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This one goes out to Katherine. She’s a wonderful patron and friend from Patreon.

Title: CONQUISTADORE
Author: Harper Kingsley
Original Fiction
World: Being Blaise
Genre: drama
Rating: mature(?)

–

He’s not a bad guy. At least, he doesn’t think he is. He’s just someone that knows how to take care of himself in any situation. He’s not the kind to leave an opportunity unplucked.

There’s always been a hunger in him. A boundless need to survive. No matter what test was thrown at him, he always fought to the very end. It was one of those things that kept him special: pure.

Sometimes he feels a genocidal fury. The echo of his people at home, their fierce warrior spirit and their need to subdue, conquer. He hates that part of himself. That sour evil persona that rode in his skin.

He needed to get away from the temptation. He needed to start somewhere new and fresh.

He needed just one chance.

So when he found the letters from the delightful Smith family, he was happy to take the call. It felt like destiny. Everything he ever wanted neatly wrapped up in a bow.

A new name. A new life. A great opportunity.

*

The Family is a strange one. They smile at him so brightly and pull him into their home. He forces himself to put on a bright persona, one of such saccharine sweetness that it nearly turns his teeth. He is willing to do anything to stay in this much sweeter country, even act the fool.

He is enrolled in school. He gets a job stocking shelves in a grocery store.

He had been a ruler of men, and now he was mopping floors and reading books. He had never been happier.

It’s why he chose the name Blaise Lumineer Andrews for his new life. It displayed his enthusiasm and just the right amount of gaudy ridiculousness to brighten his mood.

*

He slipped his way through every bit of their life. He became serpentlike and sly, spreading himself out until they had no choice but to accept him.

He became one of the centers of their world. They LOVED him, and he knew it well.

Which is why it was such a shock when they abandoned him at a mall and disappeared. He was a smart man, he could have figured out where they were. But he also had the common sense to accept what had happened.

He’d been abandoned.

Again.

It hurt to know how many times it had happened and how many times it would probably happen again. People come and people go, and they would always leave him behind with a shallow goodbye.

Blaise hugged himself for ten minutes straight.

Then he went and got wasted, shoving off the grasping hand of amorous would-be lovers. He didn’t have any kind of skin-hunger at the moment. He only wanted to be left alone.

To wallow in the loneliness of knowing that he was alone in a country far from home. The only people that he’d had to cling to in this strange place had thrown him away.

He’d get along, he always did.

*

The man in the mirror was a shadow of someone he used to know. He doesn’t even have that name anymore.

He works so hard everyday, but it never feels like he’s getting anywhere. There’s never enough money and there’s a growing sense of helplessness that he hates.

He’d spent a childhood scrabbling in the muck with his aunt at his side, so he feels like he should be managing better. His aunt is long gone and it’s just him now, which makes everything different.

Poverty was the reason he’d turned to crime in his first life. But he’s trying to be someone new this time. He wants to make a different choice.

It’s just hard sometimes.

He’d get a spark of temptation when his stomach was gurgling and he was eating ramen out of the pan.

Back in the old days he’d still be eating ramen, but at least he hadn’t had to be the one to cook it. There’d always been a bitchboy or two running around, ready to fall all over themself to please him.

He missed having minions and lackeys. He missed the hustle and bustle and NOISE of having other people around.

He hated living alone.

At least when he’d been a villain he’d had company and someone to take care of him. But now he couldn’t even afford the cheapest of Companions.

Being Blaise was harder than he would have thought.

=THE END=

STORY PROMPT => Tungee (American Dad) isn’t actually an orphan boy, not in the way that he presented himself. He’s really a guerrilla fighter that found some letters and tricked his way out of a warzone.

He’s not a bad guy. At least, he doesn’t think he is. He’s just someone that knows how to take care of himself in any situation. He’s not the kind to leave an opportunity unplucked.

0 comments on "Patreon; Locks of Love; Regrowing green onions"

I use my Patreon page => http://www.patreon.com/HarperKingsley?ty=c <= like it’s some weird scrapbook. Except I’m that crafter that posts random pictures with text that completely doesn’t match. Like those greeting cards with the picture of a sunset accompanied by beautifully scripted nonsense.

Take my “Nancy, Drew, and Charlie” thing for instance.

Nancy, Drew, and Charlie at www.patreon.com/harperkingsley

For some reason I thought that I would share my picture of where the bugs were munching at my plants. (Those bites are what I blame for my crop failure :P) That picture has nothing to do with the dialogue. But I chose to use it anyway.

So if you want to say you visit my Patreon page just to look at the pictures… I will completely understand.

* * *

I had the Kid cut my hair to donate to Locks of Love. It’s 11-inches of dark brown medium grain straight hair. Hopefully it will make someone a great wig.

For my head, the Kid did a good job. It’s a little lopsided, but I can fix it myself. It makes me feel lighter and more carefree to have shorter hair. It feels more like a giant life change than just a haircut.

I like shorter hair because it feels better, not just physically but spiritually. It’s like my hair gathers up all of the miseries of the year, and when I cut it off a weight is lifted from my shoulders.

I have a round face. I look best with my hair down past my chin, giving the illusion of a longer face, or pulled back to show off my neck and bone structure. Anything else and my face looks like a basketball. I tell people I have a Charlie Brown head because it’s true.

The longer my hair gets, the prettier I become. It’s some kind of weird curse. The best look for me is the one I hate the most. If I ever want to be “beautiful,” I’d have to carry my miseries around like a flowing cape of seal brown locks.

Ugh. I hate how long hair sheds. I’m not someone that takes care of my hair–I let it ride around in a ponytail and my hat is my friend. I grow my hair out just to chop it off.

I hope this feeling of renewal lasts a while.

* * *

I’ve been regrowing green onions. I buy them from the store, chop the green off to use, and stick the white ends with the dangly roots in my grow tray. The aquaponics really make them shoot up fast. I can get two uses out of one bunch of green onions.

Speaking of aquaponics: we’ve planted some lettuce, green onion, and white onion. The zucchini is pretty much a bust–our media is being kept way too moist. I don’t have any say in that though.

The Kid showed me a YouTube video where someone got roots to grow out of a brussels sprout. I’m going to try that and see what happens. I’ll try to get some regular pictures. It just seems so interesting to me–I didn’t know you could regrow brussels sprouts, and I’m really curious whether a new sprouts tree will grow. That would be super cool.

* * *

Mad Max 2014:

I feel that there might be fanfiction in my future. The Mad Max fandom will either stand up on its own, or it will be absorbed by the Nolan-Batman (Blake/Bane/Barsad) or Inception (Arthur/Eames) fandoms. I’m not worried. (And if I’m real lucky, the wonderful brain that spawned the Nolan-Batman/The Collector longfic will fusion me up some Nolan-Batman/The Collector/Mad Max action with Blake and Barsad escaped from the Collector into a Mad Max world.)