schizoauthoress_library | Entries tagged with format: multipart

Title: Apostate
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: Teen
Spoilers: none
Warnings: allusions to a cult, emotional manipulation
Prompt/Fill: longstanding headcanon connecting Irwin R. Schyster and Bray Wyatt in kayfabe because they’re for-real father and son
Word Count: 583
Note: I had to curb my initial instinct to get really flowery with the prose. I hope the pared-down version works.

Summary: Irwin R. Schyster has been looking for something for years. He teamed up with Ted Dibiase in order to fund that search. And now he’s closer than he’s ever been, face to face with a nightmare from his past.

Apostate

“What are you doing?”

Irwin grinned, humorless and vicious, at the sound of that voice. The cultist in his grasp, whimpering and cringing, meant nothing now. He let the man drop, and turned around.

“Gamesmaster,” Irwin said, and with no more greeting or preamble than that, “I want my son.”

Kevin Sullivan stared at Irwin for a moment, seemingly unaffected by the brawling that went on around them. Familiar lines of confusion crinkled up between his brows, as his dark eyes studied his one-time disciple.

Irwin stared back, despite everything inside him screaming that he was a filthy traitor with absolutely no right to meet the Gamesmaster’s eyes.

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[Yes, I only just realized that I used to spell his name "Alonzo" in the previous fics and I changed it to "Alonso" in this batch. Oops, fuck, my bad.]

Title: but if this is the last time we ever see the daylight
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: R
Spoilers: none, pre-canon
Warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, strong language, outlaw motorcycle gang
Prompt/Fill: from this list How Does Your Muse Feel/React When...
Word Count: 931
Summary: Alonso Vescovi doesn't like to show vulnerability. But he has his moments.
Note: An anonymous person sent me a few more emoji-prompts, specifically requesting Alonso, and I couldn't resist. It's been so long since I was able to write that I just rolled with it. :)

part one here

but if this is the last time we ever see the daylight

"When they are given praise..."

Alonso shook out his right hand, trying to get his breathing under control. The knuckles stung like crazy, were probably split open. He’d known from the first punch to the guy’s face that he’d hit teeth, but once he’d started, it’d been hard to stop.

Vincent had taken over, giving the snitch one more chance to come clean. Alonso couldn’t focus on what they were saying. He was furious with himself – he knew it was stupid to take a betrayal so personally, so much so that he’d lost control.

And Cash was watching. Alonso hated Cash, because Cash was everything he’d never been. Cash was a soldier, when Alonso hadn’t made it out of boot camp. Cash was one of those calm, un-fucking-flappable bastards who always made Alonso feel savage and stupid in comparison.

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Title: i got a feeling we're gonna be all right
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none, pre-canon
Warnings: strong language, references to organized crime
Prompt/Fill: from this list How Does Your Muse Feel/React When...
Word Count: 144
Summary: Alonso Vescovi can be a reactionary fellow. But he has his reasons.
Note: I'm not including the section headings (the prompts) in the word count here.

i got a feeling we're gonna be all right

"When they hear someone knock on their door..."

The front door reverberated with three heavy knocks. Alonso froze, eyes darting to Deacon and Cash in turn.

“You expecting someone?” Cash drawled, expression still placid.

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part two here

Title: Deeds Not Words II
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: R
Spoilers: none due to canon divergence
Warnings: strong language, soulmate AU
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 1755
Summary: Now it's Heath's turn to get angry. At least they get to write back and forth for a little while, this time.

Note: I am vaguely trying to follow the timeline, but I don't know if Heath's time with FCW lines up with Drew's time in the UK wrestling scene quite like I presented in the first part. Regardless, he's in the Eastern timezone and Drew has been in the Greenwich Mean Time timezone and neither doofus put that together yet.
Note 2: Big thank you to snarkandsarcasmwrites for encouraging me to continue this story, and for Drew's intial message in this chapter.

Word of the Day: concatenate,
verb: To link together; unite in a series or chain.
adjective: Linked together, as in a chain.

Deeds Not Words II

Heath watched as the words traded between him and his soulmate faded, no doubt washed away. No new words had appeared before this, and while Heath was glad to see the insults and accusations go, the continued silence made a knot of worry twist tight in his gut.

'You deserve this,' Heath told himself, wincing as the skin on the inside of his wrist went red with the force of the scrubbing his soulmate subjected it to, 'you hurt them. Damned fool, so willfully blind...'

He rolled the barrel of the pen between his fingers and thumb, trying to summon up the courage to write something. He bit his lip, and transferred the writing instrument to his left hand. The letters formed slowly, shakily into two words:

"I'M SORRY"

The ink smeared and faded almost instantly, scrubbed away like the rest of it, so quickly that Heath wasn't sure the message had even been read.

He dropped the pen and wrapped his arms around himself, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tried to will himself out of crying. He hadn't cried in years, and he didn't want to start now. "You deserve this," he whispered thickly, "you don't deserve a soulmate."

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Title: Deeds Not Words
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: R
Spoilers: none due to canon divergence
Warnings: strong language, soulmate AU
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 2500
Note: Title from The Templars song "Make Your Mark"

Summary: From the age of fifteen on, any marks made on your skin also appear on your soulmate's skin. This ranges from idle doodles in pen or marker ink to bruises or wounds (though you may be more seriously injured, your soulmate's corresponding mark will only be skin deep).
For five years, Drew Galloway has gotten some smudges and at least one instance of mathematical formulae, but no real messages from his soulmate. And he's been hesitant to write anything himself. Imagine his surprise, then, when he wakes up one morning with a truly hideous tribal sun tattoo on his right shoulder.

Deeds Not Words

"I think I should get love inked on my skin. Maybe that's the only way I am destined to keep it."
-- Anjum Choudhary

The day that Drew Galloway turned fifteen years old was a pleasantly sunny day. He woke up because of the sunlight streaming through his curtains, remembered that it was indeed his birthday, and went rummaging into his bookbag immediately. This was a very important birthday, after all -- the first one where he had a chance to 'talk' to his soulmate, and he was excited to see if his soulmate would write back.

However, when he found the black ballpoint pen he was looking for, Drew hesitated. There was always a chance that he was older than his soulmate -- that whoever it was hadn't yet turned fifteen themself, and thus wouldn't see anything he wrote today. More distressing was the idea that he had no soulmate -- that he was a Blank, and no one would ever write back to him, because no one else's skin would reflect the marks made on his.

Drew bit his lip and nervously clicked the button on top of the pen a few times. He and his school friends had talked a lot about what they'd write to their soulmates, amid the usual speculation of what each soulmate would be like. For the life of him, Drew couldn't remember what he'd settled on.

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Title: Blood Ties, Part One
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: eventual R
Spoilers: none really, set before Edge's 1998 debut with WWF
Warnings: vampires, blood, strong language
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 4458
Summary: The grin was back on the Vampire Warrior's face. "And you two... you're the rarest kind of weird. Not only do you want to be turned, but you might actually make decent vampires."

Note: According to the 15-June-2018 episode of "E&C's Pod of Awesomeness", where they speak to Dave Heath, WWF Creative didn't come up with a backstory for the Brood -- or anything regarding the relationships between the characters (except that Edge and Christian were brothers). I can't contradict canon when there is none!

Blood Ties, Part One

"We're not getting anywhere this way," Jason complained. He kicked at a half-crushed aluminum soda can on the ground. It skittered along the pavement and bounced off the curb into the gutter.

"Do you want to give up?" Adam demanded, "Is that what you're trying to say?"

Jason glared. "Yeah right. I go home, your stubborn ass keeps trekking around dark corners, and you eventually come back all fangy and smug. We started this together, and we're sticking together. I just think our current plan needs a little revising."

"What's your big idea, if you're so smart?"

Jason stopped walking, put his back to the pole of the nearest streetlamp, and stuck his hands in his pockets. His voice went softer. "We went around to a bunch of different wrestling promotions, and we didn't get anywhere close to the Vampire Warrior. We've been trying to find him in these vampire hangouts, but it seems pretty damn obvious he's not into this scene. Maybe he knows we're looking for him. Maybe he thinks we're desperate weirdos and he's avoiding us."

"That's a lot of maybe, Jay," Adam said sharply.

"There's been a couple vampires who seem interested in turning us! Those women last week? That big guy who saved us from those hellhounds?"

Adam shouted, "No! We are not--!" He made an inarticulate sound of rage and aimed a kick at a nearby trash can. "We are not fucking settling for the first couple bloodsuckers who bat their damn eyes at us!"

"I'm not saying that!" Jason snapped. "But we could offer some blood. It's probably gone around that we're interested in becoming vampires. We should actually show it?"

"It has to be the Vampire Warrior who turns us!" Adam looked for a moment like he wanted to start throwing hands. Jason met Adam's wide-eyed stare, but didn't move. Adam took a deep breath and realized he was shaking. He insisted, "It has to be."

"I know," Jason replied, deliberately calm. "I read all the same occult books you did, Adam."

Laughter. The sound bounced off the close-set buildings around them, and neither young man could tell where it was coming from. Despite, or perhaps because of, their experiences with the supernatural side of life, both of them were afraid.

"Now I've got to know," the unfamiliar voice of a man said, also seeming to come from multiple directions, "just what those books say..."

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I'm back-dating this entry and counting it in May for my Personal Goal 2018, because I would have worked on and posted it yesterday if I hadn't had a migraine.

Title: Dormant
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: for the end of Jake the Snake's WWF career ('96, early '97)
Warnings: metaphysical blather
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 362
Note: Part of the "kayfabe AU" where the Undertaker is a psychopomp like the lore says. If the Undertaker claims to be "the most feared entity" then there ought to be others.
Summary: The entities of the World Wrestling Federation subsist on belief. What happens when the fans lose faith?

Dormant
Part One

The entities of the World Wrestling Federation subsist on belief. As long as even part of their audience of mortals believes in the sincerity of their vessels, the wrestlers who clash in the squared circle, the entities are strong.

For now, the Serpent slumbers, weakened by worse than disbelief.

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Title: Shades of Night, Part 3
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none in this part
Warnings: mild language, mysticism
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 600
Summary: Sting gets cornered.

Part 1 here
Part 2 here

Shades of Night, Part 3

"Is that another painting?" Sting inquired, indicating a large, rectangular shape on the wall, hidden by a cloth similar to the burgundy draperies. The presenter smiled, shaking her head.

"No sir -- that's a flatscreen TV. There are several here."

"Ah. It's just that this artist is so talented..."

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Title: Win!
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none, vague timeframe
Warnings: creepy imagery, reference to the drug trade, mild language (thanks Eddie)
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 403
Summary: Eddie buys them some breathing room to handle the Phantasm.

Word of the Day: gambit, noun:
1. A remark made to open or redirect a conversation.
2. Chess. An opening in which a player seeks to obtain some advantage by sacrificing a pawn or piece.
3. Any maneuver by which one seeks to gain an advantage.

Part One (Run!) here
Part Two (Spill!) here

Win!

Eddie ran another manual check on the containment field, grinned, and activated the protocol for automatic status checks every fifteen minutes. It was holding. He thrust both fists into the air and demanded, "Who -- is -- the man?"

Jason raised an eyebrow and (because he was clearly expected to) asked, "Is it you?"

Eddie whirled on Jason, pointed at him, and declared, "You're damn right it's me! Who cooked up an ectoplasmic containment field on the fly? Me! Who figured out how to account for the variables in a semi-living gestalt entity and stopped it from overriding the field? Me!"

"Who's talking in terminology I can't follow again?" Jason wondered, then answered himself, "You."

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Title: Shades of Night, Part 2
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none in this part
Warnings: mild language, mysticism, mentions of trafficking
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 1100
Summary: Sting goes in after the lost soul on his own.

Note: This got a lot longer than I anticipated. But I'm cool with that, heh.
Part 1 here

Shades of Night, Part 2

Rain blurred his vision, and shadow blurred the ground beneath his feet, yet Sting ran on. He'd experienced the vagaries of this place between on many hunts to bring lost souls to justice. He would go where he needed to be.

Rain poured down when and where they returned to normal time, too, a cold and stinging drencher.

The lost soul was nearby, probably whispering wickedness into the mind of some vulnerable living person. If it had the strength, it might be inside that person, trying to seize control.

It would not be watching for pursuit, not at this moment.

****

Undertaker stepped forward so that he was beside Sting. "We'll need more eyes than yours, I think."

"Ah, urban sprawl," Sting sighed. He lifted an arm -- shortly after, a crow landed on it. He nudged at the creature gently, mind to mind, impressing upon it identifying characteristics of their prey that would catch a corvid's attention. The crow gave a croaking caw and took flight.

That same noise was picked up by the flock the crow returned to, and they all took wing and dispersed.

"They never fear you."

"Sometimes they do. I don't force those to help." Sting said.

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Part 3 here

Title: Disclosure
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none (occurs between Season 14 and Season 16)
Warnings: eh, just kissing
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 1411
Summary: Thad has something to get off his chest.
Note: Part of "Scenes from a Married Life", follows the 'King of Clubs' chapter chronologically
Word of the Day: fob, noun:
1. A short chain, usually with a medallion or similar ornament, worn hanging from a pocket.
~~2. A small pocket just below the waistline in trousers for a watch, keys, change, etc.~~

Disclosure

With the demands of Thad's job, and Julio juggling work and schoool, late night phone calls became their primary contact with each other -- especially during the week. It wasn't so bad. The two of them could talk for hours at a time -- Thad helping out with Julio's more business oriented classes; Julio assisting with Spanish translations if Thad came across some obscure phrasing; and both of them sharing stories about the past or the present.

It wasn't fun to deal with the effects of sleep deprivation the next day, but -- Julio reflected between sips of his morning coffee concoction (strengthened with multiple espresso shots) one day -- it was worth it. Thad made him happy, whether it was listening to tales of a past fashion disaster Thad had found so cool at the time, or talking about more serious topics of social justice. The more he knew about Thad, the more he liked.

Julio's cell phone buzzed, and he fished it out of his pants pocket.

'Tomorrow I dont stay after usual shift' read Thad's latest text message, 'Can bring dinner 2 ur place?'

Julio smiled, setting aside his paper coffee cup so he could quickly text back: 'Depends. What's on the menu?'

In the time it took Julio to retrieve his cup and take another drink of coffee, his phone buzzed again. Thad's reply read: 'Anything u want'

Julio tapped out, 'How long has it been since you had a Cubano?'

Almost immediately, a response from Thad appeared, and Julio had to laugh. All it said was '???'.

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Title: Shades of Night, Part 1
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: you'll recognize the scenario set forth in the 2.21.11 promos from RAW
Warnings: mild language, mysticism, crossover
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 800
Summary: He has laid claim to the title 'Chaser of Souls', but he's not the only one.

Note: If I've understood my research properly, both wrestlers were actually out of action for the last months of 2010 and the first months of 2011. Woo, reality subtext!

Shades of Night, Part 1

"Death and the dice level all distinctions."
-- Samuel Foote

He started driving in the California desert, but soon crossed a boundary far stranger than a state line. This desert was endless and outside of time. He drove on, unconcerned, knowing that he would arrive at his destination at the right time and no sooner.

Harsh day shifted to cool night, for no reason other than his comfort, or perhaps that of his waiting host. He laughed quietly to himself.

"The only thing that's for sure is that nothing's for sure."

Thunder growled in the distance, as if in reply, and rain poured down from the sky. He drove on.

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Part Two here

Title: Assurance
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: AU set after "Flaming Moe" (Season 22, Episode 11)
Warnings: Moe/Shaun pairing; sex talk, but no action
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 100
Summary: Talking to your new sex partner is important
Note: a sequel to my previous drabble chain, Reaction

Assurance

"You don't have to be so nervous," Shaun said. "I assumed you'd top the first time anyway."

"I'm nervous because I don't even know what you like. Sexwise." Moe tried to keep his annoyance from showing overmuch. "I don't wanna just... roll you over and stick it in."

Shaun grinned. "I dunno, I wouldn't mind trying that out."

"Please don't laugh," Moe begged (and hated himself for the desperation). "I'm scared I'll ruin this. Drive you off."

Seriously, Shaun said, "You won't, trust me." He kissed Moe, soft and gentle. "I'm new to you, but you're new to me, too."

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Title: Denatured
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "Galaxy Quest" (movie, not in-universe show)
Warnings: unwilling transformation, body dysphoria
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 936
Summary: The Thermians were expecting to beam up five humans and one Mak'Tar... and that's how they set the transporter. Alexander isn't sure he can cope with the results.
Note: I've been talking myself out of this for years... but the plotbunny is persistent.

Word of the Day: histrionics, noun:
1. Behavior or speech for effect, as insincere or exaggerated expression of an emotion.
2. Dramatic representation; theatricals; acting.

Denatured

He doesn't realize right away that he's been changed. So much is happening all at once -- Alexander doesn't spare thought for his body beyond 'I'm still in one piece'.

Advanced alien life is real, interstellar space travel is real, and these revelations take all his attention. Also, the fact that these aliens believe he and his castmates truly are the space-faring characters of the N.S.E.A. Protector is a continuing problem and challenge. Alexander is kept busy.

The foam rubber prosthetic he wears when acting as Dr. Lazarus has always gotten uncomfortably hot after extended wear. (His pride won't let him admit it, but the physical discomfort is a contributing factor to how sour he gets during long convention appearances.) This time, despite all the action and discomfort of an actual mission aboard a real starship, it does not make him itch or sweat as usual.

Alexander doesn't notice.

It's not until he tries to remove it -- during a moment of privacy in his quarters, in the ridiculously complex bathroom the Thermians think he requires -- that Alexander begins to even suspect something is different. There is no seam. With dawning horror, Alexander finally becomes aware that was he'd assumed was merely his usual costuming is no such thing.

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Title: Furtherance
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: set during "Flaming Moe" (Season 22, Episode 11), references Simpsons Comics #151 (2009)
Warnings: canon divergence is go, brief mention of kink
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 2904
Summary: Moe says yes to the "Gay Day at Krustyland" date.
Word of the Day: germinal, adjective:
1. Being in the earliest stage of development.
2. Of or pertaining to a germ or germs.
3. Of the nature of a germ or germ cell.

Furtherance

"It's so nice to get out of the house for once," Marge commented. Homer pulled out one of the chairs at the table for her, and she sat across from Moe. "The kids all have somewhere else to be tonight, even Maggie. Selma is taking Ling to a Berrystained Bears show and invited Maggie along."

"You sure your sister can handle a pair of young kids by herself?" Moe asked.

"Hey, she's gotten a lot better since that time she took Bart and Lisa to Duff Gardens," Homer pointed out.

"I'd be worried if she'd gotten WORSE," Moe muttered, "because I didn't think that was possible."

"Hey, Moe?" Shaun spoke up from behind Moe. Moe turned, a little surprised to see Shaun off his usual bar stool. Shaun shuffled his feet for a moment, then asked hurriedly, "Tomorrow's Gay Day at Krustyland, wanna come?"

"Oh, Grizzly Shaun!" Moe exclaimed, smiling. "That's so nice of you to think of me. I gotta check my schedule. Can I get back to you?"

"Oh. Sure." Shaun had hoped Moe would accept, but the rejection was no surprise. He turned to go.

"Shaun?" Moe said, "I need your number."

Shaun stopped, and glanced back over his shoulder. "Huh?"

"To call you back," Moe explained patiently. "I'm bad at remembering things and my planner is at home."

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Title: A Night Out?
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none (occurs sometime between Season 16 and Season 20)
Warnings: mild sexual innuendo
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 416
Summary: Thad and Julio are mutually distracting.

Note: Part of "Scenes from a Married Life", jumping forward from the last chapter. (Honestly it's shorter than the piece that comes next chronologically and I'm trying to churn out ficlets before my trip.)

A Night Out?

Julio took note of the fact that Thad had entered the room, rubbing a towel against his head, but didn't look away from flicking through the many hangers in the closet. Thad went digging through the dresser drawers.

"You sure do have a lot of crop tops," Thad commented with obvious amusement.

Julio glanced at his mostly unclothed husband, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. Thad had stopped getting dressed and was watching Julio pick out an outfit. Julio asked, "Is that a criticism, baby?"

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Title: Remembrancer
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: AU set during "Flaming Moe" (Season 22, Episode 11)
Warnings: alcoholism, animal death and animal harm (minor to the plot, but present)
Prompt/Fill: "things you said that i wish you hadnt" from this tumblr prompt post (link goes to my friend's blog because OP deactivated)
Word Count: 2467
Summary: Someone from Larry's past finds him in the bar. Larry doesn't cope. Moe is used to Larry not coping.
Word of the Day: buttress, verb:
1. To give encouragement or support to (a person, plan, etc.).
2. To support by a buttress; prop up.

Part One - Advice
Part Two - Confidant
Part Three - Conciliate

Remembrancer

It wasn't common to see women in Mo's -- most of the sapphic women in Springfield preferred SheShe or One Night Stan's -- but neither was it unheard of. So the pretty young blonde woman just walking in the door was barely remarked on.

She looked around the bar, smiling, and seemed impressed by the decor and cleanliness. And then, to the consternation of the regular patrons, she sat down across from Larry Vosger and said, "Nice night, ain't it?"

"'Scuse me, miss," Colin spoke up, from his spot at the bar, "That's Larry and he's not here to get hit on."

Moe looked up from the row of martinis he was mixing for table three, ready to shout the newcomer away from the 'don't hit on me' table. Instead, when he got a good look at her, Moe beamed and cried, "Hey there, angel-face!"

Larry was grinning too as the young woman laughed.

"Uncle Moe," she said, in a mock-scolding tone, "nobody's called me that for ages!"

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Title: Conciliate
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: AU set during "Flaming Moe" (Season 22, Episode 11)
Warnings: alcohol consumption, referenced adultery
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 1977
Summary: Moe -- mending bridges, matchmaking, and watching a match he wishes he could unmake.
Word of the Day: catholicon, noun: A universal remedy; panacea.

Part One - Advice
Part Two - Confidant

Conciliate

"Moammar," Larry said, "you really don't have to clean my toilet."

"Like I ain't seen worse at the bar?" Moe asked rhetorically. He pushed aside a mostly empty jug of hand soap and -- not so rhetorically -- demanded, "Don't you have ANYTHING for cleaning this place? Bleach, even!"

"Sam won't care, honestly."

Moe glared up at Larry. "YOU should care, Lernig. Living in squalor, like a pig... how do you expect to feel like a human being? I never did."

Larry snorted. "Cleaning the house is good for my mental health?"

"You'd be surprised how much it helps." Moe stood up, pressing both sets of knuckles to his lower back briefly, to loosen the tense muscles there. "You're less ashamed to have people over, for one thing. Unless your shame has completely atrophied?"

Larry winced, and retreated from the bathroom, shaking his head. He muttered, "...I'll get the bleach."

****

Most of Larry's apartment wasn't so bad. He didn't spend a lot of time cooking in the kitchen or lounging in the living room. But Moe deemed the bedroom a lost cause for now, and simply shut the door.

Moe wiped down counters and swept the floor -- things he did all the time at the tavern. Larry even dug the vacuum out of the hall closet and ran it around the living room carpet.

"All right," Larry said after, "NOW can I set up the beer cooler?"

Moe felt an irrational flash of jealousy at the mention of a cooler, but pushed it aside. He sniffed and said loftily, "If you insist."

Larry grinned. It always amused him when Moe put on those hoity-toity mannerisms, because they both knew it was really just an act. "You know I do."

Moe checked the time. "Sam will be here soon. Yeah, go ahead."

Larry headed to the kitchen, patting Moe on the shoulder as he passed. "It will be fine, Moammar. Sam still likes you. You'll see."

Moe stared after him for a moment, then groused, "Who the hell said you could keep being a know-it-all, Lernig?"

Larry's only response was a loud laugh.

****

Larry got up to answer the front door. He rolled his eyes at how nervously Moe regarded it after hearing the knocks. He didn't bother to reassure Moe again, knowing that -- coming from him -- it would do no good.

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Title: Confidant
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: set during "Flaming Moe" (Season 22, Episode 11), references "The Homer They Fall" (Season 8, Episode 3) and Simpsons Comics #151 (2009)
Warnings: alcohol consumption and alcoholism, depressed character
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 2005
Summary: Even when there are things Moe doesn't say, certain friends know that he's hurting.
Word of the Day: lily-livered, noun: Weak or lacking in courage; cowardly; pusillanimous.

Note: I've been obliquely referencing Moe's line from "Lisa Goes Gaga" -- 'Actually, I'm half monster, half Armenian. Pick your poison.' -- in my work and that's the only thing from the episode I'll ever take (mostly because it fits with my ideas about Moe's mother being Syrian-Armenian to explain the Szyslak siblings' names). Also, the comics spell Moe's full name as Mommar Sibelius Szyslak, but I go with 'Moammar' simply because I like it better.

Part One, "Advice", is here
Confidant

Waylon tapped Moe on the shoulder and said softly, "It's a quarter past. I know you need some time to mix up the last drink orders."

Moe nodded. "Cut the music," he instructed, even though they'd been doing this for a few weeks and Waylon knew the next step. Saying so was part of the routine.

Waylon nodded and fetched the remote for the entertainment system from its place, kept under the bar and out of reach of the customers. First, the small video screens went dark, and then the audio went silent as he pushed a few buttons.

"All right, folks, last call!" Moe called out. "You got fifteen minutes to order anything fancy from me, or for Mr. Smithers to pull you something from the taps!"

A few of the men checked their own watches. Some of the couples and groups who had formed over the evening started grabbing coats and finishing off what was in front of them. Some approached the bar, and some from the tables flagged down Waylon for a refill on their pitchers of beer.

This was a new thing for Moe. Before the renovation, if he adhered to the law at all he would simply kick people out of the bar at two-thirty in the morning. In those days, he usually only had three customers to deal with -- Barney Gumble, Sam Phelps, and Larry Vosger. He'd called a lot of cabs for those guys.

Also unlike before, Mo's would stay open for half an hour after last call, only closing its doors at three in the morning. Waylon was the one to suggest the change. It kept the customers happy, giving them time to figure out who was going home with who and who was driving, without hustling them out the door. Waylon and Moe still called the occasional cabs, because overindulgence still happened, but only one of the old regulars was ever taken home in them.

Moe caught sight of Larry, sitting at his table by the door -- and, oddly, both the pitcher and the glass in front of him were empty. He was just patiently waiting for Moe. Moe sighed.

"All right, Mr. Smithers," Moe said to his business partner, "you can knock off early. I gotta talk with Larry before cleanin' up, and you don't gotta stick around for that."

Waylon glanced toward Larry, then back at Moe, and raised an eyebrow. "If you're sure?" he said uncertainly.

"Yeah, 'course I'm sure."

( Read more... )

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Part Three - Conciliate

Title: Lost and Unknown
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: vague DCU timestamp, set after "Labyrinth" (1986)
Warnings: canon typical violence
Prompt/Fill: none
Word Count: 1482
Summary: Things start to come together. And the Goblin King checks up on his captive, who has been misbehaving.

Lost and Unknown

"You know, Dick, I really would have thought that you, of all people, would be sure never to come here again." Jason smiled, but it was nothing like the smile of the boy who had been left behind in this place. His eyes were wild, what might be, in a human, called mad -- but Dick knew in his bones that Jason wasn't human anymore. For a moment, Dick thought he saw pointed teeth in that smile.

"You know him!" Tim cried, "You know Jareth the Goblin King!"

"That's... that's not Jareth," was all Dick could manage to say.

Jason's laugh was full of mocking humor. "Oh, but you and I both know the question that Tim isn't quite asking, and we ALL know that he wants the answer." All the humor fled from Jason's face in a moment, and the mismatched eyes that stared down at Dick and Tim were eerily familiar for Dick -- familiar and just as inhuman as when they'd looked at him from another face. Jason barked out, "So tell him."

( Read more... )

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