#BECAUSE HE'S JUST A HUGE FUCKSTAIN

[spirirsstuff]

i give myself headaches too often-

[talesofhavekostca-blog]

Shangrila

Jack Burroughs

December 27th, 2014

Havekost, CA

“Joint.” Jesus says behind me, slightly below the music blaring from Jake’s speakers. I am uncertain if this is actually what he said, so I turn down the radio and yell “What?!”

“I said ‘Light up the fucking joint.’ Don’t you have a couple in your cigarette pack?” 

“Uh..-” I check my breast shirt pocket and pull out my near empty cigarette pack, the contents inside include three cigarettes, two joints and gram of wax in my cigarette cellophane. “Oh yeah, here.” I light up one and hand it to Jesus, and Jake puts up a fit,”Hey, Shouldn’t that’ve been passed to me? I’m the goddamned captain of this vessel! ”

Jesus hits the joints and passes it to Jake, “Dude, chill. Here.”

“Why do you care?” I say as Jesus hands him the joint and Jake inhales and says to me, “I’m pilot, I drive the big metal death machine. You are co-pilot, you handle knobs and or drive for me if I’m too drunk. Jesus, is the passenger. His opinion of anything doesn’t matter until we’re at the concert.”

Jesus says,”It’s because I’m mexican huh?”

“What? No.” Jake says horrified, “You didn’t call shotgun.”

“Oh shut up. That’s retarded. Fucking white people.”

The joint ends up in my hand again and I bogart it for a bit before handing to it Jesus. “Well I’m happy we finally got a night out for ourselves boys, tonight will comprise of alcohol and fun.” I say with confidence.

“Who’re we seeing again?” Jake asks, “Some shitty local bands, I think.” I say.

“We gotta support our local music scene maaan.” Jesus says sarcastically, he then adds, “Also, Jack’s girlfriend’s band’s playing there.” Way to blow my cover,comrade. Et Tu, Brute?

Jake yells “THE FUCKING CUNT’S GOING TO BE THERE.”

I say quietly, “Please don’t call her that. I’m seeing her and-”

He interrupts me, “YOU’RE PLOWING HER AND YOU’RE THINKING WITH YOUR DICK. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR NIGHT OUT YOU HEDONISTIC FUCKSTAIN! SHE IS THE SISTER OF MY ENEMY YOU BASTARD!”

Before I can plea my case, Jesus speaks up, “Man, leave him alone, he didn't know til this morning. She didn’t even tell him and I already knew since I jammed with them once. They are pretty good, especially the chick guitarist. Oh man, I’d eat her out for days. No bathroom breaks.”

Jake, dumbfounded, “I just imagined some blond girl with a mohawk, chained to your bed, covered in her own waste. You sure can paint a picture, can’t you? Wait, who has the joint?”

Jesus and I both, “You do.” 

Jake looks down at the half smoked joint in his hand and says meekly to no one in particular,“Oh...sorry. Here, Iago, light this.” He shoves it in my general direction and I try to re-light it. “That doesn’t even make sense, Iago didn’t betray Othello with his arch enemy’s sister.” I say, succeeding at my joint’s reignition, “Do you ever pay attention during Mr. Cruickspice’s drama class?”

“No, why would I, drama girls are the worst. If you’re looking for damaged, there’s the place to go. Also,  you admit your betrayal Jack? Eh, whatever, we’ll still make a night of it won’t we boys?” Jake smiles and I have a sick feeling in my stomach as we exit off the freeway, I can’t imagine whatever he’s planning. 

’m on the highway, a miles sign tells me “HAVEKOST 5 MILES, CENTRAL CITY 8 MILES,  ST. FRANCIS 18 MILES,DRESDEN FALLS 23 MILES”

How the fuck did I make it out here? I can at least be thankful that home is the closest as I walk down the highway, my shirt back on completely. I check my pack to see if I have a cigarette. I do, but notice that I now have a tiny car instead of the wax in the cellophane. That must have happened back with the homeless/furry thing. I light my last cigarette and a sign tells me that a diner is down the road a half a mile and I scream ‘thank god’ to the vastness that are the stars, I’m kind of still tripping.

 I make it to the diner and inside there is just a few waitresses and a few random people. No cops, all that matters. 

I sit down at the counter and ask for coffee. I check my wallet and luckily I still have everything. The Waitress says to me “You look like shit, hard night?”

“Ma’am I was in the middle of a furry orgy after getting split from my friends. I have seen the end of days and it isn’t soon enough.” She gets another waitress to cover me. I get my coffee and somebody decides to turn on the tv. The news plays. 

A older white male, with perfect almost square teeth says” Good Morning Havoc City! I’m Tom Thompson. Top Story: an Orgy in Black Justice Park was stopped by local police a few hours ago. Apparently a group of people dressed up in animal costumes were having a decadent display on public property. Excuse me as we switch to to Debra Hunn for more. Viewer Discretion is Advised “

Oh shit.

“Hello, Tom! I’m at Black Justice Park where hours ago, hedonists were having sex in this very public setting. We have video of them. Here’s one where they are doing the act of fornication.”

Yep, on the tv there is blurred mountain of people in animal suits fucking. I’m speechless. 

“Here is another video of them running from the scene, where we also found a...ahh..a random bystander in the mayhem urinating!” The video follows a group of them, one being the Dalmation, However I had caught the eye of the Camera Man , who turns, to see me, half of my shirt on and the other over my shoulder and I have a huge smile and I can make out myself saying “Would you like some tea, helicopter?”  And with my other hand, my dick, surprisingly uncensored peeing. Oh my god. I’m ruined.

Everyone in the Diner looks at me. One of them laughs, the others just ignore me. I ask the room if I can use a charger so I can use my phone for a ride. No one answers but a younger but still worn out waitress let me use her’s.

[brighteyedbadwolf]

Honestly, I'd love to read your answers to /all/ of the "get to know your author" meme thing. You're an amazing writer and I'd love to pick your brains about your methods and headcanons and inspirations! :o But to limit myself, could I hear your thoughts on questions 1, 4, 18, 25? :)

1)is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

Yeah my actual, original fiction. I have two things I've been sitting on because Insecurity. 1 is a Cryptids/Monster Romance that smashed into Indiana Jones, 2 is Solarpunk Noir meets Old-School Fae. I should work on both BUT I'm like “who would even read this shit”

4)  favorite character you’ve written

Mids and Gunner are definitely the most FUN I've had with characters, but I have a huge gaping soft spot for Trio, because while I have no medical experience, I roll healers in every form of gaming and the amount of shit I put up with… ugh. His angry ranting at idiots? Yeah. Husband won the “best wife” competition with his gaming buddies when I joined a large PvP match and ended up screaming “jesus tittyfucking christ what is wrong with you, yes you, you crotch-blistering fuckstain” at a co-player. I keep my mic off when in PvP for specifically this reason. They heard through his mic. Upstairs.

18) Already answered, so,

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

ALL OF THEM. Every single thing I have ever written has at least one song. Most of them have several. Some of them were written BECAUSE of songs.

Clone works tend to heavily feature Five Finger Death Punch, Demon Hunter and All That Remains

25copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

Have some extremely self-indulgent smut prelude ft. Catch and The Waitresses

-----

“Hmm....That one,” Vrei says decisively, and the bottom falls out of his stomach when he realizes just who she's oh-so-casually pointing to.

He's in his blacks, like so many others, missing the intricate, beautifully painted kit that sets him apart even from the other Commanders, but he's impossible to mistake for anyone else. His posture, his composure, his easy, lazy confidence that says “I can break you in half but you really don't want to make me put out the effort.” And that's before he turns the other way, showing off that moon-silver cybernetic eye and that gorgeous scar where he took a fucking lightsaber to the fucking face and fucking survived.

“Vrei, shit, Vrei, no. Not--I can't!” he hisses, panicked.

Silais pets his hair gently, teasing more volume into the front with her nails. “What's the matter, love?”

Vrei smirks and leans down, clucking like a nuna into his ear. “Bawwk bok bokbok bawwwwk.”

“No, Vrei, you don't--you don't understand. That's Commander Wolffe.”

“Darling, we live here. You think we don't know who that is? His reputation? The… antics he and his boys get up to?” Silais asks, deceptively gentle.

“Exactly!” he hisses, fidgeting, squirming in his chair enough that it probably looks like Silais is giving him a lapdance or some shit. “I can't--I’m just--They’re--He is--”

Oh fuck he's going to start hyperventilating.

“You're worried, given that he has all those rough, rowdy boys of his, he won't appreciate a sweet, shiny little thing like you. Why would you think something like that, love?” Silais asks quietly, still stroking his hair, and he shudders, freshly clipped nails digging into the arms of the chair. So many reasons. He doesn't want to think about it. He’s pathetic, he’s--

He's being forced to lift his head up, Silais’ hand like a band of durasteel under his jaw and her voice cold and hard as ice. “You look at a Lady when she is speaking to you, Twenty-Two.”

For all that their owner makes her play Fire to Vrei’s Water in the stupid (really speciest) themed poledancing routines, this is the real Silais. Cool, collected, utterly in control and he loves her dearly for it.

“Yes ma'am,” he answers, his breathing slowing.

“Now then,” she says, smoothing her thumb over his bitten bottom lip, now slightly swollen and even more devastatingly kissable than usual. “CT-0022, are you or are you not 'the prettiest piece of ass in this fuckdamn bar’?”

He whines, leaning into her hand. “Silais, that was Drunk Catch, that's different, he’s an idiot, he--”

“You had best not be implying that you lied to me,” Silais purrs softly, and he shakes his head abruptly, careful not to dislodge her grip.

“No, ma’am, never!”

She smiles then, sly and slow. Aw, fuck.

“Then go get him, love.”