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7eventh Vengeance

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new story? [Jan. 8th, 2006|09:50 pm]
7eventh Vengeance


[Feelin: |amusedfine]
[Listenin: |here's to the night - eve 6]

Do i have a new story? why yes - i do.

read it bitches...please?


Midnight Khemicyle


You're walking a thin line

Between breathing and dreaming

You're trying to hide

But you're kicking and screaming

The tape is sticking to sensitive skin

The rope is begging to cut in

And as the railroad spike nears your throat

You begin to wither and choke

I bet you wish you had a hit of coke

A shot of captains and a little sodomy

But open up wide its tracheotomy


            “Vie, come on!” Cieanyde yells through her door, banging his tattooed knuckles up against the thin wood. “Vie! We’re getting ready to go on stage! Vie!”

            Jerking the door open with a frustrated sigh, Vie pushes Cieanyde out of her way and stomps over to where her bass is hanging on a rack, neatly tuned.

            “Sorry,” he mumbles, moving behind her toward the stage where the rest of the band stands in place. Grasping her bass and tossing the strap over her shoulder she takes her place near the back in the shadows and licks her lips, pulling a lip ring into her mouth.

            Taking stance at the mic, Cieanyde grasps it in firm fists and gives a grin to the audience. “Hello Toronto!”

            Backing up a few steps as the song set in, Vie strums along, not missing a note in the beat but trying to make sure a crimson drop doesn’t fall from her sleeve. Heaving a sigh of relief that her bass is black as a drop smears against the side, and trying to concentrate on the music and not the sting in the cuts.

            A flash of the camera off the side of the stage sends her tripping backwards a few feet but catching her balance with a gruff string of curses under her breath. Cieanyde takes a look over his shoulder, giving her a worried glance. She shakes her head, shrugging it off, and glaring at the camera man in the corner.


            “Vie, is there something wrong?” Mr. Gracie asks a look of concern on his face but she shakes her head, twisting the material of her sleeves in her hands. “You can talk to me, you know that right?” He asks, laying his hands over her’s and staring intently into her features, trying to get some sort of reading.

            “Everything said with promised to be kept a secret?”

            “Confidential with a capital C, my dear,” he smiles, bringing her hand into his and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

            “I miss being with Cieanyde, I miss dating him and it hurts and I hate that we can’t now because people think we’re…” She trailed off.


            She nodded, leaning back in her seat, her hand slipping from his grip.

            “Well you’ve got money now sweetheart, take it and buy yourself a Cieanyde.”


            June 11th

                        It wasn’t always like this. We were so close, we were almost there – we had wedding plans in mind but hadn’t told anybody just yet and now – he’s my twin brother and I don’t know how this happened. We go in for a makeover and come out siblings. How sick is it that he wants to continue where we left off? It’s pretty much incest now is it not? We might not even be blood related but once we had to put this whole show on, pretend we were born from the same womb things got – disgusting, and I feel diseased to even want to be around him and ache for him as much as I do.

            I understand that we’re not really twins, I understand this was the record company’s ploy to rake in more cash – but I can’t be with him like that. If we publicly kissed do you know the chaos that it would cause? People think that we’re twins, they think we’re blood entwined, feature copied, twins. And thanks to that plastic surgeon – nobody would believe us if we tried to take back everything we’ve said.


            “You poor things, your father was abusive?” She asks, resting a hand on Cieanyde’s knee. He nods, silently asking me to go along with it. “That’s just horrible.” But I’m to busy being jealous about her touching my boyfriend….ex’s knee with a seductive smile on her face. And then this sick wave hits me and I’m slowly convincing myself of the fairy tale.

            The one Grim Records wrote where Prince Charming turns out to be my brother after a surgery and magazine published article of lies.


            And there is nothing I can do now to stop or change any of it. “Welcome to stardom, now rearrange your life and give up everything you’ve worked so hard to get. He probably never loved you anyway, but now you can love him – as a sister, a twin sister. You’ll see at the end of the week that paycheck will make it all worth it.” Well guess what – it doesn’t.


p.a.u.s.e.d: The reason why they made us the twins instead of arranging something between Fayliar, Mahoganie, or Daloreyen, is because Vie and Cie rhymed and they thought it was “cute”.


(a/n: the last p.a.u.s.e.d part isnt in Arial Narrow because it sucks and so does this authors note but you should comment and let me know what you think. I know you know whats going on and whats gonna happen for the most part Pyro, Dave i promise its not a story about incest if you read this)



[User Picture]From: v_ermillion
2006-01-09 02:55 am (UTC)

how you say it

Vie = vuh-eye but say it fast
Cieanyde = like the poison
Daloreyen = like the car
Fayliar = failier
Mahoganie = self explanitory
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: nucking_futs77
2006-01-09 03:01 am (UTC)
awh i remember sittin at your house while you planned this out
4 brothers...such a sad fuckin movie

but i like the way it started
damn corrupt mother fucking record companies
and i definitely like the names.

now i'm off to write more onto chapter 9
(Reply) (Thread)