Author note: Before you read this Abby- I only used you as a base for the
character- It's NOT YOU! So don't be mad! I know you're more into the
bohemian and Moulin Rouge stuff than me in reality, but in here, the
character isn't. It does not reflect what I think about you.------
Ok, we didn't exactly die, but our bodies did. Musta been that dead cat. I blame it all on Abby. Where'd she get that dead cat anyway? Do I want to know? It's better left alone, I suppose.
We left Inigo standing shocked with me dead in his arms, and Steve trying to shake Abby awake and glancing in horror at my dead form; and were pulled through this dimension-hole thing into Moulin Rouge. What stuck out in my mind was how I went limp and cold so quickly and easily, apparently embracing the change; while Abby crumpled on the floor more slowly, her face still reflecting her emotions as if she were asleep. Curious. If I had had a chin at that moment, I'd sure as hell be stroking it questioningly.
"Wow wowowowowowwoow!" I screeched, "We're here!"
"Yeah... but.." Abby stammered, looking around the alley we were standing in.
In had a calming, romantic feel to it. I just wanted to break out into song. The ideals of Freedom, Beauty, Truth, and above all things Love had always been a guiding force in my life and I had considered myself Bohemian; but now they stood out like never before as the most important thing and goal in life. Life itself pales in comparison to holding them up. I fit right in at once, never giving a moments thought to going back. Staying was so much more important, staying in Montmarte, the bohemian capital of the world in the time when it was at its peak. Sweet Paradise. I would live a penniless existence and write about Love, oh yes, I WILL!
Abby' voice cut into the savored thoughts, "ALAINA! HEY! What do we do now? We're real enough here," she rationalized, looking at her simple brown wool gown, "but in the real world, we're dead! How do we freaking get back!" she panicked, startling several passerbys.
"Abby," I smiled, "We are home! Look around! It's beautiful!" I spun, luxuriating in the feel of the simple white shirt and trousers I wore. I reached in my pocket and grinned at finding some cash there.
"Let's go buy a typewriter," I enthused, "There's so much to do, to accomplish! We've stumbled unto heaven!"
Abby looked a little less happy about our circumstances. She was never as much into the Bohemian ideals, but I never thought it would cross her mind that she'd rather be at home than with the bohos! But it did. She hated it and wanted to go home. I could tell, as much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew.
Abby, I thought, If you go home... I don't think I'm coming. But I didn't say it. Not because I was worried about her being mad at me or lashing out, those things didn't matter so much anymore. I just didn't want to hurt her anymore than she would be hurt. After all, she might not be able to go home either. We were dead, you know. So I kept my mouth shut. If she noticed my unusual silence, she didn't comment.
We shook off the gloomy mood quickly enough, walking down the alley looking around curiously until we reached a familiar looking apartment building with L'Amour written in big letters on top of it. Trying to place it, we couldn't figure it out until we saw the big elephant in direct line of vision from one of the windows.
"CHRISTIAN AND THE BOHOS APARTMENT!!!" We screamed, to several people's astonishment, and then ran inside.
Ok, we didn't exactly die, but our bodies did. Musta been that dead cat. I blame it all on Abby. Where'd she get that dead cat anyway? Do I want to know? It's better left alone, I suppose.
We left Inigo standing shocked with me dead in his arms, and Steve trying to shake Abby awake and glancing in horror at my dead form; and were pulled through this dimension-hole thing into Moulin Rouge. What stuck out in my mind was how I went limp and cold so quickly and easily, apparently embracing the change; while Abby crumpled on the floor more slowly, her face still reflecting her emotions as if she were asleep. Curious. If I had had a chin at that moment, I'd sure as hell be stroking it questioningly.
"Wow wowowowowowwoow!" I screeched, "We're here!"
"Yeah... but.." Abby stammered, looking around the alley we were standing in.
In had a calming, romantic feel to it. I just wanted to break out into song. The ideals of Freedom, Beauty, Truth, and above all things Love had always been a guiding force in my life and I had considered myself Bohemian; but now they stood out like never before as the most important thing and goal in life. Life itself pales in comparison to holding them up. I fit right in at once, never giving a moments thought to going back. Staying was so much more important, staying in Montmarte, the bohemian capital of the world in the time when it was at its peak. Sweet Paradise. I would live a penniless existence and write about Love, oh yes, I WILL!
Abby' voice cut into the savored thoughts, "ALAINA! HEY! What do we do now? We're real enough here," she rationalized, looking at her simple brown wool gown, "but in the real world, we're dead! How do we freaking get back!" she panicked, startling several passerbys.
"Abby," I smiled, "We are home! Look around! It's beautiful!" I spun, luxuriating in the feel of the simple white shirt and trousers I wore. I reached in my pocket and grinned at finding some cash there.
"Let's go buy a typewriter," I enthused, "There's so much to do, to accomplish! We've stumbled unto heaven!"
Abby looked a little less happy about our circumstances. She was never as much into the Bohemian ideals, but I never thought it would cross her mind that she'd rather be at home than with the bohos! But it did. She hated it and wanted to go home. I could tell, as much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew.
Abby, I thought, If you go home... I don't think I'm coming. But I didn't say it. Not because I was worried about her being mad at me or lashing out, those things didn't matter so much anymore. I just didn't want to hurt her anymore than she would be hurt. After all, she might not be able to go home either. We were dead, you know. So I kept my mouth shut. If she noticed my unusual silence, she didn't comment.
We shook off the gloomy mood quickly enough, walking down the alley looking around curiously until we reached a familiar looking apartment building with L'Amour written in big letters on top of it. Trying to place it, we couldn't figure it out until we saw the big elephant in direct line of vision from one of the windows.
"CHRISTIAN AND THE BOHOS APARTMENT!!!" We screamed, to several people's astonishment, and then ran inside.