Human Emotion
By: Platinum Prince
Standard Disclaimer:
I don't own these characters and just so you know, I also don't own very much dough. So if you are looking to sue, all you will get is a bill, But don't steal the story if you or I'll set phasers to kill.
The thunderous clash of titans could not compare to the resounding sound of my own pulse. I can hear it echoing between my ears like the waves slamming against the cold unforgiving rock that is my skull, unburdened by any obstacle blocking its destructive path. After all I did go to great lengths to destroy my brain last night, and if nothing else I am through. At least that burdensome conscience should have died along with it. I would have liked to hear its last pitiful wails as it was swallowed by the abyss. It should have resigned itself to knowing I was a lost cause years ago. It could have avoided such a fate but it seems it was as self destructive as I am. The poor pitiful fool.
Arms are stiff, as are my legs. Head has been caught between the blacksmith's hammer and the anvil. Eyes are blurry and stomach swimming in a whirlpool spinning into a vortex that even a black hole could not fathom to create. All in all I feel fine, simply peachy, now if only I could ask the room to stop moving.
Evidently that is too much to ask but at least the blunt of the storm has past and the walls are only swaying. Perhaps if I lay still and don't concentrate on any of the agonizing and dreadfully painful rewards of my night out's exploits I will be able to fall back into the land of the comatose and sleep my way through this hang over from hell.
The door bell rings with the force of a hundred temple gongs sending the world on its head, or rather my head. Perhaps if I use my dormant physic abilities to transmit the fact I'm in no mood for company they will get the picture and leave. Perhaps I can make them burst into flames as well if they don't leave quickly enough. Yes a nice pile of ashes, they will soon join that pesky conscience of mine in hell.
The bell rings again sending the sensation of millions of chards of glass stabbing into the interior of my empty skull. I forgot, I killed what was left of my mind last night, along with any physic abilities that would come ever so handy in this very situation. Though if I hadn't killed it then I might not be quite so anti social at the moment. The joy of paradoxes in the morning.
"Eiri... Eiri wake up its past noon. I know you are in there Eiri and if you don't get your sorry ass out of bed it will be the devil to pay! Are you listening to me Eiri Uesagi?"
Correction, the joy of paradoxes in the early afternoon then, there isn't much difference. All I know is that somehow I manage to pull myself out of the embrace of my lover's arms. Dear sweet overstuffed pillow I bid thee farewell. I hope to fall into the paradise that is your sweet welcoming touch soon. It is thoughts like these that remind me I am a romance author.
"I'm coming you foul mouthed witch."
I think I nearly ripped the door off its hinges, an effort I paid for with an over powering sensation of vertigo.
"What a coincidence though, I was just thinking of lighting you aflame. You could keep my conscience company in hell and the devil will get a worse headache than mine the way you two yammer."
"I see you are your normal pleasant self. I know you are not a morning person but this is ridiculous. Besides it's three in the afternoon, it's too late to be a bad morning person. "
"It's never too late. It's always morning somewhere so I can stay as ill tempered here as long as I want."
"With that kind of logic you can also drink yourself into a stupor whenever you want. After all it's happy hour somewhere, so get drunk of your sorry ass and forget to have a shower whenever you want you dirty sewer rat."
Perhaps I did forget a shower and the stench of sweat, smoke, and alcohol was a bit strong but you would think one's sister would be a bit more loving than this. So what if I had essentially told her to burn and go to hell. I don't have a conscience to bother me about such details. Damn it I do, that stubborn bastard won't give up and die. Take a vacation as least and leave me alone you sadistic disembodied voice.
I lead her into what I call my living room and fall into my chair. She gracefully seats herself and pulls it forward, intruding on my personal space even more.
"I was tired and wasn't expecting any visitors today. If you'll excuse me I'll go be foul tempered and odorous in the comfort of my lover's arms."
"Lover? Since when have you ever been in a serious enough relationship to call someone your lover? Half the time you don' even know their name."
"My pillow you loud mouthed witch. I have a hang over; can't you at least have the decency to refrain from yelling in my ear?
I know I'm glaring. I know my hair is a mess, my cloths are wrinkled, I probably do smell in an unpleasant way, and my voice is harsher than normal. So why can't she take a hint and leave. This had better be important or I'll tie my laptop to her and send her and my latest creation into the inferno.
"Tell me why you are here so I can dismiss you and get back to sleep."
"Well dear brother, father has been feeling his years lately and wishes for your presence before he enters his deathbed."
"That old codger will never die just to spite me and you know that. He's been on his deathbed every couple weeks ever since I left home. Mika I'm tired."
I can tell she's glaring at me now through those dark sunglasses of hers. The ends of her blonde hair are twitching like the medusa and any moment now she'll pull of those glasses and strike with deadly accuracy.
"Of course you're tired, you were out all night."
"I don't want to be here Mika, and I don't want to go back even more. I'm not in the mood for this anymore."
Her face softens and I see her hand reach out and rest it on my shoulder. My first reaction is to brush her off but with the help of that persistently nagging voice in my head I resist the temptation.
"I know Eiri, but he does want to see you and you know it would make the old man happy. Think about it a little."
I watch her collect herself and stand, glancing over my apartment she turns to me and then departs, closing the door quietly.
Sleep or a shower? After mulling over it for several minutes or second I opt for the latter. I don't think I could fall back asleep now that I am aware of the scent of crowds and too much drink.
In spite of all my ailments I'll never admit to Tohma he was right about me regretting such indulgences. I'd rather spend eternity writing this romantic sewage and throwing to the mercy of the fan girls. An unpleasant fate to be sure, but nothing in comparison to admitting to Tohma he was right.
After shedding my smoke scented white shirt and chaffing black pants I'm already feeling much better anyway. Turning on the shower the hot, almost biting water washes away the grit and grim of the city, all those impurities swirling into the drain and out of sight. My sweat covered hair felt lighter even with the weight of water clinging to every strand. In a word, it was refreshing.
Turning off the water and stepping out into the cooler air a shiver running through me involuntarily. I welcomed the warmth of my old gray sweater and a pair of jeans. Pushing the damp locks and slipping on my reading glasses I returned to my short story. It was due today and funds were on the shallow end of the pool so it was best I turned this in on time. Housewives and school girls brace yourselves.
I know I write relatively short chapters, but I am working on lengthening them. I'm often torn between editing and length as I try to meet my self imposed deadlines.
I was a little slower than normal posting this chapter. I had to go in for shots and then and MRI the next day. My doctor is a wonderful person but I hope I don't have to see her for a very long time.
Enough of my excuses, please tell me what you think, any advise, etc. I'd like to be able to grow as an author and to do so I need objective insight. Thank you for reading.
By: Platinum Prince
Standard Disclaimer:
I don't own these characters and just so you know, I also don't own very much dough. So if you are looking to sue, all you will get is a bill, But don't steal the story if you or I'll set phasers to kill.
The thunderous clash of titans could not compare to the resounding sound of my own pulse. I can hear it echoing between my ears like the waves slamming against the cold unforgiving rock that is my skull, unburdened by any obstacle blocking its destructive path. After all I did go to great lengths to destroy my brain last night, and if nothing else I am through. At least that burdensome conscience should have died along with it. I would have liked to hear its last pitiful wails as it was swallowed by the abyss. It should have resigned itself to knowing I was a lost cause years ago. It could have avoided such a fate but it seems it was as self destructive as I am. The poor pitiful fool.
Arms are stiff, as are my legs. Head has been caught between the blacksmith's hammer and the anvil. Eyes are blurry and stomach swimming in a whirlpool spinning into a vortex that even a black hole could not fathom to create. All in all I feel fine, simply peachy, now if only I could ask the room to stop moving.
Evidently that is too much to ask but at least the blunt of the storm has past and the walls are only swaying. Perhaps if I lay still and don't concentrate on any of the agonizing and dreadfully painful rewards of my night out's exploits I will be able to fall back into the land of the comatose and sleep my way through this hang over from hell.
The door bell rings with the force of a hundred temple gongs sending the world on its head, or rather my head. Perhaps if I use my dormant physic abilities to transmit the fact I'm in no mood for company they will get the picture and leave. Perhaps I can make them burst into flames as well if they don't leave quickly enough. Yes a nice pile of ashes, they will soon join that pesky conscience of mine in hell.
The bell rings again sending the sensation of millions of chards of glass stabbing into the interior of my empty skull. I forgot, I killed what was left of my mind last night, along with any physic abilities that would come ever so handy in this very situation. Though if I hadn't killed it then I might not be quite so anti social at the moment. The joy of paradoxes in the morning.
"Eiri... Eiri wake up its past noon. I know you are in there Eiri and if you don't get your sorry ass out of bed it will be the devil to pay! Are you listening to me Eiri Uesagi?"
Correction, the joy of paradoxes in the early afternoon then, there isn't much difference. All I know is that somehow I manage to pull myself out of the embrace of my lover's arms. Dear sweet overstuffed pillow I bid thee farewell. I hope to fall into the paradise that is your sweet welcoming touch soon. It is thoughts like these that remind me I am a romance author.
"I'm coming you foul mouthed witch."
I think I nearly ripped the door off its hinges, an effort I paid for with an over powering sensation of vertigo.
"What a coincidence though, I was just thinking of lighting you aflame. You could keep my conscience company in hell and the devil will get a worse headache than mine the way you two yammer."
"I see you are your normal pleasant self. I know you are not a morning person but this is ridiculous. Besides it's three in the afternoon, it's too late to be a bad morning person. "
"It's never too late. It's always morning somewhere so I can stay as ill tempered here as long as I want."
"With that kind of logic you can also drink yourself into a stupor whenever you want. After all it's happy hour somewhere, so get drunk of your sorry ass and forget to have a shower whenever you want you dirty sewer rat."
Perhaps I did forget a shower and the stench of sweat, smoke, and alcohol was a bit strong but you would think one's sister would be a bit more loving than this. So what if I had essentially told her to burn and go to hell. I don't have a conscience to bother me about such details. Damn it I do, that stubborn bastard won't give up and die. Take a vacation as least and leave me alone you sadistic disembodied voice.
I lead her into what I call my living room and fall into my chair. She gracefully seats herself and pulls it forward, intruding on my personal space even more.
"I was tired and wasn't expecting any visitors today. If you'll excuse me I'll go be foul tempered and odorous in the comfort of my lover's arms."
"Lover? Since when have you ever been in a serious enough relationship to call someone your lover? Half the time you don' even know their name."
"My pillow you loud mouthed witch. I have a hang over; can't you at least have the decency to refrain from yelling in my ear?
I know I'm glaring. I know my hair is a mess, my cloths are wrinkled, I probably do smell in an unpleasant way, and my voice is harsher than normal. So why can't she take a hint and leave. This had better be important or I'll tie my laptop to her and send her and my latest creation into the inferno.
"Tell me why you are here so I can dismiss you and get back to sleep."
"Well dear brother, father has been feeling his years lately and wishes for your presence before he enters his deathbed."
"That old codger will never die just to spite me and you know that. He's been on his deathbed every couple weeks ever since I left home. Mika I'm tired."
I can tell she's glaring at me now through those dark sunglasses of hers. The ends of her blonde hair are twitching like the medusa and any moment now she'll pull of those glasses and strike with deadly accuracy.
"Of course you're tired, you were out all night."
"I don't want to be here Mika, and I don't want to go back even more. I'm not in the mood for this anymore."
Her face softens and I see her hand reach out and rest it on my shoulder. My first reaction is to brush her off but with the help of that persistently nagging voice in my head I resist the temptation.
"I know Eiri, but he does want to see you and you know it would make the old man happy. Think about it a little."
I watch her collect herself and stand, glancing over my apartment she turns to me and then departs, closing the door quietly.
Sleep or a shower? After mulling over it for several minutes or second I opt for the latter. I don't think I could fall back asleep now that I am aware of the scent of crowds and too much drink.
In spite of all my ailments I'll never admit to Tohma he was right about me regretting such indulgences. I'd rather spend eternity writing this romantic sewage and throwing to the mercy of the fan girls. An unpleasant fate to be sure, but nothing in comparison to admitting to Tohma he was right.
After shedding my smoke scented white shirt and chaffing black pants I'm already feeling much better anyway. Turning on the shower the hot, almost biting water washes away the grit and grim of the city, all those impurities swirling into the drain and out of sight. My sweat covered hair felt lighter even with the weight of water clinging to every strand. In a word, it was refreshing.
Turning off the water and stepping out into the cooler air a shiver running through me involuntarily. I welcomed the warmth of my old gray sweater and a pair of jeans. Pushing the damp locks and slipping on my reading glasses I returned to my short story. It was due today and funds were on the shallow end of the pool so it was best I turned this in on time. Housewives and school girls brace yourselves.
I know I write relatively short chapters, but I am working on lengthening them. I'm often torn between editing and length as I try to meet my self imposed deadlines.
I was a little slower than normal posting this chapter. I had to go in for shots and then and MRI the next day. My doctor is a wonderful person but I hope I don't have to see her for a very long time.
Enough of my excuses, please tell me what you think, any advise, etc. I'd like to be able to grow as an author and to do so I need objective insight. Thank you for reading.