Odds and Ends

Oh yeah, and one more thing...

2009-11-12T06:27:30Z

It's my birthday at this point. (I was born at 12:15A)

I am now 31 years old.

...

...

Sheesh. I don't feel that old.

Shouldn't I, like, have the secret of the meaning of life or something by now?

Oh well.

*shakes noisemakers disinterestedly* Yay me.

Soundtrack +Just A Game+

2009-11-12T06:24:07Z

So, yeah...I updated Just A Game and Chapter 3: Closeted is now up. It's not the best thing I've written and I don't think it quite has the same hotness factor of the other two, but oh well.

You read and the judge if you're so inclined. In any case, I decided to do up a soundtrack journal for that fic so far...

Just A Game

Chapter 2, “Flying High”

Temptation, Diana Krall

I Know, Fiona Apple

Mine, Savage Garden

Baby Did A Bad, Bad, Thing, Chris Isaac

Slippage, Goldfrapp

Stripped, Depeche Mode

Querer, Cirque du Soleil

Freak on a Leash, Korn

When Doves Cry, (remake from Baz Lehrman's Romeo & Juliet)

[Can’t find...sorry!]

Prelude 12/21, AFI

Animals, Nickelback

Chapter 3 - “Closeted”

You Got Me Where You Want Me, The Southern Lights

Ring the Bell! Bang the Drum! (xposted)

2009-11-04T04:42:17Z

I am now officially an aunt. That's right, kiddies. My big bro is now a daddy.

I haven't met him (the new baby, I mean) yet, but little nephew was born at around 4 pm today, weighing in at a hefty 7 pounds 9 ounces and measuring about 51 inches (I could've gotten that wrong. Mom was tired and happy when she told me) and he has a mop of black hair.

Mom went and I stayed with my grandma at home, but she took pictures and a little bit of video through the glass partition into the hospital nursery. I melted. I'll admit it.

I go see him (and the proud daddy and momma) tomorrow.

*squee*

NaNo-Here We Go!*

2009-11-03T02:42:06Z

*I am really bad at rhyming...did I ever say that?

Yes...NaNoWriMo has started and I have taken off like a bullet!

...

...like a bullet stuck in the chamber, of course.

So, I thought I was going to be okay becuause three days shy of NaNo's beginning, I HAD AN IDEA! Yes! I had come up with a PLOT! (sortof) As close to having a plot as I ever get, anyway. And I knew what my characters wanted and what the initial conflict was going to be, so I thought...well! This is going to be CAKE.

Then...midnight, 11-01-09 came around.

And I got all of 159 words written before I stopped, realizing that I wasn't feeling it. So, I set that one aside and tried again. Same story, but a different approach, I thought.

I got 8 words. That's right. EIGHT.

So. I decided against that approach too.

Then, today at work, 1,169! "Woot!" I thought. This is it! This is the way to go!

And then I was driving home and thinking about what I'd written and I realized: nothing HAPPENS in what I wrote. WTH? I can't use THAT as a beginning!

But now, I am NOT dejected! No, siree! I read my welcome and pep emails! ("don't edit! don't self-edit! don't self-edit!") But I keep thinking that maybe this story idea isn't going to work out.

Now, I think I'm going to tweak it a little. Which means, I will have to edit those 1,169 pages to delete the reference to something in there and then write a prologue and I think I might be able to salvage this.

YES! I can do this!

Go, NANO!

This is Halloween

2009-10-31T18:12:07Z

Happy Halloween, everyone!

I hope y'all get lots of treats, and only the fun kind of tricks. ^_~.

p.s. Happy NaNo Month Eve to those of us crazy enough to take it on!

Rejoice!

2009-10-19T03:49:20Z

Readers of guardian_kysra and my collaborative fic, A Raven's Tale can now find the latest chapter up on Kysra's fanfic profile. Chapter 4: A Rose By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet

Yey!

^_^

Proof of Life

2009-10-17T01:14:34Z

Hi. I'm back. Well, sorta.

I've spent the last week repeating constant status updates, so if y'all will forgive me, I'll skip over the part where I detail every step of the process for the surgery I underwent on last Thursday.

Suffice it to say that I am fine and recovering as planned. I'm having to get used to new eating habits, but I think I'm doing well. Also, I'll be back to work on Monday, so I'm taking advantage of all the relax time as possible.

I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm doing good.

On the update front (the quickie version):

1. I haven't written a word (except to do a very quick edit to A Raven's Tale: Chapter 3).

2. I have yet to come up with a possible plot to write for NaNo.

Other than that -- nothing. So...um. Okay. Bye.

Hope everyone's doing well.

Sleep? Who needs sleep!?

2009-10-07T04:43:31Z

1. I've decided to sign up for NaNoWriMo. So, if anyone else (other than aileene and guardian_kysra who've I've already "buddied") is signing up this year, go ahead and friend me on there, will ya? Signed up as "emania". I'm mildly lonely over yonder. I'll write more on this later -- maybe Monday or so-- because I really can't decide on an original story idea to submit. Huhn.

2. Slightly more than 24 hours shy of life-changing matter I spoke about in my friend-locked journal a few days ago. And not enough hours to get everything done that I need to get done in order to prepare. *le hefty sigh* I'm in the middle of a project for my boss that needs to get done before end of business tomorrow and of course, not to mention both BB and BL have decided that there's certain research projects and edits that CANNOT wait until I get back and of course, we can't forget about my own cases...

Thank GOD that the other attorney for my hearing tomorrow filed for the Continuance. Hopefully, the Judge will grant it (even though I don't think he should, based on the law, really...) and I won't have to trek downtown in the middle of my VERY busy morning.

Y'all who know what I'm talking about...wish me luck, yeah?

I don't foresee any problems, but it can't hurt. ^_~.

p.s. As an aside: I am now officially certified as NOT CRAZY. ^_____^. And here I was, making assumptions. Best Friend said: "Maybe she missed something???"

Okay...back to work now. *hears whip crack in the background*

This is Miami...

2009-10-05T19:20:33Z

I had this conversation with my mother yesterday about how crazy it is that (1) we had weather up to the 103 range yesterday; (2) at the end of every beautiful sunny (HOT) day, we say one of two things: (a) "Well...at least it didn't rain!" or (b) "Damn that rain!"

This cartoon illustrates that concept PERFECTLY.

I now present: Miami -- in the Rainy Season. By Jim Morin.

Icon Meme!

2009-09-29T04:50:35Z

Glomped from jade_sabre_301.

Now, Jade did not have any instructions for this, so I just went ahead and used any of the icons I had -- including some that I made and some that I didn't make. I didn't note which were which on here (cause that would be entirely too much trouble) but the file names of the ones I didn't make say the name of who did make them.

If it really bothers whoever made the icon, I will either remove it or find some way of giving credit in the post. I do not, by any means intend to imply that ALL of these icons are my creations.

How do you feel right now?

What's your favourite pastime?

Do you consider yourself a strange person?

What's your favourite fandom?

OTP?

How do you describe yourself?

How do others describe you?

Do you have an icon of your future husband/wife?

or

Do you have an LOLWHUT icon?

Oh yeah...

2009-09-19T02:01:54Z

I almost forgot to tell y'all...

I updated Instinct 2: Impulse. You can find Chapter 9: Complications up on my fanfiction.net profile.

I hope y'all enjoy!

More Soundtracks -- The One-Shots Version

2009-09-17T13:39:29Z

Here are the songs that inspired/helped me write/feature in some of my one-shots.

(Oh, and one commercial...)

Soundtracks for One-Shots

Hot and Bothered

Blame It On The Mistletoe

Heavenly Peace

1.

Sleigh Ride

Go Meat!

That's All

1.

Just because I can...some classic funny.

2009-09-16T22:24:26Z

One of the funniest skit shows EVER...more consistently funny than just about any other skit commedy show I've ever seen...and I am including Monty Python's Flying Circus in that group.

This next one is an outtake, but their outtakes were funnier than the regular stuff...probably b/c since they were before a live audience, they just had to go with it, nine times outta ten. (Keep an eye on Eunice -- Carol Burnett's character -- next to him.)

I love Eunice and Mama, but Tim Conway takes the cake.

Probably the funniest of the Tim Conway / Harvey Corman sketches...keep an eye on Harvey Corman (the one on the chair).

"No Frills Airlines" -- we can certainly relate to this now-a-days.

So...um...I'm back!

2009-09-10T03:46:02Z

Yeah...got back from the beach house on Saturday, but it's taken me this long to get caught up on all the CRAP that accumulated since I was gone -- not to mention going and spending some time with the friends who I didn't get to see for a few weeks before I left, and oh yeah...have I mentioned I still haven't unpacked my bag?

(I also haven't put away the laundry I did the week before I left either, but it's safe and sound in the laundry basket...no need to disturb it just yet.) (you hush, Sandy.)

I just wanted to give y'all a bit of an update.

First: As I'm sure those of you who follow me on fanfiction.net might've noticed, I updated Stuff Like That There with the latest crack-tastic offering of one-shot crackiness, "Fur".

I'd also like to let y'all know (and I'm letting you know NOT ONLY because I've gotten a few gentle -- and not so gentle -- nudges lately about when I'm going to be updating such and such fic) that I am working on at least two of my chaptered fics. (You know people really want to read your stuff when they start finding new ways in which to remind you / ask you / threaten you to update -- no one had ever gone onto my dA account to ask me for an update before...) And might I say: I am verily honored that you guys like my stuff that much...

So...

I'm working on getting both Instinct 2's next chapter and, yes, Stupid Cupid's next chapter as well.

And as a bonus (because I think it's been so long since I posted anything for this fic that people have forgotten it) I'm also working on getting the next chapter of the lemony goodness (oh, alright, the lemony zest) that is Just A Game's next chapter up. I know I had originally said the next chapter would tackle the theme "The Gymnasium", but I changed that around and the next theme is now going to be, "The Closet" because I heard a song that just SCREAMED this fic to me, so I had to roll with it.

As a bit of a tease / spoiler, here's the song (or, one version of the song...it's been remade several times):

You Got Me Where You Want Me - The Southern Lights

Anyway...that's what I've been working on...

How are y'all?

p.s. Parasailing was awesome. Incredibly zen.

p.p.s. I was halfway through watching the Leverage season finale and totally missed the Glee premier! *sob* I guess I'll have to catch it online.

I know I CANNOT (repeat: CANNOT) miss the Bones season premier tomorrow.

What shows are you guys looking forward to?

Updates from the Beach House

2009-08-31T02:30:48Z

First full day at the beach house and I feel so very relaxed....

Here are a list of things I've accomplished:

1. I've found out there IS internet wireless service to this condo! (obviously)

2. I've made some decent headway on my tan. ('cause let's face it -- I was whiter than a nun's tit.)

3. I've finished a rough draft version of the next chapter of Instinct 2. (Weren't expecting that were ya???)

4. I'm going PARASAILING on Wednesday. I'll be going up 1200 feet: the furthest up I can go. (Well...at least, I've made my reservation to go parasailing...I don't think I'll chicken out before the time...) Stepdad's going to be doing it with me. Wheeee! SOoooo excited!

5. Um...there is no five. (this is a vacation, remember?!?!)

So yeah...we'll see how the week progresses (and hopefully no emergencies will come up at work.)

+DEFUNCT SERIES: Untitled (Samourai Champloo/ Rouroni Kenshin xover)+

2009-08-25T00:48:51Z

I've always wanted to do a crossover -- one day, this idea came to me. Mind, although I've seen the entire Samourai Champloo series, I've only seen the first season or so of Rouroni Kenshin so there are bound to be inaccuracies.

The Setup(Open with dark night, kinda windy, Kaoru, is getting ready for bed, she notes how it’ll probably rain and hopes Yahiko remembered to close the windows in the dojo.

Yahiko, meanwhile, is running from his room to go to the dojo b/c he forgot to close the windows and is thinking that Kaoru will KILL HIM if the mats get wet from rain – again. He goes to the door that leads outside to go to the dojo, flings it open, and STOPS. In the yard, there’s shapes – two men, one tall in hakama and one shorter in geta, carrying a bundle in his arms.

Yahiko curses the fact he didn’t bring his wooden sword with him and wonders if he can make it back to get the sword before the two notice him, but before he can move, the silhouette of the two in the yard turn to look at him and he is much clearer to them framed by the light from inside in the doorway than they are to him, but when the tall one turns, he can see the long blade of a sword hanging from the man’s hip.

What’s written:

“What do you want?” Yahiko called out, his tone about as threatening as a young boy’s voice could get with a heavy dose of offense thrown in for good measure.

“About time you opened up the door ya—“ the shorter started in a rough, gravelly and definitely unfriendly voice, only to be stopped by a slap across the shoulder from the tall one.

“We seek the master or mistress of the house,” his voice was smooth and cultured, the way that Kenshin’s voice could be sometimes and Yahiko paused to think for a moment before telling them to scram.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Yahiko asked. “We’re closed – come back tomorrow.”

“Hell we will!” the shorter one declared.

“Well, you’re not going to see—“ Yahiko started, almost subconsciously going into his first defensive stance.

“I’m Kamiya Kaoru,” Kaoru spoke, coming up alongside Yahiko, silent on her bare feet. She put a hand on Yahiko’s shoulder to warn him to be still. “I am the mistress of this dojo, but Yahiko is right, it is late, and we are closed.”

“We need your help,” the taller one spoke before the shorter one could. “We’re not looking for lessons –“

“—damn straight,” the shorter scoffed, only half under his breath.

The taller one went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Our friend is sick, and cannot spend the night outside with a storm coming, we need shelter, nothing more.”

Kaoru felt the man was sincere, and not only because his proud and still silhouette reminded her so much of her father. “Come closer into the light,” she bid, pushing the door open to widen the light that spread before them.

With a look, both men stepped forward to reveal the bundle the shorter man carried was a delicate and frail looking girl with brown hair and a pink kimono, unconscious in his arms.

Kaoru gasped and the tall man lowered onto his knees. “We have no money to pay you, but all we need is shelter, you will not even know we’re there –“

“Kaoru-“ Yahiko started to warn, but to no avail: Kaoru had overlooked the fact the tall man was obviously ronin, the shorter man exuded wildness and danger, and was already stepping onto the wooden porch, heedless of her bare feet and motioning them to step closer to the house.

“Get up,” she told the tall one impatiently. “Just come on,” she said urgently as the tall one stood. “Get her inside quickly!”

The two strangers looked at each other once before as if in unison, stepping toward the house.

“Yahiko, go fetch Megumi-san!” Kaoru ordered.

“But…” Yahiko started to protest.

“Go! Quickly!” Kaoru’s voice brooked no argument and with one last glance at the men, stepped forward into the night, hurrying toward the town and the house of the doctor.

“You can call your dog off now,” the shorter one said as they stepped onto the porch. “We’re not going ta hurt ya.”

“My--?” Kaoru wondered, then remembered.

“Kenshin, come out of wherever you are and get to starting a fire in the spare room!” she demanded, clearly annoyed.

From behind a column of the house, the red-headed ex-manslayer stepped into the light. They stared at each other for a moment, recognizing what each other was capable of in the way only a true warrior would be able to, by plain sight. And then, seemingly out of the blue, Kenshin smiled widely and scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“Welcome to Kamiya Dojo!” he said brightly. “I’ll go get that fire started then!” and hurried through the door and around a bend in the hallway.

The two strangers looked baffled until Kaoru’s annoyed huff reminded them where they were and why they were there.

“Well, do you want her to die of exposure?” Kaoru asked.

“Weird…” the shorter one mumbled.

Hearing him, Kaoru glared. “I don’t have to let you in to get her inside and healed, do I?”

The short one glared at her back and opened his mouth, but suddenly the tall one was in the way. “I am Jin,” he introduced. “This is Mugen and Fuu is in his arms.” He bowed, every move utter politeness. “Please lead the way.”

Kaoru smiled self-consciously and turned around. “This way…” and walked hurriedly to the guest room where Kenshin had not only started a fire, but had also laid out a futon and blankets.

**************

The doctor, a woman much to their surprise, arrived much quicker than they would have thought, and the role of spokesperson naturally falling to Jin since Fuu was out of commission and Mugen would get them kicked out, thanked Kamiya Kaoru for her kindness in summoning for one, just before the doctor politely kicked them out of the room where she was tending Fuu.

Characteristically, both men were silent as they waited outside, seemingly idle in their observation of the rain that had already begun to fall.

They both heard the soft patter of a light step on the worn wooden porch, but only Jin turned to watch as the mistress of the dojo approached, a tray in her hands.

When she got there, she placed it between the two men and smiled. “You looked like you could use this,” she told them, motioning the tray. “I’ve prepared the room next to your friend’s when you’re ready to rest – Megumi will be staying with Fuu until her fever breaks, but she says she is hopeful that she will respond well to the medicine.”

Kaoru watched as they both looked at the cups of tea and bowls of re-heated soup as if wondering if they were hungry or not and she smiled softly. “Megumi really is a wonderful doctor,” she said into their silence. “You have nothing to worry about,” she assured them. “But you should rest yourselves –“ she said, her tone hardening into the one she used on her students. “You’ll be no good to help Fuu recover once the fever breaks if you’re both exhausted and starved yourselves.”

And with no further word, she turned around and walked away.

+DEFUNCT SERIES: Her Mother's Grace+ (Labyrinth)

2009-08-16T20:16:32Z

So...yeah. Next in the DEFUNCT Series is my one and only ever written Labyrinth story. And yes, it has a sort of Outside character, although not really.

I should warn y'all that although I did read a few of the Labyrinth fanfics out there, I didn't really read many of them, so I'm very unfamiliar with the established "rules" of the fandom. I just kind of wrote this scene to get it out of my head and then it kind of petered out.

I know there's all sorts of discrepancies with the information provided and disseminated from the fandom as to what Sara's mother's name is, etc. I wanted to do this with her, so forgive the inconsistencies, yeah?

Other than that...hope you enjoy! This is definitely another that I don't think will ever be finished.

Her Mother’s Grace
A Prologue

He was always cautious when he approached her even though he didn't exactly know why. Perhaps 'cautious' wasn't exactly the right word, it wasn't as if he feared her by any stretch of the imagination, but he did respect her for some reason it was beyond him to fathom.

It was because of that respect she commanded with her mere presence that he, a King in his own right, approached her light footed and silent, as if unwilling to disturb the peace she had found within the confines of her book.

In the soft light that hit the gardens on this side of the castle, she looked years younger than she had been even when she first came to him. When he was not careful, it startled him, the resemblance.

Normally, he waited for her to notice him, but he knew she would want to be disturbed today, so he let his boot scrape the terra cotta ground. As he thought, the sound immediately drew her attention.

Her expression as soon as she looked up was pure panic. After several years, however, she could read his face as well as any of his advisors and as soon as she looked at his face, her expression changed from panic to relief. Her hand came to her mouth as she gasped in relief, tears glinting at the corner of her beautiful dark eyes.

“She made it,” she breathed.

“It never ceases to amaze me, my dear, how adept you are at reading my moods.”

She paid his words absolutely no heed, however, and smiled in pure joy. “I knew she would make it, I knew it,” she enthused.

“Yes,” he leaned casually against one of the pillars holding up the roof. “Your faith was well placed,” he allowed, his air of amused superiority never fading.

She smiled at him the way she did whenever she beat him at a game, the relief still there in the brilliance of her eyes and the edge of natural warmth in her smile. “No amount of sarcasm, my King, will distract me from remembering that you have lost our wager,” she reminded him.

He folded his arms against his chest and crossed his legs at the ankles, cocking his head to the side as he regarded her, “Did we have a wager, my lady Elizabeth?”

Happy in her victory, she approached him smoothly, the long sleeves of her gown billowing behind her as she walked, “Do not play coy with me, my liege, you well remember our wager.” She pretended to think about it for a moment, “It was during the fourth hour, I believe when you came to me right in this garden and told me how disappointed you were that Sarah spent all that time whining about fairness and how certain you were she would give up before the tenth hour even.”

Jareth, King of the Goblins, lowered his head as he remembered the conversation in question. “I remember,” he said, all teasing gone from his tone.

Still, she went on, “I was generous and did not claim my prize when she not only persevered through the tenth hour, but found allies within your own realm.”

He nodded and met her eyes, “And I thank you for your generosity.”

“But she has made it,” she continued. “She is back Aboveground,” she smiled so brightly it would light up a room, “Correct?” Jareth looked at her and there was a moment when she faltered, “Isn't she?” she asked, the smile slipping from her lips, “Jareth?” she asked.

For a moment, Jareth didn't answer. He looked away and only someone as astute and generally empathic as the lady before him could see the hesitation in his answer, “She is.”

Lady Elizabeth exhaled in relief. “For a moment there I thought...” she trailed off.

“That I offered her the world?” he interrupted.

Elizabeth's relief turned to shrewd observation, “She turned you down?”

Jareth smiled, but it wasn't exactly a happy one, “She did.”

The Lady Elizabeth had not garnered her role as one of Jareth's most trusted advisers for her pretty face alone. She was not only rather adept at reading others, she knew how to read her King. “She is not the first to do so, although it is rare.”

Jareth knew he didn't have to answer for Lady Elizabeth knew of the challengers to his Labyrinth before and during her time.

A few more moments passed and finally, Jareth pushed away from the pillar, and without another word, started to walk out of the gardens, leaving her alone.

“She is special, isn't she?” Elizabeth called after him, all too casually.

Jareth stopped and turned his upper torso to look at her. “Well,” he started, his face a perfect mask of emotionlessness, “She is your daughter.”

With mocking grace, Lady Elizabeth, formerly Eilis daughter of Eadaoin, curtsied to her King.

Chapter 1

3 Years Later

It was the heart-rending tears that drew him to her. These were not normal tears born from an insensitive word, or a carelessly inflicted wound. These were tears carried from the deepest part of the heart to spill onto pale cheeks. He ached for her sorrow and gave up his concealment with barely a thought to the consequences.

“Sarah,” he breathed, his voice carrying into the room and startling her so that the tears stopped. He watched her stiffen, and felt the doubt creep down her spine, and finally, with a fresh wave of pain, knew she had given in to the logic that he could not have spoken, that she must have been mistaken.

“Sarah, why do you cry?”

She looked up, fresh tears on her eyelashes and looked right at his image, shining ethereal in her looking glass. “Jareth?” she whispered, uncertain. She blinked and the tears fell from her eyes, she wiped at them as if to clear her sight.

“Yes, Sarah,” he confirmed.

Instantly, she was wary and stood away from the mirror. “What do you want?”

He smiled. “You called to me with your weeping.”

“I did not,” she was obviously affronted, and although the sadness did not leave her entirely, it was pushed back with the new predicament.

“Did you think your friends Hogsbreath and Diddymos and Ludo were the only ones who could see you through the mirror, Sarah?” he asked, not unkindly.

“I did not call you,” she insisted rather than answer his question.

“Your heart did, then,” he waved the particulars off. “Why do you cry?” he repeated.

She turned her back on the mirror and he saw the pain sweep down on her once again. “Why do you care?” she asked. “Just go away.”

“I cannot,” he admitted. “You called me, and now I must hear what you would of me.”

She turned. “Is this another of your games?”

He laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “Games?” he mused. “Yes, I suppose you would call it thus.” His image shrugged regally, the cape shifting as he did. “You called me – why do you cry?”

She seemed to recall with what world she was dealing and tried to summon as much of her sense of the fae world as she could. “I release you from my call.”

He chuckled. “Lovely, Sarah, you would make an excellent Queen in a Fairy Story, but I’m afraid that does not work quite as well in the Underground.”

“I thought you were out of my life for good when I beat the Labyrinth,” she shot suddenly. “Why do I have the ability to call you, anyway?”

“Unfortunately, it does not work quite that way, either,” he admitted, but explained no more. “If you wish me gone, tell me what troubles you. The sooner I can do what I need do, the sooner I will be gone.”

Sarah looked at him sadly. “You can’t do anything about why I’m crying, so…”

“Allow me to be the judge of that,” he insisted. “You do not know half of what I can do, after all.”

“Fine!” she said angrily, the tears coming once again to her eyes. “I am graduating tomorrow and my mother will not be there,” she said. “You want to know why I’m crying?” she asked like a challenge. “I’m crying because I want my mother – my real mother!”

Jareth laughed. “Is that all?” he asked.

“Jareth, stop!” she demanded before he could move. “I don’t want you to bring her here against her will! I want to know if she would pick me beyond anything else, of her own will, do you understand?”

Jareth’s expression changed, became almost pitying. “I do,” he conceded. “And she does,” he assured her. “She wishes very much to see you, and has always thought of nothing but your well-being.”

“Bullshit,” Sarah spat. “My mother has never chosen me above anything that she wanted for herself.”

“Your real mother has,” he said softly.

Sarah sighed, her eyes sad once again. “I wish I could know that to be true.”

Jareth smiled and for the first time since his appearance in the mirror, Sarah recognized the face of the Goblin King who faced her outside the gates of the Labyrinth and frightened her yet excited her in the tunnels beneath. “Wish…granted,” he said with an air of finality Sarah recognized as trouble.

She had approximately two seconds to brace herself before the non-existent wind picked up and she felt a hand clasp onto her wrist. When it died down, it was to find herself standing in what appeared to be a throne room.

At her side, Jareth smirked at her. “Welcome back, Sarah.”

Sarah looked around herself, noticed the few goblins working about, and felt panic dawn. “What have you done?” she asked, although no one, not even the goblin cleaning out the staircase, could decide if she was talking to the King or herself.

+DEFUNCT SERIES: Not Alone+ (Ouran - Kyouya/Haruhi)

2009-08-15T04:57:08Z

Since I already posted some Ouran fic I had worked on as a response (the fulfillment of a promise, really) to jade_sabre_301, I figured I'd continue on with the newly established "DEFUNCT" (an acronym for DO not EXPECT fic to be FINISHED UNLESS NEW inspiration to CONTINUE TAKES hold) Series by posting one of my favorite Kyouya/Haruhi pieces I did.

It is tentatively (and rather UN creatively titled, "Not Alone") and is based/inspired by the song, Now Comes the Night by Rob Thomas.

Second Note: crabbieabbie helped me develop this ALOT. All I had when I heard the song was the bit near the end- one scene between Kyouya and Haruhi and she helped me develop what gets them there, so (as always) I owe her a load of gratitude.

Final note: Remember that this is incomplete. You will see a few notes to myself (usually between brackets like this: [ ] ) Feel free to offer suggestions, corrections, discussions. All are welcome. ^_^

+~+~+~+

“Kyouya-Sempai,” she made his name half question and half welcome and he knew her enough by now to understand what was left unsaid.

“Ranka-san asked me to come tonight,” he paused as she stepped aside and he walked into her small apartment. His eyes caught the neon of the digital clock. “I am a bit early,” he admitted. “I miscalculated traffic.”

Haruhi half-smiled at him. “You miscalculated?” she teased, taking his coat and hanging it carefully in the closet.

“Traffic is notoriously difficult to calculate any closer than within three-tenths of an hour,” he answered seriously, as if he hadn’t picked up on her tone. He met her eyes and read her look of disbelief. “I could come back.”

She disregarded that last sentence as if it hadn’t been uttered. “I’ll put on the tea,” she spoke as she walked to the kitchen area. “Father should be leaving work in another twenty minutes or so – he’s not closing today, just his shift.”

Kyouya followed her into the kitchen, glancing at the books open on the table where she had obviously been studying. He recognized the work, of course, after merely glancing at a few lines. He picked it up and thumbed through the pages, eyes catching on the neat print and highlights Haruhi had added.

“Western Politics,” Haruhi offered as she turned to find him with her book in his hand.

“They teach Machiavelli’s The Prince in Class 2A Western Politics?” he asked, surprised.

“It’s not on the required reading list, no,” Haruhi admitted. “It was mentioned in a treatise we were made to read, and I was curious.”

Kyouya smirked as she went back to finding the tea things. “And what do you think?”

Haruhi paused as she thought. “He reminds me of you, actually.”

Kyouya blinked, the smirk falling from his lips. “Is that so?” he asked.

Heedless of his tone, Haruhi continued. “He’s obviously brilliant, but he isn’t satisfied with that.”

Kyouya paused, wondering what to respond to something like that. He always knew Haruhi was bluntly honest, and he knew she called him the Shadow King of the Host Club, but it had never occurred to him to wonder how she might see him.

She continued as she scavenged for cups in her cupboards. “I don’t think he’s realized that it’s the nature of the world that there will always be someone smarter, faster, more paranoid than you somewhere out there and you can’t protect against all of it all the time.”

“And that reminds you of me?” Kyouya asked.

Haruhi turned, victorious with two mismatched cups in her hands. “The power-hungry bit does, the kind of brilliance that can play many different games at the same time and beat them all while making it look effortless,” she answered, guileless. “I don’t think you’re at the level of paranoia he seems to have been when he wrote this book.”

When it seemed he wasn’t going to ask her anything further, she turned back to the kettle as it began to whistle on the stove.

She was just handing him the purple cup with the dinosaurs on it when the phone rang.

There was a mumbled apology and an ‘excuse me’ as she went for the old phone hanging on the wall just inside the kitchen, and he thought he caught the slight shift of worry behind her eyes, but then she turned away and toward the kitchen for some unconscious semblance of privacy as she answered with the typical greeting.

It took not fifteen seconds before he could read that something was wrong in the utterly frozen countenance of Haruhi’s face.

His hands were suddenly and unaccountably unsteady as he placed the cup on the table and stood, unabashed in his approach to better hear.

He didn’t bother asking her stupid questions while her attention was so very obviously overtaken by the conversation on the phone, only neared enough to hear for himself, wishing he knew of another extension in the tiny apartment and wondering if he should try to find out when the voice on the other side of the line came through into the stillness of the kitchen loud and clear.

Some hysterical okama was screaming that Haruhi needed to rush rush to the hospital, that Ranka-san was in dire surgery, babbling the name and address the paramedics had given him before rushing off, and hanging up in despair before Haruhi could utter a single word.

Haruhi didn’t even glance at him as she placed the phone back on the cradle, her movements stiff and careful and for a moment, he wondered if she would crack open like a shell or one of those statues made of ice, like the one of the swan he had stuck a fork in when he was five to see what would happen.

“Haruhi.”

He repeated it three times before with a visible shake, Haruhi snapped to attention and began moving. She reached for the phone again, then stopped, looking at him, but not like she was really registering he was still there. “I don’t know the name of the taxi service,” she tells him, her voice blank and almost calm if not for the slight tremor he caught in the undertone.

“I need to get to the hospital, Kyouya-sempai,” she told him. “I apologize, we’ll have to—“

He cut her off by grabbing her wrist in his firm grip, placing the phone back on its cradle and leading her out of the house. “I will drive you,” he told her in that voice she knew she could not argue with.

She nodded instead and let him lead her outside, down the stairs and into the black town car waiting for him on the curb.

Suddenly waking from her daze again once the car started to move, Haruhi snapped her attention to him. “He’s at Ho—“ she started, but again, Kyouya cut her off.

“I know it,” he told her. “It’s an Ohtori hospital,” he explained.

“Ah,” she said, turning dazedly toward the window. “Then he’s in good hands.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Kyouya said as he flipped his cell phone open, but he didn’t think she heard.

+~+~+~

Through her daze, Haruhi heard words she recognized come from Kyouya, knew she was being taken by him to her father, but didn’t know what to expect. The last time she had been in a hospital in a similar situation was too many years ago and she’d been holding her father’s hand then – hadn’t needed to worry about any details then, she’d had him to hold on to, to let take care of the details such as getting them there, worrying about what would happen once they were there.

She felt so cold suddenly and thought about asking Kyouya to turn off the air conditioning unit inside the car, wondered if she shouldn’t have grabbed a jacket, the hospital might be cold—

“Fujioka Ryoji.”

Kyouya’s voice, her father’s name and she felt her heart constrict.

“Status?” Kyouya said in that voice Haruhi heard rarely, so businesslike and cold. “I am bringing the daughter,” he informed whoever was on the other end of the line. “Yes,” he answered briskly. “Well, call him.” Another pause. “I’m counting on you,” he said in that way that made the words sound ominous and pregnant with meaning should the listener fail to live up to Ohtori Kyouya’s expectations. Haruhi felt comforted.

If Kyouya-sempai was counting on whoever it was, her father was certainly in good hands.

Haruhi heard the snap of the cell phone and glanced at him, but she didn’t need to ask him what he’d learned, the look of frustration on his face was clear enough.

“He is still in surgery,” he offered, without bothering her with the details since she obviously didn’t want to know them.

Haruhi nodded, once, and was distracted by the warmth she felt on her wrist, noting for the first time, that Kyouya’s long fingers were still firmly around it.

She noticed it with a detached air, and as she didn’t mind it, looked back through the tinted window at the speed with which they were passing familiar scenery.

+~+~+~+~+

By the time she found herself sitting in the drab blue and gray surgery lounge, the smell of slightly burnt coffee coloring the stink of disinfectant in the stale air, she had moved past numb.

The stern, persistent sound of Kyouya’s voice volleying against that of the head nurse buzzed around her, only making her more anxious, more desperate to see him.

She didn’t care what the nurse said or what news she had to offer. She was remembering the other time she was in a hospital unexpectedly, remembered the nurse telling her everything would be alright, and how nothing ever was again and knew she couldn’t trust what the nurse had to say, no matter how Kyouya harassed her.

She needed to see him.

And still, despite her lack of interest in listening to the nurse’s information, they gave Ohtori Kyouya more information than they would ever give her and she couldn’t help but catch snatches of information anyway.

“…collapsed…pain…abdominal area…heavy drinker…liver…suspected cirrhosis…corrective…”

She needed to see him. She had to see her father.

She hadn’t seen her mother, had lost her before she could even say goodbye, had fallen asleep on the couch, so like the one she was on then, and when she’d woken, it had all been over.

Gone.

She needed to see him. She couldn’t (she should have taken better care of him) lose him.

Not him too.

Kyouya said nothing as he approached, he could read it on her face that she’d heard enough.

+~+~+~+~

She wouldn’t realize it until later, but Kyouya was the first person to see her cry.

Not cry out of fear, Tamaki had been the first of them to witness that. Not cry from laughter. Mori held that honor.

But when she felt the pain of her heart swell, when the despair and sorrow finally wore down her walls and spilled onto her cheeks, it was Kyouya who was there. Kyouya who approached, as awkwardly as Kyouya ever did anything, and sat beside her. Asking no questions, offering no pity…simply sitting. And even then, even as her heart gave up, it might have been nothing more than the silent tears that fell from her eyes as she stared straight ahead, if he hadn’t let the outside of his right hand graze her left where it lay numb and immobile next to her lap on the couch.

And when the sobs wracked her tiny frame, and her back bent under the weight of the sorrow, her hands reached up to cover her face, her throat half choking on the sobs she still tried to hold back, and her forehead touched her knees, Kyouya’s arms were suddenly around her, his often overlooked strength easily sliding her across the couch closer to him, gathering her as tightly against him as he could.

And although his touch didn’t make anything alright, didn’t take away any of the pain and his presence didn’t make whatever her father was going through less real or less raw, the fact that Kyouya was holding her, the fact that his arms seemed to be trying to enclose her completely, the fact that he tried, made her feel less alone in the world.

And during an inconsolable moment, when nothing save her father laughing and joking back in their living room could make things okay again, Kyouya’s calm acceptance and stoic presence [?] eased a fraction of her hurt and although she was still afraid, his hands at her back and his heart beating against her ear let her know that being afraid was alright.

--

He knew nothing of comfort, not really. He knew none of the empty little lies people told in moments like these. Words such as it’ll be alright or you’ll get past this never even occurred to him. He didn’t know how to touch her, how to soothe her back, caress her hair, in gentle, calming motions. When she shook with emotion and the power of her tears, he knew only to reach for arms, head, legs, anything he could to bring her closer to keep her warm, and the more she shook, it was purely instinct that had him hold her tighter, ever tighter, in an attempt to stop it.

It was a fleeting thought, caught between the logistics of how much of her body he could hold and whether or not there was any conceivable way he could get his cell phone out of his pocket should it ring without moving his hands, and he gave it no real precedence when he did think it, discarding it as illogical and useless, and of no help at all.

There was no physical way he could take over her pain and hoping for one wouldn’t solve a thing.

+~+~+~+~+~+~

“I have to see him.”

They were the first words she had spoken since they were in the car, and Kyouya heard them as if she had yelled them, even though she had only whispered them.

Kyouya didn’t acknowledge he heard her, he knew she was speaking more to herself than to him in the first place. He didn’t need to acknowledge her, he merely stood up from the couch and walked calmly and pointedly back to the nurse’s station in the center of the waiting area, ignoring the look of near fear on the young nurse’s face as she saw him approach.

He didn’t care what the nurse thought of him; he didn’t care that the Head Nurse had just walked away from the area when he had told her there was nothing more they could do for them; he didn’t care they might have to call the Hospital’s Risk Manager; he didn’t particularly care if they ended up having to get the Hospital’s Chief of Staff in his hotel room in Pago Pago. He had a purpose, and he would accomplish it.

+~+~+~+~+~

It was hard to breathe through the mask, she’d had some trouble pulling her short hair into the paper cap they’d given her, and there was something rather itchy about the strange material of the baby blue cover up over her body, but Haruhi didn’t register any of this. She was too [enthralled] with the image of her father, tubes coming out of his nose and attached to the backs of his hands, wires coming from his chest, the beeping of his heart exposed for the entire room to hear.

Her latex covered hand tightened around the much bigger latex covered hand in hers and some part of her mind (the part that was still logical and thinking rather than merely able to act and react) knew that this was strange -- not only having this hand in hers, but the strength she found in the way he squeezed her hand in return.

She could feel the warmth from his skin, even through the latex.

She's BACK!

2009-08-13T21:00:55Z

Fans of Home, rejoice!

Harlequeenade is back and she has started drafting Chapter 2! Chapter 2, Page 1- BETA

Go see it! Tell her how brilliant she is and all that, so as to inspire her to continue!

More Crap -- AKA, +Estranged+ Soundtrack

2009-08-13T03:49:34Z

I'd mentioned before that I am highly inspired by music. I'd even posted in another post at one point a listing of several of my stories with their "soundtracks". Well...I just recently found that this neat website online called imeem lets you not only hear music and make playlists for yourself or others to hear on their website, but it lets you inbed music onto places like blogs. So, guess what? You guys get to hear the songs without having to download them yourselves!!

Of course, I'm starting with Estranged just because I found my previous listing of the music that inspired it, so it was easy to just look up the songs for that one. If you guys are interested, I might put up soundtracks for more recent stuff...

Estranged (In no particular order)

This Moment, Melissa Etheridge

This Moment - Melissa Etheridge

Always On Your Side, Sting & Melissa Etherdige

Always On Your Side - Sheryl Crow & Sting

Estranged, Guns N Roses

Estranged - Guns N Roses

Far Away, Nickelback

Far Away - Nickelback

Goodbye My Lover, James Blunt

Goodbye My Lover - James Blunt

Pero Te Extrano, Andrea Bocelli

Pero Te Extrano - Andrea Bocelli

What Hurts the Most, Rascall Flatts

What Hurts The Most - Rascal Flatts

Listen to Your Heart (Edmee's Mix), DHT

Listen To Your Heart (Edmees - DHT

Through Glass, Stone Sour

Through Glass - Stone Sour

Asignatura Pendiente, Ricky Martin

It Ends Tonight, The All-American Rejects

It Ends Tonight - The All-American Rejects

Hate Me, Blue October

Hate Me - Blue October

"And now for something completely different!"*

2009-08-12T03:50:38Z

* Kudos to anyone who can tell me where that line is from!

Okay, so some of you may know (but most of you probably don't) that I am not solely interested in the Teen Titans fandom. Even less of you will know that I have actually been tempted to write in some of these other fandoms I've become enthralled with on an off and on basis.

My interest (read: obsession) for these fandoms come and go in varying levels intensity. Sometimes, all I do is read fanfiction. Sometimes, Puck spawns a whole mess of story ideas (most of which are never finished) for any one particular fandom that I become involved in, and then, after awhile, the urge passes and I'm left with unfinished one-shots or multi-chaptered stories (sometimes, just snippets of ideas) for these fandoms. Sometimes (very, very rarely) I finish something worth showing.

Some of y'all will be familiar with the Dead Like Me fic I've posted. Some of you will remember the one lone story I posted for Ugly Betty (and you might even remember the ones I had planned).

Quite a while ago, it was Ouran High School Host Club. I played around with some ideas for Haruhi pairings outside the norm (Tamaki/Haruhi) and became enamoured of Haruhi/Kyouya or Haruhi/Twins and even Haruhi/Mori (which was a bit of a secret heart favorite), but I never really finished anything I could post and the thrall passed.

Not so long ago, I got into X-Men fandom. Here, I was first drawn in to the obvious (after the movies) pairing: Wolverine/Rogue. I found an excellent cite that celebrated the pairing with some really really well written offerings and I drenched myself in it. But then, I started craving the totally impossible, rarely seen Scott/Rogue pairing. There was a sad lack of stories on that front. I actually was randomly inspired for an angst-ridden one-shot that I finished almost entirely in one shot and I posted it onto that website. I called it Cup of Coffee and it was inspired and based loosely on the song of the same title by Garbage. (Very very angsty song).

Cup of Coffee - Garbage

Then, that thrall passed.

Next, I fall into the Bones fandom. (I'm still sort of in/ sort of out of that one and although I've had a few ideas, nothing's been written) and the Little Women. Yes, as in Louisa May Alcott. (All because I can't believe Jo was stupid enough to say no to Laurie and Laurie was stupid enough to push her when she wasn't ready.), but nothing really gets written there either. Neither of these hit me hard enough to make me write something (although Bones is close...)

But then there's a fandom that keeps coming back. It goes away, but then in random moments, I get urges to read more fic, and the first time I got it, I actually wrote something -- a few somethings -- but then forgot it, and then when the urge came again, I remembered I had written something and read what I had written and thought it was pretty good and wrote more and...well...it's Peter Pan. As in the book and the 2003 movie, not the Disney-fied version. Still...I know.

Anyway, that's the one I'm writing about tonight...although, come to think about it...

Okay, so what I was going to do was just post what I had written -- just as a way to get it up somewhere, have someone read it (maybe) and have it not wallow in obscurity (because I don't really see myself finishing it -- it seems to be a long one...).

BUT, now that I made all this fuss about the other fandoms I'd written stuff for and never published anywhere...

Would y'all be interested in reading those? I could post them onto here just for posterity and you could comment or not as you see fit. I don't really need anyone to comment on them since I don't particularly see myself as finishing any of them (but, maybe if someone out there is a fan and wants to talk about the movie or show or book with me, they're welcome to, of course!)

Anyway...I'll post the Peter Pan fic behind a cut. It doesn't have a title.

This is, by the way, based more on the book and on the 2003 live action movie (not on the Disney movie).

Prologue

Peter never came to her. If she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she never thought he would.

At first, she held fast to her belief of what had happened those days she was missing, but the boys, her one line to the truth of her time in the Neverland, never spoke of it, as if by communal consensus. They were content to allow themselves to be renamed for the adoption papers, and to let everyone believe the story told to explain their presence.

Soon, even her parents convinced themselves that Wendy, Jon, and Michael had been abducted by some faction, had somehow managed to escape and had found themselves living for days with a gang of ‘lost boys’ – street urchins, orphans, and the unwanted boys that frequently inhabit the dark and easily overlooked alleys of London’s slums.

The boys, her brothers included, adopted their stories of their time in the Neverland to stories about the streets of London and people listened with awe, some horror, and a lot of sympathy. They had been so good to take in the Darling children when they were lost, so good to help them get home – their initial lack of breeding, blood ties, and niceties was easily forgiven.

And eventually, the boys seemed to believe it themselves.

And it only took six months.

Six months of having Peter’s name never mentioned, of falling into routine, of adapting to having six new brothers, and she the only girl. The boys went quite easily from thinking of her as ‘mother’ to thinking of her as ‘sister’ and as they began to learn the London ways, they began to see her as ‘little-sister-to-be-protected’.

Wendy’s memory of Peter couldn’t help but fade – not when it was so logical, so understandable, to think of him as a little girl fantasy, a story. That ache in her chest, the empty feeling and unspecified longing in her heart wasn’t a longing for anyone in particular…rather, it was merely the ache of wanting to find love – wanting to find someone to give her hidden kiss to.

She would not relent, however, to wanting to find someone like Peter to love – even if he was only a figment of her imagination – a character from a fairy story.

She would find someone to protect her and fight for her, and choose her over even a friend if that friend had done something to hurt her, someone who would be willing to die if he thought she would forget him or leave him.

And the memory of the soft warmth of his lips under hers?

Well…Wendy Moira Angela Darling always did have a very vivid imagination. Everyone said so.

So although Peter had promised never to forget her, as she had told him once, ‘Never is an awfully long time’ and in the end, it was Wendy who forgot about Peter.

Or, if not forgot, remembered only like a vague shape in a mist filled room.

When she thought of him at all…

Chapter One

The Neverland was dying. Or fading, or whatever it was a place like the Neverland did.

It started when the Indian’s hunters started to notice a lack of fish in the lakes and game in the forests. The Mermaids too noticed a lack of food and things to play with. The Fae, having no need of mortal animals for food were the last of the Neverland inhabitants to notice anything physically amiss with their home, but they were, however, the first to notice the fading of the magic.

Very few people knew, outside of the Fae themselves (and the Mermaids who knew everything) that Fae magic was only one kind of magic present on the Neverland. The magic that drew all of the inhabitants onto the Island in the first place came from Neverland itself, not from the presence of the Fae. The Fae themselves had been drawn to its borders because of the inherent magic, much as they had been drawn to Avalon. And like Avalon, they knew what it felt like when the magic began to fade.

Ever a secretive people, however, the Fae would not disclose the nature of the magic on the Neverland until it was absolutely necessary.

“Much as we die when people stop believing in us, the Neverland too will fade away when people stop believing in it.” Oberon, High King of the Fae announced to the council of elders. “We have had no new lost boys to bring here,” he reminded them. “No new stories told about us…belief is fading, and with it, the Neverland.”

“And what do you suggest we do, Your Highness?” Chief Big Bear of the Tribe asked.

“We leave,” Serine of the Mermaids announced flatly, or as flatly as a series of clicks and pops could be flat.

Chief Big Bear turned to King Oberon, knowing that if there was any way of saving the land, he would know of it.

King Oberon nodded, slowly.

The Chief and his people were not strangers to being uprooted and moved. His people had been nomads when they had to travel for food and warmth with the change of seasons, but they had become comfortable in the Neverland. There were children in the Tribe who had never known any other place and for whom the move would be difficult. “Should we not inform the boy?” Chief Big Bear inquired. “Perhaps he can think of a way…”

They all looked at the King.

“He comes not to play with us any longer,” Serine announced. “We see him not frolicking with the stars or teasing the fish…”

“He does not challenge my warriors,” Chief Big Bear admitted.

“The boy is confused,” King Oberon announced. “His heart is confused.”

“A boy’s heart is never confused,” Chief Big Bear pointed out. “A boy’s heart wants what he wants and works to get it, and has nothing to be confused about.”

“For the first time, this boy could not have what he wanted…” King Oberon explained somewhat sadly.

“Then he will forget about it,” Serine determined. “A boy’s heart forgets easily.”

“He cannot forget her,” Oberon admitted. When they looked at him in question, he sighed and admitted what he would have perhaps preferred not to. “He gave an oath that he would not.”

“Stupid boy!” Serine spat.

“Perhaps no longer a boy…” Chief Big Bear mused.

King Oberon could not comment – he had wondered the same.

After a few moments of silence, Chief Big Bear sighed and stood. “The Tribe will migrate from the Neverland by the new moon tide,” he announced.

Serine clicked and popped in such a way that not even the elders could make out her words. “The Mermaids are always the last to leave any dying place,” she foretold and with a quick, brusque flick of her hair, disappeared beneath the crystalline water.

“Perhaps it is time you grew up, Peter Pan,” King Oberon said to the air before he too spread his wings and in a flicker of dust and a slight tinkling of bells, flew toward their Mound.

Chapter Two

Wendy remembered once, when she was younger, her mother telling them about her father’s dreams. She remembered her mother explaining to them, back when she still slept in the nursery, how her father had been forced to lock his dreams away in a drawer, only to look at them every so often for a little while, before having to put them away again, all for their sake. She remembered feeling sorry for her father, possibly as sorry as she might have felt for him had she been told her father was missing an arm or an eye.

She remembered considering, despite how vexed she had been at him at the time, that perhaps he wasn’t so horrid after all, not if he had put away his dreams for them.

It had never occurred to her, not until that very moment as she watched her mother from afar, to wonder at her mother’s dreams. Had her mother put them away as well? And if she did, where did she put them?

“You are so serious, my darling.”

Wendy looked at her mother and said the first thing that came to her mind, “What ever happened to your dreams, mother?” she asked quietly. Her mother’s eyes showed her surprise, although her composure remained, as always, calm. “Where did you put them?”

Her mother smiled, “Oh, Wendy my darling,” she said, reaching out to caress Wendy’s cheek. “Do you really not know?” she asked, smiling that smile only her mother seemed to have.

Because her mother seemed to be expecting it, Wendy shook her head.

“I have not put them away, my love,” she said softly, kindly, warmly. “You are my dream – and there,” she motioned to where John was speaking to one of the _______________________ sisters. “is another,” she said. “And yet another is asleep in bed upstairs, or should be,” she said, laughter in her voice.

Wendy, understanding as well as her mother that Michael was most probably wide awake in the nursery, cooking up some mischief with one or both of the twins, chuckled and hugged her mother.

“And when I thought all my dreams had come true, you and your brothers brought five more to me,” she continued. “My love, I watch my dreams live and breathe and walk every time I see any of my children.”

“Oh, mother,” Wendy sighed.

“I know it is a difficult decision to make, my love,” Mrs. Darling soothed. “You should follow your heart,” she admitted. At Wendy’s surprised look, she continued. “But before you do, should you not take time to consider what is your heart? What are your dreams?” she counseled. “My dream was to be a mother and I am that, but what is yours?”

Wendy sighed, once again, and didn’t answer right away as she might have but three years prior. “Should I not wait until I find someone that I love?” she asked, after a few moments. “Would that not be the only true path to take?”

Mrs. Darling looked torn for a moment, between her understanding of a young woman’s heart and counseling her daughter to the path that would mean less trouble, less suffering. “Love is something that grows and changes,” Mrs. Darling decided. “If he is a cruel, heartless man, or if his morals, his desires and dreams were opposite of what you could live with, would want to live yourself, then you could definitely not love him,” she conceded. “But Edward is a good man,” she said. “And he seems to love you truly, for everything that you are.”

Wendy looked up at her mother in surprise and bit her lip.

Mrs. Darling laughed. “Oh, I know what you have thought of the other men that have asked for your suit, daughter,” she answered. “And for the most part, I must agree – they are pompous and cared very little about you as a person other than what you would look like on their arm.”

Wendy hmphed her agreement. “Poppycocks, the lot of them,” she said under her breath.

“Do you feel Edward is the same?”

“He is kind,” Wendy admitted. “And honorable,” she remembered the time he stood up to the rude man in the park who had walked through the child’s game of jacks. “He does seem to care about me.”

“He would make a loving, kind, devoted husband.”

‘I could live with someone like that,’ she thought. ‘Even without love.’ Her expression softened, became pensive. “I have seen him play with Michael and the twins,” she added, glancing and finding the handsome profile of the object of her discussion. “He would be a good father.”

Mrs. Darling nodded slowly. “I believe he would.”

The mention of father brought Wendy’s mind back to the memory of her mother’s revelation about her father and his dreams – his courage. Her mother had said her father’s courage came from being able to look at his dreams and then close the drawer again, but in that moment, on the verge of the decision that would lock away Wendy’s dreams – at least part of them – she felt his true courage came not in putting them back, but in locking them away in the first place.

Any further comment she might have made to her mother was interrupted, however, by the approach of Edward himself.

He bowed to her mother and then to her, his eyes soft and questioning, patient and gentle. For a moment, Wendy looked at him, her mind trying to piece together a puzzle of a memory, like a shadow just out of reach, but when she realized she must be searching for something in him that reminded her of her childish dreams, she lowered her gaze and exhaled, coming to a decision much easier than she ever thought she would. Raising her head to meet his eyes once again, she smiled.

And if Edward noticed how it didn’t quite reach her eyes, he was much too much of a gentleman to comment.

So? What did you think?

Interested in seeing other random bits of random fandom I've written?

Why not?

2009-08-04T02:03:35Z

Another Meme...yes, sirree...I'm not creatively starving, not at all...

Frankly, I'm dying to write something, but I can't seem to find Puck for long enough to kick his butt in gear...I've got a lot to update, I know...but still...talk to the flighty fairy.

So, I saw this on jade_sabre_301's journal...and yes, I realize that I'm pulling a lot of meme's from her lately, but you know what? She finds some cool ones!

That said...

The "You Should Write..." Meme!
my thread here

So? What say you, readers? Once more into the breach, eh?

Fic Meme...

2009-08-01T23:33:48Z

So, I found this meme on jade_sabre_301’s LJ, and it seemed like fun...so...here it is:

List the first lines of your last twenty stories. See if you find any patterns. (And flist, I'd love your opinions on patterns you notice.)

1.
6-28-09

Richard waited for the older man to say what he intended to say because he knew he couldn't stop him.
-Echoes: Revenge (Teen Titans)

2.
6-17-09

There were any number of places I would've preferred to be than Middle-Of-Fucking-Nowhere, Washington (aka Snoqualmie -- pronounced snow-kal-mee -- Pass, population 201. Soon to be 198, in about fifty three minutes).
-This Kiss: Duck and Cover (Dead Like Me)

3.
6-12-09

Nothing could ruin his mood.
-En Rose (Teen Titans)

4.
5-3-09

It amazed her to think that a week’s vacation could actually make them more tired than they were after a two-week crime spree.
-It Only Takes A Moment: Wishes, II (Teen Titans)

5.
4-15-09

It was the soft click of Raven closing her dresser drawer that woke Speedy from a slightly disturbing dream that he wouldn’t remember, since the very moment he woke up his consciousness was overwhelmed with the fresh scent of lavender and vanilla.
-Stupid Cupid 12: Just Begun (Teen Titans)

6.
4-5-09

She hadn’t understood what he’d been trying to say – obviously.
-Don’t Go (Teen Titans)

7.
1-24-09

The funny thing about it all was that in those days, he really had no idea at all about anything.
-Echoes: Figuring (Teen Titans)

8.
12-24-08

It occurred to Raven, as she stood under the awning of the Grand Ballroom, that the soundproofing for the Georges Cinq Hotel: Gotham was top notch.
-Traditions (Teen Titans)

9.
7-28-08

The restaurant was unpretentious, minimalist, and traditional.
-Burn: Swelter (Teen Titans)

10.
7-10-08

She was only a girl.
-Heroes (Teen Titans)

11.
5-31-08

She awoke to the sound of water hitting the tile floor in the next room.
-Instinct 2: Discourse (Teen Titans)

12.
5-6-08

She blinked a few times and the words on the page in front of her stopped melding together as if by magic.
-Bumps (Teen Titans)

13.
3-10-08

She didn’t turn him away when he appeared at her door, didn’t pull away when he reached for her, didn’t keep him out when he backed her into her own room.
-Sweetest Thing: Boiling Tar (Teen Titans)

14.
2-4-08

There were children everywhere.
-Stuff Like That There: Childhood (Teen Titans)

15.
2-15-08

“Hey.”
-Offerings (Teen Titans)

16.
12-24-07

The sleigh arrived just in time, and, as expected, the sound of the bells and the neighing of the horses brought his friends out of whatever contemplations had taken their fancy.
-Sleigh Ride (Teen Titans)

17.
12-22-07

“Are you going to say how strange it is to find me in a place like this, too?”
-Heavenly Peace (Teen Titans)

18.
12-13-07

How long had she been with them?
-Now No More (Teen Titans)

19.
11-14-07

It was a good thing Raven wasn’t of a particularly jealous sort.
-Laid Bare: One Month Later (Teen Titans)

20.
11-9-07

There were worse ways to spend an afternoon than in the blistering heat, walking what seemed like endless miles upon miles, stopping occasionally and intermittently, and even then getting no relief (how could it actually be hotter in the shade than in the sun? Of course, there was no breeze in the shade, by necessity of the positioning of the tents, but still, was it really enough to make that kind of a difference?).
-Stuff Like That There: Worse Days (Teen Titans)

I guess I can say that the first thing that comes to mind is how very often I write (or, at least start a fic by writing) in Raven’s point of view.

The second thing that comes to mind is that it doesn’t feel to me like I often start my stories at a plain “beginning” you know? Granted, a few of those lines are beginnings for chaptered fics, but still...it still feels like I’m starting after things have been going on for awhile, even for the one-shots.

And finally, I gotta say that as far as beginnings go, they’re mostly okay. I mean, taken independently, anyone could probably come up with a dozen or so storylines, that could be MILES away from where I took it -- that’s pretty cool. (At least, I think so).

So...what do y’all think? Any insights?

Update on Update

2009-07-21T15:08:50Z

Yeah, so I had my telephone conference with crabbieabbie, Beta Extraordinaire and she has assured me she will hurt me if I post Stupid Cupid's chapter with it ending where it currently ends.

She assures me she is doing this for you, dear readers, so you should be thanking her. (Well, for you and for me, so y'all don't come after me with pitchforks and torches after leaving you on yet another cliffie with such a short chapter)

I tried to reason with her that where I left it was a logical stopping point, but she'd have none of it.

So, it isn't going to be posted just yet. I'm going back to the drawing board and extending the chapter some.

I know what is going to happen in what I want to extend the chapter, but only in vague terms, so I will have to dedicate some thought to it.

In other words: my last journal where I said that Stupid Cupid might be the next one to be posted? I lied. Sorry. Didn't intend to.

In other news:

I'll be going to visit guardian_kysra on Thursday! Woohoo!!! I'm very excited. I haven't been back to Louisiana since I graduated Law School in 2005.

Cafe du Monde and Pat O'Brian's here I come! Yeah, baby!

^___________^

Of course, I'm going tihs weekend to celebrate with Kysra, since it's her un-Birthday on Friday.

So yeah...I'll be uncomunicado starting Thursday night through Sunday. But y'all know what it's like whenever me and Kysra get together -- story ideas and inspiration up the wazoo.

Soooooo excited!!! *jumpy-bouncy*

Update number...ah, I've lost count...

2009-07-19T05:10:25Z

Yes, my friends -- even though life (more specifically, work) has been kicking my ass with its non-stop responsibilities and hectic schedule (still love what I do, do what I love -- but Gods, does there have to be so damn much of it???), I have STILL been writing!

Aren’t you glad to hear that? *cheeky grin*

So, without further ado...

Updates

1. Just A Game: [30Lemons Entries] My claim on the Rob/Rae pairing for this community has definitely lapsed, but that’s okay -- I never got too much feedback from the lj community people anyway. I’m still working on getting them done and still intend on increasing the amount of lemony goodness in each one as they progress. In that vein, the next chapter is done in rough draft form. I had intended it to be theme 19: the Gymnasium, but I’ve changed my mind. Due to a sudden burst of inspiration, the next chapter will now be theme 6: The Closet, or, "Denial isn't just a River in Egypt!". So yes, this one should be up relatively soon...as soon as I can get myself to edit it. I’ve already sent it out to a few betas, and hope they’ll help me. I’m not too content with the end, so once I’m happy with that, it’ll probably get put up.

2. Stuff Like That There: [15 hugs themes] The next theme I was working on for this one was 12: Fur. I worked out a scene, and wrote most of it and had some trouble finding a way to end it. So I stopped. Now, I’m not so sure that I like it for this series at all. It might work better as a sort of independent one-shot than as part of the Hugs Series. If I decide that’s true, then y’all will get a one-shot, but not the next installment of the series. In any case, there’s a mostly finished (except for the ending) bit written in very nearly final draft, so it might just get posted up relatively quickly (if I decide it IS a Hug after all.)

3. Sweetest Thing: Honestly, I don’t even know which is the next theme for this. So no, I haven’t written in it. (I think I might’ve somehow missed transferring over the file from Lola to the new Mac. Hafta look to see...

4. Instinct 2: Impulse: Nope. Haven’t written in this one either.

5. Burn: Okay, so I have written in this one, but I’m not sure I like it. I’ve written several different ways of approaching the next chapter, so yeah...that’s why I had to let it go for awhile to decide what I liked best. It’s started, and that’s about it. I’m also debating how much to give y’all in the next chapter.

6. Stupid Cupid: Finished in rough, rough draft version. I’ve got an appointment for a live one-on-one with BetaAbbie to go over this...But yeah...this’ll probably be the next thing posted.

7. It Only Takes A Moment: As I said when I posted this one, I have three different scenes to write for this story, and I haven’t decide which is to go first just yet. I think I have decided, but I’m not sure. In any case, I’m trying to update my other stuff before I get back to this one...

8. Echoes: Yeah, no idea which theme will be up next. Obviously, haven’t written it. I’ve still got ideas for two of them, but haven’t worked on them, so sorry.

Collabs

1. A Raven’s Tale: I think I might be done with my part in writing Chapter 3. I want to give it another looksie before sending it on to guardian_kysra for her input.

2. Strange Bedfellows: Chapter 2. This is still up to Kysra.

3. The Shadow and the Flame: Log II. Also up to Kysra.

And...I guess that’s it, folks.

I’ve also been working on a few one-shot ideas off and on. Notably, one based off of a song, and another that would be the totally and completely AU story I’ve been wanting to do, but we’ll talk about those when I’m closer to actually posting something...

Keep an eye out, and remember to vote in the polls to help determine which Red-X/Raven drabble I extend to a full one-shot!