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About Me

Found 32 results

  1. So, as most people know, I can't really function without my kids. I love them so much it's painful being away from them. Trust me when I say I try to put my thoughts and efforts into other things, it's not as helpful as I wished it was. I miss my kiddos. Plain and simple fact. I try to drowned out the loneliness, the not having Troy around to tell me seventy different stories in one breathedness, with chatting with friends, with sleeping, with coding. It's not nearly as helpful as I'd wish it would be. It really sucks when I want to chat and no one is on to talk. Know I miss my babies. I miss my Troy. I miss my Fae. You are my light. You are what I live for. Thursday cannot come fast enough.
  2. Well I'm trying to get myself settled into new things, including a new theme for the site. I'm going to try and post more regularly again. I'm not sure I'll do daily posts like I tried to do before but I may try to do a post every three days. Other projects I'm working on right now are 3 story blogs. One is Knights of Cydonia One is Card Rebellion and the last is I <3 Fangs. The last one is a collaborative one with Ghost but the rest are just for me. I'm thinking I may start pouring my RP energy into these instead. I've been feeling the lack lusterness of just everything. It's likely the time of the year and all that jazz but things will hopefully go better. Move goals: Start Yoga again Write a post a day for one of my 5 blogs (Morrgasm, Morrigan's Madness, KoC, CR or I <3 Fangs). Try new dinner or dessert (or both) dish once a week. Post an image a day to Instagram. I hope you enjoy the new theme. I'll start displaying more of my space work as I go. Edit: Added instagram thing onto the list.
  3. So I recently had a falling out with one of my oldest RP friends. I'm very tore up about it, it makes me very sad that this has happened as it was all around a bad situation. It was a lot of shit that piled up to a large culmination of me putting my foot down. Now let me explain, the aggression wasn't outrightly directed about me but that doesn't mean that it would not in some way affect me. It's naive to think that something that is aimed at other people in my life won't somehow affect how I feel or the things that go on and the way that those people feel. I'm a very empathetic person, I tend to be angry when people are angry and I'm sad when their sad. This doesn't mean I'm being manipulated, in fact, quite the contrary. It means that I'm being informed instead of ignorant. The way people treat other people is a very important aspect of knowing and caring for someone else and seeing the way that this person attacked people that I knew really harmed me, harmed my feelings to know that I am friends with such a vindictive person. Now please don't mistake, I am human, I am vindictive and I lash out when hurt but I feel that they were starting to push the limits too far and push the aggression past an appropriate level. I watched it happen. I tried to cull it in in a positive manner. My positivity did not diminish their negativity. After a tireless effort to try and stem the behavior with subtle hints that they were being such I finally had to put my foot down and tell them that their words and actions were hurting me and I asked them to make a choice between my friendship and this vindictive grudge that they were on a crusade to express to harm people around me. Unfortunately they chose the grudge I think overall, what hurts me the most is that the person couldn't see past the blind rage of hurt to the fact that instead of mending a wound they were making more. They blame me for being manipulated when I made every decision and every approach myself without consult to anyone else from start to finish as well as I was the one that identified anything I brought to them as it was not harmful to the other people (it was but that was not why I brought it to them) but because it was indirectly harmful to me. I know some things hurt but that's no reason to hurt other people. I hope that everything gets better for anyone hurting right now and I certainly hope that when you are hurt that you can see past that and try not to hurt other people and if you do at least recognize it eventually and apologize. If you don't, then I'm sorry.
  4. So, as everyone knows, I roleplay. I love to roleplay, I love to write collaboratively with other people and I love to simply enjoy people. Well, one thing about roleplayers is that we like specific genres because that's the flavor of writing we like to enjoy. One thing that perturbs me is that so many people akin the work "fantasy" to elves and dwarves when, fantasy is anything that isn't realistic. Now the thing that really confuses me is that the word itself is immediately constituted with something medieval. So that got me to thinking: What is fantasy exactly? Well, fantasy is anything that isn't reality basically. So why the label of Medieval? Probably something akin to media stating that Medieval movies are "Fantasy" and that Science Fiction is "Sci-Fi" but really? They are leaving off words, words that are important to people that write. I even stress to say that a Historical roleplay is a "Historical Fantasy". No matter the time frame as it is not reality. It's not like me typing up this long babbling post about my confusion of the word itself. So Fantasy is a word to mean, not real life. My point is, when I ask what sort of Fantasy I'm looking to find what your flavor of fantasy you prefer. All roleplays are fantasy (even the real life based ones) so it easier to define your genre. I am a fantasy enthusiast, I stray toward Science Fiction more than Modern or Medieval but I enjoy Fantasy. How about you?
  5. Okay, so I administrate over at Distant Fantasies and as such, on a regular basis get to see new sites or existing sites as I just browse the DF Directory. As such I find sites that strike my fancy and while I am not a chronic site joiner I love to be able to suggest sites to my friends and I've noticed this blaring trend of waffling. Now I say that and your first instinct is 'wtf is waffling' but waffling is a failure for one to make up their mind. Mind you, I'm a queen waffler IRL. Next question you ask is 'wtf are they waffling about'? Well that's where it gets interesting. It's their word count. Now mind you, I'm an avid anti-word count advocate. I find that I have as much potency in a one line post as some people feel that you only get from hundreds, if not thousands, of words. That notwithstanding though, I don't like reading things like: We're a no word count site but...... But what? Are you a no word count site or aren't you? There is no buts in such a statement unless you're not, in fact, a no word count site. If you add in a "but we like to see at least three paragraphs" or "we prefer that you have at least 200 words" then why don't you make that you're minimum? A "no word count" site means that I can post one word or I can post ten thousand but there is absolutely no restriction on how many I am required to put into that post box. After I read this and it infuriated me, I talked to my boyfriend Cricket about this. Mind you, my boyfriend is a DnD based roleplayer, he uses his dice to determine things while I use communication with my partner. I asked him if he had this type of thing in his campaign, these types of players and he said that he did except his players are overly wordy for the sake of trying to cover all of there basis so they don't get killed. "I turned the knob to the left really slowly before pushing the door open, just as slowly as to not make a sound" and we both didn't know of a single person that was legitimately that careful, especially when you consider the setting. I explained to him that for my format that people felt themselves on a higher rank than you due to the amount of words that they post, no matter how relevant or important those words were to be able to progress the story line. The conversation continued and he asked about how relevant the post content was and I advised him 70-90 percent of it is fluff to fill the word count or time travel posting (time travel posting is responding to parts of the previous post because the previous roleplayer continued past that point and didn't giv eyou ample opportunity to respond even though your character, would in fact, respond). Time travel posting incites more time travel posting which incites more fluff to fill an arbitrary number for a ranking system that only exists in the minds of the players themselves. I'm a 17 year play by post roleplayer. I have been through the advanced years when 1200 words were the minimum to be considered a part of the roleplay elite of "Advanced" and I've been through the years that 600 words was that and now the new trend is "no word count but". I'm an advanced roleplayer and after all this time I've come to finally a zen point in my roleplaying time to have finally figured out that: This is just a game. I shouldn't feel like getting onto my roleplay sites is a job. There is no reason for this and I should feel like my relaxation hobby is a chore. Word counts make it a chore. A word count is an arbitrary number to keep up a fascist belief that more is better. I'm going to fill you in, that if it doesn't contribute to the plot then it's likely not worth your time to type it out. How many books have you read that a character inner monologues for pages, upon pages, upon pages, that actually keep your interest and doesn't progress the plot. Sure you can talk about your childhood tragedy for 400 words but how does that help your character now, or the plot that you are trying to progress but posting about how your character shifts uncomfortably and gets a look in their eye that someone might be able to see, that's proper writing. Yes, I reduced 400 words into a single sentence but the single sentence is far more potent. Word counts kill the muse. I've read posts that are amazingly long that give me absolutely nothing to reply to and one liners that speak volumes in themselves that inspire me to write a thousand words. If the situation calls for the post then post it but don't strangle me with your words because you are obligated or you feel a better sense of self by posting a longer post. It perpetuates a lie that your quality cannot be seen by posting something less then some arbitrary number. Confucius say: "Do not use a cannon to kill a mosquito." I can't say how appropriate this is. Your concise words should speak the volumes in your character actions. Really in the end you will play the site you're comfortable with and if that's the site that requires 3 paragraphs or nine million words per post, then so be it. I just request that you stop your waffling and either say your no word count because you are or say your a word/paragraph count site because that's what you are. There is no reason to have a but in your rule about count minimums if you have one set in your mind. Make up your fucking mind.
  6. Morrigan

    Boyfriends

    You know your boyfriend is perfect for you when they understand the priorities in your life. Not only does he understand but he goes out of his way to fix those things for or with you no matter how frustrating or annoying you can be. He snuggles you even though you are a giant and it's difficult. He will get you anything despite how sure you are that you can get it yourself. Today was one of those days. Something I enjoy and take pride in are my websites and when my sites are broken I get stressed, it's worse when I have no way to fix them in a timely manner. (Like right now since I'm at work). I spazz and the boyfriend comes to the rescue by helping me. Talk about remote tech supporting. Fabulous person that knows how much work I put into everything. H one of the few people that puts up with my nuances and my small annoying things. Not many people that you can find that appreciates you because of you predictability.
  7. "You've never seen anything like this next act. You've seen fire dancers and fire spinners the next act is... well a fire master. Presenting the one and only Ignaciooooooo Flint!" the man in the center spun around in a circle to the empty circus tent as if he were introducing this person. A slow clap echoed toward me from the closed entrance. "You do have quite a flair for being a ringmaster. It's too bad that I have that job." "Mordria," the man stumbled over his own shoes falling to the floor. "I... I didn't mean any offense I just...." "You just what? Felt the desire to see what it was like to be me? It's not as easy as being in an empty room," she smiled her bluish pale skin shining with a strange luminosity that only she seemed to have. He found it unnerving although her other features were equally as disturbing. The stitches near her mouth were certainly not helpful with her frown as she approached him. "I just," he swallowed hard as he scrambled to his feet, wiping himself off. "I like what you do, I wish I could do it." He didn't look to her, he knew what was coming next. She would reprimand him and tell him to stop dreaming. "Unfortunately for you young one, in a circus of the damned no one retires. Take me for example. I have been around for longer then I remember. Victim of voodoo and vampirism. I barely keep myself together yet I have not left. I cannot leave and I cannot die. I will be ringmaster for eternity," she informed him solemnly. No reprimand, no lecture. She was reaching out for his help. "Perhaps I could do your job. If you let me, give you a break for a few centuries?" "Haha," she laughed shortly a smile brought to her face. "That is cute. You cannot handle my job though," she picked up his shoes, holding them out to him. "The others would eat you alive." "Not if you help me," he pleaded as she dropped the boots into his arms. "I can do this." "The woman reached up and stroked the side of his face. "Sweet vampire," she said smiling to expose her own teeth, "what makes you think that I would let you do my job?" "You-ou-ou sound so, uh..." he looked hugging the boots to his chest. "You sounded like you needed a break. I guess I was wrong." "Oh, I'm tired but you're scared of me." "Who wouldn't be?" he gulped. "You're right," she smiled darkly to him as he started to back away from her. "If you run you might be able to get away from me. Vampire blood sustains me far better then human blood," she said with a cocky raise of her brow. The man started out of the tent from the direction that she came in, pulling on his left boot. He continued on holding his right boot in his hand. "Run, run little vampire," she whispered as she looked over her shoulder. The man continued to run through the woods between the circus and the small town. All he could hear was the thudding of his footsteps and the branches as the slapped him. He was getting away. She was going to let him live. He started to slow down a smile creeping onto his face as he slumped against the nearby tree. He breathed a sigh of relief, a human action that showed his youth. "I made it," he said quietly to himself. A light laugh came from behind the tree, "You can't think I'd give up that easily could you?" the woman said as she stepped from behind the tree, her black boots quiet even with the underbrush. The man closed his eyes shoving the picture of the woman in the black and white corset out of his mind as he began to pray muttering to himself. "If you meet her, tell her that I still want to be saved," she whispered, her cold breath on his neck. He wished this wasn't his fate, he didn't want to be stuck there forever but this? The cool lips of death brushed against the skin of his neck. Then there was the searing pain of her fangs as they sank into his neck. Slowly the pain ebbed into a soft numbness as his right shoe fell from his arm and thudded to the ground. PS. Weekend with the family was fabulous. I love you Cricket. I love you Fae. I love you Troy.
  8. So my boyfriend today said I need to focus my site creating juices toward one site and get the traffic up enormously and then from there market and see what we can do about possibly revenuing it and making it to where I don't have to have a conventional job anymore. Thinking about it, I agree but where to start? I don't have enough motivation most of the time to keep to one project (my current ten projects proving such a thing) and figuring out a way to drive traffic to my site is elusive to me. Of course I'm sure the first site that you think I should get going is probably Morrigan's Madness and that seems almost a good idea. It's the site I've had active and going for the longest and it's also my blog but I don't know of much that I could legitimately talk about that would drive more people to my site. I don't have much originality to be honest. I talk about my strife in life and who wants to hear that? Not even I like to hear myself whine and yet I do it on here like I'm some entitled blogger or something. <_< Not really but you get what I mean. Then there is my new site splash page Morrgasm which should be some sort of Morrigan content site with links to all of my projects, what I'm working on, what I'm doing. It'll likely have a feed from here to keep the information flowing. It seems like a good idea but what would I publish to this site to make it worth visiting other then links to my other sites. Transferring content I don't think is a good thing to focus on but I think that if I make it my MAIN site then it would be worth it. It would be like the ultimate splash page. Next possibility is to really focus one of my two comic ideas. Those have the most monetary potential if you consider it. There is Morrapocalypse or Wootflakes. Now Morrapocalypse is the Apocalyptic/Dystopic Comic that is there to both teach you something about surviving a dystopia and apocalypse as well as exposing some cliches. The skin is not done and I have no presence whatsoever but it does have a domain sister of Morrdystopia that has a forum on it. Wootflakes on the other hand is a geeky little spork that has mostly nerd humor. The skin is done but needs to be re-created and I already have some basis done I would just need to focus on getting them up regularly and advertising it. My other option is RPers Anonymous which is the site that I have the most focus on but the hardest time finding a software that is worth it and I can't afford to straight upgrade my server to a VPS to get the software that mostly works and I certainly don't have a few thousand to throw down to get it made and I'd have to go back to school to get the personal knowledge because all the crash courses that I've been through doesn't really teach me proper security and security is important for what I'm looking for. So this idea is my primary one but I don't have the money to throw at it. I guess with this, if I wanted to upgrade, I could do hosting packages for RPers for small fees and it would include cPanel but I don't know I guess it would depend I'd need enough interest in it to make up for the cost of the VPS. It' would be something simple like maybe 3 bucks a month or 5 a month with Morr Support. I guess I should see how the free hosting goes first. Last one is RP Status which is mostly supposed to be an addition to RPA so focusing on it would be silly other then posting to it updates. So it wouldn't be worth it without it's counterpart and see above for the problems with that. I guess there is one other, Faerie Reverie which is supposed to be a site (whenever I finish it) about kids especially my kids even though they drive me crazy. It could be something of an ideas to play with your kids (as I normally don't see pretty sites like it) but that would require me being a more involved parent and I don't have time for it most of the time. I'd have to figure out ways to make things fun for my kids without spoiling them. Another idea is to get Sex is Business off the ground which again would require a little money from me including getting my breasts done like I want to do and fixing my teeth. This one would be the site that I have photos of myself for sell in naughty ways. This is my preferred method but I don't know how to market a site like this. It would definitely be a ton of fun starting out with certain photos and moving from there but again what to do. My other domains like Knights of Cydonia, Card Rebellion, and Brain Damage are all RPGs so they aren't something to make money off of as they are simply hobby. The others Woothappens and Lady Pirate are re-directors to other domains and I just have them for prettiness and show. So needless to say these aren't options. Now what do I want to get from my endeavors? Enough money to financially support my ability to stay at home and work on them. This is my end all goal. With that it would give me the ability to do my other desires including writing a book without the drain of muse. So needless to say I'm already blech about this all. I want so much more and I can't attain it and I can't make a decision on what to focus on. I think my primary focus (until I decide) is to get Morrgasm up so I have my proper splash site and to-do list and determine my top priority. Feel free to post your opinion of this here as I'm always looking for feedback and suggestions. If you like an idea let me know and I'll try and put more weight on that.
  9. The next day with Dexter was an odd one for Elizabeth. She woke up and Dexter was gone which made her panic for a few moments. Looking around she sat up and slipped off the bed. She slowly approached the door, her clothes abandoned to the floor. As she got closer to the door she could smell the lightest hint of bacon in the air. She opened the door and peered her head out. She didn't see him but she could hear the tell tale signs of food cooking. She was hesitant about leaving the sanctity of the room but she abandoned it as her stomach knotted painfully in hunger. Slowly Elizabeth tip toed out into the living area peering around the corner to see Dexter there cooking food. She watched for a few moments before he looked up to her and smiled. "Hungry?" he asked her. She stared a moment longer before she came out from her corner. "Very," she said to him with a growing grin. "Did we really?" He nodded as he turned and placed a plate filled with food on the counter for her. He gave her a once over before he went back to eating. "I'm a closet nudist," she said to him as if she knew what he was thinking. "I was just appreciating," he said flipping the burner off. raising an eyebrow she got up onto a chair and picked up her fork before she started to eat looking at Dexter more then she was at her food. He moved like a sheep but under that facade he was a wolf and it amazed her. How did he fit in so well. Even she didn't feel that comfortable in her own skin. She suddenly felt highly uncomfortable without any clothes on. "How do you do that?" she said pointing at him with her fork and indicating to his whole being. "What exactly?" "Blend so well," she said tilting her head to the side and looking at him like a new angle would help her figure it out. "I had a good teacher." "You're the prodigy of a serial killer?" she said the shock apparent in her voice as she stared at him with a furrowed brow. The shake to his head brought out a firmer look, the predator within tensing at the question. It was almost too beautiful to watch as he fought the instincts. "No," he said to her. "Then what?" "My dad knew what I was. I have a code," he said as if that explained it all. "Don't we all," she breathed at him before taking a bite of the bacon, her wicked alligator grin on her face. She wanted to sink her teeth back into his flesh. Feel how good it was again. "What's next?" He looked up from his plate and shrugged. "I don't know." There was a few minutes of silence as they both at. She chewed thoughtfully on the eggs that she was made before she took in a breath to ask the next question, "What if I asked for your help?" "What sort of help?" he asked setting down his plate. "Help to get a target," she licked her lips. This was one of the hardest things she's ever had to do. She still wasn't quite strong enough. Last night she strained herself beyond what she imagined and the throbbing in her side was more painful today. She was surprised she even made it through the night. Dexter stared at her firmly for a long while. As he stared she could feel the blood rushing past her ears, her teeth ached with the sensation, she wanted to close her eyes and imagine the blood dripping over her skin in a rush. The warmth intoxicating. As she took a long blink he spoke, "Okay. Who did you have in mind?" "His name is Gregory James," she said to him. "He's a well to do executive that gets off on raping women," she said to him. "That's my code," she explained. "Men who abuse women." He looked down before he looked up at her. There was a darkness there, his eyes seemed more sunken in, his face seemed more hollow. Was she seeing the real thing now? The thought made her heart thump more loudly against her chest as she got excited just thinking about it. "When?" he asked gruffly. "Tonight?"
  10. So as always I Morr fuck things up. I swear I have a natural aversion to goods things in my life. It's like when good things come my way I avoid them like the plague but when bad things come I'm attracted to it like a magnet. The newest Morrfuckup is that I met this guy (and don't groan and be like oh one of those stories. STFU and listen) and it turns out that we have a lot in common. Mind you I've recently discovered that since I like a lot of things that I have a lot in common with a lot of guys. It's really easy to find things that you have in common if you have a lot to be in common about, but it's oddly different. I'm talking right down to the enjoying Hentai and porn here people. But anyways, I digress. So I fucked things up last night and really it is my fault and I know it is. I get overly sensitive especially when I don't fully understand the gravity of what I'm not supposed to be let in on and it hurts, I'll add a needless to say that I wasn't in the best of moods because it was in fact the Anniversary of my brother David's Death and it always hits me like a ton of bricks when I'm thinking it isn't coming for me. ANYWAYS! I got upset for no reason but it was a reason because I didn't understand and I know that's part of me but then when I tried to cheer him up he snapped at me and that just hurt my feelings and I've been hurt ever since. Now afterward, this is one thing that we work on different wavelengths on and it's difficult for me because part of it goes over my head and the other part of it just hits a brick wall and it totally throws me for a loop but he has no mannerisms. Or let me correct and say he has few mannerisms and it makes it hard to read. Now he tells me to just ask but I don't like to ask. I feel pesteringy when I ask because I feel like that's all I'm doing but he tells me to do it anyways and the other thing is that I have never been able to take things at face value. Ever. People don't talk like that. There is always underlying innuendo or something that I'm missing and even with what happened there was because I just didn't know the difference between upset and freaking out. It's a big difference and it makes it difficult to know what to do if I don't know what that difference is. Another difference is when I'm upset, no matter how I'm upset (sometimes even when I tell you to get the fuck away) I want to be cheered up or pushed back on. I like to know I'm wanted and I know he wants me but instead of getting push back I pretty much just fell over. Zayzie did cheer me up a bit but then I fell right back down the pit when I talked to him today. So I said mean things that I did and didn't mean. At least I think so. I've been hurt and I'm sad and all cry-ey which is really odd. I only say that because of all of the boys I've been with I didn't cry for too long afterwards or regret it really either. I mean I sometimes wish there were ways to fix it but looking back I'm better off without and I really regret the things I said. He's mad at me and I understand. I broke up with him because I was upset. I'm a Morron. I feel bad and I love him but I don't know if it's fixable. I hate when I can't fix it. Another thing is he doesn't like when I apologize but I apologize a lot. It's just something I do. Whether it's because I'm a submissive or I'm genuine or I feel that it's the way to get everyone happy again. I like when people are happy. I like to be happy so I apologize and he hates it and he snaps at me about that too. I don't know what to do to fix it as I can't wipe it away but C'est La Vie. As always. I fuck everything up. I am a horrible person. And we weren't even testing for that. #Morrfail
  11. Morrigan

    NaNo Begins

    So the month of NaNoWriMo begins and I am ill prepared and barely aware. >_< I have been sitting, considering what I would write about for three weeks, never making solid plans and now it's here and I have little to no idea what I will be writing about during the tumultuous time of NaNo. I have nothing more then a basic world idea and the fact that I want to write about it. Morrfail! So what does this mean? I need to go crazy about thinking at work on my breaks and my time off of the phones to figure out what direction I will go after work and really hammer some stuff out. On average I will have 2 hours a day to actually get any writing done. I don't think that I've ever powered out 1600 words of writing per day in 2 hours but I'm certainly going to try. At the moment my ideas are to either continue Supermassive (the novel I started last year) or start one of two ideas. One is a Girls Run the world novel about how their is an STD that kills women or one about how an innocent company creates an overbearing Social media platform that creates a dystopia. I think the former is the one I've decided on I just don't know the perspective I was writing from. I was pretty sure I was going to do it post war but maybe I'll do it pre-war but at the same time I have to figure out who is writing the story and why. Work will have it in for me. I better start the headache meds now. Well to the work chopping block and headache and to the NaNo not prepared grind! I can do this!
  12. Morrigan

    Cheshire Grin

    Elizabeth's feet throbbed. She looked down to see what it was that was making them throb to see that she was standing on a pile of rocks outside somewhere, no shoes on. She took a step forward, the rocks digging into the tender flesh of her feet. She took another step. It was agony. Why did it hurt so badly? Where was she exactly? She didn't remember leaving Dexter's apartment. Actually she knew she hadn't left Dexter's apartment, so how did she get there? Wherever there was. She looked up from her feet to see people. Not just any people but detectives, forensic scientists, cops. There was yellow tape, flashing lights. It couldn't really be? Her killing ground? She looked beyond the vehicles and people, her shoddy killing house appearing out of a mist. It looked more decrepit then it normally did. The right side seemed to droop almost like it were about to fall off the house altogether. The roof was more of a brownish red instead of a red like she remembered it being. Elizabeth took another step toward the house. It practically doubled in size. She looked up and around her, the house's walls bending outward as she breathed in. She released the breath and the walls returned to normal. She repeated the action watching as the house mimicked her. It should have been more strange to her but she was sure that houses did things like that. It made sense didn't it? She took ascended the steps, her throbbing feet protesting each step until she was in the house. It was like her feet didn't want her to enter but once they were inside they had lost so they complied with her will. Although, now she wanted to leave. The house denied her exit, the door not budging forcing Elizabeth to turn and face the horror within. The walls bled. The screams reverberated through the walls making the house sound like it was groaning. And there, lined up down an endless corridor were her victims. Each strapped and wriggling to get free of the metal slab she had executed them on. Each one laughing hysterically instead of screaming in pain. She took a step toward them. The first one trying to look up to her. “You shouldn't have killed us,” the man said in the many voices of her victims. She opened her mouth to refute the comment but all that came out were garbled letters that she couldn't read. “You shouldn't have killed us,” the voices repeated starting a taunting chant. Elizabeth grabbed at her short hair tugging at it to feel the pain of it but nothing happened. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. She leaned against the closest moaning wall sinking to her butt, her eyes closed as she tried to pull herself together. Tried to think of what she could do to the already dead. When she opened her eyes again she was downstairs in her kill room. Looking around the room she saw Dexter, a dark smile of excitement on his face as he reached out to her. She took his hand allowing him to pull her to her feet, across the room to a small corner. The corner was ordinary, sterile. Just as she left it but he brought out a cotton swab, swabbing the corner returning with a q-tip of blood. She looked from the bloodied q-tip back to the corner and the wall had began to bleed. Her eyes widened as she looked up to the gleeful smiling Dexter. She attempted to scream again but still there was nothing that came out. The blood began to fill the room, a small puddle growing quickly to a wading depth. Shortly it was up to Elizabeth's neck. Dexter still stood a few feet away, his ever prominent wicked smile on his face as he held the incriminating evidence up for her to see. The blood rose, covering her face. Elizabeth tried to swim but her feet seemed fused to the floor. The darkness began to settle around her. Where was she again? How did she get there?
  13. Elizabeth ran a hand through her reddened hair. She didn't like it but it was a precautionary measure, just like the colored contacts, the henna tattoo's and the mass amounts of makeup. She turned herself into a goth because he knew what she looked like. It required a look drastically different enough that he wouldn't recognize her. The traits of a good monster was the ability to adapt. Elizabeth adapted well. When Dexter saw her he looked again and by then she was gone. She hoped he thought he was seeing a ghost. Elizabeth had been stalking him for three weeks... maybe four? She was beginning to lose track. Without her steady routine one day ran into the next and then the next and it all seemed like one big exhausting blur of Dexter's grinning face. Despite her want to connect with him she knew killing him was for the best. Then why did her heart beat so hard when she brushed past him? He kept her up at night. She wanted his death for fear of her life but she liked him. If there was any other way she'd find it. The only problem was that she couldn't live in a nightmare forever. Dexter was her nightmare. She was in a living nightmare. That was why tonight was the night. There was no more waiting. No more worrying. No more dreaming. If she got rid of Dexter then Elizabeth got rid of the nagging prophesy. She'd be able to fall back into her normal routine again. She'd also be alone again with no hope for a companion. Life would be better without Dexter. Life would be worse without Dexter. At least she believed her life would be better without Dexter. Elizabeth sighed in frustration and tilted her head toward the floor with a final glance toward her adversary before she rounded the corner to prepare for the night. She required strength. She required willpower. She required sleep. ----------------------------- Six hours later Elizabeth was following Dexter through the crowds of one of the many street marketplaces in Miami. She stayed a safe enough distance behind him and looked at things, stopping constantly at booths that looked like she would be interested in. Blend and blend well. It was a tactic one learnt in High School with bullies and brats. She was one of the well blended brats with no money. Next booth. Next meaningless item that looked vibrantly gaudy, like she did. Soon Dexter reached the end of the market and he kept going which cause Elizabeth to pick up her pace. She just needed an alley. An alley and the wire in her hoodies pocket. She twisted her fist around the wire as she passed her first opportunity, Dexter too far ahead of her to take it. Alley. Building. Alley. Building. Elizabeth's heart started to race, the darkness inside of her taking complete form. The only thing in her head was her own dark, wide grin and blue eyes filled with a wild fire. Alley. Building. Alley... Elizabeth released a soft sigh as she jumped throwing the wire around Dexter's neck using her height as leverage to pull him backward and into the alley. She wrapped the wire as tightly as she could around his throat as he fought her, his elbows viciously jabbing into her breasts and ribs slamming her repeatedly into the brick wall of the building closest to them in the alley. Elizabeth couldn't help, during the struggle, that it was uncommon for them not to beg in some way. This didn't seem right. This wasn't right. Elizabeth loosened her grip just enough for Dexter to catch a lucky break slamming her into the wall again, a moan of pain escaping her lips as he twisted around holding her against the wall with his forearm on her neck slowly putting pressure. This was it, just a little more pressure and she'd pass out. A little more after that and her larynx would be crushed. Elizabeth gasped for breath as her hands pushed against Dexter her knee moving for the groin but denied by his prepared thigh. Slowly she felt consciousness slip away from her before the pressure was gone and she was on the ground gasping for breath, Dexter above her rubbing his throat. “What are you doing?” he growled at her. “What... I have... to, to..” Elizabeth coughed placing her palms on the ground to push herself up, “survive.” “And killing me is the way to survive?” Dexter asked her, helping her off of the ground pinning her against the wall with his imposing form. “I come back from the crime scene expecting to find you asleep on my bed and you were gone. I was going to tell you that you clean up everything very well.” He frowned, “Other then your body disposal but for now you were safe. So what do you mean survive? What are you hiding?” "I need to kill someone Dexter. I am unraveling inside,” while this was only part of the reason she hoped it was enough. Dexter's eyes bore into hers as they tried to read one another. Elizabeth still trying to catch her breath, every nerve burning for rest, to stop fighting and yet to stay awake and fight. She felt so conflicted. She had never been so out of control near someone before. She needed to regain something here. She needed to regain that sense of control she lost in the bedroom with the unfamiliar shoe. Elizabeth needed Dexter. Without words Dexter seemed to get the signal, or perhaps he wanted something from her just as badly as she wanted it from him but he pressed his lips messily into hers again his hands finding their way to her hips, her waist pulling her closer to him. While impulsiveness was the trait of a desperate serial killer she need something to keep hold of the thread that held all of her together. At the moment that something was him. For now, ignoring the nightmares were all she could do. A small amount of trust could lead to a whole lot of success. Or a whole lot of defeat. For now they both won.
  14. So I actually got to writing the next chapter in my Dexter Fanfiction and I've come to an impasse. I ddon't like the new direction that the previous chapter took me. Either I'm not liking how this chapter is coming out or I need something creative to point my character into a direction. Now, lets be honest, it's a fanfiction so I can have a bit of fun with it and I wanted a little bit of monster love in it so I could pivot my direction away from pure hate to pure lust and I don't think I'd have a problem but my question is, do you think that would deter my normal reader. I honestly don't know if it will or won't. Every one of the people that have read it like it so far and I have already added the element in there. So to romanticize or to not romanticize.... that is the question of a woman needing some romancing. I think the answer is obvious but if you want to put forth your input read the story. Current continuation chapter probably being sacked.... feel lucky I am sharing my unfinished work as I normally don't. Elizabeth ran a hand through her reddened hair. She didn't like it but it was a precautionary measure, just like the colored contacts, the henna tattoo's and the mass amounts of makeup. She turned herself into a goth because he knew what she looked like. It required a look drastically different enough that he wouldn't recognize her. The traits of a good monster was the ability to adapt.Elizabeth adapted well.When Dexter saw her he looked again and by then she was gone. She hoped he thought he was seeing a ghost. Elizabeth had been stalking him for three weeks... maybe four? She was beginning to lose track. Without her steady routine one day ran into the next and then the next and it all seemed like one big exhausting blur of Dexter's grinning face. It kept her up at night because when she slept she dreamt. The dreams growing more vivid, like he was attacking her through her dreams. They were no longer surreal dreams but more of lucid nightmares of being gutted one organ at a time. She was in a living nightmare. That was why tonight was the night. There was no more waiting. No more worrying. No more dreaming. If she got rid of Dexter then Elizabeth got rid of the nagging prophesy.She'd be able to fall back into her normal routine again. Life would be better without Dexter. At least her life would be better without Dexter. Elizabeth tilted her head toward the floor with a final glance toward her adversary before she rounded the corner to prepare for the night. She required strength. She required willpower. She required sleep.
  15. Elizabeth teetered as she looked up at Dexter. She was trying to read what he was going to say before he said it. She hadn't exactly told him something that you could process in seconds, like "I'm pregnant." No, this little tidbit of information was more along the lines of "Daddy, I'm gay." Although that didn't nearly have the consequences of what she had just told him. "Dexter?" It took a moment but his name seemed to bring him down to earth and he stared at her for a moment before he made his move. It was not one she had anticipated although she probably should have. Or maybe not. He crushed her against the door, lifting her, as he did in her dream, with his knee between her legs and held her there with his forearm. Breathing. Staring. Was he trying to gauge her sincerity? Her threat level? "What makes you think that I'm anything like you?" he growled at her. She couldn't sit here and let him crush her, she didn't have the strength to fight back but she didn't have the willpower to quell the raging beast within her any longer. Elizabeth did what the monster asked of her, succumbing to it's rage, it's itch. First was the knee to the groin, he didn't have time to shift to avoid the impact with one of his knees supporting her. He dropped her and moved back, his body bent in half from the pain. She quickly put her hands up and punched him, his head tilting back and breaking the mirror. She quickly wrapped her hand around the back of his neck bringing his face into her knee. He was conscious again bringing his hand between his face and her knee, softening the impact for him. Dexter put his shoulder into her gut and pushed her backwards breaking the glass of his shower box but having her against a wall. Elizabeth cried out, the pain coursing through her body as she felt her insides churn. She brought her elbows down on the back of his neck. Once. Twice. Three times before he took a step back and took a swing at her. She ducked almost fast enough, he caught her hair against the tile. She moved a foot and stepped on a piece of glass, then another, the pieces slicing into her feet. He quickly latched his fingers into her hair and pulled her around to hit her head into the wall. Elizabeth's ears began to ring as he did a second and third time. One or two more times and she'd be dead. The Monster cried mercy, she cried out stop but it was barely more then a whimper. She had to get his attention by either getting the upper hand or... well death was the other option. Elizabeth, barely able to think put her palms against the wall and pushed. She gave herself enough room to push off the wall with her feet toppling the surprised Dexter onto the ground beneath her. She scrambled to straddle him, her hands wrapping around his neck. She lifted his head and gave him the same punishment he had just given her. One. Two. Three. She pounded his head onto the tile surface of the bathroom floor, then she stopped, her fingers still wrapped idly around his neck. No pressure although she could attempt to strangle him, it probably wouldn't be effective and she'd probably just make him pass out. Dexter grunted and toppled her weight with a move of his hips and he was easily atop of her with his hands on her neck. Elizabeth looked up at him. He down to her. They were a broken mirror staring back at one another. Not exactly an identical copy but alike just the same. They both had blood on their hands. "I don't want to kill you Dexter," she croaked, barely audible. "That's not what it seemed like when you hit my head head against the ground," he growled at her. "Payback for the forehead," he smirked at the thought. Only they would have thought that amusing. "I don't want to kill you either." "Then why don't you get off of me and lets go talk." It took a few more minutes of staring before either of them let up enough to let the other one relax. When their fingers slowly uncurled from each others necks they helped one another up. Elizabeth took in a sharp breath as she came to her feet. "I can't seem to stop spilling my own blood it seems," she said sarcastically, leaning her weight on the unsteady Dexter. "Sorry about that." "It's alright," she said to him as she limped into the bedroom with him. She plopped onto the bed as he sat down next to him. "Let me see your feet." Elizabeth twisted, pulling her feet onto his lap so that he could inspect them. He pulled at her toes but he didn't touch the wounds. It was nice to see someone else that knew how to take care of a cut like she did. She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry about that. I couldn't help myself." She heard his breath but couldn't tell if it was amused or disbelieving. "Seriously, how could you tell that I was like you?" he asked again placing her feet onto his lap. "I don't know," she said giving a shrug. "It's like recognizing another predator. Your hair stands on end, you can see their teeth and you the glint in their eyes and then its gone. You didn't see it in me?" "You're obviously better at hiding it." Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked at him. "Really? I was going to tell you the same thing. Maybe I just saw it first. I had just sated my need a few nights before. The darkness was sated. Now I can't even keep myself from attacking the nicest man I know," she said with a sigh. "You were just protecting yourself. I would have done the same thing." "I guess... I think it's more then that though." "Like what?" "I haven't had a victim in about a month and my blood itches for it." "Well then why don't you?" "I can't," she watched as his face furrowed in confusion. "I'm worried right now that our little excursion in there didn't already pull a few stitches out let alone dragging a dead body around and those are minimum requirements," she finished, looking to the ground beside the bed. Dexter grunted an acknowledgment. Silence fell upon the pair. She had a feeling that he knew, without words, what she wanted. It was more then a want, she was sure he understood that but it was a boundary that neither of them had crossed before. Trusting another person with a secret as sensitive as this. "Dexter?" A phone rang and he shoved his hand in his pocket. He looked at it. "It's work," he said pointing at it. "Morgan. Alright, I'll be right there." "Talk about this later then?" "We'll have to. Dead body found out in the Southern Glades about." "Ten miles north of Ingraham Highway," she said with him her fists clenching into the palms of her hands. "Yeah, how'd you know?" Elizabeth released a breath of forced amusement. "That's my killing ground." Dexter stared at her for a moment before gently removing her feet from his lap. "Stay here, I'll be back in a few hours and we can talk. I'll let you know what I find." "Hopefully not more bodies," she said standing up on her hurt feet, a shard of glass still within digging deeply into her cut. "Dexter," she looked up to him, "thank you," she told him, standing on her toes, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling him down into another of those messy kisses which he returned in kind. "I'll be back," he informed her. "Dexter?" He turned to her a second time. "Don't forget to clean up before you go," he looked down at his bloodied hands and breathed in amusement. "Thanks," he disappeared out of the door and he was gone. This was not good for her. What had she forgotten? How did someone find a body out there? What evidence did she leave in her graveyard? She was going to jail wasn't she?
  16. Dexter had come the next day, and every day while Elizabeth recovered in that hospital bed. It was a pleasant surprise to see his smiling face everyday despite the growing ache. She could feel the desire within her, spreading through her blood like a virus. She should have already been stalking her next victim but she'd been in the hospital. It was unbearable even as she was able to stand on her own without supervision. The only thing that kept the inner darkness at bay was the possibility that Dexter may have been like her. Gratefully today she was discharged and life continued on as normal. While in the hospital she made her official statement on the attack in her apartment with everything she “remembered”. Shortly afterward Dexter told her that the case of Piper Adams' murder had been closed. Now she was free to commune with Dexter in public without sullying his credibility by being a suspect in one of his cases. Lucky for her, Dexter had asked her out to dinner that evening. He informed her that he wanted to make up for all of the hospital food she had to eat. Since it was such a nice offer she couldn't refuse, not that she would have. Dexter was a beautiful creature of darkness. He was so inexplicably average it was like looking at a mirror. Nothing about him would stand out to anyone unless you knew what you were looking for and even then... it was a difficult thing to see. If, in fact, that was what she saw in him. Elizabeth ran another frustrated hand through her hair trying her damnedest to keep the edges of tape from snagging in the unruly mop of too long hair. It didn't really work the way she had hoped and she ended up ripping off the bandages on her arms despite doctors orders. Once the bandages were removed she couldn't help but admire the wounds, turning her arm in the mirror to get a full view of them. Scars. That's what they said she'd have, scars. She had never had outward scars before, all of her damage was on the inside from years of abuse. Now she'd have scars some on the outside. Disgusting. She was already beginning to hate herself for it. Elizabeth had to restrain herself before she put her fist into the mirror and caused more damage. She didn't need any more of her blood shed, especially not when she was being picked up by Dexter shortly. Grinding her teeth to get control of her temper she dropped her arm and stormed out of the bathroom. She wasn't sure she could look at her disgusting body anymore. She breathed heavily as she sat herself in the chair in her living room. Her dark temptations were starting to get to her. She felt agitated, she needed release but she wasn't prepared for it. She wasn't physically strong enough to make sure that she didn't get caught but she was beginning to deteriorate from the inside. Every muscle in her body ached, pleaded, moaned for the release that only a kill could give her. She needed it. She couldn't wait any longer. 3 weeks in the hospital under surveillance to make sure she was healing properly before they let her out was enough to make any sane woman go stark raving mad. She wasn't an average sane woman but the lack of victim, or even prospect, made her a risk to everyone. Even Dexter. Elizabeth couldn't see him tonight. She needed to kill something. If she saw him then she might lose herself and try to kill him. She needed to get out of there but she knew if she left then she was going to kill someone recklessly but if she stayed then she put the one person that held her interest at risk. She had to go. Elizabeth stood up and grabbed her keys. As she reached for her coat... Knock. Knock. Knock. The sound made her freeze. She was caught. No not caught, but she couldn't escape the date now. Elizabeth took a deep breath, grabbed her purse, placed her keys inside before she opened the door to see Dexter's smiling face with a single Lily, how appropriate. She gratefully accepted the flower smelling it momentarily, “Thank you.” “You look, nice,” he said as his eyes looked her over before they came back up to her face. “Thank you again. Shall we?” “Yes, we shall,” he said offering her and arm. Elizabeth stepped out of her apartment, carefully locked her door before she took his arm. “Thank you for coming with me. I know you've had a rough past month,” he said looking down at her with a smile. “Trust me, I'm glad to be out of the house,” even though I'd rather be finding something or someone to kill. Elizabeth's body felt like it was freezing yet on fire. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to last before she'd snap, and the date just started. Gratefully Dexter opened the door to allow her to seat herself in his car. She slid in slowly, carefully. He was soon in the car beside her, lights on and car started. The date was on and all she could think about was what was in that car that she could wrap around his neck and kill him with. Elizabeth took a deep breath as she rubbed her hands together nervously. This was wrong, she shouldn't need a kill so soon after her last one, 4 weeks was not a long time between kills, if you did them more often then people got suspicious. The ache wasn't about the kill, no it was about redeeming her pride after being violated. Without the actual culprit that stole her dignity she had to torture some other man to get a similar satisfaction. She needed blood on her hands, in her control. Her choice on how fast or slow it falls. She needed to show him who was boss. She needed... “Are you okay?” Elizabeth's eyes shot to Dexter, a little more venomous then she had intended. “You just look really nervous. I promise I won't bite.” That wasn't the problem. Elizabeth huffed her frustration. “I know. I just feel...” she wanted to tell him honestly, go to jail, die, kill or go home, “empty right now. The man took something from me. Something I can't exactly explain without sounding strange but I want it back and despite how much I want, no, need it. I'm not ready for it,” she clenched her fists, kneading her thigh with her knuckles. “What did he take from you?” “He took my,” pride, sex appeal, faith in myself, “happiness from me. You've been the only thing that's kept me from hating myself. I just feel,” disgusting, angry, frustrated, violated... Elizabeth hadn't noticed that the car was stopped but when Dexter gently moved her chin to look up at him, it was apparent now. “A sadness that eats you from the inside out?” “Yes,” she breathed. “It will go away.” “I don't know ho...” she couldn't help herself, he was so close. He smelt of blood again and now that she had her lips pressed against his, he tasted of it as well. She was sure that both the smell and taste were just in her head but that didn't stop her from pressing harder. It wasn't like Elizabeth to get so physical. She preferred her loneliness normally but the kiss was a personification of her frustration, her ache. She needed something to dull the need, to dull her senses although the kiss wasn't working. “Take me home Dexter,” she breathed breaking her lips from his, her fingers gently caressing his skin. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Elizabeth's eyes opened to see an empty pillow. She could hardly believe what she had just done, although it wasn't much of anything. Dexter had gotten her to his apartment and she fell asleep on his bed. Why had she fallen asleep? She didn't remember being tired before she had gotten there and yet, she had fallen asleep. Elizabeth rolled to her back, looking over the room. It was clean, modern looking. Nothing out of the ordinary that would lead someone to believe that he was like her. Which meant that if he was like her, he was careful. Elizabeth sat up, continuing her search of the room with her eyes for what would let her know if he was like her. She idly began to scratch her arm as she stood up. She began looking over the mundane items on his dresser, his nightstand. She opened his closet still scratching at her arm. Shirts, pants, suits. Nothing. “Sleep well?” a voice came from behind her. Elizabeth quickly spun on her heel to see Dexter a lot closer then she had anticipated. “I think so,” she replied with a breath of amusement. “You're bleeding,” he said pointing to her arm moving closer to her to look. He offered her his hand to her to inspect further. She gave it to him, her eyes looking down to the damage she had caused. She hadn't even noticed that she had broken the skin. “I am,” she said plainly. “I don't know what happened. I didn't even feel the itch,” she lied. She did feel the itch but it wasn't on her skin, it was under it, coursing through her veins in a place that only one thing could help scratch. “Let me get something to clean that up. Um... what were you doing in my closet?” he asked as he dragged her with him to the bathroom. “Looking,” to see if you hid what I think you are in there. “Looking for what exactly?” “I was just looking,” she told him as he moved deftly to grab a cloth and rubbing alcohol. He quickly ran her arm under cool water before wiping away the clear liquid and dabbing it with alcohol. The stinging from the alcohol brought her back down to earth. She felt almost centered with the pain, then it was gone and so was the control. She felt the numbing ache in her stomach, the need for a kill, for revenge. The itch. “There's not much in there except an old chest and my clothes,” he said as he worked. “What's in the chest?” “My father's gun.” “Why do you have it?” “Because we used to go hunting together and those were some of my best memories of my father.” Elizabeth nodded as he returned her arm to her with a bandage in place. Another scar, she thought sourly as her eyes went to the mirror where she could see them both. “Have you ever felt that there was something you knew about someone but you were too afraid to ask if you were right and the thought of it made you anxious?” “Well yeah, but I normally just ask them and if you're wrong they tell you, then you don't have to stress about anymore.” “But what if it was a secret, something no one was supposed to know.” “I guess it would depend on the what you knew.” “Dexter,” Elizabeth said, turning her eyes from the mirror up to the man himself. “I think you're like me.” “And what is that exactly?” Elizabeth looked in his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking, trying to gauge what he was going to do when he heard this. The ache roaring within her, her need to practically bathe in blood, to hear someone scream out her name and ask her to stop. She didn't know how to quiet it and she didn't have the ability to do it on her own, not yet, not without hurting herself further. She had to know, perhaps he'd help her. If he wasn't like her then perhaps he'd turn her in. If he wasn't then maybe he'd ignore it as delirium, or have her institutionalized. It would make the world a safer place, that's for sure. If he wasn't then she'd have to kill him. If he was then she may have to kill him. If he was she may have to let him live. If he was... “A Serial Killer.” Dexter had come the next day, and every day while Elizabeth recovered in that hospital bed. It was a pleasant surprise to see his smiling face everyday despite the growing ache. She could feel the desire within her, spreading through her blood like a virus. She should have already been stalking her next victim but she'd been in the hospital. It was unbearable even as she was able to stand on her own without supervision. The only thing that kept the inner darkness at bay was the possibility that Dexter may have been like her. Gratefully today she was discharged and life continued on as normal. While in the hospital she made her official statement on the attack in her apartment with everything she “remembered”. Shortly afterward Dexter told her that the case of Piper Adams' murder had been closed. Now she was free to commune with Dexter in public without sullying his credibility by being a suspect in one of his cases. Lucky for her, Dexter had asked her out to dinner that evening. He informed her that he wanted to make up for all of the hospital food she had to eat. Since it was such a nice offer she couldn't refuse, not that she would have. Dexter was a beautiful creature of darkness. He was so inexplicably average it was like looking at a mirror. Nothing about him would stand out to anyone unless you knew what you were looking for and even then... it was a difficult thing to see. If, in fact, that was what she saw in him. Elizabeth ran another frustrated hand through her hair trying her damnedest to keep the edges of tape from snagging in the unruly mop of too long hair. It didn't really work the way she had hoped and she ended up ripping off the bandages on her arms despite doctors orders. Once the bandages were removed she couldn't help but admire the wounds, turning her arm in the mirror to get a full view of them. Scars. That's what they said she'd have, scars. She had never had outward scars before, all of her damage was on the inside from years of abuse. Now she'd have scars some on the outside. Disgusting. She was already beginning to hate herself for it. Elizabeth had to restrain herself before she put her fist into the mirror and caused more damage. She didn't need any more of her blood shed, especially not when she was being picked up by Dexter shortly. Grinding her teeth to get control of her temper she dropped her arm and stormed out of the bathroom. She wasn't sure she could look at her disgusting body anymore. She breathed heavily as she sat herself in the chair in her living room. Her dark temptations were starting to get to her. She felt agitated, she needed release but she wasn't prepared for it. She wasn't physically strong enough to make sure that she didn't get caught but she was beginning to deteriorate from the inside. Every muscle in her body ached, pleaded, moaned for the release that only a kill could give her. She needed it. She couldn't wait any longer. 3 weeks in the hospital under surveillance to make sure she was healing properly before they let her out was enough to make any sane woman go stark raving mad. She wasn't an average sane woman but the lack of victim, or even prospect, made her a risk to everyone. Even Dexter. Elizabeth couldn't see him tonight. She needed to kill something. If she saw him then she might lose herself and try to kill him. She needed to get out of there but she knew if she left then she was going to kill someone recklessly but if she stayed then she put the one person that held her interest at risk. She had to go. Elizabeth stood up and grabbed her keys. As she reached for her coat... Knock. Knock. Knock. The sound made her freeze. She was caught. No not caught, but she couldn't escape the date now. Elizabeth took a deep breath, grabbed her purse, placed her keys inside before she opened the door to see Dexter's smiling face with a single Lily, how appropriate. She gratefully accepted the flower smelling it momentarily, “Thank you.” “You look, nice,” he said as his eyes looked her over before they came back up to her face. “Thank you again. Shall we?” “Yes, we shall,” he said offering her and arm. Elizabeth stepped out of her apartment, carefully locked her door before she took his arm. “Thank you for coming with me. I know you've had a rough past month,” he said looking down at her with a smile. “Trust me, I'm glad to be out of the house,” even though I'd rather be finding something or someone to kill. Elizabeth's body felt like it was freezing yet on fire. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to last before she'd snap, and the date just started. Gratefully Dexter opened the door to allow her to seat herself in his car. She slid in slowly, carefully. He was soon in the car beside her, lights on and car started. The date was on and all she could think about was what was in that car that she could wrap around his neck and kill him with. Elizabeth took a deep breath as she rubbed her hands together nervously. This was wrong, she shouldn't need a kill so soon after her last one, 4 weeks was not a long time between kills, if you did them more often then people got suspicious. The ache wasn't about the kill, no it was about redeeming her pride after being violated. Without the actual culprit that stole her dignity she had to torture some other man to get a similar satisfaction. She needed blood on her hands, in her control. Her choice on how fast or slow it falls. She needed to show him who was boss. She needed... “Are you okay?” Elizabeth's eyes shot to Dexter, a little more venomous then she had intended. “You just look really nervous. I promise I won't bite.” That wasn't the problem. Elizabeth huffed her frustration. “I know. I just feel...” she wanted to tell him honestly, go to jail, die, kill or go home, “empty right now. The man took something from me. Something I can't exactly explain without sounding strange but I want it back and despite how much I want, no, need it. I'm not ready for it,” she clenched her fists, kneading her thigh with her knuckles. “What did he take from you?” “He took my,” pride, sex appeal, faith in myself, “happiness from me. You've been the only thing that's kept me from hating myself. I just feel,” disgusting, angry, frustrated, violated... Elizabeth hadn't noticed that the car was stopped but when Dexter gently moved her chin to look up at him, it was apparent now. “A sadness that eats you from the inside out?” “Yes,” she breathed. “It will go away.” “I don't know ho...” she couldn't help herself, he was so close. He smelt of blood again and now that she had her lips pressed against his, he tasted of it as well. She was sure that both the smell and taste were just in her head but that didn't stop her from pressing harder. It wasn't like Elizabeth to get so physical. She preferred her loneliness normally but the kiss was a personification of her frustration, her ache. She needed something to dull the need, to dull her senses although the kiss wasn't working. “Take me home Dexter,” she breathed breaking her lips from his, her fingers gently caressing his skin. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Elizabeth's eyes opened to see an empty pillow. She could hardly believe what she had just done, although it wasn't much of anything. Dexter had gotten her to his apartment and she fell asleep on his bed. Why had she fallen asleep? She didn't remember being tired before she had gotten there and yet, she had fallen asleep. Elizabeth rolled to her back, looking over the room. It was clean, modern looking. Nothing out of the ordinary that would lead someone to believe that he was like her. Which meant that if he was like her, he was careful. Elizabeth sat up, continuing her search of the room with her eyes for what would let her know if he was like her. She idly began to scratch her arm as she stood up. She began looking over the mundane items on his dresser, his nightstand. She opened his closet still scratching at her arm. Shirts, pants, suits. Nothing. “Sleep well?” a voice came from behind her. Elizabeth quickly spun on her heel to see Dexter a lot closer then she had anticipated. “I think so,” she replied with a breath of amusement. “You're bleeding,” he said pointing to her arm moving closer to her to look. He offered her his hand to her to inspect further. She gave it to him, her eyes looking down to the damage she had caused. She hadn't even noticed that she had broken the skin. “I am,” she said plainly. “I don't know what happened. I didn't even feel the itch,” she lied. She did feel the itch but it wasn't on her skin, it was under it, coursing through her veins in a place that only one thing could help scratch. “Let me get something to clean that up. Um... what were you doing in my closet?” he asked as he dragged her with him to the bathroom. “Looking,” to see if you hid what I think you are in there. “Looking for what exactly?” “I was just looking,” she told him as he moved deftly to grab a cloth and rubbing alcohol. He quickly ran her arm under cool water before wiping away the clear liquid and dabbing it with alcohol. The stinging from the alcohol brought her back down to earth. She felt almost centered with the pain, then it was gone and so was the control. She felt the numbing ache in her stomach, the need for a kill, for revenge. The itch. “There's not much in there except an old chest and my clothes,” he said as he worked. “What's in the chest?” “My father's gun.” “Why do you have it?” “Because we used to go hunting together and those were some of my best memories of my father.” Elizabeth nodded as he returned her arm to her with a bandage in place. Another scar, she thought sourly as her eyes went to the mirror where she could see them both. “Have you ever felt that there was something you knew about someone but you were too afraid to ask if you were right and the thought of it made you anxious?” “Well yeah, but I normally just ask them and if you're wrong they tell you, then you don't have to stress about anymore.” “But what if it was a secret, something no one was supposed to know.” “I guess it would depend on the what you knew.” “Dexter,” Elizabeth said, turning her eyes from the mirror up to the man himself. “I think you're like me.” “And what is that exactly?” Elizabeth looked in his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking, trying to gauge what he was going to do when he heard this. The ache roaring within her, her need to practically bathe in blood, to hear someone scream out her name and ask her to stop. She didn't know how to quiet it and she didn't have the ability to do it on her own, not yet, not without hurting herself further. She had to know, perhaps he'd help her. If he wasn't like her then perhaps he'd turn her in. If he wasn't then maybe he'd ignore it as delirium, or have her institutionalized. It would make the world a safer place, that's for sure. If he wasn't then she'd have to kill him. If he was then she may have to kill him. If he was she may have to let him live. If he was... “A Serial Killer.”
  17. The rhythm of the lights dimming would have been soothing had it not been for the obnoxious buzz of the florescent or the jabber of the woman talking constantly. “We need an O negative transfusion and an O.R. Room prepped. This woman has lost a lot of blood and has multiple...” the rhythmic beat of the lights faded quickly into a dark grey then to black as Elizabeth blacked out again. ------------------------------------ Elizabeth felt strange. There was an almost nauseous feeling to it but she didn't feel sick. No, it was more of a throbbing in her abdomen, her arms, her head, her neck. She tried to move, tried to touch her stomach where it throbbed the most but her limbs felt like lead. No matter how hard she willed herself to move she couldn't move in the soundless black. She supposed she could ask the normal questions to herself but that would be kind of pointless. Where was she? Why was she there? Philosophical non-sense that meant nothing when she considered that she couldn't remember anything before she got there. The question then was, what could she remember? Blood. It was everywhere. The unfamiliar shoe. The strange lights. Then the blackness. “She's coming out of it,” an unfamiliar male voice interjected into the blackness. “I thought she was under! We're not done yet put her back under,” said a second voice. “That could put her in a coma or kill her!” “Her coming out before I finish surgery could kill her. Put he...r...” The quiet enveloped her again. Surgery? She didn't remember going in for some procedure but perhaps she lost her memory. Maybe.... The darkness began to feel crushing. The throbbing began to subside being replaced with a light feeling. Her mind began to feel fuzzy and she couldn't find her thoughts through the haze. Morgan. Piper. Batista. Detective. Death. Torture. Knives. Killing. Investigation. Blood. Dexter. Blood. Dexter. Dexter. Dexter. Dexter. “DEXTER!” Elizabeth shouted her eyes snapped open to see the dulled florescent bulb above her. Her throat ached, the dullest scratch like she hadn't drank anything for days. She tried to move but her arms and chest were strapped down. She struggled with the restraints not understanding why they were even on her. Was she convicted of something? Was she ina mental institution finally? She struggled harder against the cushioned straps, her arms beginning to burn. “She's awake,” a gruff Latin voice came from the hall. “What did she say?” a female Latino voice came through. “Did she say Dexter?” “That's what it sounded like. I know she was flirting with him at the precinct. Perhaps she would do better to talk to him? I don't want to upset her, she's been through a lot,” it was Detective Batista. “I'll go in and see her while you go get him.” Elizabeth eased her struggle against the restraint when the burly figure of Detective Batista came closer to her. She tried to talk but it came out more of a groggy moan. “Dete-tive Ta-Tista,” she whispered huskily to him. “Water,” she croaked. “Puh,” she groaned and struggled to pull her hand up to her throat but remained restrained. The Detective seemed to get the gist as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water bringing it over for her to drink. She closed her eyes as the medium warm water chaffed down her throat. Mmm, Miami's best tap water. “You've been through a lot,” she heard the detective say as he pulled the nourishing glass of disgusting water away from her lips. “I can only im-magine,” she continued groggily. “Not sure the last time I woke up in hand cuffs. College maybe?” she grinned lazily up to him giving her hand a tug to emphasize the point. “You still have your sense of humor. That's good,” he said giving her another drink of the water. “That's really good actually.” He tilted his head as he pulled the cup away from her lips, still forgetting or neglecting to remove the restraints from her arms. “Do you remember what happened to you before you came here?” She looked around and took a deep breath. “I'm still trying to figure out where here is,” she told him. “I guess it would help if I had a little more... um,” she closed her eyes to attempt to think of the word. “I don't know. Umm, movement?” she tugged at her wrists to signify the restraints to hopefully enlighten the rather confused looking detective. It took longer then she expected for the concept to come over him. “Oh, uh. Let me get a nurse to let you out of those. I heard you are quite the restless sleeper,” he told her as he stood up to get some help. That probably explained why she was tied down. Pulling out IV's while you slept was not good for healing, if that's what she was supposed to be doing. It was only a few minutes before a nurse came in followed by Detective Batista and a new face. It was a woman but it wasn't Detective Morgan. The nurse immediately began to tug and pull at her chest causing a few sharp intakes of breath and groans. Every movement felt like a knife being jabbed into her side. “What in the hell happened to me,” she asked after a particularly loud groan as the strap over her shoulders was removed and she could wiggle them to get more comfortable. “We were hoping you could tell us that Miss Thory,” the Latina woman asked. “Did you not tell her Detective Batista?” Elizabeth asked throwing an accusing gaze in his direction. “Lieutenant, she prefers to be called Liz.” “Liz then,” the lieutenant said with a frustrated breath. “What happened to you?” Elizabeth's right wrist was released from it's restraint which gave her the ability to rub them gently. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I don't remember much. I remember leaving the precinct to go home and then I woke up here,” she opened her eyes. She twisted her hips to adjust her position. With the movement a sudden jolt of pain shot from her abdomen outward to all of her limbs. The sudden shock made her grip the plastic bars that kept her in her bed. “Ow,” she said as she groaned settling down into her original position. “Maybe someone could enlighten me on the damage before I do something that stupid again.” Detective Batista chuckled with a move to muffle it by rubbing his hand over his mouth. “Sure,” the lieutenant said moving out into the hall signaling that she wanted the detective to follow her leaving the quiet nurse alone with the forgetful serial killer. This was great. She knew most of what happened but she wasn't sure exactly what she should divulge. Yes ma'am, he was bad with a knife, I could tell because I'm a Serial Killer. No ma'am, I don't actually kill people for a living, it's more of a hobby really. Yes ma'am, he was in my apartment waiting for me. No ma'am, I wasn't afraid. Why should I be afraid of an ignorant asshole that broke into my home? Yes ma'am, I fought back and obviously I didn't win. No ma'am, I don't remember what happened after that, I just remember the blood and the unfamiliar shoe. Elizabeth was shaken out of her imaginary answer scenario when the door opened and a doctor, followed by an unsuspected smiling face. “Hey you.” “Dexter?” Elizabeth questioned more informally then she probably should have. She had only met him twice and they were already on a first name basis? She didn't think they actually were, “I mean Mr Morgan. Why are you here?” “You can call me Dexter and I heard you asked for me by name.” Elizabeth's cheeks burned in embarrassment. It was unlike her to show that sort of emotion but she couldn't believe that she had asked for him by name. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean...” she rubbed a hand through her matted hair as he gave her a smile. “You shouldn't have come down here.” “It's okay, the lieutenant asked me to come down and collect some blood samples from you anyways. Like from your hair,” he said flipping some of her matted hair as he gently sank into the bed beside her. “Alright Miss Thory, I understand that you wanted to know what all we did to fix you up,” great, an informal, interrupting doctor. This explanation would be short and probably stupid. “Well you had a few cuts on your neck that we stitched up, you're really lucky that you didn't nick an artery there because it was really close. Then we patched up a few cuts on your arms and a gouge on your leg, it looked like someone stabbed the knife into your thigh. Then we stitched up your stomach where you had a few stab wounds. We couldn't tell how many but you were really lucky that they were shallow and didn't do any internal damage or you would be dead.” Elizabeth was pretty sure that luck didn't have anything to do with it. Although, how he got so many cuts in before she took him down was beyond her. “You'll have to stay in the hospital for at least a few days while we watch you but you'll be out of here in no time. You're lucky you got that call into 911 or you'd be dead.” “Thank you doctor,” she said with a forced genuine smile. “I'll let you talk with your boyfriend here, then a nurse will come in to check on you in while,” he said slapping his clipboard against his hand with a loud 'pop'. Simultaneously both Dexter and Elizabeth gave off an “Umm,” to signify the inaccuracy of his statement. “He's not my...” “She's not my...” “Oop, sorry. I just figured that you were,” the doctor back peddled. “Let me get out of here so you guys can talk anyways,” he said quickly retreating from the room that now stood in a tense silence. Now what? “Umm,” he started. “Lieutenant LaGuerta wanted me to ask you if you remember what happened,” he said with a frown. “I don't remember much. Just waking up in blood and the unfamiliar shoe,” the word blood set her teeth on edge. She may remember it but she didn't get to enjoy it. Not like she should have been able to. She felt violated in the largest but most private part of her life. Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I'm sorry I'm not much help,” she told him. She was pretty sure that this wasn't the place to remember more. At least not the more that she did remember. The dream with the smiling serial killer. “Did he die?” Dexter looked confused about the question, like he was caught off guard. “Did who die?” “The man. The one,” that I didn't get to torture and that almost killed me. The one that attacked me. The bastard that I cut to ribbons as he sliced me up. The one “that tried to,” rape and “kill me,” she said the anger seeping into her voice. Dexter's brow furrowed, “Yes he was dead when emergency services got to you. Are you alright? You look upset.” “I don't know,” Elizabeth said as she began to rub her hand absentmindedly. She could feel the ache grow. “I feel,” she huffed in frustration as she saw the face of the lieutenant in the window to her room. She couldn't ask him anything there. She doubted she'd ever be able to tell him her secret no matter how much she wanted to, “tired.” “Not a problem. I'll just get those samples from your hair and under your finger nails then get out of here so you can rest.” “Is this what you always do? Get to see the sick and dying and get samples?” she asked with a smirk. “Actually I'm a Blood Spatter analyst.” “Blood Spatter? And you're here collecting dry and crusted samples from my hair? Why would you do something as silly as that?” “Well I was the only one available.” “Oh,” she said, the disappointment apparent in her voice. A serial killer could hope. “Not that I didn't want to see you I was just saying that it may have been someone else but I was available.” “I understand,” she said with a small smile as he leaned in with a q-tip that he just sprayed with some chemical. She took in a breath and held it while his face was close to hers. He smelt of blood and sweat, “You killed someone recently,” she whispered. “What?” he asked looking down at her with surprise. “Hmmm,” she smiled. “You smell like blood. You must have killed recently.” She looked up to him with a smirk. “It's a joke you blood spatter analyst.” He must have been holding his breath too because he let it out in one quick rush as he sat back and clicked the lid on his q-tip swab. “You had me going there for a second.” “I'm pretty good at that. I didn't mean to scare you.” “It's alright. I think I'm done. If they need more they'll get it from you I think.” Elizabeth set her hand on his leg. “Will you come to see me again?” “Sure,” he said with a shrug and a smile. “Tomorrow?” “Tomorrow works. Around noon?” “Only if you promise to bring me something not hospital food.” “Alright, it's a date then.” “Thanks.” He didn't move, staring at her. Maybe he was thinking about collecting from her fingernails like he said he was going to. Perhaps, instead, he was trying to measure her up or maybe he was imagining her as a serial killer like she had when she first met him. Dexter the knife man. Elizabeth the knife woman. Together they rid the world of people to sate their own desire to hurt things. They are.... Serial Killers! A new kind of Super Hero.
  18. Morrigan

    Liz Fic Part 5

    The bump of the club was getting on Elizabeth's nerves. Normally the sound didn't bother her but tonight was a particularly nerve wracking night because she wasn't there to find someone to kill to sate her desire. In fact she was pretty well sated at the moment. She was there to stalk a different sort of prey. Another predator. After the realization of what Dexter Morgan was Elizabeth had went home and did some research on him. He was spotless. The best she could find on him was a traffic ticket, from when he was 23. It wasn't anything and it didn't mean much especially since she wasn't sure what she was expecting to find. Maybe “Dexter Morgan, Serial Killer” with a list of his victims? While it would have been convenient, it was doubtful. Whatever it was, she didn't find it looking through her normal circuits. She did, however, find out where he lived which was a good start. That was how she ended up here. Elizabeth followed him here from his home. Normally she would have went home after following him here but she came inside instead. It was a perverse need to watch another predator stalk their prey. Her need to interact with another person that needed the sticky feeling of blood on their hands to stay sane. It was her darkness reaching out for his. Elizabeth kept an eye on him the entire night only leaving time to blink and eventually that cost her. She had lost him in the crowd in the split second it took for her eyes to close and open. How was that even possible? She swung her head around looking frantically for the man she had lost but in the sea of bumping bodies he seemed to be gone. “You know I thought we agreed that after the Adams case we'd see each other,” an amused grumble said to her from behind. She turned her eyes up to see the face of her prey for that evening. “I'm sorry. I have a thing for a man that looks like he can handle a knife, I mean me, I mean himself,” she said with a shake of her head and a chuckle. “Sit down and I'll buy you a drink,” she said offering him the seat next to her. “Nah. I actually think I'm going to call it a night,” he said to her. Damn. She was hoping to talk with him. “Didn't find what you were looking for?” she asked him. “No,” he said throwing a thumb over his shoulder as an indication that he was getting ready to leave. “I'm going to head out. Long day at work and I've got to get up early.” “Mind walking me to my car?” Elizabeth asked. “Sure,” he said with a shrug. What else was she supposed to do? She was only there to watch him and he was leaving. Her best plan was just to leave too. Elizabeth left the half empty drink on the counter as she let Dexter lead her out of the club. When they got outside she couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips. She was glad that the insistent bumping of the club had been muted to a dull thump behind her as she walked. He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. “Glad to be out of there?” “A little. The pounding music was giving me a headache.” “If you don't like it then why do you go?” To stalk a man that reminds me... of me. “To meet people. I met you tonight didn't I?” “I guess so,” he said giving her a thoughtful frown. “Did you come out here to meet someone in particular?” Elizabeth was getting tired of the fake smile game but kept it up in case she was wrong about him. “Nope, I don't have a special someone to go meet at random clubs in the middle of my work week. You?” she said with a bump of her shoulder into him. “I was looking for someone but they weren't there.” Elizabeth nodded feeling that she had interrupted his ritual. That was rude of her wasn't it? Well she would have to make it up to him after she got to know him better. “This is me,” she said coming up to her 2004 dark blue, hatchback Ford Focus. She gave him a nod and a smile in which he returned the nod but not the smile. Elizabeth thought that was a bit odd since he seemed so good at fitting in with the situation. “Who are you?” he asked her more darkly then she had anticipated his presence imposing on hers in an attempt to press her closer to the car. “My name is Liz I'm the woman that the cops think murdered my next door neighbors.” “I know that, but who are you?” his eyes narrowed at her. “I saw you outside of my apartment.” A low grunt escaped her throat as shoved her shoulders back into her car, his knee held her up, his forearm quickly pressing her painfully against the cool metal frame behind her. Then the blade appeared a beautifully crafted, stainless steel, chef's knife held rather painfully beneath her chin against her jugular, “Who are you and why are you following me?” The question was absurdly hilarious! She couldn't help the reaction as her head fell back the knife still held painfully firm against her neck as she laughed. She could feel the small tingle as the knife dug deep enough to draw blood. He drew first blood then which was fine, she had been the one stalking him, poorly. “Well I already told you that my name is Liz but that's not what you want to know is it?” she questioned him as she pulled her head back up the blade of the knife scraping dangerously across her skin. “Why am I stalking you? Well I thought it was obvious Dexter. We have something in common,” she said with her toothy alligator grin.” The pressure of the knife loosened for a moment before being pressed harder then before followed by a bizarre twist of him mashing his lips against hers. She yelped into his lips before she relaxed into the kiss closing her eyes, her arms reaching around him to pull his body closer to hers. She could hardly believe what was happening it was all so amazingly sexual. All of her favorite things mashed together in one place. Blood. Pain. Pleasure. The possibility of death. The hand that had been holding her against the car moved to help push her higher on it their lips still hungrily devouring one another. She could die at that moment and be happy to die. She was not as alone as she once thought. The crushing loneliness that made her work dangerously close to the line of unsafe. It was minutes, maybe hours, of being pressed against that car before he removed his lips from hers panting in her ear. “Your mine,” he rasped before the blade that was pressed against her neck shot a cool pain into her as he sliced across her jugular. For a moment Elizabeth was surprised by the action, her eyes wide, accusing before she smiled and her body slumped down to the ground as he removed himself from her, his green shirt soaked in her blood. Her blood. Wasn't that a beautiful canvas to stare at? Her own. She gurgled a thank you as she stared up at his darkened silhouette, the only thing she could see clearly were his eyes and the hypnotizing blade that he held stained with her blood. My blood is so beautiful. Elizabeth could feel herself slipping away as the darkness began to surround her vision as everything began to fade, the life draining out of her.
  19. Morrigan

    Funny Spam

    So I get a kick out of reading some spam that gets trashed on my blog when I post things and they tickle me, especially when you compare them to what they are posted on. "Can I just say what a relief to find someone who actually knows what theyre talking about on the internet. You definitely know how to bring an issue to light and make it important. More people need to read this and understand this side of the story. I cant believe youre not more popular because you definitely have the gift." This was posted on Part 2 and 3 of my Dexter Fic. DID YOU KNOW that I know what I'm talking about when I'm writing fiction? I mean I'm the authority and I bring the fiction issue to light! More people need to read my fiction. Now I don't disagree with the fact that more people need to read my stuff, because I like to know that people read my blog, but it just entertains me that this was posted. I mean, really? I really know what I'm talking about? I mean, I know I don't really know what I'm talking about but this just entertains me to all hell. "Thanks for making such great points. I will need to apply some of them! It for sure aint that easy as the commercials make it seem. You really gotta be highly persistenet and you should never stop trying. The results will show in due time." So this was posted on Flaky and not the Wooty kind. I didn't think I made any points except for self-degradating ones. Thanks for letting me know that I'm GOOD at making myself look really bad. "Excellent blog you have there, thanks for sharing, iv bookmaked you!" Thanks! I really appreciate the link to the Macbook page too! Morons. Yeah. I appreciate that you came to my site, took the time to bot a reply and tell me that you're never coming back. I really appreciate that! "It takes more thought to come up with a good blog comment then a bad one. For instance, it takes much less brain effort to say “you suck” than to say “I profoundly disagree with the simplistic drivel that has been touted on this networked opinion delivery system.” As evidenced by the number of moronic comments that are left on various blogs, it appears that the majority of blog readers have the cranial capacity of cattle who spend a lot of time defecating in the same pool they drink from." I love this one. It is so well put together then so many others. The only problem with this one is that it doesn't directly reflect anything that it's posted for. So while cute this one is just another of the millions of spam comments that only entertain me. I really appreciate the fact that it points out that some comments on blogs are moronic. Such a reflective looking on blogging in a whole. Aren't I a hypocrite? "Great information! I’ve been looking for something like this for a while now. Thanks!" Now if I ran an informative blog, maybe something bashing BP or something like that, I would probably really appreciate this spam comment. Unfortunately I have a blog where I complain about things, inform people about my mediocre life. Now if you were coming here to get information about me and get information about things I rant about then you're shiny. I would love this comment too! Unfortunately this was posted on my Dexter fic (part 3) and has a link to minority loans or something. Not just is it hilarious (obviously my fic information is just so awesome as spam bots keeps telling me so) but I'm obviously not a minority.... I mean I'm the whitest woman possible and I'm pretty sure that divorced mothers aren't in the minority these days. Love the thought but the bot has got to go! So I had to post this as I normally read all of the good spam in my box. I might do this more often if I continue to see rather hilarious ones. (brownie points if I find something REALLY good bot bastards) So Yeah. <3 Thanks for reading and I will try to update you all soon. ^_^
  20. So I've still been stressed. I think I find it hard to write about my life when I'm stressed. I think that stems from the fact that if I write about my stressful life, while I'm stressed about it, it just makes me MORE stressed. It's just not very fun to say the least. So any of my loyal followers that like to read my random rants, I apologize. With the stupid stepdad stuff and then the move I've just not been all ranty and ravey. Well that's not true, I HAVE been all ranty and ravey but I just haven't been motivated to talk about it. Tonight isn't bad but I don't really have much to rave about. That is unless you count my ankle! So! I've been moving the past week and up and down stairs, lift, back pain, exhaustion right? Well this is awesome! I'm sitting here walking down the stairs with a big drawer from the armoire and I seemed to forget how the stairs worked, or the step vanished like in HP because I went from having 3 steps left until the landing to sitting on the landing floor with a hurting ankle and tears streaming down my face THIS WAS THE SECOND FUCKING TIME THAT THIS HOUSE ATTACKED ME THIS WEEK! The first time I was sitting down at the computer after a long days work, relaxing on the floor when BAM! the bed frame to my bed came crashing down on my head! (Awesome I just rhymed a little) It cut my head open and I was crying then too. I swear I haven't cried that much since my husband told me that he wanted a divorce or the last time that I thought about my brother Davey. Sad days in the Morrigan house. Right now I'm hoping that my ankle will improve drastically by tomorrow. I really hate hobbling and I hate not being to help like I should. I'm a strong woman, or not a wimpy one, and so I should be lifting things not frowning and hobbling about when I can't seem to get something or it hurts because I can't walk right. The kids like the new house though. Fae was given her own Harry Potter-esque room under the stairs. It was mostly because she was complaining about it and Grandma is awesome so she gave her, her own room. Grandma-win on this one. She went to bed down there tonight and we'll see how it works out in the morning. Really I just need to get a job so I can get my own place but the economy in AZ SUCKS!!! Just thought I'd put that out there. Also, the neighbors here are very awesome! Great kid neighborhood and the parents seem very friendly. I didn't even feel like an outsider, like my kids will be set apart, no, they seem to be fitting right in which is especially awesome. So, on top of Madness fail I'm also wootfailing at my webcomic. I haven't updated for a few weeks there either. about the same amount that I've been missing posting here. I will be changing that shortly though! I intend to be doing a week of webcomics starting Monday so that you all know that I'm not dead and that I love you for reading my bizarre stuff. I hope that will make up for the weeks miss and keep you reading for the weeks to come. Website updates? I'm a domain name addict. I just bought two new domains that will probably sit dormant until I figure out what to do with them. I got Woothappens.com and RPersanonymous.com. I know what I'm going to do with RPers Anonymous, it's going to be an RP resource forum for both administrators and roleplayers. It will probably start off on something self-hosted but if it grows enough I think I will ask for donations to upgrade it to IPB. (IPB is by far the best forum software in the world) As for Woot Happens I think that I might make it into some sort of site that you can submit your Woot moments and link it to Wootflakes. We'll see. ^_^ I think that's it for now. Nighty Night everyone! Unpleasant dreams.... or whatever that Elvira lady used to say.
  21. Okay, so I didn't post a blog last night. My apologies. I'm sort of addicted to watching people play this trilogy of games, God of War. I watched my ex play through one and two and my brother got three a few days ago and last night I was watching him play until four in the morning.... well sort of. I fell asleep about 3 or four times in the process of watching him play but I was doing that last night instead of producing a fantastic blog for everyone to read. Why? Because I could and because I wanted to watch the epicness that is God of War. On top of that I was really a little (lot) disappointed with Alice in Wonderland. Yeah! I'm a big Alice in Wonderland fan and I went to finally see Alice in Wonderland yesterday, as excited to see it as I've ever been, and I left feeling empty inside. It was like the movie was the perfect soup, it had all of the right ingredients but something was still off about it. I mean I think that making Alice in Wonderland dark and all that is a fantastic idea. I loved the cast, the director but not the movie. I think this movie was by far my biggest let down of a movie that I had ever seen. I don't see many movies in theaters and I feel like I sort of wasted my time with watching this one instead of waiting until it came out on DVD. I probably should have just waited for Prince of Persia. Sadly? I think the credits were my favorite part. <_< I think that's it for my yesterday updates. Today! I went to the Arboretum with my mum and kids and my mum's friend Hilary and her kids. It was the first time I have been and it was enjoyable. It was like a nice long nature walk. Fun. I'm pretty sore from the adventure mostly because I don't exercise a lot but I am thinking about taking up Yoga. I find that the Wii Fit *when I could find the silly thing* made me really happy with the Yoga stuff. I think I'll be buying myself a new Wii and a new Wii fit since I have to send mine to my ex. I just need something calming that I think I need to start and end the day out with. Nothing too intense because it exhausts me and I prefer to relax and be more aware. I'm putting together my newest webcomic. Another one that I will probably be the only one that understands the joke but if you want to understand it then please feel free to ask me, I'm always glad to fill you in on my bizarre bit of humor. Okay, I'd probably talk and prattle on more but my brother is playing God of War and I have a comic to post tomorrow! Hope you're having a good day! ^_^
  22. So i look through my spam, for this site for two reasons. the first to make sure that a valid comment isn't sitting in the recesses of comment hell. The second reason is because the damn things are so funny. "You have such a great forum. My name is blah blah blah" or even better, I think the best one I saw in a while, "I tend to agree with the posts on this blog, but in this case I ought to say that I do not agree with this." That one still makes me laugh after I've read it. That one is extra funny because it is an opinionated comment on a non-objective subject. The post was Not so interesting day which, for those that don't want to go back and read it, was an entry about how the story I am trying to take off the hands of my brother is going to be difficult for me. I mean really? How does that warrant a comment of: "I tend to agree with the posts on this blog, but in this case I ought to say that I do not agree with this." It's like it's saying. "I agree with your opinions but this not opinion is not agreeable." Or even better. "You're WRONG! This is going to be easy as cake for you, you stupid whore!" Spam and it's entertainment value. In other news! I have joined a few more forums and am trying to stay active on them but I also got a few members on my site and got quite a few posts done today. I hit over 100 posts on my own forum. I believe my threats of elephant genocide is working. Remember... Join Wootflakes or the Elephant gets it!! On the news of wootflakes! I have posted my fourth ever comic today! Yay for staying steady. Go check it out. Tell me what you think! On top of that I added a Wootflakes fan page! Become a fan of Wootflakes and it's kidney failing goodness! Do it or the baby elephants die. Don't kill any more baby elephants. What else got done today? Nothing. I watched Xena. Tried to to die with headachishness and children running around like mad. I did do my Yoga again today and actually should go to bed so I have time to go to do Yoga before I take my daughter to her socialization. I don't know if I should even bother but I guess a few minutes is better then no minutes with her friends right? I', still frustrated over the vaccination thing. I kind of wish I can feign refusal and that I didn't want her to get it and then she can go. Wishful thinking. We'll see. Well goodnight! Hope you're having a good day! ^_^
  23. It was all there. All familiar. All necessary. It was like a checklist in her mind as she went about the tasks of her job. As each thing was completed she was able to tick off the box and continue to the next. If something wasn't completed it messed with her balance, it made her irritable and it just became messy. She wasn't messy. She ticked off the box in her mind of preparation. The tools of her trade were neatly laid out on the table beside her, a shimmering display of silver on a mat black tray. Each glimmering item had a story, each one had a use but they weren't always used. Her job didn't always require the use of each of them even if she wished that it did. Another box in her mind ticked off as the man began to breath rapidly and wriggle in his confinements. She quietly hushed him like a mother would a screaming child, cooing softly and running her fingers over his half bald head. “Hush, it will all be over soon. Once I have what I need then you will be free to go. It's an easy trade. The faster you give it to me, the faster your able to leave,” she smiled, her white teeth shining down at him. She always thought that it gave a false sense of security. Made them think good things, making her job easier. What she didn't know was that her sweaty face and exposed part of her body, the smeared dark lines around her eyes, the scraggly hair around her face made her bared teeth made her appear more like an alligator. “What am I doing here? Let me go you stupid bitch! Let me out of here! Do you know who I am?” the man yelled at her angrily. She hummed quietly as she frowned. She checked off the initial anger in her mind. Even if she didn't like it she knew that it was necessary. Without it, or despair, then the entire thing didn't work. She just happened to prefer the despair over the anger. Gently she tapped the top of his head as she stood up straight and moved outside of the man's peripheral vision. He began to thrash more violently. “I already told you how I would let you go, are you ready to give me what I want?” she asked him calmly, the clinking metal of her tools causing the man to pause in his thrashing to attempt to discern what she was doing. She looked over her shoulder at him, his head pushing against the restraints in attempt to peer over at her, “Wha-what do you want?” he asked gulping hard. Probably his pride, he had asked her if she knew who he was. She did, it was one of her check marks. It was required before continuing through her course of actions. She smiled to herself as she lifted a needle and an object that looked similar to a melon baller. “What do I want?” she echoed after a few moments delay. She tinked the objects together before she turned to face the man again. “I think you'll be able to accommodate me without much effort,” she explained as she walked back over to the side of the table where he was strapped, the ominous click of her heels echoing in the otherwise empty room. She leaned over the man, the sweet, alligator-like, smile still on her face. “What I want from you is your voice and your life,” she explained to him as his trashing started again, more violent then before. “You're the one.... the one from the news! The Bay Harbor Butcher...” She tilted her head back and laughed. It wasn't a light laugh. No. It was more of the type of laugh that you hear out of a truly amused person, the deep guttural chuckle of someone truly entertained. Her laugh came to an abrupt halt as she slammed her hands on the table beside him, her earlier sweet smile turned into a true snarl of rage. “Don't insult me with your media trash. I'm ten times the serial killer then the Butcher was. I leave a legacy of death in my wake. You should feel honored to be a victim of mine,” she said the rage falling off of her face almost as quickly as it came. She pushed herself gently away from the table where the man lay, her head tilting from side to side as she mulled over a thought in her mind. “If you must know who I am then I will tell you. I'm Elizabeth. I'm not in the news, and intend to stay that way,” she explained as she lifted the tools in her hand to eye level. “Elizabeth what?” the man asked, his voice quavering with the fear and understanding he lacked moments ago. “Elizabeth will do,” she informed him noncommittally as she discreetly leaned over the table and lifted the slender needle up. “Now it's time for that voice that you promised me,” she said to him as the needle's point sank into the soft flesh of the eye. The screaming echoed in the small room as Elizabeth marked another box off in her mind. She set the other tool down, leaving the needle in the man's eye. She retrieved another item from the tray, the man's whimpering intensified as it heard the rattling around. Elizabeth grabbed a scalpel and with a deft movement it was sank deeply into the man's flesh. She pushed hard, wiggling the instrument to get a louder sound from the man.......
  24. Today I watched the Addams family. Not just any Addams Family but the old black and white show. I think I was watching the second half of the first season, if I remember correctly. It's filled with such awesome slapstick comedy. I remember watching this when I was younger, obviously not live because, well lets face it, I wasn't alive in 1965. I just remember watching re-runs of the show when I was younger. The Addams Family has always been a favorite show of my family's. We often compare our eccentric ways to that of the Addams family. What else for today? Well I discussed more with my brother about possibly writing his Feargrant/Tnargraef story down. I think, if I can get this in a manageable state to start writing, this will be an extreme challenge for me. Want a few reasons why? The main characters aren't generically plain - by that I mean they aren't human, not moderately normal or pretty in any way. The main characters are male - I'm a woman and I write best from a woman's aspect. One character is a little crazy - Okay, admittedly? I can write nuts very well but there are a few traits, like rhyming, that will be a little more difficult to deal with. The story is a little intricate but with big holes - I'm trying to figure out the story my brother has in place but trying to understand my brother some days is like trying to understand a circle. You know it goes round and round but you never know why. Understanding the structure while not understanding the entire why - There are reasons for a lot of stuff but some of it doesn't make a lick of sense. Trying to figure out if I'll have a bit of artistic leisure as I'll be the one writing it - I sort of prefer the "Here's the general story, here's the character, have fun" sort of way. We'll see how it goes. I'm still slowly working on that world of mine but both stories inspire me and I just had a fantastic idea for a Dexter Fic that I might write. I really need to finish my other one and finish reading a few things before I start a million new projects. Speaking of projects I already have Thursday's comic figured out. Hopefully I'll get to designing the panels come tomorrow but I think that I might do a few things before I sit at the computer. Namely Yoga. As for the Yoga thing? I'm a big Yoga failure. I had meant to start it up, do it every morning but Sunday threw me off. I gave into the mum begging thing and I went to church again (something I find to be very good too do handy projects like Komi-himo. I'm going to get back on it tomorrow and not forget on Sunday. I especially can't forget because my daughter liked doing it with me on Saturday and she tried to do it today without me (she snatched my book and started to pretend that she was learning, really cute actually). I need to do it for me as well. I want to lose weight and then there is my recent stress. OMG! My recent stress. I must be really stressed because I've had the worse stress break outs that I think I've ever had. It's driving me mad. I hope that the Yoga and stuff will help with it. I really miss my Wii Fit. A lot! Like a lot a lot. I want it back so I can feel better all over. If my brother gets a Wii I will get a new Wii Fit game and do it. What else? What else? Oh! I was able to properly stay up and listen/ watch Tarol again tonight. I really enjoy watching him draw Goblins. He is especially entertaining when people are stupid a few of the things he said tonight: Quote 1: "I make idiots look like bigger idiots." Quote 2: "I feel like I'm dissecting a frog.... made from jerk." It just tickled me and made my brother's lol. Last thing? My brother discovered Flying Vaginas in FF13. Hope you're having a good day. ^_^
  25. Not much done today. I watched a lot of Dr Who. I cried to a lot of Dr Who. I didn't realize that I hadn't watched season for of Dr Who but I have now and cried another river and will probably cry more. I think Dr Who is one of the most depressing awesome Sci-Fi shows ever. None of it negates the depressing though. I sort of want to write a Dr Who Fanfic about my travelling with the Doctor. I want to be the Doctors love. I love him and he makes me so depressed but I love him anyways. I'm watching the movie after season 4 and then I'm going to go web surfing for the Season 5 which will probably just depress me further because David Tennant isn't in it. T_T I am all for Doctor Rose stuff. Of course Doctor Donna isn't too bad either! ^_^ What else for today? Well nothing really. Kids, Dr Who.... WELL! There was this one thing with this guy on the IPB forums but he's starting to get on my nerves. I'm about ready to utilize the Ignore system for the second time ever and it will be the second time in less then a month. Why do I have to be so nice to people? I mean I'm not here. If anything I'm downright rude most of the time because I'm just mean and it shows but I try not to be. I mean I'm a moody bitch but I'm not really all that cruel but sometimes I want to be. Blunt. That's the word, blunt or brash. I'm just rarely able to turn that filter on but I am nice enough, when I'm not annoyed. Whatever I guess. C'est La Vie as I always say. I will see what tomorrow brings me for a day. Depending on how it goes depends on if I utilize the ignore function. Hope you're having a smashing day!!
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