August Event: How You Remind Me

[fiction]

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STRICKLY NON-CANNON

POINTS CURRICULUM:

[/b] 1000 for 80 points (25+ for every 200 words you exceed)
#Creativity: Depending on how creative I find your post, 0-100 points
#Emotional Response: Whether you make me bawl my eyes out or just make me even the littlest bit happy, I may give out 0-100 points.
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STORY:
On a fairly normal, straight forward day, a day that seems about as normal as any other in Death City, takes a little turn into the weird, but maybe not so wonderful. After some play of fate, or chance, whatever your character believes, they meet someone a little unusual. They seem perfectly normal, act perfectly normal, but you can't shake the feeling you've seen them before. By some weird play of paradoxes, or whatever else you might believe it to be, this person is them but of the opposite gender. How do they interact with each other? What differences are their between them, or are they the best of buddies?

EVENT ENDS AUGUST 31st SOMETIME

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♫ If you go out in the woods today
You're sure of a big surprise.
If you go out in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise.

For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic.

Picnic time for teddy bears,
The little teddy bears are having a lovely time today.
Watch them, catch them unawares,
And see them picnic on their holiday.
See them gaily dance about.
They love to play and shout.
And never have any cares.
At six o'clock their mommies and daddies
Will take them home to bed
Because they're tired little teddy bears.

If you go out in the woods today,
You'd better not go alone.
It's lovely out in the woods today,
But safer to stay at home.

For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic

You're sure of a big surprise.
If you go out in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise.

For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic.

Every teddy bear, that's been good
Is sure of a treat today
There's lots of wonderful things to eat
And wonderful games to play

Beneath the trees, where nobody sees
They'll hide and seek as long as they please
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic

You're sure of a big surprise.
If you go out in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise.

For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic. ♫

The rythmic sound of feet marching pervaded the forest, setting the tempo for the song that blared out into the open sky. The trees and other foliage were parted by the leader of the troupe, who wore a smile on his face and a cape on his shoulders. His lanky frame was clad in a delightfully pressed purple shirt, which ended with frills around the cuffs. It was made from the finest silk available in Germany, which was to say, very fine silk indeed. Its buttons were white in colour, although one could not obtain that information for covering the majority of the shirt was a brown tweed jacket. Freshly pressed and also obtained in Germany, it made its wearer look very dapper indeed. Brown circles of plastic fastened the cuffs, out of which protruded the frills from the silk shirt. Around the leader's neck was a black cravat, also made from silk; decorated with swirls and splatters of colour, as if an entire firework display were taking place within the cloth that rested upon his scruff. Matching his jacket were brown trousers with courduroy knee patches; the particular motif being that of a teapot. Fitting, of course, with the trance like music that permeated throughout the forest in which they marched. Completing his attire was a brown top hat, which had a felt inner mesh for just that little extra piece of comfort. Around its middle was a purple sash, tucked neatly within which was a piece of crisp white paper, folded exactly three times. Twirling within the leader's hand was a black cane, which was crowned with a pinkish-purple jewel; perhaps an amethyst, or garnet, or quartz. From the way the leader twirled the cane, it was hard to place one's bets on one of the gemstones. And as the leader of the troupe twirled his cane in time to the music, one would wonder what exactly was going on.

But of course, just listening to the music would answer that question.

They were having a picnic!~

Well, that wasn't strictly true; they were having a tea party. And that information would prompt the recognisation of the leader of the troupe. Of course, it was Maximillian Fowst-Dursley. Of course it was! How could you not tell from the pale blue hair, stark red eyes, and tea related items? At any rate, he lead the troupe of bears through the forest, the music coming from unseen speakers, twirling his cane with much joy. Eventually, he found a place that he deemed suitable for them to stop. It was a verdant clearing; with the flat grass being bordered by multiple varieties of vine and moss. Flower petals lay abundant on the ground. The scent of roses was in the air, mixed with the almost palpable electrical charge of excitement. A wordless command was given to stop marching, and the bears did so automatically; as if they shared a hive mind, and were robots. A smile claimed Max's features, as he removed his top hat with a flourish. It would seem that underneath there was more space than at first glance, for there, on the meister's head, sitting pristinely and totally not conspicuously at all, was a teapot.

The white china shone in the green tinted light that found its way to the forest clearing. Its one motif was that of a purple fleur-de-lis on the lid. From the fluted spout wisps of steam probed its way into the mid-morning air, lost in an enchanting dance before fading into the aether. Max took the tea pot from his head, holding it firmly in one hand. An elated smile spread across his face as he placed the top hat down on the floor. The moment the fabric touched the grass and petals, a long banquetting table sprung from underneath it, taking up the diameter of the clearing; not exceeding the vegetation boundary by even an inch. Such exactness must have been down to magic, or something. Regardless, the table was there; adorned in a purple cloth, which was decorated in an array of fleur-de-lis, however these were of a lighter shade than that of the main fabric. Along with the table were chairs made from mahogany. This particular appearing table came with crockery and cutlery, and so all one needed to do was sit down, unpack the food they had brought, and eat. The music, which had since died down, increased in volume again as everything was set.

♫ "If you go out in the woods today
You're sure of a big surprise.
If you go out in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise.

For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic." ♫

The bears moved again, their woven and fluff-filled legs eating up the distance between they and the table. One by one they took their seats, setting the hampers they carried upon the surface. Max went about filling cups with tea -- as one would expect from the so called "Lord" of the liquid. Out of the hampers came many foods assosciated with the meal they were about to have: tea cakes, scones, tubs of cream and jam, crumpets -- who could forget crumpets? -- and sandwiches. Types of tea also made their way into the mix, with Earl Grey, Lapsang, Bubble and Black all making their names heard. With mirth and chatter and much merriment, the tea party began.

Hordes of teddy bears that'd had their fill moved over to the side, pulling out sticks and hoops from their hampers. It would appear that today would be full of surprises, for Max hadn't planned on party games today. Sure, they were usually present at most of his parties, but out here in the forest where one could just sit back and enjoy the scenery such spirited actions were unecessary, surely? Not, apparently, to these bears at any rate. With smiles on their stitched faces, the teddy bears began to play. Wherever Max looked he could see hoops of plastic soaring through the air, some hitting their mark, others flying askew. Regardless of the results, the bears would cheer and sing another round of their song; coincidentally in time with the music.

♫ "If you go out in the woods today
You're sure of a big surprise.
If you go out in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise.

For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic." ♫

Max was left at the head of the table, it finally being his turn to indulge in the festivities. He picked up the nearest crumpet, scraped butter onto it and watched, contented, as the butter melted into it. Keeping a watchful eye on the bears as they played, he bit into the crumpet, rivulets of molten butter dripping out and into his mouth. The warmth invaded his senses, giving the so called "Lord of Tea" a fuzzy feeling inside. To be honest, he was loving this almost as much as his felt and fluff companions were...

~GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASP!~

A communal gasp overpowered the music, breaking the gleeful trance. All eyes, whether they were manufactured or organic, turned to the new comer. Their glares instantly waned at the sight though; their hate having been superseded by that of the person they looked at. A feeling of shock and fear had suddenly been injected into the party, flying true like an arrow; its poison working instantly; its effect being that of killing the party. The half-eaten crumpet fell to the floor.

Her.

Yes...she was here. She who, in Max's eyes, was the anti-christ. She who, in Max's eyes, had no purpose, except to antagonise he and all the tea loving people in the world. She who, in Max's eyes, was here to ruin the party!

Well...Max wasn't about to stand there and let that happen! He rose from his seat, breaking the silence. Any words that could have been said had been spoken long ago. He leaped onto the table with grace, miraculously managing not to break any crockery in doing so. She did the same, her perturbingly similar hair flailing behind her. All the bears stood stock still while this happened, on tentahooks. Max's hand flickered with purple lightning; his soul wavelength preparing to deal some damage. She did nothing but smirk as the distance between them grew ever smaller. Max thrust his hand forward in a punch, despite the lack of force behind it the sheer power of his soul was sure to send her reeling. However, she deftly flicked up a teapot, bringing a barrier between she and the attack. Flesh connected with china, sending hot tea and shards everywhere. He burned his hand, and cried out in pain, calling her every name under the sun. She never stopped running, her hands now laced with her own soul wavelength. What appeared to be lightning of a disturbingly similar shade to that which Max had brought forth danced on her razor sharp nails, before surging forward in a burst as they connected with his cravat and silk shirt clad chest. The cleaved his skin like a hot knife through butter, both of which, ironically, were adjacent to her foot. Max flew backwards, clattering into the meticulously laid out crockery and cutlery, marring his freshly pressed attire with the condiments for sweet foods. His head slammed into the solid oak that comprised the banquetting table, and his vision began to blur. He panicked, and started gasping for air which just wouldn't fill his lungs. He...he was dying?!

Her triumphant expression filled his gaze. His face contorted, wrought with emotion. The dam that had blocked the tears crumbled, and the blue cascade started with no intent of stopping while he still lived. He made no attempt to stop it, having envisioned his death as a rather sophisticated affair. A hand made a lame attempt to gather the crumpet from the floor. It was promptly stepped upon, she having not yet finished. A small smile formed on Max's lips. She was still as bitchy as ever. He locked eyes with her again. For all the knowledge he had acquired in his lifetime, there was one thing he still didn't know. Her name. She leaned down, her skin alive with soul wavelength still. The purple lightning sparked a bridge between she and the dying "Lord of Tea", and soon both their bodies were alive with the power of their two souls. If he'd had the heart, a puzzled expression would have claimed his features. Instead, he just lay still and let the world do with him what it wished. He could tell he had not long left. Her lips descended, finding their target with little trouble, and completing the circuit. Max wasn't ready yet...but later, later he'd be able to figure out the secrets of the book...later he'd be able to do this better than she ever could...

...Later.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

Max sat up. Had...had that really just happened? He wasn't sure. The last thing he remembered was having a fantastical tea party...although he had instinctively described it as fantastical, so it must have been a dream. But it had felt so real. Too real. This...this right now, it paled in comparison. This felt like his brain was half asleep, like he was processing things way too slowly for them to make sense. Where was he anyway? This certainly didn't feel like his linen sheets at home. And that smell...were those crumpets? It didn't matter. What mattered was his thumping headache. And the fact that he was in a forest. And that there were some girl versions of his clothing on the floor. And that there were a copius amount of teddy bears and rose petals. But...that had all been a dream.

Hadn't it?

♫ "If you go out in the woods today
You're sure of a big surprise.
If you go out in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise.

For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain, because
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic..." ♫

Word Count: 2252

[ashley]

Ashley didn’t really believe in miracles. For one he wasn’t of that particular mindset, and two, he didn’t really see how they were possible without a fairy or two. Even then he absolutely didn’t believe in fairies or any kind of magical gobbledegook that young children kind appealing. He knew enough to know they weren’t real, but held enough pride to not spoil the illusion for other young kids. He also doesn’t like to spoil the illusion of religion, even though he finds the entire concept really, really amusing. It’s his right, I suppose.
Ashley was raised in such a manner that he’s intellectual but with the common sense of a five year old skipping around a candy shop, although in this case is a shop full of bunnies; French lops, Flemish Giants, Lionheads, Cottontails, Volcano and Pygmies. It would be a shop that smelled primarily of sawdust.
Ashley had been up for around about five hours. He had Locco in his arms and people kept stopping to pet it. Some people would giggle as he passed but no notion ever occurred to him in his shield-o-love, filled with dreams of rabbits and the color white. His rather hyper demeanour was not easily broken, in fact, it was just who he was. He never dropped it or let it phase, because he couldn’t drop it. Every moment he is awake, he has the ability to go extreme on your ass with any emotion possible to the human brain. This makes him very, very un-masculine, however he doesn’t understand the context of the word.
What does being masculine mean? He asks himself.
It’s about being a man.
What does that mean in context? Is there any benefit from being masculine? I tried it once and nothing seemed to change.

He was walking down the street, dancing to his iPod, Locco looking severely un-happy, like a troll of sorts. She never looked happy, even if she was happy. She spent her days bounding around Ashley’s home, eating grass and inhumane over-portions of food. She wasn’t grateful, if a rabbit could be grateful. If she were human, she’d be the kind of person you don’t want to annoy, or they’ll never really like you ever again.
To Ashley, she was everything. He thought she was a bundle of happiness, and for him, yes. She made him happy. Although he couldn’t have a conversation with her or watch a play with her. That’s why he liked people; why he even bothered to talk to them. Because they could talk back. Although most of the time they never shared his likes and dislikes.
He needed someone like him to talk to, someone who could swoon over bunnies and science and art, and blabber and dance and go shopping with. A rather bizarre request from a very strange little boy.

The street was quiet, and he was heading in a bee-line towards the pet shop with a huge grin. It was a sight to see; everything he did was a spectacle and would be entertaining.
He walked into the shop, the owner looked and rolled his eyes with a rather annoyed friendliness. “We haven’t got any more rabbits in yet, Ashley,” he said, “Unless you want to look at the ones you looked at yesterday and the day before that.”

Ashley looked at him and smiled, "I love bunnies, sir, you know that." And with that he moved towards the rabbit pens, leaning down and putting Locco in with them. The big female Locco sniffed around, squeezing into a cardboard tube that would only just fit her. Ashley didn't seem to see the danger in that. He picked up a small kit, entirely white and good sized. It wasn't overweight like Locco was.
This one was well fed and healthy, energetic and fast. He could tell by looking at it. He wished Locco could be fast and fluffy, too. Unfortunately he still hadn't quite understood that he was feeding it way to much and should really start cutting down if he wanted Locco to stay mobile. Locco would take the lessening of food badly; nibbling on shoes and door frames and Nova's doodle books. Locco liked food. Locco would have food. She was like the typical overweight American of the bunny world, even though she was -in fact- a British born bunny.

"Hey!" The voice made Ashley bolt upright, letting the bunny plop back onto the floor. It hopped into the hutch and stayed there quietly. "That's my Pocco!”
A girl stood at the end of the aisle, her hands on her hips with a scowl on her face. She had short brown hair and large, green eyes. She was dressed in white and blue and was very skinny for her age, which probably about his age too.
Ashley blinked, unsure of what to think about this girl. He twiddled with his thumbs, leaning down finally and pulling Locco gently from the large cardboard pipe she was stuck in. He hugged her close and stepped away from the pen as the girl came forward, her face now a smile.
“You have a bunny, too?” she asked, scoping the white kit from the pen. Pocco and Locco sniffed each other, before withdrawing and becoming still apart from a twitch of the nose.
Ashley looked at the girl -just a little smaller than him- with an inquisitive flare. This girl was oddly… familiar, but he couldn’t quite place why. So he just went along with her. He stood and faced her with a new eagerness and held out his hand to shake hers.
“Hey! I’m Ashley Shaw, and this is Locco!”

The girl looked at Locco for a little. “She’s a bit fat isn’t she? Anyway, I’m, Yelhsa Wahs!” She smiled and shook his hand and then picking up her tiny bunny. She smirked and winked, skipping out of the shop. She avoided everything, and glided out.
Ashley followed suit, following her down the street. They talked and debated all the while. It was very peculiar for Ashley, seeing as this girl was so eager to get moving. She carried her bunny like he did, was built the same way and talked about the same things in the same pattern. Her voice was just slightly higher than his, and she was very average. Just like him, he supposed. The were distracted by the same obstacles; a book store, a music store, a hobo, a small child screaming and an awfully large dragonfly that was a peculiar colour of green. It had to be at least five inches long, and it was speedy, too. It darted around their heads like some kind of bullet with a brain.
It was a very beautiful animal, weaving in and out of the air like an extraterrestrial being come to survey the landscape.

They touched on the subject, mingling in the idea of intelligent aliens and that they may or may not be interested in Earth; why would they be and why wouldn’t they be. What would make Earth so exciting or boring or so utterly mundane. It was easy to throw up answers in the air like paper aeroplanes in a rowdy classroom somewhere in England’s worst school. They hadn’t an idea of what regular American schools were like; they were British, and they didn’t think that American schools would be different at all.
They knew the way Arabian schools worked, how their religion altered the learning experiences for different members of their society, and how the Japanese schools worked, the Russian etc.
They discussed the topic of myths; they tried o piece together in a corner coffee shop the evidence for and against Bigfoot, trying to work out then and there if the beast ever did exist, and if he did, why has he gone unnoticed for so long, bar Destination Truth?
“I’d like to meet Bigfoot one day,” he said to Yelhsa, “It would be cool! I’d have so much to ask him I don’t know where I’d start!”
Yelhsa had looked at him with a childish grin, shaking her head in defiance. She had told him that if Bigfoot existed, he wouldn’t speak English. Maybe Russian or some Eastern language of sorts. English wasn’t really common in off limits wildlife reserves of in the most remote part of Alaska.

They browsed through the same book, drank the same drink and ate the same food. They discussed their ideas on stars and talked about theatre and knitting and everything soft that made them happy. It was a very strange sight to see, and Ashley had just remembered that he’d missed work.
Yelhsa laughed and said the same thing. She worked at the book shop directly opposite Death Bucks, although she didn’t really do anything but still the boss kept her on.
Ashley smiled and said that he was in the same situation at his work.

Yelhsa giggled and laughed, the two exchanged rabbits for a while, skipping down to the forest, avoiding mud and dirt as if it were the next epidemic, or a virus that would turn them into zombies.

“This is fun, Yelhsa!” Ashley said in his choir voice tones. He rocked back and forth on a log, a bright smile across his face, hugging Pocco close to him. Pocco was much smaller than Locco, who was enjoying the lighter arms of Yelhsa, falling asleep quite quickly. Locco was a heavy sleeper, and once she nodded off there wasn’t really a way to wake her up unless it was on her own terms and conditions (applied). She would wake up, however, if Ashley waved a carrot under her nose for a good half hour.
She seemed to like that. Or she woke up within the allocated time and it seemed as if she was reacting -very delayed- to the carrot. The chances of that were fifty fifty, considering her very lackadaisical personality but her love of long orange things.

Yelhsa looked at Ashley and smiled. “I never thought I’d meet someone like me here,” she said softly. “I though no-one would understand they way I feel about rabbits or the theatre.”

Ashley smiled and nodded. “I didn’t expect to meet anybody like me either.” He looked at her with a softer smile, a gentle little shy smile.

Yelhsa smiled like that too. She shuffled closer to him, putting Locco down on the grass. The podgy rabbit flopped onto her side.
Ashley put Pocco down, who snuggled up with Pocco like a small child and their mother.
They talked some more about their parents and their deceased rabbits with whom they had loved and cared for. They debated the idea of millions upon millions of lively universes outside ad inside their own, living normally; an if eating food destroyed the universes within?

Ashley blushed more as Yelhsa held his hand, snuggling up to him gently. He smiled and laughed nervously.
“I like you, Ashley,” Yelhsa whispered, petting Locco with the back of her hand. She caught his eyes and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Ashley stayed dead quite, he didn’t know what to say to her, he was caught in a fish net of some metaphorical image but for what the metaphor was explaining, he couldn’t tell.

“I like you too, Yelhsa.”

“No, I mean I… I really, really like you.”

They looked at each other in a hushed surprise. Their minds raced and they thought along the same wavelength; is this what mummy and daddy feel? Is this the emotions that Professor Robot Tyrannosaurus Rex cannot feel (hehe, nice try).

They spoke at the same time, same tone, same pitch in utter harmony; “I think I love you.”
She kissed his cheek.

Then she was gone.

Word Count: 1962

[fiction]

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[/b][/color]
WORD COUNT[/i]
1'884 = 180 (I don't include the lyrics)
CREATIVITY
+ 20 Points
TOTAL[/I][/color]
200[/ul]

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WORD COUNT[/i]
1962 = 180
CREATIVITY[/B]
+ 30 points
TOTAL
210[/ul]
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