Completely Random
[Heh heh heh... That's sad... I just walked into my room from the living room area, and I couldn't help but cackle. It's kinda like walking through time, in a way. You come into the house through the living room, which is all dark and stuff because it has pinewood panelling (see below for more whining on that subject); it's got a few lights, but only one of 'em's on. My mom's on the couch reading some paperback or other next to the only turned-on lamp. There're moose heads and deer heads and squirrel tails and pictures of / metal hanging things of birds all over the walls, and she's got candles lit all over the place at the moment. She's listening to plain simple (very well played) Irish flute tunes. You pass through the dining area, which is essentially the same and only divided by the back of the couch (it's just one big room; I'm the only one that differentiates between the two), and take a left into the next room.]
[You go through the Captain's Quarters slash Media Center slash Other Living Room. It's fairly bright, since all of the blinds are open; there are four or five lamps in the room, but only one's on, and since it's in the back corner you don't really notice. But the walls and the bookshelves are white, and the suns's coming in through all four windows, so it's fairly bright. There's a semi-old-fashioned barometer and a ship's wheel on the wall with the three windows and a model of a racing sailboat backlighted by the fourth window; right next to the boat is as desk that you can hardly see because its rather small surface is absolutely drowned in computer bits and accessories. Backed into the far corner, between two of the bookshelves, is the little stand thing with the TV, VCR, DVD player, and surround-sound thing. It's on wheels ^_^]
[Then you come to my room. It's...er...full. The blinds are half-open, and I've only got one real lamp, which at the moment is on because I couldn't read my Spanish textbook. Usually it's off until nightfall, though. So it's relatively light, but also shadowed, and as opposed to the white light of the Captain's Quarters it's more yellow-y. The first thing you see when you walk in is the seven-acre fake wooden desk I stole from my dad; it's got about four square feet of surface space left, as compared to the twenty-odd square feet of surface area it actually has. The hidden part is covered by a computer, monitor, mini-b&w TV-lantern / lamp / radio thing, fan, seventy container type things with pencils and all of the above, about six alarm clocks (only one of which works), and several stacks of paper and books. By the time you digest this you've begun to notive that the dresser, just to the right of the desk, also serves as a place for the printer and piano-keyboard, not to mention another stack of books. Oh, and sometimes clothes...those usually end up on the floor, though. Then you happen to glance over at the far wall. It's pretty much invisible, due to the three sets of bookshelves, all of which are pretty much overflowing. Just to the left of those is another bookshelf and a cabinet thing with doors, where I keep most of my old schoolwork. And wedged in between the bookshelf-wall and the edge of the seven-acre-desk is my bed. It's got about eight gazillion pillows, which is sad because I only actually use one or two at night...the big fleecey ones I leave on my computer chair, and I knock the other one off. I've usually got some sort of chanties or John Williams or anime or Jimmy Buffet music playing, or if it's Irish it's usually more singing and harmonization stuff than my mom listens to.]
[Oh, and did I mention that my room is literally right next to the living room, and that there are two open windows in the wall between the two...and yet, I can barely hear the music out there, and out there you almost can't hear mine at all. I'm currently watching the cat come through the window and sniff the afore-mentioned pillows with something akin to disdain. Now she's climbing into my bookshelf... *sigh* And there goes the stack of papers I was hoping she wouldn't knock over. Katty's haulin' rear out of here now. This room is a death trap if you don't know where things are...]
[...what was the point of all that? I don't know. I don't care. I think I'm gonna write something now...]
Not Quite, Part II
Part II
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel for tonight, Joey," Yugi said.
"What? But why? I know you don't have any homework, so don't even try that excuse."
"It's not that," Yugi said hurriedly. "Something...er...came up." Boy, was that lame.
Joey apparently thought so, too, and his mock-hurt tone immediately shifted to one of concern. He knew from past - and rather painful - experience that Yugi never hid anything unless it was serious. "Come on, Yug, what's wrong? Tell me."
"It's nothing, I swear..."
Joey frowned. "Spit it out, buddy."
The spiky-haired duelist sighed. "It's the spirit of the Puzzle," he explained reluctantly. "He's not feeling so well recently, and...well, I'm afraid to leave him alone for too long."
"Whaddya mean, 'not feeling so well'?" the blonde asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought those guys couldn't get sick."
"It's not like that. He's...depressed, I guess. He keeps having these strange fits. I'm afraid he'll forget where - or rather, when - he is, and hurt himself."
No more than he deserves, the arrogant bastard, Joey thought, but he kept his feelings to himself. "Well, if you're sure," he agreed reluctantly. "Remember, if you need anything, just give me a call, all right? I'll have Téa bring her cell phone, so you can reach us at the arcade."
"You got it," Yugi replied with a smile. "Thanks, Joey. You're a good friend."
"Later, Yug." The blonde hung up with a quiet sigh.
Tristan stood and offered the bowl of chips, frowning when his friend declined. "Hey, what's wrong? You never turn down food."
Joey jerked his thumb toward the phone, saying, "That was Yugi. He can't come tonight."
"Well, why not?"
"Yami's sick, apparently."
"But we spirits don't get sick. It's physically impossible."
"Shut it, Bakura, and let Ryou back out...I like him better. Besides, I don't mean cold-sick. I'm talkin' pycho-sick."
It was the albino Egyptian's turn to raise an eyebrow. "And since when is that new? It's Pharaoh-baka. I already told you, he's never been right in the head. Or at least not since he became Pharaoh - I didn't know him before then."
"Ryou, do us all a favor and kick your other half out of the captain's chair," Joey sighed. The spirit frowned, but the Ring glowed slightly and his hair fell to more normal proportions as his eyes softened; Ryou had taken control again.
"Yami's right, though," he said. It seemed he'd been listening in. "He's shown me his memories - the pharaoh's never been completely sane. Yugi knows that. Why would he get so nervous now?"
"My question precisely," the blonde replied, stealing the chips from Tristan and plopping down on the couch. There were a few moments of silence before he jumped back up. "Ah, crap! I gotta tell Téa to bring her cell phone. I hope she hasn't already left!"
The Kaiba household was quiet. Of course, it was never loud anyway, seeing as how the vast majority of the rooms were locked and there were rarely more than three or four people there at a time, but now it was quieter than usual. Mokuba had gone to bed early and Seto had retreated to his bedroom with his laptop.
[To be continued later, when inspiration returns and this post-dinner about-to-pop feeling leaves...]
Random Quote of the Day:
Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside.
- Mark Twain
