Happy Thanksgiving

Here is the Thanksgiving special as promised! :0  Please, enjoy.

                “Francis,” Sem said as he leaned against the breakfast bar of a very nice-looking kitchen.  Sem was dressed in a black suit with a teal dress shirt underneath, nicely contrasting against his bronzed skin.  The young-looking man’s mouth was drawn in a bit of a frown as he watched a certain skeletal chef race around the kitchen.  “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

                The skeleton shook his head, not even looking in Sem’s direction as he bent down to get some dishes from out of a cupboard.  The skeleton was clad in only an apron and his bony feet clacked against the polished oak floors.  Of course he declined to receive help.  He always did.  Thanksgiving was Captain Francis Bellefluer’s holiday.  Well, aside from Halloween.  But Thanksgiving was a close second on the captain’s list of favorite holidays.  He always insisted on hosting Thanksgiving at his New York city flat.  There was one year where Sem tried hosting it and it ended with Francis in a catatonic state caused by severe depression.

                Sem knew better than to ask. He had learned many, many, many years ago that Francis would decline any help.  One year all Sem did was bring a dish of candied yams and, well, it left Francis in a catatonic state caused by severe depression.  Sighing, Sem absentmindedly fiddled with the snow-white streak in the fringe of his otherwise dark hair.  He watched as Francis pulled a very perfect-looking turkey out of the oven, setting it next to the rest of the food.  It was a small turkey, and there wasn’t nearly as much food as one would expect to see at Thanksgiving.  Only four people were coming together at this dinner, and one of them couldn’t even eat.

                Francis finally gave Sem and nodded once, a sign that dinner was ready to be served.  Sem wandered off to find wherever Sorena had wandered off to in the medium-sized flat.  He could sense her upstairs and so that’s where he went.  The ancient woman was in the small library Francis had.  It was filled with all sorts of books, some new, but most were very, very, old.  In fact, Sorena was holding one very old book that Sem was half-sure was said to be lost to history.

                “Who could understand any of this rubbish?” Sorena asked, snapping the priceless tome shut and casually tossing it to the side.  “Whoever wrote that was mad.”

                Sem said nothing, only smiling softly at Sorena as she turned around.  She had really stepped out this year.  Sem had been able to convince her to do away with her typical witch outfit of horrors for just that night in favor of a blue, stretch-velvet dress.  Her silvery hair was still a bit wild, but Sorena was looking better than she had in years. 

                “Dinner’s ready,” he told her.

                “I’ll be right down,” Sorena muttered as she trailed her finger along a shelf of books, mouthing their titles.

                “You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Sem said lightly as he walked out of the room and descended the stairs.  He glanced at his silver watch just as it turned six o’ clock.  Within seconds a clock chimed somewhere in the house.  Everything was all set at the table as well.  Francis was always ready at exactly six.

                Just as Sem was wondering where the fourth person to their little get-together was the doorbell rang.  Volunteering to get it, Sem walked to the door and opened it.  Standing outside was a young woman with raven black hair, porcelain skin, and midnight-blue eyes.  She was tall, especially in the heels she wore, and there was a certain feel to her as you caught site of her cocky grin.  The young woman was dressed in a red cocktail dress and red shoes.  A diamond necklace with matching earrings and bracelet accompanied the simple yet polished look.

                “Lysis,” Sem greeted her, opening his arms.  “Nice dress.”

                “Hey, babe,” Lysis said, accepting the embrace before stepping inside of the home.  “How’s my little emo?” she asked him.  It was then that Sem noticed the bottle that was cradled in the crook of Lysis’ right arm.

                “What is that?”

                “Pinot noir,” Lysis answered simply.  “1999.”

                “Francis already picked out all the wine for the dinner,” Sem murmured to the young woman.  He didn’t want their skeletal friend to overhear.

                “Please, one of the very last things Francis has is a sense of taste,” Lysis said airily as she looked around at the décor of the home, making it fairly obvious that she wasn’t just talking about taste buds.

                “He’s a master chef, so I would trust his opinion,” Sem pointed out.

                Lysis lowered her voice, but she seemed a bit amused.  “What is the big deal?  It’s just some wine.”

                This was the first Thanksgiving dinner Lysis had been invited to - for centuries it had mostly just been Sem, Sorena, and Francis.  Sometimes Alphard would join them but very rarely did he do so.  Since this was Lysis’ first dinner with them she really didn’t understand the implications of what she had done.

                “You don’t understand,” Sem said.  “He’ll get very offended if he sees it - if he even catches a whiff of that-“

                “He has no nose, dear,” Lysis butt-in, pointing out that Francis did indeed lack a nose.

                “He doesn’t have eyes either but he can still manage to see just fine,” Sem whispered as they got nearer to the kitchen.

                “Fine!” Lysis whispered as she quickly shoved the bottle into an antique vase, muttering to herself.  “Freakish undead monstrosi- Francis, darling!” she exclaimed as he suddenly came around the corner.  She embraced him as un-awkwardly as one could embrace a skeleton.  He had very quickly changed into a suit himself for the dinner.  “Thanks for the invite,” she winked.  “Finally you all can start having some fun.  God knows what you’ve been doing with yourselves before I came along.”

                “Oh, so you did manage to make it?” Sorena said as she entered the kitchen behind them.  “I was hoping for a canceled flight or a car bomb to stop you.”

                Lysis ignored what the old woman had said for a moment, taking in her sudden new appearance.  “You finally realized that not every day is Halloween, I see,” Lysis commented.  “I hate to say it but you do look very nice in that.”

                Sorena blinked several times, expecting the need to shoot back at Lysis with some sort of retort like she usually had to, but not this time.  This time Lysis had actually said something nice to her.  “What you’re wearing suits you as well I suppose,” Sorena managed to say.  She wasn’t quite ready to be nice just yet.  That and she actually really didn’t know what did or didn’t look good on people, so she just trusted that Lysis’ vanity dressed her in a way that was phenomenal.

                Francis quickly herded everyone to the table and sat them down.  Sem and Lysis sat across from Sorena and Francis respectively.

                “Rosé?” Lysis questioned at one of the bottles that was before her on the table, glancing a bit longingly at the vase that contained the wine she had brought.  Instead of the Rosé though, Francis began pouring a different wine into everyones’ glasses.  Lysis quickly noticed that the wine being poured was also Pinot noir.  Sorena’s had very little wine in it – an amount that was deemed a safe amount to give to a very powerful sorceress who didn’t always seemed to have her head on straight.

 Before digging in to eat Francis explained to Lysis via sign language everyone would go around and say what they were thankful for.

                “Well, I pretty much say the same thing every year,” Sem started.  “But I’m thankful for all of you.  As you get older you realize that good friends and relationships are the true treasures one accumulates in life.”

                Sorena was up next.  “I am thankful for, well… most of you,” she said as she glared at Lysis.  That was all she had to say.

                Francis, again using sign language, explained that he was also thankful for the people in his life, counting them among his many blessings.  He went on to talk about the smiling faces he saw at the shelters the earlier that day as he helped pass out Thanksgiving meals to the homeless and those in need.  He was disguised, of course, but it still warmed his heart that so many people’s days were made by single acts of kindness.  He went on and on about other things and finally after five minutes he was finished.  Everyone had pretty much said they were thankful for people in their lives, very touching things to say.

                “I am thankful for this wine,” Lysis commented, pointing to her glass.  “And so that I don’t seem entirely detached and cold-blooded - I am thankful for all of you as well, believe it or not.  You’re like the freakish family who never wanted me but whom I forced myself into anyway.”

                At that everyone said “Cheers!” and clinked their glasses together.

                As everyone began serving themselves Lysis quickly excused herself, fetching her bottle of wine since Francis was serving the same thing.  “You all might want to try this,” she said as she sat back down at the table, uncorking the bottle.  “It’s got a few more years on what Francis is serving.  It’ll taste lovely.”  She was a bit pre-occupied pouring herself some of her wine to notice Sem’s expression.  The young-looking man’s eyes shifted between Lysis and Francis.  Even Sorena had taken notice to something very wrong having just happened.

                “I’d pour you some, dear, but you’re not really capable of drinking,” Lysis said to the unmoving skeleton.  “Francis?” she said his name again, but he wasn’t responding.  His empty gaze was aimed just straight ahead, his hands resting lightly on the table.

                “You’ve done it now,” Sorena said, unable to help a smile from forming on her lips.  “You’ve officially ruined your first Thanksgiving with us.  We haven’t even started eating yet!”

                “Shut up, hag,” Lysis said casually as she prodded the undead captain.  Nothing.  No response.  “Come on, Francis.  If you want I’ll put this away and we can have some of that watered down Rosé of yours. “

                At this Francis’ head crashed forward onto his empty plate, breaking it.

                Silence.

                “Well, now what?” Lysis asked, the hint of a smile on her face still. 

                “We’ll have to carry him up to his bed, surround him in some of his favorite things, and tell him how much he means to us every couple minutes.  He’ll come back around in a little while… hopefully,” Sem explained.  He got up and scooped the catatonic pile of bones into his arms and went down the hall towards the stairs.  Lysis and Sorena followed behind him.

                “I very much hope this means that you won’t be invited next year,” Sorena said out loud.

                “Almost like how I very much hope for the day when you finally drop dead.  How old are you again?  Eight hundred and fifty?  Could be any day now,” Lysis chimed.

                Happy Thanksgiving indeed.

 ©2011 James Curry a.k.a Sem

Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers, even those who don't celebrate the holiday.  Since my family is out of town this week I've spent Thanksgiving by myself, so I had time to write this.  Thankfully I celebrated Thanksgiving on Monday with about fifteen or so friends of mine - who knew I'd grow to be so popular?  It was a lot of fun.  I spent half the time cleaning up but I was having fun just watching everyone else have fun - plus it was sort of my fault since I declined any help.

I was also with my old people today so that was nice.  Yes, "my" old people.  They are my possessions.  They don't mind.  I may not like my job much but it makes me feel good when they compliment me, and I feel good being able to do things for them.  Just the little things, the little things that matter just as much as the big things but don't have as much priority.  They notice it just the same, so it's good to keep that in mind - there's always someone who notices.

Anyway, like everyone in the story, I'm simply thankful for the people in my life.  I feel blessed to have them and I honestly couldn't have imagined it two years ago.  As much as I make myself out to be entirely obsessed with the material things, and I do like them to a degree, I'm just happy to have new friends along with my old friends, my family, and good times, and maybe I'm even happy to have my dog.  Just for today at least.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Poker Face

It's been almost a month since my last update, which is so fail.  Where's the Halloween special I promised?  Well,  it's sitting on my hard drive half-finished.  Maybe I'll just let it brew until next year and start on the Thanksgiving special instead.  We'll see.

Anyway, quite a lot has been happening lately, what with me being sick with some sort of flu for almost three weeks to the recent crisis we had this week, on top of my general personal issues.

I'd like to tell you that I just jump out of bed every morning as me, ready to take on the day, but I'm not like that at all.  I can't just wake up and seem as confident as I do to anyone who sees me when I'm out and about.  It takes a bit of preparation for me to sort of step into myself like one would step into a pair of shoes.  That isn't to say that what you see of me isn't real, it very much is, mostly.

Never in my life have I jumped out of bed, or even happily gotten out of bed.  Every morning starts with an "Oh, God," and a bemoaning sigh.  I have trouble getting to sleep, and some people may vehemently attest to the idea that I don't actually sleep ever.  But I do, usually it comes slowly, but once I'm there I'm the type of person that just doesn't want to get up.  Of course, I do get up.  I have to.  Whether it be for work at obscene-o'-clock in the morning or just for getting up to start one of my days off.

Get up.  That's step one.  Always a good step - you can't get much farther without doing that first.  Note that I didn't say "wake up," I said "get up." - I may still be asleep well into my day. 

Now, my stepping into myself is much less an internal process than it is an external one.  It's very hard for me to feel like "me" if I don't look the way I feel I should look - it's a little plastic of me, but hey.

The next thing I do is brood on over to the shower.  The shower is where most of my mental preparation for the day takes place.  I usually let the water run over me while I mull over the coming day.  I apparently mull over it a lot since on average my showers are 20-30 minutes long depending on how much time is available to me, which is terrible considering our current water crisis here in Texas.

Once I'm out I put in the single contact lens I have for my left eye, and usually grumble at the eye for not being identical to the prosthesis I wear over my right eye  (Don't ask me why I don't do it the other way around.)  I've been wearing contacts for about ten years now and I greatly prefer them over glasses.  I don't like looking at pictures of myself in general, but I especially don't like looking at pictures of younger me, back when I wore glasses.  I just do not like the look of glasses on myself.  Other people wear them just fine, but I'm not convinced that my face is a face that can wear them well, especially when my sight is so awful that my glasses need to be as thick as bulletproof glass.

Anyway.  Then I take care of my face, wondering exactly when I will finally be blemish-free.  Next is the oral hygiene, and then I actually go back to my room to get dressed.  I will admit that I spend more time sorting out an outfit than most guys.  The fact that I even used the word 'outfit' is a bit of a clue on how much I care about it.  If I'm working then it's simple and I just slip into my uniform, which I hate, but oh well, and I don't bother with my hair much since I wear a hairnet all day.  Usually that's that and I'm on my not-so-merry way. 

If I'm not working well then I go to town, and to be honest I probably already have an idea of what I'm going to put on ahead of time - yay 20-30 minute showers.  The weather's cold now too, so I can whore myself to all my jackets and scarves again.  I have a lot of jackets and coats, because I love them.  It's not that much of an overestimation when I say that for every two shirts I have one jacket/coat.

After I'm dressed I tend to my hair and then finally actually look at myself in the mirror.  I usually don't look at myself in the mirror until this point.  I look myself over and either give a mental nod of approval or I fix whatever little thing is bothering me.  One I've approved myself I feel about as ready as I'll ever be.  I pick up my chin and walk out the door into the world.

Now I have the look, but now I have to work to keep up the attitude, the confidence, the demeanor.  It's not so much for hiding and seeming "ok" as it is me preferring to focus on other people, talk to other people.  Of course, I can let my guard down, especially if I'm in small company, and whenever I'm in small company it tends to be with people that I'm close to anyway and know that my face is just a mask anyway.  Hence the title of this post.

Do I really do this every time I go out?  Yes.  Well, 95% of the time.  There are times where I simply do not care, which is never good, especially because you can tell just by looking at me, despite whatever facial expression I carry.  I simply will not look as put together as I usually do.

Now, the purpose of this post wasn't only to share how I feel from day to day, but also just this week.  This week was really just awful emotionally because someone very close to me ended up in hospital and we almost lost him.  Thankfully he is recovering just fine and should be going home today or tomorrow, but it was a scary ordeal.  Except I was never scared.

I've definitely had to step it up a bit and I've been examining myself as I do so.  Despite what happened I remained quite calm throughout all of it.  Part of it is definitely because I'm a pretty calm person.  My house could be on fire and I would no doubt call 911 and chat with the operator as if I were simply inviting them over for a little get-together.

I wanna say that that serenity comes from some assurance that everything is going to be all right, and part of it does come from that idea, but I also felt that the other part of it comes simply from apathy, and I'm not sure how to feel about that.  I used to be very apathetic in general about everything, and it did me so much harm, so to feel it still there disturbs me, especially in a situation like that where a person I cared for was in peril.

I remained "strong", so to speak, throughout everything partly due to simple apathy.  I'm figuring that it's just one of my defense mechanisms, to protect myself against the worst, but I don't like that that's what my brain does.  The only way I can move past it is because I know that in the end I did care, I do care - it's just that my demeanor grew colder and my whole personality adjusted itself during the crisis as a sort of defense - a defense so "strong" that it even masked the care I felt.  A perfect poker face. 

But as much as I did care there was a little bit of apathy in spite of it.  Again the only way I can even move past it is because there was the larger part of me that did care.

My sister asked me why I seemed like I didn't care at all.  Why I seemed so apathetic.  It did bother me.  I don't want to seem like I don't care, because I care quite a lot about most everyone, and, of course, especially those nearest to my heart, or nearest to my "pit" as my sister would say.  In the end she's joking and in the end I know she knows that I do care.  I laugh whenever she says it because it fits so well with the persona that has been so permanently assimilated into my personality: my whole "child of darkness" quirk that I greatly enjoy.  And in the end I personally know that I care, and know that I'm good person, and I'll go as far as to say that my wretched heart is actually two sizes too big versus too small.  Just don't tell anyone - I have a reputation to keep ;o

I suppose that the fact that it bothers me that I'd be viewed as apathetic suggests that I'm probably not.  Perhaps I really am just really calm, to the point where I can make light of the most serious situations and events and I confuse it with apathy?  I'm not sure, because I know that as much as I may care I am equally as capable of not caring at all.  I can always slide back into that mindset, even after climbing out of the hole.  I'm not going to let it bother me, but I just wanted to get it out of my system.

I suppose the title of this post refers to a true poker face I felt come out during the whole thing this week, one that didn't break or falter like my day to day mask might.  Actually, to call it a mask is a bit of a disservice to me.  I just like the word mask, but I suppose 'brave face' is more accurate, because what you see on my face day to day is real for the most part, just not the whole picture.

This post felt all over the place but I really just needed to write something.  Thanks for reading =)

Field of paper flowers...

Amy Lee is an actual person.  Trufax.  It was kind of surreal watching her just bound onto the stage all energized, belting out the band's newest single "What You Want" within ten feet of me.  She remained about within ten feet of me for the entire show.

I could whine about how people at concerts are jerks, or complain about how I was pressed up against the gate the whole time, or about how I could not move and how the term "personal space" ceased to have meaning.  But, in the end, none of these things mattered.  What mattered is that I got to see a person that I've looked up to for the past five years perform.  But, what I will say, is that people smell.

You could look at me right now in my very overpriced Evanescence hoodie and easily say "He's obsessed," and pity what you assume is some sad practice of idolatry I engage in.  I may even joke that it is idolatry and pretend to be some mindless fan.  But do trust me when I say that Amy and the band in general mean quite a bit more to me than that and I wouldn't dream of calling my affection for Evanescence some petty obsession.

It was the band's music that gave voice the various thoughts and emotions I was feeling back when I first got into them, which was something that no other music I was listening to at the time was doing for me.  It's a bit of a cliché I suppose, being fifteen and thinking no one understands how you feel, but then here's this young woman singing and making you feel like she's gone, or is going through, things similar to what you are.

It was pretty powerful, and I must admit that I spent most of the latter-half of 06 and first half of 07 listening to Ev almost exclusively, and pretty regularly since then.

What I find wonderful about them as well is that I can still go back to older songs of theirs and find that what may not have spoken to me years ago now means quite a lot.  The song "Your Star" is like this now, I realized it last night when she sang it.  I think I perhaps even view it as a prayer of sorts, and I'm going back and listening to it a lot now.

I know several people who glance at the music and classify it as, like, downer music and be pretty confident in that conviction.  I mean, I guess I can see how you can just label it that way, and I probably use some umbrella-labels for other groups or types of music as well so I'm not going to say anything against those people lest I become a hypocrite.  I personally don't think it is "downer" music.  To me it's real.  A lot of the songs bring up very raw and powerful emotions that I think a lot of people are scared of - it's music that takes you to some broken places, places that we don't want to be.  But within the dark is the empowerment that Amy and other band members pour into the lyrics.  Encouragement to overcome.  Empowerment to become stronger.  Strength to move on.  That's what these songs mean to me, and that's what I see in them.  And, to be perfectly honest, the songs make me happy.  They elevate my mood.  I know some people have a hard time even understanding how that works and that's ok, I don't understand it myself - I just consider it as one of my many quirks.

Anyway, really glad that I went to see them last night.  It was amazing to hear her sing live, and feel the sound coming from the speakers and resonating throughout my being.  It was great to see her passion for what she does, and feel that she is genuine.  I hold so much respect for her and wish her the best in her career, her life, her marriage, and everything in-between.   Thank you, Amy and Evanescence.

I could keep going on so I'm just going to stop before this gets really long and repetitive.  Thanks for reading =)

Grocery Shopping

Just a little thing I wrote tonight.  Enjoy =)

                It was an ordinary day in an ordinary supermarket in the LA area.  Sem was in a nearby store and had left Sorena the task of picking up a few groceries.

                The ancient woman stood in the freezer aisle, peering through the smudgy glass doors at the products behind them.  The aisle was completely clear save for a few people stealing bewildered glances at the witch from around corners.  Sorena sighed and consulted a small list in her hand, looking down her thin nose at it, reading the neat handwriting.

                “Ice cream,” Sorena muttered.  “We never buy ice cream…”  She took a step or two sideways until she was in front of the section labeled ‘Ice Cream’.  “How much ice cream?” she wondered aloud.  Sem hadn’t specified how much.  “And he just expects me to know what flavour he wants?”  She’d only known him for about eight hundred years – how was she to know?

                The woman gazed at the selection.  A minor defect in the packaging of one of the tubs caught her eye.  It was a miniscule dent in the corner, one that only the most tragic of OCD cases would detect.  Of course, Sorena wasn’t OCD, she was just easily distracted.  She darted her eyes to the right, and then to the left, and then opened the refrigerator door, snatched the deformed tub of ice cream, and casually tossed it into the plastic shopping basket she held.  She hadn’t even checked to see what flavor it was.

                As she walked away she read off the next item on the list.  “…Pickles?”  She stopped.  “He doesn’t even like pickles…” she commented.  “Do I like pickles?” she thought for a moment.  “I don’t believe I do.”  With another sigh she went about finding the condiment aisle.  After a moment she located the aisle and after another moment was looking at jars of pickles.

                On the other end of the aisle the loud sound of thick-heeled boots could be heard against the linoleum floors.  The wearer of the boots passed by and spotted the mass of dark clothing that was Sorena in the corner of her eye.  She glanced Sorena’s way and smiled almost immediately, coming to a stop.  The second woman was dressed much more modernly, wearing skin-tight jeans, a navy blouse, and a silky-grey flyaway vest along with the aforementioned boots that went up to her knees.

                Within another moment the woman was making her way down the aisle towards Sorena.  The new woman had a very tangible presence about her, but Sorena was completely oblivious to such things.

                “Well, well, well,” the new woman said with a smug grin, hand on her hip.  “Look who’s come out of her dark lair to be in the real world.”

                “…This one,” Sorena said to herself.  “This one looks like Bach…”  She was pointing a finger at a specific pickle in a specific jar.  She grabbed it and dropped it into her basket and only then noticed the woman standing next to her.  Sorena blinked at the woman for a moment, a blank expression on her face.  “Oh…” she muttered, realizing who was talking to her.  “Hello Lysis.”

                Lysis smiled.  “You’re less and less focused each time I see you.  I keep waiting for the day when you lose it entirely and Sem will finally have to admit you into a home.”

                “Are you normally this rude to every person you encounter, I wonder?” Sorena shot back, walking away.

                “Just you really, dear,” Lysis answered, walking beside the woman.  “I didn’t know you did these sorts of things.”

                “What things?”

                “Grocery shopping.”

                “Well,” Sorena started, a bit flabbergasted.  “Of course I buy groceries.”

                “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you eat,” Lysis pointed out.

                “Don’t be ridiculous.  Of course I eat,” Sorena said.  “You don’t even have a right to say something like that when the only thing I’ve seen you consume is alcohol.”

                Lysis laughed.  “I don’t drink as much as you think I do.”

                “No, certainly not,” Sorena rolled her eyes.  She wandered into the next aisle and began randomly perusing through the products on the shelves.

                “Ice cream and pickles…” Lysis said with a raised brow.  “Please tell me this is for one of your weird concoctions.”

                “Ask Sem!” Sorena huffed.  “Neither of us even like pickles!”

                “Ugh, disgusting.  I wish you two wouldn’t act like a couple.  It’s upset my stomach on more than one occasion.”

                “Are you certain you weren’t simply hung-over?” Sorena cracked.

                “Old skag, you’re lucky I don’t just put a bullet in your head and put you out of your misery.”

                “You’re lucky I tolerate you so much.  If Sem wasn’t so fond of you I would have made you disappear a long time ago.”

                “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lysis shot back, enjoying the passive-aggressive banter.

                “What are you doing here anyway?” Sorena asked. “I always thought you frequented places where pints of milk cost thousands of dollars.”

                “Thousands of dollars for some milk?” Lysis crooked a brow. “The economy’s not that bad yet, dear.”

                “Answer my question,” Sorena said.

                Lysis shrugged.  “I was passing by and needed to grab some things.  Like you, I also do everyday things like buy groceries.”

                Sorena wasn’t convinced.  “You live in the city centre, which is twenty minutes away.”

                “Can’t a girl go out?”

                “Out where?”

                “Working.”

                “Ha!” Sorena shouted.  She knew what ‘working’ meant when it came to Lysis.  The young woman made quite a living on ending the living of others, to put it simply.  “See, at least I spend my time in a commendable manner-”

                “Rasputin.”

                “…What?”

                “Rasputin,” Lysis repeated.

                “I… T-that was an accident!” Sorena said indignantly.

                “Yes, of course, love,” Lysis nodded.

                “It was!  The man was bonkers anyway,” she whispered fiercely under her breath.

                “And who didn’t take responsibility?  You?  Oh yes, that’s right,” Lysis continued, completely enjoying herself.

                “Still!  It wasn’t on purpose!  And I didn’t get paid for it!  So I will still judge you.”

                Lysis shrugged again.

                The two continued their banter for the rest of Sorena’s little shopping trip.  Sem met them as they stepped out of the store.

                “Ah, Lysis, I thought I sensed you here,” Sem said.

                “Hey, babe,” Lysis said.  “Just helping the old woman out with her shopping.  You shouldn’t leave her on her own like that, you know.”

                Sem rolled his eyes and took the grocery bag from Sorena and peered inside.

                “… Pickles?”

                “That’s what I said,” Sorena commented.

                “The list didn’t say to get pickles,” Sem mumbled.

                “It did actually!” Sorena said, producing the list. 

                “I will vouch for her this once and say that it did have pickles on there,” Lysis said. “Poor Sem, her sickness is rubbing off on you.”

                Sem snatched the list and looked at it for less than a moment before saying, “I didn’t write this.”

                Sorena stole back the list.  “You’re right.  This isn’t your handwriting.”

                “You couldn’t notice that before?” Lysis wondered, quite amused.

                Sorena thought for a moment.  “Oh, yes, that’s right.  As I was walking in I realized that I had misplaced the list you had given me.  I looked around on the ground and found this and simply assumed it was the one you had written.”

                Sem only shook his head and smiled before grabbing the old woman’s arm and pulled her back inside.  Lysis followed behind them with a phone in her hand, saying loud enough for Sorena to hear, “I think I will tell Francis to buy her that coffin…”

©2011 James Curry a.k.a Sem

Character Analysis: Captain Francis Bellefleur

This is the character I wanted to share last update but Sorena kind of butt-in.  Anyway, here he is - Captain Bellefleur.  He will insist on being referred to as "Captain" - only close friends can get away with addressing him as Francis.

Origins
Captain Bellefleur was created in the Spring of 2010 - during my time in Northern Ireland - and I'd wager he's about a year and a half old.  He was actually created for an entirely different project that has since been abandoned, much like my many other projects.  However, he still continued to exist in my mind, waiting to be given some form of "life" elsewhere. 

There is a reason I put life in sarcasm-quotes, and that's because the good Captain isn't technically alive.  He's undead.  To make the image clearer in your mind he is an animated skeleton.  There is a reason I decided to do this, that being that skeletons are usually used to scare or freak people out.  So, it is in my nature to take something like that and twist it around.  Captain Bellefleur is about the nicest person you could ever meet, and is the source of some of the comedy in my universe.  It wouldn't even be much of an exaggeration to say that he is an incarnation of goodness itself. 

Captain Bellefleur is an effort of my part to turn a symbol of death into a symbol of life and goodness.

Personality
As I said above, Francis is an incredibly nice and giving individual.  He spends his time doing an impossible number of things and is quite the philanthropist.  He is an excellent cook, and owns a rather popular higher class restaurant in New York city called la nourriture.  Using his culinary skills and the resources of his restaurant he sends meals to poorhouses and shelters on a bi-weekly basis.

He supports countless charities and very often visits those in need. (often in disguise)  He keeps several bee colonies within the city and has several gardens that he tends to.

He is not capable of speech, but knows how to write and knows several forms of sign-language.  Despite this, he will rarely use these skills to communicate with friends, and rather enjoys watching them trying to discern what he's trying to communicate, as well as decipher his current mood and emotions.  (He shouldn't be able to see or hear either, but he somehow can anyway, or so people assume, and he somehow just knows whenever a dish is ready to be served.)  He is usually as jolly as his skeleton grin would suggest.

The good Captain is a bit finicky about clothes on others, and will fix anything he feels seems out of place. He also loves to dance and is proficient in many different kinds of dance.  He will keep up with the reality TV shows focused on singing and dancing.  He is a lover of the arts in general and is also a bit of a movie nut - enjoying heartfelt tearjerkers the most.  He finds the horror genre laughable, though anything featuring the undead may put him on edge.  He is an avid supporter of undead rights and runs an undead support group.

Francis can tend to have a bit of a morbid sense of humor, often hiding in people's closets, or buying coffins or grave plots for people on their birthdays.  He celebrates his "deathday" instead of his birthday.  Halloween is also his favorite day of the year and co-runs an annual haunted house along with Sem and Sorena.  He enjoys the holidays in general and loves hosting parties.

Francis can be quite dramatic, and looking at him would make one believe that he lives in a sort of fantasy world.  This is partially true, but he longs to simply serve as an example to others through his acts of service and simplicity.

Captain Bellefleur may also be a bit oblivious to social norms and doesn't tend to sweat stuff that should be sweat over.  He has a magical key, a skeleton key, (lol) that allows him to get through any lock.  So he'll casually walk into places he shouldn't be.  He'll also use the key to "borrow" cars if he's in a hurry.  (He's not a very good driver though.)  He tries his best to return the car where he found it, often to find an angry owner or a police officer.

Looking at him you wouldn't know that he is an expert swordsman or marksman, but he is also a pacifist at his core, and will only take up a weapon in defense of another.  He is deeply in tune with both the physical and spiritual world and always seems to know when something is happening.

He loves children, as they for some unknown reason are able to accept him as he is more easily than adults are, and he loves making them happy.

His new dream is to start a clothing line along with Elizabeth, another character of mine who still needs some development.

Appearance
In private or in the presence of people used to his skeletal form Captain Bellefleur wears very little - often just a pair of boots, a military-style frock coat, a belt, and a large tricorne-styled hat with a large pink feather.  Of course, he'll dress up appropriately for any special occasion, but he is almost always wearing the hat.

In public he's sure to wear a cloak that covers him completely.

©2011 James Curry a.k.a Sem

(Note that the hat in the picture wasn't drawn as large as it's supposed to be.) 

History
 Francis Bellefleur was a French noble several centuries ago, greedy and corrupt to his core.  He was also a privateer, and was captain of his own ship.  He raided the seas for the sake of his country, and it was his greed that eventually led to his death when he decided to attack a ship belonging to the church - which was forbidden by any nation.  A battle ensued and he was caught up in a bizarre mixture of magical energies that killed him, but also bound his spirit to his corpse.

The more his body decayed the more good he became, and he lived out the centuries pursuing goodness.  In his mind his life had been devoted to selfishness and greed, and so his death would be devoted to selflessness and service.

Not long after his death he met Sem and Sorena and quickly became close with them.  He went with them when they decided to move to the American colonies in the 1700s shortly before they gained their independence.

He spent the entire nineteenth century living with the poor of the larger cities such as New York, and in the twentieth century visited places like Africa and India as well as traveled the world.  During his travels he was able to become a master chef, able to cook a variety of dishes from practically every nation and culture.

Near the end of the twentieth century he returned to New York and finally realized his dream of opening a restaurant.

Personal Impact
Francis is still a bit young to have had any sort of huge impact on me yet.  He's merely fun to think about at this point and I do get really amused imagining him in certain situations.

He is the only character of mine that is purposely ridiculous, and I like it.  I feel that it's good to be flexible and realize that not everything needs an explanation, and some of my explanations for things can be pretty farfetched anyway, even in this incredibly flexible universe.

I could say that he's an example of how we should be towards our fellow man ;o

Thanks for reading! =)

The character Captain Francis Bellefleur is ©2010 James Curry a.k.a Sem

One year later...

I wrote this a little over a month ago and I told myself I wouldn't share it until today.  Well, it's today.  Emo alert :x

Shot

The young man walked down the road,

Green grass to his left, no longer grey,

Green grass to his right, no longer dry,

In front of him, mountains majestic to behold,

Blue was the sky before him,

Dark was the sky from where he had come,

Cracked was the road he had walked,

But no more.

Still he had doubts, but joy did flutter in his heart,

His string of hope held strong.

He gazed at the mountains before him,

He wondered to which peaks he would climb,

A flower by the road caught his eye,

He smiled and picked it, held it to his nose,

Content to hold it, he continued walking,

The young man was unaware that the flower had changed in his grasp,

The flower that was so bright was now black.

And then a shot rang out from his right.

Pain flew through him.

He fell onto his left without a sound, without protest,

He watched as the black flower danced to the ground before his face.

His joy spilled out onto the road, staining it red.

The world shuddered.

Once again the sky was dark.

Once again the grass was withered and faded,

The ground on which he lay was now broken.

He could not see the mountains – where had they gone?

His life bled out - sorrow and fear took life’s place in him

His joy drowned, his doubts confirmed,

The string had been cut.

With one final breath he whispered,

“How foolish of me, to believe that there was any other ending but this.”

And into darkness he fell,

And fell,

And fell.

©2011 James Curry a.k.a Sem

I make such a good dark and tortured poet |D  Next poem I do promise to end on a bit more of a positive note so that I'm not such a downer all the time ;o  Anyway, as you might have been able to tell this does hold quite of a bit of personal significance to me, but obviously it can be reinterpreted in any fashion according to the reader.

In other news...

The new Evanescence album is out today.  You have no idea how long I've been waiting, but it's finally over, and it was worth it <3  If I'm feeling exceptionally obsessive I may blog about a couple songs.  Also, isn't the album cover amazing?  I love it so much.  I love everything about the album.

I also had a great weekend with some great people at a retreat in some place in the middle of nowhere.  It rained.  It was nice <3

Also.  I'm planning to write up some "Holiday specials," if you will, featuring some of my characters.  Planning to do ones for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas for sure, debating New Years.  Thoughts?  I'm not sure if I can post them easily into the blog.  Depending on how large they are I may break them up into parts so as to not overwhelm you all.  That's it for now folks.

PS. I've used a lot more smileys in this post than I usually do :x