The Worst Intentions (Larry)

1. Island of the Misfit Boy

A/N: Ladies & gents, we're gonna be doing a little time travel today; learn Lou's story. If you don't want any 'history lessons', here's your warning.

Please keep both hands & feet inside the magic telephone booth, be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes.

And I'd listen to the song if I were you. It describes how Lou's feeling. Sort of.

Dedication goes to: the most excellent xLouicidex

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-January 3rd, 1605-

I grimaced as I pulled my cloak closer to my body, trying to cling to the little warmth I could get from the thin material. I love my job more than anything, but at this moment - with teeth chattering and body aching from the constant shivers - it didn't seem very worth it. Everyday I risked catching a fever and dying by venturing out into these harsh, biting winds, just to spend a few hours rehearsing a play I already knew by heart. Having to carefully coordinate every move according to the muddy, snow-covered ground wasn't pleasant either.

Those are the thoughts that usually plague my mind every afternoon while I make my way over from my small home up until I've reached my destination; that being The Globe. It'd been built about five years ago and it was by far the largest building I'd ever seen, and probably will ever see.

Once in front of the marvelous theatre, I briefly struggled with pulling the heavy wooden door open then made my way inside, stopping and grinning when I saw a few mates already setting up the stage for tonight's practice.

"Aye, there he is! The star of the show!" Benjamin, a long time friend, bellowed from the center of the stage. "We thought the wind'd snatched you up or something!"

I let out a throaty chuckle, ignoring what I thought was a compliment, and unclasped my cloak from around my neck, setting it off to the side along with my gloves and hat.

"Nearly did, I'll have ya know. Almost lost me boot to the bloody snow as well," I said, putting on a serious face that lasted mere seconds. I then smiled, shaking my head in amusement as a few others began talking of their encounters with the ghastly weather, and traipsed up to the third floor to gather my costume.

Sparing the overly-stuffed room a quick glance, I pouted. "Esther!" I called, waiting only a moment before she popped out of nowhere, pudgy hands full of different colored cloths and mouth brimming with sewing needles. She raised a brow and hummed her acknowledgement, so I went on to ask my very important question. "I can't seem to find my ass-head. You've any idea where I put it?"

She paused for a moment, eyes narrowing as they darted around the area, before removing the pins from her mouth. "Not a clue."

I opened my mouth to respond, stopping when a third person entered the room.

"What're you doin', mate?" Benjamin wondered, eyeing us both as he sorted through a pile of doublets.

"Looking for my ass-head. Have you seen it?"

"No," He spoke slowly, eyes still on the bulky pile. "Can't say that I have." My shoulders sagged, and I prayed to the heavens that I hadn't lost a major part of my costume. Again. "You won't be needin' it till tomorrow anyways. We're only running lines up to act three today."

That brightened my slightly fowl mood. I straightened up and clasped my hands together with a grin. "Brilliant! I'm safe for one more day." He laughed, though it seemed sort of dry, while Esther clucked her tongue in disapproval.