To write

The slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on. *** They say chivalry is dead and yet, here am I.

[miskatonicismytonic]

note: 2014, I started tinkering w/ a few of my own lyrics for a Re-Animator Musical...I in no way claim to be associated with any of the original talents involved in the production of Stuart Gordon’s Re-animator: The Musical

West: [sing-song]

I care not what you think of me, Hill

Nor even about getting credit

The outcome is life

My life is the work

I shall not stand by

Inundated

Humiliated

This grip on the will is injustice – insanity!

To take what you want and have done as you say

Pompous jerk!

Or raising an army of ghouls as you may

West: [spoken]

Doctor? *chuckles* You're not even a second-rate scientist!

Cain? This is between you and I! Leave-him-out of this!

[miskatonicismytonic]

Danke, Liebling

[miskatonicismytonic]

“Alas, the two of them”

I loved the waves But the sand always The strands took issue with my roman style sandals Shoes take care of themselves Tiffs blow off The cry of the sea The roar of the gull The push and pull of the tide A perfect moment Alas, the two of them were never seen Walking Without going hand in hand If I had the power I would’ve separated them, one from the other That I might enjoy only the breeze But had I done so that could’ve changed even the moment The timing was right; I ran But the bond grew stronger still Who gave them this power? Was it worth more than piece of mind? As though they had no say in this union Waving, I waded and I kicked They could not hear my voice over the birds I returned, for years, everyday, hoping this dissatisfaction would quell What used to be black, washed to grey They both perhaps whithered, respectively But wear did not keep them apart A clear day, I found myself alone The romans had retaliated, and I now marched bare into their territory Had my persistent fuss payed off? They were there, the pair, but one receded quickly at the other’s touch I didn’t accept refunds One approached me I could not believe what must’ve been said To see the other just finally go It was madness that I should have any part in this The two were such opposites Back and forth, I hadn’t made any progress Neither would hear of a reunion I regretted the simple mistake I had made in selfishness I could not stand to see such fine white material pooling in the water Back and forth I never gave in But the departed whispered they did not mind the dirt I went ahead; one direction was taken instead of two I had managed to cut one off on in their path I do not mean any of those things I did? I have staved the star of shining sea To challenge the embodiment of nature I have commited man’s greatest treachery

[catatonicfrommiskatonic]

Re-animator (Sleigh Ride)

Just hear those bones saws buzzin'in, zing zing zing'ling zoom Come hear this 'lovely' lecture for a full lobotomy, eww Inside the grades are falling the Dean is calling "Why you?" Come hear this 'lovely' lecture for a full lobotomy, eww

Better yet, better yet, better yet, you get, a job in sideshow, No wonder that Dan Cain's girl screamed "no!" Better yet, Better yet, Better yet, it's grand, reattaching your hand, We're going along with a plan of dead man from Switzerland! The cheeks are spliced and bloody and buddy buddy are we We're huddled up together like birdlungs of a feather would be Let's "make a note!" before us and wake a stunt-man or two Come hear this 'lovely' lecture for a full lobotomy, eww

There's a fun'ral party at the home of Doctor Graves It'll be the ending to a less-than-perfect day We'll be using the tools we love to use without you yelling "stop!" At the crematory while we watch the eyeballs pop. Pop! Pop! Pop!

Experimentation no one in the world should try, when they pass from this world - damn we need an alibi! Lieutenant's collecting finger prints from all around the school These dead-undead things are the things that remind me we are such fools! Just hear Christchurch bells jingling, ring ting tingling too Come hear this 'lovely' lecture for a full lobotomy, eww Outside the ghouls are robbing The cat is yowling "mew mew" Come hear this 'lovely' lecture for a full lobotomy, eww

Better yet, better yet, better yet, you get, a job in sideshow, No wonder that Dan Cain's girl screamed "no!" Better yet, Better yet, Better yet, it's grand, reattaching your hand, We're going along with a plan of dead man from Switzerland!

The cheeks are spliced and bloody and buddy buddy are we We're huddled up together like birdlungs of a feather would be Let's "make a note!" before us and wake a stunt-man or two Come hear this lovely lecture for a full lobotomy, eww

[arena-of-the-unwell]

The cars droned by on a London road, hollow hulls full of life and oncoming storms of social anxiety - perhaps for themselves, perhaps saved to rain over another.

The man, straddling a low set stool, stabbed at his leg as the smoke, urbane in its seamless transitions, engulfed his head and squeezed his lungs inward. And the organs popped outward again but with an unpleasant twang and a brooding, viscous ripple. The sink dripped. His mind bled unintelligible. The apartment was old but the man inside rather young still. The blinds dropped. The lights of the cars bothered his eyes and he closed his eyes half shut and stabbed at his leg again, letting the incessant blood flow. It was necessary. He was inflicted - body and soul - mind and matter, if souls and divinity were but false. The traffic was green, polluted, not for go. The haze grew thicker and the man coughed not to dispel nor to harrow and lay there quite still as to welcome the push and hold of the poison as it entered his veins and stuffed up his central command.

[miskatonicismytonic]

"I'm sure I'll at least claim that I appreciate /whatever/ you decide to get me."

[miskatonicismytonic]

Walston, darling! What do you want for Christmas this year?

"That information is forbidden under Secret Santa Act, ‘clause’ 42…*humours self with fake laughter* I dunno. Do I look like a starry-eyed, credulous, over-privileged guttersnipe?”

“But — since you asked sweetly…The robotics in my newly opening Dickens simulator to run smoothly…standing room only at the playhouse…fresh faces for my (really) old repertoire…colour to my hair?  Merry Christmas, Happy Festivus — Now get back to your tape X behind the curtain!”

[stunningpicture]

Spotted while house-hunting, unfortunately it wasn’t for sale.

[heatherp82]

This house is fabulous

[miskatonicismytonic]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

For what its worth, the first (and thus far only) part of a Frighteners and BTTF crossover I started last year.

[miskatonicismytonic]

propheticfire

'Sometimes.' My, Phire, if that is supposed to be a compliment, well, I advise you had best rethink your principles of adulation {should you wish to keep a steady job in theatrics} Now. . .Where did I put that little ol' sub caliber device?

[miskatonicismytonic]

"Oh, I kid merely! {not} Come give uncle Wally a ths-queeze."

[miskatonicismytonic]

Walston darling, how much would it cost for a snuggle?

"Whatever {or whoever} its worth, of course."

[catatonicfrommiskatonic]

“Unwind, mate; facilitate—and reverberate.” Danny’s eyes flickered behind his shades, two cooled flames, as he very distantly watched his client’s habits. With one hand he popped off the plastic head of the little doll and with the remaining, unoccupied fingers wriggled expectantly for the promised two quid. The man, still shaken in a stupor from last week’s fix, aimed to pass the currency as urbanely as he might prosper.

"Lanky, spade," called Danny defiantly (though in no soothed state would the remark have been sincere) frisking his curly curtains of hair away from his face as the meagre-boned addict sauntered away eagerly, heading under the crumbling overpass leading to Chalk Farm road.

The dealer looked like a soggy emu in a new pair of clogs not ideally shaped for its species, perusing the windows and technicoloured stalls of the Camden Town Market. Marwood had convinced Withnail to “trade” for his (more recently) unpaid hits. The latter was far behind in dept and as Danny had left his previous pair behind in some alley on a moment’s split, Peter (Marwood) took it upon ethics to buy a new pair of purple felts for the pill pimp and call the deal square—and the living area free of any other squarely dressed pharmaceutical purveyors.

[catatonicfrommiskatonic]

Would anybody want me to do some character-based drabble requests over the next few days?  I’ll do pretty much any character, that is if I have seen or read the source material, but I’d rather go for something a little different; not the usual suspects, such as Re-ani.  I’m going to start a Danny (Withnail & I) one (at my own entertainment’s expense) and I’d like to have some others to fill out the rest of the day/week.  “Anyone…anyone?”

[octoswan]

I made these as a way to compile all the geographical vocabulary that I thought was useful and interesting for writers. Some descriptors share categories, and some are simplified, but for the most part everything is in its proper place. Not all the words are as useable as others, and some might take tricky wording to pull off, but I hope these prove useful to all you writers out there!

(save the images to zoom in on the pics)

[luminoustico]

When characters don’t do what I want them to do:

[bescripturient]

Bad writing precedes good writing. This is an infallible rule, so don’t waste time trying to avoid bad writing. (That just slows down the process.) Anything committed to paper can be changed. The idea is to start, and then go from there.

Janet Hulstrand (via saltspray)