Promt meme

[froodle]

So, I've seen this around a few times and it sounds like it could be fun:

Give me the first sentence of a fic I haven't written and I'll give you the next five.

Comments

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

Marshall picks up the milk carton, slowly pouring it onto his cereal, barely registering the familiar face staring back at him.

[froodle]

Marshall picks up the milk carton, slowly pouring it onto his cereal, barely registering the familiar face staring back at him

Sixty minutes and an entire universe away, Simon pounds frantically on the rear window of a refrigerated milk truck. Behind him, in the sliver of background surrounding his pale, frightened face, dark shapes are moving. They walk upright, moving with a horrible lurching gait, canid spines bent and warped into primate posture. The loss of the Harvest King had awakened an ancient and horrible power that slept beneath Eerie, and Mister Chaney, transformed and moon-mad, had rampaged through the city pound, biting and clawing the caged animals within.

For Marshall, the tiny monochrome picture remains silent, but back home in Eerie, Simon screams.

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

oh. my.

GOD

[froodle]

poor fifi. poor fluffy. all they wanted was freedom and justice for their people; what they got was bodyhorror and a loss of self.

I dont even hate dogs, I do t know why I wanted to mess them up like this...

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

nothing is safe in Eerie

[yarol-2075.livejournal.com]

My name is Marshall Teller, I may have made the biggest mistake of my life and I'm afraid I may live to regret it.

[froodle]

My name is Marshall Teller, I may have made the biggest mistake of my life and I'm afraid I may live to regret it.

"Terminal," the doctor said, and the sound had reverberated through Marshall's soul.

The morphine made Marilyn woozy and compliant, and she hadn't objected when Mars suggested she might be more comfortable sleeping downstairs. Edgar, half out of his mind with grief and the need to hide it from everybody, had carried freshly-laundered linens up from the basement, and hovered miserably as Syndi and Marshall set up the daybed.

That night, while his mother slept the restless, non-restorative sleep of the heavily medicated, Mars slipped downstairs and retrieved the huge rubber lid from where he had hidden it, partially concealed between the sofa and the northern wall.

Up to this point, religion in the Teller household had consisted of a tree at Christmas and a half-hearted belief in crucifixes as a deterrent against vampires, but when Marshall presses the last corner into place, and hears the hiss of an activated vacuum seal on the giant, dishwasher-safe People Saver, he prays.

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

omg

oh Mars! <3

my heart, froods. you are destroying it.

[froodle]

quick! put it in a people saver! its totally safe for the dishwasher!

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

"What's this really red thing in the back of your fridge?"
"DON'T OPEN IT!"
"I wasn't going to I just wanted to know what it is."
"Uh..."

[froodle]

I kind of feel like that could be a drabble about mars' trials and tribulations living in shared accomodation for the first time while at uni...

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

To whom it may concern, I have been at college for two months now and the strangest thing that happened was the toe nail garden my roommate was 'growing' for two weeks before I got fed up with it and vacuumed it up.

Simon sent a specimen sealed in Foreverware for me to examine so he and Dash can figure out how to deal with it. Stuck it in roommate's minifridge while I worked on a paper. Roommate thought it was a snack his mom sent him. I'm hoping he's not purple tomorrow.

Roommate no longer purple. He has changed to an interesting shade of mustard yellow and his eyes won't shut. Still have not been able to examine what he didn't eat of the specimen.

Roommate with me while I hole up in the chemistry lab for some late night sciencing. He can blink now, but his skin's still going through the rainbow. Here's hoping my trusty microscope will help.

Currently in Dean's office. Roommate is in the health center with a fever and headache - his color finally returned to normal at about three this morning, right before campus safety caught me working on the sample. I've determined it's some sort of fungus, but other than that I've got no idea. Will send the information to Simon, hopefully they can find a way to combat it.

Am on academic probation. Roommate has requested a room change because I'm too weird. Better weird than dead.

Letter just came from Simon. Anti-fungal spray did not work and instead the fungus has overtaken the mill. Dash forced to move in with Simon and Mr. Radford. Insisting on daily updates so I know no one's dead.

[froodle]

AS IF YOU JUST WROTE THAT IN TEN MINUTES!!

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

I also saved it so I can add to it.

[froodle]

good, cos I feel like I need more of marshalls late night sciencing in my life

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

he'd have so much trouble in college. like. imagine his science projects. "An experiment to prove the existence of big foot" or "a study of UFO photography through the years"

also his English profs.

"Um, mr. teller, we asked for an essay on your summer plans, not a science fiction novel."

[froodle]

and his academic advisor sort of gently suggesting that maybe hed enjoy creative writing instead. no,really, maybe you should consider changing majors. no, REALLY, mr. teller, you need to switch to creative writing...

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

And then his creative writing prof is one of those "we only deal with ~realistic~ fiction" types

[froodle]

ugh, and hes all, blahblah, this isnt literature, and then he gets eaten by a tentacle monster because fuck those people who make writing actually not be fun.

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

AND and

it turns out the tentacle monster was the Thing Under Marshall's Bed that he and Simon never actually saw but started feeding when they realized their forgotten midnight snacks were disappearing rather than turning into moldy goop.

and it followed him to college.

because it liked him.

and when it hears Mars complaining about his creative writing prof it's like "ok, I'll help" and noms him

[froodle]

oh, OH, and the monster is all, I believe in you marshall! and all the other monsters are like, silly monster, the humans over your bed arent real, go to sleep...

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

so. about that cowriting thing...

I think we've found our first project.

[froodle]

oh, this, so very much this! how do you want to do it? ive never cowritten anything before.

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

Well, we could alternate chapters. Or something...

I haven't cowritten in a very long time, lol.

I was thinking if we have it set during Mars's college years we could do like...little intros with his journal entries and such before each chapter (a la what I've got up there)...or something?

and we could like. alternate Mars's pov and the bed monsters? Maybe with like bedmonster flash backs to like...growing used to simon and mars and becoming attatched.

[froodle]

I like that, I like that a lot! I dont have any hard n fast ideas floating around for it right this second, but im gonna try and get some monster pov to you by the end of the long weekend.

after that ill probably be more productive because mgs is coming out and ill be on my laptop with headphones in while mike screams abuse at keifer sutherland.

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

sounds good.

i'll come up with some more Mars's journal while at college stuff

[lipstickcat.livejournal.com]

Tonight, just as every other night, Dash dreams, but he won't remember them when the sun comes up.

[froodle]

Tonight, just as every other night, Dash dreams, but he won't remember them when the sun comes up.

He is bounding over a hot desert plain, and the burning sand scorches the soft pink pads of his paws.

He is barefoot on a mountain, and mad-eyed women with wine-stained mouths are dancing wildly in the moonlight, their hands red past the wrist with blood.

He is bound to a standing stone, naked and shivering in the chill morning fog, and they will cut out his heart to make the sun rise again.

He is drowning in two inches of stagnant water, and the hands holding him under stroke his hair and whisper that it has to be this way, for the good of the village.

In the morning he wakes, stiff and cold, and as he eats his meagre breakfast, scavenged the day before from the dumpster behind the Eerie Bus Terminal and Supper Club, one word thrums through his body, repeated over and over:

Survive.

[eviinsanemonkey.livejournal.com]

DAAAAAAAAAAASH


Seriously froods. my heart can't take much more of your fics.

keep 'em coming

(p.s. lemme know if you'd rather I didn't call you Froods)

[froodle]

poor dash. I really want to write something fun for him, but I was hungry when I wrote this, so he pays the price.

(no, I like, its like a combo of froodle and froods. it makes me feel like one of the cool kids, when in fact I got upset when I realised digimon 02 is now a yuletide fandom and nothing I love is hip or popular anymore *cries for lost fandom relevance*)