FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUK!
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111111111
Nope, I still can’t get over that arrogant pig.
September 14, 2009
Packing, packing, packing…
RAWHIIIIIIIIIIDE!
Heh heh. Yep, I’m packing up my clothes. Only two more days, then I leave, Wednesday morning.
Oh, wait, I’m still on my computer. How did that happen?!
September 12, 2009
So, did I mention I’m getting nervous?
Yerp, college is right around the corner. I’m leaving this Wednesday, and by the following Monday I’ll be in classes. Yikes.
September 8, 2009
Once A Secret, Nevermore (a couple chapters to whet your appetite)
All material copyright Luc Pollard.
Once A Secret, Nevermore
By Luc Pollard
“Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands maybe.”
Neil Gaiman (The Sandman Vol. 5: A Game of You)
Chapter One – New York, NY – PoD Headquarters
“Well, it’s been one week. Please tell me you have something, gentlemen.”
“I’m sorry Sir,” Agent Braubarn said sullenly. “We haven’t found any reason for it. A few crazies have come to us with absurd theories, but they were too ridiculous to even consider.”
“What were these theories?”
“Sir, we need to focus on real leads. We don’t have time to waste on these crackpots. More and more people are disappearing every night!”
“And it’s not only happening here in the United States, Sir,” Agent Rourk said quickly. “We’ve contacted our people in England, France, Russia, Germany, Chile, Egypt, Australia… everywhere. It’s happening everywhere. The governments are trying to keep everything hush-hush, but⎯”
“But it’s not working at all, Sir.” Agent McCormick cut in frantically. He wiped his brow with his shirt cuff. “The people aren’t stupid. Some are scared. They question their governments that say they will protect everyone. Others are angry, and blame the governments themselves for the disappearances. Both groups are willing to fight this, and the governments are the enemy.” He took a breath “And it won’t be long before it comes knocking on our door.” Everyone was silent for a moment as they let that last sentence sink in.
“People, we’ve always been hated and feared. This is nothing new. Now, Braubarn… what are these absurd theories?”
“Well, Sir, we have the usual ideas⎯the apocalypse, aliens, one guy actually said global warming.”
“Really?”
“Uh, no Sir. Sorry, Sir, I was just trying to lighten the mood a little.”
“Thank you, Braubarn, but that isn’t necessary. Anything else?”
“Yes, Sir, one more. This was suggested by five people, in the exact same way. They said that at night, after they had fallen asleep, they were somehow contacted. And that they saw into… another world.”
“What kind of world?” Agent Braubarn shifted uncomfortably.
“Sir, you don’t actually believe this load of⎯”
“Where are these people?”
“Well,” Braubarn sighed, “we’ve released released four from our custody, but we still have one of them here. We’re testing him for drug use at the moment.”
“Bring him to my office, right now.”
“Sir, please, if you would just⎯”
“Right. Now.”
* * *
“Hello, son. My name is⎯”
“When can I leave?” A young man squirmed restlessly in his chair.
“Yes, well, I’d like to ask you a few questions, and then you will be released.”
“Okay, I guess I can do that.”
“Attaboy. Agent Braubarn, you may leave now.” Braubarn felt a pang of disappointment, but he dutifully walked out of the office and shut the door behind him.
“Who are you people, anyway. You sure as hell aren’t any government agency I’ve heard of.”
“No, we aren’t affiliated with the governemnt. What’s you name, son?”
“So, you don’t think I’m crazy?”
“No, I don’t.” He smiled.
“Cool. I was beginning to forget what it felt like to be taken seriously.” He smiled back. “My name’s Brian.”
“Brian. Good. When I was growing up, there was nothing more condescending to me than older folks calling me ‘son’, or ‘boy’, ‘kiddo’, and whatever else young people hate being called these days. I wanted to be called by my first name. Maybe even my last name! Now, everyone just calls me Sir. It fills me with pride, while simultaneously being incredibly depressing. Respect, admiration, maybe even a little bit of fear. And one morning, I woke up wondering, was it all worth it?”
“Umm, was what all worth it?” Brian said uncertainly, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer. This guy was old. Not, really old, but old enough to ramble, as he had just shown. Grey hair, trimmed and groomed properly; a somewhat stuffy looking suit; thin, wiry glasses; and wrinkles aplenty.
“Hmm? Oh, never mind.” Brian sighed inwardly.
“I’m not that young, you know. I’m twenty seven,” Brian said boldly, sitting up straighter.
“Heh. Trust me, you’re still a kid to me.” Brian gritted his teeth. “Would you like some coffee?” He said suddenly.
“Yeah, sure. Coffee would be nice.” So, the Old Man was trying to butter him up. Brian had no idea why. Whatever. The Old Man reached to his right and picked up an exotic looking mug off the desk. He handed it to Brian.
“This is my favorite mug. I got in Chile. I always drink out of it, but I’ll let you use it today. Don’t worry, it’s been washed.” So, now he was putting his trust in him. More to make him seem like his friend. He began walking over to retrieve the coffee pot, one short step at a time. “I hope there’s no offense about that ‘you’re still a kid’ comment. Maybe I sounded a bit condescending myself.”
“No, that’s alright.” Brian held the mug high over the floor. Fuck you, Old Man. “None taken.” He let go. The mug dropped down to the floor, but stopped an inch from impact. It was laying in a hand. The hand was attached to an arm. The arm was attached to a shoulder. And the shoulder belonged to the Man. Brian wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, and all he managed to do was stupidly move his mouth open and closed like a fish.
The Man looked a little annoyed, but all He said when He stood up and looked Brian in the eye was, “I take it you don’t want any coffee.”
“Uh… no… no thank you.” Then the Man grinned wickedly, which was a little unsettling for someone who Brian now realized was quite tall and well-built.
“Just as well,” He chuckled, “I just remembered that coffee is three days old. Tastes like shit!” He swung around the desk and landed in his chair lightly, replacing the coffee mug with care. Clearly the act was over.
“So, um, Sir⎯”
“Please! Call me Roger!”
“Your name’s Roger?” Brian looked at the Man carefully, and just couldn’t see that name fitting him.
“Of course not, but I want you to call me it anyway!” Brian was beginning to get truly scared. “Listen, I know you want to get out of here as soon as possible, so how about we get straight to the questions, eh?”
“Yes, Si… alright, Roger.”
“Great! So, first I want you to tell me your version of the story.”
“Well…” Brian took a deep breath.
Chapter Two – The Thieves’ Guild Hideout
“Easy, Aranaal. Easy. Let’s talk.” Everyone else in the hall was dead. Now it was down to two. There was Aranaal, the enormous, upright wolf with two eyes like saucers fixed right on their prey. And Fupas, the gangly lizardman, who stood quivering before this giant. His stomach was churning, he was trying to ignore the stench of blood all around him, and oh god, is that what a wolf looks like when it smiles? “A-A-Aranaal, please, I didn’t betray your secret! No one knows what you are! You know this, don’t you?”
Aranal’s voice boomed as he said and growled at once, “No, you never betrayed my secret. But you stabbed my best friend in the back. We trusted you.” He laughed, which made Fupas squirm even more. “Well, he trusted you. To be honest I never liked you.” Then he looked almost sympathetic. “But don’t worry. I won’t let my judgements of you in life influence my critique of your merit as a meal.” He held up a clawed hand solemnly. “On my honor.”
“Please. Please!” Aranaal slowly advanced. “Waitwaitwait. Just wait a minute! We can work this out. I’ll give you anything you want! I’ll give you all the meat you want! I’ll come work for you! Do anything you ask me, no exceptions!” Aranaal paused.
“Really?”
“Yes!” Finally Fupas saw a glimmer of hope. “Well, except die.”
“Oh. Pity.” Aranaal could see Fupas’s plan even before he shot a brief glance at the door. “Heh heh. Go on. Run. I’ll even give you a head start.” Fupas stared at the wolf in confusion.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?” Fupas gulped. Had he really just said that? Aranaal looked a little surprised.
“Excuse me?” They stood in stunned silence for five long seconds. And then, “One.” Fupas took a small step towards the door. “Two.” He jumped to the doorway. Aranaal gave him an encouraging nod. “Three.” Fupas was gone.
Fupas sprinted down the hallway with speed he had never known he possessed, passing doors on either side in a blur. Spotting the stairs to the basement, he charged down through the open door. Not bothering to bring a torch⎯he knew the layout of the room like the back of his hand⎯he slipped through the next door, now making sure to be as quiet as possible. He was fairly strong, so he lifted the bookcase, books and all, rather than dragging it, and propped it against the door. Satisfied, he crept over to the trapdoor in the floor in the corner. He grabbed the handle and pulled up, but it was stuck.
Not now, not NOW god damn it! He pulled for all he was worth, but the hatch wouldn’t budge. I knew we should have oiled this damn door! Our laziness has paid off⎯ the only escape tunnel is rusted shut! Fuck! He leaned all the way back, almost parallel to the floor. “For god’s sake, open already!” He whispered fiercely.
And with the words barely out of his mouth, the hatch sprang open! Fupas was knocked on his back, twisting his tail into a painful shape beneath him. He barely noticed this though, such was his joy.
“Ha ha!” He squeaked giddily. He leapt up, stealth forgotten, and ran to his escape. But when he looked down, he saw two red eyes staring up at him; laughing at him.
“It’s all gone to shit, eh?” With a loud whoosh, Fupas was once again knocked on his back and flattened by 800 pounds of fur and muscle. The wolf was crushing Fupas’s lungs under his hind legs. “What was the most painful experience of your entire life?” Fupas fought for air, clutching futilely at his captor’s feet. Now desperate, he scratched the beast’s ankles with his claws. “Oooh, you want to play?” He leapt off the lizard’s chest, landing elegantly next to him. Fupas was about to scramble to his feet when Aranaal tore through his stomach lining with his index claw. Fupas gasped so sharply it came out as a whistle. But if he thought he was in pain then, nothing prepared him for everything that followed. It was the longest night of Fupas’s life. It was also the last.
September 2, 2009
I just watched “The Hunted”.
Creepy movie. And talk about gory! Eat your heart out, Quentin Tarantino! Sure, you’ve got more gore, but it’s the kind we’re desensitized to. It’s so gory, it’s funny! Not like this. I cringed every time someone got stabbed or cut.
Also, Benicio Del Toro was awesome. Well, he’s pretty much always awesome. One badass mother fucker. 
September 2, 2009
Classes schedule
Monday
8 a.m. – 8:50: Common Exam Period
Tuesday
4:30 p.m. – 6:20: Design I for Media
Wednesday
8:00 a.m. – 8:50: Common Exam Period
9:30 a.m. – 10:50: Expository Writing and Reading
11:00 a.m. – 11:50: The Drexel Experience
12:00 p.m. – 2:50: Basic Editing
3:00 p.m. – 5:50: Basic Shooting and Lighting
Thursday
12:30 p.m. – 3:20: American Classic Cinema
4:30 p.m. – 6:20: Design I for Media
Friday
8:00 a.m. – 8:50: Common Exam Period
So, the theory is that “Common Exam Period” is only applicable when I have exams to take, and therefore I have Monday and Friday off, and my first Wednesday class is at 9:30 a.m.. That would be nice. 
August 25, 2009
Well, I have to work out the rest of my spelling and grammar mistakes in the last story…
And then it’s on to the next one. I’ve written a few pages of it, but I really want to clear up A Tale of Two Argonians, first.
I watched the entire Trigun series yesterday. I think it was 26 episodes. I can’t quite remember. I skipped episodes 1-5, as I’d seen them before. Those were pretty lame, as I recalled. Heh, it is a manga anime show. They had a lot of that kind of corny humor. But as I got farther in, they got really interesting. And badass! Woo! Go Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon! Heh heh.
I guess that’s it.
Fu out.
