Cecily Fic, Next to Last!
Dec. 14th, 2004 03:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stoney321I have really appreciated all of the "old timers" who have hung on with me through this, and am tickled by the new friends I have made. WHo would have ever thought people would have such interest in such an obscure character on Buffy? I think it's because none of us can believe someone would turn down our Spikey. Hell, even Harmony knew a good thing when she had it. On with the show! We left off with "Lords" *ahem* a leaping...
~~1880, December the Twenty-Fourth
I awoke with a sense of calm. I dressed quickly and made for the foyer and opened the front door myself (most of the staff has left at any rate) right as the next "delivery" was made. Heaven preserve us, the Irish have landed. I assume they won't stay much longer as Father and the actors, pardon me, Lords have drunk most of the spirits that were left. I don't even hear their great wailing pipes any longer, such is the state of my head.
I hate him. Oh, I hate him so. If I saw him I would pluck out every hair on his head, smash those ridiculous glasses into a thousand tiny pieces, and then choke him on his own paper filled with his bloody, buggery, hateful, horrid, stupid little words! Once he was dead, I would then proceed to rip his arms from his body and beat him about the head with his own limbs. I would drag his torso through the great heap of muck that was created in our back atrium, commission the dancers and thespians to leap about his body, smashing every bone into bits, then deposit the entire bloody mess at his mother's feet.
Oh, ho, the things I would do to her. To dare speak to me the way she did... To completely ignore the madness her son is causing... It is inexusable.
Things I Would Wish Upon an Old Crone's Head, by Cecily Navisham.
I wish for her to fall over clutching her chest in pain, no. no, I wish that she would break all of her limbs while tripping over her own stupid cat. That she lay in her own filth and putrescence for days with no one calling on her. That her mind would slowly crack watching her own life's blood seep from her many wounds and have the knowledge that not one person will care about her when she is gone. That even her own foolish son will not care for her. And I wish that it would HURT.
And all of this has upset me so much that the lovely color that normally brightens my complexion (I've ALWAYS been told I have the most delicate rose-petal skin) is gone. Surely he won't deviate from that damnable song and all will end on the morrow?
~~TBC~~
~~1880, December the Twenty-Fourth
I awoke with a sense of calm. I dressed quickly and made for the foyer and opened the front door myself (most of the staff has left at any rate) right as the next "delivery" was made. Heaven preserve us, the Irish have landed. I assume they won't stay much longer as Father and the actors, pardon me, Lords have drunk most of the spirits that were left. I don't even hear their great wailing pipes any longer, such is the state of my head.
I hate him. Oh, I hate him so. If I saw him I would pluck out every hair on his head, smash those ridiculous glasses into a thousand tiny pieces, and then choke him on his own paper filled with his bloody, buggery, hateful, horrid, stupid little words! Once he was dead, I would then proceed to rip his arms from his body and beat him about the head with his own limbs. I would drag his torso through the great heap of muck that was created in our back atrium, commission the dancers and thespians to leap about his body, smashing every bone into bits, then deposit the entire bloody mess at his mother's feet.
Oh, ho, the things I would do to her. To dare speak to me the way she did... To completely ignore the madness her son is causing... It is inexusable.
Things I Would Wish Upon an Old Crone's Head, by Cecily Navisham.
I wish for her to fall over clutching her chest in pain, no. no, I wish that she would break all of her limbs while tripping over her own stupid cat. That she lay in her own filth and putrescence for days with no one calling on her. That her mind would slowly crack watching her own life's blood seep from her many wounds and have the knowledge that not one person will care about her when she is gone. That even her own foolish son will not care for her. And I wish that it would HURT.
And all of this has upset me so much that the lovely color that normally brightens my complexion (I've ALWAYS been told I have the most delicate rose-petal skin) is gone. Surely he won't deviate from that damnable song and all will end on the morrow?
~~TBC~~
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Date: 2004-12-14 01:30 pm (UTC)rock on!
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Date: 2004-12-14 01:33 pm (UTC)I SHALL rock on. 10Q
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Date: 2004-12-14 01:56 pm (UTC)Snark!
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Date: 2004-12-14 02:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-14 02:00 pm (UTC)Dude! *cackles with glee*
I've ALWAYS been told I have the most delicate rose-petal skin
Allow me, please, to bash her about the cranium!
One more day? NO!!! *flails... gracefully*
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Date: 2004-12-14 02:09 pm (UTC)*knocks you back out and fondles what the corset hid*
I can see her snooty little pout with that "rose-petal skin" line.
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Date: 2004-12-14 02:05 pm (UTC)And I love Cecily's little essay.
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Date: 2004-12-14 02:10 pm (UTC)Hee hee! 10Q.
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Date: 2004-12-14 03:30 pm (UTC)But I'm saddened that not even one of those sweet Irish lads sidled up to here and whispered in her delicate ear - Is dócha nach bhfuil seans ar bith ann?
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Date: 2004-12-14 03:47 pm (UTC)Cecily is, to put it delicately, pissed. The US def., by the way. The pipers drank the last of the sherry and ale. It's fortunate that they only use small pipes, and not the Great Pipes of Scotland.
BTW: I just recieved your BEE-YOU-EE-FULL card that you handmade and my awesome CD!!! Oh, and your card went to the top of the card tree, by the way.
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Date: 2004-12-14 04:03 pm (UTC)Yes, I know that White Flag isn't a Christmas song (unless you're waving a flag of surrender to the kids) but I had to include it, just because of the video. First time I heard the song I was sure Dido was singing "I will go down on big sheep".
Strange lady, I thought.
Then someone told me it was "I will go down with this ship". Saw the video, saw that DB was in it. At the same time, I was getting into fanfic and slash. Brain went straight from point A to point Z, no stopping. Can't stop giggling whenever I hear it now, because I always hear "I will go down on this 'ship".
Honey, wouldn't we all like to have that choice?
So you know what the gaelic says then?
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Date: 2004-12-14 04:21 pm (UTC)*throws a tea towel over herself and summons a pittance of shame*
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Date: 2004-12-14 04:34 pm (UTC)It means "I suppose a ride's out of the question then?"
Guaranteed to get him a slap.
Yep, I'm just a regular potty mouth. Luckily it's not all English. Much better in Welsh.
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Date: 2004-12-14 04:42 pm (UTC)Oh, and I have a thing for the bad lick up lines, too. LOVE. THEM.
*commits new line to memory, saves for airfare to UK*
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Date: 2004-12-14 04:44 pm (UTC)But thanks for getting all dressed up!
*licks your icon*
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Date: 2004-12-14 04:42 pm (UTC)This story? Is making my holiday season! Cecily's talent for creative vengeance is the best resume a justice demon could wish for!
Still pimping vigorously.
You inspire me to great wrongness, and therefore *rock*.
Are you sure you're not possessed by a catty Victorian? Really, you can tell me.
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Date: 2004-12-14 04:44 pm (UTC)And I want to feed you special brownies for the love you're giving me. You know. "Special" brownies. With nuts!
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Date: 2004-12-14 04:49 pm (UTC)If I eat the special brownies, I will be able to write like you! Y'know. Nuts! 0-:oD
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Date: 2004-12-14 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-14 07:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-14 07:46 pm (UTC)Wooooohoooo!
D'Hoffryn is comin' to town! I love him.
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Date: 2004-12-14 08:28 pm (UTC)You better not pout I'm telling you why...
D'Hoffryn is coming to town.
Everything becomes a bastardized carol in my head now.
Last part tomorrow!
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Date: 2004-12-14 08:10 pm (UTC)pissed off former flower of her family here ----------->X
Won't be hard to miss.
Oooh, and if she thought the pipes were bad.
:;laughs the laugh of evil::
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Date: 2004-12-14 08:29 pm (UTC)Last bit tomorrow!
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Date: 2004-12-14 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-14 11:31 pm (UTC)Hee! It's like What I Did On My Summer Vacation but more vindictive... *eg*
I love how you've driven her to the brink...miss hoity toity "delicate petal"...Ha!
I am also a bit vindictive *g*
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Date: 2004-12-15 01:10 am (UTC)Still my favorite line. Well, that and "the Irish have landed." Who knew Harper's Bazaar would prove this useful?