InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "TEAM ROCKET BLASTING OFF"

mememaker (mememaker) wrote in memebells,
@ 2012-01-19 00:20:00

Entry tags:

[rated] nc17, [rated] pg, [rated] pg-13, [rated] pg13, [rated] r, [type] choices, [type] confession, [type] dark, [type] dreams, [type] hate, [type] horror, [type] love, [type] memories, [type] secrets, [type] serious, [type] shipping, [type] trust, [warning] possible triggers

IT'S A TERRIBLE LIFE

“The important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle.”

Sometimes, we don't all get what we want, no matter how much we struggle.

- Post as your character.
- Others respond after going to RNG and rolling 1-10.
- ???
- Profit!

1. scorned;
→ something you did was found out. You murdered someone, stole, lied, maybe you're involved in a relationship you should have never been in. Whatever the case is, you're disowned and outcast for it. Replier can be the one who hates you or wrapped up in the mess with you.
2. addiction;
→ you tried to resist for oh-so-long, but you just can't anymore. Welcome to the world of addiction. Maybe it's drugs, alcohol, sex, or something else entirely, but it's dragging you down. Replier can be attempting to confront you or on the downward spiral too.
3. cursed;
→ you've been cursed forever with bad luck. You can never make it big, you're always injuring yourself accidentally, or losing important things. Basically, whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. Replier can be attempting to help or wrapped up in he bad luck as well.
4. abandoned;
→ you were running from something bad. Cops, an enemy, maybe just an angry attack dog, but you were left behind by the person you thought had your back. Replier can be leaving you or trapped right along with you.
5. injured;
→ by your own hand, accident, or maybe an epic fight, you have been injured badly and need time to heal. Replier can be taking care of you or injured as well.
6. sick;
→ Poisoned, down with the flu, whatever, you're not feeling at the top of your game. Replier can be a caregiver or in the same boat.
7. apathy;
→ you just don't care anymore. You don't want anything, just go through the motions every day if you can even convince yourself to do that. There's nothing magical about life, no light anywhere. Replier can be attempting to help or feeling much the same as you.
8. running;
→ You robbed a bank, shot someone, or whatever you can think of that would get you on the road and running forever. You can never go back. Replier can be pursuing you or running along with you.
9. slave;
→ captured and sold unwillingly into it or you just lost a bet, you are now someone else's absolute and utter slave. You can never go back to how you were, not with how utterly broken you are. Replier can be a purchaser or in a similar situation.
10. random;
→ you want to do your own scene or combine something? Do it here!

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raggedy
2012-01-20 02:57 am UTC (link)

He'd allowed himself to settle as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the other while he played. He rarely had the chance to listen when the young man was forced to and even then the songs and music he'd always been told to play was nothing like the ones he knew when it was just them. Sure the notes were almost melancholic, but still they were still beautiful. The pain the song brought forth was bittersweet, a feeling he wanted to hold onto instead of the general numbness that often came with their daily work and chores around the estate. He snapped back to attention when he realized the other spoke, nodding a bit belatedly with a grateful smile on his lips.

"I don't believe I have.", he sighed softly, his attention on the other instead of scattered all over as it so often was.

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topsyturvygypsy
2012-01-20 03:40 am UTC (link)

Another smile. Clopin smiled at his friend before looking down at his lute, continuing to pluck the strings. He loathed playing for their master--he was always treated like some kind of trained animal--but he liked playing for himself and the other slave. This was music that came from the heart.

"Non-gypsies rarely do." His fingers started to dance across the instrument. As he flicked through his mental store of stories, he got more absorbed in the soft music. Finally, he picked one that wasn't meant to be a morality tale. The morality tales were always rather horrifying.

"A long time ago in a forgotten kingdom, there were three peasant brothers. Two were wise, but the youngest was a fool. They were poor and their mother, ailing, couldn't do the things she used to. The brothers had to support their family, but their village was small and had no work for them to do, so slowly but surely, they were succumbing to poverty and hunger.

"The king of the land had a daughter ripe for marriage, but he was a superstitious man and he didn't trust any traditional methods of picking a suitor. The king decided on a plan to find his daughter's future husband, and then he declared that there would be a feast. Every man of the land and beyond was welcome, rich or poor, able or crippled, royal or simple."

He began slowly, his eyes getting distant, as if he were actually there. Listening to him, one could believe that he was speaking from personal experience. He spoke as a natural story-teller, someone who's spent his whole life telling stories to help others escape the evils of the present.

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raggedy
2012-01-20 10:35 am UTC (link)

He nodded at the other's statement, figuring that it was more than likely the truth. Sure his friend had stories to share, but so often those had been saved for his family. Most outsiders probably either wouldn't find any merit in them or not listen at all. Still, it made him feel a little better that he was willing to share, even if he didn't know whether the Time Lord would care for it at all.

He gave the other his full attention as he spoke, unable to really help getting a little invested in the story and the way his voice rose and fell with the notes he played. The music only seemed to add depth to the story, nothing more than an echo beside the other's words. He settled into the story a bit slowly, letting the other lay out the scenes without question. No doubt he'd have a few questions if he chose to think about it, but he couldn't bring himself to at the moment. He just wanted to forget where they were, even if it was only for a story.

He smiled softly as he watched his friend, shifting a little to sit upright.

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topsyturvygypsy
2012-01-20 02:37 pm UTC (link)

It'd be easy to poke holes in the story. After all, it was a folk tale. Nonetheless, Clopin talked like it was real, his fingers continuing to dance on the strings.

"The wise brothers went to the feast. The fool wished to go as well, but they said, 'Our mother is ailing and you're just a fool. You'll just embarrass us at the feast, so you are more use here.' So reluctantly, the fool remained home, tending to their mother. At the feast, the king gave a grand announcement: that his daughter was in a room on the second story of the castle tower. Whosoever could jump up from the ground and kiss her would be her husband. Surely, a man who was able to complete this impossible task would only be able to do so with the blessing of God, and was meant for the princess.

"At first, only noblemen tried to kiss the princess, but all of them failed. The wise brothers returned to their home and spread the news. The next dayTh king announced that peasants may attempt to kiss the princess. The wise brothers decided to go and try, but when the fool tried to come, they said, 'Our mother is ailing and you're just a fool. You'll just embarrass us at the castle, so you are more use here.' Reluctantly, the fool stayed.

"After the wise brothers had left, his mother asked him to go out and fetch water. He went out, dragging his feet and looking as if a rain cloud were following him. When he came to the stream in which he usually got water, a bush by the shore rustled. 'Fool,' it said, 'you come here every day with a smile on your face, but today, I see no smile.' A faerie woman rose from the bush, for it was she who was speaking. 'To see that smile again, I will give you a wish.'

"'All I wish is for a silver suit of armor, a grand steed, and a cudgel.' The faerie gave him what he asked for, along with a small sum of money. The fool dressed himself in armor and rode his horse down the way to the castle. Along the path, he overtook his wise brothers. To keep them from recognizing him, he brought down his cudgel on their heads, knocking them out, and gave each five ducats."

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