Log in

Here's a meme of some sort. Basically, you take the word… - PTHS NANO [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

[Jul. 8th, 2009|07:54 pm]


[current mood |accomplished]
[current music |Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance]

Here's a meme of some sort. Basically, you take the word provided, and write ONE SENTENCE inspired by it. This was originally a fanfiction/shipping-related thing, but I figured I'd use it as some inspiration/prewriting for Moonlit Streets. I'll probably do this later with some other canons since it's so damn fun. I'd like to see what you guys can come up with, too.


Matt gathered me in his lanky arms as I tried to suppress my tears, and I wondered why I couldn’t have wanted him instead.


For an absurd moment, it felt like he would kiss me, but then he shoved his hand into my pocket and removed my wallet.


When I opened my eyes again, the metal table had vanished from underneath me, and I was lying on a bed of dead leaves.


The passion was doused when I felt his inch-long teeth crunch into my neck, and the blood began spilling onto the pillow.


When I entered his apartment, I was somewhat taken aback to see a tall brunette standing at the counter, peeling potatoes and smoking a cigarette.


I stared out through the small, dirty window, watching the rain fail to clean the bloodstained city.


“We’re not kids anymore,” Melanie explained, “you know, when you’re depressed, there comes a point where you go from chocolate bars to real bars.”


I had come here in search of adventure, or a real identity, or something, but it hit me that sex, blood, and booze never would have passed for true happiness back in California.


“Yeah, Mom, my classes are going great,” I said as I set my artistic theory textbook on fire. 


I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and wondered when my ears had become pointed and furry.


“His name’s Julian Reséndiz,” Matt informed me, “and it’s no use trying to avoid him.”


There was nothing romantic about the way he threw me down on his bed.


My vision was fading as I stumbled along behind him, and I barely noticed when he picked me up and carried me the rest of the way.


Ultimately, I decided that working as an “exotic dancer” was already borderline- might as well go all the way, pick up some extra cash.


I must have been crazy not to love it when he ran his fingers through my hair.


I hated him, I hated his guts, he was worth nothing to me, and in that moment, I wanted to kill her for touching her lips to his.


I wasn’t a spoiled little girl anymore; I wouldn’t cry over something stupid like this.


With the moon fading into light blue at the edge of the sky, I felt the change bubble through my veins and I set racing down the hill toward his apartment.


I sat on the front porch of the building, waiting for a breeze to blow through and offer some relief from the stale air (it never came.)


He stood beside me with a confounded expression, watching the airplane I was supposed to be on as it took off.


I had it all planned out so perfectly- college, music, tattoos- werewolves never entered the plan.


Between kisses, I sighed, knowing that poor Matt knew exactly what was going on through that thin wall.


I lifted my hand up into my frame of vision and saw the dried blood sticking my fingers together.


I was used to waking up with morning breath, not with the metallic taste of blood and bile in my mouth.


“You’re just never going to give up, are you, Matt,” I observed wistfully.


I couldn’t imagine Julian and Melanie lasting forever; then again, I couldn’t imagine Julian and anyone lasting forever.


I looked in the mirror with a clinical horror and watched it spurt out of my neck with each pulse of my heart.


I faded in and out of consciousness until the sweet sedative relief put me under.


I unzipped my backpack just the slightest bit and showed him the neck of my guitar, winking out at him.


The light pollution in the city blanked out each and every star, leaving the moon as the only spot of light on the eerie canvas of the night.


It really began when he stepped out the front door of his building and offered to let me spend the night.


I infused each kiss with my hatred, biting, drawing blood from his horrible, wonderful lips.


I thought I heard a sound like a growl coming from the alleyway, but I brushed it off and turned to continue walking.


For the first time, the weather in Riverland wasn’t boring rain or oppressive sun.


He extended his claws as he informed me that I wouldn’t be able to go home- it was just as well that I didn’t want to leave him.


Riverland was horrifying; why were all the surrounding towns so beautiful, with their quaint shops and sprawling green parks?


I rummaged through my purse and found that, apparently, he had also taken my cell phone... wonderful.


“Special discount,” I said, and I put one of the 20-dollar bills back into Matt’s hand.


Julian often had a predatory grin, but I wondered if I would ever really see him smile.


I hadn’t stopped to think about it before, but my friends from California probably wouldn’t last a day here.


I still felt the hot beams from his eyes following my back as we walked into the future.


There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and anywhere else, that would have been considered a good thing.


The sky had a vaguely greenish tint to it, like the apocalypse had come and gone.


“Hah! I don’t believe in that bullshit,” Julian said, crossing his arms and scowling.


The body before me was utterly dismembered, its entrails scattered across the pavement in a wide circle, and for a moment it was as if I wasn’t just in New Jersey anymore.


I opened the window, but somehow the room only seemed to become stuffier as the white-hot sunlight poured in.


Too easy. 


Changing felt natural, a pulse traveling through my body to the tips of my fingers that changed them into black, pointed claws.


A lock of long brown hair fell in front of his face as he stared me down, and I couldn’t help thinking that he was the most attractive person ever to accost me in an alleyway.


Being with him felt good, but not in a good way- a horrible way, a white-hot light that consumed my entire existence and left me watching stoically as the girl I once was flickered out.



[User Picture]From: serafina_zane
2009-07-09 12:27 am (UTC)
Win! I can't wait to try this meme myself. Gives a really interesting feel of the whole overarching story--I'm also definitely intrigued about this depressing, depressing tumor.

Favorites is a contest between chocolate and sky.
(But what kind of backpack can you fit a guitar in?)
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: myrrhcat
2009-07-09 12:28 am (UTC)
A special, special backpack.
(yeah, it did occur to me. It's not so much a backpack as a... bag. Whatever.)
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: serafina_zane
2009-07-09 12:30 am (UTC)
Eh, it's a hammerspace backpack or a guitar case with straps. Though that'd kind of be obvious what it contained.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: myrrhcat
2009-07-09 12:30 am (UTC)
It's neither. It's just a big bag. Raagh.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: serafina_zane
2009-07-09 12:32 am (UTC)
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)