Is it my tig? Or yours? *is confused*

So this is my imagining of the country after the civil war, wherein the free states are created.



Doo be doo... You think I've got too much free time on my hands? Maybe?

Almost 2am, getting up around 9:30 tomorrow... and I can't sleep. So I decided to put my time to good use and get a bunch of pictures of the Animals together.

( Meet the ALF! )

Anyway, let me know what you think... Oh, and I like the changes you made to the last bit. It sounds much better. :)

At the unexpected touch, Billy was so shocked he forgot to close his eyes. Dom's lips, smooth and wet, salty from his tears, pressed gently against his. Tracks of wetness were still visible on his skin in the light of the dying embers. Dom had closed his eyes, eyelashes softly laying against his cheek. His hand came up and stroked Billy's jaw, rasping against the stubble.

Billy leaned into the kiss, surrendering. His mouth opened, and so did Dom's, and there was the briefest, cautious touch of tongues before withdrawing.

Billy had a fleeting sense of panicked guilt, that it was wrong to experience this pleasure and comfort when there was so much pain, so many dead or on their way to dying. He drew back the tiniest bit, breaking the kiss, but still close enough to feel Dom's warm breath ghosting against his mouth.

Dom opened his eyes then, the irises almost violet in the faint light, and guilt was replaced by sudden, overwhelming desire. Before Billy knew it, he was kissing Dom like it was the end of the world.

The wet heat of Dom's mouth drew him in, trapped him. Billy thought fleetingly of his words to Dom three days ago, there's a fire burning in you, before getting distracted by teeth nipping at his bottom lip, long fingers against his neck, Dom's hair in his hands.

When Dom shifted his weight, his whole body suddenly tensed and he broke off the kiss, hissing, "Ow, fuck."

"What's wrong, is it your shoulder?" Billy said, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

Dom nodded, biting his lip. "Damn it all to hell," he whispered.

Billy sat up and leaned over, checking the man's bandages. Dom's other hand came up and stroked Billy's spine, eliciting a shiver.

"Hey," Billy said gently, meeting the other man's eyes. "Quit distracting me."

Dom smiled, and the hand continued its steady progress, softly caressing Billy's back. Billy leaned in kissed him quickly on the lips, before turning his attention back to Dom's shoulder. He peeled the tape back cautiously.

"Looks like the wound reopened a little. Nothing to worry about," he said, seeing Dom's look of fear. He patted the bandages back in place, smoothing them down. "But we... we probably shouldn't, um, do anything more..." he said, half-hoping Dom would argue with him.

But the other man only sighed. "Can we lay back down together?"

Billy nodded, and then moved off of Dom, sliding back beneath the covers. Dom cuddled into the warm curve of Billy's body, tugging his hand closer and twining their fingers together. Billy cautiously laid a kiss against Dom's neck, smiling when the other man sighed happily, tightening his grip on Billy's fingers.

Billy shut his eyes, yawning, surprised at his sudden fatigue, then drifted off to sleep.

Okay. Here is the rough timeline I hammered out.

2009: Billy's uncle and his family emigrate to America from Scotland, and settle down in Seattle.

2010: Billy is born in Glasgow.

2011: Billy, about a year or so old, and his family emigrate to the US, settle down in the City.

2012: Washington and other states secede from the country. His uncle is publically executed by the Guard during the upheaval for treason.

2022: Billy's mother dies in some kind of violent tragedy (yeah, haven't fleshed that out to much).

2023: Billy's family is Third-Classed, on the basis of having one mediocre income and being related to separatist (Billy's uncle).

2024: Billy's father dies from a heart attack, about a year and a half after his mother is killed.

2024-2029: Billy and his sister live with their grandmother, scraping by on the meager insurance policy left from his father, his gran's small income, and whatever Billy can make working after school. When he's sixteen, he meets his first boyfriend, Harry. A year or so later, Harry is severely beaten by homophobes. Afterwards, Harry breaks off their relationship, not wanting suspiscion to fall on Billy and have the same thing happen to him.
When Billy's nineteen, he goes to the City University, where he meets Sean and Viggo.

2030: Billy goes to his first ALF meeting with Sean. He gets involved with them, as do Sean and Viggo. They begin their first bombings and arsons.

2031: The University is shut down by the government, ostensibly to work with the administration to create a more patriotic atmosphere, and less of a breeding ground for leftist thought. It is not reopened. Billy, Sean, and Viggo move into the city, continuing their work with the Animals. They encounter their first casualties as a direct consequence of one of their actions. Billy has nightmares. Sean attempts suicide. Viggo gets more distant and scary violent.

2033: When Bernard is killed in a raid, the Animals splinter. One faction (led by David, Karl, and Sean), stay in the city, continuing with the bombings and attacks, but also doing more community work. The others take off for the woods, led by Viggo.

2034: Billy's 24 or 25. He decides to return to the City after seven months. Sean is arrested, and publically executed. At the execution, Billy is arrested, taken to jail or whatever, meets Dom. And escapes.

What have you got for Dom?

Okay-
So here's what I've got for ideas on where this goes (and some more background info as well).

I think the Animals splinter at some point. Viggo gets scary and violent, and then kind of exiles himself from the city after Bernard (Coyote) is killed in a raid or something. He takes a faction of the Animals with him, including Billy, where they set up some kind of base outside the city (I want it to be in the woods, or something). Sean and others stay in the city, still doing bombings and stuff but also doing more humanitarian work (I'd pictured him setting up some kind of shelter or something).

Billy comes back to the city to get back in touch with Sean, David and Karl (Wolf), and the Elves as well. He gets arrested at Sean's hanging, and he meets Dom at the lockup. Then they escape. Or something. I pictured them making their way back to where Viggo and the other Animals (maybe some Elves too? I had planned on them sort of joining forces at some point, but I dunno...) and that's where all of my plot ideas end so far. Do you have anything?

Oh, and by the way, should we divvy up who has who? I'd like Elijah and Orlando for the elves, and possibly Cate.  I found a huge site of fairy names, which is great, and I'm looking for one for Elijah right now, and well as writing a Dom-center drabble including him.

K, this is just a little thing, me trying to get a feel for Dom. I kind of see him as a bit more optimistic than Bill, a little easier to let things be, and even though his life is shit, to just laugh and take the piss about it. So this is set while Bill's at his first year of uni, and it's a shot at a beginning for Dom. let me know what you think.

Elf eyes see far. We will find you when you’re ready.

The remaining States declared a national emergency and increased security. All American citizens are put into classes; First class is reserved for high-ranking government and army officials and those rich enough or influential enough to buy their way into the class. Second class citizens are the middle-class and other government workers, the police and the rest of the army. Third class are made up of workers, for the most part, unskilled, uneducated laborers and people working shit jobs. Fourth class are former prisoners, the chronically unemployed, and people suspected of being leftists. To qualify for welfare, you must be a fourth-class citizen, and also willing to work for long hours for smaller pay. Being classified as a fourth-class citizen is used as a punishment.

Billy had come home from school to a cold house, heavy with silence. His gran had been bustling around the kitchen, her movements sharper than usual. There was no music playing from the small I-Radio on the table, and the screen in the living room was dead. His father sat at the table, looking at his hands. It was like his Mum had died all over again, and for a moment, Billy couldn't breathe.

"Billy?"

"Yeah, Gran?"

"Go watch the telly. I'll have dinner ready in a while. Where's your sister?"

"She's at Bridgett's house, remember?"

"Good. That's good. Go watch the telly."

Billy had looked from his gran to his father's ashen face. He'd not seen Da look like that since Mum... but that hurt too much to think about. He felt the familiar ache return to the hollow place in his chest as he walked out of the room.

He hadn't planned on listening, had wanted to just tune out to the mindless noise coming from the feed, but something gnawed and worried at his heart. Billy had gotten up from the couch and stood closer to the doorway but still out of sight from his da and gran, who were talking in hushed voices in the kitchen.

"They told me to be thankful it wasn't Fourth Class they were giving me, what with my foreign birth and fuckin' Jack and all."

"Don't be cursing your brother's name. 'Twasn't his choice to be a martyr."

"It's his fault-"

"It's no-one's fault but the rat-arsed government and I'll hear no more on it. Curse them if you curse anyone." His gran's voice was sharp, though still quiet.

"Aye, and what good will it do? Might as well curse God for having a sick sense of humor."

Billy heard the sound of the freezer opened, and the bottle of whiskey being opened and poured into a glass. He winced; Da had been drinking too much since Mum died.

"I've failed them both. Billy and Maggie."

"Oh, shut it, William. That's a load of shite and you know it. You've failed no one, and I'm sick to death of you going on so. Both of them will still be able to go to college, try to get Second-Class jobs. You know how smart they both are. It's not the end of the world to be Third-Class."

Billy imagined that he could actually hear the determined set of her jaw when she spoke the next words.

"It just means a bit more work, is all."

Sean Bean, Viggo Mortensen, and Billy Boyd all met in their first year at the University. They become good friends, sharing a dorm and living together.

Billy was so wrapped up in Craig's kiss that he hadn't heard Viggo's footsteps coming down the hallway to their room. He and Craig were on the couch; he'd been atop Craig, grinding his hips down, shifting until their erections lay against one another. Craig's long arms had been around him, his hands slipping below the waistband of his jeans to the curve of hips and ass, pulling Billy tighter against his body.

The door banged open; Viggo had kicked it open, his hands full of art supplies. Billy and Craig remained in their position for one stupefied moment, Viggo open-mouthed and staring at the two of them. Then Billy leapt off Craig to the other side of the couch. Craig scrambled up, mumbling something about homework, grabbed his jacket and practically ran out the still-open door.

Viggo slowly closed the door and set the canvas and paints down on the floor nearby, then walked into the kitchen. Billy was frozen on the couch, hyper aware of his kiss-swollen lips, still wet with Craig's saliva. He dragged his sleeve across his mouth, quickly.

It would start now. The awkward silence whenever he entered the room. The stares and whispers. Sean and Viggo would request room changes, and no one would want to move in with him. Everyone would know. Eventually, the dean of students would call him into the office, to tell him they had heard rumors of inappropriate behavior surrounding his name, and after due consideration, had decided that Billy was perhaps not fit to be a student at the university.

He'd be sent back to his gran's house, a failure, his only hope at Second-Class citizenship, of supporting his remaining family, ruined because he couldn't keep it in his goddam pants.

He should have known better. He did know better, but it had been months since he'd even kissed a man and Craig's lips had just been so inviting that his brain had stopped thinking coherently. Had, in fact, stopped thinking entirely when, after that first kiss, Craig had pulled back, smiling beatifically, then cupped his hand to Billy's cheek and pulled him back again, his tongue hot and wet in Billy’s mouth.

"Oh fuck," was the only thing Billy said aloud, his head dropping into his palm.

All these thoughts ran through his head in the time that it took Viggo to walk to the kitchen, grab two beers, and walk back.

He could sense Viggo in front of him. It took Billy a few moments to gather enough courage to look up from the relative safety of his closed hands. One of the beers was being held out to him. He took it and popped the lid open. He didn't drink from it, nor did he look up as Viggo sat down on the couch next to him.

"Bill."

"...What, Viggo?"

And there was an awkward silence then. Billy bit his lip, waiting to hear Vig's next words. Some kind of veiled threat maybe, blackmail, or maybe he wouldn't say anything about it at all, just pretend it had never happened.

His jaw dropped when Viggo finally did speak.

"Will you kiss me, Billy?"

"Wh...what?" Billy had eventually stammered.

"Will you kiss me? I've always wondered..."

The word hung there. Billy searched his friend's eyes for some kind of trick. Would Viggo somehow use this against Billy later? But there was no lie, no subterfuge in Viggo's eye. Just curiosity, and a very innocent desire. Billy had implicitly trusted his roommate since he first met him. Maybe, this would turn out all right? Something he tried not to believe was hope eased a fraction of the tension in the pit of his stomach.

Billy leaned forward and kissed Viggo, softly, his mouth closed but not a brotherly kiss by any stretch of the imagination. He reached out and tentatively touched Viggo's scruffy cheek. Viggo smelled like oil paints, cheap beer, cigarettes, and summer.

It went on for a long time, a simple kiss, then Viggo sighed and pulled back. He licked his lips, staring into Billy‘s green, scared eyes, then leaned back into the couch and sipped his beer.

“I always wondered what it would be like to kiss a guy,” he said.

Billy gripped his beer until the aluminum dented beneath his fingers. “How was it?”

“It was nice. Different.” He took another sip of his beer, then added, “I’m not, y’know. I like girls mostly. Just wanted to see what it was like.”

“Oh,” Billy took a sip of his beer, then took a deep breath. “I am... y’know.”

“Queer?”

“Aye.” His gran’s accent taking over his voice again; it always did that when he was nervous or angry or upset, though he’d learned early on to talk without the brogue when he wasn’t around his family.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Viggo asked gently.

“How can you ask me that? If people knew I liked men, I’d probably get the shit kicked out of me. I could expelled from school. I’d be sent home. I might even get put into Fourth-Class or imprisoned. In case you hadn’t noticed, my sexual preference has been illegal for the last ten years.”

Viggo played with the tab on his beer can. “But, you can trust us, you know that, right? I don’t give a damn who you kiss or fuck or fall in love with.”

Billy looked his friend in the eye. “I didn’t know. I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Well, now you know.” Viggo made it sound as if that solved everything.

“What about Sean?”

“Ah, he’ll be kind of freaked for a minute or two, but he’ll come around. He definitely won’t spread rumors or tell the dean or anything like that. That’s just not his style. I’ll tell you what’ll happen; he’ll freak out kind of quietly and go away for a bit, think for a while, then come back and say ‘Bill, I just wanted you to know. It’s okay that you’re a homo.’”

Viggo’s voice and characterization of Sean was so accurate that Billy had to laugh.

In 2012, increased frequency of terrorist acts, coupled with several natural disasters (devastating earthquake in Los Angeles and Missisppi, hurricanes in the Gulf Coast and along the Eastern Seaboard, nasty tornado in Chicago), put the economy of the United States in a severe depression. Increased security eventually made state borders almost impossible to cross. Lines of supplies were cut, and certain states eventually seceded from the nation, while others joined Canada or Mexico, both of which offered more social and economic security than their close neighbor. The remaining army of the US was weakened by overseas wars and also by a widespread epidemic of desertion throughout the ranks after attempting to draft soldiers. Its strength was unable to overcome that of the individual states in addition to the armies of Canada or Mexico.

Billy could barely remember when part of Washington state seceded.

He hadn't understood any of the reasons why. What do three-year-olds know about massive national deficits and the rise of fascist laws and the value of the American dollar bottoming out and outrageously high taxes for the majority of the people?

He had watched it on the news, sitting in his da's lap, watching angry men talking on the screen (what his gran and mum still called a telly) knowing something was wrong because Da was squeezing Billy too tight without noticing. Later, he'd learned that one of the angry men had been his da's brother, the Uncle Jack he'd never known, who had moved to Washington instead of New York when the family had come over from Scotland. Billy's da had been scared for Uncle Jack, and rightly so because some time later, they received a telegram from Jack's widow, saying her husband had been killed at one of the protests they'd had in Seattle, trying to gather support for the secession movement.

He remembered this day much better. It had been the first time he'd seen his da drunk and his gran cry. It was also the first time he could remember seeing his parents shout at each other. His mum had tried to tell him a story about Uncle Jack dying from a heart attack, but his da had cut her off.

"Don't lie to him, for god's sake. I'll not have you giving him some fairy tale." Billy had been scared and about to cry.

His gran had saved him. She'd scooped him off the floor and bundled her grandson into her arms.

"It's your uncle, wee man." She'd always called him that. "Your uncle Jack was killed by some bad men because they didn't like the things he was saying."

"What was he saying, Gran?"

She had sighed, her warm breath ruffling his fine, gingery hair. "It's hard to explain, Billy."

But he had demanded an explanation. And no one but his gran had had the patience to provide one. She'd told him that the country was going through a rough patch, and that a lot of people were angry at the government for making things so bad. Some people in Washington, like Uncle Jack, thought it would be better for the people living there if they made their own country.

"Oh," he'd said. "Okay." And she'd hugged him and called him her good wee man.