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Bodnoirbabe
Apr 30, 2007

I announce my intention to compete!

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Bodnoirbabe
Apr 30, 2007

Holy poo poo....I want to live in that world.

Bodnoirbabe
Apr 30, 2007

Ugh. The low word count is not my friend. 500 exactly.

The Colors of Revolution

The new clothing for Worker Set Alpha-Class 7 was about to take the catwalk when the lights went out.

Georgiana folded her hands on her grey skirt and waited patiently. This was obviously supposed to happen, was a part of the show. The Textile Ministry was known for it's flawless presentations, nothing went wrong. But the darkness continued and doubt began to eat at her sureness.

Suddenly, brightly, a spotlight shot on and focused in on the form of a toned and lanky man. His body glistened, shiny with sweat, showcasing the cut of his sinewy body. Georgiana immediately noticed he was naked from the waste up, but as her eyes began to adjust to the light, she realized that was not the most shocking part. She, and just about everyone else in the room, realized the man was wearing color. He had sewn patches of textured, colored cloth to his gray slacks. Blues, greens, violets, reds, every color ever imagined it seemed. Georgiana tried to avert her eyes from the man, but she felt compelled to stare, drinking in the chroma.

Rock music began to blast through the speakers of the hall and the spotlight pulsed to the beat. On stage, the man began to swing and sway to the music. He thrust his hips, flashing smiles at the people watching, and strutting up and down the cat walk, speaking to people as he went. He danced his way over to Georgiana and stared straight into her eyes.

"Fashion, not fascism! Live in color!"

Entranced she watched him saunter away until she became aware of a different beat. It was only when she heard screams from behind that she realized the Compliance Auditors were breaking down the doors. As they crashed into the hall, she lay herself on the ground in a prostrate position. The man stared at the approaching Auditors in their gray armor,and then broke into a run. Reaching the end the runway, he made a flying leap, crashing into their upturned shields. They were on him in seconds, beating him into submission with their clubs. Efficiently subdued, he was dragged away. Watching them take him, Georgiana noticed a patch of vibrant red had ripped off his pants and lay within reach. She snatched at the cloth quickly and tucked it into her blouse.

After everyone cleared through security, she headed home. Once inside, she pulled out the square of fabric. The sharp contrast of the red against her pale skin absorbed her, it's richness drawing her into it's depths. With sudden resolve, she went over to her desk and pulled out a sewing kit. Carefully threading a needle, she took her skirt and turned it inside out, meticulously sewing the red patch along the inside seam. Putting the skirt on, nothing could be seen, but she could feel the soft fabric against her shin, burning into her skin.

"Live in color." She mulled the words over in her head and smiled. Fashion. Let the revolution begin.

Bodnoirbabe
Apr 30, 2007

Hooray I didn't lose! This was super fun and I'm glad you let me participate even if I did sign up late. I can't wait to see what Week III brings!

Is it just me or did some of the stories seem more apocalyptic rather than dystopic? I had a totally different story but scraped it when I figured it was too much A and not B.

areyoucontagious posted:

I have to admit, I have real problems with women protagonists. They are always either super weak or super aggressive ( like in an overcompensating way). I can never just write normal women. I blame the misogyny inherent in society. :colbert:

It's easy. Just think of a man and take away reason and accountability!

Bodnoirbabe
Apr 30, 2007

Aw gently caress. I've never tried Noir style writing.

Trial by fire. I'm in.

Bodnoirbabe
Apr 30, 2007

Well, someone's got to be first. 1497 words.

Control Within

The scene couldn't have been more gruesome if it had been written by Dashiell Hammett himself. Michael was chained to the wall of one of the interior prison cells. Blood dripped from his nose and ears. Deep lacerations cut through his wrists, evidence that he had struggled mightily against his attacker. His flaming sword lay in a dank puddle across the cell, guttering. Cauterized into his chest by his own sword were the words:

SHE BELONGS TO ME

"What a waste," Esphaerel thought. Being a demon, he wasn't very fond of angels per se, but Michael had been alright. They both had similar interests - the protection and caretaking of Sarah. But someone or something was making its way through her protectors. Yesterday, he'd dealt with the murder of Heero Yuy, and the week before, the double elimination of Vegeta and Piccolo. The attacks were getting more vicious and the same message was always scrawled at the crime scene.

"I'm gonna have to hunt down whatever hell-creature this is all by myself." he muttered. There were two others left but they were effectively useless. That didn't mean they wouldn't know anything, however.

He walked down the long, stone corridors of the mind-prison, his footsteps echoing in the emptyness. Somewhere, water was dripping incessantly, the sound bouncing off the walls and pounding against his head. There wasn't much light down here to speak of, but that didn't matter to a demon. They prefered it dark and even a little murky. Sure beat the hell out of sunshine and dandelions.

Exiting the prison, he looked out on a vast plain and saw a large castle looming in the sky. He knew he'd find Tifa Lockhart lounging around inside. He didn't much like her. Always going on about saving the planet and poo poo like that. Not to mention she lacked a certain sexual something he preferred. Sarah may be a woman, but he preferred men. Since he had control of Sarah, this made her a female gay man. He guessed that if she had control, he'd be a male lesbian. His ruminations on the complexities of sexuality came to a stop when he approached Tifa.

"I guess you've probably already heard about Michael." he said as way of greeting.

"Things are so scary!" she cried.

"I need to figure this out fast. Did Michael say anything to you?"

"He did mention feeling nervous. He said he felt a very powerful force looming over everything." Tifa stared at him with trepidation. She usually had a strong aura around her, gave off a vibe that she'd easily kick your rear end if you just gave her a reason, despite her chipper personality. But not today, not now. There was fear coming from her, he could smell it.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Strong, pretty woman like you can't be beaten by anyone."

He turned from her, heading toward the dense, dark forests on the opposite side of the plains.

The walk didn't take long even though the forests looked miles away. That's the way things were here, locations were just a thought away. Esphaerel sighed with relief as he entered the darkness of the forest. The sunlight of the plains made his eyes hurt and his skin burn. Here in the shady cover of the trees he felt more like his old self. He gave a low growl in satisfaction.

"Hello to you, too, "a voice purred from the shadows. He looked to his left and saw two bright yellow eyes staring from the darkness.

"Calisto, I need to talk to you about what's been happening." The eyes blinked lazily then he emerged. A bi-pedal jaguar stepped into a beam of dim light and paused. Calisto was deeply aware of what kind of picture he made and loved the attention. When you're as muscular and lanky as he was, you drank up the adoration like milk from a dish. Esphaerel felt his nether region tighten in response to the adonis before him, his heart picking up speed. Outwardly he gave no sign of arousal. It wouldn't do to lose his head at this juncture.

"What do you know?"

"I don't know how useful my information would be to you, but if you come a little closer, I'll whisper what I know in your ear."

"This is serious. You could be next."

"I suspect I might be, but somehow I don't feel so scared when I've got you around. Stay with me, at least for the night. You know Sarah is perfectly okay with us being together."

Esphaerel tried hard to keep his steely composure but beads of sweat glistening on his forehead belied his true feelings. Calisto crept closer to him, trailing his paw down Esphaerel's chest enticingly. Esphaerel was about to give in until he felt the sharpness of Calisto's nails against his throat.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you get in the way. Sarah and I have a plan. You've been in control for far too long and it's time we took her back." Calisto swiped his claws across Esphaerel's neck, opening a large cut. Esphaerel barely reacted before he punched Calisto full across the jaw. He hadn't seen it coming, as he'd expected the swipe to fell Esphaerel. What Calisto hadn't counted on was the amazing healing capacity of demons. No sooner had the cut opened, it had closed. Esphaerel stood over Calisto's fallen form and looked down with pity. Such a pretty face and he'd have such an ugly bruise once he woke up. Just to make sure he couldn't meddle any further, Esphaerel tied him to a nearby tree.

He then thought about what Calisto had said. He and Sarah had a plan? That was impossible. He was Sarah. He had control over her. Unless...

With a thought, Esphaerel found himself back in the prison cells. He immedietly set off for the deepest part. The light grew dimmer and dimmer, the air more acrid. Lower and lower still he went, passing branching halls and countless doors, descending thousands of steps. Finally, he came to the bottom of the stairs and stepped out into a single hallway. The door at the end had been barred and sealed, but now he found it cracked open. He slowly opened it wider and saw her, his Sarah.

"Why, Sarah?"

She turned to him and anger flashed into her eyes. The unibrow on her forehead furrowed deeply under her greasy, stringy hair.

"You've ruined me, Esphaerel! Everyone laughs at me. People think I'm mentally retarded or psychotic. My family resents that I wont get a job and support myself!" she snapped, yellow spittle flying from her chapped lips.

"Now that's not fair, Sarah. You know you have fibromyalgia and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome."

"It doesn't matter! My life is ruined by you, by all of you. They laugh at me on the internet. They tell me to seek therapy. I can't go on like this. I have to take back over. I have to end you, all of you, if I'm ever going to be normal!"

She gave a guttural scream and flung herself at him, hands raised to scratch at his face with dirty, stubby nails. He tried to prepare himself, but was knocked off balance when her large form crashed into him. Sarah quickly jumped on top of him and scratched at his eyes. Esphaerel knocked her off and stood over her. She kicked out with a stumpy leg at his knee, bending it backwards. He gasped out in pain and then cracked it back into place. Then Sarah was behind him, jumping on his back and biting his neck with her plaque-encrusted teeth. Esphaerel backed into a wall over and over again, crushing her until he felt her release and crumple to the floor. Breathing heavily, he turned to watch her. She was heaving with hysterical sobs.

"No," she moaned. "You're not real! You don't exist! Leave me alone and give me my life back!"

"I can't do that, Sarah. We're soul-bonded. I know what's best for you and I'll keep good control over you."

Sarah whimpered and went limp, resigning herself to her fate. Esphaerel pulled her up and chained her to the walls. He made sure to use double locks and seals to keep her from escaping again. He knew what was best for her, for them. Being an Otherkin was a blessing, she'd see.

Esphaerel checked into the control center of Sarah's head and looked at what was going on. From what he saw, he was currently having an argument with her mother.

"You just don't understand because you're just a straight, normal, hetero white woman! But I'm not! I'll never be like that. You need to accept that I'm not a normal, mom! Being a demonic jaguar trans-gendered lesbian Otherkin who's married to Tifa from FFVII is who I am, so check your privilege!"

Yeah, Esphaerel thought. Things would be just fine with him in control.

Bodnoirbabe
Apr 30, 2007

:ohdear:

I'm worried.

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Bodnoirbabe
Apr 30, 2007

Well, I didn't lose. I will chuck that as a win. Also, I poo poo Venus De Milos. :smug: