The Rest of What I’ve Written For AESGTLA So Far

Two eyes the colour of darkest jet flicked open. No surprise or fear showed on Aubrey Ordifale’s face. It was no use being surprised by the only dream you’d had for over fifty years. No use being afraid either, they’d seen that skeleton a thousand times in dreams and twice in real life.

They threw their faded patchwork quilt off and got up. The sound of rain pattering against the window told them they would need a raincoat, a glance just confirmed it.

A flick of their wrist caused the wardrobe to open and an invisible hand to start looking through the various dresses and jeans and t-shirts inside whilst they took care of their hair and make-up.

Aubrey regarded their face in the gilded mirror that they’d placed on a table to make it resemble a vanity.

‘I haven’t done too badly in terms of looks,’ they thought as they picked up the only tube of mascara they owned, ‘I mean yes, I have more than a few wrinkles around my eyes and I’m pretty sure the bags underneath them make it look like I haven’t slept for a week but I have nice bone structure and my skin is relatively clear of scars or marks.’

Aubrey moved on from mascara and started to apply a thin layer of light pink lip stain.

‘Though, on the thought of bone structure, my nose is slightly crooked after being broken by the book all those years ago.’

They screwed the cap back on to the lip stain tube and twisted around in their chair to face the wardrobe.

In mid-air, held up by some invisible force, was a white blouse with a peter pan collar, a light grey jumper and a pair of jeans.

Another flick of their wrist sent the clothes flying towards the bed to lie neatly on the quilt.

Aubrey got dressed quickly, buttoning up the blouse and pulling down the jumper before putting on the jeans.

They checked their face in the mirror to make they hadn’t smudged the lip stain and, satisfied that they hadn’t, Aubrey pulled on a pair of heavy combat boots that been sat beside the door and went through to the kitchen.


@writer-grandma @alexis-bellissima @ruins-of-gold

AESGTLA: Part of Chapter 1

The air was heavy with an oppressive heat. It reminded them of the blast of hot air you got when opening an oven.

They turned and it felt like they were surrounded by treacle, it took them so long to do just that.

Bearing down upon them was a giant skeleton, clothed in an old soldier’s uniform. Where it’s eyes had been were two pits of blue fire.

It’s lower jaw dropped down and a single blood curdling shriek came out. Blood started to drip out of their ears and they covered them with their hands in an ineffective attempt to get the shriek to-


@writer-grandma @alexis-bellissima @ruins-of-gold

in front of the camera pt.6

(The camera starts up with Mallory’s face really close to the screen She moves backwards and you can see that she is standing in a hallway)

“Hello, fuckers,” she began in a hushed voice. “What we’re doing today is putting this,” she indicated to a bucket filled with soapy water, “over Alois’ door and recording the results.

(Cut to her hiding behind the corner as the door opens. There is a yell of surprise before she reveals herself, the camera moving jerkily before focusing on Alois.)

“Why the fuck would you do that?! There’s soap in my eyes!” the long haired man yelled, pulling the bucket off his head.

“I noticed your eyeballs were dirty so I thought I should help you to clean them!” she chirped.

“What the fuck?”

“A wash a day keeps your eyeballs from turning grey!”

in front of the camera pt.5

(The camera starts as Mallory flops down into a swivel chair. She looks thoughtfully off to the side before turning to face the screen)

“I think Milo is stealing my tea and replacing it with Blondie’s boss’ alcohol,” her voice was incredibly blithe as she said that.

“Obviously, revenge will have to be dealt,” she continued, an eerily cheerful smile appearing on her face. “I don’t even like whisky. Why the fuck is he giving it to me?”


@writer-grandma

thanks for the memories (even though they weren’t so great)

They meet again on a parisian street, five years away from the night they both ran away from the gang.

Amanda is happier now, no longer weighed down by the memories of her past and her failed relationships and her failed attempts at starting over. She’s in a relationship, she says, with a female chef.

Anshee is taller and maybe she’s happier and maybe she isn’t, that isn’t important. Her life isn’t different to before she joined the gang. She still has her ghosts and she still loves blackberries. She’s just older. 

They chat and then part ways.

Amanda will go back to her apartment, with her dog and her girlfriend. Maybe she’ll mention Anshee and maybe she wont.

Anshee doesn’t know where she’ll go. Maybe in the morning, she’ll be in another part of France, maybe she’ll be in Germany. 

Who knows?

3 Metals and a Song

“Lying on your back with eyes open wide, looking into the sky.”

“That sounds really good, Ana!” Copper, or Imogen depending on who you asked, complimented her silver skinned friend as she read aloud one of the lines from a song she was writing.

“You think? It feels like there’s something…missing,” Liana, or Silver as she was more often known, tapped her pen against her notepad.

The contemplative silence that had fallen was broken by the door being slammed open by Gold.

“Guess what! Guess what!” the hyperactive blonde yelled, bouncing up and down in her spot.

“What?” Copper tilted her head to the side.

“Platinum is allowing me to go to the mainland!” 

“Yay,” Silver didn’t look up from her notepad.

“I know, right?!” Gold either didn’t notice Silver’s sarcastic tone or didn’t care as she bounced out of the room.

“You know,” Copper mused as she stared after the blonde metal, “everyday I come closer to believing that she lives in her own world.”

“You’re only just now realising that?” Silver asked, pen flying across her pad.

“Shut up…” the copper-haired metal grumbled, watching her silver toned friend work.

“Finished!”

“I wanna hear it!”

“Lying on your back with eyes opened wide, staring straight up into the sky.”


@writer-grandma

in front of the camera pt.3

(The camera started up with a side view of Mallory as she applied mascara to her eyelashes.)

“Why is it a thing that when you have like one high ranking female operative or whatever, they’re forced to dress up and wear make-up for the sake of missions,” she complained, turning to face the camera.

“Like, Blondie looks feminine enough, make him do it. Better yet, make Alois do it! He has the hair and people mistake him for a woman on a daily basis. Hell, Daniele would love it!” she jabbed the air with her mascara wand to accentuate her point. “Why the fuck do they think making me, the girl who only pays attention to her hair or her nails when they’re like soaked in blood and it’s honestly getting nasty, do it is a good fucking idea? My entire wardrobe is literally t-shirts, tank-tops, combat boots and ripped jeans for God’s sake!”

She dropped the mascara on the sink counter and looked directly at the camera. “You know what? This is so fucking annoying and I am going on strike.”

(Cut to Mallory sitting on top of the roof with a large supply of apples and sweets, looking down on everyone.)


@writer-grandma

in front of the camera pt.2

(The camera started up with Mallory appearing from the side.)

“We’re summoning a demon today, fuckers!” she yelled before disappearing off camera and coming back with a slightly taller boy. “And this asshole is going to help.”

“Have you finally gone crazy and started talking to yourself?” he asked her, voice monotone and face blank.

“Yep,” she nodded in agreement. “Now come on, we need blood and Blondie’s an unending supply of it.”

(Cut to them covered in soot.)

“That went well,” the taller boy commented.

“Blondie tried to kill us but what else is new?”


@writer-grandma

in front of the camera pt.1

(The camera starts with a close up of a blue eye before the owner moved away and flopped back into a computer chair.)

“So, like, Daniele decided that it would be a good idea for me to keep a video diary because it might reduce my "stress levels” or some shit,“ the girl rolled her eyes and waved one of her hands dismissively to the side. "Because that’s a thing people do, apparently.”

“Anywho, I’m Mallory and I might just end up killing him for this.”


@writersloth or should it be @writer-grandma?