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11 -- Meet Your Master

(trent's pov)

“Countdown to the end
And we’re headed there faster
Come on down my friend
It’s time to meet your master…”
-- ‘Meet Your Master’ by Nine Inch Nails

With a sick grin twisting upon my lips, I walked fully into the room, never letting my finger off the trigger of my gun. I heard the soft footsteps, muffled by the thick, lush carpet, as Jade followed me. Not losing my target, I grabbed one of the two spare guns out of the bag and passed it back to him. Jade took it with shaking hands and, I assumed, aimed it at the same target that I had.

A certain Mr. Wilbert Bray, the official Overseer of National Manufacturing for the Bureau. He was the perfect title, as Jade and I had decided -- he was important to have a ‘national’ title, but he was unimportant enough to not be heavily guarded.

Okay, I’ll cut to the chase -- he wasn’t guarded at all. That single goddamn door was the only thing protecting him, and we all see how well that protected him. But he would be delightful as a captive -- with the right amount of torture, he would rat out all the Government’s secrets. Well, most of them, at least. The important ones.

He seemed to wilt in his chair as I pulled out that cold pair of handcuffs from my bag. I just grinned at him as he sat, frozen and glued to his seat. A small part of me pitied him. But, then again, that part of me was small and the rest of me knew that he was feeding this ugly machine of hatred and lies. He was part of what had lead me here.

Too bad, suckers, what comes around goes around. Or whatever that saying is.

Concerning "Meet Your Master"

...

Oh god, yes, something is wrong. Very wrong...

*cough* I'm not sure I'll be able to finish it by November.

So, I'm posting all I have written. If I write anymore, I'll post it here, too :)

Year Zero is hiatus-ing through November. You can read my NaNovel at classofthirteen.blogspot.com.

The next post will be documenting MYM, unedited :)

A Pretty Hate Romance (oh yes.)

Title: A Pretty Hate Romance
Pairing: Trentvey
Series: The Perfect Drug, entry #3 [after Burnt Ravioli..., before Beside You (In Time)]
Summary: to come
Notes: Set to the amazing backdrop that is the album Pretty Hate Machine, we explore the ups and downs of the long-distance relationship between Trent and Davey as they both tour.
Progress: In progress, stay tuned.
Chapters (all unfinished/unwritten):
1. Head Like a Hole
2. Terrible Lie
3. Down In It
4. Sanctified
5. Something I Can Never Have
6. Kinda I Want To
7. Sin
8. That's What I Get
9. The Only Time
10. Ringfinger

Beside You (In Time) -- PTII Teasers

No way.
I just finished it, and my god is it epic.
Trent's POV...

My thoughts cut off as he came into focus. Davey. My one and only, my true love. In the hospital, arms covered with casts that covered a grotesque sleeve of burns from reaching into the fire for me. Too bad it was all a waste, though…

He was crying now. I couldn’t take seeing him cry, ever. It was the worst thing I could imagine. He was crying for me. He was crying because I was dead, because I would never come back to him. It felt like someone was wrenching the heart out of my dead chest. I was making him cry.

God-Given Teasers

Oh yes.

Will be posted tomorrow...

[Trent] trailed off as we all heard the faint sound of footsteps above our heads. Trent glanced around, having taken the flashlight, to reveal emptiness and the four of us being pretty much alone. An eyebrow raised in caution, Trent beckoned us to follow him as he stepped further into the basement. We followed him, making our footsteps as silent as possible and heading into the belly of the beast called the U.S. Bureau of Morality.

New Site

Yes. It's a regular ol' site for writing.

Closer to God (halox9)

IDGAF how religious all the CTG sites make me look.

"Savior" (Billievey)

(Billie Joe's POV)

It kills me not to know this, but I’ve all but just forgotten what the color of his eyes were, or his scars or how he got them. As the telling signs of age rain down a single tear is dropping through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten. There is no reconciliation that will put me in my place. And there is no time like the present to drink these draining seconds. But seldom do these words ring true when I'm constantly failing you like walls that we just can't break through until we disappear.

“So tell me now, if this ain't love then how do we get out?” I asked. Because I don't know.

That's when he said, “I don't hate you, boy, I just want to save you while there's still something left to save.”

That's when I told him, “I love you, extraordinary girl, but I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have.”

But that day pressed on like crushing weights, for no man does it ever wait like memories of dying days that deafen us like hurricanes. Bathed in flames we held the brand, uncurled the fingers in your hand, pressed into the flesh like sand.

“Now do you understand?” he asked.

Now we’re 1000 miles away and there's nothing left to say. But so much left that I don't know. We never had a choice, this world is too much noise, it takes me under once again
I don’t hate you…

“So tell me now, if this ain't love then how do we get out?” I asked. Because I don't know.

That's when he said, “I don't hate you, boy, I just want to save you while there's still something left to save.”

That's when I told him, “I love you, extraordinary girl, but I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have.”

I don’t hate you.

I don’t hate you, no…

----

AN: This is mostly for right after American Idiot, when Billie Joe's forgotten Davey's name.
I own nothing.
Lyrics (c) Rise Against

NaNoWriMo-ing: 21st Century Breakdown

Check out its blog.

^ That place above is where I'm gonna post my NaNo fic.
Basically.

Year Zero Blog

yr2022.blogspot.com

Posting in-character as Year Zero people. Mostly for light-hearted fun.
Cursing, sex and alcohol heavy drug use/abuse warning.