#walking up to marco with a print out of his panel and saying he should have been truer to foggy's character. he shouldn't be flat assed

[froggynelson]

his ass thickness is canonically addressed by the way, it's a part of who he is.

[dashuisofanubis]

Another ghost AU

Okay the premise for this one is sort of a what if they figured out Nina was the chosen one and performed the ritual, but its also an AU.

KT, Eddie and Willow move into a boarding house for the prestigious Ankh school. They notice there are a lot of awards and items in the school dedicated to a group of students.

It turns out that on the 7th of July, around 50 years ago, these 7 students were discovered dead. The cause was believed to be poisoning as the students were all from the same house and the two surviving students admitted to having skipped meals at the house that day. The house mother was arrested and sentenced for murder, despite rumours that she was innocent.

The truth of the tale is different:

An ancient Egyptian artefact was believed to have power beyond scientific knowledge, and, once assembled, was said to grant immortality. However, nature must maintain a balance, and for every life extended, another has to be cut short.

Despite all their research, the Secret Society were not aware of these consequences, or most likely were at some level but chose to ignore it. So, when the ritual took place and life was transferred, they had what they wanted, but at a cost.

The Immortals:

Victor Rodenmaar. Location unknown. Has been off the grid for 25 years after vanishing one night in the middle of the school year

Daphne Andrews. Still a teacher at Ankh. Taught many student's parents and has said she will retire next year for the past 20 years

Eric Sweet. Eddie's father, and a man he's always admired and looked up to. He's not what he seems, and is a lot older than Eddie believed.

Mercer, father to one of the lost students. Has realised immortality is not all it's cracked up to be. Having lost his wife 10 years ago, he lives a lonely life and regrets ever joining the society and offering up his daughter.

Jason Winkler. Joined due to degenerative illness, hoping this would be a cure. It was, and he lives a mostly happy life, when he can forget what part he played in the tragedy.

Doctor Delia. Now the CEO of the local hospital, she's experimented with her immortality, to see if there is a way to transfer part of her life to a patient. It took a lot of work, but 11 years ago, she finally had some success. 14 year old Sophia was fatally injured in a car crash, and Dr Delia used her blood in a transfusion, saving the girl.

Rufus Zeno is the final immortal. It was supposed to be Roebuck, but Rufus broke in and threatened the Chosen One, unless he got what he wanted. Wanting to save the girl, and being the only one who hadn't drunk from the cup, Roebuck sacrificed his chance.

(Had he known the girl would die anyway, it might have been different)

Rufus is out there, somewhere, and he's dangerous.

Back to the story:

(Idk what the plot really is but here goes)

The trio (Eddie, KT and Willow) discover the students used to live in Anubis House.

One night, they're playing truth or dare with their housemates: Stella, Marco, Anna, Raf and Peter. KT is dared to go down into the cellar, where she finds a secret panel. Behind it, she finds 7 balancing scales, an intricately decorated cup, and an empty bottle.

The scales have discs with names written on them. The names match those of the 7 students who died. However, the discs are only on one side of the scales, suggesting there were 7 more previously. KT takes the bottle to prove she went into the basement, and something compels her to take the discs as well, which she shows to Willow once they're back in their room.

They let Eddie know about it the next morning and the 3 begin to wonder if the students' deaths were really as they seemed.

Eddie is walking up the stairs when he trips on a loose floorboard. Annoyed, he goes to try and put it back into place when something catches his eye. It's a metal disc, tarnished with age. He cleans it up and sees the word Zeno printed on it.

He tells KT and Willow, and KT realises it must be from the scales she found. Something doesn't feel right, so they decide to investigate.

Eddie jokingly suggests they hold a seance, and despite Willows warnings, they do.

It doesn't seem to work.

The next day, Willow discovers an intruder in the house, someone who looks very similar to photos in the school...

Willow is unnerved but curious, so she says hey to them. They turn around, apparently spooked that someone can see them, and vanish.

Willow tells the others, who initially disbelieve her, but soon they come to meet the former residents of their boarding house.

The ghosts were obviously affected by their own deaths, and the fact that they're ghosts, but it's been 50 years now, so they're getting over it. They generally try to stay out of the students' ways, as they learnt that people generally freak out at the sight of ghosts.

They appeared as ghosts the same moment their lives transferred to the immortals, but were extremely weak and found it hard to keep themselves together. They were unable to dissipate completely though, something was keeping them there. They had to watch as Trudy was arrested; as their house was put out of action till an increase in students forced them to open it again 15 years later; as Victor still wandered the halls; as all the students came and grew and left while they were trapped in the house.

Unable to die, but unable to live.

Slowly, they began to gain more power, and for the past 10 years they've been able to hold a corporeal form for lengthening times, meaning they can actually do things and go places. They're capable of leaving the house for short distances and periods of time, though if they're out for too long they fade away and reappear back in the house with a killer headache.

They think (hope) this means the immortals are weakening, but it could just be they're getting used to the whole being dead thing.

Their lives were tied to the balancing scales and the person on the opposite side, so they each have some connection to an immortal

This means they get fleeting impressions/feelings from their immortal, which strengthens with their proximity.

Connected Immortal and Ghost:

Rodenmaar - Nina

Sweet - Fabian

Andrews - Amber

Delia - Alfie

Roebuck/Zeno - Jerome

Mercer - Joy

Winkler - Patricia

Amber gets the most impressions because Ms Andrews still teaches at the school

Nina and Jerome receive hardly any because both Zeno and Rodenmaar are unknowns

However, recently they've started getting fleeting emotions and visuals that aren't their own. The two missing immortals are becoming active and they're heading for the house.

The ghosts can't do much on their own so Eddie, KT and Willow have to be prepared to discover what these two immortals want and put a stop to it.

Eddie finds out that his dad was once Eric Sweet (he chose a different name after leaving the school, to distance himself), the former headmaster of the school and is horrified by the part he played in all this. A confrontation goes down.

There's a bit where they track down Mick and Mara, now in their 60s, and bring them back to Anubis House to reunite with their former housemates. It would be a really emotional scene because while most of them weren't close, you can't live in close quarters with people for a long time, without forming a bond. And when it ended so abruptly with no goodbyes...well.

They also track down the other immortals and bring them to the house to face their ghosts (literally). Ms Andrews regrets it immensely; Delia has no (some) regrets, but argues she's able to save many more lives this way, Jason is in denial.

Don't imagine immortal!Mercer finally seeing his daughter again, only she's a ghost and he caused her death. He's full of apologies, but they're all based around how he missed her, not how he cut her life short.

There would be a lot of regret and grief all round, and anger on the ghosts' part.

While Trudy probably wouldn't be alive after all this time, the trio and the ghosts want the immortals to clear her name.

Zeno and Rodenmaar arrive at the house. They're both searching for an ancient artefact hidden in the house.

(Is it the mask? Is it the Book of Isis? Robert Frobisher Smythe? Who knows? Not me.)

They also want to try and end the other because, why not. Grudges can last forever.

The trio also meet Sophia at some point, who is undergoing weird transitions as a result of the blood transfusion. Her body is fighting it while also trying to embrace it, and it causes her to randomly absorb life/energy from plants or other people. She can also transfer energy to other beings, but this causes her to collapse. She also still looks 14 when she should be in her 20s by now. The trio befriend her and try to figure out a cure.

While their existences are tainted with regret and bitterness, the ghosts still make their own fun. Sometimes they'll pull pranks on unsuspecting students, or just sit in the back of the class room to listen to the lessons like they're students again. They know for a fact Ms Andrews hasn't changed her curriculum in 50 years and can now recite her lessons by heart. They also like to play games in the house like tag or hide and seek, and they will admit its more fun when you can phase through walls.

When they reveal themselves to the trio, they enjoy tormenting them, but also help them with their games nights, charading the answers behind the other 5s backs. Everyone's had near misses with the 5, but somehow they remain oblivious to the SEVEN GHOSTS living in their house. But then again everyone else is oblivous to the fact the 5 are on some Arthurian quest.

I don't know how this story would end, but the best outcome is that they fight Zeno and Rodenmaar, and some truth comes out that Rodenmaar has discovered a way to reverse what was done and needs an artefact from the tunnels to conduct the ritual. Zeno, meanwhile has discovered another ritual that would give him the power from the other immortals to essentially make himself a god.

Naturally, both are trying to stop the other from achieving their goals.

Initially, KT, Eddie, Willow and the ghosts (and Sophia) attempt to stop both parties, but when they discover Victor's plan they work to take down Zeno. Once he's subdued (taken down by Sophia draining his energy), they summon the other 5 immortals.

Some of them take some convincing, but others are all too ready to give up this immortal life. They get time to tie off loose ends. Ms. Andrews hands in her resignation, Delia entrusts someone (Sophia?) with her work, Mercer has a long talk with his daughter, Eric has an even longer talk with his son. Victor spends his time in Anubis House, telling the kids his story and apologising for taking so long to fix his mistake.

Eventually, the ritual takes place, and the next day sees 7 new students enrolled who look uncannily like the students in the pictures.

(It takes them a while to adjust to the fact they can't walk through walls anymore)

[empoweredbythehumanerror]

Ch. “Girls” American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

My appearances in the office the last month or so have been sporadic to say the least. All I seem to want to do now is work out, lifting weights, mostly, and secure reservations at new restaurants I’ve already been to, then cancel them. My apartment reeks of rotten fruit, though actually the smell is caused by what I scooped out of Christie’s head and poured into a Marco glass bowl that sits on a counter near the entranceway. The head itself lies covered with brain pulp, hollow and eyeless, in the corner of the living room beneath the piano and I plan to use it as a jack-o’-lantern on Halloween. Because of the stench I decide to use Paul Owen’s apartment for a little tryst I have planned for tonight. I’ve had the premises scanned for surveillance devices; disappointingly, there were none. Someone I talk to through my lawyer tells me that Donald Kimball, the private investigator, has heard that Owen really is in London, that someone spotted him twice in the lobby of Claridge’s, once each at a tailor on Savile Row and at a trendy new restaurant in Chelsea. Kimball flew over two nights ago, which means no one is keeping watch over the apartment anymore, and the keys I stole from Owen still function so I was able to bring the tools (a power drill, a bottle of acid, the nail gun, knives, a Bic lighter) over there after lunch. I hire two escort girls from a reputable if somewhat sleazy private establishment I’ve never used before, charging them on Owen’s gold American Express card which, I suppose because everyone thinks Owen is now in London, no one has put a trace on, though there is one on his platinum AmEx. The Patty Winters Show today was—ironically, I thought—about Princess Di’s beauty tips.

Midnight. The conversation I have with the two girls, both very young, blond hardbodies with big tits, is brief, since I’m having a difficult time containing my disordered self.

“You live in a palace, mister,” one of the girls, Torri, says in a baby’s voice, awed by Owen’s ridiculous-looking condo. “It’s a real palace.”

Annoyed, I shoot her a glance. “It’s not that nice.”

While making drinks from Owen’s well-stocked bar, I mention to both of them that I work on Wall Street, at Pierce & Pierce. Neither seems particularly interested. Again, I find myself hearing a voice—one of theirs—asking if that’s a shoe store. Tiffany flips through an issue of GQ that’s three months old, sitting on the black leather couch beneath the strip of faux-cowhide paneling, and she’s looking confused, like she doesn’t understand something, anything. I’m thinking, Pray, you bitch, just pray, and then I have to admit to myself what a turn-on it is encouraging these girls to debase themselves in front of me for what amounts to pocket change. I also mention, after pouring them another drink, that I went to Harvard, and then I ask, after a pause, “Ever hear of it?”

I’m shocked when Torri answers, “I had a business acquaintance who said he went there.” She shrugs dumbly.

“A client?” I ask, interested.

“Well,” she starts nervously. “Let’s just say a business acquaintance.”

“Was this a pimp?” I ask—then the weird part happens.

“Well”—she stalls again before continuing—“let’s just call him a business acquaintance.” She sips from her glass. “He said he went to Harvard, but… I didn’t believe him.” She looks over at Tiffany, then back at me. Our mutual silence encourages her to keep talking and she continues haltingly. “He had, like, this monkey. And I would have to watch this monkey in… his apartment.” She stops, starts, continues in monotone, occasionally gulping. “I’d want to watch TV all day, ‘cause there was nothing else to do while the guy was out… and while I tried to keep an eye on the monkey. But there was… something wrong with this monkey.” She stops and takes a deep breath. “The monkey would only watch…” Again she stops, takes in the room, a quizzical expression creasing her face as if she’s not sure she should be telling us this story; if we, me and the other bitch, should be privy to this information. And I brace myself for something shocking, something revelatory, a connection. “It would only watch…” She sighs, then in a sudden rush admits, “The Opnah Winfrey Show and that’s all it would watch. The guy had tapes and tapes of it and he had made all of them for this monkey”—now she looks over at me, imploringly, as if she’s losing her mind here, right now, in Owen’s apartment and wants me to, what, verify it?—“with the commercials edited out. One time I tried to… turn the channel, turn one of the tapes off… if I wanted to watch a soap instead or something… but”—she finishes her drink and rolling her eyes, obviously upset by this story, continues bravely—“the monkey would s-s-screech at me and it would only calm down when Oprah was on.” She swallows, clears her throat, looks like she’s going to cry but doesn’t. “And you know, you try to turn the channel and that d-damn monkey would try to scratch you,” she concludes bitterly and hugs herself, shivering, uselessly trying to warm herself.

Silence. Arctic, frigid, utter silence. The light burning over us in the apartment is cold and electric. Standing there, I look at Torri then at the other girl, Tiffany, who looks queasy.

I finally say something, stumbling over my own words. “I don’t care… whether you’ve led a… decent life… or not.”

Sex happens—a hard-core montage. After I shave Torri’s pussy she lies on her back on Paul’s futon and spreads her legs while I finger her and suck it off, sometimes licking her asshole. Then Tiffany sucks my cock—her tongue is hot and wet and she keeps flicking it over the head, irritating me—while I call her a nasty whore, a bitch. Fucking one of them with a condom while the other sucks my balls, lapping at them, I stare at the Angelic silk-screen print hanging over the bed and I’m thinking about pools of blood, geysers of the stuff. Sometimes it’s very quiet in the room except for the wet sounds my cock makes slipping in and out of one of the girls’ vaginas. Tiffany and I take turns eating Torri’s hairless cunt and asshole. The two of them come, yelling simultaneously, in a sixty-nine position. Once their cunts are wet enough I bring out a dildo and let the two of them play with it. Torri spreads her legs and fingers her own slit while Tiffany fucks her with the huge, greased dildo, Torri urging Tiffany to fuck her cunt harder with it, until finally, gasping, she comes.

Again I make the two of them eat each other out but it starts failing to turn me on—all I can think about is blood and what their blood will look like and though Torri knows what to do, how to eat pussy, it doesn’t subdue me and I push her away from Tiffany’s cunt and start licking and biting at the pink, soft, wet cuntness while Torri spreads her ass and sits on Tiffany’s face while fingering her own slit. Tiffany hungrily tongues her pussy, wet and glistening, and Torri reaches down and squeezes Tiffany’s big, firm tits. I’m biting hard, gnawing at Tiffany’s cunt, and she starts tensing up. “Relax,” I say soothingly. She starts squealing, trying to pull away, and finally she screams as my teeth rip into her flesh. Torri thinks Tiffany is coming and grinds her own cunt harder onto Tiffany’s mouth, smothering her screams, but when I look up at Torri, blood covering my face, meat and pubic hair hanging from my mouth, blood pumping from Tiffany’s torn cunt onto the comforter, I can feel her sudden rush of horror. I use Mace to blind both of them momentarily and then I knock them unconscious with the butt of the nail gun.

Torri awakens to find herself tied up, bent over the side of the bed, on her back, her face covered with blood because I’ve cut her lips off with a pair of nail scissors. Tiffany is tied up with six pairs of Paul’s suspenders on the other side of the bed, moaning with fear, totally immobilized by the monster of reality. I want her to watch what I’m going to do to Torri and she’s propped up in a way that makes this unavoidable. As usual, in an attempt to understand these girls I’m filming their deaths. With Torri and Tiffany I use a Minox LX ultra-miniature camera that takes 9.5mm film, has a 15mm f/3.5 lens, an exposure meter and a built-in neutral density filter and sits on a tripod. I’ve put a CD of the Traveling Wilburys into a portable CD player that sits on the headboard above the bed, to mute any screams.

I start by skinning Torri a little, making incisions with a steak knife and ripping bits of flesh from her legs and stomach while she screams in vain, begging for mercy in a high thin voice, and I’m hoping that she realizes her punishment will end up being relatively light compared to what I’ve planned for the other one. I keep spraying Torri with Mace and then I try to cut off her fingers with nail scissors and finally I pour acid onto her belly and genitals, but none of this comes close to killing her, so I resort to stabbing her in the throat and eventually the blade of the knife breaks off in what’s left of her neck, stuck on bone, and I stop. While Tiffany watches, finally I saw the entire head off—torrents of blood splash against the walls, even the ceiling—and holding the head up, like a prize, I take my cock, purple with stiffness, and lowering Torri’s head to my lap I push it into her bloodied mouth and start fucking it, until I come, exploding into it. Afterwards I’m so hard I can even walk around the blood-soaked room carrying the head, which feels warm and weightless, on my dick. This is amusing for a while but I need to rest so I remove the head, placing it in Paul’s oak and teak armoire, and then I’m sitting in a chair, naked, covered with blood, watching HBO on Owen’s TV, drinking a Corona, complaining out loud, wondering why Owen doesn’t have Cinemax.

Later—now—I’m telling Tiffany, “I’ll let you go, shhh…,” and I’m stroking her face, which is slick, owing to tears and Mace, gently, and it burns me that she actually looks up hopefully for a moment before she sees the lit match I’m holding in my hand that I’ve torn from a matchbook I picked up in the bar at Palio’s where I was having drinks with Robert Farrell and Robert Prechter last Friday, and I lower it to her eyes, which she instinctively closes, singeing both eyelashes and brows, then I finally use a Bic lighter and hold it up to both sockets, making sure they stay open with my fingers, burning my thumb and pinkie in the process, until the eyeballs burst. While she’s still conscious I roll her over, and spreading her ass cheeks, I nail a dildo that I’ve tied to a board deep into her rectum, using the nail gun. Then, turning her over again, her body weak with fear, I cut all the flesh off around her mouth and using the power drill with a detachable, massive head I widen that hole while she shakes, protesting, and once I’m satisfied with the size of the hole I’ve created, her mouth open as wide as possible, a reddish-black tunnel of twisted tongue and loosened teeth, I force my hand down, deep into her throat, until it disappears up to my wrist—all the while her head shakes uncontrollably, but she can’t bite down since the power drill ripped her teeth out of her gums—and grab at the veins lodged there like tubes and I loosen them with my fingers and when I’ve gotten a good grip on them violently yank them out through her open mouth, pulling until the neck caves in, disappears, the skin tightens and splits though there’s little blood. Most of the neck’s innards, including the jugular, hang out of her mouth and her whole body starts twitching, like a roach on its back, shaking spasmodically, her melted eyes running down her face mixing with the tears and Mace, and then quickly, not wanting to waste time, I turn off the lights and in the dark before she dies I rip open her stomach with my bare hands. I can’t tell what I’m doing with them but it’s making wet snapping sounds and my hands are hot and covered with something.

The aftermath. No fear, no confusion. Unable to linger since there are things to be done today: return videotapes, work out at the gym, a new British musical on Broadway I promised Jeanette I’d take her to, a dinner reservation to be made somewhere. What’s left of both bodies is in early rigor mortis. Part of Tiffany’s body—I think it’s her even though I’m having a hard time telling the two apart—has sunken in and her ribs jut out, most broken in half, from what’s left of her stomach, both breasts having been pierced by them. A head has been nailed to the wall, fingers lie scattered or arranged in some kind of circle around the CD player. One of the bodies, the one on the floor, has been defecated on and seems to be covered with teeth marks where I had bitten into it, savagely. With the blood from one of the corpses’ stomachs that I dip my hand into, I scrawl, in dripping red letters above the faux-cowhide paneling in the living room, the words I AM BACK and below it a scary drawing which looks like this