drunk writing/re-writing Tulett the 100th goddamn time.

So sitting here, being a bit tipsy, but having one hell of a inspiration, so I just went with it. As few might now, I’ve actually re-written the Tulett story over a dozen times. During my trip to France (~2008? I’m bad at keeping up with Time) I had actually finished the story and given it for a review to a friend of mine, which gave quite a constructive, but generally positive review, but eventually I discarted the storyline as being blunt and without a real story.

Anyway, just a bot of a backstory to where this is going. For the record I have the characters and their back stories written out and I’m more than pleased with those, so I’m currently still stuck with the “main message” of the story. I can write. I can write heaps of stories, but I want to write this one with an underlying actual story line I’d be proud of. As I’m slowly piecing together the DNA of Tulett, I often get either disheartened by my lack of language and ability to speak my mind in more than just basic terms, or super-inspired, discarting my lack of abilities, like a two-legged lion, ripping out of it’s cage.

(I laugh to myself, since I started writing this without any real knowledge as to what I actually want to say, but I actually make sense in the end.) As I sit here tipsy (style-wise very bad way how to write, but hey, I’m learning as I read ( Nietzsche at the moment, for the record. And what a trip he is, I have to say)), I’ve managed to slur out 3 pages worth of Tulett material. Anyway. This is god-knows-what-time of re-writing this, bet here I go. so far very happy with it.

The pressure in Fran’s head was building up. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to get out, so she did. As she ripped through the crowd and opened the doors, the smoke steam and stench of it all dissolved into the cool night’s air.

Taking in a deep breath it almost felt like being alive again.  The girl stood there for a while, eyes closed. Without opening them up, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Lit one up and opened her eyes as the blew out the first smoke.

It was a starry night, but some clouds covered parts of the sky. As they rolled over the magnificent view, it almost looked like the giant growing moon was pulsating. Like a giant, illuminated heart in the middle of the universe.

Some other smokers were gathered in small crowds. Cracking jokes, sharing gossip and trying to find a lover. The ones that already had, were hidden for the unlikely observer, the the shades of the dark back street, away from the street lamps and the bar’s fluorescent windows. But Fran saw them. Fran saw everything most people didn’t.

„Oi, Fran! Whatcha doing ‘ere?” a raspy voice sounded from the door. She turned and saw her friend Thom. He was a big guy, looked like he could crack somebody’s head with his bare arms. His green mohawk, tattoos, chains and ragged clothes just added to his threatening appearance. Couple of smoker groups paused what they were talking about and glanced at both Thom and Fran as if she was in trouble. It was far from it. Thom had one of the kindest hearts she knew.

„Just smokin’.” She raised her cigarette, so he could see it.

„Cool. Wait a sec’.. Shut the hell up, you asshole, that wasn’t..” His voice faded as the door closed. The groups went back to their topics and Fran strolled up the back street up to the main one. She glanced to her left. Empty. She breathed in the fresh air. The one thing she most loved was empty streets in the middle of the night. Almost felt like you owned the World for that second.

She opened her eyes and glanced to her right and was taken aback as she saw some silthouette standing on the other side of the street. Almost felt like that fairy World she imagined just seconds ago was shattered. The silthouette appeared to be smoking. Some smoke appeared against the street lights. Few seconds later the person turned around the corner and walked away.

“Wankers..” She mumbled.

“Who’s a wanker?” Thom startled her from behind. He was lighting up as she turned.

“Shit, man, you scared the shit out of me!” She punched him on the shoulder.

“Hey! It’s not my problem you’re a scary cat!” He smiled, “Aren’t you cold? Shit, it makes me cold just looking at you..” He pointed to Fran’s near naked body.

“Har har! Very funny.” There was a moment of silence as Thom pulled in a big smoke, held it for a bit and then let it out his lungs.

“Ahh.. There’s nothing like a good smoke.”

“Tell me about it..” They stood in silence, enjoying their smokes

“Hey, when do you plan on finishing my arm, man?” Thom pointed to his half-finished skull tattoo on his upped arm.

“Whenever, dude.” She lit another cigarette. Thom rubbed the end of his on his palm. Fran grimaced, but didn’t say anything.

“How about today?”

“Sure, but I need to get my kit. You know where we could do it? You know Maddie isn’t having any of that in the apartment.”

“Yah, man. I’m going to Maggie’s after this. We’re having a game, so you can do during that.”

“You’ll be able to concentrate, while I’m working?”

“Dude, we’re half-pissed. I don’t think it’s going to be a game of the century.” He gave out a laugh. Fran smiled.

“True. Well, then should I go get my kit?”

“Sure, just let me go with you. You’re gonna get raped looking like that..” He snorted.

“Hey!” She punched him again. He started laughing.

“Wait up, I’ll tell Maggie we’re meeting up at his place.” He burped and went in. Fran sat down on the sidewalk.

“You know he does have a point..” Fran saw a young woman dressed in tight leathery bondage dress. Her black hair were flowing down her sides.

“Speak for yourself, bitch.” Fran drew her eyes from her down to the other side of the street in front of her. It was quite a challenge. The woman was gorgeous. Body to die for, big luscious lips painted black, piercing eyes framed in eye liner and a silvery decorative filigree on her forehead between them. If Fran gave a secod thought to anything anybody says, she’d be hurt.

“Owch.. Now there’s a way how not to treat people.” Fran gave her a stare, but didn’t say anything, “Anyway, I was more reffering to you being a knockout.” She sat beside Fran, who was struggling not to blush. She wasn’t used to people speaking up with her. She often got startes, she was used to those, since she did have quite a skeletal complextion and it got poeple questioning, but nobody actually did. She turned her head towards the woman, as if expecting explanation. She was just looking forward. Fran followed her glance and was surprised as she stopped at a view of a cat tearing up a rat, “Circle of life.”

“Yah..” she sighed and then pulled in another batch of smoke in her lungs. Fran heard Thom coming out of the doors again. She turned as he came closer and saw a scawny goth kid under Thom’s arm. It was their mutual friend Adam, or as Thom liked to reffer to him “Maggie”. He was a bit younger than Thom, dressed all in black, some messy eyeliner around his eyes and even messier hair. Fran questioned his hygene whenever she saw the hair, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Maggie is being a baby and is coming with us..”

“I’m not a baby..!” Adam said hazily as he tried to get out of under Thom’s arm. He froze as he saw the girl next to Fran. She had turned her face to the pair. Fran noticed the awkward silence.

“This is.. sorry, I didn’t..” The girl got up.

“I’m leaving…” Fran was a bit taken aback as she watched her descent. The girl gave her a last look and then walked into the club.

“Whooo!! Somebody got cut off!” Thom burst out laughing.

“What the fuck, man..?” Adam was still fighting his hazy state, looking at the door, as if hoping she would come out again.

“Yeah.. that was.. awkward..” Fran raised her eyebrows.

“Who was she?” Thom lit up another cigarette and gave one to Fran.

“Hell if I know.. A creeper. I think she was trying to hook up with me..”

“Whoo! Lesbo moment. Sorry pal, she’s out of your league.” He gripped Adam tighter.

“Stop it, dude! It was fucking creepy.” Fran lit up her cigarette and they all went down the main street to Fran’s apartment.