Sir Ernest Michael McGunnigal XVII is Mr. Darling.

Becky rolled her eyes and flung her hands up, "Fine! But when my dad gives y'all an evil curse or something, don't blame it on me!" she said, turning on her heels and leading the mismatched group back down the road to her big, rambling house...

Sir Ernest Michael McGunnigal XVII sat in his study at his large oak desk. His eyes where open, but unseeing, for he was asleep. Sir Ernest Michael McGunnigal XVII always slept with his eyes open, because that's how all wizards sleep. That is, except for Becky. But, Becky was a wizard. Becky had to be a wizard as far as her father was concerned. Maybe she slept with her eyes closed, and couldn't make so much as a speck of dust disappear, and she burned even the simplest potion, but none of that mattered to Sir Ernest Michael McGunnigal XVII. No child of his would be a muggle. That was simply impossible. Not after what those muggles did to her mother. 
Sir Ernest shuddered in his sleep. Perhaps because he was thinking of just this. Or maybe because he was dreaming of a swamp full of turtles, one of which is giving birth right next to him, causing him to be unable to move because he was frozen in fear, but really the only thing I wanted to do was get up and run as far away as possible because it was so gross and I just feel itchy thinking about it it was so gross and weird and just what were we talking about?
Ah, yes.
Sir Ernest shuddered in his sleep. He was a hard man and a harder father, but in this moment, he looked utterly helpless.

All he really wanted was what was best for his daughter. He just didn't really know how to communicate that to her.
Just then there was an echoing knock on the large oak door. Sir Ernest awoke with a start. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his wand, just in case.
"Enter." He said in his big booming voice.
Becky entered her father's study closing the door behind her.
"Uh, hey so dad." She said awkwardly.
"Uh, hey so Beckindwarf." Sir Ernest replied somewhat coldly.
"So I have an uh, a question for you."
"It could not wait until the morning?"
"No, not really."
"Alright. What is it?"
"It's a magic question."
"Really?" Said Sir Ernest, excitedly. This was it. Becky had finally gotten her powers.  All was right in the world!
"Can you, well, would it be possible to like, bring someone back from the dead?"
Sir Ernest demeanor went back to being cold and guarded. "Of course not. Death is final. Magic cannot touch it."
"But, like what if the person who you where trying to bring back, was like, a ghost or something?"
"Beckindwarf, I do not understand why this could not wait until the morning."
"It's just, because well, you see-" Becky was cut off by an icy voice behind her.
"Because of me." Said Taylor who had just floated through the wall.
"What are you doing here?" Sir Ernest shouted pulling out his wand.
"Dad, no it's fine. This is Taylor, she's a friendly ghost." Said Becky.
"There is no such thing as a friendly ghost. People are meant to die. That's the natural order of things. Only tortured souls remain on this earth."
 "But that doesn't mean all ghosts are evil. Maybe some are just hurt."
"That is true, but I can guarantee that this one is evil."
"Why?"
"Because I am." Taylor replied.
"What?" Said Danny's voice from the hallway.
"I was not expecting this." Said Jesse.
"Me either though!" Said Danny.
"Open!" Sir Ernest commanded the door.
Jesse and Danny fell into the room because they both had been leaning on the door.
"Ouch." Said Danny. "Hi, Sir McGunnigal, sir, how are you doing tonight?"

"What are these two idiots doing here?" Sir Ernest demanded.
"Hurtful." Said Jesse.
"These two idiots are my friends, dad and I don't appreciate you calling them that. I mean, it's true. They are idiots. But they're my idiots."
"Thanks...I think." Jesse said. 
"Aw, Beck, that was so sweet." Said Danny.

"Uh, so can we get back to the part where I'm evil?" Asked Taylor.
"Oh, yeah sure go ahead. We didn't mean to interrupt. That was kind of rude." Said Jesse.
"It was kind of rude. Back in my day, when I was alive, kids respected their elders. And nowadays, there's just no respect." Said Taylor.
"I know, my mom always says the same thing." Said Danny.
"It sounds your mother and I would be friends." Said Taylor.
"Oh my gosh, I see that. Well, aside from the whole you're an evil ghost lady, and my mom's an elf soccer mom named Carol."
"Right, right, aside from that."
"Anyway, sorry. You're evil?"
"Right." Said Taylor, turning on Sir Ernest. "I may be evil, but I'm not as evil as this man right here." As she spoke, the lights began to flicker and the whole house began to shake. "Sir Ernest Michael McGunnigal XVII, after what you did to me, I've come back to extract my revenge."

Grace, we'll hear from you tomorrow?

-Rose

Lamrag is a usage of all our first initials (in posting order) idk i was bored

  Becky, Jesse and Danny were about to reply, when a thundering crash echoed through the trees in the forest surrounding the ceremony. Alarmed, the trio and their new ghostie friend whirled around, only to see--


.....

"Lamrag!" Danny said, letting out a huge sigh of relief as the giant catbus approached them, an eerie but innocent grin on it's wide face. Since's Danny's family was so big, a simple homeschooler's 15 passenger van was no use for them. They needed something much bigger and better and cuter, so they adopted the catbus as their mode of transportation. However, Lamrag didn't always like to stay put. 

"Jesus Christ, your stupid cat nearly gave me a heart attack," Becky said in exasperation, holding a hand to her heart as she looked up at the friendly, clumsy creature, a look of disgust on her face. 

"Hey, don't speak about causes of death so lightly.." Taylor muttered, crossing her arms and giving Becky a pout.

Becky sighed and shrugged, shivering slightly as she glanced down the street towards her house, "Hey, look, dead girl," she said, suddenly fed up with everything, "The only way I can figure out about bringing you back to life, is by talking to my dad. And I'm just telling you, he's not the friendliest of wizards. Are you sure you want to be alive that badly?"

"Yes! And don't call me dead girl," Taylor said with a huff, glaring down at Becky.

"How'd you die anyway?" Becky asked, ignoring Taylor's anger.

Jesse looked over at Becky, his eyes wide, "Oh my god, Becky, you can't just ask someone how they died!" 

"Listen, lets just... go to your dads house and see what he can do! Maybe he won't be a bad mood?" Danny suggested, staying positive, as all elves did. 

Becky gave a small sigh and an doubtful expression, "I mean, we CAN.... but I doubt it..." she mumbled.

"Please?" Taylor begged, clasping her ghostly hands, "I'll do anything to have a pulse again," she said, giving a pitiful pout. 

Jesse gave Becky a look, raising his eyebrows expectantly, "Let's just go," he mumbled, giving a small shrug. 

Becky rolled her eyes and flung her hands up, "Fine! But when my dad gives y'all an evil curse or something, don't blame it on me!" she said, turning on her heels and leading the mismatched group back down the road to her big, rambling house...




i really gotta go.. i might die from anxiety before i can post next week... #gottalovebeinginashow 

xoxo,
mercy

These Characters all Have Names from Full House? Was This Planned??

People of Earth.
    'Sup.
    Today is Tuesday, November 10th, and I am sleepy. This weather makes me want to go home, crawl under my covers and hibernate until Spring takes away these cold and dreary rainy days when nature looks especially Novemberish- gray, bare, ready for snow.
    But here I am, ready to compose the 5th installment in The Foursome's 3rd annual Round Story.
    Here goes nothing:

    "But then, surely you can help us." Jesse insisted...
    "I can help you," Taylor replied, "Under one condition."
    Jesse, Danny and Becky nodded their heads. Their eyes wide with anticipation, they waited for the ghost to reply with baited breath.
    "Upon completion of your task, you must grant me entrance back into the realm of the living."
    "Huh?" Said Danny.
    "That's impossible." Said Jesse.
    "How would we even attempt to do that?" Wondered Becky.
    Taylor laughed, a hollow, wispy noise that cut the three best friends to the bone with its eerie echoes of a life cut tragically short. "You think it's impossible to bring someone back to life?" She asked, her eyebrows raised as if she almost found their narrow-mindedness comical. "And yet you're entirely on board with a ghost, whose existence you were unaware of until tonight, helping solve the mystery of someone else's death?"
    "Becky told us ghosts existed." Danny blurted out. "Her dad's a wizard."
     Taylor's misty eyes became wide as dinner plates. "So do you know magic?" She asked Becky incredulously.
    Becky colored and looked at her slippers. "No." 
    Taylor softened her gaze. "Oh."
    Jesse spoke up: "There's a chance she could still have magic powers! Her father calls her a--"
    "Late bloomer," Becky finished, her voice in a deadpan. "But I know he's wrong. I'm sixteen. I'm the latest bloomer there is."
     Taylor was quiet for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "Well, since you are familiar with magic and its implications, you are aware that lingering souls can be brought back to life if they do a good deed for a living person?"
    The friends nodded in unison.
    "I'll cut you a deal," Taylor said. "I help you investigate the nature of your mother's death, you grant me life again. Sounds good?"
    Becky, Jesse and Danny were about to reply, when a thundering crash echoed through the trees in the forest surrounding the ceremony. Alarmed, the trio and their new ghostie friend whirled around, only to see--

    Sorry I'm lame guys. Mercy, we'll hear from you tomorrow!
--Laura :)

round story round story round story round story round story

I've been having a really hard time following this story. I think I have too many stories swirling around my head currently. So I'm sorry if this doesn't go as planned or make any sense at all. But here goes nothing. 

"Oh I'm just fine. Thanks for asking." Said a voice from behind Danny making them all jump...

They all turned around and were shocked and frightened by what they saw. 
"I am shocked and frightened by what I see." Danny said and Jesse and Becky nodded in agreement. 

She was sitting on a bench behind them but was she really? Or was she behind the bench? It was hard to tell with this one. Something about her form seemed off.
"Who are you?" Jesse asked. 
"What are you?" Danny asked and Becky elbowed him in the ribs. 
"I am a ghost of the past. My name is Taylor Saint-Clair and as I said, I'm just fine. I appreciate you asking." She gave a small smile. "Not many people ask me how I'm doing." She had large large eyes. It was almost uncanny how large her eyes were. Jesse, Becky, and Danny just stood there looking at her. "Forgive my terrible manners, I so rarely talk to anyone anymore who actually cares about manners that I seem to forget about them. Who are you?"
Jesse, Becky, and Danny just stood there looking at her. Slowly, very slowly they started to back up, then, one after the other, they all turned and ran as quickly as they could back the way they came. Danny was letting out an ear splitting screech of fear. They ran down the street, feet pounding the ground, hearts pounding in their ears, adrenaline pumping in their veins. 
"Wait.... don't go!" Taylor the ghost floated after them. "I really didn't mean to frighten you." She quickly caught up, her face dripping with ghostly tears. "Stay with me please. I haven't seen the living in so long." She grabbed a hold of Jesse's arm, but her fingers slipped through him, and he was left staring at her, a look of horror on his face. 
"What do you want with us?" He screamed at her. 
"What do you want with me?"
"Nothing!" Jesse replied. "What on this earth do you want with us?" At this statement Taylor started to sob heavily. 
"I'm not even a part of this earth anymore." She cried, wiping her nose on the back of her ghostly hand. "Why would you stage the question like that?" 
"I... uh.." Jesse looked around for support. 
"You were the three that invaded my graveyard. You were the three that walked over my grave. You were the three that woke me up tonight." 
"I'm just trying to solve my mothers death." Jesse pleaded with her.
"Yeah, show a little respect to the dead." Danny said. They all turned and looked at him. "What?"
"I AM THE DEAD YOU IDIOT." Taylor screeched. Danny fainted right away and Taylor turned back towards Jesse. "Excuse my shouting. I feel like sometimes it's the only way for me to get a point across. You said you were trying to solve your mothers death, tell me, who is your mother?" 
"Vanessa Cake." Jesse stammered. 
"Are you kidding me?" Shock spread over Taylor's pale face. 
"Why would I kid about who my mother was?"
"Of course, you're right. I'm sorry, like I've said, I sometimes forget manners. It's just, I know her."
"You what?" Becky and Jess asked in surprise.
"Yeah, we were grave mates. She was buried so close to me, you start to get to know each other pretty quickly when you've got all eternity together. Of course, I always called her Vanilla. ha. Vanilla Cake. It was my favorite dessert in life." 
"But then, surely you can help us." Jesse insisted.  

Blech. I'm done with this writing thing. I hate words. I hate the english language. I hate my life. I hate my fingers. I hate my computer. Blech. <3 <3 

In which Rose uses a lot of gifs in protest of Mercy and Laura's lack of gifs and introduces Danny the goth elf who bakes cookies in trees.

Well, it's Thursday.  I'm pretty freaking excited to write this story, but I might screw it up because I'm in a really trippy mood, so I apologize in advance.

Jesse turned to Becky, opening his mouth to say something, when suddenly...

...two hands came out of nowhere and grabbed Jesse's neck. 

Jesse screamed. 

 Becky turned around so fast she felt dizzy.

And saw....

That the person seemingly trying to kill Jesse...

Was...

...Becky and Jesse's other best friend Danny.

Danny was an elf. Not this kind of elf.

Danny was the kind of elf that baked cookies in trees.

Kind of. His family owned a bakery on the edge of The Enchanted Forest. So Danny was technically the kind of elf that baked cookies near trees. 

Danny was the 11th born of 21 children. He was smack dab in the middle. His family was a happy bunch was who always smiling. They didn't laugh, they chortled. And sang and danced and never frowned.

Danny wasn't that kind of elf. He was rebellious. He was a goth. (Or a punk. Which word do the kiddo's use these days?) He didn't always smile, sometimes he smirked. And, if you can believe it, he even kind of understood sarcasm. Kind of. Somewhat. Not really. Danny, wasn't really a goth. He wanted to be but he was more like a bad Peter Pan punk edit. He tried a little bit too hard. In an endearing kind of way. Most of his family just chortled off his "rebellion" because it really was kind of pathetic. Most of his attempts to "stick it to the man" went unnoticed. His one and only noticeable rebellion was having everyone call him Danny. Because his birth name, Dandy, wasn't punk rock enough.

Danny let go of Jesse's neck and was bent over chortling for a solid minute, while pushed air back into his lungs.

Danny's laughter was infectious. Becky started giggling. 

And even Jesse couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Hey Jess, how are ya feelin'?" Danny asked with a giggle.

"You're the worst." Jesse said.

"I know." Said Danny turning his attention to Becky. "Becky Orlando O'Donnell." (Okay so I know how Laura said Becky's dad's last name was McGunnigal, but she never specifically said that that was Becky's last name and it's really important to me that she has these initials, because I think it's really funny and I'm really tired. So just go with me on this. I'll come up with a back story for why she has a different last name than her dad later on, okay?)

"How are you today?"

"I'm just dandy, Dandy." Said Becky. Danny playfully shoved Becky for the use of his real name.

"So, are we going to do this, or what?" Said Danny. The mood suddenly went from zero to sixty in less that two seconds. The three friends began their somber walk to the graveyard in silence.

The silence continued through the large Gothic gates of the Salem Township Graveyard, and down the rows and rows of graves. Becky couldn't help but squirm when she thought of all the bodies decaying just 6 feet below her feet. All the people. All the stories. All below her, slowly turning to dust. Becky was allergic to dust. So it was strange to think that one day she would be nothing but a pile of the hateful stuff that made her sneeze.

Jesse stopped somewhat abruptly causing Becky to walk right into him, and  fall over. 

"Are you okay?" Jesse asked helping her up.

"Oh I'm just fine. Thanks for asking." Said a voice from behind Danny making them all jump...

So this kind of sucked...Grace I trust you to salvage this story tomorrow.

Gurl please. -Rose.

in which mercy butchers the round story

goodeveninggurlsitswednesdays imreadllysadandtired soimnotgonnatalkmuch imjustgonnastartwritingthestory soherewego thiswilldefinitelysuck  




When she looked down, she saw none other than--

"Jesse?" Becky said, squinting in the moonlight, staring down at the familiar figure.
"Becky! Get down here, pleeeeease?" her best friend begged, lowering his BB gun, a small pout tugging at his lips.
Becky gave a small laugh and pushed her hair behind her ear, "Why?" she asked, pulling at the sleeves of her hoodie.
"It's November 12th." Jesse said, raising his eyebrows up at her, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was to him.
Beck let out a low breath, her heart skipping a beat, "Oh. No, Jesse. Please don't make me do this." she said as a frown took over her face, crossing her arms nervously.
Jesse furrowed his eyebrows suddenly, hitting the side of his leg with his BB gun, "Becky, you're the only one who will actually do this.. please? I can't do it alone."
Becky sighed and looked out across the dark street, squinting into the distance, trying to make out the cemetery that was just across and down the street from her house. She hated what she about to agree to do, but she couldn't back out on Jesse. He was her best friend, at all.
"Okay, give me two seconds." Becky said, glancing down at him before withdrawing from the window, shutting it quickly and closing her curtains. She walked across her small room and grabbed some socks from her dresser, pulling them on, then sliding on a pair of slippers before walking out of her room. She was outside in her side yard, standing next to Jesse before she knew.
"Okay, lets just go and get this over with." She said softly, crossing her arms, a small frown on her face.
"Thanks." Jesse said, making a face at her before he turned on his heels and started walking away from her house, down towards the cemetery.
Becky rolled her eyes to herself before quickly rushing after him, keeping her arms crossed tightly across her chest, ducking her head down in the wind. She caught up to him and slowed her pace, taking a deep breath, "Jesse, you're only 17. You can't figure this all out on your own, you know." she said, for what felt like the millionth time.
Ever since Jesse's mother had been mysteriously killed when he was 11, he'd been trying to solve the murder on his own. And every year on November 12th, the day she died, Jesse went to her grave to try and find more evidence, or...  Becky wasn't really sure. He always had some ritual. She hated having to go with him, the whole thing kind of creeped her out.
Jesse turned to Becky, opening his mouth to say something, when suddnely....

stalk on, Rosie. the fowl sits. (im sorry i can't stop quoting much ado about nothing because every line will be stuck in my head forever. y'all need to come see it, by the way. we open the 13th and have shows the 14th, 19th, and 20th...I believe. idk. more information will be given out soonish) 

xoxo, 
mercy 

ITS THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN!!!!!

    GUESS WHO GOT TOO MUCH SLEEP LAST NIGHT AND HAD TWO CUPS OF COFFEE TODAY?????

that would be meeeeee (except I am not Blake Shelton. I'm about two feet to short and too far up north. Sorry to disappoint).

    I'm one of those little persons who thinks they can do anything and everything. So I tend to bite off more than I can chew, overstudy for exams, and drink too much coffee than is good for my small stature and fast metabolism. Yet I'm still surprised when I sit down for the first time at the end of the day and almost fall asleep, or get an insane caffeine rush after a single latte. I am the overachieving nursing student that your parents warned you about.

Ready to become a chihuahua with a license to stick needles in you. 

    As I am sure you are all aware, today is the start of NaShoStoWriMo, the 3rd annual round story writing event which takes place every November here on OTAS. This year, we wanted to go for a more haunting, ghost story sort of tale. So here goes nothing:

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT.

(I apologize, I'm horribly lame and incapable of starting off any ghost story without that phrase).

    The wind outside Becky's window howled like a football player with a stubbed toe. Becky sat huddled at the head of her bed, curled up in a quivering heap of fear. Today had not been a good day-the local trolls under the Toll Bridge had thrown bat droppings at her on her way home from school, and she had failed a calculus test on top of that. It was bad enough that Salem University only accepted students with the top math scores for their major in Accounting with a Concentration in Disappearing Leprechaun Gold. Becky had also informed her father that she was failing math, and had been read the riot act about how "McGunnigals don't fail math, we are born and bred to succeed at counting" and had been shouted over when she tried to explain that she just didn't feel like accounting was right for her- that she didn't even want to go to a magic school, that more than anything she wanted to attend UMass Lowell and study education to become a normal preschool teacher. But her father, Sir Ernest Michael McGunnigal XVII, would have nothing of it. "There are people who would kill to have The Sight you were born with," he barked. "You cannot be so willing to throw away your opportunities and become...normal." He had then shuddered, and sent her upstairs to review her calculus notes for the duration of the evening.

    But Becky was certainly not studying. As she sat atop her pillow, her head leaning against the bedpost in utter exhaustion, she thought again about how easy it would be to just leave- to climb down the rose trellis outside her bedroom window, sneak out through the garden gate, cross the stream and disappear into the woods until she reached the highway, with nothing but the clothes on her back and whatever she could stuff into her backpack.

    Becky was thrown out of her reverie rather suddenly, when a tapping on her window startled her back to reality. "It's just the old oak tree outside," she thought, but the tapping increased to the point where she thought that whatever it was would surely break the glass. Agitated, she jumped off her bed and hastened over to her window.

    Becky drew the drapes, pulled the shade up, and unlocked the window. Much to her surprise, what seemed to be hitting the window was a continuous stream of vibrant yellow BB gun pellets. When she looked down, she saw none other than--

    I am so sorry folks. This is all I have. Excuse me while I cram for pharmacology for the rest of forever. Mercy, please salvage this hot mess of a round story tomorrow.

--Laura :)