Yeah, my writing has been failing recently, I wrote a really good first chapter, well, in the past three weeks, I've written two really good first chapters, none of them had a storyline to follow through on, one of them was a self given challenge "Make a story/musical with using every song in your "A-Z Musicals" Album.
And then one, where I would have to kill someone off, and I wasn't sure who, or was happy with any of the options, well killing off the girls father would work, but you have no emotional attachment to him and...
Yeah, sorry, rambling, so what am I going to write? Answer: I have no idea, I'm going to let my mind head this way and write something, and I have no idea what is going to come out of this.
Joly scratched his head, it was feeling rather itchy, maybe it had gotten infected by a mosquito, but it was January, there weren't any mosquitoes out at this time of year. Maybe it was a head lice of some sort, and maybe that they were going to burrow into his brain and... Wait! That wasn't possible, he wasn't going to die from this, well if it was lice, then it would be uncomfortable, and then he would infect all the Amis, and then they wouldn't get anything done until after they had all gotten rid of the lice. And Enjolras wouldn't be happy then, and Combeferre would look at him that way, making him want to dig himself a hole and never want to come out. He looked up to Combeferre, really he did, but he could be rather sharp if he felt he needed to, although now Joly felt guilty about thinking that, really, don't get him wrong, Combeferre was nice, and kind, and could actually tell when Joly was sick, something that none of the other Amis could do, but still, that look, and he would say something, usually not longer than seven words, and it would make your entire argument disappear.
Joly scratched his head again, and that brought himself back to the lice. How would he be able to tell? Maybe if he combed his hair, then some of the bugs would be caught on the comb, but maybe the lice, or nits, or whichever form of lice had decided to make his head a new home, was too small.
Maybe if he angled his mirrors correctly, then maybe he would be able to see the top of his head.
Laigle was used to his friend doing erm... eccentric things when he would walk in, but he never complained, seeing as his dear Jolllly was letting Laigle live with him. But this was the strangest thing yet. He was sitting on a chair, and he held a mirror in one hand, and behind him there was another mirror that had been attached to a broom, which was leaning against the wall. Joly himself was in a crunched position, halfway between entirely bent over and leaning forward, his held tilted, as if to keep water from going into his ear.
"My dear Joly, what are you doing?" He asked.
The younger student looked up, "Oh, you see, I believe I have lice, and I want to make sure that I'm correct before I stop going near anyone for the next while."
"Oh Joly, there won't be any lice in your head, I promise you." The older one offered.
The medical student eyes narrowed, "Oh, Bossuet, how would you know? You don't even have hair! You wouldn't know too much about lice, and besides, could you imagine what it would be like if every Ami had to shave their head? Enjolras without hair isn't right, and Courfeyrac wouldn't ever forgive me if he had to cut his hair short. Plus can you even think the look that -"
Laigle cut Joly's rambling short by taking a comb to his head, and running it through his hair, hard.
"Ow!" Joly cried out, his head feeling like it was about to start bleeding, "What was that for?"
Bossuet flicked the spotless comb towards Joly as he walked out of the room, "See, no lice, petit don't worry about such things."
"Hey, Bossuet?" Joly called at the retreating man, "Thanks. And why on earth do you of all people carry a comb with you?"
Well that was interesting, but considering I'm listening to vocaloid, and I don't understand a word of Japanese, this could have come out even more odd...