D&E Plot - WARNING, Dark Content

    This kind of a thing I do. I create plots for my characters, and I spew them all over blogs. It just happens. Brain spweing. I'm sorry. :) Well, I feel sorry that you have to see this. My mind's a terrible place divided into two sectors - the happy, mischevious, light-hearted side, and the twisted, mischevious, dark-oriented side. Side A includes pranks, light dirty jokes, and the smell of milk on warm puppies. Side B includes prostitutes, war, rebellion, and forbidden love.

Outside Story;

• Mute fiddler
• Sees pretty girl/dancer
• Sees stupid attractive guy talking to girl
• Drowns out guy's words with music
• The two dance away

Dmitri & Evelyn; (Rated R)
    Timeline; Second time he sees her after separation

• Goes to rebel encampment for first time ever, trying to convince self he's not just here to hopefully overhear & see Eve
• Gets within territory, gets mauled by a couple of idiots who realize he's a foreigner (Not necessarily realize he's Russian)
• They cut out his vocal cords as a warning
• Semi-heals, stumbles into camp with violin and ragged, bloody clothes (looks even more like one of them!)
• Finds big-boss-man tent (Head (young) boss man and sub-head man (older and grizzled)), leans outside, rosins bow as he eavesdrops
• Big boss men just finishing inside, pop out, see Dom
• Advance on him, having not seen him before
• Push him against tent, D awkwardly half supported
• Alerted to activity, a man (tanner) emerges from next tent
• Young head of operation asks where he's from
• D can't answer
• Young H.O. pissed, even more suspicious, grabs him by shirt scruff
•  (would have grabbed him by hair, but found D was too tall)
• Old H.O. stops younger, opens D's mouth
• "Still has his tongue, but no vocal cords. 'Looks like he got on the wrong side of a knife."
• Younger scowls, questions his nationality
• Older about to check - Russian Orthodox circumcised 
• Dom makes weird noise
• Older man just stops and laughs
• "Not worth it!"
• Younger boots him in the butt, sends him stumbling off
• Tosses violin after him
• Violin splinters 

Summer Day

           Moment after moment flashes by, even now. I can pause, reach into the depths of my thought process, and reflect. But I can not live it again.
          Nathan writes beside me, and I feel guilty. The shame digs at my gut like a night-crawler. Ryann and I found two mating once. She poked it in her yellow clad boots and the two split, spiraling back into the ground a respective two inches away from one another. Is that what Nathan and I are to be seen as? Two overlooked life forms, desperate for an unknown emotion? Upon being discovered, will we retract from one another in fear? I hope not. I'm scared already.
         He's writing of his best memory of the summer. It's of the day I returned home from my long stint at RISD. I am not. I'm writing of how scared I am of the conflicting emotions and ambitions inside me, and whether he'll leave me or not. Simply an extension of my summer, that's all.
         They say that things never happen the same way twice. Gatsby proved it so, and Nick Carroway was the only one alive to repeat it after all was done. I can only recreate and improve. Am I okay with that?
          He's one of the best things that's ever happened to me. He says he loves me. I know I love him. Can he still love me even if I'm orientated towards a life he won't like? I'm only human, and I only know facts and feelings. I know I want him more than anything I've ever wanted before.

      And that's enough for me.

BeastlyFroth Hello!

And now, for a housewarming present before I make this thing pretty. :)

He's Got My Nose - POem

He's got my nose

This beastly foe!

Quote me now,

For he has my nose!

My skin, it tingles,

My scalp, it gapes!

I fear the obvious-

My face is reshaped!

So where is my nose,

The instrument of scents-

I've lost it as of late!

It's my utmost lament!

Nathan has it!

That unruly boy,

He has no fear,

But I'm out to destroy!

          And so there it is. I sit here nose-less, bathing in my own saline tears. They don't flow as normal tears do - that requires a nose. Instead they fall randomly, sporadically, across my keyboard. Snot bubbles from my gaping face and dribbles gently down my quivering chin. I can see it all. Noses get in the way.