head_psychic | Entries tagged with theatrical muse

Shawn wondered if the little red numbers of electrical alarm clocks had formed a union somewhere, a place where all the little 8s and 2s and 0s met to discuss the amout of hours late night insomniacs were allowed to watch them. He found it a very voyeuristic way of living and was glad he wasn't a digit. Although, being a neat, wonky 7...

( ... )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 586

so Gus and I took a plastic bag, the food processor and Mom's acid cream jars to mix a potion strong enough to save mankind from the deadly menace. At least we thought so, until the solid blob started making unholy, screeching noises, the bag with its contents growing, swelling over the Flames of Hell which we had summoned over our stove. It threw us for a loop of sheer, alchemic terror. We simply could not believe we had failed! What had we done wrong? Had we been too careless, too callow? Too blue-eyed about powers our young minds were not yet able to grasp? Had we just unleashed an even bigger threat upon humanity?

And how should we battle the evil forces without the pentacle of Estee Lauder?

As soon as we realized our shocking mistake we got a candle and tried to seal the first deadly wounds in the plastic fabric of our banning hex. Up to this day I do not know what happened then. We must have done something wrong with the magic seal we dropped on the bulging bizarreness, because as soon as the wax hit the thin fabric, the only thing separating us from the evil forces of hissing, gurgling demons, the barrier was torn apart like a teenage magazine in a puberty tantrum because they just posted yet another photo love story where your idol gets to make out with some unknown, ugly nobody.

The Charged Energy of Chaos and Destruction exploded, all over the

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 252

They stared, wide-eyed, consumed by shock and terror until Gus started leaving his side and heading for the door. Shawn noticed his friend's attempt to escape immediately because in the first moment of agonizing fear they had clung to each other, shaking with what they knew would be soon-to-come consequences. Now one of them fled the scene of crime and Shawn whirled around, the look of betrayal and anger evident on his face. "Gus!"

"I just remembered, I still need to do my homework, I gotta go..."

"You can't just go! You gotta help me clean this up!"

"Sorry, Shawn," Gus paused by the window, making sure Henry's squad car hadn't turned up yet and slipped outisde. "Good luck!"

"Gus? Gus!!"

His only answer was the banging door and a piece of ocher splatting on the ground.

Oh great.

So much for their brave attempt to turn yearn into the power source of the next generation. He figured Gus would never make much of a scientist.

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 166

Shawn bounced on his heels, the desk rattling slightly as he was leaning against it. Mrs. Mellory watched him expectantly, her polished nails holding on to a handbag smaller than Shawn's wallet. He looked at it in fascination. What was in there? What fit in there?

His eyes traveled upwards until he met her nervous gaze. She was always nervous. There was a reddish mark on her neck where she tended to scratch the skin.

Shawn smiled, she smiled back, averted his eyes. Where the hell was Gus? Shawn had everything planned, the trick dice, the marked straws, the stone-paper-scissors strategy. Gus was supposed to talk to her. And now he wasn't here.

( ... )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 446

"I'm telling you, that man was a genius!"

"And you are an idiot, Shawn. You cannot reduce Freud like that! That man has made important contributions to the world of-"

"Gus, all he talked about was sex. And given this definition his Freudian slips are nothing but a primeval version of your mom-jokes!"

Frustration. It fills the room and thickens the air like smog. "Freudian slips are not connected to your-mom-jokes! And not everything that happened before 1990 is primeval, Shawn!"

A smile. "I think I can call it primeval if it happened a millennium ago. And don't you know that common pun? A Freudian slip is like saying one thing, but meaning your mother. It's common knowledge, you just have to analyze it right!"

"That is no proof. You read that on Wikipedia! I'm not arguing with you over things you learned from Wikipedia! Media competence makes it important to use Wikipedia as a springboard, not an instance of utter sex! Truth!"

A beat. "What?"

"Truth!"

"You just said sex."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did! You said sex!" A grin, big and knowing and oh-so-smug. "I can sense Freud would have a field day now..."

There is grumbling and turning away. "Your mom."

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 205

"You cannot change the world! And when you figured that out you simply snapped, like a badly digested popsycle! I can see it so clearly now, yes... you wanted a world where you can decide what lies ahead, breaking free from this realm of grey skies of oppression but this is not the way! Snap out of it and face reality! The world doesn't work like this and your evil, bitter non-blitheness of black thoughts will not alter the world order that has kept this place running since the medieval ancient world! It will keep spinning, dancing in a cosmos ballroom with spiked star and milky way eggnog, hanging out in eternity with the continuus laziness of waiting for an interstellar prom date that never arrives! And we, we are merely visitors in this fun place of trees and roller coasters and smoothies. The world is perfect! Lay down your evil plan and just enjoy the simple perfection of how things are!"

"... shaddup, Shawn. You're not getting the last cookie this time."

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 172

Current Mood: content

1990

Being troublemakers Shawn knew exactly what Gus looked like after he had gotten into a fight. Or merely stumbled and fell. Or had been stuffed into a locker. Or had fallen yet again into the painful, overall category of bullying.

It didn't look anything like this today. Gus just stood there and plucked his stained shirt that looked like he had been chased around and fallen into a puddle of mud.

Or pushed.

( ... )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 653

Current Mood: infuriated

It is the most logical thing in the world to climb into Gus' bed. He can structure this decision, analyze it and back it up with enough evidence to make even his dad proud.

First, the couch, however comfortable, does something to his back that after a few days can be called nothing but 'slow replacement of internal bone structure'. So when he starts stretching all day long, accompanied by the soft, rhythmic cracks, he knows it is most likely time for a change.

( ... )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 410

1. Hair products. I ordered a special palette of free samples from all over the world and they should arrive at the office the day after tomorrow. My hair is in a serious holiday spirit!

2. The first official annual Santa Barbara spring welcoming ritual. Gus, we need bottles, dye, neon lights, paper and a subwoover.

This is how it works: We will fill the dye in the bottles - the bottles have to be transparent, none of that green glass, brown glass creepiness, we have to see them for they are the springbringers. The neon lights will be attached to the subwoover and the bottles will be put on top of them. Around the subwoover we put the paper and as soon as the music plays the bottles tumble over and paint pictures. It will be like reading tea leaves but gaudy!

Trust me, it will be awesome.

3. Headphones. They are the link to the imagination of your eardrum-awesomeness. Be nice to your ears and invest. Mine are custom and pineapple-shaped. The headphones, not the ears.

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 172

I've slept on many couches lately. And I do not imply that a lot of my relationships got to the point where I got kicked out of bed. I am talking road trip and hospitality here.

Couches tell the most amazing stories. You wouldn't believe the spiritual trace such a place of gathering and togetherness and spending time can leave. It was a very fulfilling and inspiring experience. Sometimes scratchy. But I preferred every single couch that was offered to me to any of the motel rooms.

Motel rooms don't have couches. I heard rumours stating the opposite but until I have seen it myself... what I am trying to say is that this proves how much a motel room lacks a soul. A couch is the soul of a house.

You eat on it. You sleep on it or take a nap. You read on it, you watch TV on it, you talk to friends on it. You do other stuff on it which I will not... detailize right now because you either know what I mean or you got a bigger problem than furniture. But there is no doubt: You'd be amazed by the positive energy of a couch.

I think I need to meditate on that matter further.

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 211

Current Mood: content

( Spoilers for 2x14 - Dis-Lodged )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 367

Current Mood: mischievous

"To be great is to be misunderstood."
- R.W. Emerson

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Shawn started tugging at his clothes. "Is that light? It should be earlier."

( ... )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 1,586

Current Mood: crazy

"There's enough sorrow in the world, isn't there, without trying to invent it."
E.M.Forster, A Room With A View.

( Possible spoiler for 2x12 - The Old and the Restless )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 933

Current Mood: depressed

What event do you wish you could have been a "fly on the wall" for?

I can't remember any situation like that. Whatever I wanted to find out I found out.

Well, maybe if I thought real hard about it I might find some situations where I didn't but I'm too busy getting all the TiVo recordings set right now. Besides, that question is a little irritating. I mean, me being psychic and everything? To me that question is like asking a deaf person "Do you wish you could see"?

Yes, exactly. Highly inappropriate. Insulting, almost.

I'm the moth on the wall. I do not only figure out anything I want but at the same time I can devour tasty clothes.

Well.

Only that in this particular case the clothes do not refer to actual clothes because that would be a little weird but they are more a metaphorical image of pictures that depict something really good which I can do while I can figure out anything I want.

Also, I really do like shiny lights.

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 161

Current Mood: relaxed

Shawn paused, relished the absolute silence around him, his face one of breathless astonishment before his eyes fluttered open again, dreamily fixed onto a nonexistent spot. "Four."

For the blink of an eye the silence remained. Or the time Lassiter needed to let his eyebrows creep up. Whatever took the shorter amount of time. "Four?" the Head Detective repeated, capable to put a more than admirable amount of sarcasm into a very short word. "This is it? You lie your way into this room, interrupt the lineup, mark our witness with a pen, flop around in this room and break a chair..."

"He didn't exactly break it," Gus cut in but was silenced by a murderous glare. "Just saying."

"... and this is what you come up with? Four?"

( ... )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 1,374

Current Mood: stressed

Sometimes the appropriate response to reality is to go insane.
Philip K. Dick

"You've heard about Kant, right?"

Stare.

"Immanuel Kant? The, uh, philosopher?"

Folded arms. Stare.

( ... )

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 637

Current Mood: crazy

Oh, seriously, there are loads of moments in which I have wished for just that, I don't even know where to start here! Alright, I'll just pick something random, let me think. Not Mexico, though. There are photos of Mexico, of course, but they are best kept out of sight, believe me. Besides, we just talked about a moment where no camera was there, right? Well, the thing about Mexico is, it's good that there was a camera because otherwise, dude, nobody would believe what we did there. Not that we did tell anyone what we did there (let alone show them the photos) but the point is I wouldn't believe it either if it wasn't for the photos. Okay, that is not true because it is all very present in my head (that is, up to a certain point that included too much alcohol and hula dancers - who knew they got hula dancers in Mexico? Sweet!) but Gus probably wouldn't believe it.

So, an example where I didn't have a camera... maybe the time when me and Gus were hanging out in the fire department. Or rather when we were hanging from the building the fire department used to train in. An old, totally creepy and torched brick building they used for the practise of rescue missions or roping. Well, I admit they did think I was experienced but I think they spotted their mistake when Gus asked politely to pull us up again. He only used the high pitched voice to trigger their well-conditioned siren alertness. But that would have been awesome pictures, dangling thirty feet in the air!

Gus, in case you're reading, I just had the best idea ever, next time we should totally attach a camera to our bellies and stick a mirror in front of it so it constantly keeps track of our facial expression! Of course we'd have to disable the photoflash first. Can you disable a photoflash? I'll leave my cell phone on, just give me a call when you get home! And bring some sticky tape!

Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 346