And Introducing Kristian Nairn As Hodor

I thought this was pretty funny, and well-made too. Game of Thrones show intro as if it was an '80s or '90s show recorded onto a VHS tape.

Fireflies - Day Twelve (Live-Blogging A Story)

Woohoo.  I'm going for it.  It's Independence Day today, and I should probably be out celebrating and having a good time, and I'll get to that later, but this morning, I wrote some more on my story.  Rish said on Facebook that he was at 11,380 in his story, and if I wrote today, I'd probably pass him by, since he would be out enjoying himself.  Well, I guess that was all the motivation I needed.  I wrote 1,172 words today, making my story a grand total of 12,066 words (although I think the word count tool is counting each of my "END OF DAY ELEVEN" proclamations, so it's probably closer to 12,000 even.

Anyway, here's words:

Photo provided by: s58y Creative Commons I added the title and border.

VIII

It was one of those days that he would have remembered forever as one of the best days of his life.  Trevon had never been so cute as he was when he was toddling shakily around the dark rooms lined with fish tanks.  He was too small to know what was supposed to be neat and what was just ho-hum, so he marveled at everything, from the sharks, octopuses and dolphins to the shimmering schools of tropical fish all the way down to the eels, anemones, and worms.

Oscar and Simi couldn’t help but laugh out loud each time Trevon pointed, made a big ‘O’ shape with his mouth, and loudly shouted, “Woah!”  And when it was feeding time, he shouted lustily every time one of the bigger fish pounced on a smaller one and devoured it.  They felt like the luckiest people in the world to have such a beautiful, happy baby to call their own.  Dozens of people stopped them to comment on how cute their little boy was, and those that didn’t stop them still smiled and chuckled to themselves when they saw his antics.  He was simply darling, irresistibly darling.

Once they’d finally seen all the sea creatures, birds, and reptiles the aquarium had to offer, they headed back out to the car, strapped Trevon into his carseat, and headed home to relax for the rest of the afternoon.  It was a Saturday, so the traffic was light on the drive home.  In no time, they were back in their driveway.  Before getting out, Oscar leaned over the center console and kissed Simi on the forehead.  She raised her head and gave him a long, soulful kiss on the mouth.  It was the natural response to a day so happy.  They were both so content with the family that they had.  A beautiful, vivacious wife.  A loving, nurturing father.  A darling cherub of a child.

The two of them separated, opened their doors, and got out of the car.  And were knocked to the ground by the flailing tentacle of the enormous creature that had been swimming through the air behind their car.  They both hit the ground with a breath-crushing thud, and rolled to see the newest nightmare that their perfect little son had conjured from his REM state.  

It wasn’t any one thing, but more like a little of all things.  Pretty much every creature they’d seen at the aquarium had a piece attached somewhere to this creature, from the spiny starfish to the stingrays to the crocodiles.  And it was huge.  It was at least the size of a house, its tooth-laden maw was big enough to swallow their entire Audi in one bite.  Trevon may not have grown past toddling yet, but his dreams had grown way, way too big for their britches.

The pattern that they had worked out over the last several months was to turn to the nightstand at this point, grab the air horn, and blast it to wake Trevon up.  But they were outside, where there were no horns, and Trevon was still in the car, which would probably protect him from sound enough anyway.  Instead, he had to get that car open, and shout that baby awake before this behemoth caused some serious damage.

Oscar jumped to his feet and raced to the back door of the car.  Pulling the handle, he found that it did nothing.  The door was locked.  He tried the front door and it was locked too.  How could that be possible?  He’d just come out of the door only seconds before.  He turned ask Simi for the keys, when the creature slammed into the large Eucalyptus tree in their side yard, ripping it it from the ground as effortlessly as a person would pull a weed.  The tree crashed to the ground, as Oscar flinched, and reflexively covered his head to protect it.

The tree fell streetward, which was a very good thing for both Oscar and Simi.  It was a towering tree, and would have crushed either or both of them, whether they covered their heads or not.  The tree clipped the neighbor’s Lexus as it crashed down, crumpling the trunk, and slammed into the earth with enough force to make the ground shake beneath Oscar’s feet.  He had to move fast, or things would only get worse.

“Simi,” he called, “where are the keys?  The car is locked somehow.”

She looked at him with dazed, unfocused eyes.  Her hair, cinched in a tight neat bun moments earlier, was loose and frazzled, and a trickle of blood ran from her right nostril.  He could tell she didn’t know what was going on, and might not even be able to say who he was.  The bump she took from the creature when they’d gotten out of the car must have been much stronger than the one he’d suffered.

He ran to her side, diving to the ground as a long, spiny octopus-like tentacle and flapping stingray-like wing passed through the space he had been occupying.  He took her by the shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position.  She looked very pale, whiter than he’d ever seen her.

“Simi,” he looked into her eyes, they didn’t seem to be looking back, “where are the keys.  You just had them in your hands.  Where are they?”

She was gone.  Shock, and probably head trauma, had rendered her catatonic.  He wanted to shake her to snap her out of her trance, but from what he’d heard about concussions on NFL broadcasts shaking her would only make the problem worse.  He needed those smelling salts that he’d seen coaches hold under the noses of dazed players, but of course he had none.

    He looked up at the creature to make sure it wasn’t too close.  It didn’t even seem to know that they were there.  It was merely playing.  Swimming through the air as if it were water, swirling, cavorting, and dancing.  It seemed to have the energy of a happy dolphin at feeding time.  As he watched, it knocked over another tree across the street, toppling it into the house it had stood proudly in front of for at least fifty years.  Then it turned their way.

The creature passed above them, a flipper-like tail batting at the air.  Oscar grabbed Simi and ducked back to the ground.  She cried out in pain, and rolled to the side, grabbing at her hip.  Oscar looked to see what it had been, and saw that it was her keychain.  She must have landed on it when she fell, and, in a fluke, pressed the button on the key fob that locks the doors with her body.

He snatched the keychain up, and jammed his finger on the unlock button.  He heard a click from the car next to them, and dragged himself to his feet to yank open the back door, and wake up his son.  Only he never got that far.

END OF DAY TWELVE

I could have kept going, but this seemed like a fun cliffhanger to leave you on.

Smash

I guess it's Hulk hands day.

This is funny stuff. I gotta post the Hulk Hands rap.

Adult Collectors

This is pretty good, and the car stuff is just awesome.

Fireflies - Day Eleven (Live-Blogging A Story)

711 new words today, bringing my total to 10, 895.  It's actually probably coming pretty close to the finish here, I think.  Chapter 11 or 12 may well be the last chapter.  I'm not sure.  I know how the story goes more or less, but I'm also pantsing this one a lot too.

Anyway, here's today's words:

Photo provided by: s58y Creative Commons I added the title and border.

VII

The air horn thing worked pretty well for them.  Siri used it to chase off a giant teddy bear.  Oscar used it dispel a new round of fireflies.  After several occurrences, though, they were no closer to understanding what triggered the true dreams.  They happened very infrequently, which may have been the worst part about it.  

Every night, Oscar and Simi put their son to bed with dread in their hearts.  Most nights, it wasn’t realized, but that didn’t make the dread go away.  They got sick more often, and their doctor informed the both of them that their blood pressure had gone up considerably.  Both of them began putting on weight.  For Simi, the weight seemed to only collect in all the right places, but Oscar had to start sucking in his breath when he did up his pants, and an all new, unsightly paunch hung over his beltline when he was done.  Living under the constant stress of what might happen when they went to bed each night was taking a big toll on the two of them.

Their night fears didn’t haunt them during the day, though.  Despite the fact that they probably should feel resentment and anger towards their child, they did not.  Maybe it was just the natural parental feelings of protectiveness and unconditional love, or maybe it was that Trevon was an extra cute baby, but the daytime with Trevon was all happiness.  It was only when the dusk began to descend over the city that the fear and stress settled on them.

It was after Oscar had been forced to drive off a blanket monster that was intent on suffocating him in its folds with the air horn that the thought that it was all Trevon’s fault first entered his mind.  He immediately berated himself for blaming his innocent baby.  But, sitting there, panting as his adrenaline slowly settled back to normal levels, he couldn’t banish the thought entirely.

If Trevon were older, they could talk with him, and find out what was going on in his head, in his dreams when his dream monsters manifested in real life.  But he was just a gurgling little anklebiter.  He could crawl and cruise, and was beginning to take some hesitant steps away from the furniture he was clinging to before falling down hard on his diaper-padded butt, but he couldn’t talk.  He couldn’t even say one word, much less string enough together to make a sentence and be truly understood.  Sentences were perhaps as far away as two years, and knowing enough words to make those sentences really communicate something was even farther out.

Yet the ability to create monsters out of the ether while he slept was already present and accounted for.  The ability to terrorize his parents with the vomit his subconscious spewed forth in the form of dreams and nightmares was already well-developed.  They had no idea how or why Trevon had this ability.  They had no idea how it could be controlled, or even if it could.  They didn’t know whether it would be a lifelong gift, or something that would fade as he grew older like colic does.  But Oscar did know one thing, Trevon was the source of this horror, and it was ruining his life, Simi’s too, he supposed.  They’d be so much better off if they’d never had him.

Again his mind balked.  No, that wasn’t true.  They wouldn’t be better off.  They might not have this issue to face, but they would be missing so much joy that he brought to their lives too.  The happiness was so great that it outweighed the misery.  He really felt that.  And besides, Trevon was his son.  It was his duty and his honor to care for him, protect him, and provide him with safety and security.  How dare he even entertain thoughts like that!

They would be fine carrying on with things as they were.  The blanket monsters, giant teddy bears, fireflies, and false Simis all fled at the sound of the air horn.  It was working, and would continue to for as long as it was necessary.

At least, that’s what he thought before that day they went to the Golden Gate Aquarium.

Anklecast #18

It's been a while...a very long while, but it's back! The Anklecast makes a triumphant return...well, a return anyway...in which Big Anklevich invites a special guest, one Rish Outfield, to join him and discuss this whole live-blogging-a-story-event that they are in the middle of. Enjoy!

Right click HERE to download the episode, select Save Link As, and save the file to your hard drive.

Subscribe to the Anklecast in iTunes

Photo Courtesy of Molly Marshall, cropped by me.

Fireflies - Day Ten (Live-Blogging A Story)

Okay, still going.  That's a good thing right?  I'm still writing, which is way better than I usually do.  This story is getting up there in size, and I'm still decently far from finishing it I think.  Today I wrote 840 words, getting me to 10,194 in total.  I think I'll be awfully close to Novella length before it's done, but I might not quite make it.  We'll see.

Anyway, here's today's words:

Photo provided by: s58y Creative Commons I added the title and border.

“He’s from that Yo Gabba Gabba show.  You saw it.”

Oscar raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“He’s the big orange guy with one eye.  You didn’t notice him?”

Oscar shook his head.  “Sorry, I wasn’t watching it that closely.”

“Well, that thing that was in Trevon’s bedroom was a lot like Muno.  He wasn’t totally the same.  Muno doesn’t have spikes all over him for one, they’re just bumps, but otherwise, it was really similar.”

“So, I got this gash from today’s equivalent to the Cookie Monster?”

Simi nodded.

“Holy shit, does that mean what I think it means, Simi?”

Simi nodded again.

When they made it to Seton Med Center, they told the doctor that his gash had come from when he had slipped and accidentally put his hand through a glass window.  They cleaned and dressed his wound, and gave him six stitches.  He was given a round of oral antibiotics, and directions for cleaning and changing his dressings over the next couple of weeks while it healed.  Muno did not enter into the conversation at all.

VI

From that day forward, they watched Trevon very carefully as he slept.  Some how, some way, all this stuff was coming from his mind while he slept, from his dreams.  Everytime there had been an event, it had always ended when Trevon woke up.  At first they were harmless things, because he had no experience with anything else.  It was just colors before he was born, blobs of light when he was a newborn, soft round shapes as he grew a little more, and now, children’s television nightmares.

They didn’t know what caused it to happen though.  It didn’t happen every night, or even often.  There seemed to be months in between bouts, except for the one time when it had happened at naptime and bedtime of the same day.  They needed to make sure that it didn’t happen again, because it had gotten dangerous.  Maybe it wouldn’t be dangerous again, but Oscar was inclined to believe that it would only become more dangerous the more Trevon grew and learned about what dangers were out there in the world.

They couldn’t prevent him from sleeping though.  Sleeping was as necessary as eating, drinking, breathing and the like.  They just had to watch him, and wake him if anything happened as soon as possible.  They had to get him to an age of reason, get through this until he was old enough that they could explain to him what was happening and work on ways to keep it from happening again.  Otherwise, they’re little darling baby was a very dangerous person indeed.

Trevon’s crib moved back into their bedroom, and Oscar bought a bunch of air horns, and left them all around the house including one on each of their night stands.  He assumed it would be a quick and easy way to wake Trevon up in a hurry.  He tested it out that night, and it certainly worked.  The baby was crying in seconds after he blasted the horn.  He had hope that this was going to work, and it did for a while.

Oscar’s arm was completely healed, and the stitches removed before the next time one of Trevon’s dreams came true.  They had banned him from TV after the incident with Muno in an attempt to restrict his apparitions to a more garden variety.  It worked this first time at least.  One Friday night in late January, Oscar was deep, deep asleep, when Simi shook him awake.  He opened his eyes to find her standing next to the bed, bent over him.  He blinked again and again, trying to shake the sleep from his eyes, and his head.

“What is it?” he asked.

She didn’t answer.  She just stood up straight, and continued looking at him.  As the sleep dropped away from him, he realized that something was wrong with Simi.  Her face was wrong.  It was soft, and lacking in detail, as if it were being seen through one of those pantyhose filters they always put over the lens in old black and white Joan Crawford and Katherine Hepburn movies and the like.  And the eyes, they weren’t spaced right.  The nose was larger than it should be.  So was the mouth, that was much larger.  Oscar’s breath stopped and his heart leaped into his throat.  

He was filled with an intense revulsion that sent shivers down his spine.  

He was looking at some sort of body snatchers version of his wife, a shape-shifter disguised as the love of his life.

“What are you?” he hissed, casting his eyes about for a weapon to use against this thing, this not-Simi.  He slid away from it on the bed, and his hand, then his but fetched up against something.  The thing he’d hit groaned, and rolled over.  It was the real Simi.

And with that, his mind cleared enough to know what was happening.  He grabbed the air horn, and blasted it straight in the apparition’s face.  It was enough to ruffle its hair in the wind before it vanished with a yelp that came both from the crib and from Simi who was no longer sleeping next to him.

“Oscar?” Simi said, waking up, “was it a dream?”

“Yeah,” he said, standing up and going to the crib to pick up the crying baby.  “It was horrible.”

END OF DAY TEN