keire_ke: (Default)
[personal profile] keire_ke
Stuff to do:

* read Tamburlaine the sequel.
* read the RPS that is Edward II.
* keep ignoring the Faerie Queene.
* write a horror story that isn't mostly a romantic comedy and doesn't make people laugh. Granted, the people in question loved it so much they stole my copy, but still.
* one word: coursework.
* one word: art.
* the story from hell is demanding attention again.
* find out just why the LJ Talk Gizmo defeated me. Kick its ass and make it work.

I realise I am spoiling myself by reading Supernatural episode summaries on IMDB, but what the hell. I am thinking the writers for the show finally realised the neon-coloured "fuck me now" tattoo on Dean's forehead is more visible when he's angsty. Can't say I'm complaining. *evil grin*


The sun was high in the sky. God, I loved this time of the day. Hustle and bustle of an apparently infinite amount of students filling the classrooms overrode the faint sound of an mp3 player in my ear. How do they all fit in this building, that’s what I’d like to know. The laws of physics give up where students are concerned, I sometimes think.

“Hey, how’s life?” A backpack landed next to me. I grinned. Dean doesn’t show up often, but when he does the class is always a hoot. This class especially – the guy has a miraculous memory for facts and dates. Now that he’s a regular participant, I’m reaping the benefits. Life is damn good!

“Not so bad,” I answered. I could see, out of the corner of my eye, that he was looking at me with a funny expression on his face. I could guess why. I was once told my eyes twinkle when I’m happy. That sounded like an awful lot of crappy romantic bull to me, but the way it was said, never mind the circumstance, were anything but romantic. The actual words were ‘you know, your face gets all scrunched up when you’re happy. Makes you look like a bunny rabbit. Your eyes get all squinty and what’s visible of them catches the light – it’s quite cute actually’.

“You look like a bunny when you do that,” Dean said suddenly. I could feel my eyes opening wide. “Your nose twitches.”

“Yeah, someone told me that once.”

“Any particular reason for that?”

“Apparently I do that when I’m happy.”

“I see. Why are you so happy now? The old coot isn’t exactly fond of you.”

“You noticed that?”

“Dude, anything with eyes could have noticed that.” Dean stretched in his chair. “She always homes in on you, the creepy hag. I’m surprised you haven’t complained yet.”

“What would I say? Excuse me, professor, could you stop asking me questions?”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.”

“Probably not,” I said with a sigh. I wished she would leave me alone, but fat chance of that ever happening.

“Still, she is being a right bitch to you.”

“I’ll deal. It’s not like I can wish her away, or something.”

“Would you? If you could, I mean.” Good question. I stared at my notebook.

“If I could, yeah. Or at least I’d wish for someone else to mark my essays.” I shot a glance at Dean. He was staring ahead, a wide grin on his face. “What are you so happy about?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied quickly. “It’s not like I care. She likes me.”

“Name one person who doesn’t.”

“I always thought the janitor in my building is eyeballing me, but other than that…”

“Asshole. Rub it in, why don’t you?”

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound at all sorry, the bastard. I shook my head a little to the tune of the ringing bell and fished around in my bag for the textbook. The old hag would be coming in any minute now, she’s notorious for being on time. One more thing to hate about her.

“Mr Brighton. The bell announces the end of the recess period. Please kindly remove the earphones.” Speak of the devil.

“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered. It’s not like the bell sounded fifteen minutes ago, you crazy bat.

“Oh, since you’re so keen on talking why don’t you remind us what were we studying last week?” Damn her.

“Uh…” Help from above? Please?

“We were studying the Black Death and its consequences in 15th century Europe,” Dean cut in smoothly. I could almost kiss the guy.

“You were actually paying attention, good job.” She smiled at Dean and then shot me a withering glare. Oh, drop dead, I thought, barely stopping myself from making a face. “Let’s…” She paused and frowned. Her mouth opened again, but no sound came out. Within twenty seconds she was gasping for air. Her hands were clasped tightly at her chest, gripping the material of her blouse convulsively.

“Shit!” Somebody’s voice broke through the oppressive silence. “Somebody get the nurse!”

“I’ll go,” I said getting up. “You call an ambulance.” I ran out of the silent room. Oh, hell. The nurse’s office was on the other side of the building.

There was nothing but silence and the occasional sunbeam all along the grey corridors. My feet stopped moving. Why the fuck was it so quiet!? It’s a school, goddamn it, not a morgue. I forced myself to take a step, than another. I hated empty school corridors. It’s a school. There were hundreds of students here, why was it so quiet?

… Why was my breathing the only sound I could hear?

“She’s dead.” A whisper sounded next to my ear. I’m not sure exactly what was it that I did then. It might have been a bizarre attempt at yodelling while doing a pirouette, or maybe it was just a jump punctuated by a yell. Whatever it was, it left me clutching a wall for support. “Relax, damn. It’s not like I’m gonna kill you or anything.”

“Dean. Oh fuck, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He was smiling again, but that smile wasn’t at all comforting. It was an empty, insipid curve of lips, unfamiliar and disconcerting. I wished, more than anything, that he’d stop.

“She’s- What do you mean she’s dead?”

“Dead as a doornail,” he said nodding. I stared.

“How- No, it’s not possible- How do you know?” Dean raised a brow.

“I checked her pulse.”

“And she’s really… Why is it so quiet?” Why was it so quiet? Why wasn’t anyone screaming yet? A teacher just died in front of a full class and everyone just sat there in silence?

“Didn’t you wish she’d die?” I looked at Dean in disbelief. For once he wasn’t smiling, but looking at me seriously. The look didn’t suit him at all. I turned my head.

“What!? Of course not!”

“Truly?” He took a step closer.

“Yes!” He leaned forward. I flattened myself against the wall.

“Liar,” he breathed, his face inches from mine. Move, I thought desperately. Please move. Let someone come out of a classroom. Anything, let the goddamned floor swallow me now. “You wanted her to die. You wanted her to drop dead, right there in the classroom.” I clenched my eyes shut, but I couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t stop seeing his bright eyes bore into mine.

“Stop it!”

“You wished her death,” he paused briefly and then grinned at me. “How does that feel?”

Date: 2006-10-22 11:29 pm (UTC)
ext_25574: (fairy)
From: [identity profile] seraphim-grace.livejournal.com
what did you think of Tamburlaine, i was sold when the king of trebizon smashed his brains out on stage at the end of part 1

actually the fairy queen is fun

Date: 2006-10-22 11:33 pm (UTC)
ext_33880: (In your face God)
From: [identity profile] keire-ke.livejournal.com
I really liked it. Though I admit I giggled when his wife "runs into the cage and brains herself". To my surprise Marlowe is more approachable than Shakespeare. ^____^

Is it? Maybe it's the language that's making me ignore it.

Date: 2006-10-22 11:40 pm (UTC)
ext_25574: (boston terrier puppy of impossible cuten)
From: [identity profile] seraphim-grace.livejournal.com
Whenever people talk about Marlow being shakespeare I have to say NO, linguistically they're complete opposites and Marlowe captivates me, he's closer in tone to Webster. And he doesn't always have the "right" end to the story, his tragedies are messy, his comedies (few and far between) are funny and shock horror, his poetry is beautiful. And he was a honey.

the faerie queen is great fun, are you sure it's not hte size of it that puts you off, it holds my monitor up at the moment. it has a bad press but the bit at the start about slaying dragons sold me. I was enraptured. Find a quiet place and read it aloud, let the language take you, it's lovely as well as a ripping yarn about monsters and dragons and other fun things.

Date: 2006-10-22 11:49 pm (UTC)
ext_33880: (Fear of Long Words)
From: [identity profile] keire-ke.livejournal.com
I find it hard to believe too, their plays are just so completely different. Tamburlaine I loved for the simplicity of the whole thing. "Conquer the world? Don't mind if I do. Stand aside, sir, I shall now take over."

No, I don't think it's the size. I find early modern English a little hard to read in its original form. But yeah, the dragons and fairies are a good selling point. <3

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