Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2008-09-13 11:36 am
said_scarlett) wrote2008-09-13 11:36 am
Entry tags:
I Fucking Hate Magikarp
I am slowly turning into a morning person. I was awake at 7:30 this morning, had a fiber bar and a cigarette, got showered and dressed and cleared my room for furniture delivery. Then, garbed in my pink and blue JSK, I went to pluck grapes. Why was I plucking grapes? Because here in the Old West, the trade system is alive and well! The little bath and body shop in the square - who's owner I am friendly with - is happy to trade her homemade wares for the bounty of our garden. :D
But now, further adventures in cleaning the house!
The bathroom was the next step. Grimy and dingy, we were rather afraid to tackle it. But![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nijawial took up the task and headed in, armed with cleansers and scrubbing pads. Upon opening the cabinets, mass quantities of vaguely sticky brown goop was discovered. It was everywhere. Clinging to cabinet doors, walls and ceilings. Even now, we are unawares as to what this substance actually is.
I'm going to take a moment to describe our bathroom. It's lovey. Black and white diamond tiles, white cabinets that cover an entire wall, beautiful sculpted brass handles. There is a small chandelier above the tub. It's really a wonderful bathroom.
But when we first inspected it, it had fallen to ruin. The gunk was stubborn, refusing to come off. The toilet seat was loose and wobbly. We won't talk about the toilet itself. And then there was...the stain. We spent an hour deliberating as to whether it looked more like a fleur or a Star Trek com badge. Either way, it detracted from the bathroom.
Upon scrubbing away the mysterious gunk, Nija turned to the cielings. And that was when she called me in to see what she had discovered.
On the ceiling, across from the toilet, clearly outline in the light of a torch, were footprints.
Footprints. On the cieling.
When our friends came by, we discussed the logistics, and decided the only way to get one's feet up in that particular area would be to stand on one's hands with one's head in the toilet, hips contorted at an inhuman angle. Perhaps they had been attempting to turn the toilet into a water bong. We don't know.
Beneath the sink we discovered random pieces of piping and shower rings - oddly enough, something we desperately needed. Odder still, they matched the shower curtain we had just purchased.
We left the ceiling of the bathroom itself for another day. Neither of us desired to try and combat the mysterious stains that had been left there. Black and ominous, we were confused and a bit frightened.
We ordered pizza, watched some Venture Bros, and were exhausted. Time for Fey to call it a night! I went into my bedroom - which promptly locked me in on its own accord, causing me to yell frantically for Nija to break me out - and noticed something.
Anti Christian stickers on my door, scolding me for not being an organ donor. "Don't take your organs to Heaven!" it cried. "We need them more here!". I blinked, remembering this room used to belong to a five year old. Why in the world would a five year old child have stickers like these on their door? I was a tad bit angry - I myself am Christian, and am very much not an organ donor - and grumped a touch before turning out the light to settle into bed.
That's when I saw it. On the cieling. On the walls. On th glass light cover, explaining why the light is dim and and muted. Smeared and slathered about like alien ectoplasm, glow in the dark paint. It was everywhere. Once more I yelled, angry. At this point I decided to check my closet, in case there was something more sinister lurking.
Only a badminton set, old candy and nail polish.
The next day, it was time to check the shed. Now, we had steered clear of the shed. We had assumed, due to the former tenants being holier-than-thou vegans, that all that had been left to spoil was vegetables and the like.
We were wrong.
The fridge had been filled with raw, bloody meat of indeterminate origin. Like some macabre scene from a Stephen King novel, dead and reeking flesh was packed into the old refrigerator and left abandoned to rot in the heat.
Needless to say, even after it had been cleaned, we stayed away. But I was in need of a watering can, and thought perhaps there would be one there.
I found no watering can. But I did find a dog's grave marker, a hurricane lamp and things far stranger. A large jar of clear liquid. We've yet to open it, not silly enough to believe they were keeping something as innocent as water hidden in the dryer. But even odder still was the ceiling.
In the cieling, tucked away between wrapping paper rolls and pink unicorn bags, there were two suitcases.
I am sure there are other things, but it's difficult to remember it all. It's been a long week, to say the least. But there is the gist of it, and more will be added as we remember what other little surprises we found lurking about Silent Hill.
But now, further adventures in cleaning the house!
The bathroom was the next step. Grimy and dingy, we were rather afraid to tackle it. But
nijawial took up the task and headed in, armed with cleansers and scrubbing pads. Upon opening the cabinets, mass quantities of vaguely sticky brown goop was discovered. It was everywhere. Clinging to cabinet doors, walls and ceilings. Even now, we are unawares as to what this substance actually is.I'm going to take a moment to describe our bathroom. It's lovey. Black and white diamond tiles, white cabinets that cover an entire wall, beautiful sculpted brass handles. There is a small chandelier above the tub. It's really a wonderful bathroom.
But when we first inspected it, it had fallen to ruin. The gunk was stubborn, refusing to come off. The toilet seat was loose and wobbly. We won't talk about the toilet itself. And then there was...the stain. We spent an hour deliberating as to whether it looked more like a fleur or a Star Trek com badge. Either way, it detracted from the bathroom.
Upon scrubbing away the mysterious gunk, Nija turned to the cielings. And that was when she called me in to see what she had discovered.
On the ceiling, across from the toilet, clearly outline in the light of a torch, were footprints.
Footprints. On the cieling.
When our friends came by, we discussed the logistics, and decided the only way to get one's feet up in that particular area would be to stand on one's hands with one's head in the toilet, hips contorted at an inhuman angle. Perhaps they had been attempting to turn the toilet into a water bong. We don't know.
Beneath the sink we discovered random pieces of piping and shower rings - oddly enough, something we desperately needed. Odder still, they matched the shower curtain we had just purchased.
We left the ceiling of the bathroom itself for another day. Neither of us desired to try and combat the mysterious stains that had been left there. Black and ominous, we were confused and a bit frightened.
We ordered pizza, watched some Venture Bros, and were exhausted. Time for Fey to call it a night! I went into my bedroom - which promptly locked me in on its own accord, causing me to yell frantically for Nija to break me out - and noticed something.
Anti Christian stickers on my door, scolding me for not being an organ donor. "Don't take your organs to Heaven!" it cried. "We need them more here!". I blinked, remembering this room used to belong to a five year old. Why in the world would a five year old child have stickers like these on their door? I was a tad bit angry - I myself am Christian, and am very much not an organ donor - and grumped a touch before turning out the light to settle into bed.
That's when I saw it. On the cieling. On the walls. On th glass light cover, explaining why the light is dim and and muted. Smeared and slathered about like alien ectoplasm, glow in the dark paint. It was everywhere. Once more I yelled, angry. At this point I decided to check my closet, in case there was something more sinister lurking.
Only a badminton set, old candy and nail polish.
The next day, it was time to check the shed. Now, we had steered clear of the shed. We had assumed, due to the former tenants being holier-than-thou vegans, that all that had been left to spoil was vegetables and the like.
We were wrong.
The fridge had been filled with raw, bloody meat of indeterminate origin. Like some macabre scene from a Stephen King novel, dead and reeking flesh was packed into the old refrigerator and left abandoned to rot in the heat.
Needless to say, even after it had been cleaned, we stayed away. But I was in need of a watering can, and thought perhaps there would be one there.
I found no watering can. But I did find a dog's grave marker, a hurricane lamp and things far stranger. A large jar of clear liquid. We've yet to open it, not silly enough to believe they were keeping something as innocent as water hidden in the dryer. But even odder still was the ceiling.
In the cieling, tucked away between wrapping paper rolls and pink unicorn bags, there were two suitcases.
I am sure there are other things, but it's difficult to remember it all. It's been a long week, to say the least. But there is the gist of it, and more will be added as we remember what other little surprises we found lurking about Silent Hill.