(no subject)

I'm here. I exist. Really.

So, brain, let me ask you this. If you wanted to provide me with dreams about Heath Ledger, Jake Gyllenhall, Joaquin Phoenix, and at least a couple other hot young men... why couldn't they have been shagging? Why did it have to be fire and post-drunk vomiting and cheese? What's up with that? There were a couple other guys in the dream. Can't remember who they were though.

People are shooting up universities again. And Yahoo news says that a Bavarian politician wants to make marriage have an expiration date of seven years. I'm just not sure how I feel about that. On the other hand, it's about how long a lot of marriages last these days.

Chaos Theory amuses me lots. You should all go join. Those of you who are joined, you should play more. Or exactly the same amount.

If I go in to work again today and I have to do five hours' worth of catalog removals, there will be murders. Just saying. That was one of the most mindnumbing days I've spent doing emails ever. At least when I do customer service issues, yes, half of them can't type or spell and at least a third of them want completely ridiculous things (if we don't HAVE it, we can't ship it out to you pronto! We have to wait for the vendor to send it to us first! fucking morons) but it's problem solving. I can do problem solving. It keeps me entertained, especially when I get emails from Seth Green. No, not that Seth Green. But today? Catalog removals. I learned that I can do four catalog removals, complete with email notification and removing them in the system, in two minutes. Yay.

And then, coming home, topic responses, early dinner, and game. Yay game!

... This means I need to clear off the table. Well, crap.

[Fic] The Prodigal Son

Title: The Prodigal Son
Fandom: The Covenant
Characters: Chase, Caleb
Word Count: 1,789
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The prodigal son returns to Ipswich

Glass clinked against glass, dishes clattered in the kitchen, the slow murmur of conversation drifting around them. Caleb put up the aversion field so that people wouldn't be inclined to listen in; it made their service slower than proverbial molasses but it was worth it.

Especially since he didn't even want the others listening in on this conversation, or looking at who he was sitting with.

Chase looked older than the last time he'd seen him, which was explained by the fact that it had been six or seven years, but it wasn't just that. Chase was a man in his thirties, now, Caleb had just hit twenty five. And Chase was only two months older. It was sobering to look at him; there but for the grace of his friends, of Pogue, and all that. Something to remember every time he got the urge to make a quick fix.

It was also something to think about, and something to get used to, and beyond that he just wasn't sure what it was. Chase looked beat. To hell and back, and more than just physically; his eyes were strained and tired. Caleb couldn't imagine the man sitting in front of him now being the boy who had terrified him in his last year of high school. Psychotic, paranoid, destroying anything and everything in his way just to get that power he thought would help him live longer.

Chase just looked tired now, and as though he would be grateful for every second of life circumstance granted him.

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