| Disguises. |
[05 Oct 2009|02:45am] |
And fancy stuff.
    
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| Serial Satisfaction |
[02 Jul 2009|08:56pm] |
Rare moments of happiness.
(OOC: Here's the fullsize.)
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| A letter from AU Robyn to her other self. |
[25 Jul 2008|02:42pm] |
Dear me,
Alright all this shit is a little wacky but I think I finally figured it out. This is an alternate universe like some Sliders kinda shit. You’re an alternate version of me, but you’re not from this universe either, you’re from another one. You replaced someone here and then I replaced you. It’s weird though- I have this feeling like me being here is temporary. It's like something tugging at me, I can’t explain it but if I didn’t feel it I wouldn’t be writing this.
See, I blew both of my chances at freedom and got life in jail because of it. But this little interdimensional break has given me the opportunity to grant freedom to an alternate version of me. That’s right, I freed you from your little cult. You don’t have to call anyone “master” ever again. Because I care. About me. And you, because you’re me.
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| The urge to murder is starting to become unbearable. |
[01 Jul 2008|04:29am] |
| [ |
mood |
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Insatiable |
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| [ |
music |
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Sunna |
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I'm finding it... increasingly difficult to keep my temper from exploding. Just a few days ago, while I was training swords class, I was sparring with number 4. I uh, I cut off part of his pinky finger. That wouldn't have been so bad. Except, I was a little irritated that he'd let his guard slip so easily. I could have taken him to the hospital and stitched up the finger, no problem. Instead, I picked up the piece off the ground, looked him right in the eyes, and ate it.
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| Alternate Universe, Chicago- Jun 17th cont'd |
[17 Jun 2008|11:06am] |
“Oh my God she OD’d!”
“Robyn please can you hear me!”
“Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck-”
“She’s waking up!”
A cacophony of sound. Voices, muffled at first, rising her up to the surface of consciousness like waves. Yelling, telling others to be calm. A dull throb in her arm. Everything faded from indecipherably quiet to intolerably loud. The sterile smell of hospital overwhelmed her nose. A light shone in her closed eyes, painting the insides of her eyelids the color of blood. She snapped them open then quickly squinted them down to slits to avoid the bright florescent until she adjusted.
A crowd of medical staff surrounded her, checking her eyes and pulse. She tried to shake them off but they didn’t want to be shaken and so she let them prod her. Another crowd watched anxiously: a hulk of a man with a full Scandinavian beard and long blonde hair, a lanky dude in a wifebeater and skinny jeans, and a set of identical twins. They looked on like everything depended on Robyn waking up. They look like they care.
She stared at them hard. She had never seen them before in her life. “Who the fuck are you people?”
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| Amazon- Jun 17th |
[17 Jun 2008|10:53am] |
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Robyn did not have a degree in physics. In fact, having run away from home at the age of 13, she had not graduated college, high school, or even junior high. Even in grade school, her mind had been elsewhere- damaged- as, starting at the age of seven, she had been locked in a dog cage by her parents every day except school days.
But even she knew that what comes up, must come down. That the yacht the size of 100 mansions, which she and her fellow roadies (Klokateers) had been ordered to pull over the Amazonian mountain, would reach an apex and then fall once it teeter-tottered over the other side. So she was not quite surprised to see it barreling down upon her, breaking through the thick trees and brush, smearing her coworkers into paste on the jungle foliage.
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| A Serial Killer's Scrapbook |
[16 Jun 2008|04:09am] |
The complete scrapbook can be found here.
As I don't really feel like copying everything over.
So if you want to read Robyn's origins, go there.
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