Hero (me)
"All your questions, from now on, will be directed toward that man," Dante extended his hand and pointed a finger behind the group.
A well dressed male approached. He donned a black suit, complete with a blue tie, and exhumed an aura of confidence and comfort. His hair was graying, though showed a small sign of once being a blondish brown tint. A well rounded face, complete with a small beard, sat atop an average build of a man. "Dante," He flashed a clean smile, "you picked a horrible time to bring people here. Don't you know it's only seven in the morning? The rest of us do sleep you know." He stepped forward and extended his arm to shake the hands of all of the new faces, "My name is Tim, I'm one of the founders of Haven. Through the next few hours I will speak with each of you individually and find out what you can offer us. Do not worry though, we wouldn't dare turn our backs on healthy survivors."
Award: Best Tim written by Tim
naomii-x
"Hey Tim, sorry I'm home late. Bet you missed me didn't you?" Rosaline opened the cage and patted her hamster's fur gently. She refilled his food and looked up to see Jacob standing behind her. "That's Tim," Rosaline told him, pointing at the small, furry black ball, "he's my black bear hamster."
Award: Best use of Tim as an animal.
CabbyHat
"But in view of the circumstances, it's quite impossible," Timoteus chimed in from where he was lounging in the corner. Only members of the royal family were allowed to sit down in the presence of the king, but Timoteus managed to look more comfortable leaning against the wall than Dorem and Niko did in their luxurious leather chairs. Dorem constantly found himself suppressing the urge to have Timoteus whipped for insolence every time the man so much as opened his mouth.
(Tim/Timoteus was present through most of, if not all of, Cabby's novel)
Award: Best use of Tim as a major, re-occuring character
Karalianne
She bounced down the stairs and swung into the kitchen. Her parents were sitting at the kitchen table, and her ten-year old brother was staring into the fridge.
"Good morning, everyone," she sang cheerily. Her mother looked up from the paper and smiled.
"Morning, Sarah. Bacon's on the stove, ready for you. I didn't make your toast yet."
"Thanks, Mom." Sarah put two slices of bread in the toaster and pressed the button. She nibbled at the bacon as she waited for her toast. "Hey, Tim, get me some orange juice, hey?"
Her brother glanced up at her and she nearly teared up looking at his blue eyes and reddish hair. "None left. Apple juice okay?"
Sarah shrugged and turned to the toaster. "Sure, sounds good. Just get the fridge door closed, it's freezing in here!"
Silence.
Sarah could feel their eyes on her back. Without turning around, she continued, "how long have you had that door open, anyway? It wastes power, you know. You might want to think about that next time you decide to cool off the whole apartment single-handedly."
Her toast popped. She set it on a plate and got the margarine out of the fridge. She heard her mother shift the newspaper, and relaxed. They wouldn't catch her out this morning, at least.
After breakfast, the family got ready to leave the house. Sarah and Tim left together, racing each other down the stairs to see who could get to the lobby first. Tim always won, especially with Sarah's legs the way they were. She caught up with him at the door to the building, panting.
"You are too fast, man."
Tim grinned up at his sister. "Nah, I'm just normal. You're slow!"
"Yeah, I know, I know." Sarah sighed and pushed the door open. Tim followed her out into the crisp morning air.
"Hey, there's Aaron! I'm gonna walk with him today, okay? I'll see you after school, okay?"
"Sure, go for it."
Tim took off, and Sarah let out the harsh cough that had been sparked by the crisp coldness of the air. She stumbled along the sidewalk towards the bus stop, doing her best to control the hacking that threatened daily to send her back to the hospital.
Award: Best use of Iron Kite in the Tim competition
kjauchmuty
"Your 3 o'clock is here. Shall I show him in, Sir?"
"Yes, please do."
With that the heavy wrought iron and glass doors to his office swung silently open to admit a sashaying Tim, whose outfit today showcased a striking koala fur cummerbund complete with blue sequined detailing at the clasps.
Michael shook his head in amusement. Any other demon, less awesome than Tim, could not have pulled that off.
Award: Most original costume
BainAduial
"This may be more difficult than we realized," Terra offered mildly.
"We will learn," Chen returned.
"Yes," Twanet agreed. "We will learn. And more easily by doing."
"Pardon me," another stranger put in from the side of their table, "But I couldn't help hearing that you are new here, and I thought I might offer my services to answer any questions you might have."
The six companions turned as one to observe the newcomer. He was slightly unnerved by their intent, silent scrutiny, especially as they seemed to move in unison, but he didn't let it show. The inhabitants of this town were used to strange.
"What is your species?" Laren finally asked, gesturing him to sit down.
The newcomer raised an eyebrow. "We're known as gnomes, in the common speech here," he answered. "May I know yours as well? I thought I knew all eleven of the sentient species on sight."
They exchanged a six-way glance. "We are rather unique," Terra finally offered.
"Ah, mixed blood," the gnome nodded wisely. "Don't talk about it. Gotcha."
They filed this explanation away, and nodded. "What aid do you wish to offer us?" Laren asked kindly.
The gnome shrugged. "Any you need. My name's Tim. I'm part of the tourism bureau; my department consists of people who wander around town, helping locals and tourists alike when they look like they need assistance with something. Our function is to answer questions."
Award: Shortest non-animal/creature Tim
IanDaniel
Will held the door open for Paulo as they went inside. They asked directions from a bored volunteer at the front desk, who pointed them towards one of the meeting rooms. There were already about ten people sitting in a loose circle that was almost more of a cluster of chairs.
One of the guys (they were all male, except for one young woman sitting by herself and looking a little out of place) looked up at them with a smile. "Come on, take a seat and we'll get started." His name was Tim, Will remembered; he'd met him a few times while volunteering, although he'd had no idea that he was HIV positive. Will still didn't know; maybe they were just short on voluneer leaders, although he didn't remember being asked.
"Okay," said Time. "Since I only know a few of you, and I'm sure you don't all know eachother, let's go around and introduce ourselves. My name's Tim, and I'm a volunteer here at the Gay and Lesbian Center. I'm twenty-nine, I'm a payroll analyst, and I've been positive for three and a half years." Well, that answered Will's question. Tim turned to the person beside him expectantly.
"I'm Doug, I'm thirty-four, and I'm an architect. And I don't like to talk about... that, with people I don't know."
"Understandable," said Tim. And then to the rest of the room, "No one should feel like they have to leave their comfort zone." He nodded at the next person. They went around the room, people introducing themselves, some giving details about themselves and their HIV status, and some saying only their names.
Award: Least Tim-like Tim
E_Blackstone
Tim called one of the kids - kids in the sense that they were much younger than him - to tend the bar. As soon as it was covered, the hulking bar man with piercings all over his ears and face walked through the maze of tables on the main floor, everyone made way for him.
"Boss." He said a tiny, high pitched voice.
Many wondered why a big man, scary, tattooed and pierced all over, had a 'girly' voice. The few who noted this out loud had found their faces bashed in. It was no secret between them though, for he had been present when the wound that almost severed Tim's larynx was inflicted. It had been him who had pulled Tim away on time before his head was chopped off the rest of the body.
Award: Best big scary Tim with a girly voice
IronKite
As luck would have it I happened to spy lord Jayden Marcsun, a Lord whose territory borders my own, attempting to entertain a couple of Lords I didn't recognize with a story of some sort. I say 'attempting', because I've heard his stories before. Judging from the expression on the faces of the Lords he was speaking to, he was doing about his usual best.
I walked over.
"And so there he was, laying upon my prize winning roses, dazed from the fall he'd just experienced from my second story window, when I looked down upon him and I scowled, saying-"
"Why hullo Lord Marcsun!" I said winningly, in what might be considered an overly cheerful manner. "Why, isn't it about that time where you start reciting that dreadful story about the poor fellow who was attempting to steal his wedding necklace back from you? The one whom you bankrupted and forced into your employ as a gardener, to attend to your rose garden as punishment for intruding upon your keep?"
He looked up at the ceiling in frustration, momentarily nonplussed. That part was, of course, what he considered to be the dramatic ending for the story he was telling. It's true, I can be an inconsiderate bastard when it comes right down to it, but then again it wasn't much of a story. My way of seeing things was that I was returning the ten minutes of otherwise wasted life back to the poor, distraught Lords who had the unfortunate luck to have been cornered by my neighbor to the South, so it worked out about evenly as far as my karma was concerned.
I kept the fiercely innocent grin on my face as I waited for him to begin the inevitable tirade about courtly manners and my apparent lack of them (which I would also interrupt) to make its way slowly from Lord Marcsun's brain to his mouth. And then something unusual happened.
He smiled.
"Lord Tucat." he nodded to me, and then turning to face the two men he'd trapped in conversation, he said, "Lords." and walked towards the wine table.
Interesting. Unprecedented, even. I would have to ponder what it meant, exactly, him walking away like that. I gave the two Lords whom I had saved a quick nod of acknowledgment (one of them actually thanked me, I noted with amusement) before turning and looking around at the various other people who stood in the room with me, most of them chatting idly and sipping at their wine glasses. My eyes found Lord Cleaver, another of my neighbors to the South, who returned my look with a slight bow of the head. We made our way over to one another, and I took the opportunity to grab my own glass of wine, a slightly cheeky red.
"Vincent." he said.
"Tim. How are things?"
"Oh, they're well. You know, the usual stuff." He indicated Lord Marcsun with a gesture of his glass. "Still doing what you can to annoy bubble-britches I see."
I chuckled. "Well, it's not like it requires a lot of effort. Or thought, even. Besides, it's not as if we're ever going to be friends, or even cordial. First off, I'm not that good a liar yet. Second, of course, is the fact that I don't think he's ever going to forgive me for stealing his bed from his keep that one time."
"Right." he laughed, face splitting into a grin, "Maybe because he was trying to sleep in it at the time, and had a rather nasty start as a result of waking up in the street. Some people can be so sensitive about those sorts of things."
"True." I said dryly. "He seemed to take my interrupting his story with some small grace however. Who knows, maybe he's mellowed out."
"Ah." he said, "As to that... I think I can explain his reaction."
"Oh?"
"You," he said, casting his jovial good natured countenance aside in favor of a more serious, somber one, "have made someone upset, it would seem."
Deja-vu.
"Really? Upset someone? Me?"
"Truly, a remarkable thing, I know." he said with heavy irony. "However, in all fairness I figure I should warn you that this evening's entertainment may in fact be directed at you. Of course, one never knows who the target of such gatherings is until the trap's sprung, but if I had to guess I would say that you're the unfortunate fellow who will be hung out to dry tonight."
"Ah. And you presume that Marcsun's reaction to me is indication that he's become aware of this fact?"
"Or involved, yes. Just last evening I received word from a source that you were going to be targeted for some sort of small token theft of some sort, with the perpetrators requesting permission to stage it from Marcsun's territory where it borders yours."
Just like Theodore had been approached, it seemed. That was rather odd. Perhaps the ambitious Lord Teuring had foreseen some trouble getting cooperation from my neighbors and scouted out several possible staging areas.
"Last evening? Surely you could have warned me in time?"
"Fah, it was too late to try to arrange a meeting, and time was of the essence. What I did do was send a few of my knights out in suitable attire out into your territory on Marcsun's side, hoping to catch the thieves as they were making off with whatever had been stolen from you, so that I could return it to you with a minimum of fuss or embarrassment. I'm not above having the infamous Lord Tucat owe me a few favors."
"Or, you could have mugged the thieves and decided you possibly wanted to keep it for yourself, of course." I smiled.
"Heh. There was that possibility as well. When opportunity rings your door chime..." he said, shrugging slightly, "Alas, we saw nothing. In fact, it was so quiet last night that I had my doubts as to whether the burglary had taken place at all. However, judging from where we find ourselves this evening..."
"Yes, something was in fact stolen last night." I said, answering the unspoken question.
He nodded to himself, and then looked at me with eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You don't seem particularly bothered by this news."
"Thank you." I said, taking another sip of my wine.
"Ha!" he said, an eager smile lighting up his face. "I've always said that someone'd have to be snorting candle-ash to think they could get the better of you. What have you got planned?"
"Oh, let's not spoil the big surprise, shall we? I'm sure that our honored host will not want to keep us all waiting for his announcement, now that the dinner hour is upon us."
"Indeed. I look forward to being astounded by your sheer audacity momentarily." he said, and nodded a quick goodbye in order to continue mingling with some of the other guests, chuckling to himself as he did.
Award: Longest Tim excerpt posted
Nami
The only sound was the thudding of Meggie's boots running back and forth for a while. Then there was a slight knocking on the door. Before anyone could move to answer the sound, in burst Tim.
"Hey guys, just thought you should know that the guy you've been waiting for is here," Tim said casually. "Should I bring him in?"
"Sure, why not?" Otello replied, sitting up straight in the chair the way it was intended to be sat on.
"Finally!!" Meggie cried, and collapsed into her chair, her brown eyes shining in relief.
It was only a moment before Tim returned with another man in tow.
Award: Most random use of Tim in a human like role
Huushiita
When she opened her eyes, she was sitting near a fountain. The water poured out of a large stone elephant's trunk. Blue and green jewels adorned the elephant statue. The sound of the water always calmed her nerves, and she realized after a few moments that she was out of the dream scenario. She heaved a heavy sigh, and rubbed the sweat off her brow.
Toran was sitting right beside her. She knew without even looking.
He clapped his hands once, and a familiar figure quickly scurried up to him. 'Go fetch us a pitcher of water and two glasses,' he commanded in his soft voice. The thing obeyed him. Toran seemed to understand the fearful look Shi was giving him. 'That was indeed one of the shadows you saw in your earlier.. ah.. explorations.'
Shi absentmindedly leaned into him, and he brought up a hand to steady her. 'Does it have a name?'
'They all have been given names. That particular one is named Teem. I keep him close by as he seems to be the most faithful.' Toran saw the questionable glace. 'Yes, seems to be.' He softly chuckled. 'The shadows found in this realm were here long before I, and they are the true masters of this world. However, them being mortal, they can not truly oversee what needs to be done. It is unfortunate for they are quite intelligent. Even more so than I, I'm afraid. But they are made like the faeries, they can't quite be relied on. Tricksters they are by heart. They are forever playing tricks on me, proving to be quite irksome creatures. But still, they are handy in a pinch, and they do help keep balance.'
'Balance? All I've seen is horror here, and death.'
Award: Most faithful servant Tim
Xanateria
Tim, the same assistant who'd had the misfortune of answering the phone, opened the plane door.
"Sir, the head of emergency services and trauma is waiting as requested. A staging and sanitizing crew has been dispatched to the Rayven residence." He was speaking in rapid fire bursts that betrayed the slightest of nerves, but considering he had taken the brunt of Quinn's current stressors, that was to be expected.
"Good. I appreciate you being so on the ball. Now all I need you to do is plan a funeral. But no rush, you should have at least two days to finalize the details..."
"Yes, sir. I'll get on that right away," Tim answered, swallowing audibly. In other circumstances the panic on his face might have been funny. But not today.
Award: Most "on the ball" Tim
karoslane
I close my eyes and remember the words I typed for that contest. That contest that somebody read the posted entries for, and sent me an anonymous e-mail warning I would probably never win, because the man was always doing things like this. He was notorious for it. It was most like a voyeuristic view of a confessional; his getting the women to open up and spill. Likely so he could shop for his favourites. So he could be entertained and ego-fed by the clamouring for his attention. Maybe he'd even jerk off reading those words, for all I knew. More than likely. Snippets of the words I sacrificed come to me now, and I remember how earnestly it was that I tried to be different so that Tim's heartstrings would be appropriately tugged. Yeah, Tim got tugged all right, but not by the heartstrings I'd bet. Fucking weasel.
Award: Biggest Fucking Weasel Tim
Trevbo
Officer Timothy Greer walked through the house. It was familiar too him now, he had already run his men trhough it once for an entirely different crime, Arson, this time is was different. Greer was convinced it wasn't suicide, not because of any one aspect or angle, just a hunch. He couldn't believe that a man could burn down a house and let a woman almost die in cold blood, plus kill a child and his own wife, and then suddenly snap and kill himself. It didn't make sense, it didn't fit the profile.
Award: The only person to call me "Timothy" award... as far as I know... award.
Kerry Lind
I walked into the seedy motel in the middle of town, it wasn't the nicest of places but it was convenient for walking to and I really didn't have a choice, as it was where I had been sent.
At first I thought the office was empty, looking on the desk for a bell of some sort, I figured I'd wait patiently for a while - yawning and scratching my eyes some more - hoping if I passed out they'd just toss me in a room.
"Damn pen." A warm voice grumbled from the direction of the desk. I looked down and had to laugh. Crouching on his hands and knees under the desk was a man, not a tiny man either. He looked even while crouching under a desk to be more then six feet in height.
"Hello." I said, and laughed again when he looked up, smacking the top of his head on the underside of the desk.
"Oh, is that a marker lid by your feet?" He questioned me - easing himself backwards from under the desk, he stood up, brushing off his knees looked at me - holding forth a black marker as if it were a weapon of some sort. "I can't seem to find a lid that fits this."
Standing up he was even larger then I first thought. Easily six foot five, broad in shoulders and chest - stretched across he shoulders and chest was a T-shirt. A blindingly yellow T-shirt with writing on it.
BRINGING YOU THE AWESOME.
I raised an eyebrow at his shirt and looked down to my feet, next to my booted toe was indeed a black lid. I picked it up and dropped it on the desk, next to a dozen identical black lids.
"It's not one of these lids then?" I asked of him.
"No, none of these fit. I have tried them all. I'll find it." He nodded reassuringly to me, as if to comfort me, "You need a room then?"
"Indeed, thank you. One in a corner away from daytime noise would be nice, if you happen to have such a room."
Still holding onto the lidless marker, Mr. Awesome - as I could only assume his name was, nodded his head and took a key off a peg board behind him and handed it to me. "49 should work for you then." He had already returned to looking through his pile of black lids before I was out the office door.
--
When I got out into the hallway, Mr Awesome was outside my door. While casually leaning against the wall he was slowly shuffling through a cup in his hand, filled to the brim with black lids. Tossing each one to the ground when he'd concluded it was not the correct lid for his felt tip pen, which he now had pushed up behind his ear. Ears I'd not noticed before were pointed, and curved up - like small horns.
"Ah. My handler I assume?" I asked. Funny I'd not noticed he was demon before, looking down at his feet now - hooves I should say, I wondered how I missed it.
"Are you aware you have a binding on you to be obsessed with a lid for that marker?" I inquired of my demon handler.
The large demon looked up at me, looked at the cup of lids in his hand a nodded, grinning all the while as if it didn't worry him at all.
He went towards the door I'd just come out of he said some words in a language I was just beginning to learn myself, took the felt from behind his large curved ears that were not ears at all and wrote some runes on the edge of the door. A blinding line curved around the door and windows - sealing the room lightly. "She'll be safe for the next few days." He said to me.
"Me, I will be safe for the next few days." I growled at him. Me, I was not giving myself up. My soul and body were still one. No matter what control Satan had over me in this form for the time being.
"Fair enough." He nodded at me and reached out a hand, "I am Tim. Pleased to meet you. I suppose I will be showing you around for the next few days."
I took his hand, which was hot. A fire demon. I jotted that down in my memory in case it would be useful at some point and introduced myself, though he of course already knew who I was. "Wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, Tim. As you well know, I am Darian. So where are we off to first? I am famished, if we've time for that."
Tim frowned down at the now empty cup in his hand and kicked his hoof through the pile of lids at his feet. "Across the street is a comedy club. We can get something there and talk freely." He sighed and picked up all the lids, placing them back into the cup.
"An ex-girlfriend." He said to me, in explanation, nodding at the lids - and we walked across the street to the club. I tossed back my head and laughed as he began once again his cursed search though the lids. Bitter girlfriends can be a horrible thing.
"I suppose it's better then some things she could have done." I said to him
Tim, the demon look at me, "seventy five years. This will be going on seventy-five years that I've been looking for this lid. She holds a grudge for a long time, that one." Then he smiled a huge, wicked smile. "But worth it. Yup, she's totally worth it."
Award: BEST T-SHIRT SLOGAN
