Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2001-10-23 04:07 pm
azurelunatic) wrote2001-10-23 04:07 pm
War's over; the fighting continues
I showed up for breakfast at twenty after six or thereabouts. Darkside and I chatted off and on; he was studying. He introduced the concept of the Word of God weapon: a completed, unabridged copy of all the Holy Books in the world, placed in the air directly over the head of someone, preferably a religious extremist of the sort that censors and willfully misinterprets the Word of their Deity.
I sat there and reprogrammed myself from behind my hair. I tried to smooth out the way I felt for Darkside, to a quieter, less violent, love; friends, not lovers. I tried to transfer the passion to Adam --- who was suddenly there sitting down next to me.
Adam was grabbed by the hand. Darkside made a few sarcastic comments at our expense; I made a few at Adam's expense. Adam turned bright red several times. The men ganged their wits together at me as well.
I hid behind my hair some more and reprogrammed with up to 98% effectiveness. I am starting to sense Adam's presence; I'm continuing to sense Darkside's presence, but the distancing of us makes it easier for me to find him, more noticeable when something unusual happens in our link.
Just as it was all going well -- Darkside was opening up tremendously to Adam -- than the woman from Darkside's class who's getting help with a spell from me, the one who has attitude problems -- came up and sat down. We all chatted for a little bit. She saw me hanging on to Adam's hand and commented a bit on that. She mentioned that I hadn't given her the rest of the instructions for the spell yet; I will -- I'll e-mail them to her. She isn't aware, quite, that Darkside is very aware that I'm a witch and that I'm helping her. Darkside tossed out a few words that she didn't know how to take.
Adam departed to open his lab at the same time, approximately, that Darkside and I split for our respective finals. We left her there by herself.
After I was through with my final, I came back to sit in the cafeteria. Darkside was there; I waited for the bookstore to open to return some books sitting there with him.
One of Adam's friends, with the short hair, came up with pizza and sat down. Darkside got pizza, even though DeVry pizza usually makes him sick; this was the long type of pizza not the round kind. They started seeing if they could gross me out. I declined to be grossed out and got pizza of my own despite Darkside's tales of vomiting thanks to DeVry pizza.
Darkside and I are pushing the limits of our violence in friendship. There's so much further it could go, but this is an edge deeper than the safe places we've been. Today he attacked the pressure point that Vulcans always pinch with great force. Adam's friend said I got a "what the hell is he doing?" expression on my face. I was trying not to scream; he had me that far away from doing that. Pain, not pleasure.
I got a scuff-mark on my neck from his rough grab at me, a red vertical line, and some red finger-marks. I wear them with pride. I have a damn good friend. We arm-wrestled, and he won. He's still stronger in the absolute than I am, but I'm working out and he's not. If he got back into the shape he used to be in, and I got back into the shape I used to be in, we'd still be about where we are now.
I can tell him with great joy to go fuck himself if he declares himself to me at any point. I love him; I adore him; I'm friends-with-privileges with Adam now. Nothing more than that; still, I'm not quite a free agent anymore.
I sat there and reprogrammed myself from behind my hair. I tried to smooth out the way I felt for Darkside, to a quieter, less violent, love; friends, not lovers. I tried to transfer the passion to Adam --- who was suddenly there sitting down next to me.
Adam was grabbed by the hand. Darkside made a few sarcastic comments at our expense; I made a few at Adam's expense. Adam turned bright red several times. The men ganged their wits together at me as well.
I hid behind my hair some more and reprogrammed with up to 98% effectiveness. I am starting to sense Adam's presence; I'm continuing to sense Darkside's presence, but the distancing of us makes it easier for me to find him, more noticeable when something unusual happens in our link.
Just as it was all going well -- Darkside was opening up tremendously to Adam -- than the woman from Darkside's class who's getting help with a spell from me, the one who has attitude problems -- came up and sat down. We all chatted for a little bit. She saw me hanging on to Adam's hand and commented a bit on that. She mentioned that I hadn't given her the rest of the instructions for the spell yet; I will -- I'll e-mail them to her. She isn't aware, quite, that Darkside is very aware that I'm a witch and that I'm helping her. Darkside tossed out a few words that she didn't know how to take.
Adam departed to open his lab at the same time, approximately, that Darkside and I split for our respective finals. We left her there by herself.
After I was through with my final, I came back to sit in the cafeteria. Darkside was there; I waited for the bookstore to open to return some books sitting there with him.
One of Adam's friends, with the short hair, came up with pizza and sat down. Darkside got pizza, even though DeVry pizza usually makes him sick; this was the long type of pizza not the round kind. They started seeing if they could gross me out. I declined to be grossed out and got pizza of my own despite Darkside's tales of vomiting thanks to DeVry pizza.
Darkside and I are pushing the limits of our violence in friendship. There's so much further it could go, but this is an edge deeper than the safe places we've been. Today he attacked the pressure point that Vulcans always pinch with great force. Adam's friend said I got a "what the hell is he doing?" expression on my face. I was trying not to scream; he had me that far away from doing that. Pain, not pleasure.
I got a scuff-mark on my neck from his rough grab at me, a red vertical line, and some red finger-marks. I wear them with pride. I have a damn good friend. We arm-wrestled, and he won. He's still stronger in the absolute than I am, but I'm working out and he's not. If he got back into the shape he used to be in, and I got back into the shape I used to be in, we'd still be about where we are now.
I can tell him with great joy to go fuck himself if he declares himself to me at any point. I love him; I adore him; I'm friends-with-privileges with Adam now. Nothing more than that; still, I'm not quite a free agent anymore.