Post by Cameron on Dec 28, 2005 14:42:53 GMT -5
"Cameron," the well-muscled man said sweetly, his mate removing his hands from their son's eyes.
"Hmm?" the young man said, turning his nose up at the ticket that lay in front of him. They were for a private flight - one that Cameron would NOT be attending.
"You. Need. To. Leave," he said, carefully punctuating each word and making them sound forced. Cameron's mother just kind of stood back, tinkering with something in the kitchen.
"Why? I mean, I know I'm still a looker, so why not have your trophy son at home?" the fawn-haired man replied, a coating of sweetness to hide his (rather obvious) malice. How dare they send him away? And to another planet! ... Sensaforia by the ticket. Ooh, massages and shopping-
"It leaves tonight. Pack your things," his father said incredibly sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. He hated arguing with his son, but it couldn't be helped.
"I already told you that I don't want to go, and you will not make me!" he yelled. His mother sighed, shaking his head and holding a hand over his eyes.
"Cameron," his mother said sweetly, patting the boy's hair, "Just do something nice. For once in your life. Because we will force you to leave if that's what it takes."
"... Nuh-uh," was the reply. Good thing they had thought about his rejection earlier; his things were already packed and being loaded onto the ship.
He found this out when he walked into his room and gasped (for he had been out while they did this), seeing almost absolutely nothing. "Mother! Father!" he yelled as calmly as he could, clenching his jaw shut tight.
"Yes, Sweet?" his mother replied as he walked back into the kitchen. He was doing the innocent act very well.
"Where are my things?" he hissed at his parents, twirling his hair on his index finger.
"Oh, those?" his mother laughed, bringing his hand up to his face like a true trickster, "All of it is being packed onto the ship right about now, hun. They're going to leave in thirty minutes."
Cameron didn't even say anything, just kind of blankly grabbed the ticket and ran towards the address his parents had mentioned the numerous times they tried to get him to go.
As he arrived, they were just finishing putting his things in the ship, and they ushered him in once they took the ticket. 'Oh well,' he thought, shrugging inwardly, 'I get some time to shop in Sensaforia~!'
He sat down, the other two across from him talking loudly, and not to mention they were the most annoying beings in existance. Cameron sighed dramatically, picking up a magazine from the the rack on his side of the ship. Thank GOD they got their own rooms. So, as the day drew on to a close, and the people were still talking, Cameron retreated to his own room. It was quaint and comfy, though not at all to his liking. He WAS King Mean, after all, and while this room was rather homey, it didn't hold any vanity that he was so fond of. He shook his head, looking through his suitcases (his parents must have sent him away for a long time) until he found his pajamas, which consisted of a blue-green Tee shirt and some dark blue plaid boxers.. He slipped into them and locked his door, going to the bathroom to clean himself and then - er - relieve himself. Then he lay in the bed, too tired to take a shower tonight. Tomorrow would have to do.
Around one or two AM, Cameron was awakened by the loud THUNK! of his own body crashing to the floor as the ship rocked back and forth. He frowned, grumbling to himself about what, exactly, he was going to tell the captain. He sneered, reaching for the door knob. He had only gotten his hand about two inches from it before he felt heat practically pouring out of it. Sooo... there was a fire. And then the intercom to his room came on and the captain advised him to make it to an escape pod... escape pods that were stored somewhere behind that burning hot door. Yeah, sure, he was going to make it to an escape pod. He cried out as the ship shook again, and he could almost feel it crashing. He knew it was, as well, because he had a window in his room. Thank the heavens it hadn't broke. He ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and sat in the (thankfully) dry bottom. He hugged his legs up to his chest and scowled. "I bet they hired those people to effin' shoot me!" he said angrily at the shower's wall. No responce.
And then the ship crashed, and Cameron was knocked out, but safe. All because showers don't have seatbelts. Tsk.
A few hours later he woke up, somewhat trapped in the mangled metal. His pajamas had ripped a bit, but that was kind of expected. He decided that he was fine, and decided to try and crawl out. As he did, he got many scratches and cuts on his hands, arms, and legs from broken glass and sharp metal. Finally he arrived into civili - a forest. He sighed, and flopped onto the ground, making a tired and wounded sound. "Oh GOD I hate them now!" he whined, looking around. There didn't seem to be anyone anywhere near him. Great. "This is such a dream," he said worriedly, pinching his arm quite hard. He was fed up with reality now. What a total bitch, it is. He burried his face in his hands whining about not being able to take a shower or clean his face. Nevermind eating, or finding somewhere to stay. Or a little money issue (that was "oh my god, you don't have any money, Cam").
Cameron was stranded.
"Hmm?" the young man said, turning his nose up at the ticket that lay in front of him. They were for a private flight - one that Cameron would NOT be attending.
"You. Need. To. Leave," he said, carefully punctuating each word and making them sound forced. Cameron's mother just kind of stood back, tinkering with something in the kitchen.
"Why? I mean, I know I'm still a looker, so why not have your trophy son at home?" the fawn-haired man replied, a coating of sweetness to hide his (rather obvious) malice. How dare they send him away? And to another planet! ... Sensaforia by the ticket. Ooh, massages and shopping-
"It leaves tonight. Pack your things," his father said incredibly sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. He hated arguing with his son, but it couldn't be helped.
"I already told you that I don't want to go, and you will not make me!" he yelled. His mother sighed, shaking his head and holding a hand over his eyes.
"Cameron," his mother said sweetly, patting the boy's hair, "Just do something nice. For once in your life. Because we will force you to leave if that's what it takes."
"... Nuh-uh," was the reply. Good thing they had thought about his rejection earlier; his things were already packed and being loaded onto the ship.
He found this out when he walked into his room and gasped (for he had been out while they did this), seeing almost absolutely nothing. "Mother! Father!" he yelled as calmly as he could, clenching his jaw shut tight.
"Yes, Sweet?" his mother replied as he walked back into the kitchen. He was doing the innocent act very well.
"Where are my things?" he hissed at his parents, twirling his hair on his index finger.
"Oh, those?" his mother laughed, bringing his hand up to his face like a true trickster, "All of it is being packed onto the ship right about now, hun. They're going to leave in thirty minutes."
Cameron didn't even say anything, just kind of blankly grabbed the ticket and ran towards the address his parents had mentioned the numerous times they tried to get him to go.
As he arrived, they were just finishing putting his things in the ship, and they ushered him in once they took the ticket. 'Oh well,' he thought, shrugging inwardly, 'I get some time to shop in Sensaforia~!'
He sat down, the other two across from him talking loudly, and not to mention they were the most annoying beings in existance. Cameron sighed dramatically, picking up a magazine from the the rack on his side of the ship. Thank GOD they got their own rooms. So, as the day drew on to a close, and the people were still talking, Cameron retreated to his own room. It was quaint and comfy, though not at all to his liking. He WAS King Mean, after all, and while this room was rather homey, it didn't hold any vanity that he was so fond of. He shook his head, looking through his suitcases (his parents must have sent him away for a long time) until he found his pajamas, which consisted of a blue-green Tee shirt and some dark blue plaid boxers.. He slipped into them and locked his door, going to the bathroom to clean himself and then - er - relieve himself. Then he lay in the bed, too tired to take a shower tonight. Tomorrow would have to do.
Around one or two AM, Cameron was awakened by the loud THUNK! of his own body crashing to the floor as the ship rocked back and forth. He frowned, grumbling to himself about what, exactly, he was going to tell the captain. He sneered, reaching for the door knob. He had only gotten his hand about two inches from it before he felt heat practically pouring out of it. Sooo... there was a fire. And then the intercom to his room came on and the captain advised him to make it to an escape pod... escape pods that were stored somewhere behind that burning hot door. Yeah, sure, he was going to make it to an escape pod. He cried out as the ship shook again, and he could almost feel it crashing. He knew it was, as well, because he had a window in his room. Thank the heavens it hadn't broke. He ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and sat in the (thankfully) dry bottom. He hugged his legs up to his chest and scowled. "I bet they hired those people to effin' shoot me!" he said angrily at the shower's wall. No responce.
And then the ship crashed, and Cameron was knocked out, but safe. All because showers don't have seatbelts. Tsk.
A few hours later he woke up, somewhat trapped in the mangled metal. His pajamas had ripped a bit, but that was kind of expected. He decided that he was fine, and decided to try and crawl out. As he did, he got many scratches and cuts on his hands, arms, and legs from broken glass and sharp metal. Finally he arrived into civili - a forest. He sighed, and flopped onto the ground, making a tired and wounded sound. "Oh GOD I hate them now!" he whined, looking around. There didn't seem to be anyone anywhere near him. Great. "This is such a dream," he said worriedly, pinching his arm quite hard. He was fed up with reality now. What a total bitch, it is. He burried his face in his hands whining about not being able to take a shower or clean his face. Nevermind eating, or finding somewhere to stay. Or a little money issue (that was "oh my god, you don't have any money, Cam").
Cameron was stranded.
