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I moved to Kirill's house! I took a bus to New York. It was interesting. There were many different types of people on the bus. A little girl got dropped off by her mom and picked up by her dad, and the driver made her promise not to leave the bus without telling him, even if she sees someone she knows at the stop. I liked listening to this woman have a very loud phone conversation in an English accent about her travels and how she got lost, and saw the sights, and had a fight with her boyfriend, and had trouble finding a place to buy tampons. I decided not to tell her she was being so loud. That would probably embarrass her. I didn't have change for headphones for the movie on the bus. It was about a dog. Oh yeah! Speaking of money, I luckily had enough to get my bus ticket and do forwarding from my PO box. I have some auctions ending soon, and I'm working on a big big database/backend for this web site that's selling like, soap. So I'm not in dire straits yet. Which is actually a nautical term for straits, or channels of water, that are perilous. It's also a band. Kirill's house is a factory. I've always wanted to live in a factory. Or some kind of firehouse, or temple, or school, or other non-house structure. It's really cool. He doesn't get the whole thing though. But there are sirens at night, and weird people hang around in the alley, and I almost-not-quite stepped on drug paraphernalia on the sidewalk. Which makes it an adventure. Well anyway, it can't be worse than Sunnydale. Not a single person I know has died yet. Keep your fingers crossed! Tags: tmrp
Current Mood:  excited!
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There was that time with Jonathan. There were four betrayals that day. Me and him were talking. He said he missed all the people at school. He wanted to see them again. Like it wasn't enough that he was willing to leave me and Warren and like, tell Buffy all our weaknesses and maybe turn us in. He also still wanted to hang out with everyone I hated from school. Like he forgave them or something. I mean, maybe you could forgive one single person, who only shoved you against the wall once because they weren't thinking and other people thought it was funny. But the whole school? The collective? Includes the people who thought it was funny and the people who didn't do anything about it and the slutty girls and the ones that say 'fag' a hundred times a day and the guy that punched me in the nose. The collective is evil incarnate, and to turn toward them is to turn away from me. My chest hurt and my skin itched. I hate being pissed off; it's very uncomfortable. Warren nodded like he approved, and I went through with the plan by stabbing Jonathan in the tummy. It didn't take very long. He didn't scream or anything. But he looked surprised and in pain and really really sad. I lied to him to get him there, he wasn't armed, and he never saw it coming. That's why he was the perfect target. I didn't find out until later that Warren wasn't really Warren. The First Evil lied to me, for months. My whole purpose in life was doing what he said, and it wasn't really him. I stopped lighting a candle every day and talking to Warren's photo for that whole period because I thought I was really talking to his ghost in person. So Warren's... whatever, spirit, or something, wherever he was, didn't hear from me that whole time, and he probably thought I forgot about him, but really the stupid First Evil was tricking me. I can't believe I fell for it. I should have known. So that's four. Jonathan against me, me against Jonathan, the First Evil against me, and if I was smarter, or looking closer, or if I just tried harder, I would have known it wasn't Warren, somehow, and maybe I wouldn't have failed him again. Muse: Andrew Wells
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Wordcount: 395Tags: theatricalmuse
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that0therguy's journal
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