I've got your back
if you've got my hand.


Bah. Those bloody vikings.
I a reckon, if I live for another ten years and cross darling little Sim again, that's the first thing I'd bring up. How are your vikings? It was like a personal joke now, though I still reckon she did have an army of 'em. What lass with a sword and red eyes didn't have an army? And hell, if she twisted me around her little finger that quickly, it wouldn't be hard for her to get an army of sufficient men. I reckon, if I was a viking, and she was offering me the chance to live by all she says and does; I wouldn't hesitate to accept. And after wards, I'd always put me self out to do the best, eh, just to please her. I'd burn down any village without question, break bones and necks without hesitation. 'Cause love, who wouldn't? And, if ye weren't the sort who would follow for lust, ye'd be the one to keep step with her in curiosity. That sword, those red eyes... Surely ye were just itching to know what the girl was capable of, now? Eh, building an army would be a piece of cake for Simmy. Though sweetie, I don't reckon she was fooled by my blabbering now--what sort of half brained twit that couldn't even walk in a straight line commanded an army? Bah, see love? There was no way anybody was gonna wanna follow me around, eh--hell, it was difficult enough getting a lass to spend a day with me.
Man, she wouldn't be fooled for a second.

But then again, she was willing enough to spend the night with me. Was a commander of a make-believe army really that much of a turn on? It's not like she'd really be suffering from boredom--she could walk five steps and find a much better man. Or just spend the night with one of her vikings, eh. And yet, she was giving the honor to me. Maybe it was looks she was going for, rather then reputation. That mop of dark brown hair, streaked with a fiery orange hue, those black, lifeless eyes and that six pack was probably all she was after. Who gave a damn about personality these days? It was just a small factor; just something else for you to bitch about. Not that you didn't have enough already, but that was besides the point. Ye see, the point is, I had no idea why she wanted me. Out of all the other men, and her army of vikings, she'd rather spend a night with me. But 'pose, Frostylake wasn't exactly crawling with men, now. Which, it seems, was a bonus for me. 'Cause, yeah, I'm all the ladies got, eh. Or they just packed up there bags and left. Ha. Which was probably what Simmy here was planning to do--in the morning, at least. Tonight was ours... Which was insane.
Bah. That's it. Maybe I'm hallucinating.
Like there was any reason for her to want to spend the night with me.

She had settled herself under the branches of an old oak by the time I'd got there. I stood about two metres or so in front of her, black eyes holding tightly onto that small frame. She offered a small laugh, obviously entertained. Not that I thought it was that funny... Maybe there was something I was missing? Black eyes were kept emotionless, face remaining completely still.
"They wouldn't dare think about you unless I give them permission, silly."
She threw a fanged smile in my way, as if that was meant to reassure me. But she was missing the point sweetie--I was more afraid that she would give them permission. Well, not really afraid--that wasn't the right word. I don't think I was afraid to die; but nor was I afraid to live. I'm easy, either way we go. Alive or dead; what's the difference, anyway?
Not much, I a reckon.

Her hands flashed to wards her corset, eyes immediately trailing behind them. She fingered the thread, loosening it and exposing more of what was hardly covered before. Oh damn it love, what was trying to do to me? Drive me insane? Man, it was working. For the first time this evening, a half grin was given to her, somewhat encouraging her. Or at least, trying to get her to cough up some instructions, 'cause really, I had no idea what to do. Bah, she was stuffing 'round with me head, that's for sure. Don't reckon there was gonna be a chance to get her out of there. Not for tonight, at least.
"Surely your men won't mind if you take the night off, will they?"
I think she was being genuine. Maybe that's why she had me following her around like a dog--she actually thought I had an army. Was she really that stupid? She couldn't be. Don't think there was a single idiot in this world that would actually believe that. Shoulders were shrugged idly, eyes still drawn to the loose string on her corset, fingers shoving themselves roughly into my jeans. Ye know, so they didn't end up straying anywhere before time was due. Not that I knew when to actually go for it...
Man, this was going to be interesting.

"Of course, I'll have to tell the ninjas to take paid leave for today."
Far out, she was talkative. And I'd hardly said anything for the last few seconds. It was amazing really--she'd actually managed to shut me up. For once, I was the wall flower, watching carefully, mind working more then tongue. Ninja? She had vikings and ninjas? Bah. At least she was paying them... Hell, that made her rich. And she was bored? With ninjas, vikings and money, she was bored? What the hell? That's the only entertainment I'd need for the next ten years, I tell ye. And hell, I'd be around for the next ten years if I had that sort of man-power.
"You're actually paying them? Hell, just get your vikings to keep an eye on them, eh. They'd be in ye're service till the day you die, and ye won't have ta pay them a cent,"
Man, that piece of advice actually surprised me.

Cautiously, I stepped to wards her, standing just above her. She rocked back wards onto her elbow, causing a small, almost invisible shiver, run up me spin. She was enjoying this, no doubt... Idly, body was lowered, legs laying out flat in front of me. Hip was twisted, so full body was facing her, one hand propping up me head, the other one cupping the back of her head. What was I supposed to do? Hell, was she even being serious? Let her control this. She looked like the girl who'd absolutely hate to have someone else in charge. But then again, I'd known for her... about ten minutes? Hell, and I was here, under the branches of an oak tree, shirtless, one hand resting on the back of her head. Man, this was screwed.
"Tell me about your eyes, Simmy,"


[lyrics--audrey, start the revolution, anberlin]

her body structure screams,
'touch her, touch her'.

Was it really that obvious?
Was every boy that ever hesitated a virgin? Couldn't he just have morals, virtues, promises to keep? Probably not, but that was besides the point. I'd like to pretend, love, that the only reason she was still fully clothed was because I was worried about the promise I had once intended to keep. It's not as easy as I thought it would be; you know, the whole moving on thing? I just couldn't walk out that door without taking her with me, taking all those memories, all those stupid emotions. It hadn't worked like I had planned it to. But then, love, it wasn't like I had exactly planned to fall in love with her, eh. Same way as I never had planned to be laying here, one hand stroking a lady's locks, knowing full well what both our intentions were. That, see poppet, was something I had only dreamed about, but never planned for. Normally, sweetie, girls like Simmy didn't bother with boys like me. Hell, if you were lucky, you got a first name. I'd gotten more then that; I got a last name too. And darling, she was still offering more. So surely love, with all promises and morals in thought, what idiot wouldn't fall into a temptation like this? I wasn't gonna start out-doing all the best of the blokes, now.
So sweeite, I'm pretty sure I was in.

I think it was her, sweetie, that wasn't fully comitteed. It's not like she was jumping at me or anything, or begging me to get into anything, eh. She was lacking enthusiam, if ye ask me. But then, how did my opinion matter? It's not like, darl, I had done any research into proving my hypothoesis. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be--she just lays there and other stuff happens. Then, darl, what everyone else had told me was a god damn lie. And hell, ye know how I felt about liars, now don't ye? Not too fond of them, I ain't. But honey, for the x time already, I was off the track. The point is, for your information, that I don't think she was too gun-high for this either. Bah, maybe she's a virgin? I was doubting it, poppet; how else did she get an army of vikings and a pack of ninjas, eh? I doubted she was that rich. She was obviously giving them a little bit more then what she was letting on...
Maybe that's why my army was non-exsistant.
I wasn't offering myself to every man that walked past.

I suppose I'm going to have to start doing that. The bar tab on the vikings gets so high I have to throw a few overboard every month.
Bah.! She was a funny one, she was. Interesting, surely, even if ye didn't have much of a humor. One side of mouth was risen into a smile, one that simply refused to meet the eyes. And then it was gone. I told ye how emotions make me feel, haven't I? Exposed, if I haven't said so already. And dear, that's something I hardly enjoy. Maybe that's were the overly energetic tongue came from; it had just gotten so sick from not saying anything. So now, love, it just droned on about flowers and vikings, without any emotion, or care into what it was spitting out. That's what it did too--just spat out words all day long. And those words hardly ever made sense, love. And nor did they ever sound like english...
Pardon me, love, even me mind refused to shut up, or form correct sentences. I reckon it'd kill some sharp minded genius too live in me head for a day--it was all clutter in here.
No wonder I couldn't find sense, when there's murder all over the stupid floor.

"I got my eyes from my mother, just like you got yours. And I have no idea nor care where she got hers from,"
Simple enough. She was being honest for once, too. Honestly, I was half-expecting her to cook up some story about dragons frying her eyes or something like that.
"Yours, on the other hand, are very mysterious."
Now she was getting a bit more enthusiastic. That was a total lie, really. Boring black eyes vs. red, cat like ones? Hardly. But then, sweetie, she could be referring to the fact that those eyes were sworn to deep secrecy. Hers, on the other hand, were alive and talking, aye. I just no idea what they were saying, that's all. Me lil companion wormed closer, no doubt perfectly content with what she was doing. Did she even have a conscience? Or was mine just working over time? Should there, really, be any shame about one night stands? Because that's all this was gonna be, wasn't it? If it's a long term relationship, I was pulling out now. I wasn't gonna be taking on her ninjas and vikings, and putting up with a man a night sneaking out of my house in the middle of the night. 'Cause frankly, I didn't Simba was capable of holding anything longer then a one night stand. Even a summer fling seemed too much effort for her.
Or maybe I was just being stupid.
Who knew what lurked beneath those red cat eyes, aye?
"Actually, poppet, my eyes are from my dad,"

"Ever kissed a girl before, Tur-dude?"
Okay, now she was being stupid. Of course I've kissed a girl--I wasn't a lip virgin, now sweetie. Wasn't it obvious? Did I really look that pathetic? Or maybe love, this was a twisted sport of hers. Find the beginners, the newbies, and scar them for the rest of their lives. Hell, she was probably capable of turning me gay, I a reckon. She did have that mean streak about her, aye. Before I had the chance to inform her that, hey, I wasn't a complete newbie, she was moving again. Those pretty little fingers of hers rested themselves against tanned shoulders. One leg was brought into action, hovering across the space before resting just in front of me own. Eyes were pulled off her face, glancing down towards her legs, trying to grasp what she was trying to do. Was that supposed to be some sign? Or some sort of stretch?
bah. Screw it, I a say.

Doing me best to put it out of me mind that she was a complete and utter stranger, position was altered once again, body trying to roll weightlessly onto her own. One hand still held the back of her head, giving her the best pillow I had to offer. Eagerly, lips searched for her own, face trying to crush her little head in the palm of me hand. One leg was moved, lifting over her lower frame, to land on the other side of her, leaving her petite body over-shadowed by me own.
"Of course."
For once, voice held some emotion... Lust? 'Course sweeite, what else was there? I'd known her for no longer then ten minutes, no other emotions could surface in that short amount of time. If she was found dead tomorrow, there would probably only be respect. Respect that, hey, she broke my shell. Shattered it into a million sharp-edged pieces. Who knew, maybe tomorrow I'll be gone far enough to offer up a smile? And maybe I'll mean it too.
See what she was doing, love?
Breaking every rule I'd ever made., that's what.


[lyrics--curse of curves, cute is what we aim for]

cards down, guns drawn
this is it.

Don't talk to strangers.
Bah. 'Pose I better start keeping me mouth shut now, eh? 'Cause honestly, whoever thought to come up with that obviously didn't think of getting physical with strangers. Hell, if we'd had kept our mouths shut, then we'd be following the rules alright. Because nobody had ever bothered telling me not to touch strangers in a sexual way. But then again, at five years old, I didn't even know what the word 'sexual' meant. Hell, I was still a-believing that Pa had honestly found me in a cabbage patch. Innocent boy, I was. And now what was I? A murderer. Somebody who had a pretty good idea that, no, babies didn't come from cabbage patches. In fact, looks like I was gonna get a pretty rough idea where babies did come from. Not that I was planning to get her pregnant--that wasn't right. But neither was this. Ye know, with the whole stranger aspect of what we had going here. That was, morally, wrong. And I was pretty sure Heaven wasn't all to welcoming to those who portrayed that sort of behavior--in fact, I was positive. I don't know what I was gonna do about my dead girl then, if I was gonna be destined to Hell. It's not like it was a return ticket or anything, poppet. But honestly, what was the chances that, regardless of tonight, would I get in? I was a liar, a cheater, a selfish and moral less person. And yeah, maybe even a murderer to. And I, out of all the good people out in this screwed up world, was gonna get a one way ticket to even.
I didn't think so, sweetie.

So now, sweetie, I think I was breaking all the rules, including the little "don't talk to strangers" law. That just went flying through the window, poppet. And if anybody ever said "don't kiss strangers" then I just broke that one too. Two rules broken in less then ten minutes, and I was too content to break even more. But I don't think I was thinking, love. In fact, I was positive. I was just acting, and then trying to come up with ways to make it sound bad ass. Or logical, in it's own way. It wasn't thinking anymore--I just screwing up and making excuses. The excuse for making meself comfortable on some complete and utter stranger at a screwed up place like Cherry Blossom? I was lonely. And that simple little word made ye do I lot of stupid things; you can trust me on that. Not that there was ever a reason not to trust me, sweetie. I was an innocent little lamb, if I say so meself. Just a bit rough around those edges, but most of the time, I was well behaved. Or at least as well behaved as a teenage murderer could be, poppet. Funny, aye, how that was me excuse. I'm a freakin' teenage murderer, I have permission to lie, to cheat, to bleed. It doesn't matter what everybody else said; I had something that gave me complete authority, that gave me permission to ditch all morals and justice that once ruled my life. And what did ye have love? Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Because I was the king of the castle ye see? and you're just plain nothing.

There was something that was constantly nagging at me.
While I was trying to excuse my bad behavior by setting my own rules, I couldn't find the authority I was looking for. There was no pride, nothing that made me ego swell and burst. I just felt out of insane, out of control. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest at the empty words in me head, feel the blood pounding through my veins. But I didn't control anything. I had no authority, no logic, no excuses. But I was alive. And for once, I was aware of the way my fingers tingled, aware of a lady's smooth skin, and her petite frame. I was well aware of my breathing; becoming deeper and deeper the more lips were pressed against hers. And she didn't once object. Her lips welcomed mine gently, her body remaining complete frozen underneath my touch. But never did I feel in control. In fact, I felt disconnected. Disconnected from my mind, at least, and overly sensative to my body. All the emotions I had tried to conceal were running wild, lust twisting my own face, those black eyes burning for once. But there was still a lingering feeling of guilt, the only thing that kept body and mind connected. It was the only thing that my mind consisted of at the moment; guilt. No common sense, no logic. Just guilt.
And there was bucket loads of it to.

Her fingers moved, leaving a burning touch on my bare shoulders. Lips parted from hers, as body was risen an inch off hers, giving her space. Her fingers quickly pulled away at the last of the strings, casting the corset aside. Eyes moved down her body briefly, that nagging feeling of guilt loosing some of the magic she was throwing at me. Her she was, laying beneath me in only lacey ebony undies, and guilt was still close by hand. Sure, there was another part of my mind, a more governing side that was purely lust, but it couldn't get rid of it completely. Her lips moved along me jaw, working down my neck, before her head was rested on the floor again.
"Having fun yet?"
She was still very much in control. That michevious smile, those observant red eyes... She had enough to pull me apart and leave me bleeeding on the side walk. She was taunting with me, playing with my newly acquired emotions. And screwing with the part of my mind that was trying to bring back common sense.
She was...insane.

For a moment, I hesitated, trying to gauge wether or not she was actually expecting an answer. What sort of question was that? Wasn't it plain enough for her to see? Of course she knew. In the past fifteen or so minutes, she'd known everything. And I was just a simple toy for her to screw with. Literally. Arms were rearranged, forearms resting beside her head, trapping her small body underneath mine. Face hovered closely above hers, the small quiver of lips vaguely resembling a smile.
"I believe it's wise of me to say yes to that question, dear. I'm doing my best not to have ye call your damned viking army on me, ye see,"
Tunes were filled with a low key of amusement, one that could hardly be regonised. But it was still there, darling. Lips were lowered, travelling down her neck, and cruising across the collarbone. It was funny, really, how quickly everything had moved on. Where was the first dte, the meeting of the parents, the marriage? We were skipping everything that gave human kind a good name.

Lips left her body, hovering just above her face once more. Position was altered once again, rolling off her body, and resting on me hips. Likewise, she was pulled into the same position, one hand holding the side of her hip.
"You're a funny girl, Simmy. I don't understand ye one bit, ye understand?"


[mmm... I don't know. Tur boy isn't the sort that goes around kidnapping people. lol. how about they just sorta talk, and end up falling asleep. and then tur can wake up, and simmy's gone, and he can be hell mad when he sees her next.? bahha. I dunno.]
[lyrics--audrey, start the revolution, anberlin]

it's not that I hang on,
I'm just never letting go.


Darling, it looks like your lucky day. Ye wanted a blabbering mental patient who had some vague idea of such values? Here I am, then sweetie. Or was. Maybe that's a better word--was. Loyal, honest, trustworthy...All pieces of me that had been buried besides her in that damn grave I kept bringing up. At least, poppet, I still had some form of a conscience in tow. And I tell ye, dear, it was making itself well known, that's for sure! Not a single day crept by without it nagging at me, without that tiny voice creeping into my head to steer me else where. It was company, at least. Not that I was lacking company, it seemed--each new day had brought on a new female company so far. But the boys, eh? I reckon they steered away from me, or so it seems. Ain't seen a single one, I'm telling ye. Maybe I'm just unlucky, 'cause I'd doubt I was the only one here. Or maybe that's the truth. Maybe I'm the reason this town was so god damn deserted. Maybe I was the reason everybody simply passed through this time, never to be seen again. Was I, unintentionally, driving away the sole hope for this deprived town? We needed a population, drama, excitement... This was nothing compared to Summer Bay, I'm telling ye. Don't know a single soul here that's pregnant, the crime rate has been significantly lower, and everybodys pretty healthy. Which is a change, I tell ye.

I can remember those good ol' days, aye. The days when murder was something ye woke up to every morning, when rape was just a day-to-day thing. And now? Hell, it looks like everybody was behaving themselves--for once. And it was unfortunate, I tell ye; there was nothing to keep ye up at night, nothing that had your heart hammering at every muffled sound. It was just... boring. Maybe borings the wrong word to use though, when I'm laying here with a hand resting on some lady's hip. But this town was certainly not much for entertainment. Perhaps it was best if I just moved on too, if I just went and found hell elsewhere. 'Cause lately, Frostylake was too much llike Heaven for my likings.
Bah. And thats where I was intending to go when I died, eh. To a boring life filled up to the ceiling with rules, morals and values. A life that was almost identical to Frostylake.
Mmm. Perhaps I should be moving on, eh.

It was strange now, the self control that had been lost seconds ago was slowly filtering back, common sense knocking on the doors of my mind. Not that I had much for common sense to begin with, now. A damned fool I a-was--the sort that couldn't walk ten yards without tripping more then three times. Bah. It's funny, I was doing my best to get to heaven without any wisdom, deprived of the ability to walk in a straight line. And not a second ago I was critizing Heaven, judging without seeing it for myself. Whose to say it wouldn't be boring? Hell, with my darling girl there, surely we could get things heated up there? But Heaven... What rules would I have to abide to, what morals would I have to keep close to heart? Hell sounded much more inviting--do what you want, break all the rules, and party til Hell itself freezes over. It was the sort of place I would, normally, have perfered to be. And yet... I needed to see her again. Needed to tell her I was sorry, needed her to understand I did it all for that crazy word called love.
Its not enough memorizing the exact words in my head, or playing the scence out over in my mind--I needed to say this too her face, needed more then just something I had dreamed up in my head.
I needed to get to Heaven, and yet, here I was being driven by temptation.
Oh darling, there was no way I was a-getting in.

That same michevious smile lined her face, just enough to make my stomach twist.
"My phone is out of minutes, so it would take a while to call them, wouldn't it."
Bahh. She had me mistaken of course. She'd call her vikings on me, and I'd wait around til they showed up, I a-would. And for what? Just to let my eyes run up and down her body again, and savour every single moment I was letting slip away and the current moment. It was funny that, I was taking everything for granted. I was letting the moments slip by, letting the clock tick and tock, and refusing to do anything about it. I just kept still, eyes watching those cat eyes, listening to her steady breathing and comparing it to my husky and irrational breathing pattern.
"Now darling, you're overestimating me. It's an honour really, but I doubt I could make it ten yards without tripping over and seriously injuryng myself. Hell, ye don't even need your vikings to hurt me--I'll take care of that myself,"

"Maybe I should quit now and become a stand-up comedian. Would pay more than the vikings are bringing in."
Those bloody vikings. Hell, I still wasn't all that sure wether they were just a part of her imagination, or real-life bearded bastards. Like I've mentioned before, I didn't doubt her. If she told me she had visited the moon, I'd believe her. She was just that sort of girl you expected to do the impossible. And when she didn't, you were pretty upset. Bah.
And me? I don't think I was capable of anything, really. Not much of a self-confidence boost, I tell ye. Hell, being near her made me hit take a hit at my self-estime.
"Perhaps... So Simmy, how long are ye planning to stay in Frostylake? It's not that much of a great place, I'll admit. But ocassionally somebody worthwhile fliters through,"



[lyrics-dismantle repair, by anberlin]