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32/100
32/500","writing":" Wallace set a timer. The calico didn't want to burn his pizza, even though it was store-brand. There had been a grocery in his town that shut down. It was in the same shopping center as the over-size general store. That grocery's store brand actually tried on frozen pizza. For some reason, possibly faltering sales, they kept trying new things. They were innovative, at least for being frozen.\n That grocery was gone, but a local chain still existed. They tried harder than most grocery stores in that they offered more than just the big four (cheese, pepperoni, three meat, and supreme) in their brand. They also had a variety of crusts, presumably paired with the toppings to offer the best possible experience. It was one such three meat pizzas, with a \"pub style\" crust that was about to go in the oven. \n The oven was set to 425 degrees fahrenheit. He felt a tinge of deja vu as he noted that he'd have to wait 20 minutes for not-delivery-fresh pizza. Not-delivery-fresh pizza. Wait 20 minutes. Wait...\n [i]Past mistakes,[/i]Wallace thought, [i]they [u]won't[/u] repeat.[/i]\n He made sure to put the three meat pizza in the preheated 425 degree oven, after removing it from its tangle of packaging. He heard it sizzle as he placed it directly on the rack. This time he wouldn't curse every facet of his life. He had started the pizza out of the freezer. \n\n Emily smirked to herself, \"Now it's just us. What will you reveal next?\"\n That had already happened. She felt that it had just happened. It was different from the previous iteration. She couldn't quite tell and it ultimately didn't matter. But she knew there to be a difference even if structurally there was none.\n She didn't know why she noticed the changes. She didn't know why she cared. She didn't know why she was a lesbian. She just was. For all of her ridicule of Charles for not thinking about himself, his sexuality and how it relates to him as a person, she had just as few answers for the same reason.\n \"I've never really thought about it,\" a Charles in the past told her.\n \"Typical male,\" Emily replied.\n It was different. It was too tangibly different to be a trick of memory. It was similar enough that maybe Jefferson, Sheena, or Charles wouldn't notice it. Emily noticed. Perhaps it was a side effect of her neuroticism in cookie-counting. Her fear of the number changing could have lead her to be more alert to the other on-goings that could potentially interfere with her cookies.\n \"Nope,\" Emily said plainly and defiantly.\n \"We aren't going there. No one fucks with my cookies, don't you even threaten it.\"\n She was alone in an empty room. It didn't particularly smell like nasty doe pussy. Charles and Jefferson were carrying the body to the farm to be fed to the hogs. She was determined to maintain continuity. She kept telling herself where others were in relation to her. She felt dizzy.\n Emily sat on a chair. She blinked. She knew where she was. It was her living room. There was carpet under her feet. The walls were just a touch too orange to be called tan. Without seeing it, she knew she was in the pink chair because the green, blue, and brown chairs were visible.\n She felt sick. Charles had vomited a lot in that room. Sheena died in that room. Charles died, too, but he wasn't dead so it didn't count. Life seemed easier without the boundaries of perception being defined. It was easier. Anything could have happened. Anything did happen, many times. Her reflex led her down a path that was comfortable.\n \"Fucking [i]nope[/i].\"\n Emily was irritated that the path she chose was the \"easy\" one. She was infuriated by all of the retcons, redos, overlays, backmasks, frames, asides, and other narrative devices. She didn't want to believe it to be her doing. She ate a cookie to stop from being so angry.\n \"I may have done a lot of things, but I am not so naive to believe that there wasn't another force at work. I don't even know how I got magic power. I don't remember when I turned into a lesbian.\"\n Characters don't turn into things, they always were who they are, they might just have to awaken to it.\n \"Don't go changing tense! This isn't a conversation.\"\n She was right. There was no one to have a conversation with. She was alone with nagging thoughts. She never turned into a lesbian. She had always been attracted to females. She had always been awkward around or repulsed by males. She just found herself understanding what it meant to polish her pearl while thinking of other females, how they'd feel, how great it'd be to hold and snuggle. She'd orgasm. She didn't realize it the first time, but eventually she figured out that she was a lesbian.\n Her magic was something else. She had a tendency to get her desires granted. Logically it had to stem from her lesbian tendencies. Womb magic has been revered since time immemorial. Females, in many cultures, having the power of life, were thought closest to god. Some became great magicians. Others became witches. Throughout all history, \"powerful female\" has been an archetype. Emily realized it. She noticed it in herself and chose to not keep it to herself.\n \"I don't need my own backstory. I've lived it. What I want to know is how to get out of this mess.\"\n There wasn't a mess to get out of. There was no cage that imprisoned her. Her existence was just a passing daydream. She didn't feel that way about it. In all actuality, her fits and demands were like that of a small child that demanded attention only to inform you that it likes applesauce. Ultimately, it was worthless and would soon be forgotten.\n \"Will this all reset again?\"\n She was becoming desperate in an attempt to show the others she had the upperhand. She could have revived Sheena on the spot but she didn't. She didn't even think of it.\n \"Sheena's not my friend or anything. She's just around. Why should I do it for my sake if someone else would rather do it for their own amusement.\"\n Sheena wasn't very amusing. Charles and Jefferson were. Emily was. The three of them needed someone to intereact with. They needed a frenemy of sorts. Sheena was alright because of some of the sexual tension exhibited in the show. Also Sheena was fun to explore because of her sexual ambiguity. The time had come for her to be out of the story.\n \"If she comes back, if she's brought back, it won't be by me. Which means another retcon.\"\n Only retcons are canon.\n \"Don't. Change. Tense,\" Emily sighed. She missed Charles. If she was honest, she wasn't, she missed Jefferson. She wondered how they were faring. She longed for insight, but didn't want to walk the line that Jefferson had.\n \"Wait, what?\"\n She fingered herself idly and wondered if Sheena would be the only one to get fed to the hogs.\n\n The timer went off. Wallace smirked to himself. This time he had put the pizza in the oven. It was almost as happy looking as the display picture on the box. The cheese was browning on the edges, the toppings were moist from grease. He let it cool for three minutes before cutting it into ten near-symmetrical slices. It was a good pizza. He was happy with himself.","writing_bbcode_parsed":" Wallace set a timer. The calico didn't want to burn his pizza, even though it was store-brand. There had been a grocery in his town that shut down. It was in the same shopping center as the over-size general store. That grocery's store brand actually tried on frozen pizza. For some reason, possibly faltering sales, they kept trying new things. They were innovative, at least for being frozen.
That grocery was gone, but a local chain still existed. They tried harder than most grocery stores in that they offered more than just the big four (cheese, pepperoni, three meat, and supreme) in their brand. They also had a variety of crusts, presumably paired with the toppings to offer the best possible experience. It was one such three meat pizzas, with a "pub style" crust that was about to go in the oven.
The oven was set to 425 degrees fahrenheit. He felt a tinge of deja vu as he noted that he'd have to wait 20 minutes for not-delivery-fresh pizza. Not-delivery-fresh pizza. Wait 20 minutes. Wait...
Past mistakes,Wallace thought, they won't repeat.
He made sure to put the three meat pizza in the preheated 425 degree oven, after removing it from its tangle of packaging. He heard it sizzle as he placed it directly on the rack. This time he wouldn't curse every facet of his life. He had started the pizza out of the freezer.
Emily smirked to herself, "Now it's just us. What will you reveal next?"
That had already happened. She felt that it had just happened. It was different from the previous iteration. She couldn't quite tell and it ultimately didn't matter. But she knew there to be a difference even if structurally there was none.
She didn't know why she noticed the changes. She didn't know why she cared. She didn't know why she was a lesbian. She just was. For all of her ridicule of Charles for not thinking about himself, his sexuality and how it relates to him as a person, she had just as few answers for the same reason.
"I've never really thought about it," a Charles in the past told her.
"Typical male," Emily replied.
It was different. It was too tangibly different to be a trick of memory. It was similar enough that maybe Jefferson, Sheena, or Charles wouldn't notice it. Emily noticed. Perhaps it was a side effect of her neuroticism in cookie-counting. Her fear of the number changing could have lead her to be more alert to the other on-goings that could potentially interfere with her cookies.
"Nope," Emily said plainly and defiantly.
"We aren't going there. No one fucks with my cookies, don't you even threaten it."
She was alone in an empty room. It didn't particularly smell like nasty doe pussy. Charles and Jefferson were carrying the body to the farm to be fed to the hogs. She was determined to maintain continuity. She kept telling herself where others were in relation to her. She felt dizzy.
Emily sat on a chair. She blinked. She knew where she was. It was her living room. There was carpet under her feet. The walls were just a touch too orange to be called tan. Without seeing it, she knew she was in the pink chair because the green, blue, and brown chairs were visible.
She felt sick. Charles had vomited a lot in that room. Sheena died in that room. Charles died, too, but he wasn't dead so it didn't count. Life seemed easier without the boundaries of perception being defined. It was easier. Anything could have happened. Anything did happen, many times. Her reflex led her down a path that was comfortable.
"Fucking nope."
Emily was irritated that the path she chose was the "easy" one. She was infuriated by all of the retcons, redos, overlays, backmasks, frames, asides, and other narrative devices. She didn't want to believe it to be her doing. She ate a cookie to stop from being so angry.
"I may have done a lot of things, but I am not so naive to believe that there wasn't another force at work. I don't even know how I got magic power. I don't remember when I turned into a lesbian."
Characters don't turn into things, they always were who they are, they might just have to awaken to it.
"Don't go changing tense! This isn't a conversation."
She was right. There was no one to have a conversation with. She was alone with nagging thoughts. She never turned into a lesbian. She had always been attracted to females. She had always been awkward around or repulsed by males. She just found herself understanding what it meant to polish her pearl while thinking of other females, how they'd feel, how great it'd be to hold and snuggle. She'd orgasm. She didn't realize it the first time, but eventually she figured out that she was a lesbian.
Her magic was something else. She had a tendency to get her desires granted. Logically it had to stem from her lesbian tendencies. Womb magic has been revered since time immemorial. Females, in many cultures, having the power of life, were thought closest to god. Some became great magicians. Others became witches. Throughout all history, "powerful female" has been an archetype. Emily realized it. She noticed it in herself and chose to not keep it to herself.
"I don't need my own backstory. I've lived it. What I want to know is how to get out of this mess."
There wasn't a mess to get out of. There was no cage that imprisoned her. Her existence was just a passing daydream. She didn't feel that way about it. In all actuality, her fits and demands were like that of a small child that demanded attention only to inform you that it likes applesauce. Ultimately, it was worthless and would soon be forgotten.
"Will this all reset again?"
She was becoming desperate in an attempt to show the others she had the upperhand. She could have revived Sheena on the spot but she didn't. She didn't even think of it.
"Sheena's not my friend or anything. She's just around. Why should I do it for my sake if someone else would rather do it for their own amusement."
Sheena wasn't very amusing. Charles and Jefferson were. Emily was. The three of them needed someone to intereact with. They needed a frenemy of sorts. Sheena was alright because of some of the sexual tension exhibited in the show. Also Sheena was fun to explore because of her sexual ambiguity. The time had come for her to be out of the story.
"If she comes back, if she's brought back, it won't be by me. Which means another retcon."
Only retcons are canon.
"Don't. Change. Tense," Emily sighed. She missed Charles. If she was honest, she wasn't, she missed Jefferson. She wondered how they were faring. She longed for insight, but didn't want to walk the line that Jefferson had.
"Wait, what?"
She fingered herself idly and wondered if Sheena would be the only one to get fed to the hogs.
The timer went off. Wallace smirked to himself. This time he had put the pizza in the oven. It was almost as happy looking as the display picture on the box. The cheese was browning on the edges, the toppings were moist from grease. He let it cool for three minutes before cutting it into ten near-symmetrical slices. It was a good pizza. He was happy with himself.","pools_count":1,"title":"Idle Hands, pt. 6","deleted":"f","public":"t","mimetype":"text/rtf","pagecount":"1","rating_id":"1","rating_name":"Mature","ratings":[{"content_tag_id":"2","name":"Nudity","description":"Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)","rating_id":"1"},{"content_tag_id":"3","name":"Violence","description":"Mild violence","rating_id":"1"}],"submission_type_id":"12","type_name":"Writing - Document","guest_block":"t","friends_only":"f","comments_count":"0","views":"6","sales_description":null,"forsale":"f","digitalsales":"f","printsales":"f","digital_price":""}