Guilty Pleasures

::Schu is lounging on his Nexus couch, taking in some rays of whatever Nexus "sun" is out there. London has been ridiculously rainy even by London standards lately, so Schu is enjoying the warmth and light here.::

::Schu is in a green Speedo and sunglasses lying on a towel on one of his Nexus living room couches. Don't worry, he has sunscreen on.::

::Hey, the Nexus has more sunshine than London.::


((Open to visitors))

::Schuldig's chilling out on his couch. His living room set-up has expanded to include two bamboo room screens. He's wearing old blue jeans with holes in the knees and a gray MISKATONIC UNIVERSITY SWIM TEAM T-shirt. He's open to having company.::

::Schu's Nexus living room now has a coffee table and a different couch. He's wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but the healing bracelet killwithmymind gave him a while ago is still visible along with some bruises.::

Nagi asked a question, and, sure enough, here she shows up. I personally think Nii would make a great Daddy for Töt. They both love stuffed bunnies, and they're both disturbing as all hell. She loves scientists. Maybe their bunnies could get together and... shit, I'm squicking myself. Anyway, they're the match-up of win.

Ken-ken's still in the Nexus. So cute! For now I'm lurking and letting other people mess with him. He's just too easy.

Ichigo's color is deep pink. Chicka chicka bow wow!

I waaaaaant one: blood puddle pillows.

I can't believe some people are actually donating blood to this guy. Yeah, I went through the Rosenkreuz School of Hard Knocks, but this is common sense, people! Speaking of, this humor article from The Onion amused me: "Majority of Parents Abuse Children, Children Report." It's tragic! The vegetables, the bed and bath times, the denial of new toys! The unwanted physical contact of being... hugged in front of your friends. Ja? Try growing up in the wrong side of Berlin in pre-unification Germany like a lot of my personalities did.

Hide the liquor, the kittens are alkies! That's a cat macro waiting to happen. Also, a comment of great justice: "OMG! That's why Hemingway cats developed thumbs! TO POUR HIM DRINKS"



Yeah, anyway, you might notice that my couch is different now. That's because I bled on the last one. It was a rougher job than usual, I had to Portal myself here to my couch so I wouldn't splat from hitting the ground from falling from a great height, then from here I had to PINpoint myself to our doctor because my head had been knocked around so badly I couldn't accurately Portal any further.... We have a special deal with him so I don't have to sit in a waiting room and sit in the middle of people radiating sickness and pain. Getting rid of the chip in my head means I can have CT scans done for my head, which is great. (The bullet that's lodged in my back is much lower down. The small metal bits in me here and there don't appear to be a problem, thankfully.)

I love the way our doctor talks. I wouldn't have cared as much once, but now I love a Welsh accent due to the Welsh tea cutie on Torchwood. Our doctor can bitch me out for using a colored tie and headband to cover my bullet wounds any day. Call me "Richard" in those annoyed Welsh tones some more, doctor, 'cause you know I love it. (My pseud came from me being clever. My name sounds like "Shool-dick," after all.) I have some lingering headaches, but nothing's messed up inside my skull.

Brad was thrilled by the damage me and Farf did. Thrilled. At that point Farf said he wants to rejoin us permanently, so Brad said he'd start looking for an apartment that had three bedrooms. I told him not to bother, because I couldn't take living with Farf anymore, not with his electricity crawling along my skin all the time we're in a space together. (Yes, let's all do that Linkin Park song together: "These wounds, they will not heeeeeeeeeeal....") I told him I'll be looking for my own apartment. Brad flipped his lid. Loudly and vehemently and with some punches and a lot of wrist grabbing. I retaliated, going from his American English to the local English when I really started to lose it and wallop back. I started out saying I was going to get my ass out and into a new apartment and ended with me saying I would have a new flat and I would kick his fucking arse. We surprised Farf, who never saw me and Brad white trash fight like this when he'd been with the team. I hadn't had as much say back then. He put himself bodily between us to stop it. Farf said he'd be willing to find his own place, but Brad doesn't want him moving out either. Yeah, Brad, we make great pets.

You should have seen the look on Brad's face when I announced that I was moving out on my own. Priceless. He hasn't looked out for my interests in too long, and the only time we ever have any sex or "give Schu some quiet stillness" time is when I get Farf out of the house and make it happen, so screw him.

I packed up my stuff and put it in storage. Locked doors are something Schwarz doesn't really doesn't respect because we all easily pick locks, and Brad can be a vengeful bitch, so why take a chance? When in London, I'm crashing with some activist friends while I look for a flat to call my own. I'm not going to my Nagi to live with because Brad would think that meant something I don't intend it to, and besides, Nagi recently thought it was so cute that Shudibi-chan has learned some light HTML and about cat macros.

I wonder how well Brad will handle wrangling Farf by himself. I've always wrangled everyone: making sure Farf didn't kill too many people we weren't being paid to kill, making sure Nagi was eating and wasn't staying up too late cybering....

I'll miss things, like watching Heroes downloads with Brad and Farf. We're all rooting for Sylar, who looks much better to me dressed as Zane, but Brad also has this thing for Adrian Pasdar. Yeah, Pasdar's hot, but Brad may be the only guy who thinks Pasdar was the best thing about Near Dark instead of the Aliens reunion team. C'mon, Lance Henriksen, Bill Paxton, and Jenette Goldstein as fun-loving psycho killers! Brad complains that they were reckless and undisciplined. Whatever. They died stupidly, but they were cool until then.

So I have my own back. It's me against 99.8% of the world. Reminding myself that no one is a special snowflake rings kind of hollow. But maybe if I don't have Farf's electricity rubbing my nerves raw all the time I won't be as hair-trigger angry as much.

Why did I forget that people suck so badly? Is this what happens when I keep my shields up more often?

::Schuldig Portals away, then comes back for a rest on his couch and to write notes. After a while, he does the same thing again. And again.::

::If you looked at the paper you'd see that his handwriting varies quite a bit. Some of the things written include:

Cerulean Portal: Rather infamous me already there. Not a good idea.

Vinegar Portal: World of shrimp! Too fucking weird. Plus, everything's underwater.

Leafy Summer Portal: Maybe.

Blood Portal: Talents enslaved there. No fucking way.::

::Sometimes he sits, shaking, for a while with his knees up to his chest and his face resting on them.::

::Lounging on his favorite Nexus couch, Schu's dressed in a loose white linen shirt and pants and has his bare feet lightly resting on the dozing Fluffy's back. With a tiger's sleepy purring humming through his toes, he's drowsy and feeling warm and lazy.::

I was in such a crap mood for a while, but everything's much better now. Sometimes I just need a mental realignment. Basking in the sun for a while helps too.

::There's a comfy couch out in the middle of the Nexus, and Schuldig's sitting there smoking on it. A mysterious couch in the middle of nowhere is so him he has to use it.::

::He's looking inward, not outward, and stubbing out his finished cigarettes in the big mouth of the goofy frog ashtray he has perched on one couch arm. If he's smoking, there are generally three possibilities:
1] He's with a smoker.
2] He's annoying a non-smoker.
3] He's stressed.

There's nobody sitting with him.::