Melodi laid her head on the coffee table, sighing heavily for the third time since she had sat down. Grayson was stretched out on the couch just out of reach, reading a book; at the sigh he laid the book on his chest to keep his place, and raised a brow as he watched her silently for a moment. She was dressed in a soft pastel pink cami, the thin straps falling off her shoulders as she turned her head to look out the window on the left side of the room. “This shouldn’t be this hard.” She complained flatly. “I’m a singer…writing songs should be as natural as breathing…” “That’s not always right.” Grayson rolled his cool grey eyes to the ceiling before looking back at her. Her long obsidian hair was pulled back halfway to keep long strands from her face but her bangs where left to lay against her freshly washed face. “Some singers pay others to write their songs.” “Giovanni wants three new numbers to go with the music he had composed but…I just..” Melodi lifted her head from the glass table and stared down hatefully at the pink notebook she had been scribbling in prior to the sighing. “I…can’t….words right now.” She placed her hands on either side of her head and propped up on the table by her elbows. “When does he want it?” Grayson asked as he sat up, placing a bookmark in between the pages and closing his thick book. “Wait, you're supposed to be taking a break for a while.” He pointed the book at her, “This is like a mini-vacation, you're not supposed to be working.” “I just feel like I really need to be doing this.” Melodi sighed and picked up her pencil, tapping it against the cream colored page of the notebook before scribbling out whatever words she had written before. “AUGH!” “Oh for shit's sake,” Grayson swung his feet to the plush carpet and walked over to the table. At a quick glance, he could see the page was filled with nothing but scribbles, whatever words of love or scorn she had thought of before had been abandoned. “Give me that.” He slapped the notebook closed before scooping it up in his hand and walking away toward the bookshelf. “Hey!” Melodi jumped to her feet and ran up behind him just in time to jump and miss his hand as he placed the notebook on top of the bookshelf high above her head. “Don’t let me catch you climbing it.” Grayson reached over and flicked her nose with his fingers. “I won’t need to,” She turned and reached low to the ground and froze, “Where’s my step stool?” When she turned her sea colored eyes on him with an accusatory glare, she watched as he glanced at the top of the bookshelf. There on the corner was all the evidence that she needed to see what he did. “You put it up there too! Get it down!” “No.” Grayson began studying the books on the shelf, his hard brow knitting together in concentration as Melodi pushed on his arm. “Gray! I need that, get it down!” “I said. No.” He grabbed a book from the shelf and tapped it against her head with a soft thump. “Here.” He put the book on top of her head and walked away, forcing her to grab it to avoid dropping it. “What is it?” She snapped, turning it over and reading the title. “A book. Read it.” Grayson started to reclaim his place on the couch when Melodi scoffed and gave him an irritated look. “What?” “I need to work Grayson, please.” She gestured to the bookshelf, “Get my stuff down. Don’t make me climb it.” “Climb it and I’ll hide them somewhere else.” Grayson threatened with a cold look. “Look, you're burnt out. You need a break. There’s no shame in it. Leave the notebook where it is and read a book, just one book. And we’ll see if you get any bites after.” When she didn’t move or change her expression he rubbed his face with his free hand and tossed his book to the couch. “Hang on, wait here and for the love of Pete don’t climb the bookshelf.” Grayson pointed at her as he walked toward the door, disappearing and reappearing with a playful glare to make sure she hadn’t tried to sneak away. When he left and stayed in the other room, Melodi walked to the couch and sank down on the edge of the seat, reading the title. It was a contemporary romance, something that someone had gifted her for one of her shows that she had never bothered to pick up and read. She had just finished reading the blurb on the back when Grayson came back with two glasses. One was filled halfway with water and the other was empty. He handed her the half full glass and kept the empty one. “Hey, can you share some of that?” He gestured to her glass and held out his. She cocked a brow at him and didn’t move. “Humor me.” He watched as she began pouring some of the water into the glass and used his free hand to tip her hand until the water had been transferred fully. “Top it off.” “I can’t, it’s empty?” She gave him a confused look, tilting the glass upside down over his and letting the last few drops dribble into the glass. “Exactly.” “Exactly what?” “Like you. You've tapped out Mel. My Nana used to say ‘you can’t give from an empty glass’. It was a reminder for self-care.” He took the empty glass from her and turned, placing them both on the coffee table. “When you’re out, you’re out. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just your way of knowing you need to relax a bit. Take a break, read a book, a nice nap, binge a series or something.” He shrugged before picking his book back up and flopping down on the empty seat beside her. “You gotta recharge every now and then.” As he turned in the seat he was surprised to see that Melodi adjusted herself, so she laid between his legs, her own laying across him. He watched with the hint of a smile as she opened the book to the first page and began to read, settling in against his legs comfortably. As Grayson started to open his book he heard her say. “Gray?” “Hm?” “Could you pour me half of that water?” “Sure.” He reached out and pulled the coffee table closer to the couch, pouring most of the water into the empty glass and handing it to her. Her eyes never stopped scanning the page as she took it and drank. Grayson shook his head as he settled back into the armrest opening his own book back to his page and began to read.

Lady Luck: First Draft

“You probably won’t be able to leave the tower,” Zavala’s voice was hard and firm, but sympathetic. He wanted her to understand, but he knew it was hard news to take. Ikora was sitting on the edge of Diana’s bed, their latest book of study open to their last page. Diana looked to her for help, but the Warlock looked down into the yellowed pages before closing her eyes. Then the mute guardian looked to Cayde by the door, he seemed just as stunned as she.

“Is there something we can do?” The exo asked, pushing away from the door and stepping further inside the room, “Maybe some tech the cryptarchs…”

“No,” Ikora shook her head, “If it were meant to be…the travelers light would have healed her the way it did us when it decided to rebirth us as guardians…” She looked up to Diana, a soft—motherly smile on her lips. “Perhaps you could work as a cryptarch, or study as a Warlock to help out here in the tower.”

Fury flooded Diana, twisting and darkening her face as she began shaking her head slowly, then violently. She began lashing out against her limp legs in the bed, punching them repeatedly before Ikora stopped her.

“T-t-t-the tablet!” Cayde stuttered in desperation, shocked and worried at the outburst of anger from the new guardian. He was pointing to the glowing piece of tech by her bed. “Use the tablet!” Diana grabbed it, yanking her hands-free from Ikora’s grip as the woman sat back down in her place. Diana stabbed violently at the screen with her fingers, but a shaking hand caused her to lock the screen and only made her angrier, she nearly threw it across the room before she thought better of it and put it on her legs. She began using her hands, her mouth moving but no sound escaping as she tried desperately to communicate.

“Ikora, fix the tablet.” Zavala offered when Diana looked to her ghost and waved her hands.

“She says,” Her ghosts light voice halted as Diana began making movements with her arms. “You know that’s not how sign language works.” Diana’s face hardened before she went back to making the same sign again but in quick, angry bursts, making her ghost sigh. “She says,” Diana made an angry, disgusted face and gestured to her legs, smacking one before pointing to the floor. “She wants to walk again,” Diana rolled her hands over one another earnestly, “To run.” The Guardian in the bed nodded, pointing to her eyes, “To see,” Then she pointed out her window, to the mountains in the distance, “The outside.”

Diana made a gesture with her hands, a wall, then her fingers walking. “She wants to go outside the walls.” Diana nodded, then pointed to the vanguard members before gesturing to her ears, then to the book in Ikora’s hands, before finally holding up her arms in an ‘x’ shape. “She doesn’t want to hear about others tales, she wants to make her own.” This made Cayde look to Zavala who looked like he had something to say, but Diana’s ghost cut him off.

“She says,” Diana grabbed for the book in Ikora’s hand and pretended to read it, before shaking her head at her ghost. Slapping her right elbow with her left hand before making her hands appear to be claws, a look of rage on her face as she glared down at the picture of a fallen kell in her lap. “She doesn’t want to read about the enemy, she wants to fight.”

“But in the state your in,” Ikora began but Diana’s posture wilted, her energy sapped just from that burst of excitement. “We’ve upset you,” Ikora watched as tears streamed down Diana’s thin cheeks, free falling to her lap where her ghost flew to and nestled lovingly like a pet. “I am so sorry Diana…” After a moment, tears still flowing, Diana reached for the tablet by Ikora and opened it slowly. Her anger faded, she was able to work it more smoothly. She tapped out a short message and showed it to all three vanguard members.

Whatever you have to do. Do it. I HAVE TO FIGHT.

Beauty and the Thief

Okay, so, for a LONG TIME I’ve had this idea in my head (I’m talking a decade here people) and while working today I saw the scene that is my favorite clearer, and brighter than ever and had to write it down. So I thought I’d share this rough draft before it gets tore apart and changes again.

~*~ 

"Have you ever wished you could watch someone get their ass kicked?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, a thoughtful look on his face. "Not to do the actual assault yourself but...perhaps you'd pay someone to let you watch as they did it?"

"You're a beast." She snapped irritably, getting up from her seat beside him and heading toward her room.

"And you're a beauty!" he called after her, "We make a fantastic love story, don't we?" There was humor in his tone and it made her stop with her hand on the knob.

"Did you just..." She turned and narrowed her eyes at him. "Reference this..." She waved the book in her hand back and forth between them, "As Beauty and the Beast?"

"Love that story." The boy smiled, unphased by her perplexed and cynical scoff.

"That is by far, the creepiest and cheesiest thing I've ever heard." She snapped, crossing her arms, tucking the book under one of her arms. The boy shrugged as much as he could with his hands bound to the chair.

"We all have our moments where things," He sighed heavily as if disappointed, "Don't come out as planned." He looked away over his shoulder and muttered, "It sounded better in my head."

"Moment?" She questioned, raising a brow at him as he nodded. "This 'moment' of yours," She raised her hands and made air quotations as she turned away from him. "Seems to be taking its time."

"As long as you stay!"

He called after her as she opened the door and stepped through to her room. "I pray it is everlasting!" She slammed the door and left him alone. The shaggy-haired cat in the windowsill mewed at him, "That was really cheesy wasn't it?" The cat rolled onto its back and lifted its paws into the air. "Yeah."  

Diner Dash

Justin placed the two heaping plates of food in front of the girls and sat down, watching as the elder sister glared at him without so much as blinking, while the younger took in a deep, needy breath to savor the smells of the breakfast plate. They hadn’t looked like they’d seen a bed in some time, their hair was brushed through by fingers as best they could rather than combs, and their clothes hung limply on them as if they were several days worn. Small stains and wrinkles catching his eye as he slid the plates closer and held out a set of silverware for each child.

“Go on then,” He smiled gently, “On the house, get your fill.”

“No thank you.” The elder girl growled around her teeth, stopping the younger by her wrist as she tried to reach for the wrapped silverware. Justin gave her a sad look as his heart broke in half, the younger girl putting her hands under her legs to keep herself from making the same tempting mistake twice. “Help from people comes with a price, one I don’t want to pay.” She pulled out a wad of crumpled dollars and smoothed it out on the table. “I can pay for a little. Just some water and toast..” She looked as the younger girl whined softly, looking at the fried eggs on the plate in front of her. “And one egg.”

“Nonsense,” Justin said firmly, putting the silverware down in front of them and putting his elbows on the table. “I can’t let two youngins come in, half starved, and take their last few dollars. Ain’t happening.” He stressed his refusal as the older girl opened her mouth. “You two eat, get your bellies full. I mean it when I say its on the house. Know what its like to go hungry, it sucks.” He turned in the booth when he heard a hiss of ‘bullsh—,' “Whoa!” Justin exclaimed, giving her a shocked stare, “You kiss your caretaker with that mouth?”

“Its your mother.” A male voice laughed, Justin and the sisters looked up to see a young man with brown curly locks leaning on the bar, a dishtowel over his shoulder. “The saying. It’s ‘do you kiss your mother with that mouth?’.” Justin sat back and gave the boy a disapproving stare.

“Not all people have a mother, Todd, you hotdog!” This caused Todd’s smile to vanish and the younger girl to snicker. He could hear her mumble under her breath ‘hotdog’ just before bursting into resistant giggles. “Besides, you got time to lean on my counter, you got time to scrub the bathrooms!”

“Oh come on!” Todd whined as he stood quickly, realizing to late his error in judgment, but Justin just gave a whistle and twirled his hand before pointing to the bathrooms across the diner. He didn’t look at him until Todd groaned and made his way slowly to the bathrooms, grabbing a bucket of cleaning supplies from under the counter as he went.

“Now,” Justin smiled, standing up from the booth and putting his hands in his pockets. “You two enjoy your breakfast huh?” He adjusted the fit of his hat and gave a wink, “When you're done we can talk about your situation.” As if he was psychic he held up his hand to stop the older girls protests, “Please, can tell ya’ll are in need a some help.” He put his hands in his back pockets and smiled warmly as the younger sibling needed no other prompting, grabbing handfuls of bacon and toast and shoving her mouth full to chew almost angrily. “Whether or not you wanna go home, need a place to stay, or even if its just a phone call to someone you know. I can’t sleep tonight knowing you two are out there without a safe space to stay. Eat, and we can talk later.” He saw the wariness in the elder girls eyes, “No strings attached.”

“Bull—”

“AH!” Justin waved a finger at her, his brow knitting before he tapped his own lips with the finger and gave her an imploring look.

“Nothing in the world comes free, you want something from us.” The girl snapped, “You think you’ll get some reward for sending us on our way.” Justin tilted his head back as his listened, pursing his lips but letting her speak. “There is no reward for us, you’d be wasting your time. Come on Claire.” The girl shoved the money to the other side of the table as Claire grabbed part of the waffle on her plate, filling her mouth full with as much as she could and stuffing her pockets with toast and bacon before Justin could stop them.

“Now that’s an awful assumption to make of me,” Justin protested, waving his hands so Claire would stop trying to scoop eggs into her mouth with her hand. “I mean it now. I can point you in the direction of the women's shelter or the homeless; whichever has room. I can let you use my phone, so you can call someone you know to find a place to stay,” He gestured to them both and gave them an uneasy once over, “You both look like you’ve seen better days. This hasn’t been some treck through the woods, ya’ll been sleeping wherever you can. You need a place to go. Beds to sleep in. Food to eat.” He glanced at Claire again who was swallowing her mouthful and looking up at her sister earnestly, waiting for a decision to be made.

“Miranda?” Claire asked, watching as her older sister blinked back angry tears and opened her mouth to start snapping at Justin when he spoke over her.

“And if you truly don’t think that anything in the world is free, and you won’t take it any other way; we can see about you washing your dishes as payment for the food huh?” He nodded his head lazily to the bathrooms, “Todd’s gonna be busy for a while, he’s a little slow with the domestic chores around here, so I’ll need some help filling in his spots until Bridget comes in. Wipe the tables, wash the dishes, say hi to anyone who comes in and take their order… If that would be acceptable?” He shrugged, acting as if he didn’t care but watched the girls shoulders sag slightly before she looked down at the plate, her stomach growling.

“We can do that,” Claire whispered excitedly to Miranda who looked like she could break down and cry, “Manda, the foods really good. He seems nice.” Seeing Claire tug on Miranda’s dirty oversized coat pulled on Justin’s heartstrings, and when she turned her big brown eyes on him, he couldn’t resist the big smile that Bridget often called goofy.

“You can absolutely do it,” Justin agreed, “Eat.” He waved to the booth as he turned his back to them and walked to the bar, “Get your bellies full—as many plates as you want. When your good and full, we can get you washed up back here in the back. I have a few extra shirts and aprons back here you can wear while I wash yours in the washer. Then while we work, we can talk about what the next step is. Go on and eat now before it gets cold!” Before Miranda could stop and argue again, Justin quickly made his way to the swinging door that lead into the kitchen. He stood in front of the table he used as prep and felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him, making him lean down and peek through the cut-away wall. He could see Miranda as she swapped places in the booth, so Claire was on one side, and she was on the other, both eating heartily and laughing at one another as they made themselves messier.

With a sigh of relief, Justin stood back up and adjusted his hat before tapping out a small beat with his fingers and began gathering ingredients to make a fresh batch of waffle batter—from the way the girls were putting them away, he was going to need more.

this is why i made snippets and scenelets. Doesnt fit with anything, but i have it on paper if I need it later

Why Am I Like This...

I’m sitting at my computer, have 3 stories I need to make updates to, some already started, yet all I can do when I look at them is hear the high pitched fin scream in my head.