it lightly. When she received no answer, she slowly opened the door and looked inside.
Kurt wasn’t there.
Frowning slightly, she closed her eyes and focused on his emotions to try and find him.
He was on the roof.
Sighing softly, she flew from the window onto the roof a few feet behind Kurt. He was sitting with his arms hugging his knees to his chest, gazing out at the ocean. Before Meggan could say anything, he sighed and rested his head between his knees.
“I was wondering when you would talk to me.” he said in Romani. Walking up to Kurt, she sat down beside him and looked at him, hugging her knees to her own chest.
“Why did that play make you so sad?” she asked gently. Slowly, Kurt lifted his head, and fresh tears were seen through the light of the moon.
“The phantom…His pain is mine.” he whispered. “I never knew my real mother, she left me for dead the day I was born. Ja, Margali acted in her stead, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting me; that my own mother would abandon me; a blue demon to the elements like that.
And the circus…When that millionaire bought it, all he saw in me was a member in the freak show; ‘The Creature from the Darkest Bowels of Hell’, he said. He wanted to put me in a cage; just like they did to the phantom in that play.”
Meggan listened sadly, watching as tears continued to fall down his blue cheeks.
“But that’s not all.” She said softly. Kurt looked at her, and he took a long wavering breath before he nodded slowly.
“How can someone who looks like me or the phantom ever expect someone to really love us for who we are? How can we ever hope for someone to look past this face and see the love inside of us? He tried it, and she chose the one with the pretty face instead. She even returned the ring, knowing it would rip him apart.
She knew it and she did it anyway.”
Slowly, Meggan reached out and wiped away the tears on Kurt’s face.
“You’re not ugly.” She said softly. “And I know that you’ll find someone who loves you.” Kurt shook his head, closing his eyes.
“I will never be able to find someone who will return my love.” He said softly. “The woman I love will choose the man with the pretty face over me, just as Christine did.”
“Not every woman is like Christine, Kurt.” Meggan whispered softly, resting her hand on his cheek. “I’m sure the woman will choose you over the man with the pretty face.”
“Do you really think so?” Kurt asked, not believing her for a moment. Meggan nodded slightly.
“Ask her to choose who she loves, Kurt. You may be surprised.” She said. Kurt looked her in the eyes and he nodded, taking her hands in his own.
“Choose.” He whispered softly. Leaning forward, Meggan met his lips with her own, her body changing until her eyes were golden and her skin and hair were blue.
“I choose the one with the beautiful soul, rather than the pretty face.” She whispered softly.
Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2004 8:52 pm
The Phantom of the Opera!!!!!!! I've read the book a gazillion times and I've watched the old silent movie more times even than that! I've noticed a bunch of similarities between him and Kurt too, and when I saw the musical in Boston a few years ago I was also moved to tears. I can really see how Kurt would sympathize with him in this story here (which I really enjoyed even though I still don't think Captain Britain is really that bad or that Kurt's in love with Meggan--but it works very well in your stories so it's cool.) The major difference between Kurt and Erik though--the one that really makes me lose a lot of my sympathy for the Phantom and agree with Christine's choice of Raoul--is that in spite of all his touching pathos, the Phantom is a cold blooded murderer. There's no getting around that. Despite that niggling little detail, however, he's still an awesome character! I have so
got to see the new movie this December!
Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2004 11:49 pm
I second what Rowena has said...DAMN GIRL!!! You should write books!11
By the way, Wasn't Alan supposed to be in that new version?
Posted: Wed Nov 03, 2004 1:13 am
:o You must read minds.......ALL HAIL LAUREN, LA REINA SUPREMA DEL FANFICCION!
Posted: Wed Nov 03, 2004 5:22 am
Three Months Later
Kurt’s stigmata remained, and he was forced to undergo several blood transfusions, due to the loss of blood he was suffering every time his wounds opened up and began to bleed once more.
The worst wounds were the one in his side and the one of his head, which was the same as if someone had jammed nails into his head.
At the moment, he was sleeping heavily, due to the amount of painkillers Hank was forced to give him to stop the pain.
Logan sat next to him, as he did every night and day since the last part of stigmata occurred when they were outside. He held his hand gently, rubbing the back of it with his thumb lightly.
“Come on, Kurt.” He whispered softly, tilting his head to one side slightly. “You can get over this.” In response, the wound in Kurt’s side and head opened up and blood began to seep through the bandages.
“Hank! They’ve opened again!” Logan shouted. Standing up, he stepped back as Hank came in and immediately began to work on the wounds once more. For a man who had seen things far worse than this, Logan was still upset and disgusted as Hank took off the bandages, revealing the wounds that wouldn’t heal.
“It’s not fair.” He whispered softly, hugging himself. Hank nodded, wrapping a bandage around Kurt’s head.
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do but keep our blood supplies up for his transfusions.” He said sadly.
“This is bullshit.” Logan growled, narrowing his eyes.
“Oh I quite agree.” Hank nodded, “but what can we do, Logan?” he asked. When he got no response, he cocked an eyebrow and turned around.
Logan was gone.
Sighing, Hank shook his head and left the room.
The doors to the school’s chapel smashed open as Logan stormed in, his claws out and ready. Growling deep in his throat, he stormed right up to the altar and smashed it with one blow, sending the artifacts clattering to the ground.
“What the hell did Kurt ever do to You?” he raged angrily, glaring at the Crucifix that hung on the wall. “What?!” Without thinking, he lashed out and took the Crucifix off of the wall, smashing it to pieces on the ground.
Hot tears flowed down his cheeks as he looked down at the pieces on the floor.
“He loves You; with all of his heart and soul!” he shouted. “He loves You so much and what do You do? You make him suffer like this for nothing! Why? What’s the point? What could You possibly want by making him suffer like this? Huh? Why don’t You answer me!?” Pressing his hands on either side of his face, Logan couldn’t stop the sob that escaped from his throat, which echoed all around the empty chapel.
“Just take it away!” he screamed finally. “Just take it away and let him live his life! Can You at least do that? Leave him alone and let him live his life; live his life with me?” The words came out without him thinking, spilling like water from a bowl.
“I just want the Elf to be back to the way he was before all of this! I just want my friend to be able to get out and hang out with me, and be with me! Just give him that. Give ME that for once. Just this once!”
The tears soon consumed him and he fell to his knees, his hands covering his face as his shoulders shook badly. If anyone had seen him, they would have been completely surprised by the tough Wolverine’s actions.
But someone did see him, and he couldn’t help but feel pity for him.
Looking up in surprise, Logan saw Kurt in the middle of the aisle, sitting in one of Xavier’s old wheelchairs, using his tail to control the joystick controller.
Kurt’s eyes filled up with his own tears, and he rolled up to Logan, looking down at the wreckage and then at Logan.
“Logan, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, the drugs still making him a little woozy. Logan couldn’t help himself, and he hugged Logan, burying his face in his neck as he wet it with tears.
“Logan, it will be all right.” Kurt said, rubbing his back lightly. “I promise.” Logan leaned back slightly, looking Kurt in the eyes. Smiling weakly, Kurt kissed his tears away.
“Everything will be all right.” He whispered softly. “He knows what He’s doing.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Logan said weakly. Kurt laughed softly.
“That’s what’s so great about faith.” Kurt said. “Believing in the impossible. Now come on, Herr McCoy will be upset if I do not return soon.” Nodding, Logan got up and pushed Kurt out of the chapel and back into the infirmary.
Two Weeks Later
Logan stayed by Kurt’s side day and night, sleeping in the chair beside him. He refused to leave his side for anything, and he helped with the bandages when the wounds opened up once more.
He was sleeping when he felt Kurt’s hand rest lightly on his side. Opening his eyes, he sat up and looked at him.
“What’s the matter?” he asked softly. Kurt smiled at him, running his fingers through his black locks.
“They’re gone.” He whispered. Logan frowned slightly, cocking his head to one side.
“What is?” he asked.
“Take off my bandages.” Kurt said. Cocking an eyebrow, Logan slowly reached up and unwrapped the bandage on Kurt’s head.
The blood and scars were gone.
“What?” Logan whispered softly. Kurt laughed softly, smiling. Excitedly, Logan and Kurt tore off the rest of the bandages, revealing that all of his wounds were gone.
“I was told in my dream that it was over.” Kurt said.
“But why?” Logan asked. Kurt looked at him quietly, shaking his head slightly.
“It doesn’t matter now.” He said. “What matters is that it’s over now isn’t it?” Smiling, he leaned forward and he and Logan kissed gently.
He never did tell Logan the reason why his stigmata went away, but needless to say, it had something to do with the tears he had shed in the chapel.
Posted: Wed Nov 03, 2004 3:21 pm
AAI! Must... Draw... Fanart of Lauren-sempai's stories!!! Especially the stigmata one!! O_O I also feel a sudden urge to print off all of sempai's stories and make them into a book. I have a friend who works at a book bindery, so I really could do it, you know.
But I'd need to scrounge up 35 dollars somewhere...
P.S. Is stigmata a real disease? o_O; Scaryyyy...
Posted: Wed Nov 03, 2004 4:46 pm
well, stigmata isn't a disease, but it's a kind of occurence that happens to a few people. it's not like it's contagious or anything.
as for fanart: be my guest!:D
Posted: Fri Nov 05, 2004 4:50 am
Author’s Note: I just had to do one more LS story.
“Katherine, are you waiting for me?”
Raven’s granddaughter looked up from the book she was reading. Standing up, she walked up to her great-great grandfather and rested a gentle hand on his gray furred brow.
“Grandfather?” she asked gently in Rom.
SkyElf took a long shuddering breath, his eyes slowly focusing as he looked up at his great-great granddaughter. Smiling gently, he took hold of her wrist and lightly squeezed it.
“It’s almost over.” He whispered softly. “Go and tell the others.” Nodding, she turned and went to fetch her mother and the others who were waiting for word on his condition.
Sighing, SkyElf lowered his hand and settled back down a bit. Closing his eyes, he thought back over the years.
So many things had happened, most good, and some bad in the end. The fact that he and StarPryde had lived long enough to see their great-great grandchildren was a blessing in itself. Everything else was just icing on the cake.
But then his twin died; having lived up to ninety-seven years of age. Then StarPryde’s died at the age of eighty-one. Out of everyone, Logan was the only one who did not age or weaken; leaving their offspring to continue their work for them.
StarPryde had died the year before, peacefully and in her sleep.
His health began to collapse after her death. No one was surprised when the doctor told them that it was his heart that had grown weak after the funeral of his wife for so many years.
Opening his eyes, SkyElf smiled when he saw everyone standing around him, all of them looking concerned for him.
“News travels fast.” He said softly, holding up one hand for his son’s grandchild. “I can feel it you know. That she’s here with me.”
“Grandfather.” She started with a sigh. He held up one thin finger, cutting her off gently as he shook his head slightly.
“Now don’t go arguing with me.” He said. “I don’t have the time for that.”
“Yes, grandfather.” She said with a nod.
“You know, I never thought that I would live so long.” He said, his old mind starting to wander. “I and your grandmother were so very lucky just to make it out of our world and into this one. So many things could have gone wrong with it you know. That man could have easily just sold us out in the end.
My life has been so blessed. It’s as if it was all a dream in the end and that I am going to wake up and find myself in a cell somewhere; waiting to be gassed with hundreds of others…”
As he spoke of this last part, his grip tightened suddenly, his hand trembling badly.
“That’s not going to happen, grandfather.” His son’s grandchild said seriously. “You’re here, and with us.”
His grip loosened and he smiled once more, looking at her gratefully. His tail limply slid from under his blanket, hanging limply by his side.
“I know.” He whispered, his voice growing weaker. Sighing, he closed his eyes.
And opened them to find himself in his old bed in his old world.
Panic ripped through him as he sat up and touched his face, finding that it was young and his hair was short with the single cowlick. Moaning in misery, he placed his head in his hands.
Lifting up his head, SkyElf looked at his door, uncertain if he should open it or not.
“Kurt, come on.”
Slowly, SkyElf slid out of bed and he walked hesitantly towards the door. He was so concerned about the door that he did not stop and think about why he was wearing his old clothes that he wore when he was with his tribe so many years ago.
When he opened the door, light flooded his vision and he cried out, covering his eyes with one arm.
“Come on, Kurt!”
Slowly, he removed his arm and he found himself looking at StarPryde, young and beautiful as she once had been, the brand on her brow gone.
“I’ve been waiting for you a whole year, Kurt!” she said with a laugh. “Everyone has!”
Looking past StarPryde, SkyElf’s eyes grew wide as he stared at his mother and the tribe; along with his twin and the others who had passed away.
Hot tears flowed down his cheeks, and he found that he couldn’t muster the strength to walk over to them all, the sight of them, making him feel weak, even to stand at the moment.
A man who looked like him stepped forward, and smiled as he took him by the hand gently.
“Come on,” Aloysius said gently to his son. “We’ve been waiting too long for this!”
Nodding slowly, SkyElf allowed his father to lead him to the group, his hair growing long as he had kept it in his youth on Earth 616.
They had watched sadly as SkyElf slowly slipped into a coma. There were a few moments when they thought that he would awaken, but in the end, the machine that showed his lifeline finally blared and showed one flat line.
Resurrection part one:prologue
Posted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 5:42 am
Author’s Note: Nothing is worse than writer’s block, but I think I’ve been able to break that damned wall! Hurray!
This one is based off of Excalibur issue 23, you know, the one with that bastard Cadbury in it and stuff? Yeah…that one…Let’s rock.
He remembered protecting her from getting beaten from the other prisoners, and he remembered how shy and uneasy she was with him at first.
Then he remembers promising to protect her, and how she died in his arms.
Brian was woken by the footsteps he heard moving back and forth in the room above his and Meggan’s. He sighed softly, and he waited for a few moments. When the pacing didn’t stop, he growled softly to himself and slipped out of bed, scratching the small of his back as he left the room, shutting the door behind him gently.
He knocked on the door lightly with his knuckles, yawning and rubbing his temple with his free hand. When he received no reply, he sighed and pushed it open, barely startling Kurt as he turned around in mid-pace.
Kurt stood there, his hands behind his back and the fur under his eyes ruffled and hardened slightly from tears. He blushed a faint purple as Brian crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorway, and he tried to smooth the fur down a bit.
“I guess I should be sleeping huh?” he asked.
“I woke you and Meggan up?”
The two stood silence for a few moments, Brian looking at Kurt, and Kurt looking down at the floor, his tail curled around one of his legs a bit.
“You had that dream again didn’t you?” Brian asked, walking into the room and sitting on Kurt’s bed.
“How far did you get this time?”
“Her blood on my hands…” Kurt’s Adam’s apple bobbed for a few moments, and Brian stood up just in time to stop him from collapsing to the floor in a heap of tears as he started to cry against his chest.
“I promised her!”
“KURT!” Brian held him out slightly, and he sighed, tilting his head to one side slightly and shaking his head. “That was months ago. It’s not your fault that version of Meggan was shot in the back like that.”
“But I promised!”
“I know you promised, but you can’t always protect people, Kurt. It happens. You need to move on, Kurt. We’ve offered to help you with this and you said no.”
“Because this is my problem.”
“Well your problem is keeping me up all night so now I’m going to kick this problem in the ass whether you like it or not.” Brian said, smiling faintly. With that, he simply picked Kurt up off of the floor and plopped him down on the bed. “Now get some sleep; tomorrow we’re going to talk about this further.”
“Nu uh! We’re talking about this further.”
Kurt sighed and he closed his eyes as Brian left the room and closed the door. He couldn’t fall asleep though, not after that.
Not after remembering her blood on his hands, and how he just seemed to move on afterwards like it was nothing until it was too late.
Opening his eyes, Kurt stared at the ceiling until the sun rose up in the sky and Lockheed came running in for his morning nuzzle.
Posted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 6:05 am
Wow... an excalibur story where Brian doesn't isnt the rear end of a diseased inbred donkey! how nifty,
one teensy gripe though - Brian was brought up in England's upper crust of the upper class, his spoken English, I imagine would be very precise, influence from TV and radio nothwithstanding - instead of saying something like "Nuh-uh" I'd picture him saying something like "No Kurt, I am serious" or something
or maybe not, i'm kind of head!stuffy from the flu and lack of sleep
Posted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 3:56 pm
Ooh. I don't have a ton of time to read a lot of stories now (and I hate that, because our writers are so talented) but I managed to get 5 minutes in to read this latest update and as always, I love the angst.
It's funny, liking angst, because you don't want too much angst because you don't want Kurt to be traumatised for life; you want him to be happy. But you also like angst, because it's so heartrending to read. Mmm... gonna stop rambling now. I'll get to longer story updates (of which I've seen a few) this weekend.
Posted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 4:33 pm
*blink* Wow, Brian's actually being nice! Sure, it's so he can get some sleep, but still...
Nice story so far, Lauren! I really liked the ending line.
I'm glad you got over your writers block!!
Resurrection part one
Posted: Thu Aug 25, 2005 5:34 pm
**WARNING! GRAPHIC CONTENT!**
They were still working out all of the paper work involved in changing the rules of their world, rules that made mutants and people with superpowers illegal. At the moment they simply cancelled all warrants and raids so far. At the moment Cadbury was trying to write up a new bill for what was illegal and what was not, while Bull was still making her report on her encounter with Excalibur from some other place.
But the prisons they used to hold these people still existed, and the mass graves were still there as well.
Prisons still held people though, mostly ones who actually deserved to be there; supervillains and whatnot, but the graves were simply graves; holding the guilty and the innocent alike in their cold and unfeeling grasp.
In one of the graves there was the body of a woman the color of the morning sky. She was treated as a freak all of her life, and was beaten badly all of the time until a band of heroes from another universe came.
Until Excalibur came, and then she was simply a dead girl who happened to discover her powers just as she died in the arms of the man who had promised to save and protect her.
Krusk was hungry, and when Krusk was hungry, he often went to one of the graves to eat. There was always a rich supply of meat in those places. The large reptilian hybrid snuffled the ground slightly, and he hissed softly when he found that he couldn’t smell a damned thing since that blonde meat punched him in the nose months ago.
He often promised to himself, while he crouched down in the filth and dregs of the ruins of the old cities; that he would make that blonde meat suffer if he ever met her again.
In the meantime, he was hungry, and this grave was new to him. He crawled down into it, the acid rain washing away the dirt that had once covered the bodies. He snuffled through the corpses, growling softly at how wet and hard most of them were.
Now if he could smell, he would have been able to find the best one out of all of them in a matter of seconds…
A blue hand was sticking out from between two dead children, and when Krusk moved it aside, he let out a croak of joy.
This piece of meat was still in good condition, despite the thin layer of blue fur that was covering it. He sniffed hopelessly at it, and he sighed, wishing that he could smell the tasty maggot infested flesh that was only one bite away. He couldn’t wait to eat both flesh and bone, sucking delicious sweet marrow from the hard shell of bone.
With one claw he lightly pushed one of the eyes open, and he found himself staring at a golden orb. With the same claw he punctured the eye, causing it to pop. He lapped up the juice that poured out, and his eyes rolled up in ecstasy, and he started to finish the rest of the meat’s right eye with gusto.
He reached out to pierce the left eye when a shot rang out, and the bullet pierced his skull and snuffed out his life easily.
The shooter; dressed in a long dark cloak; stepped forward, and kicked away Krusk with much disdain, leaning over to check how much of Meggan he had eaten.
“Just the right eye? I can fix that easily. Makes things easier really.” The shooter whispered to itself, picking up her body. The shooter looked around for a moment, making sure no one else had seen or was coming, and he left, taking Meggan with him.
Posted: Sun Aug 28, 2005 7:12 am
*shiver* OK, that was pretty graphic! I really shouldn't read this kind of thing so late at night!
Despite his police state, I always found Cadbury interesting. I look forward to reading more about him!
I couldn't help but wonder, does Meggan losing her right eye have any connection to the Alan Cumming quote in your signature or is that just coincidence?
Once again, you've left me very curious to find out what happens next!
Posted: Sun Aug 28, 2005 7:36 pm
Urg. But very interesting. I'd love to see what's coming next; I certainly can't predict it! And the correlation to your signature is interesting.
Resurrection Part two
Posted: Mon Aug 29, 2005 6:04 pm
“I just don’t know how we can get him out of this rut.”
Brian and Meggan were in the kitchen, Meggan making breakfast for everyone and Brian fixing Kurt some tea to try and relax him. He put in a spoonful of honey, the way Kurt liked. Then he took his heritage in consideration, and he took out a small bottle from his pocket, pouring a healthy amount of alcohol into the mixture before he stirred it up and put in another spoonful of tea.
Meggan shrugged faintly, and she started to beat on the eggs, causing some of the yolk to shoot out at her. She tilted her head to the side slightly, and she waited before he placed the eggs onto a plate.
“I’m not sure how either.” She said. “He’s really sad though. I can feel it. It’s in the air right now and making me feel all gooky inside.”
The two looked at each for a moment, and they then burst into laughter. Meggan gave Brian a peck on the cheek, but she frowned down at the teacup meant for Kurt.
“Brian…How much alcohol did you put in there?” she asked. Brian shrugged, smiling faintly as he headed for the door.
“Enough to get his mind off of things for a while.” He said innocently.
“Brian…” Meggan sighed, shaking her head a bit.
Kurt was lying down on the couch, trying not to smile as Lockheed tried to cheer him up. The little purple dragon was doing little somersaults in the air, cooing in intervals. Kurt simply watched him, one hand behind his head and an eyebrow cocked slightly.
Lockheed soon gave up, sighing softly as he landed on Kurt’s chest with a light plop. He curled up and proceeded to challenge Kurt to a staring contest, his eyes wide open and glaring at him.
Kurt sighed and stared back, his eyes half closed a bit as he stared the dragon down.
“Kurt? Why are you staring at Lockheed?” Kurt blinked and sat up, looking over at Meggan as she set a plate down on the table. Lockheed proceeded to do a little dance on his hind legs, stirring the pot with his fore paws easily.
“Staring contest.” Kurt explained, glaring at the little dragon. “I was distracted, so it’s not really a win, Lockheed.” Lockheed proceeded to shake his butt at him.
“Well here you go, loser. Drink this down.” Brian laughed, sitting down and handing Kurt the cup.
Kurt sniffed the cup, and he wrinkled his nose a bit, smelling something that didn’t smell very much like tea. He shrugged and sipped it, and he glared at Brian once the alcohol hit him.
“What?” Brian said.
“You damned Brits.” Kurt said finally. “With your assumptions that Germans drink beer all the time!”
“Oh yeah? Well at least you don’t go nudist all the time.” Brian countered.
“Why don’t you drink some more tea and eat some crumpets?”
“Got a tambourine gypsy boy?”
“Got a dental plan?”
“That was a low blow.” Brian said with his hands on his hips. Kurt shrugged, and he took another sip of the tea.
“So was the tambourine comment.” He countered calmly.
“So I guess you’re feeling better? No more flipping out and going into crying fits?” Brian asked. Kurt set the cup down, and he was quiet for a moment, staring into the brown liquid.
“Brian…” Meggan chided. Her face was starting to contort and change, becoming sad and forlorn.
“I made a promise.” Kurt said softly.
“Kurt…” Meggan said gently. “It’s not your fault she got shot like that. You need to move on, ok? You can’t be sad anymore.”
Kurt was silent, then he finished the rest of his tea before he got to his feet.
“I’m going out for a bit.” He said, heading for the doors. He stopped for a moment, and he looked over his shoulder. “Don’t follow me.” He said, opening the doors and leaving.
“Damn.” Brian muttered. “Kitty’s going to have to fix this.” He said. “Where is she anyway?”
“She went out with Rachel to New York to go shopping.” Meggan said, lightly poking at the untouched eggs. She then smacked Brian upside the head.
“Ow! What was that for?” he demanded.
“You made him worse.”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“But you did. And now we might lose Kurt.”
Posted: Tue Aug 30, 2005 1:08 am
Heheh, I liked Kurt and Brian's verbal spar. But things are looking worse and worse for poor Kurt...
Resurrection Part Three
Posted: Mon Sep 05, 2005 2:11 am
Kurt was walking down the streets of London, his image inducer on to make some people believe that a young man similar to Errol Flynn was walking past them, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed down with a look of utter misery on his face.
Thoughts were racing through his mind like water, and Kurt hated it. At one point he actually stopped in a flinching manner, bumping into someone who was walking behind him.
“Oy! Watch where you’re walking there, mate!” the man cried indignantly. Kurt stepped back for a moment, and he could only blink in confusion at the man.
“I’m sorry.” He said, just as the man was walking away. He sighed softly, and he leaned against the wall of a store. “I’m sorry…” he repeated, more softly. He closed his eyes, and to everyone around him he looked like a madman talking to himself.
“I’m sorry, Meggan…” he whispered softly. “I promised…”
What Kurt didn’t know was that he was being taped.
What Kurt also didn’t know was that the camera was a woman with cameras for eyes who was standing across the street from him, a smile plastered on her fake face as she focused in on the misery on his face.
What Kurt didn’t know was that he was part of the most popular show in about ten different dimensions and worlds.
Welcome to the next installment of As World 616 Turns.
Posted: Mon Sep 05, 2005 3:27 am
Oh, this seems like it's going to get funny! I also like the verbal sparring with Brian.
Posted: Mon Sep 05, 2005 10:15 am
[quote] What Kurt didn’t know was that he was part of the most popular show in about ten different dimensions and worlds.[/quote]
*fiddles with TV reception* oooh ...
"as World 616 Turns"? isnt that based on some old soapie? "As the World Turns"?
Posted: Mon Sep 05, 2005 12:47 pm
you know it is! and if he's in a show, then you know who's coming up next! Yee haw! I haven't felt that good in months! It feels good to be writing about Kurt again!
Resurrection Part Four
Posted: Mon Sep 05, 2005 12:48 pm
“Do a close up of his face!”
“Close up on the face on camera two, boss.”
“Hmm… Oh oh!” Meaty hands clapped together in excitement, and a bony yellow finger was stabbed at the television set that showed what each camera could see. “He’s starting to tear up! Close up and follow that tear on cameras two and four! Then I want some thoughts brought up on the microphone! I swear if I lose even a moment of misery on him it will be your head!”
“Right, boss!” the tech crews worked right away, adjusting cameras as instructed and turning on the interior microphone, capturing Kurt’s thoughts and playing them over the shot of a tear rolling down his cheek, still disguised as the cheek of Errol Flynn.
“How many promises have I broken in my lifetime? How could I allow her to die like that? And why didn’t I try to fight for her afterwards? Ach, I am such a bastard…”
“Oh angst how do I love thee? Let me count the ways; one million, two million…five million viewers?!”
The speaker in question slammed a hand down on one of the control panels, grinding his teeth together and causing small sparks to come out.
“Why have the ratings dropped for my new show?” he demanded, turning to a young woman dressed in the red outfit akin to something a bellhop in a hotel would wear, including the little hat. For a moment she could only stare at the screen that showed that the viewing rate had indeed fallen. Then she gave a little twitch with her right eye before she turned back to her boss, chewing a nail faintly and shrugging.
“I don’t know…” Minor-domo admitted softly. Her face gave another twitch, and the idea seemed to really hit her, and she proceeded to go into another one of her mindless rambles. “But if the ratings go down…Ohmygosh ohmygolly! Then our money goes down! And-we’ll-be-shut-down-forever-and-no-one-will-watch-any-of-our-shows-and-then-we’ll-get-fired-and-not-have-a-job-anymore-and-that-wouldn’t-be-good-because-then-I-wouldn’t-work-for-you-anymore-and-that’s-not-good-because-than-that-means-that-no-one-was-watching-your-show-and-if-no-one-was-watching-your-show-then-that-means-we-get-fired-and-if-we-get-fired…”
She proceeded to faint.
“Is she done yet?” Mojo asked with a sigh, turning to a lithe man with long hair adorned in both golden jewelry and clothes.
“For the moment.” Major-domo said, stepping over the body of Minor-domo. “And as to your problem, it’s because all you’ve been showing is Nightcrawler crying. It can get boring, sir.”
“Well maybe if a certain person in the room had gotten the new body for my camera sooner, we would have hit gold all ready now wouldn’t we?” Mojo growled, his spider-like robot legs clicking on the ground as he walked towards Major-domo in a threatening manner. Major-domo gulped, and he took a step back slightly.
“Now now, sir!” he said, holding up his hands in defense. “The man I hired to fix her up and install one of your new cameras is known as an expert! He put in those cameras for that reality show you made remember? “1602*” I think it was called? He said that she would be ready in two days…”
“If he doesn’t get it ready by tomorrow it’s going to be your head.” Mojo warned. “Spiral did say she wanted to start using live test dummies again for her sword skills…”
“The Re-Animator will have it done by tomorrow then!” Major-domo agreed.
“The Re-Animator? Wasn’t that a book or a movie or something? Never mind! Just get that camera up and ready! Once it’s in place we can use it to film the pilot of my new show.”
“Or course, sir. And what is the name of this new show called?” Major-domo asked, glad that the conversation had turned nice once more. Fireworks proceeded to flare up and explode around Mojo as he lifted his arms in the sky, his face lit up in a wide and toothy grin that made one want to vomit and laugh at the same time.
“I shall call it… ‘Promises: The Resurrection of Meggan…and the Death of Nightcrawler’! Catchy huh?”
*1602…yes, the Neil Gaiman mini-series! That comic rocked hard.
Posted: Mon Sep 05, 2005 7:15 pm
I haven't seen that soap, but the first thing that pops in my mind is The Truman Show
Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 12:42 pm
I haven't either - i'm allergic to non sc-fi television soap operas, but for some reason i pick up little factoids of names and things like by osmosis or something...
*leans over computer screen and rubs fingers* oooh, its getting interesting....
Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 1:45 pm
... wow, that scene is so (sadly) realistic! I hate the vulture spirit of TV show producers... Angst is all very well except it should be used sparingly with my favourite characters and not rejoiced in...