words_unravel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
words_unravel) wrote2010-02-02 09:52 pm
words_unravel) wrote2010-02-02 09:52 pm
Entry tags:
wip amnesty??
Dude. This thing would be a monster if I actually worked my way through it, continuing in the same vein as its current style.
I don't know how many of you have seen A Life Less Ordinary, but if you haven't? Shame. It's possible one of my top 5 favorite movies of all time, negl. Ridiculous and fabulous all in the same breath.
Now, when I was assigned this prompt I had no idea what I was doing. I wasn't sure if I should just rewrite using bandom characters, make it similar, whatever? No. Friggin'. Clue. So in the end, I downloaded the movie and the screenplay and um, probably plagiarized the hell out of both? There's huge chunks of actual script in what I've written, but damn if I don't love it anyway. Also, one of my favorite titles ever, just so you know. :D
So, I'll let you decide if I should ever finish this puppy.
Title: In Between This Heartbeat And The Next, A Bullet (Or Love)
Film Prompt: A Life Less Ordinary
Pairing: Spencer/Brendon
*
See this?
This is a story of perfect love.
...Okay, strike that. It's the story of not-so-perfect love really. It's a story of coincidences, a story of fate, destiny. Whichever you choose.
And every story's gotta start somewhere....
The precinct is noisy. Incredibly busy, too - papers, people, movement everywhere. Bob's always been good at waiting, and so he sits there on the bench, a wall of calm. His tailored white suit is sharp. The tie, pristine white, is knotted perfectly and sets smooth against his white shirt.
Frank has not always been good at waiting. He's practically vibrating in his seat; one leg crossed over the other, white Vans-encased foot tapping the air. Something big is up though, he's trying to be patient.
So they wait.
~*~
A man walks through the door, little to distinguish him from everyone around him, with a number of manilla folders tucked under his arm. A shock of scraggly black hair is a direct contrast to the blinding white of his suit. His buttons are done up wrong and the jacket is a little rumpled, but Frank and Bob quickly roll off the bench to follow him up the stairs.
Frank hops up on the corner of the white desk in the white room, swings his legs. Bob closes the door firmly and sits down, ready.
The door reads: Gerard Way: Chief of Police
~*~
As somber as the trip up to his office had been, the minute everyone's settled, things start flying.
"Divorce!" A folder goes winging over Bob's lap.
"Miserable marriage!"
"Wedding canceled." Two more folders.
"Remarried....Divorced again."
"Ahh!" Frank leans over to check out the folder in Gerard's hands and nearly gets pinged in the head as Gerard yells, "Irreconcilable sexual disharmony!"
"Dysfunctional marriage!" Bob ducks this time.
"Divorce!" Folder. "Divorce!" Folder.
"Divorce! Divorce! Divorce! Divorce!" Gerard waits for the papers to settle from the air around them before demanding, "Well? Talk to me."
Bob shrugs, "We had a bad run, " and Frank jumps in with, "Things have changed down there. Men and women aren't like they used to be."
"Well, things are changing up here as well. I'm getting pressure from above, if you know what I mean, for results! For people to be bonded in eternal bliss. In the meantime, I've been instructed to introduce-" Gerard looks off to the side, sighing, "-new incentive schemes for our leading operatives."
Frank grins at Gerard, "Leading operatives, huh?"
Gerard's not exactly brimming with enthusiasm, his "That's you, " a little flat.
Grin disappearing, Frank demands, "So what's going on, Gee? Give it to us straight."
"It's a hard case to crack. I have full confidence you can do it. If you don't-" Another sigh, deeper this time, "-you don't come back."
Frank nearly falls off the desk; Bob sits up straighter, his "No way." falling on top of Frank's "What?!"
Gerard grimaces, "That's the new incentive scheme."
"Your mission is to unite man and woman...blah, blah-" a hand flails about, "blah, blah, OK? When you're done, you come back. If you fail-"
Bob and Frank just stare.
"-you stay down there forever."
Frank and Bob stare some more.
"It's out of my hands, guys. I'm sorry."
And the sad thing is, Frank and Bob believe him. This is not how Gerard likes to work. He's not big on ultimatums, wants everyone to get there at their own pace. A job well done, a well-earned victory.
Frank opens the case file, Bob leaning over his shoulder.
Time to see what they've got to work with.
So there you go.
Bob and Frank, Angels With A Mission: make two people fall in love. Shouldn't be that hard, right?
Let's see who they're up against, shall we?
"She's the secret daughter of Marilyn Monroe and John F. Kennedy, right? I mean,that's why Marilyn was murdered." Brendon's really getting into it, elbows pressed hard against the break room table, "So,the young girl grows up in an orphanage, unaware of her incredible parentage." Now he's leaning forward into the edge of the table, "Years go by."
Brendon glances at Andy, "She's beautiful- " then Joe, "-she's smart-" back to Andy, "-she's successful, OK?" He pauses and Joe leans in a little.
"Then what?"
"Well,then-" Brendon grins, "-then she gets sent to London as U.S. ambassador-"
"Where she discovers who she is and also unravels the secret of the Nazi gold, hidden underneath the embassy." Andy sounds bored and vaguely pissed off. Brendon maybe suddenly remembers that Andy's a vegan anarchist and that crappy political intrigue may not have been the best storyline to throw at him. But still.
"Um, yeah."
Joe leans back again, "It's kind of obvious, Brendon."
"Of course it's obvious, guys! It's a trash novel. You buy it in the airport, you take it on holiday-" Brendon's tirade is abruptly interrupted by the opening of the break room door as Bert McCracken, the shift manager, comes in. Everyone stands up, tries to look busy. Brendon heads for the door and, by unfortunate timing, Bert.
"Oh hey, Bert, nice to see you down here." Bert makes Brendon a little uncomfortable. For one, he kind of towers over him which, well, Brendon's usually not the one doing any towering. Over anyone. Ever. "I'd love to stay and talk, but, um," and second, there's that time that Bert totally cornered him in the break room by himself about 2 weeks ago.
Bert just hands him a letter, smiles, and waits.
Aaaaand contestant number two, right this way!
Spencer's doing his morning laps, lazily. The pool is crystalline, olympic sized and heated. It matches the mansion behind it perfectly, but then Spencer's father paid a lot of money for it to be that way.
He gets out of the pool when he notices Zack, the butler, setting a tray down nearby. He tosses the apple to Zack, who shines it on the sleeve of his pressed white jacket, and then proceeds to open the black decor box that also sits on the tray. Inside is a gleaming silver Colt .45 with six perfect bullets. Spencer handles the gun with ease, slides one bullet in and snaps it closed. He walks to the end of the pool, opposite Zack.
Zack in the interim, has placed the apple atop his head. His movements are sure, well-practiced and he stands there calm and collected, obviously used to this ritual. Spencer aims and fires.
The apple explodes.
~*~
"Robots?"
"You're telling us we're gonna be replaced by robots?" Disbelief and incredulity , "That robots will get down on their robot hands and knees-" Brendon's doing a lot of flailing now, the letter in his hand flapping around wildly, "-and clean the dust out of every office in this building?"
Brendon may also using his 'towering' to the best of his advantage, "I think not, Bert. "
"At least the robot won't spend its time writing a trash novel, " a smirk, "Not even a very good trash novel, as I understand it."
Brendon looks accusingly at Joe and Andy, who've hidden themselves away by the sink at the back of the room before turning back to Bert, "Oh, I see. This is personal." Brendon should have let him cop a feel then, two weeks ago. Maybe. Okay, just, no.
"It's got nothing to do with me, Brendon, this comes right from the top, from Mr. Smith himself." Oh, thank god he didn't.
"Perhaps it's time I spoke to this Mr. Smith then-"
Bert shakes his head, "It's too late." He makes no attempt to hide the satisfaction in his tone when he states, "You're fired."
~*~
Spencer is just lowering the gun when Greenwald shows up. Alex is, well, Spencer prefers not to think about what exactly Alex is. He chooses to ignore Alex usually, something that drives him insane. It's the simple things in life that make Spencer happy.
"Nice trick, Spencer."
"Want to try your luck then?" Spencer's made his way back around the pool, to settle for a moment on one of the chaise lounge, as he pulls another bullet out of the box.
"With the gun?"
He snaps it closed again, "With the fruit." Alex frowns at that, "I don't have time for games."
Looking back over his shoulder, Spencer mocks, "If you're afraid, Greenwald, why don't you just say so?"
"Spencer, last night, we discussed a certain proposal-"
"And I said no. Because you cheat, Alex."
Alex grins, "So I'm flirtatious, it's in my nature." And now he's settled on his earnest face, "But I want you to think again. Do you know how difficult it is for a person to find a good partner in this town, let alone a good dentist? Spencer-"
Standing up, Spencer looks straight at him, "I'm serious." Alex just looks confused.
Zack tosses him an apple.
*
Spencer's paced off again, Alex just looks nervous. The apple wobbles a bit.
"Now if you move," He cocks the gun, "the offer's canceled." He watches Alex's adam's apple bob as he swallows hard, "Okay."
Spencer aims-
"Wait, Spencer."
"Don't speak."
-squints a bit-
"Do you think this is wise?"
"It puts me off."
"Ha. Ha." -fires- "Stop!"
*
"Zack?" It's hard to talk over Alex screaming, "Would you call a doctor?"
"It would be a pleasure, sir."
So there's that. Angels, Humans, Narrators, oh my! I'd like a way to differentiate the narrator's voice without being really annoying. *sigh*
Tell me what you think?
I don't know how many of you have seen A Life Less Ordinary, but if you haven't? Shame. It's possible one of my top 5 favorite movies of all time, negl. Ridiculous and fabulous all in the same breath.
Now, when I was assigned this prompt I had no idea what I was doing. I wasn't sure if I should just rewrite using bandom characters, make it similar, whatever? No. Friggin'. Clue. So in the end, I downloaded the movie and the screenplay and um, probably plagiarized the hell out of both? There's huge chunks of actual script in what I've written, but damn if I don't love it anyway. Also, one of my favorite titles ever, just so you know. :D
So, I'll let you decide if I should ever finish this puppy.
Title: In Between This Heartbeat And The Next, A Bullet (Or Love)
Film Prompt: A Life Less Ordinary
Pairing: Spencer/Brendon
*
So, here's the deal. We are in the garden, right? And everything is great. And there's this tree. And the man says, "Ooh, see that tree? Don't eat the fruit of that tree. That apple you do not eat." He goes inside, names some animals--maybe takes a dump.
Anyway,what does she do?
She eats the apple! I can't believe what I'm seeing! He says, "Don't eat it!" She eats it! Since then, men,women-- I don't know.
It's all going wrong!
<<~~>>
See this?
This is a story of perfect love.
...Okay, strike that. It's the story of not-so-perfect love really. It's a story of coincidences, a story of fate, destiny. Whichever you choose.
And every story's gotta start somewhere....
<<~~>>
The precinct is noisy. Incredibly busy, too - papers, people, movement everywhere. Bob's always been good at waiting, and so he sits there on the bench, a wall of calm. His tailored white suit is sharp. The tie, pristine white, is knotted perfectly and sets smooth against his white shirt.
Frank has not always been good at waiting. He's practically vibrating in his seat; one leg crossed over the other, white Vans-encased foot tapping the air. Something big is up though, he's trying to be patient.
So they wait.
~*~
A man walks through the door, little to distinguish him from everyone around him, with a number of manilla folders tucked under his arm. A shock of scraggly black hair is a direct contrast to the blinding white of his suit. His buttons are done up wrong and the jacket is a little rumpled, but Frank and Bob quickly roll off the bench to follow him up the stairs.
Frank hops up on the corner of the white desk in the white room, swings his legs. Bob closes the door firmly and sits down, ready.
The door reads: Gerard Way: Chief of Police
~*~
As somber as the trip up to his office had been, the minute everyone's settled, things start flying.
"Divorce!" A folder goes winging over Bob's lap.
"Miserable marriage!"
"Wedding canceled." Two more folders.
"Remarried....Divorced again."
"Ahh!" Frank leans over to check out the folder in Gerard's hands and nearly gets pinged in the head as Gerard yells, "Irreconcilable sexual disharmony!"
"Dysfunctional marriage!" Bob ducks this time.
"Divorce!" Folder. "Divorce!" Folder.
"Divorce! Divorce! Divorce! Divorce!" Gerard waits for the papers to settle from the air around them before demanding, "Well? Talk to me."
Bob shrugs, "We had a bad run, " and Frank jumps in with, "Things have changed down there. Men and women aren't like they used to be."
"Well, things are changing up here as well. I'm getting pressure from above, if you know what I mean, for results! For people to be bonded in eternal bliss. In the meantime, I've been instructed to introduce-" Gerard looks off to the side, sighing, "-new incentive schemes for our leading operatives."
Frank grins at Gerard, "Leading operatives, huh?"
Gerard's not exactly brimming with enthusiasm, his "That's you, " a little flat.
Grin disappearing, Frank demands, "So what's going on, Gee? Give it to us straight."
"It's a hard case to crack. I have full confidence you can do it. If you don't-" Another sigh, deeper this time, "-you don't come back."
Frank nearly falls off the desk; Bob sits up straighter, his "No way." falling on top of Frank's "What?!"
Gerard grimaces, "That's the new incentive scheme."
"Your mission is to unite man and woman...blah, blah-" a hand flails about, "blah, blah, OK? When you're done, you come back. If you fail-"
Bob and Frank just stare.
"-you stay down there forever."
Frank and Bob stare some more.
"It's out of my hands, guys. I'm sorry."
And the sad thing is, Frank and Bob believe him. This is not how Gerard likes to work. He's not big on ultimatums, wants everyone to get there at their own pace. A job well done, a well-earned victory.
Frank opens the case file, Bob leaning over his shoulder.
Time to see what they've got to work with.
<<~~>>
So there you go.
Bob and Frank, Angels With A Mission: make two people fall in love. Shouldn't be that hard, right?
Let's see who they're up against, shall we?
<<~~>>
"She's the secret daughter of Marilyn Monroe and John F. Kennedy, right? I mean,that's why Marilyn was murdered." Brendon's really getting into it, elbows pressed hard against the break room table, "So,the young girl grows up in an orphanage, unaware of her incredible parentage." Now he's leaning forward into the edge of the table, "Years go by."
Brendon glances at Andy, "She's beautiful- " then Joe, "-she's smart-" back to Andy, "-she's successful, OK?" He pauses and Joe leans in a little.
"Then what?"
"Well,then-" Brendon grins, "-then she gets sent to London as U.S. ambassador-"
"Where she discovers who she is and also unravels the secret of the Nazi gold, hidden underneath the embassy." Andy sounds bored and vaguely pissed off. Brendon maybe suddenly remembers that Andy's a vegan anarchist and that crappy political intrigue may not have been the best storyline to throw at him. But still.
"Um, yeah."
Joe leans back again, "It's kind of obvious, Brendon."
"Of course it's obvious, guys! It's a trash novel. You buy it in the airport, you take it on holiday-" Brendon's tirade is abruptly interrupted by the opening of the break room door as Bert McCracken, the shift manager, comes in. Everyone stands up, tries to look busy. Brendon heads for the door and, by unfortunate timing, Bert.
"Oh hey, Bert, nice to see you down here." Bert makes Brendon a little uncomfortable. For one, he kind of towers over him which, well, Brendon's usually not the one doing any towering. Over anyone. Ever. "I'd love to stay and talk, but, um," and second, there's that time that Bert totally cornered him in the break room by himself about 2 weeks ago.
Bert just hands him a letter, smiles, and waits.
<<~~>>
Aaaaand contestant number two, right this way!
<<~~>>
Spencer's doing his morning laps, lazily. The pool is crystalline, olympic sized and heated. It matches the mansion behind it perfectly, but then Spencer's father paid a lot of money for it to be that way.
He gets out of the pool when he notices Zack, the butler, setting a tray down nearby. He tosses the apple to Zack, who shines it on the sleeve of his pressed white jacket, and then proceeds to open the black decor box that also sits on the tray. Inside is a gleaming silver Colt .45 with six perfect bullets. Spencer handles the gun with ease, slides one bullet in and snaps it closed. He walks to the end of the pool, opposite Zack.
Zack in the interim, has placed the apple atop his head. His movements are sure, well-practiced and he stands there calm and collected, obviously used to this ritual. Spencer aims and fires.
The apple explodes.
~*~
"Robots?"
"You're telling us we're gonna be replaced by robots?" Disbelief and incredulity , "That robots will get down on their robot hands and knees-" Brendon's doing a lot of flailing now, the letter in his hand flapping around wildly, "-and clean the dust out of every office in this building?"
Brendon may also using his 'towering' to the best of his advantage, "I think not, Bert. "
"At least the robot won't spend its time writing a trash novel, " a smirk, "Not even a very good trash novel, as I understand it."
Brendon looks accusingly at Joe and Andy, who've hidden themselves away by the sink at the back of the room before turning back to Bert, "Oh, I see. This is personal." Brendon should have let him cop a feel then, two weeks ago. Maybe. Okay, just, no.
"It's got nothing to do with me, Brendon, this comes right from the top, from Mr. Smith himself." Oh, thank god he didn't.
"Perhaps it's time I spoke to this Mr. Smith then-"
Bert shakes his head, "It's too late." He makes no attempt to hide the satisfaction in his tone when he states, "You're fired."
~*~
Spencer is just lowering the gun when Greenwald shows up. Alex is, well, Spencer prefers not to think about what exactly Alex is. He chooses to ignore Alex usually, something that drives him insane. It's the simple things in life that make Spencer happy.
"Nice trick, Spencer."
"Want to try your luck then?" Spencer's made his way back around the pool, to settle for a moment on one of the chaise lounge, as he pulls another bullet out of the box.
"With the gun?"
He snaps it closed again, "With the fruit." Alex frowns at that, "I don't have time for games."
Looking back over his shoulder, Spencer mocks, "If you're afraid, Greenwald, why don't you just say so?"
"Spencer, last night, we discussed a certain proposal-"
"And I said no. Because you cheat, Alex."
Alex grins, "So I'm flirtatious, it's in my nature." And now he's settled on his earnest face, "But I want you to think again. Do you know how difficult it is for a person to find a good partner in this town, let alone a good dentist? Spencer-"
Standing up, Spencer looks straight at him, "I'm serious." Alex just looks confused.
Zack tosses him an apple.
*
Spencer's paced off again, Alex just looks nervous. The apple wobbles a bit.
"Now if you move," He cocks the gun, "the offer's canceled." He watches Alex's adam's apple bob as he swallows hard, "Okay."
Spencer aims-
"Wait, Spencer."
"Don't speak."
-squints a bit-
"Do you think this is wise?"
"It puts me off."
"Ha. Ha." -fires- "Stop!"
*
"Zack?" It's hard to talk over Alex screaming, "Would you call a doctor?"
"It would be a pleasure, sir."
<<~~>>
So there's that. Angels, Humans, Narrators, oh my! I'd like a way to differentiate the narrator's voice without being really annoying. *sigh*
Tell me what you think?
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no subject
But I do love it so. *sigh* I guess that's my answer, huh?
Thanks for your enthusiastic response btw, it totally made me smile this morning!
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no subject
What are your thoughts style-wise? Was it hard to understand, annoying, tell meeeeeee. /demanding foot stomp