Electronic Bowlercade Instructions

audrey_darko @ 2008-07-21T14:53:00



Title: Art for Art's Sake
Fandom: Placebo
Characters: Mainly Helena Berg, and to some (minimal) extent Brian Molko
Party: 1 / 1
Rating: R
Note: An RPF a bit 'unusual. It seems more like an original, to be honest (with AU is always a bit 'so, is not it XD?) ... So, I assume is usable also to those who saw the RPF as the wool over the eyes XD!



springs of the chair of the shabby living room Helena moans of disappointment when he dropped dead weight on the crumpled pillow decorated wearily with her faded floral print.
was as if the mobile complained of tiredness the same girl who was taking advantage of.
Helena that day was literally in pieces.
sighed, clasped his temples with his fingers, circular massage hoping to sweep away the headaches that plagued incipient.
empty gesture: the girl was only too aware that the pain would soon be light resulted in excruciating headache. Despite
her feet, cries of protest, Helena slowly rose from his seat to go to the small kitchen of her apartment.
such space, when illuminated by light of a sun now too close to the horizon, one detail in particular caught the attention of the girl. A basket
placed carefully on the table filled to the brim and shiny red apples.
Despite being exhausted, could not suppress a smile before the show.
a Caravaggio still life lost in the steel that prevailed in the squalid kitchen for which the tenant was paying too much. A drop
art drowned nell'untuosa pool of the surrounding reality. Almost the
sorry when it came to dismantle the perfect balance of those balls to steal a red and shiny.
He bounces the apple in the palm a couple of times, absently, and left the room to return to stay.
completely bypasses the lure that worn armchair and sofa were offering to his aching legs to stop in front of a wall of the environment. A very special ...
wall
The wallpaper can hardly be more discernible, it was covered by dozens of photos: small or large, in color or black and white as they were, the subject was only ever represented a , and one of the best photo prominently in all its glory.
A man engrossed in some kind of thoughts that led it to assume a strangely angry.
Helena smiled again.
He loved that look on his face.
eyelids lowered, two fans of black lashes shown towards his cheekbones, lips bent in a concentrated grimace. The black and white
extrapolated that figure from each fascinating temporal context, making it unreal, perfect and eternal.
Helena had no trouble thinking that beauty was really the only existing form of genius, as he had so often read about his favorite novel.
He had evidence before our eyes at that very moment.


It was funny the way the case was delivered on a silver platter that splendid appearance, potentially transforming one of the darkest days of his life in a moment of epiphany exciting.
As every morning, she went to the headquarters of the tabloid at which reluctantly worked (underpaid) as a photographer. It was not to show off
sterile Helena snobbery that he cared to point out to anyone to be forced by various factors to be a paparazzo, but only to distance himself from that activity which in his opinion devalue the content of the art of photography.
stop time. Embellish the moment captured, decking again by their emotions, their memories.
Give an event a point of view seemingly impersonal.
Why even climate change, a ray of light in a more or less could help to provide an entirely different interpretation of the photographed subject. But
photographing celebrities known more or less did not any of that.
The lives of those people appeared blurred, coarse, vulgar and ugly from the intrusive telephoto who hated to handle that.

That day her boss called her into his office for the usual, boring, annoying lecture about their incompetence and lack of dedication to work and threatened with a chubby finger pointing at his nose:
- you know what ... I do not like these artsy failure of your whims, Berg. Began in earnest on my nerves .-
Helena had straightened the spine rigid determination to deal with that being revolting.
- artsy? Maybe. But failure never, sir .- said the girl perhaps with a little emphasis, which drew a laugh of derision from his interlocutor before he was able to replicate between a sob or the other: - Yeah, yeah ... If you could quit groped the theatrical career, you know? Surely you would have more hope of becoming a professional photographer ... actress -
- Believe me, I I am fully aware ... Otherwise I'd still be here .- Helena hissed sarcastically, looking down on their shoes - worn and furrowed with tiny pleats at the tip, black witnesses to the misery in which to pay - not to be forced to lay in his eyes porcini employer, who by then was hoisted from his chair from fatigue which usually seemed unable to approach unstuck, albeit slightly, the girl, whispering insinuating tone - the tone of his usual manic pig debauched by insinuating and slimy: - And to think that I have so many skills in the field ... If you just decide to be a bit 'nicer to me ... I could try -
- Do not add a word .- Helena silenced him almost snarling, in a fit of disgust.
could not bear that were so every fucking time. He hated his way to breath on her neck, her way of debasing his aspirations and expectations, trying to barter with the easy sex.
not stand it anymore.
- You think you're in the right position to dictate, Helena ...? - The man smiled sweetly, reaching out a hand to weave her fingers through her hair darker stout young man had no time to retreat, when the slap of Helena flashed to hit a ruddy cheek, weighed down by all the anger and the strength that she had managed to gather from every corner of the his body.
Pop sound of the gesture seemed the most terrifying noise I had ever heard in his life.
was not even remotely comparable to that "do not come back in this building, two-bit whore," with which that gentleman was dismissing the director at that time.
... never had seemed an insult to have a sweeter sound.

A group of children playing on the slide, dusty, with skinned knees and a permanent smile on the faces serene and sweaty.
Helena, sitting on a bench not far away, smiled despite himself faced with the spectacle of joy and happiness, pats his camera as if it were a cat has fallen asleep on his lap.
was supposed to be tense, sad and worried about his future, because he had lost the only glimmer of (albeit sordid and repulsive) stability in his life, not to mention its only source of livelihood, as was lean ... But trying to sift her emotions to find any trace of negativity, Helena could not find even a crumb: was anesthetized by a feeling of freedom that pervaded all in a moment of pure happiness and crystalline.
A childish happiness, like those kids over there.
The girl bowed her head, closing his eyes was all right for now so.
Indeed, with a nice cappuccino in Starbucks, which was opposite the entrance to the park would have been even better.


With the now almost empty glass of cappuccino in hand, Helena walked with slow steps to the sidewalk, enjoying the freshness of the clear warm day in late winter and looking around, curious from time to time by a different detail: the bum funny that putting up a sign for the charity that said in large letters: "I need money to eat, with buttons and coin-operated telephone not do anything, thanks!" The cat spotted in red, black, gray and white dozing on his back on the sill of a The window ...
thin man dressed in black stood in front of a huge door, lighting a cigarette with indifferent expression.
The sun shone in full, designed with the features for its light and smooth and the contrast between his pale complexion and impeccably dressed, hair and glasses completely blacks.
Helena turned to watch it again, after having passed on its way.
Bello. Not NonPlusUltra of masculinity, but really nice, and certainly aware of it.
short, seemed to have put a pose, as if waiting for a moment to be immortalized in pictures ... It was not an insecure person attitude.
... maybe it was a model?
Well, to be honest did not believe that his stature was enough to hire him as a model for a fashion agency.
A pity, because it probably had to be very photogenic. Helena
Without noticing, the fingers of her free hand had clawed the camera wearing a strap, in a wetsuit and unmistakable demand.
The light was good ... He seemed unaware of his presence, continuing to smoke his cigarette half between now and the other a shot ... just guess the time when there were not too many people in between their two ...
Helena felt the rise in frenzy is ceaselessly inside her.
drank the last sip of cappuccino remained in the plastic cup and then throw it in a basket beside her.
He removed the lens cap, firmly grasp the device with both hands ...
Clicks!


Dipped in reddish light of the closet in the apartment used as a darkroom, Helena waited impatiently for the man's face emerges from the waves of the tank where she had drowned the little rectangle of paper that would soon be turned into a real photo proper.
Here it is, "said the girl is elated when the picture finally became clear.
him, in all its glory.


Thus, under the strange crimson glow of the room, called a mixture of chemical compounds, had come to light in what many might define their own obsession.
Certainly that attraction had all the typical features.
knew nothing about him. But nothing.
The only result that was obtained from its amateurish stalking was that practically every day, at the same time, he went out the front door of the building, he lit his cigarette good, consumed in five minutes at most, and then went back inside, to make only God knew.
The rest had to find out through newspapers and radio stations that usually listened (Given its total disregard for the cathode ray tube).
knew that he was not famous. Even suspected it.
He accused the strange sense of familiarity that inspired her features to something much more "dignified", much more ethereal and subtle ...
She had recognized her as his muse.
As if it had always known, as if her heart had accelerated its beats the first time I met him to let you know that ... It was him.
had elected him as its greatest source of artistic inspiration ...
... trovarselo flat-spotted on the cover of a weekly tabloid was a little 'a disappointment, as a result. Discovering that his
was passed over in the face of a telephoto lens distorted by the paparazzi had blood boil with rage in his veins, although I understand what was irritated by something silly like that.
But his Muse had been disfigured and flattened, and could not help but feel that feeling angry inside.
So he continued to photograph the man from different angles, with different filters and devices that they cost so much, perhaps too much.
But giving up lunch or dinner had never seemed so easy, in exchange for the perfect shot, in exchange for the artist with the capital "A".
Each flicker of his eye, every crease taken from his lips he spoke of a different state of mind, and every new picture she seemed to know him better ...
When he failed to associate his face to his voice, thought he had finally captured in all its essence.
The perfect picture combined with the perfect voice: detached, and a little 'narcissist like him ....


Helena returned to the present, and his ruby-colored apple that still shone faintly in the last glow of twilight, who was running away from the living room.
not turned on the light, the darkness seemed more appropriate to match a companion to his thoughts, even if away from him and prevented it ...
On the other hand was accustomed to remain shadows her.
was his job, and did not mind that much.
may also arise from the darkness beautiful things, thought Helen with a slight melancholy smile.
If there was the darkness would be impossible to see the stars.
The girl went to the wall of photos, their eyes still on the same as before.
reached out a hand and his fingers glided like feathers on the cheek in a caress useless man, because he would never have felt on his skin.
His skin ... That consistency has ever had?
And his eyes? From life will shine the same light that showed off on the film?
not had a response to those questions ... But she had never imported before.
Maybe it was just fatigue, maybe it was just those damn legs swollen and painful, maybe it was the fact that this apartment, as her heart, she had never seemed so empty and dark ... But without any star in which they can offer their color as the background. The apple fell
hand, rolling into the far corner of the room, but there tended much.
Art, the Muse, the perfect shot ... That evening seemed to really just stale and useless inventions, faced with the desire that was taken to touch, taste, caress him ... Brian. For once he would have called by his name.
Helena sat down slowly on the ground, and had the feeling of being immersed in that way slowly into the deeper darkness of his house.
was how he would spend his life? Lost in the darkness of that apartment rickety, reassuring in the dark and alienating the pigeon from which witnessed the ridiculous sham of his daily life?
- No. - Needed
to say it out loud, for really believe ...
- No. -
... and had to repeat it once more, to understand that ...
- No. -
... it was true. That his life would not have remained so, that would end the ineffectual stasis forever from - Why not? - That night.
start again from scratch is not frightened her, because she knew what would be his starting point ... And its arrival point.
He stood up, straining for a glimpse of the view of the weak spot of milky man's face, his ex-Musa drawn against the wall that was getting darker with each passing minute, and defiantly raised his chin, exclaiming: - will fascinate you, Brian Molko .- After
reached out to the nearby main switch of the chandelier, and finally the light lit.

Template Service Hour Log

audrey_darko @ 2008-07-16T22:42:00



Title: Things to men
Fandom: Original
Characters: Two friends in the mood for stupid challenges, basically XD!
Party: 1 / 1
Rating: PG


You really are an idiot.
Yes, even if you're my best friend, even if you know for centuries now, and I learned to adapt easily to any sharp edges of your character, I am compelled to admit it ... You are undoubtedly, unquestionably an idiot.
Sure, most of the times are good, dear and kind to everyone you're close, but enough that someone dares to question your ability in any field that now your male instinct predator emerges from the depths of the cave your subconscious and makes you act like a ... well, there are other ways to say it: an idiot.
And here you are, so ... Red, panting and furious as a snake, while you strive to prove to the nth time that you can do it, nobody can afford to insinuate that you are not able to ...
Oh, I can not even look at you ... Damn my big mouth when he had the "brilliant" idea to challenge you to make this !
But look ... You're ridiculous!
Stop it, God!
face the facts!
... you'll never get that inflate condom, Jesus Christ!

Foundation For Fair Skin

Well...Let's try again!

Oh, my God, it's been a long time since I've written something on this bloody useless space, isn't it?
Well, there is a good reason : I don't know what to do with this poor, little LJ.
I mean, I am just like one of those terrible, spoiled, I-want-everything-that-I-see kids that annoy their mothers to have the ultimate cool toy on the shelf of the shop ( mhm, not so flattering at all - it seems that I like to punish myself XD! ).
So, this LJ is the toy.
Of course, it's not that I am sooooo unbearable as a person....I could be a cute, little, tender girl if I want *smiles innocently*....
...the problem is that most of the time I don't want to.



Scared, aye? Don't worry, this post is just a lot of crappiness indeed.....But I am bored, and when I am bored I do stuff like this.
Forgive me ;)!

                                                                                                                          *Audrey Darko*