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Date Posted: 08:43:16 02/24/02 Sun
Author: Ashti
Subject: Not A-Mused

Sometimes, I'm just too dense.. *shakes head at herself*

CD-fic alert!! ~_^ No Muse to be found herein. Might appear later, though. ^_^

Oh gods, that means I'll be writing more of these things.. *acks* Anyway, this one's 4 pages in Word, so enjoy it.

As for the disclaimer.. The only thing I own are my own characters and the plot *cough* of this story.

Anything else is owned by their respective creators. ^_^ I'm just 'borrowing'..

NOT A-MUSED

I swear, when I first started writing, I never knew it could be this tiring.

Sure, there had been the occasional Writer's Block you had to contend with, but..

"What, pray tell, do you think _you're_ doing?"

But..

I sighed deeply as I turned my head sideways a little to look at the two inch tall figure of a pale young man, with dark bangs that framed his handsome face, as he crossed his arms in front of him.

"Hmmm?"

He managed to look vaguely interested, for which I was im_men_sely grateful.

"I'm.." I started, then stopped as I frowned at him. "Why should I tell you anything? You can read, can't you?"

He sighed, shaking his head sadly. "It's called a plot contrivance. I'm sure that you, as a Writer, even though the title barely holds true in this sad case, would know one when they came across one."

I glared at the Creativity Demon, for that's what you call little critters that run around your room wreaking havoc and creating chaos in order to make their Writer write about them.

The horror!

"Watch that mouth of yours, I wrote you into being, after all."

"A fact," the young man said as he dipped his head in a _very_ minor show of respect, "greatly appreciated by myself and.."

"Imre! There y'are! I've been lookin' all over th'room f'you! This place is HUGE!"

Imre, the pale dark-haired young man sighed deeply and shook his head a bit before turning to look at the slightly stocky, blonde-haired young man who was currently running across the couch before leaping upwards and landing neatly on the desk which also held my computer.

"Hop!"

"Hello Darren.." Imre sounded very happy to have the other here, didn't he?

Darren, who was a touch rosier than his lily-skinned colleague, grinned happily as he walked towards the Mouse and began pushing it around over the Mouse-pad with the pretty full moon on it.

He liked that.

He also liked the way the thingy on the screen moved whenever he pushed the Mouse.

"Darren, stop that." I realised I was whining a little as I waved him away from _my_ Mouse and put the cursor where it didn't bother me, but hey, I had a right to whine. They were _bothering_ me, after all.

He pouted a little as he went to stand next to the other Creativity Demon, who, as I will mention now, was a bit taller than Darren.

I stuck my tongue out at the two in a very mature display of childishness.

So there.

Darren, not really caring about the Written Words (you barbarian!) and I suspected not too good at reading to begin with, returned the gesture with fervour.

Imre, on the other hand, facepalmed, muttering something quite similar to 'I'm surrounded by idiots..'

I couldn't be certain though..

"So, whatcha doin'?" Darren again, blinking his cerulean orbs at me in an effort to look cute (and succeeding just fine, I might add) and get me to spray some secrets.

Imre looked up at that, since that was what he wanted to know as well. Otherwise he wouldn't have gone through the trouble of bothering me.

Okay, so he would have still bothered me, but that's besides the point I'm trying to make here..

Never mind.

"What does it look like? I'm writing online."

"Ooh! That's where you write about us, innit? Are y'right now?" He turned around to look at the screen showing my start up page of the Utopian Boards.

"I just finished, but yes."

Why on earth I was saying this to someone who'd no doubt forget whatever I told him as soon as he found something more interesting to do or ask about (i.e. most things related to fighting..) was beyond me.

Nevertheless, there I was.

"Ah."

My eyes narrowed on their own accord. I didn't quite like the way Imre said that.

It implied that he knew something. Or at least _believed_ he knew something. To top that off, he looked quite satisfied while believing he knew something.

Smug, even.

"Ah?" I repeated.

He smiled benignedly up at me ('Benign, as in, what you be after you be eight?' 'Suuure, Darren..' 'Neat!') from his spot on the desk heavily cluttered with CD's (the regular kind), diskettes containing Bursts of Inspiration, along with the occasional Blurps and the rare Finished Pieces as well.

"Ah. As in there will be a lot of words dedicated to me, then."

Yep. Smug definitely was the right word, here..

Still, I rose an eyebrow at him, wondering. I hadn't exactly written him to be selfish, or even arrogant for that matter.

You see, the more you wrote about a character, the more power you grant its Creativity Demon and the stronger it will become.

Up until the point you finished writing about them. Then they'd vanish into the night as silently as they had been dreamed into being.

But how would Imre know that?

I snorted. "Right. And what makes you think that?"

He smirked slightly, looking at me with half-lidded eyes. "Because most of the time you write a post for Helena, Darren and myself, it's from my point of view."

The smirk turned into a grin. "I don't mind."

I Glared at him, doing my best to imitate the way I imagined Alruna would at her 'friend' whenever he showed up uninvited and managed to turn her life of relative routine into a mess..

Imre was not impressed.

The rational part of my mind spoke up, saying that he better not be impressed since I'd written him like that to begin with and for a moment a perverted sense of motherly pride fought against the emotional part of my mind.

That part was being very obnoxious and loud, stating that he could at least have the decency to be polite.

Which he wasn't.

"Just because I'm writing on the boards, doesn't mean I'm writing about _you_, you know. I do have other interests than the dysfunctional Wedlock family.."

Darren 'eh'ed at that, most likely wondering what dysfunctional meant while Imre merely smiled at me in that not so nice manner of his.

I angrily swiped at the annoying Creativity Demons, getting quite fed up with their constant meddling.

Darren yelped before jumping off the desk in an effort to escape my wrath. I didn�t pay him anymore attention as he fell/tumbled to the rug on the ground below. Creativity Demons tended to be as indestructible as they were annoying.

Besides, I was preoccupied with Imre. The stupid prat had the nerve to turn into gas and wait until my hand had passed before becoming solid again.

A Shadow Passage opened behind him as he lifted his chin and gave me a cool gaze.

"We.." he said, "are not amused."

"Neither am I," I snapped at him and swatted at him again as he backed into the Shadow Passage while showing his disapproval.

The Passage disappeared, thankfully and I allowed myself a strangled sound.

Mweh. Stupid Creativity Demons..

Hah! I'd show them.

I perked up a bit as I closed the Internet Explorer window and opened a Microsoft Words Window.

Just for that, I was going to write on that Temporal Displacement story again. That'd teach them not to mess with me!

And so I went on, completely oblivious to what happened on the closet on the far end of the room.

Stupid prats..

~~

On the aforementioned far side of the room, on top of a closet, a pale young man of about two inches stepped out of a Shadow Portal, dusting himself off, while muttering under his breath.

Not that he needed any, what with him being a Vampire, but still.

The Shadow Passage closed behind him with a dismissive wave of his hand. Imre tilted his head a little, concentrating on something beyond him.

"Aaaand?"

Slowly, the stylishly dressed Wedlock Vampire turned to face another Creativity Demon.

White haired, rose-skinned and pointy-eared not to mention grinning like the mad hatter, this one was clad in apparently thirteenth century clothing and sitting in the air.

Imre smirked at the other.

"As anticipated, she has stopped dawdling on the boards and is Working on 'Temporal Displacement'."

"Excellent!"

"Indeed."

"Thanks pal, ol' buddy o'mine, I coulda done it myself but then.."

The Wedlock Vampire Creativity Demon snorted. "But then she'd known you were in on it and then she'd be Writing something else now."

The Avalonian grinned. "Exactly. Now, who did you say did you want off your back for a few days?"

Imre rolled his dark eyes. "Who do you think? Helena of course. And no fancy tricks, Puck. Just make sure she doesn't kill me."

The Puck smiled, "Don't worry. I'll give Alex a lesson or two to work with.."

He winked before poofing off to where-ever it is that Creativity Demons go when they're not bothering their Writer.

Imre followed and the room went quiet save for the almost uninterrupted tapping of fingers on keyboards.

~~

See what I have to work with?

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Replies:

Re: Not A-Mused -- Baeraad, 22:57:56 02/25/02 Mon
- Re: Not A-Mused -- Ashti, 05:25:28 02/26/02 Tue