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Oct. 1st, 2003 01:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tammaiyaWords can not DESCRIBE the sheer HATE I hold for my father right now. He never ASKS, he just turns my computer off and thinks that everything's ok becuase nothing popped up with a "would you like to save?" message. I LOST ABOUT 2 OR SO FUCKING HOURS OF FF TACTICS. I had a party member named Darcy, dammit! I'd been TRAINING UP, so it's not like it was even an INTERESTING freggin' 2 hours! I HATE MY FATHER. And the worst thing is, I told him what he'd done, and then I yelled at him, because he doesn't CARE. Which means he'll do it AGAIN, because he's done it before, despite the fact that it's my damn computer. I paid for the bloody thing!
< /rant >
Right, sorry about that. Real need to vent, there. Still feel like yelling and screaming and breaking things, actually, but I already damaged my throat. I can't sing at the moment, which is heartily depressing. I should be careful, or this could become permanent one day.
So I couldn't even get on the internet after Dad had ruined my life, (ok. Maybe not ruined my life. But ruined my game, and my holidays, because that didn't just set me back timewise; it set me back EFFORT WISE. My motivation is dissipating like a haze. And I already have to go to bloody SYDNEY for 5 days. I hate Sydney. Oops. I'm ranting again...) because they unplugged the the transact box when they were dismantling the wall unit. There's this blank wall where this massive set of wooden structions and electronic appliances used to be. It's all in the rumpus room around the computer, too, which is even more disconcerting.
We're getting a new wall unit tomorrow, which is why. I replugged the box in purely because I wanted to go on the internet, but I doubt I'll be on again until late tomorrow. Stupid wall unit. Stupid universe. I'm trying REALLY hard not to descend into sheer capslocks rage. ^^;Urge to destroy rising.
In other news, wrote more of Celtic Cross. Probably dodgier than the other 2 parts, though, cause I'm tired.
“Go away, Jack. I’m trying to work.”
Jack pretended to consider this deeply, then shook his head. “Nope, sorry mate. Said I’d hang around and annoy ye until ye’re ready to come aboard the Pearl, and as has already been established, we are all men o’ our words, here.”
“Except, of course, Elizabeth, who is in fact a woman of her word,” Will quoted resignedly. “Jack, you are an absolute pest. I’m never going to get any work done. My reputation will be ruined, it will be all your fault, and when I die from embarrassment I’ll haunt you to the grave.”
“I’m hurt, Will! Deeply wounded, I am!” Striking a dramatic pose, Jack clutched at his breast like a dying man. Will ignored him, so he sat down again. “Besides, wouldn’t ye say me ruining yer reputation would be good fer me? Ye’d have less of a reason to hang around, I’d say. No hauntin’, though. Had quite enough o’ that fer one lifetime, William-me-lad.”
“I am cursed,” Will moaned. “Cursed to a lifetime of woe and misery in the company of Captain Jack Sparrow!”
“You remembered the Captain! Bravo!” Jack cheered, and then the rest of the sentence caught up, and Jack affected injured pride. “Oi, I’m not tha’ bad, am I? Many’s a lass as would kill to be in those shoes, or so I’m told. And ye’re not cursed. Not so’s I know, anyhow. Unless ye’ve taken to stealin’ Aztec gold without me knowin’, but I can’t really see that…”
“If so many young ladies are that happy to see you, why are you always getting slapped?” Will asked sarcastically. “And I was using ‘cursed’ as a figure of speech. Stupid of me.”
Jack shrugged. “Ye’re always doin’ somethin’ stupid, boy. It’s a miracle ye’re still here, really. No small thanks to ol’ Jack, either.”
Will considered telling Jack to cease calling him boy. He was 21, a legal adult, and Jack could only be about 30 to 35, anyway. He remembered Jack saying he’d stolen a ship and appointed himself captain quite young, and had his crew mutiny against him but a few short years later. When he opened his mouth to point this out, however, he immediately snapped it shut again and settled for a murderous glare. No sense in encouraging him, after all.
Cursing under his breath, Jack snapped his fingers. The honest ones, they were impossible to predict. You could never tell if Will would rise to the bait or attempt to gut you like a fish. “Ye really need t’ learn t’ loosen up, mate!”
“What happened to find myself a girl?” Will responded dryly.
“Well, so far’s I c’n tell, ye’ve done that already, and it don’t seem to be doin’ an’ awful lot o’ good,” Jack mused. Besides, Will getting himself a girl was entirely contradictory to his plans. “What I think ye really need, lad,” Jack went on, clapping Will hard across the shoulder, “is a good drink.”
“Rum is the devil’s drink,” Will said coldly, “and the answer is no.”
“Oh, come on! Ol’ times’ sake, whadd’ye say? Jus’ a mug?” Jack wheedled. If Will refused to get drunk, there went at least half a dozen opportune moments.
Will was sorely, sorely tempted. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been drunk before, and it would certainly be a welcome distraction from his problems. Elizabeth had been acting very strange, giving him sad looks and avoiding him, and on top of that, he had Jack the pesky mosquito to contend with.
He tried very hard not to contemplate the image of Jack sucking his blood, but it was a struggle.
“Rum tastes like cat piss!” Will objected desperately.
Jack looked truly shocked. “William Turner! That be sheer slander! If yer father had a grave, he’d be turnin’ in it! Imagine this, a child of Bootstrap who insults the sacred rum,” he lamented.
“Would you stop comparing me to my father?” Will snapped crossly. “And what about Elizabeth? She’d have my hide!”
“‘And what about Elizabeth?’ Is that all ye ever say, boy? Granted though, she is a rather feisty wench. Tell ye what, if she gets herself set on the warpath, feel free to blame Cap’n Jack.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” Will informed him grimly.
Jack’s face split into a wide, toothy grin as he slung an arm around Will’s shoulders again and herded him to the door. “Great! Ye just agreed to me terms, then. Drink up, me ‘earties, yo ho!”
“Oh, no,” Will groaned as he was dragged out the door. “What have I got myself into?”
Now will go... sleep, perhaps. Or shatter things.
< /rant >
Right, sorry about that. Real need to vent, there. Still feel like yelling and screaming and breaking things, actually, but I already damaged my throat. I can't sing at the moment, which is heartily depressing. I should be careful, or this could become permanent one day.
So I couldn't even get on the internet after Dad had ruined my life, (ok. Maybe not ruined my life. But ruined my game, and my holidays, because that didn't just set me back timewise; it set me back EFFORT WISE. My motivation is dissipating like a haze. And I already have to go to bloody SYDNEY for 5 days. I hate Sydney. Oops. I'm ranting again...) because they unplugged the the transact box when they were dismantling the wall unit. There's this blank wall where this massive set of wooden structions and electronic appliances used to be. It's all in the rumpus room around the computer, too, which is even more disconcerting.
We're getting a new wall unit tomorrow, which is why. I replugged the box in purely because I wanted to go on the internet, but I doubt I'll be on again until late tomorrow. Stupid wall unit. Stupid universe. I'm trying REALLY hard not to descend into sheer capslocks rage. ^^;
In other news, wrote more of Celtic Cross. Probably dodgier than the other 2 parts, though, cause I'm tired.
“Go away, Jack. I’m trying to work.”
Jack pretended to consider this deeply, then shook his head. “Nope, sorry mate. Said I’d hang around and annoy ye until ye’re ready to come aboard the Pearl, and as has already been established, we are all men o’ our words, here.”
“Except, of course, Elizabeth, who is in fact a woman of her word,” Will quoted resignedly. “Jack, you are an absolute pest. I’m never going to get any work done. My reputation will be ruined, it will be all your fault, and when I die from embarrassment I’ll haunt you to the grave.”
“I’m hurt, Will! Deeply wounded, I am!” Striking a dramatic pose, Jack clutched at his breast like a dying man. Will ignored him, so he sat down again. “Besides, wouldn’t ye say me ruining yer reputation would be good fer me? Ye’d have less of a reason to hang around, I’d say. No hauntin’, though. Had quite enough o’ that fer one lifetime, William-me-lad.”
“I am cursed,” Will moaned. “Cursed to a lifetime of woe and misery in the company of Captain Jack Sparrow!”
“You remembered the Captain! Bravo!” Jack cheered, and then the rest of the sentence caught up, and Jack affected injured pride. “Oi, I’m not tha’ bad, am I? Many’s a lass as would kill to be in those shoes, or so I’m told. And ye’re not cursed. Not so’s I know, anyhow. Unless ye’ve taken to stealin’ Aztec gold without me knowin’, but I can’t really see that…”
“If so many young ladies are that happy to see you, why are you always getting slapped?” Will asked sarcastically. “And I was using ‘cursed’ as a figure of speech. Stupid of me.”
Jack shrugged. “Ye’re always doin’ somethin’ stupid, boy. It’s a miracle ye’re still here, really. No small thanks to ol’ Jack, either.”
Will considered telling Jack to cease calling him boy. He was 21, a legal adult, and Jack could only be about 30 to 35, anyway. He remembered Jack saying he’d stolen a ship and appointed himself captain quite young, and had his crew mutiny against him but a few short years later. When he opened his mouth to point this out, however, he immediately snapped it shut again and settled for a murderous glare. No sense in encouraging him, after all.
Cursing under his breath, Jack snapped his fingers. The honest ones, they were impossible to predict. You could never tell if Will would rise to the bait or attempt to gut you like a fish. “Ye really need t’ learn t’ loosen up, mate!”
“What happened to find myself a girl?” Will responded dryly.
“Well, so far’s I c’n tell, ye’ve done that already, and it don’t seem to be doin’ an’ awful lot o’ good,” Jack mused. Besides, Will getting himself a girl was entirely contradictory to his plans. “What I think ye really need, lad,” Jack went on, clapping Will hard across the shoulder, “is a good drink.”
“Rum is the devil’s drink,” Will said coldly, “and the answer is no.”
“Oh, come on! Ol’ times’ sake, whadd’ye say? Jus’ a mug?” Jack wheedled. If Will refused to get drunk, there went at least half a dozen opportune moments.
Will was sorely, sorely tempted. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been drunk before, and it would certainly be a welcome distraction from his problems. Elizabeth had been acting very strange, giving him sad looks and avoiding him, and on top of that, he had Jack the pesky mosquito to contend with.
He tried very hard not to contemplate the image of Jack sucking his blood, but it was a struggle.
“Rum tastes like cat piss!” Will objected desperately.
Jack looked truly shocked. “William Turner! That be sheer slander! If yer father had a grave, he’d be turnin’ in it! Imagine this, a child of Bootstrap who insults the sacred rum,” he lamented.
“Would you stop comparing me to my father?” Will snapped crossly. “And what about Elizabeth? She’d have my hide!”
“‘And what about Elizabeth?’ Is that all ye ever say, boy? Granted though, she is a rather feisty wench. Tell ye what, if she gets herself set on the warpath, feel free to blame Cap’n Jack.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” Will informed him grimly.
Jack’s face split into a wide, toothy grin as he slung an arm around Will’s shoulders again and herded him to the door. “Great! Ye just agreed to me terms, then. Drink up, me ‘earties, yo ho!”
“Oh, no,” Will groaned as he was dragged out the door. “What have I got myself into?”
Now will go... sleep, perhaps. Or shatter things.
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no subject
Date: 2003-10-03 05:58 pm (UTC)Jack the vampire. Hmm. Perhaps discussing th two at the same time was not so clever of us.
...I want to watch Will get drunk.
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Date: 2003-10-04 01:45 am (UTC)