#bored writing

[thefightingbull]

Sequestered

3 weeks. 21 days. 504 hours. 30,240 minutes. 1,814,400 seconds.

Jason was doing math. In his head. Because he was bored. Worse? He was irritated. Not because of the boredom, but because he was going to spend nearly two million seconds sequestered from the rest of the world with his brothers inside an 864 sq. ft. apartment.

“It’ll be a well-deserved vacation,” Dick smiled genially from the kitchen table. “The JL can take care of whatever is happening out there.”

“-tt- As if anyone of us will survive this quarantine,” Damian scowled. He was perched on the back of the couch that Jason was currently lying on.

“As long as you behave yourself, we’ll be fine,” Tim replied sitting at Jason’s small table with his laptop on the opposite side of Dick. “Besides, you didn’t have to come along, Demon Spawn.”

“Neither did you,” Jason pointed out beneath at least three thick blankets. “Actually, not a fucking one of you needed to show up! In fact, had you not, you could be out there with Bruce instead of taking up my clean air, my food, and my limited fucking space!”

Not one of his brothers showed him an ounce of pity or sympathy. They all three looked at him with their varying shades of light-colored eyes. Damian looked disgusted. Tim snarky, and Dick? Well, Dick might have looked at him with a touch of guilt in his eyes.

Dick should though. This whole stupid thing was his fault. Dickie-Bird heard that Jason had a fever and just had to show up to check on him. While he was at it, Golden Boy might as well drag their dipshit brothers along and really make everyone uncomfortable. It wasn’t like the whole nation was about to panic and insist on quarantine’s or anything.

Jason sniffed hard, trying to rearrange the “congestion” in his sinus cavities.

“Just blow your nose, Jason,” Tim sneered as he scrunched his own.

“Fuck you, it’s my house, I’ll deal with my mucus however the hell I want!” he grumbled, ignoring the croaky quality of his voice.

“Guys let’s not fight. We’re just at the beginning of this quarantine. We can’t be at each other’s throats already.” Dick frowned.

“This is lame,” Damian huffed and slid down to rest atop Jason’s ankles. “You don’t think they’ll forget to feed my pets?”

Jason’s heart softened just a touch at the concern Damian showed toward another living being. He tried to sigh but ended up coughing instead. Luckily, Dick was on it.

“Alfred would never forget about the animals in your room, Dami,” The oldest offered gently.

“Unless you’re hiding more than he knows about, then those ones will probably starve,” Tim shrugged.

Jason shouldn’t have laughed, but he couldn’t help it. It was vicious and nasty and very much in Tim’s wheelhouse when it came to Damian. He kind of liked Tim’s dark side. The kid took a lot of shit from Damian in particular. It was good to see him stand up for himself.

“Tim!” Dick scolded. “That’s not funny, Jason!”

“My cell phone is dead, let me use yours, Todd.”

Jason rolled his eyes and pulled the phone from his pocket. He really didn’t mean for tickle in his nose to catch him off guard, but it did and Jason wound up sneezing on his phone when he instinctively brought up his hands.

“Gross!” Tim chuckled.

Dick however came to the rescue as usual. One hand held out some tissues for Jason and the other was handing Damian the requested cell phone. “I’ll grab you some wipes for your phone, Jason,”

“Thanks,” Jason mumbled, tossing the slimed device on the coffee table beside the couch.

Damian pulled out his cell phone and immediately started trying to get a hold of Alfred. “Alfred? I… I have a raccoon. It’s in my closet. Yes. I know… Up in the crawl space… You will? You promise?”

“I know I’m surprised, how about you guys?” Tim snickered.

Jason grinned, as Damian flipped Tim off. Dick frowned at the antics, but he was moving about Jason’s apartment. His older brother took the liberty of cleaning up, a rarity in and of itself, but Jason wouldn’t argue. He wasn’t going to touch his phone again until it was clean.

“You know, I don’t have the virus they think I do,” Jason explained. “It’s just a common cold.”

“No one’s going to let us take that chance,” Tim sighed. “Bruce says he’ll have some supplies dropped off, but I gotta say, I’m more worried about him.”

Jason shook his head. “Don’t be. Without us around to bug him, he’ll be a lot more effective. Especially since most of the criminals are hiding, too. It’s not like they can just waltz into a hospital if they get sick.”

Dick blinked as he held Jason’s phone in one gloved hand, the other scrubbing down the device with an electronic safe sanitary wipe. “You know, that’s actually a good point. Black Mask isn’t offering medical and neither is Two-Face.”

“Penguin and Black Mask might,” Tim disagreed. “They both have a legitimate business.”

“Maybe they have a bad guy hospital,” Jason laughed. “Could you imagine?”

Timothy grinned. “Half of them seem to be doctors, it wouldn’t surprise me.”

Even Damian couldn’t help but snicker. “-tt- Mr. Freeze is the safest in his suit. They’d make him do all the check ups and testing.”

“Harley would be on hand for psychological support,” Dick added with a barely restrained laugh.

“For as poor and pathetic as our city is, education is of the utmost importance in Gotham. Especially among criminals,” Jason smiled to himself. “Speaking of doctors gone evil, I wanna watch Hannibal.”

“You can’t, Dami’s too young,” Dick denied.

“What!” Jason exclaimed.

“He’s an assassin Dick, I doubt there’s anything more gruesome than his own actions on that show,” Tim shrugged.

“It’s happens to contain graphic sex, gaslighting, and other themes that are not suitable for children!” Dick defended his stance.

“Did you read that off the Parental Guidance box?” Jason asked suspiciously.

“I’m not a baby. I can handle a primetime television show,” Damian insisted.

“No,” Dick shook his head. “I am not giving on this, find something appropriate to watch.”

Jason grinned triumphantly and pointed immediately to his shelf of movies and television series. “Pride and Prejudice, it is! I want the BBC series with Colin Firth, top shelf, third to the left.”

Dick’s eyes widened at his mistake as Tim and Damian groaned. Jason coughed for effect, pulling his brother from the agony of his defeat. He clapped his hands in the obnoxious “chop, chop” call to action that Jason knew irritated everyone.

Three weeks with his brothers? It might be a small space, but it was his small space, filled with his favorite things. He had hours and hours of books to listen to, read, or thanks to miniseries events, watch. After Pride and Prejudice he might even go with Jane Eyre just to really torture them all.

They thought they had him beat when the quarantine was first announced. Ha! They’d crack long before he did.

[whichrunsred]

It wasn’t often that he was like this, but the contributing factors were just all there today, and so the taste of defeat was lingering heavily in his mouth along with the blood on his tongue. He knew there was danger in working on rainy days, and the water pouring down onto him was now just an insult to injury, though it did help wash away the blood from his dozen stab wounds. He let out a hard breath, his back against a brick wall being the only reason he was even still sitting up, and did his best to stay awake even though he knew his quirk would do nothing until he could get somewhere dry or the rain stopped. He couldn’t drag himself anymore though, the strength simply wasn’t there, and that fluffy red hair on top of his head was not just a wet weight slowly trying to drag him onto his side, but he was certain if he went down he wouldn’t get up again.

“God.. dying like this would suck.”

He looked over at his broken phone, which when realizing it had been damaged in the fight he threw rather violently at the ground, and just let out a sigh, this was why people worked at hero offices. Always have someone to have your back. Richard gave off a little laugh, thinking about how his parents managed to do this solo work in their younger years, maybe he was just ass at being a hero, or was just trying to fly too close to the sun.

“Moms gonna be pissed.”

[behind-the-veil-of-sanity]

[oftenby]

post

in an upside down automobile,

broken glass all over,

gritting my teeth,

rumbling in my throat,

iron in my mouth,

eyes clamped shut

like someone just opened

the ark of the covenant,

that’s when i knew you were the one.

[tiavonnada]

Like everything else I write “Untitled”

The barrel of the sawed-off shotgun stared him in the face. Focusing on the two large black holes, he couldn’t look at the hate in her eyes. She was furious and he was...trapped, bound to a chair like a hostage. “Where are you from?” Her voice sung with notes of anger and suspicion throughout the dimly lit room, deep and steady. He felt the drops of sweat roll down his cheek, cold by the time they reached his chin. No words formed as he tried to open his mouth. How could they? “Who sent you here?” A second question, her voice no longer hurried, gentle almost. The man noticed a hint of an accent, but he couldn’t place it.

“I…” he stammered. The words caught in his throat.

The barrel jammed into his nose and his breath quickened. Oh god, I’m going to die! “Answer me! Answer one of my god damned questions! Why the fuck are you in my house?”

“I was hungry!” He shouted, matching her volume. “I haven’t eaten in days,” His voice trailed off. He felt the shotgun pull away from his nose. He was so afraid to look at his captor. She bested him in a fist fight and tied him down to the chair while he laid unconscious and bleeding.

The look in her dark brown eyes was sad and sympathetic, he wasn’t exactly sure. She sat on the edge of an old bathtub and he wondered if it could still be used. She looked clean...at least cleaner than him. Her shotgun sat over her knees as she eyed him with the utmost suspicion, unsure of his intentions and the truth of his statement. “What’s your name?” Fingers in front of her mouth, pondering her next moves. It was as if his name would determine whether he lived or died.

“Katsuo,” he held his breath.

“Johanna. You from here?”

“Are you?” He quipped back. It was a question from his childhood that he hated and it still bothered him, but it was bold. He expected her to backhand slap him, but, instead, she cracked a smile.

“Did you come here alone? Or were you followed?” The smile disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced. Katsuo found himself wanting to see it again. He shook his head; it had been so long since he’d seen another human being and not one of those things that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Sighing, Johanna stood and produced a machete the size of her forearm, “You can have some food, but you leave right after that. I don’t need another mouth to feed.” Sawing at the ropes that bound him, he felt the blood flowing back to his fingers. The burning and tingling sensation stung as he flexed them.

Following her through the house, Katsuo finally felt brave enough to look at Johanna’s face in full. Her skin was such a rich and warm brown that it reminded him of a setting sun similar to the one before them now and her black braids were tied in a knot, a few loose around her thin face. Her eyes held an intensity and mistrust that could only come from years of living alone with no one but these creatures as her companions. A slender yet shapely body hid under the kevlar vest and cargo pants. Her arms had cuts of muscle that years of hard labor had gifted her. She was a hard woman, there was no denying that.

Johanna was clean, no smudges of dirt on her face and little on her clothing. Katsuo found himself a little embarrassed as he stared down at his own filthy tee shirt. No longer white, it sported brown, red, green stains and had somehow gotten purple on there. What did he touch that was purple? He fingered his own thick black hair that grew almost over his eyes, matted and caked with dirt and blood. Katsuo knew that the beard he wore barely constituted as one compared to those of other men; it was sporadic and wispy like that of a teenaged boy.

Johanna stopped at a door and looked him over as if seeing him for the first time, a strange glint in her eyes, disgust he was sure. “Do you wanna bathe before you eat?” The harshness of her voice seemed permanent, but she meant to be kind. Katsuo nodded eagerly as she changed directions to another part of the house.

He had barely paid attention to the layout, just kept his eyes on this woman. The first human he’d seen in over a year and he didn’t want her out of his sight. He hardly noticed that they walked into another bathroom where she drew water from a faucet. The steam rose and flushed his skin, breathing a vigor that only came from heat and humidity. “How do you still have water that’s working?” Johanna didn’t answer, but nodded her head towards the tub as she left, closing the door behind her. Katsuo wanted her to stay, but asking for that may have been asking for too much.

Peeling the clothing off of his body and stepping into the scalding water felt as if nothing else in the world mattered; that he was nothing, that the world filled with those turned humans were nothing, they couldn’t get to where he was right now. Nothing could and a meal to boot? This was his lucky day. The water seeped into every aching muscle in his body and he felt his eyelids grow heavy…

Slam! Screeecchhh! Slam! Pop! Pop! Pop! Gunshots fired nearby; screaming followed closely behind. Katsuo opened his eyes. The water had gone cold and the lights flickered. What was going on? He grabbed the towel that wasn’t there before and wrapped it around his waist, still dripping.

Running towards the sounds, he saw Johanna fighting off white hands that clawed and scratched at her, drawing blood wherever the hands lay. The screams from the owners of those hands sounded inhuman, unnatural piercings that could break any sound barrier. A crash and broken glass flung towards him as another set of hands reached for the new flesh. Hissing and screaming, these were the creatures he had come to know.

Their bald heads reflected the moonlight poorly. Their skins were as white as soured milk and smelled about the same. Dead, decaying and rotted flesh. Their lips were gone, showing nothing but blackened gums and canines. These were no longer human beings, but I was told that we can reverse these conditions. Katsuo looked over to Johanna who was shouting at him.

“Get the damn gun and shoot these motherfuckers!” Another gunshot rang through his ears as he reached for her waistband to retrieve the M9. Pop! Pop! Pop! They pulled away a little just to be replaced by ten more. They seemed endless. They always traveled in packs and tore at the flesh of whatever they caught like starved vultures. It was tragic when the outbreak first happened. For days and days outside of his window of his apartment, screaming, crying, and gunfire were the only sounds he heard until it had gone radio silent. Until the first pack of these things moved on to their next targets. That had been years ago. A lifetime ago.

[behind-the-veil-of-sanity]

The introduction of penality loops for drivers taking the wrong way around roundabouts were not only morally questionable, but also raised the fundamental question about sanity of frogs and the future of deers. I declined with honours.

[oftenby]

________

is something

I’d rather not be

reminded of