amityville_sweetheart: (Default)
I have resigned DCNation, but one of the mods has actually "Denied", in their own words, my resignation. My resignation post has been deleted from OOC. So much for RL comes before game, huh?

ESPECIALLY in light of a response like this, I HAVE resigned. My canon characters are up for adoption, I am taking my journals with me, and my OCs as well.

I don't want to speak of this anymore. I love you guys, you all still have my friendship if you want it, and I hope all the best for the comm as a whole.

Between

Aug. 13th, 2009 03:51 am
amityville_sweetheart: (Spell)
Between land and leylines, it chases me. I fear it, but I also desire it. It's a freedom I've known before, that led down a dark path of inner death and resurrection. I have known this path before many times and it seeks me out again in flesh and vengeance.

Sometimes I do not run when the darkness is nearby, and I can't remember whether I left, or was taken. Does it matter? My actions merely are, despite my intentions, so doesn't one make the other vanity? What is represented is not merely a donor of genetic life, a former host, but freedom! Then I remember the chill silence. The loneliness and depravity, always watching, too cowardly to act. I remember an ancient house of horrors, and the last children of my house destroyed by my own apathy.

I run.

Considering the circumstances, I begin to see why I was a wise choice. I have been sent no aid, only marked to journey awhile until I have aligned myself. This, too, will all be forgotten when I return, but ideas do not die, they only grow and branch further.

In what is barely a thought, I relive this each time I cross the lines. It is fleeting now and holds less power. I remember what I could become, a calloused creature hidden from what is mortal, and physical, and pain-- and I reject it. There is nothing else to do now, now that it's already begun.

Across the leylines, shards and echoes whisper to me. Like a living thing, the lines ensnare those that wish to become a part of its power. They don't understand what it is to be everything and nothing, to become one with something so grandiose that all vision of your shell falls away, and you desire it no more...

As always, I must come back. The tangible is physically nauseating. I have to eat.

Everything smells and tastes exotic and strange, my skin feels tight over my bones, and the duality of it all returns. Less and less each time, now so fast that I barely remember to note it at all. It's easier that way; easier than it pulling at me like grief for something not yet dead.

How much power would you give up some of yourself for? Would you let the vultures swarm you for a day in exchange for a year as king? Would anyone? I understand the crimes of my family now more than ever. What an abomination they have placed before all eyes, what terrors they have inflicted upon themselves, and all for this, an identity lost among the screams of those who chose the vultures.

I can not be bitter. I am the balance, forged with care and unity and the blood and tears of my guardians.

Still, the world is set upon wagers, and I have gambled away all I have for this. I can not help but be resentful of my own bitterness, my own ingratitude.

The fusion is not perfect, but that is the beauty, I suppose. It never can be and it never shall be.

I pray. I pray every night like I've never prayed in my life. I do everything but beg, because this path is set, and I have chosen it many times over, whether I have known it or not.

My footfalls don't make a sound to his side and I listen to the steady breathing. All can not be set in this world, lest I would never have all that has been given to me. The lines and their echoes are not allowed in this darkness. This room is sacred. That world falls away from me like the shadow of a passing nightmare, and in his half-asleep state, I pull his arm around me. He embraces me and murmurs something lost to slumber.

I dream of stars and a new dawn.
amityville_sweetheart: (Thinking)
11-07-2007

Corrine knows what people would say to this. This is irresponsible and reckless. Going alone is stupid. Not telling anyone is deceptive.

They wouldn't hear or listen that this is something Corrine wants, and needs, to solve alone. Maybe it won't solve anything, maybe that's why they'd protest, but Corrine's spent long enough letting people fight her battles for her, defend her, and take the brunt of situations for her.

She's dressed down, doing her best to look normal. Even if she hasn't much felt normal recently, she's making the effort.

No one escorts her to the room at the end of the hall.
amityville_sweetheart: (Default)
Probably NSFW

The wind was strong. That's why Therese had decided to do it, to carry all the laundry out to the yard despite the drizzle. It was Casey's turn, really, but she was sweating out a fever in bed, and it wasn't like Casey had ever really done it when it was her turn. It took Therese four tries to get Genie to start his homework, but he finally was.

The laundry was almost dry and the rain had stopped, and Therese was digging through the wood pile. The flask was still buried right where she left it, and she stepped behind the flapping sheets, sat down and took a swig. Mama was away in Wilmington with that guy, with Bobby or Billy or Benny or something else stupid like that. He refused to come to the house anymore, he said there was something wrong with them, "wrong with the damn kids", and Therese had smiled as she listened to all of it.

And then, too... )

OOC

Dec. 5th, 2007 05:30 pm
amityville_sweetheart: (Chibi OOC)
With the laptop kerdeads I'm keeping up on my tags. Please lemme know if I've missed someone, many apologies in advance.

One year later is still rolling.
The sports zone is still rolling.
Starry hyper emoticon is still rolling.
Circle closing fast is still rolling.
Bubble is still rolling.
amityville_sweetheart: (Chibi OOC)
Yammering to myself so I can actually remember it later. Oy.

Brainstorming )
amityville_sweetheart: (Mun OOC)
DamageGirl981: OMG
lazy april x: OMG WHUT
DamageGirl981: Is happening on Corrine's birthday.
lazy april x: ooh! significant?
lazy april x: it seems like it should be
DamageGirl981: Actually, I hadn't even realized it until just now.
lazy april x: ohh.
DamageGirl981: But I am including it in.
lazy april x: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CORRINE
lazy april x: HERE'S... DEATH?
lazy april x: OPEN YOUR PRESENT!
DamageGirl981: LOL
lazy april x: so death COULD climb out of a cake.
lazy april x: or jump?
DamageGirl981: TADA! xxconfettixx
amityville_sweetheart: (Stretch)
Sometimes in the middle of the night is when it's the hardest.

She'll be dead asleep and then something-- something-- she never knows what it is that wakes her and makes her crave.

She does the only thing she knows how to do. After a while it's routine and her brain is somewhere else. She can organize everything in a way that makes sense. The past two years have been hard to swallow. She's managing better than ever, but sometimes in the middle of the night it grabs her. Like cold hands. And then it shakes her and shakes her, and all her thoughts about it flush around like glitter in a snowglobe. Learning to put your head on right doesn't make that any easier.

She had this crazy thought back when she was still Stupid that maybe she'd feel better if she watched Caleb suffer a little bit instead of being an arrogant ass. She had another crazy idea that ignoring her problems would make them magically disappear. She had another even crazier idea that she'd never be happy because she hadn't much earned it, and since it was already a done deed why risk your neck for Joe Schmo over there?

A lot of really, really stupid ideas. Sometimes it just takes her a moment to remember that again.

mic on

Oct. 21st, 2006 12:25 am
amityville_sweetheart: (Pink Shoes)
I just need to rant at myself a little and this is the best right now, so… I guess, first of all, I finally get it.

Stuff happens— SSDD, right?-- and it just… it never goes where I’m looking, and sometimes it hits me when I’m not looking at all, but I think now it’s not so bad.

The house is gone. There’s a new team forming, Sand’s going to be leading, and Caleb and I had a long talk we needed to have for a while. I know I’m not angry right now, but I guess the best word would be ‘heart sick’. There’s been so much in the past, and everything that just happened and I’m a little dizzy from all of it.

I’m glad we can laugh together again. We don’t hate each other and we know the whole thing was just a screwed up mess. However, that means admitting an entire relationship was just a wound with more salt constantly poured in it. And by the end, you have to amputate and you’ll never, ever get that back. It’s gone. It’ll be okay, but it won’t ever be the same.

My bright side in this whole thing, honestly?

My boyfriend isn’t dead and the house is gone. That one was a little harder to chew, not that it was gone but more the fact that I don’t have to freakin’ worry about it terrorizing me anymore. Caleb thinks we can put it back together, and, I dunno, maybe it’s a good idea. I don’t know how much confidence I have in the bad mojo not just coming back, if we can do it, or even just getting rid of all that crap. What the hell, right? The house is already down, there’s not much more ‘blowing up’ I could do.

I’ve cut the final ties with my family, my house is gone, the snipes are gone with the ex but I get a trade in with cold, hard reality, Enchantress wants Sand and I both dead so I may get to look forward to more pleasant visits again…

And the most on my brain is how I really miss my CD collection right now, because swing or maybe tango sounds nice. ‘Napster’s a pain in my ass’ is at the forefront of my mind. I figure resigned apathy with a healthy dose of ‘It could be worse’ is a good start.

Time to go beat Napster and get my groove on. What is will stay, what will be is unpredictable, and what was is done.

OOC.

Sep. 15th, 2006 09:04 pm
amityville_sweetheart: (Mun OOC)
You will probably not see much of me tonight, tomorrow or sunday.

The bunny I've had nearly a decade dropped dead tonight, and I wasn't even at home to see it. I get to look forward to explaining "bunny-bun"s death to my toddler before the weekend is up.

So I'm going to go get drunk and I will see all of you wonderful people when I'm not tempted to thunk my head against a wall.
amityville_sweetheart: (Mage of God Sword)
Someone's trying to kill me again.

I'm bored and I'm tired and I'm a little angry although right now I'm not sure who or what to be angry at. Staring at the TV or the computer is about the only competant thing I can do right now with the blinking.

'Blinking?' you say curiosly. Yes, blinking, I respond. Much more inventive than previous attempts, but I definitely have to come out in favor of a usefully placed single bullet instead.

I don't even know enough about my magic, or its apparent 'history', to even be much use in my own saving. I know that when the magic went away, so did I. But the magic is still there and I'm just... occasionally not. Sand and Trevor have gone back to the city to bash in a few heads to get some answers, Tara's trying to rouse some mages or at least some answers, and the telepath now sitting in my living room has done what he can to get as many answers out of me as there are.

Whatever's going on with me is apparently tied to the house. Or a side-effect. Or just another effect. I don't know. Maybe I should've burned this friggin' place to the ground when I had the chance. The cats feel it, too... they've been sticking by me. Thus far, Trevor's gotten hit in the face with a door but that isn't drawers emptying, furniture on the ceiling, blood from the drains full-scale like it was before mama was forced out.

Sand's being... strong. Brave. Like always. It's that duty-man thing that I could just never get by. I know he'll come back with something. I know this will be okay. We sat on the couch this morning. In silence. I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to hear anything, and that was exactly it. It's grounded me.

And when I find out who's been screwing with me, I'm going to kick their frickin' kneecaps into their teeth.

OOC.

Aug. 24th, 2006 08:42 pm
amityville_sweetheart: (OOC Hat)
Whoa.

My girl Alicja has hopped her way into a US film. And it's got Kevin Kline in it.

I can not adequately describe how happy I am about this. MORE ICONS!

Also? I'm beginning to eye my characters a little funny.

Alicja as a dark brunette.
Keira as a blonde.

...Not much different. Kinda scary.
amityville_sweetheart: (Nightmare Sleeping)
Here and now, there is fitful sleep. Very boring.

December eighth, two-thousand and five is quite the opposite.

Four days ago, Corrine Bertrand's boyfriend killed a vampire. Brutally. Now so far removed from the incident, she can't help but think that maybe the whole thing wasn't so bad. After all, vampires are minions of evil, right? Does it really matter if they're tortured a smeensy before their imminent doom? And even if it did matter, who on earth would it matter to?

And to complicate matters more, she really couldn't take that stance. If all accounts were to be listened to, Corrine's beloved father was a tyrannical, cold, homicidal psychopath with a disgusting love of power and dark arts. There was a great possibility that her father even sent a demon to kill her.

Possibility?

'The only difference between fiction and fact is something you can put your hands on', her brother Louis was fond of saying. So to Corrine, it was at best only a theory, yet to be proven or disproven. Enough to maim the memory of her papa, but not enough to wound her mortally.

And, beyond that... she still missed her father more than anything in the world. Sometimes she could find him on the battlefield, promising her success in all things if she only wanted it bad enough.  Sometimes she could find him at the bottom of a bottle, his blue eyes faded and restless and tired, torn between desire and obligation. Sometimes she could find him in Caleb's eyes, not the color or the correct shape, but something about the message inside of them... a longing for more than your worth, a fiery intellect, several guarded thoughts before careful words.

The last factor, not the least to be ignored; the demon she shared a bed with most nights of the week. Caleb. And if it was to be believed, Corrine herself was a holy vessel. Oh, it wasn't all like that, although she was sure several individuals probably thought she was kidding herself. But she was the very last person to ask about evil and good. If you asked her, it was a football field's length of gray, with two inches to each side, one for good and one for evil.

No one was asking her, though, and thank kittens for that. Caleb has no real family, few friends, and there's always so much going on at the JSA, it's been easy to keep him under watch. Evil? Not her call to make. But he's definitely crazy. Not the crazy she was used to with him, either, but a stark-raving, paranoid, talking-to-himself absolute nutbar.

Corrine lifts her head from under the blanket, staring blearily out her bedroom window. It's still snowing.

That last thought and the silence is actually what rouses her from half-sleep. It's the first multi-hour sleep she's had in a day or two, and she hadn't even noticed the lack of Caleb's presence beside her.

The Shining does Metropolis, she thinks bitterly as she pulls herself from bed.

There's no sounds of distress, and the cats are curled up on Caleb's side of the bed quietly. No ruckus of Caleb going crazy. Perhaps he passed out from exhaustion finally? Did he wander outside? Maybe he just went home. Which one, though? Oh, there was no use getting herself bent out of shape before she searched the apartment.

For all she knew, and she hoped this was the truth, he could be asleep on the couch. Finally.
amityville_sweetheart: (Mun OOC)
I now have 102 icons for Corrine, and originally only had 32. So now of course I have to fill that empty space. Here's what I did yesterday and today. Icons! )

Hooboy.

Mar. 17th, 2006 12:46 am
amityville_sweetheart: (Glam)
It's been a while since I've even had time to do this. I can happily say recently it's the same-old same-old of real life dragging me down, but remarkably little whacky crap has gone on as of late.

I'm trying to learn to kick back and relax a little. It's almost been a year since all this first started and I'm just... standing back in awe. It all blurs together at this point and I'm not really sure what to think about any of it. I'm not sure I have feelings on it either way anymore. The shock that I never really felt going in is hitting me on the way out, like it finally dawned on me the gravity of everything in my life last year.

Sand's been an immeasurable amount of support. I'm constantly amazed at the patience displayed, and the sheer amount of kindness. And it's nice to have someone who understands my faith, who supports it and strengthens it when I need it. That by itself has been enough, but-- okay, babbling. Will stop babbling. Right.

There's always the meetings, too. Joy of my life. I think I'd give the meetings more gratitude than present if I didn't leave there hating myself more than when I went in. And I don't think it has anything to do with the doc, or any of the other members. Honestly, I can't tell them a lot about why I drink... drank.

I can't tell them crazy stories about demons or the Justice Society. I can't even tell them my boyfriend had a psychotic fit and tried to kill me, because then just to be fair I'd have to add that it wasn't entirely his fault. How the hell do you explain that? You can't, really.

I think maybe a few people recognize my face, from everything that got smeared on the news. It was more of a local thing, and stuff goes boom in Metropolis from time to time. My fifteen minutes of not-quite-fame generally went unnoticed, for which I'm thankful.

I'm still slowly sorting out legal troubles. I take it a step at a time, and take every moment possible to thank God I'm not rotting in jail right now. Or dead, yet. It's all really simple right now. No Caleb. No Trevor. No JSA, for the most part. No Angie or Louis or bottle. Just the kitties and Sand and massive renovations on the house. I work with my hands all day, I laze around at night with a guy I'm absolutely silly about and my two fuzzy ones. Simple is good right now.
amityville_sweetheart: (Cry)
Warning: Very nasty stuff. Not for the weak of heart. The pup kicked me out of a sound sleep for this, and it's not pretty. You've been warned.

Corrine darts up the stairs to the second-level apartment, clutching the bags to her chest as she makes it in the front door and slams it behind her. "Cops are everywhere, Greg..." she mutters, making her way through the one-bedroom apartment to the kitchenette area.

She drops the bags onto the table, turning towards her boyfriend's back and the television. "Greg? Greg?" She approaches, putting a hand on his shoulder. He moans and slouches a bit, before sitting up to acknowledge her presence.

There's the stench of rum on him, and the box is sitting on the table, open. He's been hitting the angel dust again, but she doesn't know how long ago.

The whiskey isn't working anymore )
amityville_sweetheart: (Dance)
I went icon crazy.

The paid account I will be getting next week will give me 100 icons... and I'm already on my way to half. Yeah, I know. I can stop anytime I want and I don't need no steenkin' meetings.

Winners never quit and all that. ;) I have a crapload for Roy stacked up, and Trevor, and Caleb, and some other random people who I LURVE. *coughs* I can stop really.

Pretty pictures OMG! )
amityville_sweetheart: (Default)
The red, green and yellow glow of the stop lights glare against the blacktop of the road. Paired with the other lights of the city, everything has a flourescent flush to it this night. There are people out on the streets, some sitting out on their steps conversing, others enjoying a feignly veiled bottle of alcohol, yet more people smoking. At the end of a block, two teenage girls are dancing to the sounds of an iPod hooked into stereo speakers sitting on the top step.

Corrine smiles at them and they smile back, and she does a little hop-skip as she passes them, momentarily letting her feet get away from her. Dancing comes so naturally to her, it's almost going against instinct to not dance along when she hears music. Beside her, Caleb smiles, raising a brow quizzically. "You're very... whimsical, I believe the word would be," he comments, pausing at the corner as he waits for the light to change. "It reminds me of my sister."

In Dreams... )
amityville_sweetheart: (Default)
Corrine's picked up the phone to call him four times in the past hour. She doesn't want to be alone. Kelly is already in bed, already asleep, so she's not really alone, but... damnit. This house is too big and there's too many bad things soaked into the walls and she can't get away from it.

She'd been doing so good, really, but she was too lonely and it was cold outside and there was nothing on TV and she was alone. She didn't want to be alone. She'd cried in bed and tried to sleep, and it'd been useless because she kept thinking of him and how much she wanted him there in bed next to her. Just so she could sleep. Just for a little while. Just until she adjusted to this. She was allowed 'adjustment' time, right? Not together anymore but still kind of together, just until... until... when? Tomorrow? Next week?

This was the right thing to do. It was good for them. She kept telling herself that.

It wasn't really that she needed Caleb specifically, but anyone here with her right now would be good. She was putting on her brave face as always but right now it felt like the ceiling of the world was coming down on her head. So she'd done what she always did, and she hated herself now.

This was it, though. Really. Just one last, as she empties the shot glass. She really needed sleep. If she could just sleep, she'd be okay. Just a little more to sleep. It was too late to go anywhere and she didn't want to leave Kelly alone so it wasn't even like she could run to the store and buy a little box of those sleep aid things. So just one more. One more, and then sleep. It'd be okay. It was just for sleep.

Corrine picks up the phone again, staring at the receiver through blurred vision. In her peripheral, the bottle is almost empty. She starts dialing, and stops halfway through. She puts the phone down and stares at it.

Just one more. For sleep.
amityville_sweetheart: (Park)
Fair warning: very, very nasty stuff. It made me twitch to write it, but my brain wasn't going to let me sleep without writing it up. Also? This thing turned into a short fic somewhere along the way. Dunno how.

The house isn't as she left it. Corrine knows this much as she pulls up the driveway, stained with dark, frozen puddles in the early morning light. She's missed the way the sun comes up from the east and shines right into the windows of the house, illuminating the front yard in a breathtaking light.

Something's different today, though. She can see shadows moving inside the windows against the rays of sunlight. The axe isn't hanging in the barn where she always leaves it, it's in the ground next to the wood pile. There seems to be something in the yard, something black and moving around in the back corner closest to the barn. The back screen door is hanging open, there's glass on the roof of the porch, the curtains blowing inwards from the broken window.

She brings the car to a stop, climbing out slowly and examining the house. She leaves her bag on the passenger seat, the keys in the ignition and the driver's side door open. Caleb had once said during one of their training sessions, "In every situation, there are two options. Fight or flight. There are no others."

Inside Alice's Wonderland... )
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