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26 January 2008 @ 07:29 pm
I am a sick and sad person
01 August 2007 @ 10:09 pm
The Search for Cinderella
Another snippet I found hidden away in my folders..

Gareth’s face expressed his displeasure as he surveyed the sparsely lit, warm tavern. The oddly shaped room was full of inebriated men, young and old, teasing, laughing, smoking; in general acting like a gathering of a plebeian mob. Some were crowded in tiny corners, playing, from what Gareth surmised, illegal card tricks while others tried their luck with the local whores. The filthy inn owner made another crude gesture that caused another round of rancorous laughter among the people seated in the low ceiling room. The sound only made Gareth wince. He couldn’t believe how his own trained army of men could so easily turn to such low class, tasteless shenanigans.

It had only been a day since his troops had landed in the Calumrian lands and the men were already infamous in the local villages. Gareth shook his head in displeasure at the thought. He scanned the place for a quiet corner and found one at the very end of the room under a low lying beam. The dark haired man shimmied though the crush of people towards the goat skin covered bench. He had only settled in the spot of the briefest of moments when a warm arm came around his shoulder.

“Greetings, loyal brave commander of mine,”

Gareth muttered something under his breath at the person’s arrival and it was anything but welcoming.

“Ignoring me again,” The man snickered, leaning in further.

Gareth crushed his teeth together in an attempt to prevent himself from doing the man any bodily harm; after all he was his employer. Gareth wrinkled his nose as he realized the young man stank of smoke and cheap wine. Gareth mumbled under his breath something about ‘princes and paupers’.

The younger man gave a hiccup of a giggle and fainted dead away on Gareth’s shoulder.

The older man looked at the fallen man with disdain and decided it would be best to get his employer to his sleeping quarters. He hooked his arms under the man’s shoulders and rested his fallen head on the leather of his uniform making sure the silver medals, a sign of his status, wouldn’t bite into his charge’s skin. The younger man had always looked so disturbingly waif like, but more so now, Gareth thought as he lifted his employer. Prince of all the lands and still like the child he had met five years age. Gareth knew the prince was more then capable of killing a man with his bare hands; superb training and fine breeding had seen to that. The prince grunted in his shoulders as Gareth carefully manoeuvred him under a thick beam at the entrance of his room. Gareth had examined the room with intense scrutiny before he allowed his prince to even enter the room. King Joseph had few enemies but one couldn’t be certain in the perilous times they lived in, especially with the task at hand. The two guards, at permanent watch outside the corridor, made a move to come forward and help but Gareth shook his head in negation.

The room was almost bare; typical for the inns that dotted the rural areas. The crude, four paned, window was latched firmly to prevent insects and intruders. The bed of a solid piece of oak dressed in what was, probably, the tavern owner’s finest linen. The jovial, round man could barely contain the excitement he felt when Gareth had informed him that the royal party would be staying the night at his place. The lands they were visiting were so remote that the only royal encampments there had been abandoned years ago. The isolated castle was so musty and covered in overgrown weed that the prince had rejected it in one look. Gareth was reluctant to disclose that he agreed with the decision; the castle had looked quite vulnerable and unprotected.

The royal commander placed his prince on the mattress, who muttered feverishly in his sleep. It was a slight whisper; too soft for the untrained ears but Gareth caught it easily.

“I need to find her.”

Gareth winced as he heard those words being uttered. This whole debacle; trampling though forests; drilling through mountain ranges; fighting off desperate old hags; was all her fault. The pretty, winsome girl had arrived at the yearly ball and left with the prince’s heart. She had been so utterly beguiling that half the people at the ball had stopped at her entrance. Her pretty smile and appealing looks had charmed most men including the prince but Gareth was not someone to be distracted easily. From underneath her sweet scents he easily picked up the pungent odour of magic. She seemed harmful enough and certainly didn’t look more intelligent then the common ground hog so he let her be. After all many woman, including the court ladies, liked the oomph added to their beauty by the slight touches of home grown magic. It was nothing new but the amount and the strength was a tad more then the garden variety. Though Gareth felt slightly suspicious that she solely chose the prince as her dance partner throughout the whole evening, he had to admit it was easy to see why. The prince was clearly the most handsome man in the room. No one had the poise and grace the prince had inherited and nor was anyone as striking as he was. His golden features coupled with his dark hair gave him unconventional looks that most women would die for. Gareth himself was too dark and rugged to be of any comparison. Not that he really needed to look pretty for his job. He was merely a soldier; forever obliged to fight for his king.

Gareth woke up the next day before sun up. He had chosen to sleep on the wooden floor next to the prince’s bed to keep a closer eye on the darling of the court. He knew the younger man would never be happy seeing him on the floor. The boy was so stubborn about refusing the required protocol. In fact his prince was stubborn about plenty of things. The clothes he wore; the friends he kept; and the girl he wanted to marry. He had met only her once and he had fallen head over heels for her completely ignoring the fact that she had left without looking back. He didn’t know her name; her social status; her hobbies, interests, anything. Gareth knew his prince was a romantic but the height of his sense of romance was surprising. What wasn’t surprising was the fact that the King had given into his pampered son’s wishes and allowed him to follow his dreams and woo the woman he desired so much. The prince was his youngest child and remained the baby in the court’s eyes.

The woman they quested after had left at midnight, in such a hurry, that she left no clue of her identity except for one; her glass slipper.

Gareth’s sharp eyesight had found it wedged between the bends of red carpet at the edge of the grand stair case when he was ordering his men about to search the grounds. It was very dainty and looked so out of place in his rough hands. The prince, upon seeing it, had snatched it away immediately. That was frankly the first time Gareth had felt a bit put out by the eagerness the younger man was showing. Never had anything so greatly captivated the prince.

Gareth watched the slumbering prince for a few extra moments as the light, flooding in from outside started to grow warmer, before he headed out to see to the day’s plans.

Most of the straggling guards stood in awe at the mighty scene before them. One side of the cliff edge faced a deep lush valley laced with silvery streams that twisted from a purple haze of a mountain range.

Gareth held up the five stones on his palm and groaned inaudibly as he saw them pointing towards the far away mountain range. It was obvious that they needed to go over it to get to their destination. The mountains didn’t seem to have a great height and the weather was pleasant so Gareth made the calculation that it was going take them only a day and a half to get to the base of the mountain. From there his maps informed him the kingdom’s border was only a few miles. He fervently wished that the mysterious girl wasn’t from another kingdom because he couldn’t bear to have to go over diplomatic permission to get to the foreign lands. If the prince was to remain in command he would surely deem the protocol as a waste of time and move on in without permission. Gareth winced as he imagined the great faux-pas that would be.

The essence of the glass slipper had been solely made of magic so it was easy for the court mage to extract it and plant in the guiding stones. The essence always led to where it was created so the five grey stones would always point to the place where they were made. Gareth was worried this could all turn out to be wild goose chase that led to broken hearts and wasted supplies. They had already spent a month wandering in wilderness following a magic essence that could have been produced half way over the world. He really didn’t have the energy or the patience to follow the prince gallivanting into the high seas to find his true love. Easier would have been to see which woman from the whole of the kingdom would fit in the glass slipper. The silly idea made Gareth laugh but anything seemed plausible to his sleep deprived brain.

Gareth shouted an order to his contingent to move forward to the slope that would allow them to guide their horses safely.
Current Mood: draineddrained
23 October 2006 @ 05:01 pm
{Slash, Yaoi, Boy-on-Boy}Lord Dominic finally gets the opportunity to court the woman of his dreams but fate intervenes and he ends up saving a common thief’s life by announcing the man as his future consort.

Dominic sighed as he took the chance to look at Lady Delilah.
Her stunning brown-green eyes flashed as she laughed at another one of Lord Jeremiah’s jokes. Her sharply cut gown caressed every curve of her body delicately as she moved.
Dominic closed his eyes as the sight in front of him began to overpower his senses. He couldn’t believe the woman he had been obsessed with for so long would finally become his.
Ever since he had seen the woman, last spring at the governor’s ball, he had been infatuated with her. Her prominent features and flawless form had first attracted him to her but later, when he shadowed her progress in society; he had found her grace and vivaciousness just as appealing.
When he had come of age his parents had insisted that he remain unattached until he completed his military training and found favour in court. He had obeyed his parent’s wishes since he himself had found no one that commanded his attention at that point in time.
Now that the king had publicly and privately bestowed upon Dominic his favour, the man was free to do as he wished. His family and the public now eagerly awaited Dominic’s announcement of a pending engagement. Many noble women had been circling around him, each hoping that Dominic would notice them. Many would try ridiculous underhanded tactics in hopes of getting the popular brown eyed bachelor but none could replace fair Lady Delilah.
Dominic got up from his ornately decorated chair as he realized that he had finally found the chance to ask the Lady for the next dance. The hall was now clear as the exhausted dancers had taken a break from their merriment. Many were now taking extravagant gulps of wine as they tried to muster up energy to begin again. Lady Delilah was standing at the far end taking small sips from her own cherry.
As the man started to walk up to her the halls doors rammed open.
People backed up into walls as a brigade of guards raced in, following a fugitive. The man they were pursuing had shaggy brown hair and was wearing scruffy clothing. The insolent man jumped on a well laid out food table and ran across it scattering heaps of food on spluttering nobles. The man jumped down and looked around wildly trying to figure out an escape route. He suddenly attacked a feeble looking noble who was wearing his ancestral sword. Ignoring the wailing man’s pleas the escapee brandished the sword around threateningly as guards began to surround him. Dominic also pulled out a rapier from his scabbard as his military instincts came into action.
Dominic observed the man who seemed quite proficient with the sword as he took one guard down. The Lord readied for attack as the man turned his back on him.
With one swift motion Dominic had an arm around the man’s waist and a grip on his neck.
“One move and you are dead, peasant,” Dominic hissed in the man’s ear.
The man gave a slight twitch but remained passive.

Dominic then pushed the man into the hold of the waiting guards. He watched satisfactorily as they led him away.
“You were brilliant, Lord Dominic,” a melodic voice came from his left. Dominic blushed as he realized the source was Lady Delilah.

The next day Dominic woke up in a cheerful mood. He smiled as a sharp gust of wind hit his face as he opened his window. Not even bad weather could ruin his fabulous mood. Lady Delilah had finally spoken to him and that was all that mattered.
Current Mood: crazycrazy
23 October 2006 @ 02:43 pm

Blue Blue

My insanity
Current Mood: gloomygloomy
21 October 2006 @ 06:29 pm



Fuck this bloody reality, It’s broken from inside

Its shattered soulless countenance needs its respite

No glue can weld its trembling cracks

No pixie dust can mend

Dreams find death in reality

So I’m pushing it away to end 


I'm not happy..  To improve my spirits I made a recommendation list.. http://www.fictionpress.com/c2/62/0/0/1/ I'm going insane...

Current Mood: aggravatedaggravated
Current Music: National geographic.0_o
06 October 2006 @ 02:36 pm
Death to the devil
The fiend of words
The pain of the mouth
The acid of the tongue
The fucking of hate
Making me the bait
Of life and fate
Current Mood: coldcold
30 September 2006 @ 10:55 pm

The Master’s Servant

Chapter 9


Don’t have anything to say at the moment except that I’m baaaadddd at writing. I don’t know why but I have the urge to write in netspeak. I don’t seem to be improving my writing with this story. All my originals and the new D/H story, I wrote, look way better than this and I don’t know why. I seem to be stuck in a time capsule with this one. You have no idea how long I’ve stared at this first paragraph. It’s immensely frustrating to have your brain completely empty…




“You can’t be leaving so soon, master. It seems as if you just came yesterday,” Ma sobbed, miserably. She rubbed her eyes against her food stained apron.  Her red hair had escaped the confines of its leather strap.  Strands of it hung loosely around her round face. Her nose and cheeks were ruddy; the after effects of excessive crying.


Snape touched her face tenderly and then, overcome with emotions, enveloped her in a tight hug.  He didn’t need to say anything to reveal his feelings.


Harry, nervously, shifted his weight at the balls of his feet. Looking at the man made him feel queasy. He had decided staring intently at his own entwined hands was the best option.


The man, who was currently encircling his thoughts and also ma, looked up at Harry discretely.  Harry, who had finally decided that looking at ma’s back was safe enough, found himself gazing into the depths of Snape’s eyes. They shared a brief moment of connection before the older man lowered his gaze.  Harry felt warmth rise up from his neck.


Snape gave Ma another firm squeeze before letting her go. 


“I’ll leave tomorrow so I hope you can cook up something scrumptious.”


At the prospect of cooking, ma’s face brightened up. She wiped her face with her apron with a sparkle in her eyes. “Oh it’ll be a feast you will never forget.”


She gave a peck on the man’s shaven cheek and nodded at the servants to follow her. Harry straightened up immediately with the intention of following orders but ma stopped him with a wave of the hand. She put her hands on her waist and looked up at him.


“No, no, Harry, you must help Master Snape pack up for his journey.”


Harry stared at her with wide eyes and she frowned at him, “What are you waiting for, Harry.”


Harry stammered something as the heat around his face began to squeeze his precious supply of air. He ignored the pounding in his heart and dutifully began following the man back to his room.


Snape turned around to face Harry, “I really don’t believe I need your services.”


Harry heavily collided against the man’s chest because of the abrupt stop. The master of the manor put gentle arms on his shoulders to stabilize the green eyed boy. Harry very nearly shook the hands off himself. He ducked down to discreetly rub his assaulted nose. Who knew fabric could burn like that?


“Still angry are we,” The dark eyed man muttered almost too softly to be heard but his servant was close enough to do just that.


Harry, who still looking at his feet, completely ignored the man and his distressing comments.


“I don’t think it’s appropriate for a servant to let his master deprive him of his tasks,” Harry, mumbled hotly.


Severus sighed as he nodded for the boy to go ahead.


As they both walked down the damp corridor they passed the picture of the master which Harry had been cleaning the first time he had met the man. Harry unaccountably remembered that day fondly. He felt lighthearted as he remembered how much he had hated the man because of incredibly petty reasons. Severus gave him an odd look when he observed how Harry’s temperament had changed. He looked blithe and pleasant and Severus was saddened at the thought that his leaving might be the reason for the change. The older man once again gave a sigh and moved forward to push into the medieval door that led to his chambers.


Harry’s automatic response was to light the fire as he sensed the chillness in the air as Severus opened up the heavy curtains to get the light in. A sharp gust of wind suddenly banged up against the window barging it open, startling Snape. Harry immediately got up to place a steadying arm around Severus.


“Don’t,” was Severus’ response as he shrugged off the hand and Harry felt pained by the fact that the man couldn’t even bear being close to him. The boy was visibly put down and his shoulders drooped in sadness as he realized how his earlier rebuff must have hurt.


Feeling the tension increase in the room Snape decided to distract himself by babbling about the weather. Harry morosely looked up and dully agreed with him that indeed the weather was terrible.


A loud crack of thunder made both men jump. Harry gave a slight panicked look and Severus gave his crooked, rare smile as he took in the fact that Harry was scared of the storm.  Harry gave him the ‘what the hell is the idiot smiling about’ look and that immediately put a damper on Snape’s mood. Snape couldn’t believe he had finally deciphered most of Harry’s looks.


As Harry pulled out his entire wardrobe, reality struck him. The man was really leaving. Harry looked back at the solemn man and was surprised to find his heart break at the thought of seeing the man leave.


“Will you ever come back?” Harry asked impulsively. He bit his lip, taken aback by his own boldness. 


The man started and looked up at him quite surprised, “No, I have no plans of returning, ever.” 


The dark haired boy gave a disappointed nod and went back to packing his master’s belongings.



Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
24 September 2006 @ 07:58 pm

Warnings: This is Slash, meaning Gay stuff. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Author’s note: My First Original Fiction so please be gentle with it.
Summery: A lonely boy wants a friend but finds a powerful lust demon instead. Demons are not meant to fall in love... Slash 

The Alarm clock’s buzzer annoying rang once again but all in vain. Jay, the owner of the sliver, prehistoric clock slept on unaware that he was once again going to be late. This happened all the time but little did anyone know that this common occurrence, due to certain events, was going to change his life.
Current Mood: busybusy
22 September 2006 @ 05:52 pm
Commas were put on this planet to annoy me.. that's all.. I give up.. I should have given up when I freaked my SAT Prep teacher by getting the highest marks in prep class even though I failed the grammar section.. really... MY SAT SCORE (cough1970coughdidn'tgoabove2000wah!!cough) etches in blood how fruitless it is to teach me any kind of Grammar.. Why can't I write like a normal human being!!

Ps.. Why is my journal starting to sound like a loadful of ranting and whining.. Bah! now I'm pissed of at myself..
Current Music: Computer humming.............
16 September 2006 @ 09:09 pm
No I am not a raving lunitic and no you won't see this on newschannels.. ahem.. but I'm sick!!!!! and tired!!!! of the people in my Uni courses. They're stupid, argumentative, Inspid, Idiotic, Pathetic that every time I attend classes with them my iq level drops a billion points. I've taken to pretending I'm antisocial so I won't have to talk to them...though I'm not......Argh!!! This must be the curse all those reviewers were talking about when I don't finish stories!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!