I remember back in the day that I used to go on Wattpad and read what people were writing because it was so interesting and different, all the ways that people would take different tropes or scenarios and get so many different stories and thoughts from them and put it in story form or just into what people thought it could look like. I used to love going on and reading all the werewolf stories too, though it got kind of washed away with the arrival of Twilight, which was a bummer. I always loved the whole transformations that people came up with, some were simple: the person would just go from being a human to a werewolf, others more fantastic were their skin would morph into fur and their nails into sharp claws, and others seemed painful when they would break out of their skin, bleeding as their spines shifted and teeth were pushed out of their mouths to make way for a whole new jaw equipped with fangs and rows of cutting teeth. I don’t know, I just had this really odd dream that I’m trying to put into story format and it made me miss all of the werewolf lore that got washed out in favor of sparkly vampires I miss all the werewolf and vampire hype, back when they were ferocious and mystical beings that would the duality of man or go into dynamics of coming into one’s skin, and I don’t really see it anymore.
So, I don’t really gave me the sudden inspiration to write this a few days ago, but I remembered wanting to write something about jazz and this was born. I hope you enjoy!
A flashy dress that shines and shimmers under the stage lights, the woman seeming to glow as all the eyes in the dinner locked on her. A microphone in hand, hair in soft waves, her brown skin sparkling along with her white teeth, she opened her mouth wider and a melody poured out. The audience was entranced, dazzled, stunned by her talent, clapping in time to the piano notes, her feet seeming to glide around the stage as she danced. Three men and a solitary woman sat in the upper booth, a private gallery made to watch her from the highest view, wasted as they all spoke in hushed tones. No one looked up to see money passing hands, the thin smiles as a briefcase was slid over to the buyer’s chairs, the other patrons were too captivated by the woman on stage, her dress flaring out as she twirled, the pianist hitting the keys harder, sweat on her brow, her partner dipping as she hit a climax in the song. The crowd went wild pouring out of their seats, dancing along, moved to joining in, hands from the upper booth came together to shake on their deeds, the patrons unaware, the pianist standing as well, furiously hitting the keys. As she finishes and throws a single rose into the audience who clamored over it, she spread her arms out, the crowd moving with her, the now upper area vacated, the pianist playing her final notes. And then she and the pianist left, to be filled in by other performers who wouldn’t be able to move the crowd like their predecessors, the men in suits leaving with a different suitcase then what they had arrived with, the crowd finally quieting down as the lights dimmed. The woman and the pianist all climb into the car, a third woman joining in soon after, with the suitcase, the door closed behind them by a tired but grateful chauffeur. Who said crime never paid?
There’s something in the house. That’s all that comes to Allyn’s mind, at twelve o’clock in the morning, the tv downstairs still on, emitting the white noise that usually lulled her to sleep. Tonight, it wasn’t enough. Her dog wasn’t in the room with her again and it was setting her nerves off, the door slightly cracked just in case the dog did wander in, the light near the door still on, illuminating the room. But somehow it just didn’t feel like enough. Allyn’s teeth clenched as she heard a creaking noise, as though someone had been moving around in the hall, too big to be her dog, too much silence in between the steps to be her little brother coming to his room, and the tv was still on. Allyn hadn’t heard the door to her parents room open, so it couldn’t have been them.
She felt a chill run down her spine, goosebumps raising over her arms and she adamantly tried to ignore the cold air in the room. Thinking the words in her own head felt like it could bring the presence closer, but then maybe she was just imagining it. She bit on her tongue, tasting blood, and rolled on her side, plugging her earphones into her ears. It couldn’t get to her if she ignored it, right? After all, even if it was…something that she couldn’t see or touch, if she ignored it, it would have to go away.
Still the creaking continued.
Allyn swallowed hard and sat up in bed, bringing her phone and the earphones with her, shoving open the door aggressively. There was nothing there, but she stayed on edge the entire time. Padding down the steps, her brother was still on the couch the tv still on, burning electricity. If her parents knew the tv was still on, they’d have a fit about who was paying the bills. Allyn’s dog looked up at her curiously, stretching out and enjoying the feel of her hands stroking his head. Allyn’s shook her brother’s shoulder until he woke up and groggily walked upstairs with her, irritated at anything and everything, biting out a goodnight. Allyn wondered why she even bothered to do him any favors when she could just let him get in trouble. She opened the door for her great dane to get into the room, leaving it open just wide enough that Dash would know to open it with his nose. She lay back in bed, Dash curling up on her legs, but she swore just as she was going to sleep, something entered the room. Her fingers tightened into claws ready to attack and defend herself, Dash staring something down in the corner of the room growling for a good five minutes before settling down and staring suspiciously at the same spot for another ten before calming down, deep breathing indicating he’d fallen to sleep.
Allyn tried to calm her uneasy breathing but it felt like right behind her, something was lurking, in wait and ready for her to falter so it could strike. After psyching herself up, she furiously turned over, waking Dash, her teeth bared at the other side of her bed. There was nothing there and Dash cocked his head in confusion. She smiled apologetically and him and rubbed the back of his ears as compensation for waking him. She eventually succumbed to exhaustion, hands on her sides, hands at her side, earphones in her ears.
She woke up in the morning blearily, on her side again, in a sweat, her nails cut into her palms. She couldn’t remember when she had dreamed, but the cold sweat on her body and the shaking kept her from thinking on it. She really hoped they would move out of this house sooner rather than later.
You get to hear just the right song
That fits your mood
You dance and sing
Forgetting to keep your voice down
Dancing in a space too small for the activity
And it’s enough
I’ve done probably too much character art for Zari, and I really need to get working on a finalized sheet for them since I’ve changed their design so many times, but I at least got the top half off the outfits done for when they were in the first saints row game. They go from really formal to business casual by the end of the game as they finally get some money to buy better clothes. Then they become the head of the saints and that kinda just goes out the window, lol.
So, I had a movie night with some other friends last tonight (tonight, I guess, since I’m still up) but it was a blast. The full story is that the movie room was closed so I dragged my tv to the art room so we could still watch stuff, but man. I didn’t expect them to put on static shock, and honestly I’m glad that they did. It was a really good show, with lots of sarcasm and humor from the characters and so many references. We only got to the fourth episode where the villain is made out of rubber, but man, I am definitely going to start watching it alongside yu-gi-oh because I liked the just what was going on, even if it was a little crazy and ridiculous at times.
This is a companion piece to Superlove, but it can be read alone without it. Again I don’t own the song lyrics, those all belong to Metallica, but I do own Mya and La’Rae. I hope you enjoy!
I can’t lie, I never was fond of metal or rock music. Mya loved it, her jeans torn, hair constantly dyed pitch black, piercings everywhere. It was the antithesis to how I looked, what I listened to, my floral pajamas and dresses, heels rather than boots, and I always dyed my hair the color or lilac or lavender when it came time to dye our hair. She wore her hair straight, long and straight to her waist, and I wore mine natural, the thick curls staying close to the roots, in a tight ponytail because I refused to deal with anything longer than shoulder length hair when it came to wash day. But gods, did I love her.
Guilty as charged, but damnit it ain’t right, somebody’s controlling me
She was always listening to the metal music, some of her most often played music was Metallica, as much as I hated their dreary tones and irritating guitar riffs. It wasn’t my style, not something that I liked to listen to, but I loved how much it would make her smile, the piercing in her lip moving away to show teeth as she grinned.
Death in the air, strapped in the electric chair. This can’t be happening to me.
She was always such a hard worker, taking care of the animals at the pet shelter, always filling out forms, always so professional at work in her scrubs when she had to take care of the sicker animals, her hands moving gently to assuage them. I hated her long hours, I hated that we couldn’t be on as many dates as we used to as the shelter began to fill up, that the bags under her eyes weren’t just my imagination, that it wasn’t just her makeup. I wanted to kiss her, to help her with what she was doing, but even one other woman can only do so much. She needed staff, she needed volunteers, she needed other animal doctors. She needed what I couldn’t give her.
Who made you God to say, “I’ll take your life away?”
So, I danced harder, worked harder, stretched more, took better care of myself when she couldn’t remind me that it was 2 am in the morning and I’d been up since the day before at twelve in the afternoon. I wanted to make a few more dollars on the side, do a bit better, organize a few fundraisers, anything so I could help her out. In the end, it wasn’t enough. The shelter closed down without enough funds, without enough people to care for it. Mya had tried to be here and there at the same time and in the end, it didn’t matter. She had tearfully seen off the animals that day, getting as many that she could to good homes, putting the animals that had been horribly sick to sleep that would die without treatment, and getting all the other animals to the shelter in the city. I helped her then, but it wasn’t enough to save the shelter that she loved, and the tears that fell from her eyes made my own heart break. At least one good thing had come out of it, I had thought to myself, angry for even feeling any sort of happiness in this situation. But her bags had been packed, the small loft that she lived in cleaned and returned as she set down boxes in my apartment.
Flash before my eyes, now it’s time to die. Burning in my brain I can feel the flame
I had hung her pictures up on the wall alongside mine, my cat wary of her at first. She’d sunk into herself, typing away at the computer endlessly, trying to look smaller so she didn’t take up so much space, so she wasn’t a burden to me. Every day, before she could wake up, I’d make breakfast for her before I went to the studio, something different each day, and slowly her cheer came back as I woke her up before her alarm. It was going so well in those months. Then, I was given a better opportunity in another state, away from the city we lived in. She’d asked me what I wanted to do, and to this day I still regret breaking up with her to chase my dreams. I didn’t need to chase them at her detriment, I could’ve tried more, I could’ve made it work the long distance, but I didn’t try.
Wait for the sign to flip the switch of death, it’s the beginning of the end
And here I am, in my swanky new apartment, Fluff licking at my tears licking them off my face as Metallica blasted in the background. Thinking back to all the times she kissed me and told me she’d love me forever.
So, a bit on this: it’s all my own work and it’s a companion piece. I just was listening to the song Superlove by Lenny Kravitz and this little story was born. Also the song lyrics are from the song and I don’t own them. Just the characters and their events. Enjoy!
Hips moved to the beat, her eyes closed, tranquil and she moved. I sat at the bar entranced as the drums of the song played overhead.
I want you. I love you. Can’t leave, break through and start anew? I want your super love
She and I weren’t together anymore, we’d come here as friends, with other people, to make the tension fade. But as her feet tapped against the floor and the guitar began to play, the world fell away and I realized that maybe ending it with her was a huge mistake.
We both know the way to go, let us take a chance. This is our last dance
I could almost feel her pulling me on the dancefloor, the jam packed bar no longer around me, instead it was our old apartment and our cat, Fluff, was on the windowsill, purring contently as the sun washed over her. Her hands on my hips, a smothered laugh as she attempted to teach me just a bit of her craft. I wasn’t as good with my feet as she was, all my dexterity gone to my hands rather than my toes, but she didn’t stop. I was wearing a light dress at the time, her in yoga pants, her hair undone and teeth unbrushed. But her favorite song had come on the speaker, and she’d tied her hair back, a look of both joy and concentration on her face. She stretched out her shoulders and warmed up, then frantically switched back through all the songs that passed to get back to the first song that had inspired her. Lenny Kravitz was always La’Rae’s favorite artist.
I want your superlove, I wanna be inside your superlove
I could feel her hand on mine, as the memory faded into bitterness, the house empty save for myself and a new cat, a black one named Sugar, the pots that colorful posters that had hung alongside my Metallica posters left blank spaces on the wall that I had covered up with a new color paint to chase away the sadness that I that grew in my chest and drove me to watch late night sitcoms with Sugar sitting quietly beside me, curling up against my leg. I didn’t want to look at anything other than the screen, because then I’d see how much had changed since she’d left.
I need the spirit with the sexual, I wanna be inside your superlove
My black ripped jeans didn’t mix in with her lacy thongs when we did the laundry anymore, there was no more small moments of silliness when I’d accidentally spill something in the kitchen yet again, or either of us shrieking at the bug in the bathroom. No more kissing her neck after a long day put a crease in her forehead, and no more La’Rae affectionately draping herself over my body to get me to pay attention to her instead of the computer. She was gone, so close but so far. I’d always support her dreams, and if it meant that she had to move to another state to pursue her dreams, if it meant that we couldn’t be together anymore, if it meant that she had to leave me behind as her friend rather than her lover, then I was going to support her, no matter how much it hurt.
I want your superlove, I wanna be inside your superlove. I need the spirit with your sexual, I wanna be inside your superlove
I could see her dancing again, in the apartment that we shared, the martini in my hand making me nostalgic, but suddenly she was there again, a soft, almost embarrassed smile on her face. She threaded her fingers between mine and pulled me out to the dancefloor, the song ending with the last notes of the guitar and she said, “Dance with me again, Mya.”
Since this is my first post and I’m not sure how to really start either, I figured I’d just say hello! I’m glad that you visited my blog and I hope that you enjoy what you see, even if right now it isn’t the most populated. Anyway, welcome to the blog!