eins, zwei, drei // flo's dump

[floki,]

well you found my dump. this where all of my extra crap will go.
anything i feel that needs to go here, will be here. that ranges from
poems, thoughts, au's, and me just complaining metaphorically. feel
free to read and enjoy. like most of my writing threads, i would
like to ask you to totes post criticism on this thread. please and thank
you. c;

and here are some of my longer works!
// wattpad // vengeance // the curse //

and here is the challenges i will be participating
// one hundred scenes // one hundred one shots //
// captain's ultimate challenge // 100 stories to tell //
// flo's challenge to you! //

[floki,]

one. // "You have Elvis Presley eyes... I would know."
two. // "I love yo-"
three. // neighborly duty

[floki,]

The slow bus ride through North Omaha's streets was indeed a dreary one. Rain drizzled down upon the city, leaving behind large quantities of puddles. Slowly the bus rolled along through, splashing up water at any unfortunate passerby. I sat towards the back of the near empty bus, gazing through the foggy windows. It was on rainy days, did Omaha seem so dead. The bus and excitement of the Old Market, was lost. It was these days did I love the most.

The bus jolted, and spluttered as we hit yet another pothole. Sprays of mucky water shot out, drenching another unlucky couple huddled under the large roof's of the Old Market Square. Wincing at their looks of disgust, and disappointment, I turned away from the window to watch the driver. She was a bit on the large side, with long curly grey hair. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the wheel. I wouldn't doubt why. The roads always got abnormally slick up here in the Market.

"Did you here about the Fire?" she asked suddenly.

Looking about the bus, I waited for one of the two people here to answer, but they only shuffled in their seats, and refocused upon their digital screens.

"Ma'am?" I could see her eyes looking straight out me through her mirror.

"I did..." I nodded slowly.

"Such a shame..." she clucked as her eyes averted back to the road. "That was a Landmark around her. I am just glad the pub perished, and nobody else. That would have been an even bigger disaster."

"Yeah," I nodded along.

Once more the bus became quiet. I could almost here the clicking away on the other two people's phones. I never really like conversation, it wasn't one of my "perks." My sister, Espie, was so much better than me. She could walk up to complete strangers, flash them a smile, and then get them talking as if they were old friends. Everyone always adored her. When she was around it seemed that everything stopped for her. She would practically glow when she entered a room.

Why can't you be like your sister? some would ask. She is so confident! Such a strong girl! Oh, and her beauty! Esmea, you could be so much better...

I was in the shadow of greatness for the longest of time. I was too scared to do anything, too awkward to be anything. So I just sat back, and listened to friends, family, and strangers complain how I was nothing like her.

Softly sighing, I turned back to my window. The fog upon it blurred everything over, causing figures and buildings to look more like blob monsters. Slowly my hand raised, and my fingers traced lines on the cool glass. Another jolt sent my finger skyrocketing up, creating a large zigzag line through my picture.

"Ugh," Setting my palm upon the glass, I wiped it all away.

"Ma'am, your stop," Driver spoke as she braked sharply, before opening the doors. "Stay dry out there!"

"As if that was an option..." I whispered before rising from my seat, and began shuffling down the aisle.

The rain was cold. Each individual drop to hit my skin, felt like a needle poking, and prodding through my layers. Quickly I tucked my hands away in the pockets of my jacket, before turning from the bus stop, towards my destination. It was a large building with a train on the outside of it. I looked like an old train station, which indeed it was some hundred or so years ago. Kicking a small puddle, I began my trek towards the building, and into it's grand revolving doors. Once in I was immediately hit with the smell of old luggage and my Grandmother's house.

"Welcome to the Durham Museum!" a younger lady stood behind a counter with a large sheet of glass in front of her. There was only a small slot below her, which she spoke out of. "Do you have a pass with us?"

Shaking my head softly, I pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Here," Sliding my fingers underneath the slot, I gave her the bill, before turning away and making my way into the museum.

The grand hall had lived up to its name. It was large, with window fixtures scattered across the ceiling and on the walls. A pair of brass figures sat on a bench, holding each other in one last embrace. (That was literally what the figure's were called. "The Last Embrace"). Another figure stood off towards the side. He was rummaging through his pocket, looking for his ticket.

"Where is that ticket?" a speaker would boom as it imitated the voice of the brass figure.

"I don't know buddy, I don't know..." I turned and made my way down the hall, and over to the large stairwell that led down into the basement portion of the Durham. Here it was where the trains would depart. A large train sat off to my right, while a set of oaken doors were to my left. Intrigued more by the doors than an old, musty train, I crossed the basement and headed inside.

"I welcome you to the Durham's Wax museum. Please, I would like to ask that you do not touch any of the figures, and please do not get on the stands. Also, do not touch any of the costumes that will be out. Enjoy!" A large man shook my hand, before ushering me through. He was the only man in there. Everyone else seemed more interested in the train outside. (everyone meaning the three other people so far... who were indeed brass.)

I walked through the exhibit, occasionally stopping at a few characters to read their description.

"Hello there."

I turned around swiftly to face a man. He was tall and awkward looking. He had long, shaggy brown hair, and beautiful hazel eyes. Biting my lower lip, I gave him a small smile.

"Hi," I said quietly.

"You like Johnny Depp too?" He pointed towards the wax figure in front of me. Indeed, it was Johnny Depp. He wore a unique pirates costume.

"Yeah..." I nodded.

"I do too. I liked him in The Tourist with Angie. Hey, you kind of look like Angie." He brushed away his hair to get a better look at me, but it only got me to stareing his his hazel eyes.

"Thanks," I nodded again. "Uh... your... your eyes..."

A brow raised as he listened to me stutter. He seemed to be almost amused by this.

"You have eyes like Elvis Presley...I would know."

The boy stopped and stared at me. He looked confused, and almost as shocked as I was. I could not believe at actually spoke that. That those words came out of my mouth. Quickly pointing towards one of the Wax figures, I did my best to explain myself.

"See! Look at his eyes," This had to been the most awkward moment of my life, and I was only making it worse.

The man looked towards the Wax figure, before breaking out into laughter. I knew right here that I was done for. This man would shame me, and all that I had just spoken. I hated speaking, cause I was not like my sister, and she could speak well.

"I guess I do!" His response surprised me. "And your hair is like Emmy Rossum's!"

I turned to another figure to see the massive curls upon her head. I giggled as I began feeling my own hair.

"What's your name?" he asked suddenly, causing me to look back at him.

"It's Esmea... you?"

"You wouldn't believe this... but it's actually Elvis..."

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word count : 1281 // prompt : "You have Elvis Presley eyes... I would know" // number : #28

[Pyjaks]

Awhhhh that was so cute :D
I like your writing style a lot, its simple but also detailed. You put a lot of depth into your characters in such a short piece
and side note Espie and Esmea are beautiful names

I can't wait to read more :)

[floki,]

i know!!!!
thank you my dear! <3 it has taken me sooooo long to get this up cause how much character depth i went into this one. o.o
i love those names too! ahhhhh c:

i can not wait to write more!

[Ranger of the North]

Hehehe I liked that one a lot cx <3

[floki,]

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" his hand gently touched her back.

Nodding slowly, the dirty blonde flashed a toothy smile, before picking up her skirts and entering into the theater house. Christian stood out in the cold January air, watching the freshly lit gas lamps flicker in the windows of the house. This had been the first time in weeks since he and Greer were able to go out. Ever since the cold she caught last winter, Greer still struggled with recovery. Christian would find her locked up in her room having such a fit.

I just hope she isn't over doing herself with this. Pulling at his coat, he entered the theater.

The theater was a disgusting place. There were trash lined against the walls with rats nibbling on bits here and there. One large rodent in particular, ran across Christian's foot, giving him a scare. Quickly he shuffled down the small rows of chairs toward Greer who sat at the front.

"Come on!" she smiled brightly as she pulled her skirts off the second seat, before propping her feet up against the seats in front of her.

"That is very unlady like," Christian took his seat.

"Good thing I am no ordinary lady," scoffing she averted her attention toward the empty stage. "When is it going to begin?"

"Five, maybe ten minutes," Christian laid back a bit. His eyes caught a bright orange ball fly besides him. Turning quickly, he watched as a man tossed oranges out to the crowd. Raising his hand, Christian caught the attention of the man, and within seconds had himself an orange.

"For you, my not so ordinary lady," offering the orange to Greer, he flashed her a large smile.

"Why thank you," grasping the orange in her calloused hands, she began peeling away at the skin.

"Ladies and Gentleman. May I have your attention. I wish to inform you of a series of events that occurred on January the 4th. These events included a murder, a forbidden, love, womanhood, and the wolfman," A man had entered from stage left. His face painted in a blinding white, with red dots upon his cheeks.

A few people in the crowd cheered and oohed at the man's speech, while others remained deathly still.

"It was January the 4th did the young maiden, Juliet," A young girl entered from stage right. Her blonde curls were tightly knotted upon her head. "find herself lost among the woods of England in 1406. The woods were fraught with danger, and most of all... a beast!" A howl echoed throughout the theater, as the curtains suddenly fell in front of the man and the young girl.

"The Foxtrot theater welcomes you to tonight's rendition of The Wolf man in England."

Greer sat up in her seat as she began stuffing her face with pieces of orange. Already she was intrigued.

The play went on for another hour and a half. The whole time, Christian was more focused on Greer and her interest in the play. She sat at the edge of her seat, never straying an eye from the stage. When the old baker would come on stage, she would laugh at his clumsiness and at his slurred speech. When the widow would appear, she would cry with her, feeling the pain of her loss. But when the duke appeared, she would grow very still. Suddenly, during the middle of the play, Greer leaned over to Christian.

"He's it," she whispered.

"He's what?"

"He's the wolfman!" her eyes now were staring straight into Christians.

"How do you know?" he challenged.

"All the rich, good looking men are wolves."

The next hour and a half passed, and Christian found himself questioning Greer's logic. There is no way the Duke is the wolf. He is too in love with the girl! If he was the wolf, wouldn't he have pushed her away? Saved her life, instead of wanting her? The Duke had been throwing himself at the girl every chance he could. He begged, and pleaded for her to stay with him, and begged for her hand in marriage.

"I just want you," he would whimper before watching her disappear off stage.

Finally, the end grew near. The girl stood out, gazing into the Duke's eyes. He gave her a small smile, before suddenly, something changed. He changed. He transformed right there on stage. No longer was he a good looking man, but a large wolf, with fuzzy paws, and yellow eyes. Slashing out at her, he cut her open, and watched as she fell to the ground. Stage blood shot out from her, squirting the front row with the sticky liquid.

Greer smiled and clapped. She was right, and Christian was wrong, once again. Standing up, Christian grabbed Greer's hand and tugged on it gently.

"The show is done, time to get you home."

Greer looked at the stage and its bowing cast one last time, before leaving the theater with him. Outside they were greeted with the first snowfall of winter.

"I should have brought a better shawl," Greer muttered as she wrapped the cloth around her as she walked on into the night with him.

"Here," smiling gently, Christian removed his own coat and began wrapping it around her, when he felt a tap upon his shoulder. Turning around, he was met with a large fist, colliding into his face.

"Christian!" Greer screamed as she watched him fall onto the fresh snow.

A large man stood in front of him. He had a fancy coat, and gold chain hanging out from one of his pockets. Reaching down, he snatched Christians coat from the ground.

"Christian," he spoke softly. "I told you, you owed me something. I told you, that you needed to repay my by the sixth. It is the eighth, and no payment." shaking his meaty head of his, the man turned and looked over at Greer. A grotesque smile grew across his plump face. "But I know something that you can repay me with."

The man stepped over the shaky body of Christian, and toward Greer. "Aren't you a pretty little goose? It is such a shame that you were wasted away on this..."

Backing away, Greer spat in his direction. "Don't you dare!"

The man only laughed and began pushing her into a nearby alley way. Grabbing her by the arms, he forcefully planted a kiss upon her lips. Greer squirmed and fought against his touch. She screamed, punched, kicked, but nothing was working. It wasn't until her cough came, did he back off. She coughed, and coughed, until a wad of blood came up, splattering across the man's face.

"Damn you!" The man roared as he pushed her to the ground, before kicking snow up at her. "Damn your sickness! By God if I get this illness, there shall be hell to pay." And quickly he turned on his heel and fled down the street, all the time grumbling about the blood.

Christian sat up slowly, moaning as he touched his face. "Greer, are you okay?" he asked as his eyes laid upon her body that now laid in the snow feet away from him. "Greer... Greer!" Scrambling to his feet he rushed over toward her. She was shaking, with a trial blood dripping from her mouth. Her eyes had already began glossing over, and her body slowly became weaker.

"Chrisss-tian." she whimpered. "I-I tollld you... all wo-olves."

"Shhh, I know, I know." he spoke gently as he lifted her into his lap. "We need to get you to a physician..."

"Christiaan... I love yo-" Her body went weak, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Another trail of blood ran down her cheek. She was gone.

"Don't do this, Greer... please... come back! Greer!" Christian cried as he held her close. "I love you... I LOVE YOU!"
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word count : 1320 // prompt : "I love yo-" // number : # 94

[Ranger of the North]

[floki,]

I had always known that girl was special. Right from the moment of her birth, I knew she would be always up to no good. I could see the devil himself in her very eyes, and it was those eyes that betrayed the very mother that birthed her some few weeks before... it. You see, I was was tending to the garden, when I heard an awful lot of screaming coming from the house down the lane, more screaming than the usual. So I took it upon my neighborly duty to go right down the lane, and over to the Proctor household, just to have a peek see. And when I checked right through Mrs. Proctor's window, why I was astonished to see the mother hurdle in the corner, and the baby just a screaming and crying in her crib. Mrs. Proctor was mumbling to herself, and rocking back in forth, her arms embracing those skinny legs of hers. Her long brown hair had not been washed or mended to in quite some time. Seeing she did not look presentable, I took it upon myself to not call for Mr. Proctor, or Mr. Hale to come check on her, instead I just walked right on in.

"My, Mrs. Proctor, what in the lord's name are you doing?" I question her as I moved towards the baby.

"Don't touch her!" she screamed from the corner. I could see the redness in her eyes, and the newly formed tears beginning to stream down her face. "Devil has touched her..."

Gasping, I backed away from the crying child, and over to Mrs. Proctor.

"The Devil?! And how does you know?" Grabbing at her arms, I pulled her up to face me. "How do you know?!"

"I see it...I see it in her eyes... and she has the mark. Oh my child shall burn in hell...she shall burn, and she will bring me with her!" Mrs. Proctor began her sobbing once more, as her body went limp against me.

"Mrs. Proctor, what mark?! Where?!"

"On...her...arm"

Dropping the woman, I turned back to the child. My eyes catching the beady black marbles of hers as they dared me to move closer. Crossing the room, back toward the crib, I took in a long drag of breath.

"Be still child," I cooed as I slowly bent down to roll up her sleeves. And there it lay. The mark. Three ghastly lines running down the inside of her arm, followed by a single pink dot. Reeling back, I glared towards Mrs. Proctor.

"You have been practicing witchcraft!" I knew very well at the time that Mrs. Proctor was a well contributor to our little society, and believed wholly in the savior, but who else would believe the child was a spawn of satan himself without thinking me being the one who cursed her.

Mrs. Proctor's eyes grew as I accused her of the blasphemy.

"Ms. Nurse... you know I have never done such a thing! You know I love God! You know I would never!" She stood back to her feet and began advancing towards me, but quickly I dodged her embraces, and moved towards the door.

"You have cursed that poor child!" Opening the door, I ran out of the house and down the lane. I ran so fast that my skirts began tangling around my legs. I soon found myself on the hard, cold wintery ground. Behind me I could here the thuds of Mrs. Proctor's feet as she tried to catch up to me. Scrambling back to my feet, I ran once more.

The town was only a mile away from my home, but that mile felt so long. My limbs ached half way through, but I could not give up. It was my neighborly duty to report the crime that had been committed upon the poor child. So when I saw the large tower of Judge Hale's house, I knew the trouble was all going to be solved very soon.

Running up to his door, I slammed my fists against the wood.

"Mr. Hale! Mr. Hale it is Rebecca! Please, open up!" I hollered and hollered, till finally the man came down.

"Ms. Nurse, what is the meaning of this?"

"Mrs. Proctor is a witch! She cursed her child, and I have seen it with my own eyes!" I blurted. "She herself confessed to signing satan's book! I heard her say so! And the child, oh that poor child. She has three marks upon her arm... oh Judge, she has been bewitched, cursed."

"Rebecca, please wait!" Mrs. Proctor yelled some ways down the road.

"Judge, she has come to bewitch me too, oh judge please...help me!"

The large man nodded quickly, before grabbing me gently by the wrists and escorting me inside his humble home.

"I will have her arrested, and the child taken care of by our Father." he spoke gently before returning outside to wait for the wailing Mrs. Proctor.

I sat inside for maybe half an hour, thinking of what I had just done. I had accused Mrs. Proctor of a terrible thing, even though I knew she would have never done it. But it was those baby's eyes that got me so irked. I was positive I saw a spark of flame within it. I swore satan had taken over that poor child.

A thought crossed my mind suddenly. What if Mrs. Proctor was a witch? I had just helped rid the town of a nuisance. And that poor child, oh dear she would grow to be a better woman than her mother, and learn to be a better christian girl. I had down the town, neigh the state of massachusetts a favor. After all, it was my neighborly duty to do so.
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word count : 964 // prompt : "neighborly duty" // number : n/a

[floki,]

It is you I need. Your body that I yearn to be next to.

It is your smell that I can never stop smelling. A soft kind of smell like rains in November. It is your voice that I wish to hear. Gentle like winds in the spring. I want you next to me, with me, forever and always. But you do not want me.

I lay alone in the darkness of our room. The blankets pulled up to my nose as they caught the tears that dribbled from my eyes. You left me there, begging that you would stay just one more night. You listened to me weep, and cry out your name, and yet you still walked out the door. I had given you my all, my soul, my love, and you gave me tears and wet blankets.

I dreamed about you for nights. I stood at the bow of a ship, my hands extended outwards as I reached for you to catch me. My feet slip, and I am falling down, down into the cold watery deeps of the blue ocean. And you, you stand above, watching as I fall. Waiting for me to drown. I gasp and swim up, trying to fight the waves that lapped vigorously at my face. But my feet fail, and my arms, stop. I watch as I go under and all I see is the blur of your figure upon the ship, watching me drown from a distance.

Time has past. I have grown older, wiser, stronger. But it is you I still see in my dreams. It is you that my hands always reach out far when I am falling down. It is you who push away my hands and let me drown in my of sea tears. It is you that let me down. You with soft smell and gentle voice. You with the golden brown hair and emerald eyes. You with the warm smile. You let me down hard, and walked from the scene.

Still I cry out in the night, screaming your name. I wake to wet blankets and tear soaked blankets. It is you who has left me alone in the darkness once again. Your image forever stained into my memory. The love I gave you, meant nothing to you. The nights we shared walking down the street, that days spent soaking under the suns harsh rays, thrown away. The bed for two became such much bigger when you left.

Some days I look out my window and see you walk by. Your hand embraced with another's, and I find it hard that you have already moved on with some else. Yet I was stuck here, thinking forever over you. Pondering whether or not I should run to you, beg you to return to me. But as I see you walk by, smiling at your new found love, I do nothing. I watch.

You have found another, and it is time that I do the same. No more long nights begging for your body next to mine. No more gloomy mornings where I pray that you would return. No more dark afternoons where I hoped you would come back. No. I pushed it passed me. I may never forget you and the love I had for you, but I will make new memories with another. More love shall be shared. And you will only be the past. A figment of what I once was.
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word count : 578 // prompt : "Please, stay with me" // number : 92