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drinking the otp kool-aid [userpic]
drafty drafty draft
by drinking the otp kool-aid (pocky_slash)
at October 26th, 2006 (04:50 am)

current mood: weird

iv. tristan mcgreavy

The tranquility wasn't something that he expected. He wasn't sure if it was the rumors about the murders or the fact that he associated schools with screaming kids, but he wasn't expecting it to be quite so serene. The parking lot was empty, save for two other cars at the far end, and he stood for a moment, staring up at the quaint little strip of apartment housing before his brother pulled into the space next to him.

He didn't turn towards the car, but he heard the engine cut out and the door to the SUV open and then slam shut.

"You sure you're ready for this, T?" Leo asked, punching Tristan's arm. "Living two hundred miles away from home, all by your lonesome?"

"Shut up," he said, rubbing his arm, his eyes still focused on his new apartment. His brother's words actually had him home. He was able to recognize the shadow of concern that was evident underneath Leo's teasing tone. This was the furthest Tristan had been away from his family. After growing up just outside of Boston, attending college inside the city, and teaching there for two years, Field's End, Vermont, seemed like it was on the other side of the planet.

He finally pulled himself out of his head and managed to turn around and gesture towards his car. He and Leo managed to empty all of his personal belongings into his bare first-floor apartment in much less time than Tristan had counted on. By lunch time, their cars were empty and by the time they had finished the sandwiches they picked up from the local deli, Leo was climbing back into his car and heading home.

Their goodbye wasn't any more emotional or signifigant than any of the others had been over the years. It didn't seem like Leo was going any further than across town, and it wasn't until Tristan had been sitting at his kitchen table, staring at his unpacked boxes for an hour, that he realized exactly how alone he had suddenly become.

Fuck...Collapse )

drinking the otp kool-aid [userpic]
so, clearly I'm bad at making decisions.
by drinking the otp kool-aid (pocky_slash)
at October 25th, 2006 (10:03 pm)

current location: indy office
current mood: tired

I've changed my project for the third and last time. I swear.


Teacher Arrested in Prep School Slayings

FIELD’S END-- Late last night, authorities apprehended local English teacher Gloria Whitman for the kidnapping and murder of four of her colleagues from their housing at local prepretory school Beaumont Academy.

Whitman, 55, was captured in the midst of another attempted kidnapping of additional Beaumont faculty.

Also taken into custody was Henry Silverman, 42, a geometry teacher who assisted in last night’s abductions, as well as the attempted murder of a fellow faculty member, Alan Pratchett. Pratchett was stabbed repeatedly by Silverman before Whitman interfered, and is at Ferrisburgh Community General undergoing surgery.

Pratchett, however, was merely a hurdle to Whitman and Silverman’s main objective, which was disposing of Beaumont Dean of Students, Allison Kane, a source says.

“There was a power struggle between [Whitman] and [former Dean] Elizabeth Gaynor,” the source, who preferred to stay anonymous, confirmed. “When Elizabeth was disposed of, it was assumed that Gloria would get her job. When Allison got it instead and Elizabeth left her the deed to the school, Gloria needed to do something about it.”

The plot to kidnap and murder Kane after the conclusion of the Beaumont prom, however, was complicated by the arrival of several other faculty members, including Pratchett, who had wandered into the back parking lot after returning to the dance hall to retrieve a missing set of keys. Daniel Green, Doug Walker, and Daniel Stevens were unharmed, as was Laura Vienna, an undercover detective working at the school who was able to contact the police after being abandoned by Whitman to care for Pratchett.

For more on this story, see Section C Page 3.

i. alan pratchett

It was marvelous to be back in Vermont.

That was all Alan could think, anyway, as he sat on his sofa with a cup of coffee, staring out his window into the woods. It was beautiful and quiet and home, which was a novel idea after two years of being completely bereft of something fitting that description. The generic faculty apartment had finally taken on his and Danny's personalities and it felt less like housing and more like actual living space. Danny sleeping soundly in the other room didn't hurt, either, he realized, smiling to himself.

He glanced at his watch and noticed that it was almost nine-thirty and he still had to walk all the way to the other side of campus for his morning meeting with Allison Kane. Regretfully, he placed his coffee cup on the end table and pulled himself off of the sofa. Gathering his folder of lesson plans, he paused before leaving and turned around, walking back towards the bedroom.

Danny was still curled up on the bed, his breathing even, and once again Alan couldn't keep the smile off of his face. He leaned over and kissed Danny's forehead, careful not to wake him. Danny deserved all the sleep he could get and Alan enjoyed taking a moment just to watch him. He hunted around on the nightstand for a pen, and scribbled a quick note on the back of an envelope.


Mtg w/ Allison.

Back soon.

Love you.


He left the note on his pillow and allowed himself one long, last look at Danny before he left the bedroom and then the apartment.

The way the campus was situated, he had quite a walk ahead of him, but he didn't mind too much. It wasn't as oppressively hot as it had been the day before and the campus was still deserted. Some of the on-campus faculty had summer homes and some of them had—or so he had heard—left the school all together after the events of last May. He couldn't say he blamed them—five murders would be a pretty good incentive for anyone to leave.

Still, it meant the campus was quietCollapse )

drinking the otp kool-aid [userpic]
i can actually hear moonsheen typing in the next room...
by drinking the otp kool-aid (pocky_slash)
at October 20th, 2006 (05:15 am)

current mood: uncomfortable

There is a lot of Anderson Cooper in Danny's character in this story.

(From fabula una: in which Danny is a cable news anchor and Alan is a science journalist.)


It wasn't until he had slammed the door shut that he realized that was probably not the best action to take if he really wanted to fly under the radar. It only took Felicity five minutes to knock hesitantly on his door.

"Hey," she said with a forced smile once Alan pulled the door open. "I heard you come in."

"Yeah," he muttered. He crossed the room and slumped into his chair, not even bothering to gesture her inside. Felicity was a smart girl--she knew enough to follow. She knew enough to tell him to tread lightly with Danny Stevens, too, and, in a moment of genius, he had apparently chosen to ignore her.

"Where's the baby?" she asked, once she was seated across from him.

"At my dad's," he muttered. He didn't even bother to feign work; his laptop remained closed on his desk and he ignored the stack of files in his inbox. "When we started yelling last night... she might not know what we're saying, but she can tell when we're angry. Dad swung by and picked her up, which left me to, you know, get drunk and cry on my own after I chased Danny away."

There was a resounding silence, broken only by Felicity shifting in her chair, the squeak of the faux-leather, the rustle of her skirt.

"I told you--" she started to say, but cut herself off before she could finish. "That's not what I mean," she amended. "It's just... that's Danny Stevens. The Danny Stevens you see on teevee? That's who he is. He decides, when he's scared, when he's bored, when he's restless, when he's upset, to throw himself into something else. To throw himself into a genocide or a revolution or a famine. He skips town, reports from a third world country no one has ever heard of, and convinces himself he's making a difference. That what he's doing is more important than this lavish life he leads in New York. That's Danny, Alan, and he's terrified right now. He's scared shitless of you, and this is what's going to happen until you work things out."

Alan wouldn't look at her.

"We can't," he said quietly. Despair was slick in his throat and he had to swallow before he could continue. "I try. I've tried incredibly hard to make this right, Felicity, but he can't--he won't choose between me and Keerthi and his job. He thinks he has to. And we're second to third world countries right now. I don't want my daughter to grow up with that. It's bad enough that I'm gone half the time. I don't want her to grow up with a parent who runs to Nigeria if he's not comfortable with the fact that she's graduating from pre-school."

"He's a workaholic," she said.

"No," Alan corrected. "He's a coward."

drinking the otp kool-aid [userpic]
by drinking the otp kool-aid (pocky_slash)
at October 6th, 2006 (11:32 pm)

current mood: sick

hi, internet!


"I'll see you on Monday, Mr. Pratchett! Have a good weekend!"

Alan forced a smile as he checked Cassie Winthrop's name off of the field trip roster that he was starting to hate with every ounce of strength left within him. After five days in Boston with forty incredibly intelligent, incredibly self-aware eleventh graders, Alan was reaching the end of his patience and also the end of his ability to stand without leaning heavily against the wall.

Cassie was the last name on his luggage list, and with her bags collected, he was finally free to grab his own and head across campus to his apartment. Beaumont Academy was located on ten acres of some of the most beautiful half-forested Vermont land that Alan had ever seen, and at that moment he was loathing every square inch of it at the thought of treking all the way over to the faculty housing on the far side of the property.

"Why don't you make your kids call you 'Dr. Pratchett?'"

Danny. Oh god, it was Danny. Alan was trying to hold back any immediate judgment--for all he knew, Danny was here to tell him that their cat died--but he couldn't restrain himself from dropping his clipboard on the ground and nearly jumping on top of the other man.

"Please tell me you brought the car," Alan pleaded, leaning heavily on Danny's shoulders.

"I'm serious," Danny said, continuing his previous line of thought. "You have like, nine million post graduate degrees. It would be nice for the kids to acknowledge them, don't you think?"

If you didn't bring the car, I am leaving you right now.Collapse )

Moonsheen [userpic]
by Moonsheen (moonsheen)
at October 4th, 2006 (12:50 am)

more stiltzkin. should just write this, damnit.Collapse )

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