eerieindiana | Better Weird than Dead: An Eerie, Indiana Fic Fest

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Better Weird than Dead: An Eerie, Indiana Fic Fest

(I was talking to Froodle and we decided this is totally necessary. I apologize for the craptastic banner)

eeriefest

What it is: A fest of Eerie Fic! Including Eerie, Indiana and Eerie, Indiana: The Other Dimension. Just comment with your prompts and write for any prompt that speaks to you. That easy!

Rules:

1) Only one prompt per comment, please, but feel free to comment as many times as you want
2) Prompts can be anything. Song lines, words, ideas, pictures; anything goes. Just no NSFW pics
2) Prompts can be filled an unlimited number of times
3) All ratings and genres allowed
4) Rate all stories in the subject line of the comment (i.e., Title of Story, Rating)
6) All pairings and gen fic allowed.
7) Have fun. No, really, it's a rule. It's required. If you aren't having fun the Garbage men will come for you.

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Inspired by the rewatch.
My name is Harley Holmes. Ten years ago my big brother Simon and his friend Marshall Teller disappeared. The only person who has any answers is a guy with gray hair that the Mayor is keeping prisoner. Tonight I'm breaking him out and then I'm going to find my brother and bring him home.
And nobody is going to stop me.

DAMN IT. I was gonna go to bed but I read this and now I am all excited and wont be able to sleep even tho obviously its not gonna get filled in the next few minutes rufnrzifweidiaichrworjfiarkfjsodk omg this prompt is amazing someone fill it now!!

Written for

yarol_2075 for Better Weird than Dead: An Eerie, Indiana Fic Fest

The prompt was:

"Pay attention, Harley; you could learn something."

Once, when Harley was five and it wasn't his birthday, Simon had come home with his backpack full of brand-new books just for him. There were fairy tales, and nursery rhymes, and adventure stories, and there were pictures, huge and brightly coloured and not scribbled on by anyone but Harley. Simon had sat on Harley's small bed, back against the wall, and Harley had leant against his brother's chest, basking in the new-book smell while Simon read to him, Simon's chin resting on top of Harley's head, the index finger of his right hand tracing the words while his left turned the pages. The only sound in the world was Simon's voice, and the thick, clean noise of the heavy pages being turned over.

"Pay attention, Harley; you could learn something."

When Harley was six, the boy next door had almost tricked him into eating a lizard. Simon had stopped him in time, and somehow the lizard had ended up in the pants of the boy who lived next door. He had screamed and rolled around and taken off his pants, and Harley and Simon had laughed and laughed. Later, when Simon tucked him into bed, he had asked what a lizard felt like.
"Like.... this!" Simon had cried, and tickled Harley mercilessly, until he squirmed and shrieked with delight, finally wriggling free to throw his arms around Simon's neck and shouting that he loved him best, best of all, more than even all the lizards in the world.

"Pay attention, Harley; you could learn something."

When Harley was seven, his brother took him trick or treating. A lawn decoration shaped like a mummy had terrified him for reasons he couldn't explain, and he had clung to Simon, sobbing and gasping that the bandaged figure wanted to take his place, that he was sorry, that he wanted to come home. Simon held him, and kissed his tear-stained cheek, and took him home, and that night told him a story about a very cross and bumbling mummy who ate something he shouldn't have and now spent eternity slowly shuffling in search of a bathroom.

"Pay attention, Harley; you could learn something."

When Harley was eight, his brother and the boy next door walked out into the night, and never came back. Then the police came, and the grown-ups from next door, their eyes red from weeping, and the people with video cameras and microphones, and all of them asked the same questions, over and over and over again:

Where were they? What had happened to them? Why didn't they come back?

Harley had retreated to his bedroom and sat on the stained, worn carpet, staring at his bookshelves. He didn't need to ask any questions; he already knew the answers. Like two children in a fairy tale, Simon and the boy next door had lost their way in the dark, strayed from the path, and the darkness had eaten them up.

"Pay attention, Harley; you could learn something."

Harley pondered his precious books. They were older now, well-loved in the way of a small child, and the new-book smell was long gone. Their pages were crumpled, and some of them were sticky with spilled grape juice, and there were tears in the dust jackets that Simon had repaired with sticking tape. But inside, the stories were still the same. Inside, there were monsters; cruel witches, vicious wolves, hungry ghosts. Inside, there were victims; lost children and little old ladies and helpless princesses who rotted away in glass coffins for want of a prince. And inside, there were heroes; bold knights and friendly dragons and kindly wizards.

"Pay attention, Harley; you could learn something."

Harley plucks anxiously at his fingers, knuckles his suddenly stinging eyes. Simon, he thinks helplessly. I'm not smart like you, and I'm only eight; how am I supposed to know if the books are a warning to stay clear, or a map to bring you home?

oh, Harley!!

This is brilliant.

thank you! im just typing up the second bit of it now - I had to stop and get something to eat first n thought id just check my emails and there is more. fic. this was the best idea ever!!

OH GOOD THERE'S MORE

just posted!

"Pay attention, Harley; you could learn something."

So, Harley pays attention.

There's a girl five blocks over who, if you look at her one way, is a girl in flower-patterned dresses with a ribbon in her hair, but changed, if you looked another way, into a boy in a black leather jacket riding a skateboard. And he was always riding a skateboard, no matter where you saw him, even if he was sitting quite still on a bench, he was always, somehow, also riding a skateboard. Sometimes Harley can see both, sort of overlapping and merging into each other, but it makes his eyes ache to watch for too long when they do that.

There's a small white poodle who visits every dog-owning household in Eerie on a nightly basis, getting her comrades ready for a war that never seems to come.

There's a group of men on motorcycles who, twice a year, fight a bloody hour-long battle with monsters wearing garbage men suits.

There's a black cat who hangs out in the Eerie cemetary sometimes. One time, at the height of summer, Harley found him sleeping in a patch of sunlight, but when he reached out to pet him, the cat jumped up with a startled hiss and told him to get lost in a rough, gravelly voice. After that, they just nod at each other when their paths cross. Cat business is rarely boy business, and Harley has enough on his plate.

Under City Hall, there's a prison, except sometimes there isn't. When it's there, someone with grey hair like an old man and the unlined face of a boy in his early teens will scream threats and obscenities to figures in the shadows. Sometimes he just screams. Once, Harley heard him crying, and the sound frightened him so much that he ran all the way home, and vomited 'til his head ached in the safety behind his locked bathroom door.

And one night, standing in the middle of Front Street, there's Sara Sue.

Harley had never seen her before, but he recognises her from Simon's stories. She had a magical pencil that could bring anything to life, or hide anything away, and she had gone to France because she wanted a new mom and her real family were fishes.
"Couldn't she have made us a new mom?" he had asked his brother, the first time he heard the tale. Simon's arm, warm and familiar around his belly, had tightened reflexively, squeezing Harley so tightly that he wriggled and protested.
"Sorry," said Simon, loosening his grip. "But no. She couldn't have given us a new mom. You see, nothing made by the magic pencil was real, in the end."
"Reality is stupid," Harley had snorted, and Simon had laughed and blown raspberries on his stomach.

Now, here she was. He can tell straight away that the face she's wearing isn't her own, that it's something she's drawn on to try and force her way into some new life far away, but she's wearing a beret and the worn stub of an Eerie Number 2 pencil dangles from a piece of string around her neck, so he knows it's her.

Harley is older now, and he has been paying attention for a long, long time. Long enough to know that a heroic quest doesn't have a hope of succeeding unless the hero has a band of trusty companions to help him out along the way. And so, he walks up to Sara Sue, looks past her false face into the sad brown eyes of a girl who vanished thirteen years ago, chasing stories of her own, and introduces himself.

"My name is Harley Holmes. Ten years ago, my big brother Simon and his friend Marshall Teller disappeared. The only person who has any answers is a guy with grey hair that the Mayor is keeping prisoner. Tonight, I'm breaking him out and then I'm going to find my brother and bring him home.
And nobody is going to stop me."

Edited 2015-08-30 13:19 (UTC)

Oh, wow! Is there going to be more?

I havent written any, but honestly, I had a super good time writing it and I kind of feel like theres more, so... idk, maybe?

of course, if anyone else wants to pick it up, that would be awesome too...

pls write more...

O.O

so, there is more now...

http://eerie-indiana.livejournal.com/69715.html

as.it turns out... yes

http://eerie-indiana.livejournal.com/69715.html

I...I...Oh this is perfect! Thank you! Thank you!

XD you are most welcome!

CHILLS
I GOTS CHILLS

*bows*

I was a tiny bit over the character limit o post this in the comments, and I was lazy and didn't feel like double-posting, so:

http://eerie-indiana.livejournal.com/69715.html

Part four is here:

http://eerie-indiana.livejournal.com/70093.html

And part five is here:

http://eerie-indiana.livejournal.com/70226.html

YESSSSSSSSSSS

you know, if you wanna repay me, I totally accept fic...

My brain started the "the actors get sucked into eerie" fic on the drive home

SO EXCITE

Pay Attention verse master post:

https://eerieindiana.dreamwidth.org/1115567.html#cutid4

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Better Weird than Dead: An Eerie, Indiana Fic Fest

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Fic fill for Yarol_2075, Pay Attention, rating K+?

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Pay Attention, part 2

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