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Title: The Singer
Rating: PG... possibly. No warnings, 'cept maybe alcohol.

The Singer (with lyrics from 'I Remember') )
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Title: Natural Takeover
Rating: PG
Summary: The earth has gone through some changes. A man that's been roused from a cryogenic sleep must learn to accept the differences.

Story )
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I started writing this in government. It's probably where I got the horror vibe from. Anyway... I don't know what's up with the horror thing that I get with it. Taken at face value, it should just be a few loving moments between a mother and her son, but... :shakes head: At least that's how it'd started out to be. Now I've twisted into something that makes me think Stephen King.

Title: Love
Rating: 13 maybe. Depends on how you read it.
Genre: Dark, horror?
Warnings: Incestual hintings.

Love )

:shivers: Creepy ending... I shouldn't leave it there.
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Title: Tonic
Rating: PG for dark undertones

It would be for the best, she decided as she lowered the flame beneath the cauldron. She would do what needed to be done before anyone else. While the others sat around and talked about necessity and plans, she would actually carry it out. She never was one for idle chatting anyway.

The ingredients were set out across the table. Crushed herbs. The thin bones of an animal would be the stirring stick. A fat bottle of something green and smelly -- she hadn't bothered asking the old man what it had been exactly, but it matched the description well enough... She didn't want to know what Desdemona's Charm was anyway.

While she waited for the potion to finish its hour of simmering, she went quietly into the kitchen. She'd left the cake to warm in the oven while she conjured and tested it's warmth by holding her hand above the chocolate surface. Satisfied, she brought out the icing from the fridge to warm it up a little -- she always favored icing when it was slightly melted -- and stuck a box of left overs in the microwave for lunch.

Her eye caught sight of the invitation on the fridge, held by a Loony Toon's magnet to the textured door. The good mood that had taken over during her potion making vanished and the steadfast determination that had driven her in the first place roared in anger. Lunch forgotten, she strode back into the laboratory.

The potion could be made ten times stronger if she added one last ingredient. Cautious, she grabbed a small step stool and set it next to her bookcase full of bottles. The small vial was on the very top shelf and idly, she wondered why she even put things up there because it was such a trouble when she needed something from there. She cursed the part of her DNA that made her short. Her fingers clasped around the vial and she uncorked it with a soft pop. Her hand paused above the cauldron.

Did she want to wait? This ingredient was expensive. And hard to get when one decided to find it alone. Was it worth it?

A voice whispered in her ear: Yes.

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Christina

June 2009

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