A More Peaceful Endeavor - Revision history

Joysweeper at 20:23, 7 September 2008

2008-09-07T20:23:46Z

Joysweeper at 03:03, 31 March 2008

2008-03-31T03:03:38Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 22:03, 30 March 2008
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	Isabelle doesn't move very fast, but she doesn't tire either, and with legs that big she could cover a surprising amount of distance. Dove gets fatigued, but only needs a few minutes here and there to recover. The pace was limited mostly by me and my sun-struck pain. I now know what arthritis must be like. Even so, we got a lot farther than we would have as humans, I think. We also got completely and totally lost by the time it got dark.		Isabelle doesn't move very fast, but she doesn't tire either, and with legs that big she could cover a surprising amount of distance. Dove gets fatigued, but only needs a few minutes here and there to recover. The pace was limited mostly by me and my sun-struck pain. I now know what arthritis must be like. Even so, we got a lot farther than we would have as humans, I think. We also got completely and totally lost by the time it got dark.

	Which was also when the hunger started. Yeah. Not fun. I can't say whether it's better to be hungry like that in the midst of potential food sources or out in the woods, surrounded by things that ~~aren~~'t really ~~worth eating~~.		Which was also when the hunger started. Yeah. Not fun. I can't say whether it's better to be hungry like that in the midst of potential food sources or out in the woods, surrounded by things that can't be thought of as edible. There weren't even any cats, and all that crashing around drove away whatever other animals were there. And none of us, apparently, had senses keen enough to guide us back to civilization. Who knew the woods around Orlando were so big?

			There was a brackish pond that we came across. I know brackish is bad, but I drank as much as I could hold, trying to pry my stomach away from my spine. It didn't really help.

			Hunger and thirst are the same urge, to a vampire, and it isn't really the same as human hunger or human thirst. It's a little like getting a really bad itch when you're out in a very public space, where enough people are looking your way that you don't dare scratch. You tell yourself that if you ignore it, it'll go away, but all it does is get stronger and stronger. I see heads nodding. You ''know''. It's like not blinking - effortless at first, and maybe you can keep it up for a while, but you know, eventually, that your eyes will close, and they start to sting and water. It's like being very conscious of every breath. Can't keep it up. Eventually you fail. Eventually, what you're trying to keep from happening happens. And there's always that element of ''hunger'', of ''need,'' strong enough that you'll swear that you're about to die. Not remotely fun.

			From what I've been told, Dove was getting hungry too, but I don't think it's the same for her. She complained about feeling empty and cold, and moaned more often. I know I saw once that her upper lip had peeled back or withered or something to show her teeth, and her skin, pale as it was, started to look mottled. She walked normally enough, though. I don't think I've ever seen Dove doing the typical zombie-shuffle. I don't think I ever want to.

			Isabelle was the only one who didn't start acting oddly. Of course she felt no hunger. She doesn't eat. I ''think'' that she sleeps, but she doesn't seem to have anything like the usual day-night cycle. She was also the only one to keep any composure - although, once, while I was complaining, she snapped, "This isn't helping!" I'd say she was around twice my height by the time the moon came up, and heavy enough that her feet sank into the loam. If she got any taller in the night, I never noticed.

			My memory of that night is pretty hazy. I moved around a lot once the sun was gone, leaving the girls. When the sun isn't up, I move much more quickly and quietly than either of them - which, admittedly, isn't saying much, but still. Mostly I went in circles; I know that I passed them again and again. It's really hard to miss that torch, glowing the way it does. Dove kept telling me to stop, but hunger doesn't let me hold still. I have to keep moving.

			I think it was midnight when I came back and stopped. That was when I could feel something inside myself, small and quick and not part of the hunger. Now, usually I wouldn't have done anything. But I wasn't at my best, so I reached out. And turned into a bat.

			Yeah. I know it sounds stupid, but there's no getting around it. I turned into a bat. It felt weird, of course. Happened fast enough that I felt like I was falling, and everything was getting farther away, and then I couldn't stand up, and ''then''- well, my bat form is just a bat. Not any specific species, I can assume some kind of vampire bat because, well, that's obvious. But just a bat, not a lot bigger than a pigeon. And since I'm just a bat in that form, and my ''mind'' is just a bat's, I don't really ''think''. So again, my memory there is hazy. Hard to puzzle out. A bat's sense of time isn't like ours. Pity, really. I'd like to know how it is to fly.

			My next real memory was of opening my eyes and finding out that I was in a jail cell. This was more than a little alarming, particularly when I realized that I wasn't wearing anything. Some of you are lucky. You can change into bats or fog or wolves or whatever, keep your mind about you, and then when you change back your clothes are still on you, not even wrinkled. Not me.

			Anyway, I was in a jail cell, bars and concrete bench and all, and Dove was on the bunk writing in a pad of paper. She saw me and got me my clothes before I could start panicking.

Joysweeper: I'm rewriting the entire second half of this story as it was originally set down...

2008-03-30T15:27:39Z

I'm rewriting the entire second half of this story as it was originally set down...

Show changes

Joysweeper at 19:29, 25 March 2008

2008-03-25T19:29:35Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 14:29, 25 March 2008
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	\|author=Joysweeper		\|author=Joysweeper
	\|user=Joysweeper}}		\|user=Joysweeper}}

			-turn the recorder on, I said. Oh, okay. Weird how I don't show up on camera, but my voice is fine.

			Everyone's here that's going to get here, right? Good. I can start. Now, I've got a major in acting. It's much more comfortable if I tell it like a story. If it's just a summary I feel like I'm leaving something out. Any objections? Here goes.

	I resettled my hooded cloak - a bargain at eight dollars the day after Halloween - across my shoulders. It kept slipping back and pulling at my throat. Not very vampiric - not that I was trying to be, but even a vegetarian vampire doesn't want to stop and adjust his cape-clasp in mid-feed, does he?		I resettled my hooded cloak - a bargain at eight dollars the day after Halloween - across my shoulders. It kept slipping back and pulling at my throat. Not very vampiric - not that I was trying to be, but even a vegetarian vampire doesn't want to stop and adjust his cape-clasp in mid-feed, does he?
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	behind curtains, screaming."		behind curtains, screaming."

	Dove chuckled evilly, as well she should have. "Still haven't forgiven me for the Great Flan Incident?"		Dove chuckled evilly, as well she should have. "Still haven't forgiven me for the Great Flan Incident?" I'm not going to describe that one. Suffice to say that it was messy and embarrassing.

	"How could I?" I asked, remembering the Transylvanian accent. "I vhas		"How could I?" I asked, remembering the Transylvanian accent. "I vhas
	''vheeks'' kleaning hthat up." The fangs, nudged by my tongue, tried to pop		''vheeks'' kleaning hthat up." The fangs, nudged by my tongue, tried to pop
	out again, and I clamped down.		out again, and I clamped down. It's funny how I always remember that. What it feels like to hold cheap plastic teeth in my mouth.

	Right on cue, Isabelle appeared in a doorway, head to toe in pale green.		Right on cue, Isabelle appeared in a doorway, head to toe in pale green.
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	"So, how'd the judging go?"		"So, how'd the judging go?"

	She smiled thinly, the skin around her eyes remaining uncrinkled. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. I don't think		She smiled thinly, the skin around her eyes remaining smooth and uncrinkled. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. I don't think
	I'll be awarded any prizes - you should have ''seen'' the other contestants.		I'll be awarded any prizes - you should have ''seen'' the other contestants.
	One did complement me on my attention to detail, but I'd just as rather stay		One did complement me on my attention to detail, but I'd just as rather stay
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	Her white hands clutched at the red velvet of her round, plunging neckline.		Her white hands clutched at the red velvet of her round, plunging neckline.
	My gaze followed the movement, and I found myself staring at the exposed		My gaze followed the movement, and I found myself staring at the exposed
	cleavage. ''Warm peanut butter, bananas sliced into it, over fresh bread.'' I turned my head and looked away as soon as I realized what I was		cleavage. ''Warm peanut butter, bananas sliced into it, spread over steaming fresh bread.'' I turned my head and looked away as soon as I realized what I was
	doing, but the damage was done; I was suddenly hungry, ''so'' hungry, and my		doing, but the damage was done; I was suddenly hungry, ''so'' hungry, and my
	teeth ached. I ran my tongue over them and winced, surprised to encounter sharp		teeth ached. I ran my tongue over them and winced, surprised to encounter sharp
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	stiletto heels. The overall noise level had kicked up a notch or three, and I heard a note of panic that hadn't been there before. I inhaled and tasted a banquet of mixed smells, many of them deliriously appetizing. ''Beef jerky, tough and stringy, teriyaki style... Peeps, just slightly crushed, left out to get stale... authentic root beer made with sarsaparilla, poured onto a great soft scoop of double-churned hand-dipped vanilla ice cream... Tomato soup with cut-up onions and some parsley... Sweet-and-sour chicken on fried rice, extra egg...'' ''No,'' I reminded myself forcefully, swallowing hard. ''Not for you. The diet, remember?''		stiletto heels. The overall noise level had kicked up a notch or three, and I heard a note of panic that hadn't been there before. I inhaled and tasted a banquet of mixed smells, many of them deliriously appetizing. ''Beef jerky, tough and stringy, teriyaki style... Peeps, just slightly crushed, left out to get stale... authentic root beer made with sarsaparilla, poured onto a great soft scoop of double-churned hand-dipped vanilla ice cream... Tomato soup with cut-up onions and some parsley... Sweet-and-sour chicken on fried rice, extra egg...'' ''No,'' I reminded myself forcefully, swallowing hard. ''Not for you. The diet, remember?''

	The scent I identified as Dove's, while not unpleasant, was bracing enough to distract me from the other smells. ''Chill and earthy, hint of earthworm, smallest trace of hot cocoa.'' Her voice was oddly raspy, and her face was, if anything, paler than		The scent I identified as Dove's, while not unpleasant, was bracing enough to distract me from the other, more foodlike smells. ''Chill and earthy, hint of earthworm, smallest trace of sweet decay and hot cocoa.'' Her voice was oddly raspy, and her face was, if anything, paler than
	before, eyes both larger and slightly redder than they should have been. She was hugging herself as if cold. "What on ''earth''? I ''know'' I didn't drink the punch..."		before, eyes both larger and slightly redder than they should have been. She was hugging herself as if cold. "What on ''earth''? I ''know'' I didn't drink the punch..."

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	"Agreed," Isabelle murmured. "No argument here!" Dove added hastily.		"Agreed," Isabelle murmured. "No argument here!" Dove added hastily.

	We fled the scene. Luckily for me, we took an exit that wasn't completely packed. As it was, I was once almost overwhelmed when we got swept up in a crowd. There is nothing quite so cruel as staying on a diet when there are such mouthwatering people around! ''Baked wild salmon, grilled in butter and its own soft white fat, still hot enough that the juices, spilling out around it, bubble and crackle.'' That one was the worst. I was hungry, and ~~they were~~ so close. I'm just glad Dove was there. We distracted each other by breaking into furious arguments about the stupidest things, I don't even remember what. Isabelle stayed mostly silent.		We fled the scene. Luckily for me, we took an exit that wasn't completely packed. As it was, I was once almost overwhelmed when we got swept up in a crowd. There is nothing quite so cruel as staying on a diet when there are such mouthwatering people around! ''Baked wild salmon, grilled in butter and its own soft white fat, still hot enough that the juices, spilling out around it, bubble and crackle.'' That one was the worst, the spiky-haired man in the suit who almost knocked me over. I was hungry, and he was so ''close''. I'm just glad Dove was there. We distracted each other by breaking into furious arguments about the stupidest things, I don't even remember what. Isabelle stayed mostly silent.

			There was a bigger problem when we got out. It's called ''the sun''. Yeah.

			Unlike some, I didn't burst into flames or start smoking at the edges. Nor did I turn to ashes, stone, a pillar of salt... I'm lucky in that, I guess. I don't think anyone who hasn't felt it themselves could understand, but I'll make an effort for you two or three who don't know why the rest of us are wincing.

			Ever been out for several hours on a very bright, hot day, and gotten sunburned to within an inch of your life? To the point where every inch of exposed skin is red and blistered and shedding, hurts like a bitch, and it's like the sun's radiation is this hot, painful pressure? And then someone with long nails gives you a good hard slap across the face? Pretty much like that. Only worse.

			It's hard to move, in full sun. I freeze up and want to curl into the fetal position. Yeah, that's kind of a bad instinct; it'd make more sense if I instinctively tried to get back into the shade instead, but what can you do? My arms and legs locked up, I could barely see for the brightness, and I think this was a good candidate for the scariest moment in my life.

			Dove saved me there. Got me to her station wagon. Turns out she still had her keys. We're lucky that everything was as bad as it was; nobody bothered us as far as I can recall. In my next coherent moment, we were a mile away on the highway. Later, it turns out that was the same highway everyone saw on Channel Six, but this was before any of ''that'' happened, so I can't tell any stories about almost getting stepped on.

			I was curled up in the legwell of the seat next to the driver's with a quilt over my head to try and block some of the light. It still hurt, but it wasn't driving me crazy. I asked where we were going.

			"Back to Midtral," Dove told me. You know it's interesting. She's always been the crazy one to Isa's steadiness, but Isabelle's the one who drives like a kamikaze pilot. Drove, anyway. Dove's always been a nice driver. I ''know'' we were breaking the speed limit, but the ride was pretty smooth overall.

			"You do realize that they're not going to like this," I told her. "I don't know what this is, but they're not going to like this at all." The sun, even filtered like it was, was giving me a migraine, but I felt like I was thinking clearly. I was making plans for living on the run, thinking that the government was going to be chasing us to be dissected or something. I know, I know, it sounds stupid now. But it didn't really register at the time that this was bigger than us.

			"I know, I know, I ''know!''" Dove took what I said as criticism. "D'you have a better idea?"

			''I'' didn't. Isabelle did.

			"If we can make it back to Midtral, we can claim what belongings we can take with us," she said as calmly as if we were trying to identify a weed growing in the cracks of a sidewalk. "Cody can clean out his bank account. I believe he has saved more than Dove or I." At the time, her voice hadn't changed completely. She sounded like she was talking through a pipe.

			Neither of us had a response to that. So that was the plan, really. I haven't gone over it, but I think all three of us thought that we were fugitives. It's a pretty awful plan, I know, but it made sense at the time. It's just as well we never got the chance to carry it out.

	~~There was a bigger problem when we got out.~~

	~~From that point on, nothing particularly unusual happened. We fled the~~
	scene, just like lot of others, and managed not to get attacked or arrested or anything. Everyone already knows how insane Xanadu was right about then - to tell the truth, at the time I barely noticed. I'm not really that observant.

	Isabelle's keys had vanished, but Dove's hadn't, so we loaded into her		Isabelle's keys had vanished, but Dove's hadn't, so we loaded into her

Joysweeper: Bored. Decided to fiddle with this. Will probably add more, later.

2008-03-24T21:36:51Z

Bored. Decided to fiddle with this. Will probably add more, later.

Show changes

JonBuck: Categories, sort key, formatting tweaks.

2008-03-13T18:49:54Z

Categories, sort key, formatting tweaks.

← Older revision		Revision as of 13:49, 13 March 2008
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			{{Universe\|Xanadu}}
	{{title		{{title
	\|name=~~A More Peaceful Endeavor~~(aka Milk and Chocolate)		\|name=(aka Milk and Chocolate)
	\|author=Joysweeper		\|author=Joysweeper
	\|user=Joysweeper}}		\|user=Joysweeper}}
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	cholesterol levels the way blood does." She smirked again and I continued		cholesterol levels the way blood does." She smirked again and I continued
	more seriously. "Besides, you needed all the white makeup we could scrounge		more seriously. "Besides, you needed all the white makeup we could scrounge
	for ~~_your_~~ outfit. Speaking of which, you're a bit articulate for a		for ''your'' outfit. Speaking of which, you're a bit articulate for a
	zombie."		zombie."

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	"It must be the		"It must be the
	diet," she said, making a show of examining her black-painted fingernails. "Chocolate has phenethylamine, just like brains, and without all that		diet," she said, making a show of examining her black-painted fingernails. "Chocolate has phenethylamine, just like brains, and without all that work to open up a skull. Plus, I don't have to rot. Ew. Big mess."
	work to open up a skull. Plus, I don't have to rot. Ew. Big mess."

	A hairless hunched-over man with enough white makeup pancaked over the latex mask on his face to		A hairless hunched-over man with enough white makeup pancaked over the latex mask on his face to
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	have misheard.		have misheard.

	Dove, taking her improv classes to heart, cupped her hands around her mouth and called out mockingly, loud enough		Dove, taking her improv classes to heart, cupped her hands around her mouth and called out mockingly, loud enough that people turned to stare. "But we ''are'' serious! You don't have to kill
	that people turned to stare. "But we ''are'' serious! You don't have to kill
	people to be happy!" Someone in the crowd around us cried a return sally of		people to be happy!" Someone in the crowd around us cried a return sally of
	"But it's ''fun!''" and the crowd chuckled, then turned back to its own, individual business.		"But it's ''fun!''" and the crowd chuckled, then turned back to its own, individual business.
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	Isabelle was the first to get a word in. "Hello, Cody. Are you wearing my black		Isabelle was the first to get a word in. "Hello, Cody. Are you wearing my black
	slacks? If you wanted to crossdress, I would have just given them to you." Her sister immediately started arguing, telling her that they		slacks? If you wanted to crossdress, I would have just given them to you." Her sister immediately started arguing, telling her that they weren't Isabelle's, they were Dove's, and I wasn't crossdressing. I didn't bother to hide my skepticism; did Isabelle really think that she'd win a prize as the Statue of Liberty?
	weren't Isabelle's, they were Dove's, and I wasn't crossdressing. I didn't bother to hide my skepticism; did Isabelle really
	think that she'd win a prize as the Statue of Liberty?

	But as the argument wore onwards, I changed my mind. The layered green		But as the argument wore onwards, I changed my mind. The layered green
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	textured too. At some point she'd also subtly changed the shape of her		textured too. At some point she'd also subtly changed the shape of her
	face, with cheek-pads or something, so it looked surprisingly Roman. She'd		face, with cheek-pads or something, so it looked surprisingly Roman. She'd
	even managed to get the makeup on her skin, which even covered her eyelids and lips, textured too. It didn't really		even managed to get the makeup on her skin, which even covered her eyelids and lips, textured too. It didn't really look like makeup; also, as I saw when she gestured, she'd somehow gotten
	look like makeup; also, as I saw when she gestured, she'd somehow gotten
	tiny seams and rivet-imprints in all the right places. It was a surprisingly subtle		tiny seams and rivet-imprints in all the right places. It was a surprisingly subtle
	effect.		effect.
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	vampires, but we're hopeful that some of them at least can stop craving		vampires, but we're hopeful that some of them at least can stop craving
	death and be turned to a more peaceful endeavor.		death and be turned to a more peaceful endeavor.
	{{~~Universe\|Xanadu~~}}
			[[Category:Joysweeper]] [[Category:Xanadu]] [[Category:Story]] [[Category:Mythical]] {{DEFAULTSORT:More Peaceful Endeavor, A}}

Joysweeper: New page: {{title |name=A More Peaceful Endeavor(aka Milk and Chocolate) |author=Joysweeper |user=Joysweeper}} I resettled my hooded cloak - a bargain at eight dollars the day after Halloween - acr...

2008-03-13T14:23:50Z

New page: {{title |name=A More Peaceful Endeavor(aka Milk and Chocolate) |author=Joysweeper |user=Joysweeper}} I resettled my hooded cloak - a bargain at eight dollars the day after Halloween - acr...

New page

{{title
|name=A More Peaceful Endeavor(aka Milk and Chocolate)
|author=Joysweeper
|user=Joysweeper}}

I resettled my hooded cloak - a bargain at eight dollars the day after Halloween - across my shoulders. It kept slipping back and pulling at my throat. Not very vampiric - not that I was trying to be, but even a vegetarian vampire doesn't want to stop and adjust his cape-clasp in mid-feed, does he?

"Co-dy," Dove half-sang. "Put your teeth back in. You look silly."

I did so, popping the hinged glow-in-the-dark fangs in over my braces and
biting down as best I could. I bared them at her and summoned up my cheesiest Transylvanian accent. "Don't call me Cody.
I'm ''Durinnial'', the ''vampire.''"

In response Dove smirked, whitened cheeks pulling up. "All right,
'Durinnial'. Aren't you a little rosy for a vampire?"

"It's this new milk-and-supplements diet," I told her around the fangs,
deadpan. "Does wonders for the complexion, and doesn't shoot up the
cholesterol levels the way blood does." She smirked again and I continued
more seriously. "Besides, you needed all the white makeup we could scrounge
for _your_ outfit. Speaking of which, you're a bit articulate for a
zombie."

Following my lead, she smoothed her face into seriousness. "I'm not ''just'' a zombie. I'm an Undead Gothic Lolita."

"What's the difference?"

"It must be the
diet," she said, making a show of examining her black-painted fingernails. "Chocolate has phenethylamine, just like brains, and without all that
work to open up a skull. Plus, I don't have to rot. Ew. Big mess."

A hairless hunched-over man with enough white makeup pancaked over the latex mask on his face to
satisfy two Doves, and with enough darker makeup to turn the spaces under his
eyes into black silk purses, apparently heard us and scowled, baring
yellowed crooked false teeth that probably had a price somewhere in the
triple-digit range. He turned away, muttering something to himself. It
sounded like "Damn kids never taking these things seriously..." but we could
have misheard.

Dove, taking her improv classes to heart, cupped her hands around her mouth and called out mockingly, loud enough
that people turned to stare. "But we ''are'' serious! You don't have to kill
people to be happy!" Someone in the crowd around us cried a return sally of
"But it's ''fun!''" and the crowd chuckled, then turned back to its own, individual business.

"So where's your sister, anyway?" I asked my friend. The glow-in-the-dark
fangs almost slipped out of my mouth. I shoved them back in, firmly. "She
said she'd meet us here, and now."

"I don't really know. She's entering her costume into one of the contests.
Wants to get the cash prize." Dove sighed. "Art students, always starved
for money... or pretending to be."

I raised my eyebrows. "She is? But at the big party on campus she was just
a witch, with a store-bought costume."

My friend shrugged, rustling her uber-Gothic dress. "Isabelle told me that
she wore ''that'' because she didn't want 'it' to break or get spilled on.
Which makes sense, considering Midtral. She told me that her face is in the open, so we'll know her, but she wants the costume to be a surprise."

In response, I winced. "Dove, you know I like your sister. How could I
not? But she's too reserved. I don't have the faintest idea what ''her''
notion of a 'surprise' is. Unlike ''your'' notion, which is leaping out from
behind curtains, screaming."

Dove chuckled evilly. "Still haven't forgiven me for the Great Flan Incident?"

"How could I?" I asked, remembering the Transylvanian accent. "I vhas
''vheeks'' kleaning hthat up." The fangs, nudged by my tongue, tried to pop
out again, and I clamped down.

Right on cue, Isabelle appeared at one of the entrances, head to toe in green.
My eyebrows raised again as we came towards her, maneuvering around the
various conventioneers. I saw a number of people from Midtral among them;
no surprise there.

Isabelle was the first to get a word in. "Hello, Cody. Are you wearing my black
slacks? If you wanted to crossdress, I would have just given them to you." Her sister immediately started arguing, telling her that they
weren't Isabelle's, they were Dove's, and I wasn't crossdressing. I didn't bother to hide my skepticism; did Isabelle really
think that she'd win a prize as the Statue of Liberty?

But as the argument wore onwards, I changed my mind. The layered green
robe-thing that she wore had obviously taken a long time to make, and it had
been carefully textured. The spiked diadem fixed to her dyed, pinned hair
didn't so much as quiver when she moved her head. Both the torch and the
tablet had been transferred to the crook of her right elbow, but they looked
textured too. At some point she'd also subtly changed the shape of her
face, with cheek-pads or something, so it looked surprisingly Roman. She'd
even managed to get the makeup on her skin, which even covered her eyelids and lips, textured too. It didn't really
look like makeup; also, as I saw when she gestured, she'd somehow gotten
tiny seams and rivet-imprints in all the right places. It was a surprisingly subtle
effect.

A laughing furry backed into Dove, almost knocking her over. I sighed and
spoke up, getting the attention of both sisters. "Maybe we should move this to someplace
a little quieter?" They quit heckling long enough to follow me out into a
hallway. "Sisters," I muttered to myself, flamboyantly folding the edges of
my cloak around myself so that it didn't billow too much. "Making me glad
that I'm an only child."

"Wait up, 'Durinnial'," Dove announced a few minutes later, tugging at my
cloak. I turned to regard Isabelle, who was walking in a slow and stately
manner. "Isa, can't you go any faster?!"

"I'm 'Liberty Enlightening The World'," she informed us with great dignity.
"Of course I can't. It isn't seemly. I am not an undead Gothic punk."

While Dove sighed in vexed frustration, I hung back to talk to Isabelle.
"So how did the judging go?"

She smiled thinly. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. I don't think
I'll be awarded any prizes - you should have seen the other contestants.
One did complement me on my attention to detail, but I'd just as rather stay
away from the awards ceremony altogether. I left before it could start. The
other contestants just make me feel so... inadequate."

"Then we will avoid the awards ceremony, my dear," I told her, smoothly,
looking the short distance down into her eyes. "I'm sure someone's taping
it and will make a montage. You do look good. How long did it take to set
that costume up?" For once, my glow-in-the-dark fangs didn't try to pop
out.

"Oh... I've been planning it for more than a year," she said, voice faint enough that I had to lean
towards her. It sounded vaguely... hollow. I frowned, uncomfortable. My
stomach felt vaguely unsettled. "Isa, is something wrong?"

Her pale green eyebrows had just drawn together in a frown when the world
seemed to lurch; a migraine built and faded between my ears. My vision
grayed out and returned in a split second as a woman that I didn't know
shrieked.

The woman shrieked again, a high-pitched horror-movie type scream. I turned
and stared at her. My eyes went, first, to her throat. She had a healthy
neck, with good color. I admired it briefly.

Her white hands clutched at the red velvet of her round, plunging neckline.
My gaze followed the movement, and I found myself staring at the exposed
cleavage. I turned my head and looked away as soon as I realized what I was
doing, but the damage was done; I was suddenly hungry, ''so'' hungry, and my
teeth ached. I ran my tongue over them, dully surprised to encounter sharp
points.

From the sound of things, the shrieking woman ran off then, staggering on
stiletto heels.

Dove's voice was oddly raspy, and her face was, if anything, paler than
before. She was hugging herself as if cold. "What on ''earth''? I ''know'' I didn't drink the punch..."

"Neither did I," a soft hollow, brassy voice murmured. I glanced at
Isabelle. She didn't ''look'' all that different, even maintaining the same
serene expression. It was something subtle. It was-

I blinked. "Are you wearing sandals?" ''My'' voice, too, had changed,
smoothing out with a touch of accent that hadn't been there before.

In response Isabelle raised her bare foot in a stately manner, the folds of
her outfit rippling slowly. It was green. Hesitantly, I reached over and touched
her shoulder briefly. It was cold, and although the cloth gave and rippled
under my fingers, it felt like metal. I looked into her serene pupil-less
eyes, both the white and the iris the same green as her skin. They were
level with mine. And then, somehow, they became just a little bit higher.

Thoroughly unsettled, I withdrew. "Let's... let's get out of here."

"Agreed," Isabelle murmured. "No argument here!" Dove added hastily.

From that point on, nothing particularly unusual happened. We fled the
scene, just like lot of others, and managed not to get attacked or arrested or anything. Everyone already knows how insane Xanadu was right about then - to tell the truth, at the time I barely noticed. I'm not really that observant.

Isabelle's keys had vanished, but Dove's hadn't, so we loaded into her
minivan and drove until Isabelle became too heavy and she had to walk. The
campus, we knew, wouldn't be happy to see us, so we kind of hid in the woods. We really didn't know what else to do. Nobody was thinking straight.

The next day the police found us. I think they were attracted by the torch. I also think they expected us to get violent, but we went with them.

I requested and then gulped about a gallon of milk without trouble - it was
disgustingly cold - , and they gave Dove some Hershey's bars, but they kind
of locked us up. We made them nervous. I didn't really understand why. Yeah, Dove didn't have a pulse and was cold to the touch, but she talked in full sentences and moaned only occasionally. I didn't know why they were afraid of me at all. I can do cool things with my cloak, but I can't even turn into a bat unless it's midnight. And then I'm a bat until ''next'' midnight. Not that useful.

Of course, logically I do know why they didn't like us. We identify ourselves as what we are. And what we are scares people. I know ''I'' should be worried too, but I'm not. She's a zombie. I'm a vampire. So what?

By the time the police locked us up Isabelle had grown to the point
that she could only fit through the door by crawling... ''that'' made them
''really'' nervy. I can't blame them; Isa makes ''me'' nervous, and I know her. She doesn't eat or drink, you know, and I'm not sure if she sleeps. Nobody knows when she's going to stop growing. They put her outside and pretty much held us as hostages.
She behaved. There wasn't much trouble from the inmates.

Few days later, some people in suits came by and we were released after
swearing to a girl who was holding griffin feathers that we had no
intentions of causing trouble/taking lives/taking over the world, that kind
of thing. Midtral kicked us out, us and everyone else who went to Xanadu.
We got our stuff back, and some of the tuition money was refunded; some of
the others weren't so lucky. More people in suits came by and talked to us
- to me and Dove, really, but you don't argue when the quarter-sized Statue
of Liberty insists. You just don't.

Apparently Dove and I, while being a zombie and a vampire, respectively, are different. We're not the only ones who've kept our wits. Not by a long shot.
But we were the first to find substitutes for our "natural" foods - brains
and blood, respectively. It doesn't seem to work with all zombies or
vampires, but we're hopeful that some of them at least can stop craving
death and be turned to a more peaceful endeavor.
{{Universe|Xanadu}}